A Ranch Between Them, page 12
“I guess.”
“You, um, seem kind of fixated on Brady.” He spoke in a tone Katie was well familiar with. Protective older brother was showing his face.
“It distracts me from worrying about my own future, which brings me to, ‘Hey I need some advice. I’m rebuilding the greenhouse.’”
“What? Why?”
Katie launched into her explanation, glad to have redirected the conversation from her being fixated on Brady. Unlike Cassie, Nick took no issue with her abandoning the career she worked so hard for and trying something new.
“Maybe it’s selfish of me,” he said, “but I like that you’ll be on the ranch for longer than it takes to find another job.”
“I missed it more than I dreamed. And it’ll be nice to be close to my nieces.”
“Speaking of which, I have to pick up a couple of little mop tops from kiddie ballet.”
“Give them a hug for me.”
“Will do, and why don’t you send me some photos of the greenhouse, so I have an idea of just how bad the damage is.”
“Gladly.”
“You probably shouldn’t start work without me being there.”
“I’ll clear it out. Will that be okay?” she said on a dry note.
“Yeah,” Nick said, echoing her tone. “That will be fine. Talk to you later.”
As Katie put the truck in gear and headed toward the bridge, the foremost thought in her mind was that Brady would soon leave the ranch and attempt to bury himself in his isolated property on the opposite side of the mountain, but he’d be close. Kind of. And that was a good thing, because it gave her time to figure a few things out—like how she was going to get Brady to see her as a strong woman who wasn’t afraid to take a few knocks with him.
* * *
ROSALIE TUCKED A couple of stray curls into the sides of her bandanna, then sat down on the lowest step of the staircase and settled her elbows on her thighs, cupping her chin.
She and Gloria had decided on a soft opening in March. When they’d first started refurbishing the house during the summer, around the time the Taylors had purchased the Grand Ladies on either side of them, they’d hoped to open the gift part of the store before Christmas.
Wasn’t going to happen.
Rosalie was fine with that. She was enjoying the process. Enjoying working toward something she’d long dreamed about.
As long as Carl had been with her, she’d been happy on the ranch. She’d sewn and crafted and, in the years before his death, started her own Etsy store, but now that Carl was gone, she needed more. She needed to fill the gaping void in her life.
The store didn’t fill the void, but it filled her hours with things she loved to do. She’d always wanted to own a brick-and-mortar gift shop and Gloria had long talked about a garden store, so when they purchased the house, it was with the idea of fulfilling two dreams in one building. It was going well, too.
Stripping the paint from the original trim had been labor intensive, involving face masks and a lot of open windows, but now that the job was done and the oak was stained and sealed, Rosalie couldn’t imagine having done anything else. So much better than that pink that hadn’t worked for anyone. The pale-yellow walls and aqua cabinetry looked more elegant than funky now. Exactly what she’d hoped for.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the porch brought her head up.
If it was Vincent Taylor, there to “talk sense” into her again, she was going to throttle the man. She was a businesswoman now, so she’d have to do it inside, where no one could see her.
Smiling at the thought, she pushed herself to her feet and glanced in the small mosaic mirror hanging next to the heavy oak front door before she pulled it open. She looked like she’d been cleaning an attic. Tough. Vincent would simply have to avert his eyes as he tried again to strong-arm her.
Rosalie pulled open the door, ready to do battle, then her hand went to her chest as she found herself staring into a pair of electric blue eyes.
“Will.”
Her former neighbor across the river inclined his silver head. “Rosalie.”
The years had done their work, but Rosalie was still of the opinion that Will McGuire was one of the handsomest men she knew. Handsome and stubborn.
“Is there a problem, Will?”
“Does there have to be a problem?”
“No. Of course not.” She felt her cheeks start to warm as she stepped back to welcome him into the house. “I phrased that poorly. I’m just surprised to see you.”
He nodded in a way that told her that he totally understood. He and Carl had worked together innumerable times, and they’d all met at community events and social occasions over the years, but Rosalie could count the number of times she and Will had been together alone on one hand. Given that they’d been neighbors for nearly fifty years, that was saying something.
Will glanced around the house, then gave another nod. “Looks good.”
“We’re making progress,” she said. She bit her lip and tucked another curl into her bandanna. She was certain that on branding days, Will had seen her looking worse, but that didn’t stop her from feeling self-conscious about being dusty and unkept while entertaining a visitor.
“Actually, Rosalie, there is a problem.”
Her eyes widened. “Is there something I can do to help?”
“No. Because you’re the one with the problem.”
“Excuse me?”
Will flattened his mouth briefly, then said, “I heard you were having trouble with Vince Taylor and his outfit.”
“Where did you hear that?” Even to her own ears, Rosalie’s tone had a defensive edge, but she couldn’t help it. She did not like being the subject of gossip, and it was no one’s business if she and Gloria were having problems with a neighbor...who just happened to be a world-class jerk.
