Cowboy Dad

“We’ll do it.” Olivia and Gerrie exchanged nods.

Natalie’s glance went from one woman to the next. “You two?”

“We four. Lucia and Pat want to help, too.”

“Don’t look at me,” the dishwasher said from the sink when Natalie turned in his direction. “Kids are scared of me.”

With his piercings, scraggly goatee and full-sleeve tatts, Natalie believed him.

“But your days off,” she sputtered, still struggling to absorb everything Olivia had said. “You’d give them up?”

“Not all of them. We would rotate.” Olivia pulled a folded sheet of paper from her apron pocket and handed it to Natalie. “I’ve already talked to your mother and Briana. We need everyone to make this work.”

Natalie scanned the paper. On it was a seven-day grid with names penciled inside the squares, including her own. Olivia had gone though a lot of work to put it together.

“I don’t know what to say.” Natalie’s throat tightened.

“You say okay and thank you.”

“I’m really touched.” She tried to hand the paper back to Olivia. “But it’s too much to ask of you.”

“This is temporary,” Olivia assured Natalie, patting her arm. “Until you make other arrangements.”

“I’ll pay you,” Natalie insisted. “It’s only fair.”

“All right.” Olivia conceded with a shrug.

Natalie would have refused their plan unless they’d agreed to accept payment, and Olivia knew it.

“You sure, too?” Natalie looked inquiringly at Gerrie.

“Hey, I can use the extra money.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Gerrie giggled. “Why do you think I need the extra money?”

“Only until I hire a regular nanny,” Natalie reiterated over a catch in her throat.

“Of course.” Olivia beamed.

Natalie drew in a breath, composed herself, then said, “Okay and thank you.”

The three woman hugged. Natalie wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve such good friends. She’d have to find a way besides money to return their kindness.

For the next ten minutes, Natalie and Olivia went over the bookings and discussed food orders. Afterward, Natalie left through the dining area on her way next door to the main lodge. Her father and Aaron were gone, much to her relief. She wouldn’t have to find an excuse for avoiding Aaron.

Olivia and Gerrie had reminded her of what she already knew in her heart. The employees of Bear Creek Ranch weren’t just coworkers or even friends. They were family.

And Natalie would be a fool to jeopardize her place here by having anything other than a strictly professional relationship with Aaron.

THE CLINK, CLINK of a hammer against an iron anvil resounded through the crisp morning air. Seven horses stood tied to the hitching rail beside the barn entrance, their tails swishing and ears flicking. Six awaited their turn with the farrier. The seventh one belonged to Aaron.

Teresa and another ranch hand Aaron just met that morning helped the farrier. With forty head of riding stock to shoe, they had their work cut out for them.

Aaron’s lone female bunkmate had yet to warm to him, though he was pretty sure he sensed a slight crumbling of her hard exterior. The couch was about as comfortable as a sack of potatoes, and too short for his six-one frame. But, sad to say, he’d slept on worse. Not, however, for eight straight weeks. He rolled his shoulders to loosen some of the knots, thinking he might take Natalie up on her offer of a cot.

She’d avoided him at breakfast, and he was surprised at the depth of his disappointment. Until she abruptly escaped into the kitchen, he hadn’t known how much he was hoping she’d sit with him and her father. Did Jake talk to her? Warn her away as he had Aaron? He wouldn’t put it past the man.

All the more reason for Aaron to seek her out at dinner and ask her about the cot.

Talking softly to Dollar, Aaron hefted his saddle onto the horse’s back. When he pulled the girth tight, Dollar snaked his big head around and gave him the look.

“Sorry, boy.” He let the girth out. “Didn’t realize you’d put on a few pounds around the middle.”

The horse turned back to the fence, clearly insulted.

“Hey, you’re not the only one.” Aaron patted the front of his denim jacket. “Truth is, we’re both out of shape.”

He rode as often as he could. These days, “often” amounted to once, sometimes twice, a week. There’d been a time when he rode daily. When they weren’t rodeoing, Aaron and Dollar competed in team penning events—mostly for fun and only on a local level. That was how he’d met Hailey, when he congratulated her on beating the pants off him. He’d never been so happy to lose.

She was an experienced rider and careful. Not one to take unnecessary risks. Which was why her accident was so difficult to accept.

The mere click of a photographer’s camera was to blame. Her horse bolted at the insignificant sound just as they were exiting the arena after a successful run and an unprepared Hailey went flying. She bounced off the fence like a discarded rag doll and landed directly under the mare’s thrashing hooves. Two dozen people instantly poured from the sidelines but were too late to drag her to safety.

Aaron would never forget the horror on the photographer’s face.

Ironically, the mare had been Hailey’s favorite. They’d had hundreds of photos taken of them, appeared in dozens of publications. Why that particular day the mare spooked at something so familiar was a question Aaron had spent almost two years asking himself. He stopped only when he decided to come to Bear Creek Ranch and make Hailey’s death count for something.

“Be right back, boy.” Aaron patted Dollar’s neck and, leaving the girth undone, strolled to the side of the barn. He kept a toolbox in the storage compartment of his trailer.

“Need something?” Gary hollered to him from the barn aisle. He carried a fifty-pound saddle over one arm with the same ease most people carried a sack of groceries.

“Leather punch. Seems my horse has been cheating on his diet again.”

“There’s one in there if you want.” Gary hitched his chin in the direction of the tack room.

“Appreciate it.” When Aaron passed Gary, he noted the worn but superior-crafted saddle. Natalie’s father evidently didn’t spend all his days taking novice riders on trail rides through easy terrain.

“You do much endurance riding?” Aaron asked.

“Not like I used to.” Gary stopped, assessed Aaron with a critical eye. “Yourself?”

“Thought about it. Never tried, though.”

“I can take you out one day if you have a hankering.”

“I’d like that. See what my horse can do. He hasn’t been on a lot of trails.”