Marrying The Rancher. Roz Fox Denny
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how little time she’d had as a kid to help her dad with the ranch. But she’d loved it. After all, it had been her home.
“We don’t want that government fella here,” shouted someone Tandy couldn’t see. That sufficed to jar her out of her memories. “And we don’t need you enabling him, missy. You understand?”
“Mama!” Scotty tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “I’m scared. Why are those men yelling at you? I wish we hadn’t moved here.”
“Shh. Don’t be scared.” She brushed the boy’s sandy-colored hair with a reassuring hand before turning her attention to her first accoster. “Mr. Hunt hasn’t shown up yet. How do you know he inquired if his old rental was available?”
“Not that I have to tell you, but Hunt arranged to have his mail delivered out to Spiritridge along with yours starting tomorrow. Roy Wilkerson’s wife works at the post office. She took his call and passed on the bad news. You need to send him packing.”
“I believe that’s my decision.” Tandy stood up, squeezing herself and Scotty past the man blocking the aisle with his bulk. She paused briefly to dismiss him with a scowl, along with the others in the room who’d turned in their chairs to stare, apparently all in solidarity with their spokesman.
Lifting her chin, she said loudly, “When my dad was sick and dying of prostate cancer, Wyatt Hunt made time to drive him to the hospital in Safford for chemo. Dad said Hunt alone helped Manny Vasquez with chores and rounding up and selling his herd. If for no other reason, that would convince me to rent a casita to the wildlife biologist again.” In a last show of defiance she squared her shoulders, took Scotty by the hand and marched them to an exit door she stiff-armed open.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Hicks called.
“Stick it where the sun don’t shine!”
Whatever else he may have shouted back got cut off by the slam of the heavy door behind Tandy.
She half carried her gangly son to the parking lot, where she unlocked and wrenched open the back door to her SUV. She lifted him into his booster seat, helped him buckle up and hugged him when he started to cry. “Shh. I won’t let them hurt us.”
“I don’t like that bad man with the big shiny belt buckle. He hollered at you. I wanna go back to Honolulu and live with my cousins.”
Tandy’s heart sank. “Oh, Scotty, the ranch is our home now.” She gently shut his door and rounded the hood to slide behind the wheel. She glanced back at him before jamming the key in the ignition of the aging Wagoneer that had belonged to her dad.
“What’s a wolf man?” Scotty asked, wiping his sniffling nose on his sleeve. “Is he like a werewolf?”
“Heavens, no. Werewolves are folklore. They aren’t real.” Tandy wrenched too hard on the key and the Jeep roared to life then sputtered and died. “Where did you hear about werewolves anyway?”
“From Mark. He’s got a cool movie.”
“Auntie Lucinda let you kids watch that kind of thing?”
“Uh-huh. And vampires, too. And zombies.”
“Sheesh. Well, Mr. Hunt is a regular man. He’ll be renting the casita next to Manny’s for a month starting tomorrow, and he’s one member of a team of wildlife biologists who brought Mexican gray wolves back into this area while your grandpa was alive.”
“Cool.” Scotty swept his hand across his eyes, drying his tears.
“As I understand it, Mr. Hunt needs to track those wolves, count their pups then vaccinate and tag them for a wildlife project.”
“But that man shouldn’t have been mean to you. I hope the wolf man’s nicer. Is he?”
“Please call him Mr. Hunt. Grandpa Marsh liked him a lot and spoke highly of him whenever we talked. Manny says good things about Mr. Hunt, too.”
“If he’s not nice I’ll have Mr. Bones bite him,” Scotty said, brightening considerably the minute he mentioned the Redbone Coonhound. She’d gotten him from the local animal shelter in hopes of helping ease Scotty’s transition to life on a ranch.
“We don’t want Mr. Bones biting anyone.” Tandy loosened her grip on the key and this time started the vehicle without incident. She couldn’t help smiling to herself at her son’s protective instincts. However, her smile soon faded. At thirty-one, she was plagued by plenty of mixed feelings over her abrupt but necessary departure from the military, where she’d enjoyed her job and had earned a steady paycheck.
Scotty had no clue how their lives had changed when his dad, also an army sergeant, had phoned to say he’d fallen in love with another woman. Dan was stationed in the Philippines while she’d served in Afghanistan. Hearing long-distance that he wanted a divorce had stung. But when he had angrily insisted he’d never wanted kids, leaving the army for the ranch she’d inherited in Arizona had seemed the only choice for her and Scotty.
Cutting ties in Hawaii had been necessary because Dan’s sister, Lucinda, had cared for Scotty while both parents were deployed. She’d said to keep the peace in her family, she had to side with her brother. Compared to all that, having a group of old ranchers attempting to bully her felt minor.
Checking her son in the rearview mirror, it hurt seeing his tearstained face. Back when she’d first learned she was pregnant, not long after hers and Dan’s whirlwind romance, he had mentioned not wanting kids. She should’ve divorced him then. And would have if he hadn’t sweet-talked her into believing he’d spoken in the heat of the moment. Only during the divorce had she learned he’d been up for a promotion at the time. So, the jackass’s change of heart had been because his CO wouldn’t have promoted him if he’d thought Dan would dump a pregnant wife.
She rolled down her window to let a breeze cool her anger. She should’ve said more to those ranchers. Like she ought to have seen through Dan. Oh, but why replow old ground? It was probably a godsend their jobs had kept them apart. Now she was well rid of him.
Still, she felt bad for Scotty. He missed his aunt and cousins. He wasn’t as happy with their move to the ranch as Tandy had hoped. She wished she had more hours each day to spend being his mom. But boning up on raising cattle and building a herd demanded a lot of time.
And they could use the income from renting a casita to Wyatt Hunt. While it’d been a blessing to inherit Spiritridge, most of the funds in her father’s bank account went to clearing his medical bills. She’d tapped her savings for the move and to buy cattle. And her dad’s elderly ranch hand, who she was happy had agreed to work for her, had been very frank about how long it’d take her to turn a profit with a fledgling herd. Especially since she hadn’t yet purchased a bull to turn out with her heifers.
Maybe she should’ve sold the ranch. At the time she just wanted to escape rejection and go where she’d been blessed to have had an idyllic childhood. That carefree life was what she wanted for Scotty. And by damn, she wouldn’t let angry, futzy old ranchers like Preston Hicks and his minions wreck that.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Tandy looked out her kitchen window and saw thick fog rolling over the basin. The white mist completely shrouded the usually dark Santa Teresa and craggy Galiuro Mountains that ringed the high desert where she ran her cattle.
She let the kitchen curtain drop and filled her coffee mug, further worrying they might get snow today. She’d turned her calendar to February, but having grown up here she knew it could snow as late as April.
“Mama, do we hafta go feed cows? I’m cold,” Scotty said, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he came into the kitchen.
Mr. Bones padded after him; his dog tags clinked merrily as he trotted around the boy and went straight to his dish of kibble, which Tandy had already set out.
“We do, Scotty,” she said as he took his seat at the kitchen table. “Raising cattle is pretty much an all-day, every day job.