Rocky Mountain Cowboy. Tina Radcliffe
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Julian took another swig from his water bottle.
“Try not to get between Mr. Gallagher and his chores. I can’t emphasize that enough. This is a working ranch. One that he manages pretty much solo.”
“We’re going to want to follow Gallagher around for at least a full day,” Rod said. “Then we can go back later to set up some specific shoots.”
“I figured you’d want to shadow him.”
“What time should we be out here?” Rod asked.
“Five a.m. is the time he gave me. Sunrise is at five thirty.”
“In the morning?” Julian squeaked.
“The last time I was up at five in the morning I was pulling all-nighters in college,” Abi murmured.
“Yeah, but think of the sunrise shots we can get. I imagine the sky is endless out here that time of day.”
“Yes. You’re right, Rod. Though tomorrow you get a break. I’ll be shadowing Mr. Gallagher until eight a.m. I’ll meet you in front of the barn at eight thirty, and we can do our tour of the ranch. Keep in mind that it’s another twenty minutes from town to the ranch. You’ll actually have to be up earlier to get here in time.”
“I’m exhausted just thinking about our schedule,” Julian said.
Rebecca chuckled. “Welcome to Paradise, folks.”
Thunder cracked, and they all jumped, turning in time to see the darkened sky light up with a brilliant flash.
“This cannot be a good sign,” Julian murmured.
“They have rain slickers at the tack shop in town,” Rebecca offered.
Abi’s eyes rounded and she looked past Rebecca, mesmerized. “Who’s that?”
Rebecca turned around. From the west, a lone figure rode toward them. A black Stetson on his head, he sat tall and formidable in the saddle.
“That would be Joe Gallagher?” Abi asked.
“My model?” Rod asked with a wide grin on his face.
“It is,” Rebecca said.
“And here I thought I was going to be photographing a grizzled old rancher.”
“Well done, OrthoBorne,” Abi said.
Two dogs appeared, not far behind, racing toward the corrals. As Joe got closer, he raised his left hand to tip the Stetson to the back of his head and narrowed his eyes to assess the strangers on his ranch.
“Uh-oh. Your model doesn’t look happy,” Abi murmured.
Joe reined in the horse a short distance away and dismounted easily from the saddle. Steely-eyed, he crossed his arms on his broad chest and faced them.
“We have a problem,” he said to Rebecca. The words were a slow accusation delivered with a tone that brooked no argument.
“A problem?” She swallowed.
“The paddock and north gate were left open.”
“Oops,” Julian murmured.
Rod and Abi turned to glare at Julian.
“So it was your ranch,” Abi said.
“We took a few cow pictures when we were lost,” Rod said.
“Bull.”
Rod jerked back, his eyes rounding. “Excuse me?”
“That’s a bull, not a cow,” Joe returned.
“Yes, sir,” Rod said with a nod.
Joe narrowed his gaze and looked slowly from Julian, to Rod and then Abi. “You know the first rule of the ranch?”
“Do no harm?” Julian asked.
“That’s doctors,” Rod said drily.
“Leave everything the way you find it.” Joe moved into the barn with his horse.
“Seriously?” Julian said. “I would have never guessed that in a million years.”
“Pay attention, Julian. I suspect Mr. Gallagher is trying to tell us something,” Rod muttered.
Rebecca raised a hand, indicating for the crew to stay put as she followed Joe into the barn. “Your bull is loose?”
“Was. Rowdy crossed the road and knocked down my neighbor’s garden fence and trampled his wife’s tomato plants. It would have been worse except he’s old, and all that exercise wore him out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Already done. Gil and Wishbone helped me herd him back, which put me an hour behind on my chores, not including the fence I still need to repair.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ll need to go into town for tomato plants. Oh, and I’ll need to add those fancy frost guards to my list. Good old Rowdy smashed those, as well.” He let out a weary breath.
“Joe, I’m sorry. I’ll have the crew go into town for the plants if that will help.”
“This is my ranch. I’ll handle it.” He met her gaze. “I can tell you what will help. Getting them in and out fast. The longer they’re on Gallagher Ranch, the greater the chances are I’m going to lose my temper.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. I’ll monitor them more closely and we’ll get this done quickly.”
“The clock starts ticking now, Becca.”
Rebecca offered a solemn nod. He was absolutely right, and she was completely certain that she was going to need some serious prayer time in order to pull off this assignment.
* * *
“I’ll be back in the morning.”
“What?” At the sound of Becca’s voice, Joe turned from brushing his horse and stared at her. She stood in the doorway of the barn, hesitation on her face.
“To shadow you.” She rubbed her right arm for a moment, then stopped, as if realizing what she was doing, and slipped her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
Joe put the curry comb on the shelf. He glanced at his watch, a decision already made in his mind. “Come on, then. I only have a few minutes.”
“A few minutes?”
“Lunch and a trip into town are next on my list.”
Becca followed him as he left the barn. Overhead the sky continued to spit, and dark clouds rumbled. He moved to the gravel drive.
“I don’t follow. A few minutes for what?”
“The truck.” Joe nodded toward the used-to-be-black, muddy farm truck. He unlocked and opened the passenger door for her before getting in on his side.
“Yes. But where are we going?”
He didn’t answer but continued down a well-worn dirt road to the south, right behind the barn. Less than two minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small cottage with a simple rail porch. Large weathered terra-cotta pots had been placed along the brick walkway that led to the porch steps. They were ready for planting.
“What’s this?” Becca asked.
Joe played with the leather cover on the steering wheel, avoiding her eyes. “It’ll be easier to monitor what’s going on if you stay at the ranch.”
“What?” She looked from the house and back to him.
He gave a nod of affirmation.
“Oh, no, I could never impose.” The words came quickly as she shook her head.
He focused straight ahead at the mud-spattered windshield, now blurred with drops of