Rocky Mountain Cowboy
“It’s taken me a while to actually commit to the whole prosthesis thing. After the accident and a couple of surgeries and rehab and all, I’d already been going back and forth to Denver so many times for preprosthetic therapy, and interim prosthetic therapy, that my head was spinning. I admit I didn’t adhere to the usual patient guidelines.”
“You aren’t exactly the usual patient,” she said.
“Bingo.” He took a deep breath. “Dan ran the ranch and my mother helped. I needed to take that load from them as soon as possible.”
“Is your mother still living in the main house?”
“Yeah. She and my niece just left for California. They’ve gone to visit my sisters, then meet up with Dan and his wife.”
“Dan’s married?”
“Yeah. Sort of a newlywed, too. He postponed his honeymoon for me.”
“That’s a great brother.” She paused, thinking. “Family is everything, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me through the day.”
“And faith,” she said softly, her eyes averted.
“Truthfully, I’m not sure what faith is anymore.” Joe cleared his throat. “No disrespect. I know you’ve been through a lot, and if your faith is what helped you, then good for you.”
“Good for me?” She offered a scoffing laugh. When she met his gaze, her eyes were hard and unflinching. “But we’re not here to talk about me, are we?”
He nodded. “Understood.”
“I need you to fill out this paperwork.”
Joe groaned. “More paperwork? OrthoBorne is big on it, aren’t they?” He glanced at the clock. “Could we save that for another session? I’m getting behind on my day.”
“I promise this is the last of it.”
He looked her in the eye. “You know what’s been the most difficult part of this transition?”
“What’s that?”
“Learning to write with my left hand. I’ll do anything to get out of paper shuffling.”
Becca paused. “We are in the field. I’m willing to compromise. We can skip that and go straight to shadowing. However, don’t be surprised if I come up with some unique teaching sessions while I’m shadowing you.”
“Deal.” He looked at her. “What do you mean by shadowing?”
“That means that I show up tomorrow and follow you around for a couple of days, asking you the questions. I basically need to document the tasks that make up the majority of your workday so I can create a plan of care for your specific occupational therapy.”
“I get up at four thirty, and I’m ready to start the day at five.
“Seriously?”
“Too early for you?”
“No. I meant you’re okay with me following you around from dawn to dusk for a few days?”
“I’ll do anything to avoid wasting my time—” he glanced with distaste at the paperwork “—checking little boxes and writing answers to inane questions. But five seems a little early for someone who isn’t punching a clock.”
“I understand my job, thank you. This is all about getting to know your world. So if you start your day at five, so do I, at least to start with.”
“Fair enough. I’ll meet you at the barn.” He glanced at her outfit. “You do have boots, right?”
“Yes. Several pairs, in fact.”
“Ranch boots. We’re not talking city girl, fancy boots.”
“Yes, ranch boots. You seem to forget that I worked on a ranch with my father practically my whole life.”
“I didn’t forget.” He paused. “But people change.”
“I’m still the same ranch girl I was twelve years ago.”
“I guess we’ll see,” Joe murmured.
“I guess we will,” Becca answered without missing a beat. She closed the cover on her tablet.
“What time does your crew arrive?”
“Nine thirty.”
“They’re late,” he observed with a glance at the big stainless-steel clock on the wall.
“I don’t want to keep you from your chores.” She began to pack up her briefcase. “I’ll wait outside for them.”
“You’re welcome to wait in the house.”
“Oh, no. I’ll wait outside.”
“Your call.” He reached for his keys, with his left hand, and fumbled. The keys clattered to the oak floor.
An awkward silence ensued as they both stared at the ground between them.
“I got ’em.” Joe scooped up the keys with his other hand and shoved them in his pocket.
“Do you mind if I give you a little impromptu lesson?” Becca asked.
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“You’re using the myoelectric hand statically.”
“Pardon me?”
“Static. Like a placeholder. I’ve observed your hand mostly in the relaxed position. You have quite a few positions available. Utilize them. The more you do, the more it will be automatic. Like the lateral pinch. You could have picked up the keys that way.” She demonstrated, putting her own keys on the table. “See how much more accurate?”
He nodded. “I’ll, ah, give it a try.”
“I hope you will. Why not maximize the technology? After all, it’s yours, and the photographer will want to see you taking advantage of their product.”
