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KIERA TOPPED OFF HER coffee mug and followed Derek to his office, making a quick detour to grab her laptop. First, she decided, she’d let him explain what he needed in the way of bookkeeping, then work on setting up a system. Her proposal could wait until after she’d proven herself someone he could trust. And respect.
He motioned her to his desk. She set her laptop case on the end table by the sofa and settled in to the oversized leather chair. There was a not-unpleasant aroma overlying the leather. Horse mixed with aftershave, she thought. English Leather? Her granddad wore that. She hadn’t noticed the scent on Derek. Judging from the worn patches, a multi-generational chair.
He pointed to a folder on the desk. “There’s a login for you, and the list of files related to bookkeeping. I have to tell you, things aren’t looking great right now, which has nothing to do with my former bookkeeper’s retirement. We’re in a drought, which means supplementing feed, hauling water. Prices have skyrocketed on everything but beef, it seems. At least what I can get for mine. Agriculture’s a tough business. Lots of ups and downs, and you hope you’ll build up enough of a cushion during the ups to get you through the downs.”
“I understand. Managing people’s portfolios is similar in a lot of ways. We can’t predict where the market will be in a month, much less ten years down the road. Trying to build nest eggs for clients means there’s a lot of risk-taking. Do you have income outside your ranch?”
He dragged his hands through his hair. “Not much. This ranch has been in the family for three generations. I don’t want to be the one who sends it under. My dad did well enough so he could retire after my mom had a stroke. Asking them for help is off the table. Any of his investments are his and I don’t want to touch them.”
“Got it. If you’re okay with it, I’ll go through your files and records, see where things stand, and what suggestions I might have. It’ll take a good while, so if you need to get back to your ranching duties, that’s fine. If I have questions, I’ll make a list, and we can go over everything after you’re done.”
He looked relieved, which did nothing other than pile on the pressure. Until she saw his books, she had no way of knowing how much help she could be. Handing him spreadsheets where expenses outweighed income was unacceptable. Not without showing him ways to reverse it. She opened the folder, then logged in to his computer.
“I’ll be back by three,” Derek said.
“I should have something for you by then.” She could only hope it would be good news. If he was afraid he’d be responsible for the end of the Triple-D Ranch, she was not going to play a role in its failure. She didn’t fail. Not an option.
He’d given her access to income and expense records. She’d go back five years, get a feel for the ranching business. None of her clients had been ranchers, or farmers, or even raised chickens. Didn’t mean she couldn’t do the job. Income and expenses were income and expenses. While it would be nice if she could find a category of expenditures that had nothing to do with running his ranch and tell him to stop spending money on it, she doubted that would happen.
First, she grabbed her new cell phone from her laptop case. She had six days left on her current billing cycle, and she’d opted to keep both numbers active for that time, but she’d do well to start transitioning people now. She texted Madelynn.
It’s Kiera. Use this number if you need to reach me. Don’t give it to anyone else.
A happy face emoji came back a few seconds later.
Who else needed the new number?
Her house sitter. What if Stu came around? Kiera texted her.
It’s Kiera. New phone number. Don’t give it to anyone. If this man comes around, let me know immediately.
She added a picture of Stu from the company website.
Is he dangerous? was the response.
Was he? Stu stayed under the radar. He wouldn’t call attention to himself. At least she hoped not.
No. A pest. Better to steer clear.
Got it. Having fun?
Kiera sent a happy face in reply.
Next, the insurance adjuster. She didn’t have a firm time for the appointment, which would have to be at the body shop. She went to her old phone, found the insurance company’s number and punched it into the new one. She’d copy her contacts to the new number later, a step she’d skipped in the interest of time when she’d gotten the new phone.
The receptionist answered, and Kiera explained the change.
“I have you down with the adjuster at three-thirty. He’ll call when he’s on his way.”
Kiera thanked her and set to work. The stacks of file folders Derek had moved aside the other night could wait. A quick look said they were receipts, invoices, and bank statements. She’d have to compare them to what was entered into the current system.
Why wasn’t Derek doing more of this online? Her first question for their discussion this afternoon. Manual entries opened the door for mistakes.
