True to her word, Abby took over the outside chores starting Sunday and harassed Jess if he tried to do too much. But on Tuesday afternoon he felt better, and the prospective ranch hand he’d talked to last week actually came on time for an interview.
Jess had already done a background check on him, so when Phil Crandall showed up with a reference in hand from a big cattle operation in Texas and gave knowledgeable answers to every question Jess asked, it didn’t take long to decide.
While Phil waited in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, Jess went back to his office to follow up on the man’s reference letter with a phone call, then hired him on the spot.
“Phil’s cabin is all set,” Abby said at breakfast the next morning. “I scrubbed everything and took a set of bed linens and towels up there. It’s a nice little place, actually. Have you ever rented out those cabins to tourists?”
Jess shook his head. “Dad built just three of them to house a foreman and several hired hands, but we’ve only had one ranch hand at a time here during the past few years.”
“They’re nice enough for tourists, if you ever decide to run a dude ranch.” She winked at him. “I’m sure you’d love that. Kids running everywhere, petting the cows and horses...exploring the tack room, climbing on the hay bales.”
He knew she was teasing, but he still cringed at the thought. “Strangers in and out of here all the time? Dealing with that kind of liability on a working ranch? No thanks.”
Betty looked up from her crossword puzzle. “I always thought it might be fun, meeting all of those people from who knows where, but your dad never wanted to rent the cabins either.”
Abby started clearing the table. “So how do I handle a hired hand’s meals and laundry?”
“There’s a laundry room in the tack room, where we wash the horse blankets.” Jess took a sip of coffee. “He can use those machines or go to the laundromat in town.”
He went to pull on his boots and jacket. “As for meals, the hired hands usually join us, but this guy seemed pretty noncommittal. I’ll ask him what he prefers so you’ll know what to expect.”
At the sound of an old pickup rattling up the lane, Poofy started barking and the twins left the table to peek out the kitchen windows.
Bella looked at Jess over her shoulder. “He has a funny truck. It’s different colors.”
Jess looked out the window. “It looks like he’s replacing the fenders and doors piece by piece as he can afford to. When it’s done he’ll probably paint it all one color.”
“Now it’s like a coat of many colors, girls.” Betty set aside her pencil and closed her book of puzzles. “Do you remember the Bible story about Joseph?”
Bella nodded. “His coat must have been pretty.”
“Sophie is staying home sick another day, so we’ll hear that story again when you get home, Bella,” Abby said. “But we need to get to the school bus in less than ten minutes, so go brush your teeth and put on your coat and boots. Quickly.”
Quickly was a subjective word, Jess had discovered, when it came to getting the girls off to school. Even if he’d collected boots, shoes, hats, mittens and backpacks the night before, it was always a scramble in the morning. Especially when the girls weren’t cooperative.
“Bella, I need to go outside to welcome the new ranch hand. But I want to see you bundled up and heading for the bus stop in eight minutes, all right? No excuses.”
Bella raced down the hall to the bathroom, and Abby looked up from stuffing papers into her backpack to give him an amused smile. “I guess I need to practice my Jess voice.”
Her smile made his insides tighten and made him want to linger just to see it again. He wondered if there was any way that she could be as aware of him as he was of her.
But he doubted it.
She was the one who had left town, married someone else and been gone for twelve long years. He needed to ignore the old feelings that kept resurfacing and just move on.
But with every passing day that was getting harder to do.
* * *
Abbie left Sophie in the house with Grandma Betty, and after putting Bella on the school bus, she went looking for Jess and his new hired hand. She found them in the feed room of the horse barn, where Jess was pointing out the complex, individualized rations listed on a blackboard for the thirty horses in the barn.
He glanced at her. “Abby Halliday, this is Phil Crandall. Phil, Abby is our nanny.”
The new hired hand was wiry, maybe five foot six, wearing faded jeans, scuffed roper boots and a fleece-lined denim jacket. Beneath his crumpled Stetson she could see that his weather-beaten, leathery skin spoke of a lifetime spent in the Montana sun.