Becca was right. He might not be paying for the prosthesis in cash, but he was paying for it by agreeing to OrthoBorne’s offer. And he had been pretty much ignoring the technology, thinking maybe if he did, maybe he could ignore the fact that he was an amputee.
All he’d really wanted was for life to go back to the way it was before the accident. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe his way wasn’t working. Maybe the Lord had other plans despite the fact that he’d been ignoring Him, as well.
But was he ready for what was in store?
Chapter Three
Rebecca leaned against her Honda. She checked her watch and then focused her gaze on the main road. Late was an understatement. Joe had been gone two hours. Her stomach growled, and she wondered what the day’s special was at Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery in downtown Paradise.
Things with Joe had gone better than she expected. He wasn’t nearly as surly this morning as he’d been on Saturday at their unexpected reunion. She pushed away the worrisome thoughts that hovered nearby. This was going to work out. It had to.
That was, if the team would show up. She pulled her cell from her pocket to call the OrthoBorne offices in Denver. When she looked up, a big white pickup truck, with rooftop bar lights and the logo of the Paradise Sheriff’s Department, appeared on the road to the ranch, moving to the arched entrance. Behind it was a black SUV, kicking up a cloud of dust on the gravel road.
A police escort to the ranch?
She hurried to the drive and met the sheriff’s vehicle as it pulled up.
The uniformed officer unfolded his tall form and stepped out and placed a tan Stetson on his head. “I’m Sam Lawson.” He reached out to grasp her hand in a strong handshake. “You must be Rebecca Simpson.” His eyes were warm with welcome.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Joe mentioned you.” He nodded toward the car pulling in behind his truck. “These folks say they’re from OrthoBorne Technology in Denver. Sound right to you?”
“Yes. They’re Joe’s media team.”
“I found them driving through town. After the third pass through, I decided to take pity on them. According to the driver, they were here an hour ago, at another gate, but couldn’t find the road.”
“Thanks for bringing them here, Sheriff.”
“Better not thank me. This crew is greener than the grass, and I’m feeling guilty for delivering them to the ranch. In fact, maybe you could not mention to Joe that I brought them.”
She laughed.
“Oh, sure, you’re laughing now, but you won’t be when you figure out that I’m right.” He waved as he left.
A tall man in his midforties got out of the SUV. He shook his head and released a breath. “Gallagher Ranch, I hope.”
“It is, and I’m Rebecca Simpson.”
“Our liaison, right?”
“Yes. I’m also doing the certification.”
“Great. I’m Rod, photographer and videographer.” He stepped forward to offer a grin of relief, along with a brisk handshake.
She took his hand while returning the smile.
“Looks like we’re all in the family. OrthoBorne family, that is. Sorry we’re so late. The GPS on the rental went wacky once we hit the outskirts of town. We thought we were here once, but there was no road beyond the gate. For all I know, we were on another ranch somewhere around here.”
“No worries,” Rebecca said. “The good news is after the first time, you won’t forget your way to the ranch. It’s pretty easy. There’s only one paved road in and out of Paradise. Take it until you come to the arched entrance.” She pointed to the wrought-iron archway with the large entwined letters G and R.
“Easy. Yeah, that’s what I said until the third or fourth time we passed Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, and I realized I was driving in circles.” He turned to the vehicle, giving a wave for the other occupants to join him. “I brought Julian, our intern, and Abigail, one of our staff copywriters.”
“Mr. Gallagher didn’t mention three of you.”
“Julian was a last-minute addition,” Rod said. “He’ll assist with shoots.”
The front passenger door of the vehicle swung open, and a tall, thin, young man with long shaggy hair, a minuscule beard and wire-rim glasses rolled out. Earphones were propped on his head. When he glanced around, enthusiasm brightened his eyes. “Wow. This is great. I’ve never been west of the mountains.”
The only female of the group came around the truck to assess the situation. With one hand, she shoved back her shoulder-length cascade of strawberry-blond hair and with the other she pushed an oversized black leather tote over her shoulder.
“I knew we were in Paradise the minute I laid eyes on the good sheriff.” The woman smiled and stepped forward, offering a handshake in greeting. Her nails were short and unpolished, no-nonsense like the woman herself, who was dressed in tan khakis and a taupe sweater. “Abigail Warren. Call me Abi.”
