Her Rugged Rancher. Stella Bagwell
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She’s an educated lady, a lawyer with enough smarts to figure out a loser like you.
Shutting his mind to the mocking voice trailing through his head, he watched a small shadow creeping along the edge of the underbrush growing near the left wall of the cabin.
“Jack, if that’s you, come out of there.”
His order was countered with a loud meow and then a yellow tomcat sauntered out of the shadows and over to Noah. As the cat rubbed against the side of his leg, Noah stroked a hand over his back.
“Ashamed to show your face, aren’t you? You’ve been gone three days. Hanging out somewhere with a girl cat, letting me believe a coyote had gotten you. I ought to disown you,” he scolded the animal.
In truth, Noah was happy to have his buddy back. A few years ago, he’d found the yellow kitten all alone, on the side of the highway near the turnoff to the ranch. And though Noah had never owned a small pet before, he’d rescued the kitten and brought him home. Later on, when Jack had grown old enough to be considered an adult, the cat had made it clear to Noah that he was going to be an independent rascal. Whenever he got the urge, Jack would take off, then come home days later, expecting Noah to fuss over him as though nothing had happened.
“But I won’t disown you,” Noah said to the cat. “And you damned well know it.”
Rising from the step, he opened the heavy wooden door leading into the cabin and allowed Jack to rush in ahead of him. Inside, Noah went over to a small set of pine cabinets and retrieved a bowl.
After filling it with canned food, he set it on the floor in a spot Jack considered his dining area. With the cat satisfied, he walked over and sank into a stuffed armchair. To the left of it, a small table held a lamp and a stack of books and magazines. Noah didn’t own a television. Something that Jett often nagged him about. But Noah had no desire to stare at a screen, watching things that would bore him silly. Instead, he’d rather use his small amount of time at home to read or listen to music.
Home. Most folks wouldn’t call his cabin much of a home. Basically it was a two-room structure, with the back lean-to serving as a bedroom, while the larger front area functioned as a living room and kitchen. The log structure had been erected many years before, when Jett’s maternal grandparents, the Whitfields, had owned the property. According to Jett, as the ranch had prospered, his grandfather, Melvin, had needed a line-shack and had built the cabin and its little native rock fireplace with his own hands. After a while, he’d upgraded the dirt floor to wooden planks and built on the extra room at the back. To Bella this cabin would be crude living, but to Noah, the simple space was all he needed. That and his privacy.
He was thumbing through a ranching magazine trying to get his mind on anything other than Bella, when his cell phone broke the silence. As he picked it up, he noted the caller was Jett.
“Did I wake you?” he asked Noah.
Noah rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting so old that I fall asleep in my chair before nine o’clock.”
Jett chuckled. “I thought you might be tired after branding today. That’s why I’m calling. Just checking to see how everything went.”
Jett wasn’t one of those bosses that called daily to line out the next day’s work. Ever since Noah had taken this job, Jett had been content to let him run things his way and at his own pace. That was just one of the reasons Noah wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
“No problems,” he told him. “One more small herd to go—the one over on the western slope and we’ll have them all branded. Can’t do it tomorrow, though.”
“Why not?”
“Used up all the vaccine we had. Me or one of the boys will have to go into town tomorrow for more.”
“After I sent Bella home, I ended up being swamped with work today, but I would’ve found a way to go by the feed store and picked up the vaccine for you,” Jett insisted.
“I thought about calling you. But we need a roll of barbed wire and a few more things anyway. Better to get it all at one time.”
Besides working on selected days at his law office in town, Jett also acted as the lawyer for the Silver Horn Ranch, a position he’d held for years. Since his wife Sassy was a member of the Calhoun family, who owned and operated the notable ranch, Noah figured Jett would keep the job from now on.
“Well, there’s no urgency about the branding. Whenever you and the boys can get to it will be soon enough. I don’t plan to sell any of the calf crop on the western slope, anyway. I’ve given them to Sassy.”
It wasn’t surprising to hear Jett had given the calves to his wife. The man was always giving or doing something for her. On the other hand, Sassy deserved her husband’s generosity. She’d given him three beautiful children, worked hard to make the ranch a success, and most of all she adored him. Jett was a lucky man and he knew it.
“I—uh, ran across your sister today,” Noah said as casually as he could. “She’d gone riding and her mare had thrown a shoe.”
“Yes. I spoke with her earlier over the phone. She was very grateful for your help. Thanks for lending her a hand, Noah. You know, she’s very independent. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you she’d take care of the mare’s shoe herself.”
Noah rose from the chair and walked over to the open door. If he looked to the southwest, he could see the lights from Bella’s house, twinkling faintly through the stand of pines. Now that he’d been inside her home, it was much too easy to picture her there.
“She didn’t put up a fuss,” he replied.
Had Bella told her brother that she’d invited him inside for pie and coffee? Noah wondered. The memory of his brief visit with her still had the power to redden his face. Looking back on it, Bella had probably thought he was a big lug without enough sense to paste two sentences together. Even now in the quiet of his cabin, he couldn’t remember half of what he’d said to her.
“Speaking of fussy, I wish you’d stop being so damn hard to please and try to find yourself a woman,” Jett said.
“That isn’t going to happen,” Noah muttered. “Not ever.”
“Never say never, Noah. You don’t know what the future holds for you.”
“My future damned sure won’t have a wife in it!”
His outburst was met with a moment of silence, then Jett said, “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re feeling like your old self tonight.”
Noah swiped a hand over his face. When he’d first responded to Jett’s ad for a ranch hand, he’d expected him to ply him with all sorts of questions. That was the nature of a lawyer, he figured. But the only facts Jett had seemed interested in was whether Noah had experience taking care of cattle and if he was wanted by the law. It wasn’t until time had passed and a friendship had developed between the two men that Noah had confided he’d left a bad situation behind him and it had involved a woman. Jett had seemed to understand it was a matter that Noah wanted to keep to himself and he’d never asked him to elaborate. Still, that didn’t stop his friend from urging him to find a wife.
A wife. The idea was laughable.
“Why wouldn’t I be feeling like my old self?” Noah asked grumpily.
Jett said, “Oh, I don’t know. One of these days you might soften up and be a nice guy for a change. Miracles do happen.”
Before Noah could think of a retort, Jett went on, “I got to go help Sassy. She’s trying to get the kids to bed. If you need me tomorrow, call me.”
“Yeah. Good night, Jett.”
Ending the conversation, Noah slipped the phone into the pocket of his shirt and stepped back outside. The night air had cooled and the clear sky was decorated with endless stars. A gentle breeze stirred the juniper growing at the corner of the cabin and somewhere in the canyon he could