He pointedly studied her bare left hand, then glanced between Jess and her as if sizing up the situation. Then he fixed his eyes on hers and bared his tobacco-stained teeth in a semblance of a smile. “Very nice making your acquaintance, ma’am. The scenery just got a whole lot nicer on this winter day.”
Relief slid through her when he didn’t extend a hand to her, but even so she took a step back. “I’m sure you’ll be a great help around here, Mr. Crandall.”
Jess slanted a curious look at her. “Phil and I were just talking. He says he’d rather not come up to the house for breakfast and lunch, but he’ll join us for dinner.”
Phil chuckled, his gaze still riveted on Abby. “You know, I’ve just had second thoughts about lunch. Good food, good company, nice scenery...how could I pass that up?”
“Right.” She felt a cold shiver race through her. “Jess, I need to take Betty to her PT appointment after lunch. Will you be able to watch Sophie?”
Jess nodded. “I’ll stay in the house with her until you get back.”
“You’ll watch her closely, right? She’s still not feeling well. The digital thermometer is in the—”
“Medicine cabinet, top shelf,” Jess said dryly. “I won’t leave her for a minute. This isn’t my first rodeo with the girls being sick, you know. Betty and I have dealt with strep throat, norovirus, ear aches and bronchitis. Not at the same time, of course.”
She felt her cheeks flush. It was true. She’d been here for two weeks, but Jess had been responsible for the girls for almost a year. What was she thinking? Except...with every day she spent with them, she loved them more, and it was already hard to leave them in someone else’s care.
“Of course—you’re right,” she said, a little embarrassed. “It’s just...”
“I know. While I’m in the house with Sophie, Phil can finish settling into his cabin, then he can start hauling hay out to the cattle.” He shot a quick grin at his new hired hand. “Great having you on board.”
He turned back to the blackboard to continue discussing horse feed and Abby hurried to the house, feeling as if spiders had just skittered down her back.
She knew Jess had done a background check on Phil. The man hadn’t said anything blatantly wrong and he hadn’t made a wrong move. Yet something about him warned her of danger, and she’d learned long ago to listen to her instincts.
She silently reviewed the techniques she learned in the self-defense classes she’d taken while teaching in Chicago’s inner-city schools.
She just hoped she wouldn’t need them.
* * *
After serving lunch, and carefully avoiding eye contact with Phil, who seemed to watch her every move, Abby watched him head for his cabin, then left Sophie and Jess playing a round of Candy Land by the fireplace and took Betty into town for her PT appointment.
In the parking lot of the clinic, she helped Betty get started with her walker and went with her to the front desk. As soon as she was checked in, Abby helped her take a seat in the waiting room. “You certainly seem more stable on your feet now. And a lot more chipper, as well.”
“With all of the exercises I’m doing, I should be ready for the next Winter Olympics,” Betty said with a chuckle. “Either ice dancing or the luge. What do you think?”
Abby laughed and gave her wrinkled hand a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “I wouldn’t put either of them past you. I’m going to run a few errands. Call me if you’re done early, but otherwise I’ll be back at the usual time.”
Abby stepped out of the clinic into the bright winter sunshine and headed down the sidewalk to Millie’s Café, wondering if her father would actually show up.
The chances were probably slim to none if Darla had seen Abby’s text this morning, so she might end up sitting alone with her cup of coffee back at the rehab clinic. But she had to try.
Inside the front door, she scanned the coffee shop with its old-fashioned lunch counter, where two retired ranchers were hunched over their coffees talking cattle prices, then glanced around the dining area. A dozen empty Formica-topped tables filled the center space, while six booths with high backs lined up along the big front windows.
Defeated, she turned to leave, when she saw her father stand up slowly from the farthest booth.