“Word travels. That daughter of his—Ellie, Nellie—”
“Mellie. Short for Melanie.”
“Yes. Her. She’s been shooting off her mouth to anyone that will listen.” Will hooked his thumbs in his pockets, giving Rosalie the impression that he didn’t know what to do with his hands. In fact, he seemed very self-conscious.
Maybe because they’d rarely spoken one-on-one?
That made sense.
“I think they’re trying to do your business harm before it even gets off the ground.”
Rosalie tipped up her chin. “That may well be,” she acknowledged. “I appreciate your concern.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Gloria and I will continue as we are.”
Will tightened his mouth again, and she wondered if some kind of male protective gene had kicked in. He needed to understand that while they’d been neighbors for years and she appreciated his concern, she would handle her own affairs.
“There’s not really much he can do, Will, unless he resorts to playing loud music and the like, which will not work for him if he’s in the hospitality business. He called us on the goat, but I don’t see what else he can do.”
“Legally.”
“If it’s illegal, I will not hesitate to call the sheriff.” Rosalie smiled at him. “Would you like tea?”
“No.” He swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll be leaving shortly... What about the goat?”
Rosalie explained about Lizzie Belle and the zoning laws and watched as Will’s blue eyes narrowed with irritation.
“That son of a...” His voice trailed off.
“We’ll handle it, Will.” Rosalie met his gaze dead-on as she spoke. “If we decide we need help, we’ll call—if you came to offer help, that is. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”
“Of course I came to offer help.” Will let out a breath, looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he inclined his head. “I mean it, too. Call me if you need help.”
“I’ll do that, Will.” She walked with him as far as the door. He gave her a quick look before reaching for the handle, and there was something in his blue eyes that made her breath catch, which in turn made it hard to say, “Thank you. Say hello to Travis for me.”
* * *
BRADY SIPPED HIS beer and watched through his window as Katie circled the old greenhouse, taking photos from different angles, the goat shadowing her every move. Every now and again, the little nanny would stop and stare longingly at his truck, and then trot off after Katie.
The goat was actually kind of cute—when her feet were on the ground where they belonged. Brady pushed back his chair and eased his injured foot into his boot, glad to be done with the moccasins. Picking hay out of his socks was no fun.
His day was done, so he’d see what Katie was up to and if she needed help. It’s what any ranch employee might do. What any friend would do.
He wished he only felt like her friend, but the fact of the matter was that he could not stop thinking about that kiss. Mistake? Maybe. But there was a part of him that would never regret having kissed her.
His phone dinged and he picked it up to see an answer to the email he’d sent Chet Jacobs, his agent/accountant saying there was no problem with wiring the money to Larson Stock Company. Chet just needed a few days’ notice.
Sounds good, Brady texted back before setting his phone aside and glancing out the window as he put on his other boot. Katie disappeared around the back of the greenhouse, where the lumber stacked inside of the deteriorating structure hid her from view. The goat peeked around the corner, almost like she knew Brady was watching, then disappeared with a dismissive flick of her tail. Yeah. Definitely cute.
He let himself out of the house and was met halfway to the greenhouse by the goat, who gave him a friendly head butt before following him to where Katie was taking photos. She glanced up as he came around the building, and it might have been his imagination, but it seemed like her cheeks flushed at the sight of him.
Good flush or bad?
Katie pushed her hair over her shoulder with one hand and it fell like a wave of dark silk. “You’re moving better.”
“Yeah. I am.” The swelling had gone down, and the pain was finally letting up. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Big plans?”
“I hope.” She patted the metal upright next to her. “The frame is still intact and seems sturdy enough, despite the weather. I’m taking pictures for Nick so that he can advise me.”
“You’re not waiting until he gets home?”
“Nope.” There was a gleam of determination in her blue eyes. “I want the area enclosed before the snow flies, and even though Nick hopes to start moving back by Thanksgiving, everything hinges on the sale of his business. And you know something will come up at the last minute to put a monkey wrench into things.”
“It’s always good to think positive.”
Katie laughed. “Just being realistic.”
“What are you going to do once you get it re-enclosed?”
She tucked her phone into her pocket. “I’m going to become an herb farmer. This will hopefully be the first of many greenhouses.”
“Herbs?”
She made a face at him. “You sound like Cassie. Herbs?”
Katie’s impression of her sister was so dead-on that Brady had to laugh, which in turn made him relax a smidge. It seemed that he was always on his guard around Katie, and it was wearing on him. He wanted to relax. To believe that they could be friends without him accidentally hurting her.
So just do it. Be a friend.
“But don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “Cassie is usually right. She just tends to err on the side of caution.”
“I kind of noticed that about you, too.”
“Until recently.”
Was she talking about what had happened between them, or her new business venture? Both? Good time to abandon this avenue of questioning.
