A Rancher Of Convenience. Regina Scott
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glanced down at her. “And your eyes are much prettier, and you don’t weigh nearly as much.”
“Why such compliments, Mr. Snowden,” she teased. “You’ll quite turn my head.”
Was that a tinge of red working its way into his firm cheeks? “Only speaking the truth, ma’am,” he murmured. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should start out so I can be back by nightfall.”
She caught his arm. His muscles tensed under her hand, and she realized she was being too bold. Immediately she dropped her hold and stepped back.
“I’m willing to stay behind for the good of the baby,” she told him. “But you promised to teach me to run this ranch. How can I learn if you’re out on the range?”
He eyed her a moment, then blew out a breath. “You’re right. I’ll send Upkins and Jenks along and stay with you. If they spot any trouble, they can always ride back, and we can tackle it tomorrow.”
She couldn’t believe how buoyant she felt as she watched him send her other boys off. He returned to her side and walked her to the porch, insisting that she sit on one of the wicker chairs there and even handing her the padded cushion from another of the chairs to put behind her.
“You’re fussing,” she accused him.
Now she had no doubt his cheeks were reddening. As if to keep her from noticing it, he paced around the chairs and finally took one not too far from hers, setting his hat on the table between them. Even then, his knee bobbed up and down, as if he’d rather be out riding.
“Perhaps,” she said, hoping to put him at his ease, “we should agree on a few things. First, if you are going to be my teacher, I think it would be appropriate for you to call me Nancy. Shall I call you Henry?”
His knee froze. “No, ma’—Nancy. That’s my father’s name too, and I never cottoned to it. He had a way of saying it, all drawn out like it was three or four syllables, and I’d know I’d disappointed him again. Call me Hank.”
Hank. Though she’d known that was what Lucas called him, she hadn’t considered the name until now. It was strong, steady, not unlike the man sitting next to her. “Very well, Hank. I want you to know I’ll be a very attentive and eager learner.”
He shifted on the chair as if he wasn’t so sure about his own role as teacher. “What exactly did you want to know about ranching?”
What didn’t she want to know? She felt as if she’d lived in a cocoon of her husband’s making and hadn’t yet emerged as a butterfly. “Everything?” she suggested.
He took a deep breath. “That’s a tall order. Maybe we could start with what you know and work from there.”
Nancy waved toward the hills. “We have land. It supports cattle. And apparently rattlesnakes, mountain lions and coyotes. We sell those cattle and turn a profit.” She faced him fully. “What I want to know is how.”
He ran a hand back through his hair, spiking curls in its wake. “And I thought riding the line made for a long day.”
“I told you I knew nothing,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “All right, then. To start off with, cattle don’t just spring up like tumbleweeds. We generally bring in a bull or two around this time of year.”
Nancy frowned. “Don’t we have any bulls?”
“Not enough to service a herd this size.”
She made a face. “I don’t understand.”
He was turning red again, and his gaze refused to meet hers. “Maybe we should start with the other end of the story. This isn’t a conversation I’m prepared to have with a lady.”
She thought for a moment, going back over what he’d said, then brightened. “No need. I think I know what you’re talking about. Bulls plus cows equals babies.”
He sagged back against the chair as if he’d run a race. “Bulls plus cows equals calves. But yes, that’s what I mean. And calves are born in the spring, get branded and grow into steers we sell at a profit a year later come fall. Make sense?”
“Yes,” she said. “You don’t have to hesitate to talk about birthing with me. I’m not afraid to talk about babies, mine or anything else’s. I understand them. Cattle are what scare me.”
He chuckled. “Cattle are big babies, if you ask me. Won’t listen to what you tell them. Want their own way. Then they look at you all sweet like, and you know they have you right where they want you.”
“Well, if cattle are babies, I’ll be running this ranch in no time,” she told him, offering him a smile.
He stared at her mouth as if she’d done something amazing. Was a smile so important? Or was hers that special to him?
Even as her cheeks heated under his regard, he turned and gazed down the long drive toward the wrought iron gates that marked the edge of the Windy Diamond.
“Someone’s coming,” he said, standing. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Nancy asked as he stepped down from the porch and headed for the barn.
“To get my shooting iron.”
A flutter started in her stomach, and she pressed a hand against her waist to still it. Did he think it was outlaws? Some other kind of trouble?
It couldn’t be Sheriff Fuller again. She’d been grateful he had been considerate when he’d returned to question her further about Lucas. She only regretted she hadn’t been any help to the lawman. She truly hadn’t known a thing about her husband’s shady business dealings. It seemed to her she hadn’t even known her husband.
She was just glad to recognize the occupants of the wagon that rattled onto the flat before the house. Edmund McKay, a tall, serious-looking rancher who had a spread to the southwest of town, was at the reins, and her friend Lula May sat beside him. Lula May gave her an airy wave, then gathered her blue cotton skirts. Though the young widow was perfectly capable of climbing down, Mr. McKay came around and lifted her from the bench. His gaze seemed to linger on hers before he released her.
Now, there was a sight. Only a month or so ago Nancy and Molly Thorn had teased Lula May about refusing to let Edmund help her down. Now there was a tenderness between her friend and the rancher that tugged at Nancy’s bruised heart. It seemed she’d missed a romance in the last couple weeks she’d been staying close to the ranch. The thought made her smile, but the frown on Mr. McKay’s face as he walked toward her set her stomach to fluttering again.
She scolded herself for the reaction. Edmund McKay had never struck her as a harsh man. He might even be accounted handsome with his chiseled features, hair the color of the sandy soil, and dark coat emphasizing his muscular build. He walked with the confidence of a man at rest with his conscience. Lula May, who was tall for a woman, looked positively petite at his side, her strawberry blonde hair confined behind her head, blue eyes crinkling around the corners with her smile.
“Nancy,” she said, climbing the porch to enfold her in a hug. “I was hoping you might feel up to company today.” She cast a glance at Edmund as if to encourage him to speak. He yanked the brown Stetson from his head.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said with a nod that seemed respectful enough. “How are you faring?” The way he shifted on his feet told her she wasn’t the only one concerned about this meeting. She resolved to welcome him all the same.
“We’re faring well, thank you, Mr. McKay,” she told him. “Mr. Snowden sees to the ranch for me, along with Billy Jenks and Mr. Upkins. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
Edmund nodded. “They’re a good bunch. Sheriff Fuller said they were real helpful making sure there were no more stolen cattle on the range.”
All her good intentions vanished, and Nancy cringed despite herself.