The Rancher's City Girl

Eloise nodded. “I’ll help you with that, but right now you need to rest.”

Mr. Bessler let out a soft grunt as she helped him to his feet. He shuffled the few steps to the bed and sank into it with a deep sigh.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Good.” She moved his wheelchair to a convenient spot out of the way. “Robert, this trip is for you and your relationship with your son. I don’t want you to forget that.”

“That’s baloney.” A smile twitched at his thin lips.

“You need to tell me if there is anything I can do to help you. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Oh, Red.” Tenderness entered the old man’s voice. “Young people are so naive. But life is shorter than you’d think. Don’t waste time.”

Eloise stopped short, surprised at this sudden gentleness from her short-tempered patient.

“Do you think I’m wasting time?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said bluntly.

“What should I be doing differently?” she asked as she pulled the blankets over her patient.

“Living.”

“I suppose we all do that in our own ways,” she replied.

“No, we all stall and avoid getting close to people in our own ways,” he replied drowsily. “Take a few chances, Red. When you get to my age, you don’t want any regrets.”

The old man shut his eyes and exhaled a slow breath. Eloise stood silently, her patient’s medication sheet in her hands. Warm sunlight pooled on the floor next to the bed, and outside the window, a rabbit ventured onto the lawn, nose twitching. Was Eloise stalling? Was she avoiding?

The rabbit scampered away. With a sigh, she turned back toward the door.

Chapter Four (#ulink_2f0c3783-5a1b-5faf-b29b-f7665e4ef960)

Cory hung up his cell phone with a sigh. A ranch hand had cut himself, and he’d need some medical attention.

“What happened?” Zack asked from where he sat at the table, putting together the work schedule for the next month.

“Barbed wire.”

Zack winced. “At least we’ve got a medic now.”

Cory nodded. “Yeah, thankfully. Can you stay here with my father while we’re gone?”

“Sure.” Zack shrugged. “What do I need to do?”

“We’ll ask Eloise, but if he’s already in bed, I doubt there will be too much.”

Though Cory didn’t want to disturb Eloise while she was working with his dad, he couldn’t just leave a man to lose blood, either. So he headed down the hallway and knocked on his father’s bedroom door.

“Yes?” Eloise opened it.

“We’ve got an injury. Can you come?”

“Give me two minutes. I just have to make sure your father is comfortable. Can someone keep an eye on him?”

“Zack says he can stick around. He wants to know if there is anything he needs to do.”

“Just listen in case he asks for something.” She flashed him a smile.

“Okay.” He jutted his chin in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll be out there when you’re ready.”

Cory went back to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, his gaze overlooking the horse pasture. Zack hunched over the schedule, an eraser in one hand and a pencil in the other, deep in concentration.

This land—this soil—had seeped into Cory over the years. At first, it had been the summer weeks he spent with his grandfather while his mother worked in Billings in a hotel laundry room. She couldn’t afford child care to watch him during school summer vacation, so she sent him to be on the ranch with her parents. This was the place he’d learned about life.

He had also learned important lessons with his mother, but times were harder in Billings. They couldn’t waste money, and they carefully measured out the milk, never wasting a drop. He saw his mother exhausted from a long day at work, and he listened to those late-night conversations when she’d call her parents on the ranch and refuse to take any money.

“No, no, we’re fine. I’m doing some overtime. Thanks for inviting Cory to come this summer. I’m going to miss him, though.”

He’d learned thriftiness and self-reliance at home with his mother in their one-bedroom apartment, and on the ranch, he learned responsibility and hard work as he got up with the sun to start chores. He learned about delayed gratification when he raised a coop full of chicks to maturity before he started gathering eggs. He learned about the birds and the bees when he witnessed enough calves being born to spark the right questions.

His grandfather had been the male presence in his life, and those early-morning rides out to the herd when the sun eased over the horizon, or those evenings when they stood together in the mudroom, washing their hands with a big bar of soap before going in for supper, were moments that formed him.

His mother would visibly relax when she drove them up that winding drive, the worry lines in her face softening, and she’d heave a sigh of relief.

“You’ll have fun this summer,” she’d say. “And I’ll be back in two weeks to spend a couple of days with you. You’ll behave yourself, right? You do as you’re told and listen to Grandma and Grandpa.”

The lectures hadn’t been necessary, of course. Cory wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his time on the ranch. It was the one place on earth where he could drink all the milk he wanted and roam as far as his legs would take him. Looking out over the pasture, watching the horses graze always reminded him of those summer weeks when his grandfather shouldered the pressures, and Cory got to dream about owning his own horse one day.

Who knew I’d have the ranch?

He still felt a familiar surge of gratitude at that thought. This ranch meant more to him than anything else.

A rustling sound behind him pulled him out of his memories and he turned to see Eloise in the doorway of the kitchen. She hesitated, green eyes meeting his. She pulled her curls away from her face, and her lips parted ever so slightly, and he could feel all of his orderly thoughts slipping away. What was it about this woman that addled his brain like that? He cleared his throat.

“You ready to head out?” Cory asked. “It’s a pretty deep cut, apparently.”

“Sure. Let me grab my supplies—”

“I’ve got a fully stocked kit in the truck.” Cory pulled his thoughts away from dangerous territory and surveyed her attire. Her jeans were all right, but the delicate teal blouse didn’t look as if it would survive long out here. Dare he say anything? There was an injured ranch hand waiting.

“Then let’s go.” She turned to Zack. “Thanks for checking on Mr. Bessler for me. He’s almost sleeping now. His painkillers have taken effect.”

“No problem,” Zack said with a wave. “It’s good to have you here.”

She turned and followed Cory to the door, then out to the truck. He pulled open her door, then headed around to the driver’s side. When he hopped up into his seat and the truck rumbled to life, Eloise eyed him tentatively. “Your father wants to scatter his wife’s ashes one of these days soon.”