Authors: Hope Navarre
“Tell me about what part of your job you like best,” Ellie said after Ryan got done tamping earth around their fourth post. He sent her a where-did-that-come-from look and she said, “That's one of the standard questions I use in the course of my job.”
“What exactly is your job?”
“I evaluate employees and workforces.” Ellie felt heat building in her face as she lied by omission. She no longer did that. “I help to decide who to hire and fire, although we didn't use those particular terms.” She stabbed the diggers into the next hole, brought up some loose dirt, deposited it at the edge of the hole and then stabbed them in again. Before she pulled them out, she tilted her head at Ryan. “You have amazing patience.”
“How so?”
“I can see how badly you want to take these away from me and do this more quickly and efficiently.”
“You're doing fine.”
“I know I am.” She hauled more dirt out of the hole, peered down inside then stepped back. “But I've also seen impatient males wanting to take over.”
“Have you, now?” he asked as he dumped the post into the hole and held it vertical with one hand while he shoved dirt down the hole with his boot.
“Yes. And I just ignore them.”
“Somehow I don't find that hard to believe.”
Ellie considered his answer for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she'd been insulted. Did it matter? Oddly, she decided it did. “Meaning?” she asked.
He flashed her a quick look. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”
“No.” The word dropped like a stone. She most certainly had not been.
“All I meant was that a person like you has probably had a lot of practice ignoring impatient males...which was exactly what I said.”
“I don't believe we were speaking in the same context.”
“No kidding,” he said drily before kicking more dirt into the half-filled hole. When she didn't respond, he moved on to more mundane matters. “You asked about what I like about my job.”
“Yes,” she agreed, glad they were moving back to steadier ground.
“I like managing the grazing land. Over the past couple years, I've developed a system that allows for more re-growth and therefore more forage on some of our poorer pastures. We get more animal-unit days.”
“Which are...?”
“AUs are basically the amount of forage needed to support an animal for a day.”
“Sounds very scientific.”
“Ranching is all about science in one way or another.”
“Not my best subject in school.”
Ryan leaned on the bar he used to tamp the earth. “I bet you got As.”
“Why?” Ellie pushed her hair back again.
“Did you?”
She smiled wryly. “Yes.”
“As I thought.” Ryan started tamping again. “I studied a lot of science in college. It
was
my best subject.”
Ellie watched him work, filing away information as he continued to talk about grazing and pasture management while they set the next six or seven posts. Ellie lost count. He spoke with simple eloquence about a subject she'd never much thought aboutâokay, she'd
never
thought aboutâmanaging ranchland. “Technically your job title isn't cowboy, is it?”
Ryan grinned at her and Ellie swore her heart stuttered a little. “Range manager might be more appropriate, but I always think of myself as a cowboy.”
As did she.
Ryan stabbed the bar into the earth, focusing on what he was doing as he said, “I have to admit that Walt wasn't the best grazing managerâa lot of guys of his generation weren'tâand then when the drought hit, followed by the wildfire...too much to recover from. He hired me right out of college, but we couldn't turn things around fast enough.”
“He was in pretty deep debt, I gather.”
“Oh, yeah. He did everything but sell organs to hang on to this place. And I hate to think what would have happened had he thought of that.” Ryan leaned on the bar for a moment. “Does your uncle know anything about ranching?”
“He'll be dependent on his manager,” Ellie said tactfully. “Which is why that manager needs to have communication skills and not bite people's heads off because he's angry that he lost his property.”
“Walt will come around.”
“He's not showing signs yet.”
“He's still acclimating to the idea.”
“It's been over a year.”
“He's grieving.”
“He needs to get over it,” Ellie said. “If he doesn't...” She didn't need to finish the sentence. She could see that Ryan got her drift...and that he didn't like it. Well, reality was reality. Milo was already of the opinion that Walt was a difficult employee and so far Ellie hadn't seen anything that would allow her to go to bat for the man.
* * *
R
YAN
AND
E
LLIE
parted company at the gate. He was kind of sorry to see her go, even if they didn't see eye to eye about Walt. He parked the truck behind the barn then headed straight to his house, where he dialed the lawyer's number, something he'd both been looking forward to and dreading all day. There was an immediate answer and one associate put him through to another.
“Mr. Madison, I'd like to arrange a meeting.”
“Am I being sued?” Ryan demanded.
