It had been four days, and Ryder hadn’t heard a word from Comfort Keepers. He was moving his ma in Monday and then was heading out with the cattle wagon for three days on the road. He needed a caregiver, and he needed one quick.
At least the work on the house was going smoothly. The floors were done and looked brand new. The guy who’d refinished them…Colin Burke…knew his stuff. He’d also helped Ryder spruce up the tilework in the bathroom and had built a ramp to make it easier for Siobhan to get up on the front porch without having to climb the stairs.
The cleaning crew was coming later today. After the place got a good scouring, Ryder planned to move in his mother’s furniture and give the house some semblance of hominess.
In the meantime, he was panicking. He dialed Comfort Keepers, even though he’d been exchanging texts with his case agent.
“Hey, Janine. It’s Ryder Knight again. Hey, I’m getting a little worried.” The other agency in Quincy hadn’t come through at all, and Janine had only sent him one person. Albeit a perfect person, if not for the small matter that once upon a time he’d had his hands and his mouth all over her.
Janine let out an audible sigh. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight. As I’ve explained, your remote location makes it difficult. If you were in Reno, you’d have your pick of caregivers.”
“What if I offered some kind of incentive? Like a signing bonus. Would that help?”
“It might, but the real issue is there just aren’t many qualified caregivers out your way. Unfortunately, seniors and patients in rural areas tend to rely on friends and neighbors. But that’s not something I would recommend, especially given your mother’s twenty-four-hour needs. I had hoped that you would find Ms. Nix a good match, but I’ll keep searching.”
Ryder had rejected the idea of putting an ad in the local paper. He didn’t want just anyone caring for his mother. He wanted someone with serious bona fides, someone who could properly administer his mother’s medication, someone who would recognize the signs of a stroke if, God forbid, his mother had another one. And here he was, turning away a freaking nurse with a master’s degree.
“Is there any way I could hire Ms. Nix until we found someone else?”
“Umm, I could ask, though I think she’s anxious to find permanent work. Someone with her credentials is in high demand,” Janine said. Ryder didn’t miss the sound of exasperation in her voice. If she only knew.
The funny thing was, he didn’t get why someone with Joey’s credentials wouldn’t be working in her own field. A nurse for Siobhan was overkill, not that he didn’t consider it an added plus. But he assumed the job of caregiver was below Joey’s usual pay grade. The woman was a goddamn mystery. A mystery he didn’t need. But desperation called for desperate measures.
“Can you let me know?” he asked Janine. “If she’d be willing to work on a trial basis, it would be great to get her in here by Monday.”
“No promises, Mr. Knight. But I’ll see what I can do.”
He had an hour until the cleaning crew came and figured he might as well go to town and grab lunch. Fifteen minutes later, he slid onto a bar stool at the Ponderosa. The chief of police was jawing with the bartender and bobbed his head at Ryder in greeting. He’d seen him here a couple of times, but they hadn’t formally met. Now that he was a resident, it was probably time he introduced himself.
“Ryder Knight.” He stuck out his hand and shook the cop’s. “I just moved into the old Montgomery place.”
“Yep, that’s what I heard. Rhys Shepard. Welcome to Nugget.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
“Lucky says you’re a legend…a world champion saddle bronc rider.”
“That was a lifetime ago.” Ryder stared down at his boots, then looked up. “I own Knight Trucking now. We haul livestock across the west.”
Rhys nodded. “I’ve seen your rig parked outside the Lumber Baron. My wife owns the place.”
Ah, Maddy Shepard, the innkeeper. He should’ve put it together. “Beautiful inn. A hell of a lot nicer than what I’m used to.”
“You should’ve seen it when Maddy and her brother first bought it. The place was ready to be condemned.” He grinned, obviously proud.
Ryder whistled. “You’d never know it.”
“One of my officers is your neighbor. Wyatt Lambert. Good guy.”
Life in a small town was a lot like the Cheers theme song. Everyone knew everyone else’s name. If he hadn’t grown up in Oakdale, California—“Cowboy Capital of the World”—it might’ve felt intrusive.
“That’s what I hear. My ma is moving in, and it would be great if you could keep my place on your radar when I’m out of town.” Nugget seemed like a safe place, but it didn’t hurt to have the law looking out for his mother.
“We sure will. When will she be here?”