He rolled the brim of his old Resistol in both hands—a nervous gesture that touched her heart because he’d raised her to follow his rule that no real cowboy ever risked damaging the perfect curve of his hat brim.
“Hey, Dad,” she said softly. “I’m glad you came.”
He nodded once and waved her into the booth, then lifted his coffee mug and gestured to the waitress behind the counter.
The woman brought a cup of coffee over for Abby. “Anything else, darlin’?”
“Do you still serve Millie’s strawberry-rhubarb pie?”
“Sure enough—and she still makes it herself, every day. There’s just one slice left, if you want it.”
“Yes, ma’am. For my dad. À la mode, please.”
The waitress nodded and returned with the pie, then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Do you remember this, Dad?”
He forked up a bite of the delectable ruby pie filling and flaky crust. “You always wanted this whenever you came into town with me. When you were just a little girl.”
“Now you’ll get to set new traditions with Lanna, right?” Abby asked gently, watching his expression. “Now that you’ve married her mother.”
“I should have told you about Darla. But everything just happened so fast.” He dropped his gaze to the plate in front of him. “And she’s been real afraid.”
“Why?” Abby asked cautiously.
“I think she thought you’d try to talk some sense into me before it was too late,” he admitted gruffly. “You get to my age and figure you’ll just have another decade alone, and then you’ll die.”
“Oh, Dad,” Abby whispered. “That sounds so sad.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. But then someone with a loving heart comes along, and how can you turn away from that?”
“Where did you two meet?”
“An Angus-cattle convention. Reno.”
“She’s a rancher?”
“Does she look like a rancher to you, with all that glitter?” His laugh lines deepened briefly, as if he were recalling a sweet memory. “She was a hostess in the convention hall. It was crowded, and she bumped into me with an armload of catalogs. They flew all over the floor. And then she started to cry.”
“You would have told me to just pick it all up, stop sniveling and get back to work.”
The depth of sadness in his eyes nearly stole her breath. “After your mom left I made so many mistakes with you, Abby. But it’s too late to change anything now.”
He’d been cold and stern, and he’d often dealt with conflicts by stomping out of the house and disappearing into the barn, leaving her confused and angry and even a little afraid. She’d cried herself to sleep many a time as a child. Yeah, there’d been mistakes—but then she hadn’t been perfect either.
“I always figured I could’ve done better at raising a boy. But when you came along all pretty and sweet, I was buffaloed from day one. Never did know how to say or do the right thing with any woman—but especially with you. Never had the patience either.”
Hearing his voice break as he laid bare those regrets chipped at the wall she’d built around her heart. She was an adult now, not an emotional teenager perpetually hurt and angry at his distant demeanor. It was time to let go of the past.
“Parents try to do their best, Dad. No one is born an expert.”
“The one thing I knew was that the world was a hard place for a woman. Unforgiving. Dangerous. So I tried to make you tough, so nothing could ever break you. But maybe all I ever did was drive you away.” His brow furrowed. “Now I have a chance to do better, and I’m hoping I don’t mess this up, too.”
“With Lanna?”
“Darla.” He lifted his gaze from his coffee. “That day she and I met? She was overwhelmed after a fight with her ex-husband. Terrified that he might keep her from seeing her daughter. Darla happened to fall apart right in front of me, and for once in my life, I must’ve said the right things. We went for coffee and talked for hours. Me.” He shook his head in wonder. “I figured she was way too young for an old coot like me. But, well...”
“You ended up together,” Abby said gently.
He’d always been cantankerous. Impatient. But now he seemed...more at peace, somehow.
“Now I just hope I can make her happy. She’s never had a real family—the kind that sticks with you no matter what. Wrong side of the tracks, some scrapes with the law in high school. Always ended up with the wrong guys.”
“She had a rough life.”
“She never had much until she married Greg, and then she found out money isn’t everything. He turned out to be a big mistake. We had to change the house phone and cell numbers because he called all times of the day and night harassing her. I finally did give him the ranch number again because of Lanna, but told him we’d block him if he caused any more trouble.”