“No,” the associate said in a placating tone. “But this is a sensitive matter that we'd prefer to address in a private meeting.”
“Look,” Ryan said. “I'm not big on mystery.”
“And we don't want this to be a mystery, but as I said, this is a sensitive matter.”
“I'm going to hang up.”
“I represent Mr. Charles Montoya.”
What the hell? Why was his father siccing a Billings law firm on him? “He'd like to meet with me?”
“As his representatives, he'd like
us
to meet with you.”
Somehow Ryan wasn't surprised. “When?”
“We'd like to arrange something next week. In Billings.”
“No. If you want to meet, we meet in Glennan. I think Mr. Montoya can afford to pay you for your travel time.”
The associate cleared his throat. “I'll have to confer with Mr. Montoya.”
“You do that,” Ryan said. “I can meet with you next Tuesday or Wednesday. You can set the time.”
“I don't knowâ”
“And I don't care.” With that, he hung up.
For a few seconds Ryan sat staring across the room. What in the hell could his father want badly enough to set up a meeting? It had to have something to do with whatever had upset his mom, and if push came to shove, Ryan would go to Billings to meet with the attorneys and find out what the deal was.
But he didn't want Charles to think that he was calling all the shots here.
CHAPTER EIGHT
F
OR
ONCE
E
LLIE
was up near sunrise. There was an avian symphony outside the bathroom window and even though she'd slept soundly, once she woke, she couldn't roll over and go back to sleep as usual. Partly because the birds were making so much noise, but mostly because she'd felt a jolt of pleasant anticipation at seeing Ryan again. Inappropriate, she told herself as she flopped over and tried to go back to sleep.
It wasn't inappropriate if he didn't know.
And why should he?
She was barely willing to acknowledge it to herselfâit wasn't as though she was going to announce it to him.
“Hormones,” she muttered as she got out of bed. Coupled with a little too much alone time.
Maybe that was it. She just needed to be with people. Yesterday she hadn't obsessed over the frustrating conversation/confession with her mother or thought about being pregnant more than a couple dozen timesâas opposed to the several hundred times a day that had become the norm of late. For almost the entire time she'd been with Ryan she'd felt normal. Like her old self.
You can't be your old self.
No doubt. Her old self wouldn't have put on these filthy, scuffed-up hiking boots. Ellie wrinkled her nose, then shoved her foot inside. She didn't want to be late for work.
Walt was opening the barn door when she left the house, a thermos of herbal tea in one hand, a jug of water in the other. He looked at her, started inside then stopped and turned back around.
“Good morning,” he said stiffly.
“Good morning,” she answered, thinking he sounded very much as if someone was twisting his arm to make him speak.
“If you have any questions about operations, you can ask me anytime. And if you'd like to know more about the cows and the breeding program, I can carve out some time.”
“I'd like to learn about the cows,” she said, stopping a few feet away from him. The invitation sounded anything but sincere, but he'd made it and she was going to take him up on itâeven if it killed both of them.
He grunted in reply and then headed off into the barn, leaving Ellie staring after him.
“Problem?”
Ellie turned to see Ryan approaching from his house.
“Walt just invited me to a sit-down to learn about his cows.”
“You take him up on it?”
“I did, but we didn't set a date.”
“Maybe I can be there, too.”
“To referee?”
“Possibly.” He started toward the pickup. Ellie smiled a little. She was fairly certain that Ryan was responsible for Walt's grumbling invitation. It touched her that he was so loyal to the old man, but it was going to take more than a cow talk to turn Walt into the kind of manager Milo was looking for.
* * *
R
YAN
FOUGHT
A
yawn as he waited for Ellie to open the gate. Practice had gone okay, but he'd been unable to sleep afterward as he'd replayed the conversation with the attorney a few million times in his head. When Walt had showed up he'd helped him grain the calves, and then suggested that he make a few overtures of friendliness toward Ellie.
Trust Walt to consider the invitation to hear about his cows an appropriate gesture.
When she got back into the truck, Ellie gave him a quick once-over. “Are you all right?”
He was surprised at the question, which smacked of personal interest. “Long night. I got in late from practice.”
“From what I've read, guys who hold down full-time jobs have a hard time competing in professional rodeo.”
“Which is why it's good that I have an employer who allows me to work flex time.”
Ellie took hold of the armrest as the truck lurched forward over the worst of the ruts. “I was thinking more about the amount of time it takes to both practice and compete.”
