The Reluctant Rancher~Badlands (Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense) Page 13

  He supposed Eldon loved his wife just as intensely, but that didn’t translate into the need to spend much time with her. E.J. closed the door to the study and silently walked away.

  ~*~

  Jenna felt a huge void in her life. Not something the usually independent woman could be comfortable with. She acknowledged she was in love with E.J., as remarkable as that phenomena could be, but she was having a little trouble admitting how much she needed him.

  She had booked herself a full day of ranch calls. Being a large animal vet, she didn’t have an office in town where people could bring their cats to be neutered. A small bedroom-turned-home-office was more than adequate. She did her billing and kept records for tax purposes, but that was more than enough. Several of the big ranchers paid her a monthly fee to be on call for them. This provided quite a nice income, no matter whether or not she was called upon to perform her services. She had developed a calendar of calls to make them feel they were getting their money’s worth. She checked on the well animals and saw that inoculations were up to date. She made recommendations on feed for different times of the year and kept up with pregnant horses and cows and followed up with new foal and calf. Lots of little bits of business to keep her busy.

  And yet…

  Her thoughts kept returning to the big, complicated blond man who seemed to have totally ensnared her mind, body and spirit.

  On the one hand, she felt guilty that she hadn’t accompanied him to Dallas to bury his father. But he hadn’t really seemed to want her company. She frowned at that, wondering why not. Was there someone in Dallas he didn’t want her to meet? Was he ashamed of her? She recalled the many times he had teased her for being less than feminine. Maybe he wanted some fancy society debutante to dress his arm in the big city.

  Jenna let out a sigh. Too bad. I yam what I yam.

  She squared her shoulders and climbed into her truck. Glancing back at the porch, she smiled when Rufus, her black and white Australian Shepherd wagged his tail. “Oh, all right. Come on!” With a gleeful bound off of the porch, Rufus ran to dance around her. “Get in. You can come with me.”

  Rufus leapt into the truck cab and sat on the seat giving all the appearance of a grin. She cracked his window so he could stick his nose out.

  Somehow, having her furry companion with her eased the void inside where she was missing her big male companion.

  ~*~

  Sara Beth unlocked her store. There were sympathy cards on the floor that people had stuffed through the mail slot. She gathered them haphazardly, unwilling to prolong the death protocol any longer. She wanted to throw them away, but knew that would be rude and she couldn’t be rude to the many people who had been so kind to her.

  “Well, Cami Lynn. It’s just the two of us. I wonder how we’ll get along now that your daddy isn’t around.” She tried to preview an image of herself with her daughter in the future, but couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine how the profits from her store would support them.

  In fact, some months she barely cleared enough to pay the rent and electric bill. It had been more of a hobby when she started out. Something to keep her busy while Nick was working.

  She huffed out a deep breath. Not a hobby now. She set Cami Lynn’s car seat down next to her purse. “I gotta figure out how to make us a living…real fast.”

  The thought crossed her mind of returning to live with her father. She supposed he would take her and her daughter in. He would feel it was his duty to provide for them, no matter how much they continually disappointed him.

  She pressed her lips together, determined not to put her child through the misery of feeling she was never quite up to standard. She raised her chin and straightened her spine. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”

  With her hands fisted on her hips, she took a stroll around the store. It was clean and it was attractive. The problem was, in a small town like Langston, Texas, there just weren’t enough customers in need of her wares. She took a small notebook out of her handbag and made a row of columns. She had shelves filled with beautiful hand-made quilts, but these were on consignment, and she didn’t have to pay for them until they sold. She quickly counted the quilts and shams, noting the sizes. Moving on to the jewelry case, she had open boxes of jewelry that could best be described as decorative, but nothing of great value. A pair of tortoise shell hair combs, silver and turquoise earrings. A brass and silver cuff bracelet. Many other items grouped together. Most she had acquired at estate sales, where people were only too anxious to get rid of their dead relatives’ personal treasures for a little cash.

  “Okay,” she murmured. “I paid good money for this stuff, so I need to turn it over.”

  The thing she had the most of was furniture, from those selfsame estate sales. She had paid for these things too. How many large wardrobes or sideboards should one store have on hand? Something needs to move, and quick.

  She took a seat behind the counter, with Cami Lynn nearby. Doctor Cami said something about classes. What was it? Oh, yes. Maybe she could take decorating classes and offer her services. She considered this possibility. There was no money for classes, and not enough time for her to learn any new skills.

  What else?

  She was jarred out of her reverie by the clanking of the cowbell against the glass set in the front door. Her heart jolted to high alert before she recognized the visitor.

  “Lands sake, Frank! You about scared me to death.”

  His face spread into a wide grin. “I assure you, that wasn’t my intention.” He walked across the width of the store to where she sat behind the counter, his boots clomping on the wooden floor. He held a large white bag, which he placed on the counter in front of her.

  She smiled at him. “What’s all this?”

  “Well, since the last time I happened to be in town during the daytime, and you so graciously joined me for lunch, I was thinking maybe you might be kind enough to dine with me again.” He untied the top of the bag and revealed two Styrofoam containers and two tall drinks with lids. He set about dividing up the plastic eating utensils and napkins.

