The Rancher and the Girl Next Door. Jeannie Watt

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СКАЧАТЬ to her pen, and then she, too, went straight for the water.

      And now for Numb Nuts.

      He had a feeling from the way the trailer was rocking, now that the stallion was alone and wondering where his mare had gone, that his nuts were actually not all that numb.

      Brett opened the divider and the horse rolled an eye at him, showing white. And then the animal screamed. Brett untied him, taking a firm hold on the rope close to the snap, and started to lead him to his pen. The stud danced and rolled his eyes again, but he respected the lead rope, and Brett got him shifted safely. As soon as the stallion had drank his fill, however, he started pacing the fence, back and forth, back forth, punctuating every turn with a fierce whinny.

      The driver smiled and headed for his truck, obviously glad to be on his way.

      Brett decided to let the horse settle in for a day or two before he attempted to tune him up. And as soon as he could, he was going to suggest to Phil that unless he wanted to make a complete spectacle of himself, perhaps he might want to find a calmer animal to show.

      When Brett pulled into his driveway, he saw Claire walking across the field toward his house. What now? She met him at his truck.

      “I need a favor.”

      “So do I,” Brett said wearily, pushing his hat back.

      “What do you need?”

      “I need someone to tactfully tell my boss that he’s in over his head.”

      Claire frowned. “Who’s your boss?”

      “See that ranch over there?”

      She nodded.

      “It’s one of many around here owned by the Ryker family. They have a land company and they lease ranches—including the one that I’m living on. Phil Ryker decided to become a cowboy a few years back, and took over that ranch as his personal hobby. I take care of it for him while he’s away.”

      “I see.”

      “And he likes to buy horses. And cows. And mules. He even bought some llamas, once.”

      “And he’s just bought something you don’t think he can handle?”

      Brett smiled wryly, wondering why he was unloading on Claire. She didn’t seem to mind, though. “He bought something I know he can’t handle, and now he has to be convinced of it before he hurts himself.”

      “Good luck,” she said with a smile. Damn, but she had a nice smile.

      “Yeah,” he said, sobering up. “What favor do you need? Snake removal? Cooler renovation?”

      “I’m joining the quilting club and Regan has a bag of stuff for me at her place. If you’re going to Wesley this week, could you pick it up?”

      “Yeah. I can do that.”

      “Thanks.” She smiled again. “Well, I have a ton of planning to do, so I’ll see you later.” She took a few backward steps before turning around. “Good luck with your boss.”

      “Thanks,” he muttered. He was probably going to need it.

      The next morning Brett made his weekly trip to Wesley, picking up groceries, animal feed, hardware, and vaccines for the new horses. He put off stopping at his brother’s place until last.

      It was close to four when he knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately, Kylie’s wide smile fading when she saw him. She forced the corners of her mouth back up again.

      “Hi. I thought you were someone else.”

      Obviously. Kylie had grown into a beautiful girl—almost a carbon copy of her mother—which added to Brett’s awkwardness whenever he had to face her alone. Kylie always picked up on the vibe and reflected it back, making their one-on-ones a tad uncomfortable.

      “Regan has a bag of quilt supplies for Claire that I’m supposed to pick up.”

      “Oh. Right. I was wondering what this was.” Kylie stepped back to retrieve a large plastic bag, which she handed to him. For a moment they stared at each other, neither certain of what to say. As usual.

      “Are you coming to watch me ride?” There was a regional 4-H horse show in Elko in two weeks, and Kylie had qualified in several events.

      “Yes, I am.” He made it a point to watch her ride or play basketball whenever he could. It hurt in some ways, but it was a price he was willing to pay.

      “Do you know about the barbecue afterward?”

      “What barbecue?”

      “Regan wanted to have a get-together since Claire is here, so that she can introduce her around.”

      Brett automatically shook his head. “No. I probably won’t be coming.”

      “All right.” Kylie seemed fine with it. Relieved, in fact. Brett felt the usual twinge of regret.

      A truck pulled into the drive behind his, and a kid who looked too young to be driving jumped out. Kylie’s face lit up and Brett felt a stirring of protectiveness. Surely Will wasn’t letting her date already? She was only fifteen.

      “Hi, Kylie. Hi…” The boy’s face contorted in confusion for a second and then he said, “I thought you were Mr. Bishop.”

      “He is,” Kylie said. “This is my uncle.”

      “Oh. Hi. I’m Shane.” The boy extended his hand, and Brett gave him points for manners.

      “Nice to meet you.” He glanced over at Kylie, encountering eyes exactly like his own. “I gotta get going. Nice meeting you, Shane. Bye, Kylie.”

      “See ya.”

      CLAIRE PERCHED ON the edge of her desk, an expectant look on her face. After a few seconds of staring silently, she asked, “Is there a problem with the topic?”

      The students shook their heads, then began writing in their journals.

      Claire waited the full fifteen minutes before asking, “Does anyone want to share?”

      As usual, the students sat staring straight ahead. Even the young ones. They were learning fast. Claire sighed and told the kids to get out their social-studies texts. When she’d informed Brett that she could take whatever these students could dish out, she’d meant challenges such as snakes—not things like a stupefying lack of response. And she was fairly certain it wasn’t too late for the younger kids, that they would respond if it weren’t for fear of being laughed at by the older students.

      What to do?

      Claire drummed her fingers on her desk, then stopped when a few kids looked up at her. She opened her grade book and pretended to study the columns of numbers. The obvious answer was to separate the younger students from the older ones, but she couldn’t do that in the space she had available.

      She thought back to her professors, with all СКАЧАТЬ