“Rebecca Simpson.”
“Yes,” Abi said quietly. “I’ve read about you.”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” Rebecca murmured in response.
“Never. I’m a writer. I recognize fiction when I see it.”
When Abi winked, Rebecca knew she’d found an ally.
Overhead the sky rumbled. “Uh-oh.” Julian tugged the earphones from his head to listen closely. “Thunder? That can’t be good.”
“Let’s move over to the horse barn. It’s the closest shelter.” Rebecca pointed to the large red building. “The log cabin to your left is Mr. Gallagher’s, and that two-story colonial on your right is the main house.”
When the sky thundered again, the crew picked up their pace, following Rebecca. Along the way, their curious gazes took in the details of the Gallagher ranch, the barn, the fenced-in corral and the utility garage.
“Is that a windmill?” Abi asked, pointing to the teetering, metal structure standing out in the distance.
“It is.”
“What do they use them for?” she asked.
“They used to be utilized to bring water from the aquifers to the cattle. Most ranches use pump irrigation now.”
“When will we meet our client?” Rod asked.
“That depends on when he comes back from the pasture.”
“Horses,” Julian said when Rebecca pulled open one of the large barn doors. Wonderment laced his voice. He turned around to observe the stalls.
“That’s probably why she called it a horse barn,” Abi noted.
“This is Julian’s first big on-location assignment,” Rod said. “His life is usually spent working with computer software in the office. Generally his idea of nature is the Denver Zoo.”
Julian shrugged. “I’d deny it, except it’s absolutely true.”
“Great, then you’ll appreciate that we’re going to tour the ranch first thing tomorrow.”
“It’s starting to rain.” Julian observed the fat drops beginning to touch the ground.
“Rain doesn’t stop life on the ranch,” Rebecca said.
She scrutinized their clothing, from Abi’s open-toe sandals to Julian’s flip-flops and realized that it was actually a very good thing that Joe wasn’t here.
“Let’s talk about your schedule, and then I’ll let you get back to town to check in at the Paradise Bed and Breakfast and do some shopping.”
“Shopping?” Abi perked up.
“Yes.” Rebecca smiled. “First, I’d like to take this opportunity to make a few safety recommendations.” She stared pointedly at Julian. “Leave your earphones and earbuds in your suitcase. While you are working on the ranch, it’s important to listen and be in tune with your surroundings. You’ll want to hear the nuances of the land, including the weather. There are potential dangers, as well.”
“Dangers?” Julian asked.
“Dangerous wildlife, or even a ranch animal in distress.”
Rod nodded as the others focused on her words.
“You need boots. Cowboy boots, hiking boots or sturdy rubber boots with safety toes. Whatever you prefer. They’ll protect your feet and ankles from things like horse hooves, cow patties, insects, or even snakebites. Besides boots, you’ll want to dress in layers. It’s cold in the morning, warm in the afternoon.”
“I’d really like a cowboy hat,” Abi said.
Rebecca chuckled. “You do need some sort of hat. A cowboy hat is perfect. Gloves, sunscreen. All a necessity. Our altitude is higher than Denver’s. You can get burned faster here than in the city.”
“Anything else?” Rod asked.
“Tomorrow we’ll start by driving around the ranch, so bring your gear and water bottles. Keep in mind that there are no restrooms out in the pasture.”
“Any place to charge a cell phone?” Julian asked as he held his phone aloft in various positions, searching for reception.
Rebecca blinked. “I imagine we’ll be using a ranch truck, or utility vehicle, and usually ranch vehicles are of the ancient variety. It probably doesn’t have an adapter.” She paused. “I can’t even guarantee one bar out here. Most days in the warm months, yes. But you never know. It all depends on Mother Nature and where you happen to be standing.”
“You’re on the wild prairie,” Rod said with a chuckle.
“Your priority needs to be hydration. We’re at nearly nine thousand feet above sea level, which beats the 5,280 of the Mile-High City. If you aren’t sufficiently hydrated, you’ll get headaches, feel faint and possibly pass out. You’re Coloradans. You know the drill.”
Julian took another swig from his water bottle.
“Try not to get between Mr. Gallagher and his chores. I can’t emphasize that enough. This is a working ranch. One that he manages pretty much solo.”
