Rancher's Covert Christmas Page 11

  “Why do you think I’d be in harm’s way?”

  He sighed and firmed his mouth. Why wouldn’t she let it go? “Maybe you wouldn’t. But I’d rather not find out the hard way. The last act of sabotage was the damage to our zip line, and my brother or Kate could have been killed. They both nearly were. The vandal seems to be escalating from damage to property to acts that put our family and employees in danger. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I can understand that, but—”

  “No!” he said firmly, his aggravation sharpening his tone. On this point, he wouldn’t vacillate. “Erin, listen to me. You drop your nosing into the vandalism, or I will have to ask you to leave the ranch and ditch the article.”

  Her head jerked back as if he’d slapped her. She disengaged her hand from his and leaned back in her chair. She scowled at him with disappointment in her eyes. “Wow. Ultimatums? Really, Zane?”

  He kept his tone low and unwavering, but without animosity. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you won’t quit. The sabotage, our financial troubles, our rocky relationship with our ass-hat banker are all off the table. You either write about the opening of McCall Adventures in the spring, keeping the article focused on the positive aspects of the community and ranch and the opportunity we’ll offer for thrill seekers, or don’t write it at all.”

  She stared at him with a heartbreaking disappointment in her eyes that hurt more than it should have. He’d only known her a couple of days, and already her opinion of him mattered too much. He wanted to see her smile at him, wanted her moxie on his side, wanted an openness between them that allowed a deeper level of sharing and understanding.

  Erin was bright, witty, challenging. She fascinated him. Her beautiful face and womanly curves captivated him. Her sense of humor and joy for life gave him a hope he wanted to build on. He’d actually thought she might be the reason he began clawing his way out of the dark hole of stress and despair that had swallowed him in recent months.

  But his family came first. Now and always. And he had an itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that Erin’s inquiries into his family’s troubles, her challenging the sheriff deputy’s procedures, her unwillingness to stand down despite his repeated requests, could lead to greater problems for the Double M. Maybe even danger for his family. For her. He couldn’t let that happen, even if Erin hated him for his stance.

  She took her napkin from her lap and placed it neatly beside her half-eaten bowl of soup. “Well.” She inhaled through her nose and blew it out through pursed lips. She was calm but clearly disheartened. “Your position is duly noted.”

  He hated the chasm he felt between them now. She wasn’t railing against his rigid bluntness and the line he’d drawn, but the distance he sensed between them, the discouragement that shaded her expression stuck under his ribs like a knife.

  “I’m finished with my lunch and still have a few people I’d like to speak to in town.” She pushed her chair back. “About the Adventure Ranch and what it can mean to the tourism industry for the town. You needn’t wait for me. I’ll call the ranch when I’m ready to return. Maybe Brady or Piper could get me when they pick Connor up from school?”

  “Erin, I don’t—”

  She raised a hand. “I promise to be good. I don’t need a babysitter, and I don’t want to take up your time.”

  Sure, he’d put a few things on hold to come into town with her, but nothing he couldn’t handle later. He was used to being on the computer late into the night, after the hands-on part of his ranch work was finished for the day. But being dismissed by her stung. He enjoyed her company, and before this tiff, he’d been having a good time with her, something in short supply recently.

  Maybe he had gone too far with his ultimatum. Maybe—

  She rose from her chair, swiping the bill from the table. “My treat. You drove me into town, so I’ll buy lunch.”

  “Erin, no.” He tried to get the bill from her, but she snatched her hand away and held it out of his reach...unless he wanted to create a scene. “Erin,” he repeated, his shoulders slumping, “don’t leave. At least let me take you around town to interview—”

  “Really, it’s fine.” She gave him a polite smile that lacked her usual ebullience. “I’ll see you back at the ranch.”

  She breezed up to the bar where she handed Zoe the bill and some cash, saying, “Keep the change.”

  As Erin walked out of the diner, her motion set off the creepy Santa display, which emitted a droning “Ho, ho, ho!”

  But Santa wasn’t the only one laughing. He heard a snigger behind him and turned to find Gill watching him.

  Gill clapped slowly and shook his head. “Lost another one, huh, Zane? Tough break.”

  Zane choked down the bitterness that rose in his throat and stalked out to the parking lot, looking for something to punch.

  Chapter 8

  Erin tamped down the frustration and annoyance that scrabbled in her chest, strangling her breath. She’d been having a nice time with Zane, thoroughly enjoying his company until...

  She huffed and strode faster down the sidewalk. The first business she reached was Buckley’s Feed and Seed, and she ducked inside out of the brisk winter wind. Mr. Anderson, one of the men who’d lost his ranch, worked here now, according to Zane. Perhaps she could get a few words with the former rancher, feel out his attitude toward the Double M and, more specifically, the members of the McCall family.

  A man in a flannel shirt and vest glanced up as she approached the sales counter. “Hello there, young lady. How can I help you?”

  She introduced herself and gave her false narrative about the article again, the gnawing inside her greater every time she repeated the fib. She pulled out her notepad and pen. “May I ask you a few questions, um... I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

  “Walt Anderson,” he said, offering his hand to shake. “Ask away.”

