A Groom For Gwen. Jeanne Allan
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down from the truck turned intense brown eyes on her. “You the gal Bert left his place to?”
“Yes. I’m Gwen Ashton.”
The man cackled with laughter. “Bert leaving his place to a purdy little gal he barely knew shure set some people back on their heels. Specially that no-account nephew of Bert’s. Serves him right. Counting his chickens afore they was hatched.”
Gwen had had it with people speculating about Bert’s motives. “I wasn’t his mistress and he wasn’t my sugar daddy,” she snapped.
“Never said ya was. Bert was plenty tickled he found somebody who’d love the place the way he done. He thought about leaving it to Lawrence, but said Lawrence had the look a death on him.” The man spat on the ground. “Don’t know how Bert knew. Heard Lawrence’s up in Denver in the hospital with cancer eating away his guts. He’ll be ridin’ the range with Bert purdy soon.”
Leaning against the front of the pickup, his arms crossed over his chest, Jake gave Gwen a thoughtful look. She knew he’d taken the job on a temporary basis only. Crossing her fingers where Jake couldn’t see them, she said quickly, “Lawrence, Mr. Hingle, is being treated.” His daughter told Gwen the cancer had advanced beyond help. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Miracles happened.
“He won’t be back,” the old man said with finality before spitting again. “Heard ya need help, so I come over. Name’s Tom. Where do I bunk?”
Gwen opened her mouth and closed it again, struck dumb. The man was older than dirt, and if he stood one inch over five feet tall, she’d be amazed. Her eyes swung to Jake. He gazed blandly back. The old man wasn’t his problem.
“Uh, well, Tom, as you can see, I’ve already hired Mr. Stoner. While I appreciate your—”
“I hear tell Rod Heath done gone to Cheyenne.” The big lump in his cheek moved up and down with his words. “Not gonna hire him again when he comes crawling back, are ya?”
“No, that is...” She wanted to bite her tongue. She should have lied.
“Thought not. You look too salty for that.”
Gwen ignored the smothered choke of laughter from the direction of the pickup. She wondered how funny Jake would find it if she hired Tom as his assistant. Of course, she couldn’t hire a man of his age. Not for the kind of physical labor needed on a ranch. “I appreciate you taking the time and trouble to come way out here, but I’m not hiring another hand at present. Mr. Stoner will give you a ride back into town.” That didn’t sound too hospitable. “Would you care for a glass of iced tea before you leave?”
The man moved the lump to the other side of his jaw, giving her close study throughout the operation. “Ain’t you some kind a fancy numbers lady?”
So much for being a Certified Public Accountant. “I’m a CPA, yes.”
“Then ya otter be able to count. You had two ranch hands, now ya got one. You need anuther.”
“Uh, well, it might look that way, but, the thing is, it’s pretty slow around here right now. We don’t need to replace Rod for a while.”
“Slow. In August?” The man snorted. “She don’t know a damn thing about ranching, does she?” He directed the question to Jake who merely smiled.
Gwen gave the tail cowboy a look of entreaty. He could chime in anytime.
“Yeah, boss lady?”
She didn’t believe that artless look for one second. He was reminding her it was her ranch. Fine. She’d handled personnel matters before. She’d deal with this one. Firmly she said, “Thank you for applying for the job, Mr., uh, Tom. If we find we need help, we’ll certainly keep you in mind.”
The man gave her a disgusted look. “Yur jes like that young whippersnapper son of mine. Thinking I’m too old to do anything but set in a rocking chair. I aint dead yet.” He spit again before squinting up at Gwen. “Maybe I caint keep up with this young feller—” he nodded at Jake “—but you aint seen the day I caint outwork that no-account Rod you had. I’m of a mind to sue you for age discrimination.”
The old man had one foot in the grave, and he was threatening to sue her. Pure bravado. They both knew, even if he did sue her, he’d never win. He stared up at her with a proud, pugnacious look which almost hid the resignation in his eyes. He felt discarded before his time. Gwen sighed inwardly. Surely Jake could find something easy for the man to do. “All right,” she said, “I’ll hire you.” She couldn’t let him think she was hiring him out of pity. “I can’t afford to be sued, but I’m not a charity. I’m hiring you under the same conditions I hired Jake. A month’s trial period.”
Tom proudly adjusted a beat-up brown cowboy hat over his few strands of hair. “Ya won’t be sorry, Ma’am. Ya just done got yourself a top hand.” He hesitated, then a crafty expression narrowed his eyes. “Name’s Smith. Tom Smith.” The look on his face dared her to challenge the blatantly obvious lie.
Gwen only hoped he didn’t kill himself before the month was up. “Tom,” she called as he headed back to the pickup for his gear, “can I ask you one thing?”
“You can ask,” the old man said cautiously. “Mebbe I’ll answer and mebbe I won’t.”
“Just how old is your son?”
“Damn fool kid’s still wet behind the ears.” Tom spit at the truck’s front wheel. “Sixty-two last birthday. You let that be,” he snapped at Jake who’d reached into the back of the pickup. “I carry my own rig. Just point me.”
Jake pointed to the small stone house. “Bunk in any bedroom but mine.”
Gwen watched him disappear into the employees’ quarters, then turned on Jake. “I don’t want to hear one word from you about me hiring him. I don’t care if he does slow you down. I don’t care if you do have to invent work for him. I’m the boss around here and I say he stays.”
“All right.”
“What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously.
He ambled over to the base of the porch steps, and shoved his hat to the back of his head. “It means you’re the boss.”
“Yes, I am the boss. And don’t you forget it.”
“Ma’am, a man’s not likely to forget anything about you.” One easy step with those long legs of his and he stood on the porch in front of Gwen. He gently touched her cheek with a glove-clad finger. “Tom was right about you.”
“I know, I don’t know anything about ranching.” Or outlaws, she thought nonsensically.
He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “About you being a ‘purdy little gal.’ You stir a man’s insides.” He backed her up against the stone porch pillar and tipped up her chin, his gaze settling on her mouth.
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“No, Ma’am.” He smiled, barely showing white, even teeth.
“You’re my employee,” she said stiffly.
His smile widened. “If you mean your cowhand, yes I am, boss lady.”
“I don’t believe in mixing business and pleasure.”
He laughed, deep in the back of his throat. “You’re right about that, Ma’am. Kissing you will be pure pleasure.”
She’d never been kissed by an outlaw. She didn’t intend to let one kiss her now. “You’re not still planning to kiss me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She ought to fire him. Maybe she should kiss him first. Out of curiosity. Then she’d fire him. Except she needed him. Even with Tom, she couldn’t operate the ranch alone. So she couldn’t kiss him. Because she couldn’t