The Rancher's City Girl

Eloise looked back at her patient to find his eyes shut. She adjusted the fan so that it would reach Mr. Bessler, then slipped out the door. Eloise looked at her watch and headed toward the living room. They didn’t get phone calls often. She picked it up on the fourth ring.

“Hello, Mr. Bessler’s residence. This is Eloise, how may I help you?”

“Is this Robert Bessler’s house?” a female voice asked.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I thought he was a widower. Do I have the wrong number?”

“I’m his nurse.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” The woman laughed uncomfortably. “Is he there?”

“He’s resting right now. Could I take a message?”

“This is Melissa Wright. I’m his cousin’s daughter. We heard he wasn’t doing too well.”

“Who did you hear from?” she asked cautiously.

“The pastor at his church. My father used to live in Haggerston years ago. We were trying to find him to tell him about a family reunion, and the pastor told us about his situation.” The woman laughed nervously. “I wish I’d gotten to know him before—before—” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, maybe I could talk to him later.”

“I’ll let him know that you called.”

From the other room, Mr. Bessler’s voice broke the stillness. “Who is that, Red?”

“Would you hold just a moment?” Eloise said, then brought the phone with her into his bedroom and covered the mouthpiece with one hand.

“This is your cousin’s daughter. She wanted to say hello. Are you up for it?”

Mr. Bessler gestured for phone and she handed it over.

“Hello?” he said.

Eloise left the room to give her patient some privacy, but she could still hear his one-word responses. The quiet was truncated by grunts and “uh-huhs” coming from the other room. After a few minutes, he heaved a sigh.

“No— Melissa, was it? No. I’ve already written a will and decided where my estate will go.”

Eloise cringed and covered her eyes with one hand.

“I understand completely,” Mr. Bessler went on. “But I’m not interested in funding your education. Goodbye.”

The phone beeped as he hung up the handset. For a long moment, no sound emerged from the room, but after a couple of minutes, Mr. Bessler’s voice wavered as he called, “Red?”

Eloise pushed open the bedroom door. Mr. Bessler lay on his bed in the dim bedroom, the phone atop his chest. “Yes, sir?”

“That was a young woman named Melissa.”

“Yes, she mentioned that.” Eloise attempted to sound as impartial as possible.

“She was very thoughtful,” he went on quietly. “She heard I was dying and had no children, and she very kindly offered to let me pay her school bills.”

Eloise grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

“She’ll probably make an excellent lawyer.”

“I beg to differ,” Eloise muttered.

“Anyhow, I told her I wasn’t interested.” Mr. Bessler breathed deeply through his nose. “I don’t want to take any more calls from her, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem,” she replied. “I’m sorry about that, sir. Some people are just heartless.”

He waved it off. “It’s part of the package, I’m afraid.”

“What package?” Eloise asked.

“Someone has to get my money, and everyone thinks they deserve it.”

Eloise remained silent, pity welling up inside her.

“The ironic thing is,” the old man said softly, “There isn’t much left.” He laughed hoarsely.

“There might be charities willing to help pay my wages—”

“Never mind that.” Mr. Bessler shook his head. “I’ll pay you. But I won’t let some cousin’s daughter try to wring money out of my estate.”

Tears misted Eloise’s vision, and she blinked them back. Facing death was hard enough surrounded by family and friends. She couldn’t imagine having to think about her own mortality without anyone close to her. It seemed like the time to reach out to people, but Mr. Bessler refused.

“I’m all right, Red,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Don’t you waste those tears on me.” His eyes drooped again. “I’ve got Ruth up there watching over me, and the Lord hasn’t left me alone yet.”

“And you have me, Mr. Bessler,” she reminded him.

“Maybe it’s time you called me Robert,” he said. “It’s less formal, and you’re probably the best friend I’ve got right now, Red.”

She smiled. “Thanks. You also have a son who doesn’t want anything from your estate,” Eloise pointed out.

“You’re right.” Mr. Bessler sighed, his eyes shut. “He doesn’t need it.”

His breath grew even and deep, and Eloise turned to tiptoe out of the room when his voice stopped her. “Maybe I’ll go see my son’s ranch, after all.”

Hope rose in Eloise’s breast. “That would be nice, Robert.”

The old man opened one eye. “I didn’t say I’d be nice, just that I’d go.”

Eloise smothered a grin. She was happy that the old man would have a chance to see his son, and if she was utterly truthful, she was looking forward to seeing Cory, too. He’d been more than she’d expected, somehow—gentler, more complicated, more wounded. Even now she found herself wondering about the big rancher, how he was handling all of this. Mr. Bessler shifted, seeking a more comfortable position.

“I’ll let him know,” she said.

“Now leave me alone,” he grunted. “I want to sleep.”