  Bingo!

  “Pleasure to meet you.” She gripped his hand, relieved that she hadn’t had to ask for Mr. Anderson, which would have raised questions. “Well, I want to get a good picture of the community and what it is like to live here. Have you always worked here at the Feed and Seed?”

  He shook his head as he slid a stool closer to the counter and took a seat. “No, ma’am. I started here about twelve years ago.”

  She waited a beat, hoping he’d give her the opening she wanted without making her drag the information out of him. No luck. “What did you do before that?”

  “I had a cattle ranch.”

  Again he let the statement lie without further comment. She pretended to write this in her notes. “Why did you make the change?”

  He scratched his balding head and sighed. “Hit some bad times. A couple years of drought and disease got most of my herd. I couldn’t afford to stay in business any longer. I sold my ranch before the debt swallowed me like it did some other ranchers in the area.”

  She gave him a genuinely sympathetic frown. “I’m so sorry. I understand ranching is a difficult life.”

  “Difficult, yeah. But I loved it.” He flashed a rueful smile. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss it. But life, fate, God, call it what you will, had other plans for me.” He spread his hands. “So here I am.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, deciding how to get the information she needed. “Forgive me if it’s insensitive to ask, but...can you tell me more about your ranch and why you had to sell? For instance, what happened to your ranch when you sold it?”

  Twisting his lips in a thoughtful moue, he grunted and folded his arms over his chest. “Well, the land was divided up and sold at auction. Other ranchers with adjoining property bought some of it and a developer bought a lot or two. A lot of my equipment was so old as to be no good to anyone else, so some of it went to the scrap yard, some of it was sold for parts. The rest was included in the auction.”
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br />   “And your herd?”

  “What was left after that last devastating summer went to market in late fall, as usual. I had one stud bull that brought a good price.” He rubbed the side of his nose. “Saved one of the beasts to fill our freezer for the winter.”

  Her gut turned. She wasn’t ignorant about where her cheeseburger came from, but she didn’t like to think too much about that aspect of ranching. She made a few notes then met his gaze. “And how have you dealt with the loss of your ranch since then?”

  He gave her a small smile. “Like I said, I miss it. But what’s done is done. No point in crying over what you can’t change. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off and carry on. I still had a family to feed and bills to pay. I came to work here—” he motioned to the aisles of the Feed and Seed “—and counted myself lucky to have a job.”

  She nodded. “A good attitude goes a long way.”

  “Indeed it does, ma’am.”

  “And is it difficult seeing your neighbors come into the store? The ranchers who bought your land and equipment?”

  He appeared to ruminate on the question. “At first it was hard, but I knew it was just business. Could just as easily have been me buying their land.” He tipped his head and narrowed his eyes on her. “Don’t know if you’re aware or not, but the ranch you’re writing about, the Double M, is in a bit of a financial bind at the moment. That adventure tours business the kids started was supposed to help save them from bankruptcy.”

  She held her breath. “Oh?”

  “Afraid so. Hate it for Michael and Melissa. I really figured if anyone would survive the hard times, it would be them. Michael’s one of the best ranchers and businessmen I know.”

  “Ms. Palmer?”

  Hearing the voice behind her, Erin turned. Roy Summers stood behind her with a metal doohickey of some description in his hand. “Oh, hello, Roy. What brings you to town?”

  He held up the object in his hand. “The de-icer for the stock tank went out. Gettin’ a replacement.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised to see you here. This is hardly the most interesting place for a young lady like yourself.”

  “Hold on, Roy,” Mr. Anderson said, grinning wryly. “Are you calling me boring?”

  Roy shrugged and gave the store clerk a deadpan expression. “Just calling ’em like I see ’em.”

  Erin hid her grin and cleared her throat. “We were actually having an interesting conversation. I’m trying to get a feel for the town, the people and the history of the area for my article.” She cocked her head. “And I’m glad I ran into you. Do you think you can give me a ride back to the ranch?”

  “How’d you get into town?” Roy set the de-icer on the counter.

  “Zane drove me, but—” She didn’t get a chance to finish her statement before Zane entered the store and spotted her.

  “There you are.” He strode to the counter, his long legs eating up the distance quickly.

  She felt an instant shift in the atmosphere around her as he neared, like the zing of ozone in the air after a storm, and her breath hitched. Zane’s mere presence seared her consciousness so that all else around her faded away. He had a commanding presence, a confidence in the way he carried himself that attracted attention and respect.

  Or maybe that was just the woman in her responding to his raw masculinity. Either way, she needed a moment to regain her equilibrium before she met his gaze and straightened her spine.

  “I was just asking Roy for a ride back to the Double M. I thought maybe I’d use the time in his truck to interview him.”

  “Interview me?” Roy folded his arms over his chest and frowned at her. “Now you are getting into boring material. What could I possibly have to say that’d be any help to you?”

  “Aw, come on, Roy. I bet you have some good stories about life on the Double M.” She winked at him, then tipped her head, asking, “You’ve been with the family how long?”