“That's probably why I don't have a girlfriend.”
Ellie flashed him a quick look, then directed her eyes straight ahead. “I'm surprised at that. You do seem like a catch,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I own my truck.”
“You're a bit of a local celebrity.” Ryan snorted. “No, really,” she said.
“How much research have you done?”
“Enough,” she said lightly.
Ryan rolled his eyes and started to drive, realizing that just having Ellie there helped stop the vicious cycle of his thoughts, which had been bouncing from Charles to the mystery of the meeting and back to Charles again. And there was something to be said for that.
* * *
A
WEEK
AGO
Ellie wouldn't have believed that she'd be something of an expert on fence-post setting, but after twenty-five posts, she'd say she qualified.
“Why are all of these posts wood,” she asked as Ryan pulled up to the last gate, “while those are skinny and metal?”
“Those are T-posts. Walt wanted to use wood on the property boundary, because that was what was there before.”
“He's not big on change, is he?”
“He's a traditionalist,” Ryan replied.
Ellie let the remark pass, seeing no sense in arguing a case with Ryan that Walt essentially needed to win himself. Besides, she wasn't in the mood for arguing. She wanted to get outside, enjoy the sun. Watch Ryan work under the guise of professional interest, and damned if she was going to feel guilty about that. She had enough to worry about without adding guilt to the plate.
When they got to the fence line, they started on the first post without speaking, following the process they'd worked out the previous day. Ryan put his hand on the finished post, testing it.
“I think we set a record on this one.”
“Have I been slowing you down?” Ellie asked, brushing the hair back from her forehead with the back of her wrist.
“Even if you were, it wouldn't matter.”
“Why?” she asked, realizing that she cared about his reply more than she probably should.
“It's nice having some company out here. Usually I work alone.” He held out his hand and Ellie gave him the post-hole diggers instead of insisting on doing it herself. He stabbed them into the hole, pulling out about double the amount of dirt she usually removed. “I don't mind being alone, but not all the time. You know?”
She knew.
Ryan tipped the post into the hole and they both started scraping in dirt with their boots, working on opposite sides while Ryan held the post vertical with one hand. “Can I ask a personal question?”
“Okay...” Ellie said even as alarms went off inside her.
“How is it that you're able to be here?”
“I don't understand.”
“Are you independently wealthy? On vacation? Sabbatical?”
Maybe it was because he was so matter-of-fact and down-to-earth and didn't seem to have a thing to hide himself that Ellie was able to answer with as much truth as she felt comfortable telling. “I'm out of work.”
He stopped pushing dirt. “Unexpected?”
“About as unexpected as you can imagine.”
He frowned before reaching for the tamping bar. “That bites.” He appeared to mean it.
“It's good to see the other side of the coin,” she said philosophically. “I've been responsible for layoffs and now I know what it's like.”
“Do you really mean that?”
She smirked at him. “It's the most positive spin I can put on it.”
He smiled at her, seeming to like the candidness of her reply. “You're different than you first come off, Ellie.”
“Yeah?” she asked, again feeling warmth curling inside her.
“I think you know that.”
“All right. I do.” She paused thoughtfully, then added, “In my line of work, it doesn't pay to become too attached to those you work with. So I don't.”
“Makes sense.” He tamped dirt around the post, his muscles flexing under his light cotton shirt in a rather spectacular way. “In my line of work, the rodeo line, I do make friends. I have to beat them, of course, but I still like them.”
“How about Matt Montoya?”
Ryan's head came up, and there was something about his expression that told Ellie to tread lightly. “What about him?” he asked slowly.
“I read a few articles where you talked some major smack about him.”
“That doesn't mean I don't like him,” Ryan said as he walked to the next post.
“If that's how you talk about people you like, then I don't want to think about what you say about people you don't like.”
“All part of the game.”
“Rough game,” she murmured.
“Rodeo ain't for sissies.”
No doubt. But Ryan's demeanor had changed when she'd brought up Montoya, which made her believe that the smack talk hadn't entirely been fun and games.
“This'll be our last post for today,” Ryan said. “Want to save some fun for tomorrow.” He started dropping tools into the bucket.
It was early, but Ellie couldn't say she was sorry to stop fencing. She absently rubbed one of her shoulders as they walked back to the truck. “What now?”
“I thought we could drive up onto the mountain. I can show you the grazing area we use in the spring and see if we can spot those four lost cows.”
