The Rancher and the Vet. Julie Benson

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СКАЧАТЬ if either he or Colt would do that after the hell their father put them through.

      After plating the chicken and sautéed vegetables, he walked to Jess’s room and knocked on the door. High-pitched barking sounded from inside. “Dinner’s ready.”

      The door opened, and Jess stood there, a brown Chihuahua clutched to her chest. The dog immediately growled at him. “This is Thor?”

      “What’s wrong with my dog?” Jess asked, her voice laced with distrust and irritation.

      Did all teenage girls twist the simplest questions into knots?

      “When your dad told me you had a dog named Thor, this wasn’t the image that came to mind.” He’d envisioned a border collie or a shepherd mix. A dog that would be useful around a ranch, not one that fitted in a girl’s purse. “Why’d you name him Thor? Don’t girls usually name their dogs Mr. Boots or Prince Charming?”

      “And you know that because you’re such an expert?” Still clutching the dog, she stalked past him toward the kitchen.

      He still couldn’t get over the difference in his niece’s appearance since he’d seen her last. With her dark brown shoulder-length hair and wearing enough makeup to start her own makeup counter, she was fourteen going on twenty-two.

      When he reached the kitchen, Jess was seated at the round oak table, her dog settled on her lap. He was having dinner with his niece and her dog. Dogs belonged under the table begging for scraps, not seated on someone’s lap. He opened his mouth to tell her to put Thor down, but paused. A fire burned in her eyes, as if she dared him to say something, as if she was spoiling for a fight. He’d entered labor negotiations where people looked at him with less animosity. A smart businessman picked his battles carefully.

      Reed reached for the plate of chicken. The dog peered over the table and snarled.

      “Does he growl at everyone, or is it just me he doesn’t like?”

      “He’s very sensitive.” Jess picked up a small piece of chicken and fed the morsel to her pet. “In his head, you came and Dad left. It’s kind of a cause-and-effect thing.”

      “You sure it’s okay for him to be eating chicken with soy sauce and all those spices?”

      Jess rolled her eyes and made a tsking sound with her tongue as though she was the Dog Whisperer and he the idiot who couldn’t spell dog.

      This charged silence couldn’t continue between them. Even he could tell she was bottling up her emotions, and anger simmered barely below the surface. Better to bring things out in the open than have them explode later, but how?

      “What about you? What are your thoughts?” Reed kept his voice level and unconcerned.

      “It’s not like I had any choice.”

      “When I was your age, not having any say about something ticked me off big-time.” Not that his father had ever noticed. Or would’ve cared if he had.

      Jess shrugged and handed her dog another bite of chicken.

      This was getting him nowhere. Could he use a strategy he applied to employees with Jess? Build a team atmosphere? “I know this is hard for you, and I’ve got to admit, it’s not easy for me, either. Since Mom died when Colt and I were a little younger than you are now, we grew up in an all-male household, but I’m not that bad a guy, am I?”

      Jess eyed him cautiously. “I don’t know. The last time you were here, you left the toilet seat up. That really ticks a woman off, you know.”

      The chip Jess carried around on her shoulder had to be getting heavy. Maybe if he made her laugh, she’d loosen up. “In a show of good faith I’ll invest in one of those toilets that have an automatic seat-lowering feature.”

      His niece smiled, ever so slightly. “Whatever.”

      “I wouldn’t want to have to call your dad and tell him you fell into the toilet.”

      “Eww! Thanks for putting that image in my head!”

      Her bright giggle thrilled him, easing the tightness in his chest. Maybe they could make a go of this. At least long enough for him to change her mind about staying with her grandparents. “I haven’t worked on a ranch since I went to college.” He’d gone to summer school to avoid coming back. “I’ll be relying on you a lot.”

      Her smile faded, and her chocolate eyes darkened. “If you think I’m going to do all the work around here, forget it.”

      “I was thinking of you as an expert consultant.” Giving someone a title helped an employee feel vested in a project. She nodded, but remained quiet. “Do I have any redeeming qualities, or am I a total pain in the ass?”

      As Jess eyed him he could practically see the biting comment forming in her mind. Then her gaze softened. “You’re a good cook. Even better than Dad, so at least we won’t starve.”

      It wasn’t much, but it was something.

      * * *

      THE NEXT MORNING AT FIVE Reed dragged himself out of bed, threw on jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the barn. He went to the hayloft and grabbed a bale, jumping when a rat scurried over his boots. At least it wasn’t a snake. He’d never gotten used to them. What was the rule about which ones were poisonous? Something about red, black and yellow being a friend of Jack or killing a fellow, but that’s all he recalled. Making a mental note to check Google for poisonous-snake sayings for future reference, he tossed the hay out of the loft.

      While his muscles strained against the unfamiliar work, part of him had come to enjoy the physical exertion. The upside was he collapsed into bed at night exhausted enough that being back in his old bedroom didn’t prevent him from falling asleep. Of course, he didn’t sleep all that well, either, but one out of two wasn’t bad.

      He filled the hay bins in the stalls, then gave each horse some grain and fresh water. Next he went in search of a saddle, surprised to find his old one in the tack room. He smiled, remembering how he’d saved for a year to buy it. He ran his hand over the suede seat and the basket-weave tooling, then lifted the saddle and carried it into the stall of a calm chestnut. His body went into autopilot, his hands efficiently accomplishing the task of saddling the horse.

      He rubbed the horse’s neck. “Go easy on me. It’s been a while since I’ve done any riding.” Then hauled himself onto the animal. The old leather creaked under his weight. His heels tapped the horse’s flanks, and the animal responded. So far so good. He was in the saddle, not on his ass in the hay.

      As he made his way across the ranch toward the cow pasture, Reed settled into a rhythm with the horse. The stiffness he’d woken up with from tossing and turning most of the night eased with his movements. Colt had told him to keep a close eye on the cows. For a small herd, Colt said, they caused a surprising amount of trouble. Most of which revolved around finding holes in the fencing and traveling to Sam Logan’s land.

      The soft summer breeze teased his skin. The house disappeared from view, and he relaxed. Urging the horse into a gallop, he felt the tension drain from his body. He’d forgotten how freeing it felt to be on top of a magnificent animal riding hell-for-leather to nowhere in particular. Just running.

      Recalling СКАЧАТЬ