  Roy shifted his feet and hesitated. “I started as a hand about the time the senior Mr. McCall died and his daddy—” he jerked his head toward Zane “—took over running things. I moved up to foreman about five years later, when the previous foreman retired.”

  “See, I’m learning things already,” she said with an encouraging grin for the reluctant foreman.

  Zane sighed and took her elbow. “Can I have a word with you?” He hitched his head toward the nearest aisle. “Alone?”

  “I—” He propelled her away from the counter with a hand at her back before she could state her objection.

  She could hear Mr. Anderson and Roy talking as Roy’s purchase was rung up and charged to the ranch account.

  When they were out of sight of the other men, Zane faced her with deep creases in his brow. “Look, I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean to sound so...”

  When he paused, looking for the right word, she offered, “Authoritarian? Dictatorial?”

  He clearly didn’t like her characterization, and with his mouth twisted in a disgruntled frown, he pushed both hands into his back pockets. The pose pulled the lapels of his coat back and the material of his long-sleeved T-shirt taut across his chest. She had to divert her eyes to keep her mind on track.

  “Erin—” he said at the same time she said, “Look, Zane—”

  He nodded to her. “You first.”

  She moistened her lips and drew a breath as she began calmly, “My intent is not to trash your family or your business in my article. I thought I’d made that clear. In fact, I want to help your family.” That much was true, which made it a little easier for her to continue her charade, hoping at least that much honesty would buy her some grace down the road. “I’m asking you to trust me. Why is that so hard for you?”

  His dark eyebrows winged up then, but she pressed on. “I want to know as much as I can about both the good and the bad surrounding the ranch, so I can do my best work and present an honest picture of the grit and determination your family has shown. I’m learning so much about the family loyalty and community respect that make the Double M special.” She reached for his shoulders and felt a tiny tremor when she gave his biceps a squeeze. “I understand your desire to protect your family, but give me a chance. Trust me to do my job. Please?”

  Except that her real job was far from what he expected, and she hated the necessary deception, even as she was begging for his trust.

  Zane looked away, his feet shifting as if the idea of offering his faith in her was giving him pause. “Erin, it’s just that—”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Palmer?” Roy said from the end of the aisle. “Do you still need a lift?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you.” She stepped back from Zane, but before she could walk away, his hand shot out to catch her wrist, stirring a twitter in her belly.

  “Erin, I’ll drive you back to the ranch.”

  “I know you can, but I want to go with Roy.”

  He seemed hurt by her assertion, so she added, “Roy’s been so busy in the pastures and working with the animals, I haven’t had a good chance to get to know him. I figure the drive to the ranch is a good time to bend his ear and get his perspective on things.” She glanced at the foreman. “Assuming that’s all right with you?”

  Roy shrugged one shoulder. “S’pose so.”

  “Great! Thank you, Roy.” She turned back to Zane. “So...see you back at the ranch.”

  Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but she thought Zane looked disappointed with her decision. In truth, she would have preferred to spend the time with Zane. But she had a job to do, and the sooner she got to the bottom of the vandalism incidents at the Double M the better. Instinct told her Roy knew something that would help her. He was such an integral part of the work that happened at the ranch, and he had a long history not only at the ranch but within the community.

  She followed him out to a large truck, one even bi
gger than Zane’s, with a higher step to the front seat. She goggled at the behemoth a moment before Roy opened the passenger-side door for her, and she hoisted herself up onto the bench seat. The cab of the ranch vehicle was dirtier than Zane’s, which had been surprisingly neat and odor-free. This truck had mud and, judging by the smell, manure on the floor, dust on the dash and clutter—including foam cups, old receipts and a rusty wrench—scattered across the bench seat. In addition to the manure smell, she detected the scent of stale coffee, oil and—she sniffed discreetly as Roy rounded the vehicle to climb into the driver’s seat—the subtle odor of alcohol. Roy had a lidded travel mug in the drink holder, and if she’d had more time, she’d have opened the top to take a whiff and confirm her suspicion that Roy’s coffee was Irish.

  The seat beneath her vibrated as Roy cranked the powerful engine and pulled out onto the main road through town. She took her notepad out, and the foreman shot a nervous glance toward her.

  Erin chuckled. “I promise I don’t bite, Roy.”

  His cheek lifted with a shy smile. “I know. I just...don’t guess I’ve ever been interviewed before for nothin’. I’m not sure what I’m s’posed to say.”

  “Just relax and answer the questions as best you can. This isn’t an interrogation,” she teased. “I simply want to talk about the ranch and the McCalls and the adventure tours business that the younger generation has started.”

  He seemed to relax a fraction, but he took a big swig of his drink before nodding to her. “All right.”

  “I understand your son, Brady, is a partner in McCall Adventures, too. Is that right?”

  Roy nodded. “He is.”

  She waited a moment for him to expand on his son’s partnership, but Roy said no more.

  Oooo-kay. This was going to be one of those interviews. Short answers. No exposition.

  “How do you feel about Brady going into business with the McCalls?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Fine.”

  “You’re not worried about McCall Adventures failing and him losing his money?”