  “Why, Frank! I don’t know what to say.” She felt her cheeks flushing.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, setting one of the drinks in front of her. “I just hate to eat all by myself, and you did seem to enjoy Tiny’s meatloaf.”

  “I did indeed, but I can’t have you spending your hard earned money to feed me. I brought a sandwich.”

  He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “How can you say no to this?” He popped open the lid on one of the containers and the tantalizing fragrance of meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy wafted toward her nose.

  “Oh, my! That smells amazing.”

  “Let’s eat before it gets cold.” Frank dragged up a stool to the other side of the counter and pulled the remaining container toward himself. “I’m starving.”

  Sara Beth found herself grinning. For the first time in the past few weeks, for the first time since her troubles had begun…she finally had something to grin about. “Me too.” She picked up the plastic fork and scooped a bite of meatloaf onto it. “Thanks, Frank.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes.

  Frank looked around. “The store looks nice. How’s business? ”

  She shrugged. “There hasn’t been any yet. I was just thinking on ways to maybe sell more stuff, but I think the truth is, there’s just not much business in Langston.”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “There doesn’t have to be. I would think you would do a much better business out in the real world.”

  “The real world?” She frowned.

  He laughed. “Well, maybe not the real world, but the virtual world. Do you have your business on the internet?”

  “No, I don’t have a computer. I used to have one when I was at home with my dad, but I left it behind when I went off with Nick.” She felt Frank’s brown eyes gazing at her thoughtfully.

  “If you opened an online store, you could probably catch the
attention of buyers in the bigger cities who might be willing to shop with you.” He looked around again. “I mean, some of this stuff, you could probably bundle up and ship to your customers. All that bed stuff on the back wall and the things in this case.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, but I have no idea how to get started. And I for sure can’t afford a computer at this time.”

  He leaned back, smiling…almost smug. “I just happen to be a computer whiz.” He placed his hand on his chest. “And trust me here, I’m being modest.”

  Sara Beth laughed, surprising herself with how good it felt to laugh out loud.

  “You see, you have nothing to worry about.” He patted himself on the chest. “I can teach you everything you need to know to get started.”

  She tried to reign in the unbound joy, running wild inside her. Totally unsuitable for so recent a widow. She cleared her throat. “So it seems, other than the one little issue about me not having a computer.”

  He made a guttural, dismissive noise. “Not a problem. I have enough spare parts to build a usable PC. Nothing fancy, but you could post your wares online.” He swung around on the stool and back to her. “Your choice.”

  He seemed so confident. Some faint flicker of hope stirred in her chest. “Why would you want to do all this for me, Frank? I can’t afford to pay you.”

  His brow furrowed. “Sara Beth, did I mention anything about money? Can’t you just accept a simple gift from a friend? A neighbor?”

  She couldn’t possibly find words to tell him how much she wanted to accept his ‘simple gift’, yet somehow, it didn’t seem right. “It seems like an awful lot to be giving to a person you don’t really know.”

  He considered her statement, scooped another bite of potatoes into his mouth. “So, you think it would be better for all those loose computer parts to be sitting around in boxes in the bunkhouse just going to waste? Or even worse, getting in T-Bone’s way where he’s stumbling over them and cussing a blue streak?” He gestured with his fork. “Not sure I can agree with you. In fact, if you ever heard T-Bone cuss, you would be the first to give those old computer parts away.”

  “Really? Well I wouldn’t want to be the cause of Mr. T-Bone to go cussing.”

  “Glad you agree.”

  Cami Lynn chose that moment to jerk awake and start howling. Sara Beth picked her up and jostled her around, checked her for dampness and surmised that her daughter was hungry. She unzipped the insulated pocket on the diaper bag and took out one of the bottles.

  Frank reached for the baby. “Here, let me take her. You haven’t finished eating.”

  She supposed her face fell open in surprise. “Why, Frank. I didn’t dream a single man, such as yourself, would be comfortable with a baby.”

  He gave her a one-sided grin. “I’ve been around babies all my life. I’m the oldest of six.” He stood and reached across the counter for Cami Lynn. “Come here, you little heart-breaker.”

  Metal bands seemed to constrict Sara Beth’s heart. Something about other hands reaching for her daughter. She resisted at first, not releasing Cami Lynn to this big cowboy. There was a moment when their eyes met, each holding the baby. Sara Beth drew a breath and blew it out, releasing fear along with it. She flashed a nervous smile as she let go of her child.

  Frank curled her into his arm and reached for the bottle. He appeared to be perfectly at ease holding a small human and feeding said human. He grinned down at his charge. “Hey, little girl,” he crooned. “You’re going to kill the boys with those beautiful eyes.”

  Sara Beth tried to relax…tried to fight back the tears pricking her eyes. Reaching for her fork again, she concentrated on getting a bite of meatloaf speared and into her mouth.

  Frank continued to talk to Cami Lynn as she nursed the bottle. She gazed up at him, apparently fascinated by the deeply resonant voice. “Such a pretty girl,” he said. “Like your mother.”