After a short time scrolling through the previous spreadsheets, she determined the original bookkeeper had been using long out-of-date software. Kiera suspected whoever it was had never updated their system. While if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it was a reasonable approach, it had its limits. Looking at the most recent entries, whoever the replacement was seemed to be using a self-made system. Or, after scrolling through the last three months, no system at all. Who was this replacement bookkeeper? A friend or family member of the previous one, in need of work?
What if these last months were Derek’s entries? She’d have to remember to tread softly when she brought them up.
She jotted notes, pulling out sections of the current data, flagging discrepancies, places where she’d have expected entries. By noon, her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten a cowboy breakfast. She wandered into the kitchen, where Tanya was singing quietly as she sliced onions on a mandolin. She looked up and grinned. “Betcha you’re hungry, working all morning.”
“It’s only been a few hours, but yes, I could eat.” Kiera thought of the upcoming ranch dinner. “A snack will be fine. I’ll make it myself if you’ll point me to what I can have.”
Tanya wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron and moved to the fridge. “Chef Sabrina says if you work fast enough on the onions, you’ll be done afore they make you cry. Or if you’re tall enough so the fumes can’t get to your eyes. I find this gadget speeds things up fine for me. Don’t mean my eyes don’t water.”
Tanya pulled out a plastic container and set it on the counter. “Sandwich fixins in here. Mayo, mustard, all that’s in the fridge door. Bread’s on the counter.”
Glad Tanya hadn’t fussed and insisted on cooking for her, Kiera looked at the assortment of lunch meats and cheeses. She took a couple slices of ham and Swiss cheese, put them on a paper towel. “This is fine.” She hadn’t checked Derek’s food budget, or what he paid Tanya. Physical labor demanded plenty of good food, and it made sense to pay someone to create it.
From outside, a crack of thunder shook the house. Loud enough that Kiera thought someone had dropped a bomb. Seconds later, the lights went out.
Lightning. Thunder. Not a bomb. Kiera’s next thought was Did I hit Save? It was such a reflex, she couldn’t remember doing it, but she couldn’t remember not doing it, either. She’d find out once the power came on. Did Derek have a battery backup? It had never occurred to her to ask.
“Do these outages happen a lot?” she asked Tanya.
“Here and there, now and then.”
“Do they last a long time?”
“Not usually, but bein’ as we’re out in the country here, we’re no priority for the electrical people. Worst I remember was a big winter storm, lots of trees and power lines down. Was nearly two days. Usually, couple hours is the most.”
Kiera finished her snack and went back to Derek’s office. Her laptop had enough battery power so she could work on her proposal.
She logged in as the rain drummed against the roof. What did cowboys do if they were caught in a thunderstorm? Did she dare grab her camera and find them? She dashed to her car to grab her rain jacket and camera from the guesthouse.
~~
FRANK GLANCED AT THE darkening skies. Pumpkin snorted and pawed the ground, clearly unhappy about being here. A distant flash of light in the sky said a storm was brewing. The rumble of thunder followed. Frank hadn’t timed the interval, but he’d put it at about five seconds. Which way the storm was headed wasn’t clear, but from Pumpkin’s reaction, it was coming toward them.
Frank patted the mare’s neck. “We’re almost done, girl. Hang in there a little longer.”
Derek loped over. “We’re missing one animal. They seem to be ahead of us when it comes to anticipating the weather.” He pointed west. “I’m going to check those stands of trees. Bad enough cattle are the highest points in most of the pastureland but standing under trees is asking for trouble. You take the low spots to the north. Should be able to beat the storm.”
“Roger that,” Frank said, tapping two fingers to the brim of his Stetson. The wind swirled the pine boughs, and the tall grasses bowed in submission. He urged Pumpkin into an easy trot. The terrain in this pasture was hillier than the rest, and the gullies provided too many hiding places for the cattle.
At the ridgeline, he guided a reluctant Pumpkin along, peering below for signs of the missing cow. Part of his brain busied itself wondering who Ed Parker was, and why he had it in for Derek. Last night’s searches had all been dead ends.
Motion caught his eye. Something running along the ravine? Cow? Mountain lion? Bear? He stood in the stirrups for a better look. A bolt of lightning, followed almost immediately by a resounding clap of thunder, boomed loud enough to transport Frank to the battlefield. He flew through the air, bouncing and rolling to the bottom of the gully.