“How many man hours have been tied up in those four cows?”
Ryan dropped the bucket on the tailgate, making the tools inside rattle. “More than should have been. However, considering the market value of the animals, not enough to make it a waste of money.”
Ellie had no idea what the market value of the four cows was and she wasn't going to ask. She'd look it up. “Just checking,” she said.
“We kind of know what we're doing,” Ryan replied as he lifted the tool bucket into the back of the truck.
“And I'm kind of here to learn.” The quiet camaraderie that had been growing between them as they worked had started to fade, and Ellie felt a stab of disappointment as they slipped back into their roles. She was there to evaluate on behalf of her uncle; Ryan was there to try to sway her thinking. They weren't friends.
As they drove onto the mountain, Ryan tossed out grazing facts and figures while maneuvering the truck up the narrow dirt road, negotiating switchbacks and easing around deep ruts.
When they finally cleared the tree line, he parked and got out of the truck. Ellie did the same, coming to stand next to him near the front of the truck as he pointed out fence lines and boundaries. When he was done, Ellie simply drank in the incredible vista for a momentâthe forested mountains surrounding lush valley meadows. In the distance she could see a townâGlennan, no doubt, where she'd soon be going for her first baby appointment. And for once the thought didn't seize her up. Her pregnancy was a fact of life and she would deal with it.
She took in a breath and lifted her chin so that the crisp breeze blew the escaped wisps of hair back from her forehead. What would it be like to live and work in an environment like this every day of your professional life? She'd read about the land shaping the men that worked it, but had never really thought about what it meant. But she knew without a doubt that Ryan was shaped by this land, as was Walt, most probably. These guys dealt with issues totally foreign to her, foreign to Milo and Angela.
Which was where the ranch consultant came into the picture. An expert in the field. Milo and Angela weren't the first people in the area to buy a retirement/investment ranch, and they'd learn.
She glanced over at Ryan, who continued to stare off into the distance, deep in thought. “Looking for your cows?” Ellie asked.
“Always,” he said, smiling a little as he turned toward her. “We should probably get back.”
“I assume you're practicing tonight?” While she, no doubt, would be soaking her sore muscles in a hot tub.
“Actually, I'm going to Jessie and Francisco's for posole.”
“What's âposole'?” Ellie asked as they started for the truck, walking side by side, neither in a great hurry to leave.
“You're kidding, right?”
Ellie shook her head. “Sounds like a card game.”
Ryan laughed as he opened the truck door. “It's pork-and-hominy soup. Amazing stuff when Jessie makes it.”
“Ah,” Ellie said politely. She'd never had hominy, either. Her education, it seemed, was lacking in certain foodstuffs.
Ryan started the truck and put it in Reverse, Ellie automatically steadying herself with a hand on the seat as the vehicle lurched backward over a rut. The movement had become second nature and that realization gave Ellie a vague sense of satisfaction. She was adapting, feeling more comfortable in her environment. More comfortable with the people she was essentially living with. She glanced sideways at Ryan. No,
comfortable
wasn't the word. In some ways comfortable was the opposite of what she felt around Ryan.
Edgy
was a better description.
Ellie was slowly becoming a fan of edgy.
* * *
A
FTER
OPENING
THE
last gate to allow Ryan to drive through, Ellie walked across the drive to the main house. She was inside by the time Ryan had parked the truck and walked around the barn. He stood for a moment, debating, then went into his own house to shower before dinner.
It hadn't been a half-bad day despite the matter of his father's lawyers continually shoving itself into his thoughts. Ellie wasn't afraid to put in a day's work and when she let herself relax, she was actually kind of fun and easy to talk to. He smiled to himself as he opened his door, recalling how she'd thought posole sounded like a card game. How could anyone not know what posole was?
But something else she'd said had stuck with himâthat bit about not letting herself get too close to the people she worked with because of what she might have to do later. But she was allowing herself get to know him. Hell, she'd researched him on the internet. He still wasn't quite sure how to take that, but it showed interest in him as a person and she'd even consented to answer what had to be a difficult personal question: why she was able to be there. Being out of work had to be rough on Ellie, whom he suspected judged herself by professional success, but she'd confessed. That showed a level of trust. Now he just needed to give Ellie the opportunity to get to know the rest of the crew under pleasant circumstances.... Ellie, who'd never had posole.