  Sara Beth almost choked on the bite she was chewing. “Oh, I’ve never been pretty.” As soon as she said the words, her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “I mean, I know I’m not pretty.”

  Frank frowned at her. “Where did you ever get that idea?”

  She shrugged. “My parents. They told me to be glad I was just a plain girl with a good spirit, that I might please the Lord.”

  He didn’t speak, but continued to frown at her as though he was battling over some internal conflict. He set the bottle on the counter top and lifted the baby to his shoulder. He jostled her and patted her back until she gave up a huge burp. He grabbed a paper napkin and wiped a bit of milky foam from her mouth.

  Sara Beth continued to eat quietly, appreciating the food and friendship Frank offered. She knew she was wrong to feel so fearful of accepting gifts from this man, who seemed to have no agenda whatsoever. She watched her daughter fall under his spell, gurgling in response to his words. Or maybe he was falling under her spell.

  ~*~

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “E.J., darling,” Taylor trilled as she threw her arms around his neck. The scent of her expensive perfume closed in around him.

  He had opened the door and found a half dozen of his friends waiting.

  “So sorry for your loss,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. She stepped around him and entered the house.

  “Sorry, old chap. Condolences and all that.” Chip Benton, one of his friends from prep school bumped fists with him and followed Taylor inside.

  “Um, thank you,” E.J. mumbled.

  Marla slipped her arms inside his jacket and around his torso. She pressed herself against him, and then drew back, gazing up at him with yearning in her expression. “Missed you so much,” she whispered.

  It felt strange, somehow wrong, for anyone other than Jenna to have her arms around him. “Uh, yeah. Me too.” E.J. slipped out of her grasp, reaching to accept the hand of another of his friends.

  Gunnar Heidricks shook his hand and slapped him on the shoulder and stepped inside. And then, only one person stood waiting to greet him.

  “Hello Cory.” E.J.’s voice turned husky on him as he gazed at the woman he had been so enamored with in college.

  “E.J.” Her voice flowed with an almost musical quality. “I’ve missed you terribly.” Her lower lip quivered in a tantalizing way, full, glossy and perfect. She stepped toward him, her arms extended and he found himself embracing her.

  “Uh, good to see you, Cory.” He felt himself cringe at how lame that sounded. “Won’t you come in?” He stepped back, but Cory remained in his arms, gazing up at him with a rapt expression.

  They stared at each other for a long moment and she lifted her chin, her mouth posed for a kiss.

  He stepped back again, releasing her and gesturing toward the interior.

  A look of mild annoyance crossed her perfect face. She turned and walked inside.

  E.J. drew a breath and blew it out before following his guests. When he turned to the room his mother had called the drawing room, he found Chip helping himself to the eighty-year-old blended whisky. He poured it from a lead crystal decanter into one of the matching shot glasses. E.J. remembered his mother telling him this set had been in his family for several generations.

  Cory walked with her particular grace to a chair by the marble fireplace. She turned and sank onto the chair, staring at him with large luminous eyes.

  “Nice of you to drop by,” E.J. said.

  Taylor spread her hands wide. “Surely you didn’t think we would abandon you in your hour of need. What kind of friends do you think we are?”

  “No, I didn’t think anything of the kind.” He crossed to take the decanter out of Chip’s hand and dispensed a substantial belt into one of the glasses. He poured the liquid down his throat, welcoming the smooth taste, the oak of the barrel.

  “What are your plans, old man?” Gunnar stared at him, his brow knit in a particularly fierce frown.

  “Yes,” Marla whispered. “With your father’s. . .untimely passing, s
urely you’re going to return to Dallas. I mean, you don’t have to hang out on a cattle ranch now, do you?”

  E.J. tossed back the rest of the whisky. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

  A provocative smile played around Cory’s mouth. “I mean, what is the appeal of a bunch of cows? Surely you can hire someone competent to manage everything…I mean, your place is here with the people who love you.”

  A tight feeling in E.J.’s chest threatened to suffocate him. Her words sounded tinny, her laugh echoed off the hard surfaces in the room, setting off the others to chortle and snicker.

  Taylor caught his eye and sobered. “Oh, shame on us. We’re all so thrilled to have our fearless leader back, but we’re not respecting his feelings. The man just lost his father. Let’s be civil.” Her perfectly arched brows lifted in a parody of sorrow.

  Chip’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “Yes, old man, is there going to be a service or a memorial? I’m sure all the old gang will show up to support you.”

  E.J. shook his head. “No. No service. My father was interred beside my mother this afternoon in the family crypt. His will is being read in a couple of days.”

  Another chilling silence.

  Cory cleared her throat. “You know Tink and Lissy got married, don’t you? I mean, he bought her the grandest diamond ring ever.” She smiled at him. “They’re having a little soiree the day after tomorrow and told me to make sure you attend. They’re so anxious for you to rejoin the world of the living.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, my god! Did I say that? Well you know what I meant.”

  E.J. nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. Perhaps another taste of that blended whisky would make this all go down easier.

  ~*~

  That evening the sheriff came to the ranch. Breck ushered him into the parlor and Cami brought the coffee service. Her hands shook when she poured coffee into her Aunt Silky’s porcelain cups.