“We’re going to want to follow Gallagher around for at least a full day,” Rod said. “Then we can go back later to set up some specific shoots.”
“I figured you’d want to shadow him.”
“What time should we be out here?” Rod asked.
“Five a.m. is the time he gave me. Sunrise is at five thirty.”
“In the morning?” Julian squeaked.
“The last time I was up at five in the morning I was pulling all-nighters in college,” Abi murmured.
“Yeah, but think of the sunrise shots we can get. I imagine the sky is endless out here that time of day.”
“Yes. You’re right, Rod. Though tomorrow you get a break. I’ll be shadowing Mr. Gallagher until eight a.m. I’ll meet you in front of the barn at eight thirty, and we can do our tour of the ranch. Keep in mind that it’s another twenty minutes from town to the ranch. You’ll actually have to be up earlier to get here in time.”
“I’m exhausted just thinking about our schedule,” Julian said.
Rebecca chuckled. “Welcome to Paradise, folks.”
Thunder cracked, and they all jumped, turning in time to see the darkened sky light up with a brilliant flash.
“This cannot be a good sign,” Julian murmured.
“They have rain slickers at the tack shop in town,” Rebecca offered.
Abi’s eyes rounded and she looked past Rebecca, mesmerized. “Who’s that?”
Rebecca turned around. From the west, a lone figure rode toward them. A black Stetson on his head, he sat tall and formidable in the saddle.
“That would be Joe Gallagher?” Abi asked.
“My model?” Rod asked with a wide grin on his face.
“It is,” Rebecca said.
“And here I thought I was going to be photographing a grizzled old rancher.”
“Well done, OrthoBorne,” Abi said.
Two dogs appeared, not far behind, racing toward the corrals. As Joe got closer, he raised his left hand to tip the Stetson to the back of his head and narrowed his eyes to assess the strangers on his ranch.
“Uh-oh. Your model doesn’t look happy,” Abi murmured.
Joe reined in the horse a short distance away and dismounted easily from the saddle. Steely-eyed, he crossed his arms on his broad chest and faced them.
“We have a problem,” he said to Rebecca. The words were a slow accusation delivered with a tone that brooked no argument.
“A problem?” She swallowed.
“The paddock and north gate were left open.”
“Oops,” Julian murmured.
Rod and Abi turned to glare at Julian.
“So it was your ranch,” Abi said.
“We took a few cow pictures when we were lost,” Rod said.
“Bull.”
Rod jerked back, his eyes rounding. “Excuse me?”
“That’s a bull, not a cow,” Joe returned.
“Yes, sir,” Rod said with a nod.
Joe narrowed his gaze and looked slowly from Julian, to Rod and then Abi. “You know the first rule of the ranch?”
“Do no harm?” Julian asked.
“That’s doctors,” Rod said drily.
“Leave everything the way you find it.” Joe moved into the barn with his horse.
“Seriously?” Julian said. “I would have never guessed that in a million years.”
“Pay attention, Julian. I suspect Mr. Gallagher is trying to tell us something,” Rod muttered.
Rebecca raised a hand, indicating for the crew to stay put as she followed Joe into the barn. “Your bull is loose?”
“Was. Rowdy crossed the road and knocked down my neighbor’s garden fence and trampled his wife’s tomato plants. It would have been worse except he’s old, and all that exercise wore him out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Already done. Gil and Wishbone helped me herd him back, which put me an hour behind on my chores, not including the fence I still need to repair.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ll need to go into town for tomato plants. Oh, and I’ll need to add those fancy frost guards to my list. Good old Rowdy smashed those, as well.” He let out a weary breath.
“Joe, I’m sorry. I’ll have the crew go into town for the plants if that will help.”
“This is my ranch. I’ll handle it.” He met her gaze. “I can tell you what will help. Getting them in and out fast. The longer they’re on Gallagher Ranch, the greater the chances are I’m going to lose my temper.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. I’ll monitor them more closely and we’ll get this done quickly.”
“The clock starts ticking now, Becca.”
Rebecca offered a solemn nod. He was absolutely right, and she was completely certain that she was going to need some serious prayer time in order to pull off this assignment.
* * *
“I’ll be back in the morning.”
“What?” At the sound of Becca’s voice, Joe turned from brushing his horse and stared at her. She stood in the doorway of the barn, hesitation on her face.