“After I move the cows to the river pasture tomorrow, I’ll have more free time.” Which he’d planned to use to service the farm equipment. He was finished with the small tractor and was ready to move on to the big tractor, the swather, baler, bale wagon, but he could spare a few hours here and there. “I can give you a hand if you need it.”
Her expression brightened. “I would like help, to tell you the truth. If nothing else, I’d like to cover the broken windows and start moving junk out of here.”
“To...?”
“The boneyard. Most everything in there has been ruined by the weather, so I see no reason to protect it anymore.”
“True.”
“Do you need help with the cows tomorrow?”
“Nope. I’ll just open gates and push them along with the four-wheeler.”
“Just keep it on its wheels, okay?”
“Ha ha.” Once again, he felt like reaching out and tapping her ball cap down over her eyes just as he had the day before. When was the last time he’d felt playful like that?
Long time ago.
Pretty much when he’d been in his element, rodeoing and hanging with his own kind. When he’d dated women who understood the life and the risks and were good with it. None of them had been like Katie, planning every aspect of their life so that nothing was left to chance. Katie was tough, like all the Callahans were tough, but she was all about security. It must have killed her to get laid off—to have the monkey wrench she’d spoken of get tossed into her own carefully planned life.
Yet, here she was, taking a chance.
Although how much of chance was it, when if she failed, she still had a place to live and food to eat?
“I’d love to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
He wrinkled his forehead, being very glad she didn’t know what was going on in that head of his. “I was just thinking about cars.”
“Ri-ight.” Katie pressed her lips together, trying to maintain her mock-stern expression, but the smile broke through and something stirred deep in his gut. Protectiveness. As always. He wanted to protect her from getting hurt and he had to get a handle on that.
But helping her with her greenhouse...that wouldn’t hurt anyone. Right?
CHAPTER NINE
BRADY MOVED THE cows to the river pasture and managed to keep the four-wheeler in an upright position the entire time. Katie was going to be so proud.
He parked the machine in the barn, then headed for the greenhouse—or what was left of it. He’d researched herb farming the night before and discovered that Katie had found a nice little niche market that had excellent growth potential. Given her drive and attention to detail, he had no doubt she’d succeed. It didn’t hurt having family there for moral and possibly financial support.
His situation was markedly different. Whether he failed, or succeeded, he was on his own. There would be no parental support for him, emotional or financial, and the idea of asking for anything from his parents, even in a dire emergency, was ludicrous. They’d made their position clear through their actions while he was growing up, and Brady was good with that. He was happier on his own.
When he reached the greenhouse, Katie was carrying a long board out the door, the goat close behind her.
“Did Lizzie Belle escape?”
“I hate leaving her alone in the yard.” She brushed back her hair from her forehead with her free hand. “I’m thinking of visiting the shelter and getting a dog for company.”
“What happens when Lizzie goes back to town?”
Katie smiled. “Then I’ll have a dog for company.”
“Of course.” Katie continued on out the door and Brady went to the back of the greenhouse, where lumber had been stacked to supposedly keep it out of the weather. He grabbed three boards and hefted them. The weight tested his injured thigh, so he set down the stack and picked up the top two boards. Better. Katie came back in, picked up the board he’d left behind and together they headed for the boneyard behind the machine shed where she’d started a stack of silvery weathered boards under the eaves.
“You can sell these things, you know.”
“The thought has crossed my mind.”
They headed back to the greenhouse, walking side by side. Brady noticed that instead of the silly pink flowered gloves Katie had been wearing when she worked, she had on a pair of oversize leather gloves.
“If you sneeze, those will fly off your hands,” he said.
“Funny.” She sent him a look, giving him that feeling of deep connection that kept coming out of nowhere when he was with her—a feeling he was doing his best not to think about, because if he thought about it, he was going to have to acknowledge his growing feelings, and then he might have to do something about them. Better to remain in limbo for now. No one got hurt that way. Besides, Katie had expressly told him not to think too hard.
Brady smiled a little, and the fact that he could smile told him he was doing okay.
Katie stopped just inside the greenhouse doorway and planted her gloved fists on her hips. The interior of the place was a mess. In addition to the broken glass, there were inches of accumulated soil on the floor and a lot of water damage in the form of rust and rot.
“The benches need to be rebuilt,” Brady pointed out. The wood was rotted, and nails hung out at haphazard angles.
“I got an A in shop.”
“Of course you did.” He’d also gotten an A in shop. He’d gotten straight A’s until his senior year, when he’d spent more time on rodeo than his studies.
They moved lumber until the entire back wall was clear and all that was left in the building were some sheets of roofing metal, some asphalt shingles and an assortment of old flower pots. It took the two of them working together to move the roofing and the shingles, and then Katie suggested a break.
“Coffee or a breather?”
“Breather. The weather is due to change soon.”
Brady was about to comment that he’d noticed the same thing when he’d checked the forecast that morning, when Katie surprised him by saying, “Nick said you’re moving to the Hayden Valley.”