The wind knocked out of him, Frank let his senses take the slow route to reality. Thunder, not gunfire. Pumpkin had responded to the thunderclap by bucking in panic, catching Frank off guard.
After making sure he’d incurred no serious damage, Frank started up the gully. He’d gone about three feet when the skies opened up. Great. Wet grass and smooth-soled cowboy boots didn’t make for quick progress. Made more sense to stay down here, look for the cow.
If it had been a cow. A mountain lion was a possibility, but unusual at this time of day. Or in this weather. Animals were smart enough to look for shelter. He hoped—if it had been a mountain lion he’d seen—it wasn’t one of the ones too stupid to get out of the rain, because Frank’s shotgun was on his saddle.
Speaking of saddles and animals smart enough to get out of the rain, where was Pumpkin? A scan of the top of the ridge didn’t show a rust-colored mare looking for him. Frank’s whistle was swept away by the wind.
He continued his search for the cow. Fully drenched with no sight of the animal, Frank hoped Derek had found it where he was looking. After the rustling, concern the animal hadn’t wandered off by itself surfaced, but taking a single animal was far different from releasing a pasture full of them. Cattle didn’t show up for roll call, and numbers being off by one or two was a relatively common occurrence.
Thinking about stampedes made Frank wonder if more of the cattle had made a run for it. In a blind panic, they might ignore the fencing and perhaps break through, leaving Derek right where he’d been two days ago, although this time, he’d have Mother Nature, not a rustler, to thank.
Without Pumpkin, there was no way he could hoof it through the pasture and check. He was sure everyone would make rounds of all the pastures as soon as the rain let up.
The thunderclaps morphed to low grumbles. More distant now, but they weren’t going away. Neither was the rain. Totally drenched, Frank gave up his search and made his way to the top of the gully. Not many trees here, so he’d be a lightning magnet. The sooner he got to the ranch, the better. The pickup and trailer were less than half a mile away, so he slogged in that direction.
He estimated he’d covered half the distance when his phone rang. He worked it out of his soaked pocket, wiped the screen to read the display. Derek.
“This is Frank.”
“Are you all right? Bryce spotted Pumpkin wandering toward the trailer.”
Frank hunched his shoulders and used his body in a futile attempt to keep the phone dry. “I’m okay. Wet. Cold. I’m a ten-minute walk away.”
“You want one of us to bring your mount?”
“At this point, wouldn’t save more than a couple of minutes. Be nice if the truck’s heater was running when I get there, though.”
“A sentiment shared by all of us.”
“Appreciate you waiting for me. You find the missing cow? I came up empty here.”
“I did. She’s fine, back huddling with her cohorts. All accounted for.”
“Be there soon.” Frank disconnected, wriggled the phone into his back pocket, and picked up the pace. If Derek had found the missing heifer, then whatever he’d seen moving in the ravine could have been a mountain lion. While Frank doubted the cat would attack a human, a steer or heifer was a different story. Derek would be the one to decide what to do. Knowing the precarious state of his budget, losing even one animal would have a significant impact on the ranch’s bottom line.
Could Kiera help, or was she simply going to straighten out Derek’s books and show him the bad news?
Frank arrived at the trailer as Bryce loaded the last of the horses. The pickup’s engine growled, getting things warm for the cowboys.
Derek had his phone out, checking a weather app. “This storm is going to go on for some time. Let’s call it a day for now. Be prepared for an early start tomorrow. Riding by zero five hundred.”
Derek climbed behind the wheel of the pickup, where Charlie waited, panting, anxious to get moving. The rest of them took their seats. The smell of dog breath and wet dog overpowered the usual cowboy aromas of dirt and horse. Frank folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.
When they got to the barn, each of them hurried to care for their horses, removing tack, wiping them down, leading them to the shelter of their stalls. Bryce went to the CD player and the barn filled with the strains of classical music. It calmed the horses, and Bryce had made it clear the only music allowed came from the CDs on the shelf. Mozart or Beethoven, although Frank would be hard-pressed to tell which one of them had composed the music wafting through the barn.
Once Frank was sure Pumpkin was no worse for wear after she’d spooked, he gave her some apples and carrots, then patted her neck. “Next time, wait for me, okay?”
He squished his way across the yard to the house, eager to get into dry clothes.
Was that Kiera’s car at the edge of the barn? Why would she be out here and not in the house?