An Unlikely Rancher. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ so much she’d been the one to handle their budgets. She’d never questioned that their on-base housing and utilities had been in his name.

      Before his death she hadn’t given much thought to what went on behind the scenes in banking. They’d had a joint credit card.

      After Andrew’s death she’d had to apply for one in her name. The bank had issued her a debit card, which she’d needed to watch closely, since Andrew’s benefits had been frozen until the completion of the investigation.

      Before their marriage, she’d lived with her parents. After, Andrew had been the sole breadwinner.

      Now it was all up to her.

      Andee, who had wandered ahead in the aisle, suddenly ran back and plopped a box in the basket.

      “Whoa, there. What are you getting, sweetheart?” Jenna picked it up and was surprised to see it was a supersized box of dog biscuits. “Honey, we don’t need this. I said we might not be able to get a dog because of the ostriches. Run and put this back on the shelf, please.”

      Andee pouted. “But I can feed Beezer when he comes to visit me.”

      “Uh, honey...I know you liked Beezer a lot, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up. We don’t really know his owner. I can’t think of any reason why we’ll see him again. Put the dog treats back. I promise I’ll ask Mr. Martin, the man who owned the ranch, if having a dog would scare the ostriches.”

      The girl clutched the box that bore the face of an almost dead ringer for the gray-and-cream-splotched dog she’d taken such a shine to. Then, long-faced, she dragged her feet back down the aisle, leaving her mother once again irritated over the unexpected consequences of her useless meeting with Flynn Sutton.

      * * *

      IT DIDN’T TAKE long to reach her card’s limit and pack the back of the SUV with groceries.

      In short order they reached the ranch. That brought a smile to Jenna’s face—the very fact nothing in this town—even split in two by a major highway—was more than a dozen minutes from home. Most bases they’d lived on were huge and had taken longer than this to navigate from one end to the other.

      Locked in thought, it took Jenna a few moments to register that a silver pickup with a skewed back bumper sat in the spot outside her home where she intended to park. She slowed as she noticed a man emerge from one of her sheds.

      She pulled around the pickup, stopped and released her seat belt. She heard Andee doing the same. “Sweetie, stay in your seat for a minute. There’s a man, a stranger, over by the ostrich pens. He’s probably the manager the Realtor mentioned. However, I need to have a word with him to be sure.”

      “Okay.” Andee leaned forward and pressed her nose against the side window. “Does he have a dog?”

      “None that I see,” Jenna muttered. “If he is the interim manager, I’ll ask if he knows of any problems with us getting you a dog.”

      “Yay. I hope he says it’s okay.” Andee settled back to slurp the chocolate milk they’d splurged on.

      Jenna saw the guy pull a ball cap from his back pocket as she closed the gap between them. He adjusted it to shade his eyes from the midday sun and leaned on a pitchfork he’d carried out of the shed.

      Stopping short, Jenna gave her name. “I’m the new owner,” she added. “I assume you’re the man Bud Rhodes said was taking care of the ostriches in his absence.”

      “Yep. Don Winkleman. I didn’t come by yesterday because Oscar said you were due in. I expected to hear from you.”

      “I didn’t know your schedule.”

      “Been working some every day for two years. I wanted to buy the place, but Oscar needed all his money up front and I wasn’t able to get 100 percent financing. You’ll pardon me if I say you don’t look like a rancher.”

      Jenna chuckled. “I’m still getting moved in. I have gloves and boots, so I’m sure I’ll look the part of a rancher soon.”

      “Still, all the trappings don’t make you a rancher.” Don spat off to his right and wiped his mouth with a blue kerchief he pulled from a pocket in his overalls.

      She couldn’t say she liked this guy’s tone.

      He set the pitchfork against the shed. “I manage the place. That’s worth more money.” He abruptly named a figure substantially higher than what Oscar Martin had put in his notes.

      The new amount he requested bowled her over. But Jenna refused to let his directness cow her. She figured the amount he’d named was for full management. She’d already planned that by working with him she’d soon be able to cut some of his current part-time hours. But she wasn’t about to share that idea with him now.

      “I’m not prepared to pay more than Mr. Martin was paying you.”

      “Sorry, that’s what my services are worth, little lady. It’s more than fair.”

       Little lady?

      Jenna studied his iron jaw. He thought he had her over a barrel. Maybe because she was new to the area or maybe because she was a woman. Either way his demand nettled Jenna. “Like I said, Mr. Winkleman, if you want to continue working for me, at the moment I’ll match what Mr. Martin paid you. At some future date I foresee needing less hours, though.”

      “That’s not acceptable.”

      “Well, you’re free, of course, to quit.”

      The man appeared shocked, then his face hardened and he leaned toward her. “Nobody around knows this business like I do. You’ll regret letting me go.”

      Still smarting from her failure to make any headway at the airpark, Winkleman’s attitude left Jenna doubly resolved to stand firm. “Please go. Tomorrow I’ll hire your replacement and drop off a check with Bud Rhodes for the hours you worked today.”

      Winkleman took another step toward her and fisted his hands at his sides. “You won’t find anyone in town capable of filling my shoes. Soon enough you’ll come begging and it’ll cost you even more to get me back.”

      Andee had silently left the SUV, made her way over and was now clinging to Jenna’s shirttail.

      Worried that she may have been foolish to provoke this man she knew nothing about, Jenna deliberately set Andee behind her.

      She’d never been more relieved to see a vehicle pull into her lane than at this moment. Whoever drove the newer blue pickup, their timing couldn’t have been better.

      The three watched as it drove up and stopped adjacent to the Cherokee. Only then did it cross her mind that the newcomer could be a friend of Don Winkleman’s. Just in case, she eased her cell phone out of her pocket and prepared to dial 9-1-1.

       What if this area doesn’t operate on 9-1-1?

      Stuck between a glowering Winkleman and the blue pickup, Jenna’s heart pounded.

      The door opened and Flynn Sutton, the airpark owner, emerged.

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