“Next week. I’m just getting the place fixed up before I bring her home. A few months ago, she had a stroke. It landed her in the hospital and then a rehab facility. She’s still not up to full speed, but we’re working on it.”
“Sorry to hear that. Glad she came through it okay.”
“Thanks. There will be someone staying with her at the house, but I’d sure appreciate it if someone from the department drove by every now and again.”
“You can count on it,” Rhys said, looked at his watch, and grimaced. “I’ve gotta get going. Hope to see you around.”
“Back attcha.” He grabbed a menu and gave the bartender his order.
The restaurant, which reminded Ryder of a Western theme park, was quiet. Then again, it was late for lunch and too early for dinner. A baseball game played on the television behind the bar. The sound had been turned off and a Hayes Carll tune filled the dining room.
Over the last year, he’d spent a good amount of time here at the Ponderosa. It’s where he’d first laid eyes on Joey Nix.
She’d come in with that shiny blond hair of hers swinging, along with a pair of denim-clad hips, and had sat alone in the corner. There’d been a lot of women since Leslie. Mostly ladies he’d met in truck stops, who, like him, were looking for a few hours of recreation and nothing more. But no one had stirred him the way Joey had.
Maybe it had been her looks—he’d always been a sucker for a pair of baby blues—or her confidence. Or maybe he’d recognized loneliness when he saw it. Whatever it was, he’d made it known he was interested in taking her to bed.
She’d been tempted. He could see it in her eyes, in her body language, in the way she flirted with him. But something had held her back. And then one night, out of nowhere, she’d waylaid him as he was getting out of his rig, grabbed him by the collar, pushed him against his truck, and kissed him into kingdom come. Then, just as calm as you please, she got back in her little red SUV and drove away.
He hadn’t seen her since. Not until she’d shown up at his front door, sent by Comfort Keepers.
His tri-tip sandwich came, and he plowed through it, hungrier than he’d realized. Keeping one eye on the clock, he drained his beer.
“You want another?” The bartender cleared away Ryder’s glass.
“I’m good. Just the bill, thanks.”
He squared up and made it home in time to let the cleaners inside the house. While they did their thing, he unloaded furniture from the U-Haul he’d rented and stacked it up near the front door.
Around four, he took a break, grabbed a cola from the cooler in his truck, and sat on the edge of the porch, listening to the birds sing. Colin, the local who’d done his floors, made slick-looking rocking chairs. One of these days, Ryder planned to swing by Colin’s workshop and buy a few to put on the porch so he could stare out over his land and up at the Sierra mountain range. It was beautiful here, that’s for sure. And the air was so clean it was cleansing.
The ring of his phone broke the stillness. He thought about letting it go to voice mail, but it was Janine.
“Hey,” he answered. “You got news for me?”
“I have another candidate. I know you wanted a woman for your mother, but Peter Crenshaw has excellent credentials. He’s been with the agency for five years and until recently had been the caregiver for an elderly gentleman who passed two weeks ago. The family adored him, and I can get you letters of recommendation from them as well as other clients he’s worked with. Ordinarily, he works with terminal patients, but the death of this last gentleman hit him hard and he’s looking for someone who’s…” she trailed off. But Ryder could fill in the blank. Someone who wasn’t circling the drain. “I thought they’d be a good match until your mother moves to a senior community.”
“And he’s willing to come out this far?” Ryder asked, though he was hesitant. A man helping his ma in the bathroom, the shower, getting dressed; she wasn’t going to be comfortable with that.
“He is. Frankly, I think he’s anxious for change.”
Ryder blew out a breath. “I don’t know, Janine. I don’t think my mother will go for it. I’d like to keep searching for a woman. Did you talk to Ms. Nix about a trial basis?”
“I did.” She paused. “Because she’s eager to be near family in Nugget, she’s willing. But, Mr. Knight, if you decide to replace her with someone from outside of Comfort Keepers, we’ll have to charge you for the remainder of our three-month contract. So please keep that in mind. Are you sure you and your mother wouldn’t like to speak with Peter?”
Siobhan wouldn’t even let him help her in and out of the bath. And he was her freaking son. No way in hell was she going to let a male stranger do it. The screwed-up thing about it was that he was pretty sure his mother would like Joey. Besides the fact that she was female—very female—Joey had a no-nonsense air of confidence about her that would put his mother at ease.