“To shadow you.” She rubbed her right arm for a moment, then stopped, as if realizing what she was doing, and slipped her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
Joe put the curry comb on the shelf. He glanced at his watch, a decision already made in his mind. “Come on, then. I only have a few minutes.”
“A few minutes?”
“Lunch and a trip into town are next on my list.”
Becca followed him as he left the barn. Overhead the sky continued to spit, and dark clouds rumbled. He moved to the gravel drive.
“I don’t follow. A few minutes for what?”
“The truck.” Joe nodded toward the used-to-be-black, muddy farm truck. He unlocked and opened the passenger door for her before getting in on his side.
“Yes. But where are we going?”
He didn’t answer but continued down a well-worn dirt road to the south, right behind the barn. Less than two minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small cottage with a simple rail porch. Large weathered terra-cotta pots had been placed along the brick walkway that led to the porch steps. They were ready for planting.
“What’s this?” Becca asked.
Joe played with the leather cover on the steering wheel, avoiding her eyes. “It’ll be easier to monitor what’s going on if you stay at the ranch.”
“What?” She looked from the house and back to him.
He gave a nod of affirmation.
“Oh, no, I could never impose.” The words came quickly as she shook her head.
He focused straight ahead at the mud-spattered windshield, now blurred with drops of rain. “You wouldn’t be imposing. No one is using this place. It’s been empty since last September.”
“Whose house is it?”
“Dan lived here with his daughter before he got married. The place is furnished, too.”
“But—”
“This is strictly a business agreement. I need to complete certification, and having you close by will ensure that will happen as quickly as you’ve promised. Especially since you have to babysit greenhorns, who seem to have a knack for stepping in cow patties everywhere they go.”
She paused, considering his words. “What about Casey?”
“Who’s Casey?”
“My daughter.”
Joe’s jaw sagged. “You have a daughter?”
“I do. She’s six.”
“Yeah. Of course your daughter is welcome.”
Becca stared at him for moments, confusion on her face. Then her eyes widened. “Is this about the rental deal falling through?” She released a small gasp. “You overheard the entire conversation, didn’t you?”
“I heard enough. Doesn’t change the facts.”
She turned away. “Of course it does.”
“Why? I told you, this is business.”
When she didn’t say anything, he muttered a short expression under his breath. Stubborn. He’d forgotten how stubborn the woman could be when her back was against the wall.
“Becca, don’t let your pride stand in the way.”
“It’s not my pride. I’m used to that being shredded.” She met his gaze for a moment, then shifted her attention out the window. “I...don’t think you understand what’s going on here, Joe.”
“Going on? What do you mean?”
“Letting me stay on your ranch may put you right in the center of the bull’s-eye.” She gestured with her hands.
“You aren’t making any sense.”
“Why do you think I didn’t get that rental house?” Rebecca asked.
“I have a few ideas.”
“So do I. Nick’s grandfather. I’m sure of it. Judge Nicholas Brown used his considerable influence to sway the courts to bring what was simply a horrible car accident to a jury trial.”
Joe opened his mouth and closed it again, his lips forming a thin line.
“My bail was set so high that my mother was left scrambling to raise the money. I sat in jail for two weeks. Two weeks. Do you know what it’s like to be in jail, Joe?” She swallowed. “Do you have any idea?”
Hands tightening on the steering wheel, Joe’s head jerked back as though he’d been hit.
She took a steadying breath. “When Hollis Elliott heard about it, he put up the bond money.”
“I don’t get it. You were found innocent.”
“Judge Brown continues to punish me for Nick’s death.”
“Why, if it was an accident?”
“Not in his mind.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I think he’s aiming for custody of my daughter.”
“He has no grounds for that.”
“Rich people live in a different world than you and me. He’s a prominent citizen in the valley. He owns a lot of property in Four Forks. He’ll claim he can better provide for Casey.” She released a breath. “The truth is that he can.”
“You’re her mother. You’re employed, and now you have a place to call home.”
Rebecca shook her head as she gazed with longing at the little house. “You don’t know the judge,” she murmured. Her hands trembled as she met his gaze yet again. “If I stay here, he might very well retaliate against you. Against Gallagher Ranch, as well. You need to know that up front.”