Abby shuddered. “What if he comes to your ranch?”
“He does sometimes, to drop off Lanna. But the first time he tried to harass Darla, I marched him back out to his shiny new Navigator with my shotgun.” Dad snickered. “I said he was welcome to pick up or drop off their daughter. But if he tried to intimidate Darla again, I would report him to the sheriff and those fancy tires and the side of that SUV would be full of buckshot. And he would be next.”
“What did he do, threaten you right back?”
Dad snorted. “That rich, spoiled city boy? He’s the kind who enjoys bullying someone weaker but is terrified of facing the same thing himself.”
He pushed his coffee mug to one side. “I don’t judge Darla for the choices she made in her past, and she doesn’t care that I’m older—that I’m not some guy with a fancy job and flashy car. We’re a good, solid match, honey.”
Honey? He’d never called her that. If Darla’s influence softened this much, it was a miracle. A warm glow filled her heart. “One of the little Langford twins thought Darla was pretty as a princess.”
“I figured she always wore flashy clothes to feel better about herself.” His smile faded. “I hoped things would be better for her once we were hitched. But she says people in town look down at her as if she were a gold digger who caught herself a lonely old man. It breaks her heart. Betty is the only person in town who even welcomed her.”
Abby felt a niggle of guilt over her own assumptions, though Darla had hardly been friendly either. “Maybe everyone just needs to get to know her better.”
He glanced around the empty coffee shop, then lowered his voice. “It’s nobody’s business but ours. But people are dead wrong if they think she came after my money. She knows that almost everything I own is in a revocable trust with only your name on it, and that’s how it will stay.”
Abby blinked. “I never meant to pry. I mean, I didn’t—”
He waved away her rising embarrassment. “I set it all up with my lawyer years ago. But just so you know, I did update my will. When I die, Darla will be able to buy a nice house somewhere and will have some money to live on. I figure it’s only fair.”
“Of course, Dad. But honestly, I hadn’t thought about all of this,” Abby said faintly. “I’ve never imagined a time when you wouldn’t be out on the ranch raising your Angus cattle.”
“If you fail to set up a will, you’re a fool. You’ll leave a big, expensive legal mess for your family,” he growled. “That’s what my father said to me, and it’s what I’m telling you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dad reached across the table and rested his hand on hers. “It’s been a long time, Abby. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me, too. I hope we can stay in touch after I leave.” Her gaze fell on his work-worn hand, the thinning flesh revealing the intricate outlines of the bones and rope-like veins, and she thought about how hard he’d worked all his life.
If Darla made him happy and she treated him right, then that was all Abby needed to know.
She caught a glimpse of his watch. “Oh my word! I need to pick up Betty Foster at the clinic. She’s waiting for me.”
She slipped on her jacket and gathered her purse and gloves. “I...I hope you and Darla will be very happy, Dad. Maybe we can all get together sometime? Though I’m not sure Darla would like that.”
Rising to his feet, Dad pulled on his coat and settled his old Resistol in place. “I know how she’s been toward you since you came back to town, and we had a long talk. She’s scared that you’ll do everything you can to talk me into believing that our marriage was a mistake.”
“She must think I’m an ogre,” Abby said with a pained laugh.
“No—just a grown-up daughter who’s worried about her father.”
“To be honest, I was concerned. If she was trying to take advantage of you, I would do everything I could to protect you. But...it sounds like everything is going to be okay.”
“Maybe for you, too,” he said as he pulled on his gloves. He raised an eyebrow. “Could be you’ll decide to stick around.”
“If you’re referring to Jess, there’s no chance of that.” At the door of the café, she stopped. “You know, Thanksgiving is next week. Would you two like to join us for dinner?”
His eyes lit up. “That would be real nice. I’ll need to ask Darla. I’m hoping she says yes.”
“Me, too, Dad.” And as Abby walked out the door, she was surprised at how much she really meant it.