“Level with me, Janine. What are the chances you’ll have another female caregiver for me in the next four days?” He pressed his soda bottle against his forehead.
“I’m trying the best I can, Mr. Knight. But not to sound like a broken record, given your rural location, it’ll take time.”
He banged his head against the porch railing a few times. Desperation was driving him against his better judgment. “For now, I’ll go with Ms. Nix.” He knew he’d regret it. But what choice did he have? It was her or nothing.
“Excellent. I’ll let her know. When would you like her to start?”
“If she could be in before my mother gets here, that would be great.” The transition would be difficult enough for his mom, who, before the stroke, had been a hardheaded independent woman. She hadn’t been thrilled about leaving her home, her community, and her freedom. And she’d balked at having a full-time “babysitter.” Best not to turn it into an ordeal with Joey moving her stuff in at the same time he brought Shiv home.
“Let me see about this weekend. And how would you feel about using Peter as relief for Ms. Nix? It would only be two eight-hour shifts a week.”
Ryder squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay, we’ll see how it goes.” Because what choice did he have?
By the time he got off the phone, the cleaning folks were finished. In two hours, the six-person crew had knocked down all the cobwebs, removed the dust and grime, and left the place smelling like bleach and lemons. While not the most attractive bungalow, it was now habitable.
Tomorrow, the new refrigerator, dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer would come. He was keeping the stove, which, according to Colin, worked like a charm. And then there was the fact that Ryder just plain liked the vintage feel of the antique stove. It had seen some life, just like Ryder.
He spent the remainder of the evening moving in his mother’s boxes and setting up the furniture. His ma’s stuff was old and a little worse for wear, but when she’d bought it, the pieces had been quality. Siobhan Knight had worked her whole life scrimping and saving to make a good life for her and her son. Ryder’s dad hadn’t stuck around long enough to celebrate his kid’s first birthday. Last Ryder heard, the old man owned a small ranch in Colorado with one of his sons from his second family. Well, they could have him. Tanner had never done Ryder nor his ma much good.
Shiv, though, had more than made up for the old man’s absence. With not even so much as an associate degree, she’d managed to get a job with the Stanislaus County Superior Court, working for Judge Morgan Lester as his court clerk. She’d been in his courtroom for more than thirty years and had read the verdicts in some of the most high-profile civil and criminal cases that county had ever seen. When she retired, Judge Lester threw her a party at his private club, and everyone from the sheriff to the district attorney had been there.
On her single salary, she’d managed to buy them a small house with enough yard for him to have a swing set and later a basketball hoop. When he was old enough, he worked weekends and summers at a neighboring ranch to pitch in with the expenses. It was there that he’d found his love for all things horses and ultimately riding bucking broncs.
His ma had supported him through the California High School Rodeo Association, putting a lot of miles on their old car attending his events. And when he’d gotten a rodeo scholarship to Cal Poly, she’d made sure he had enough spending money to keep up with the other kids. When he’d won his first million, he upgraded her from their small house in Oakdale to a two-story, luxury town house in Modesto. She’d been so damned proud of that place. And now she couldn’t live there anymore. Climbing the stairs was too much after the stroke.
So it was his turn to look after her the way she had him.
He hung pictures on the wall, including a few of him as a kid, hoping it would make her feel more at home. By the time he finished, it was past eleven. The place needed a few more lights. Tomorrow, after the appliances came, he’d go on the lookout for lamps. Maybe get that bench for the shower Joey had recommended.
He did a walk-through to admire his handiwork. The living room wasn’t half bad furnished. There’d been enough room for his mother’s sofa and love seat. He’d hung the flatscreen over the fireplace and positioned the recliner so his mother could comfortably watch her shows. Her bedroom could still use some personal touches, but at least the bed was made with fresh linens and he’d gotten most of her clothes hung in the closet.
Not bad for a day’s work.
He shut out the lights and headed across the yard to his fifth wheel, more tired than he’d been in a long time. It wasn’t the physical labor; it was all the decision making. For so long, he’d only been responsible for himself. And the biggest choices he’d had to make was where to eat and sleep. Or whether to drive the whole night through.
He preferred it that way. The last time he’d made a decision for someone he loved, it had cost her her life.