The Rancher's Second Chance Read online

  “There’s no moon tomorrow night. That too soon for you?”

  Monfort shook his head, set the clipboard beside him in the seat and put his truck in gear. “I’ll have somebody over there before dark.” He nodded and eased down the dirt lane toward the pavement raising a wake of low dust behind him.

  The cows had moved down the fence until they stood directly across from the penned babies. Garcia opened a back gate and the little blacks loped across the lane. Buckling their front knees, all three inched under the pipe fence and headed for lunch.

  Laura watched, enthralled by the homecoming. The scene tugged at her overworked emotions and her eyes teared. Eli walked up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders with a quick squeeze. “Quite a sight, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, afraid that if she opened her mouth her voice wouldn’t work.

  Chapter 18

  The aroma of simmering beans with onion and green chili nearly knocked Laura over when they entered the back porch. Her stomach rallied with a loud snarl.

  “Pete and Re-Pete,” she said with a gasp. “I forgot to let them out.”

  Eli washed his hands in the sink and dried them as he answered. “They’ll be fine. I’ll take you home after lunch and you can let them out.”

  Guilt pushed her to insist they go immediately, but Eli wasn’t a taxi service. And he was right—another hour wouldn’t starve them. She’d left a full bowl the previous evening before the prowler incident, and they never cleaned out their dish overnight.

  “Mija,” Garcia began. “Can you make corn bread for our beans?”

  Happy to be useful, she patted the man’s shoulder and took a large bowl from the cupboard. “I sure can. Glad you asked.”

  Eli busied himself at the opposite counter with a long knife and a longer watermelon. He quickly chopped the melon in half, sliced green-rimmed circles of deep pink, then cut them into quarters and placed them on a serving platter.

  Thirty minutes later—with fresh corn bread on the table—they all took a seat.

  Laura bowed her head as always, but this time Eli reached for her hand.

  “Thank You, Lord, for this meal and for protecting Laura last night. And thank You for bringing some of our stock home.”

  His mention of her name tied a knot in her throat and kept her head down and her eyes closed, but Garcia offered a quiet “Gracias, amén.” Something had indeed happened inside Eli since their last meal together.

  Cutting the hot, yellow bread into squares, she served the men and then buttered her own thick slice. Garcia’s flavorful beans filled their bowls, their quiet mouths and finally their grateful stomachs.

  “I can never get mine to taste as good as yours, abuelito,” Laura said.

  His dark eyes shone with a secret pride. “Keep trying, mija. Someday you will get them just right.”

  Setting his bowl aside, Eli reached for a watermelon slice. “You’ve got two options regarding the prowler,” he said, slicing his fork through the watery fruit.

  Immediately sobered, she fixed him with an intent look. “And they are?”

  “A motion sensor light with an alarm, or a big dog.”

  She let out a heavy sigh.

  “Motion sensors are inexpensive,” he continued, “and immediate, but visiting critters might set them off.”

  “Visiting critters?” She thought of Pennington.

  “Skunks, raccoons. It might be interesting to sprinkle flour on your porch some evening to see what tracks are left by morning.”

  “That’s amazing,” she said, truly intrigued. “I’ve never thought of such a thing.”

  He reached for another melon slice. “Dogs cost more, plus you have the ongoing expense of feeding one, not to mention the time it takes for one to mature. Unless you buy a full-grown dog to begin with.”

  “But I’ve read that dogs are the number one deterrent to home burglars.”

  “Unless they are our Goldie.” Garcia grinned.

  Eli chuckled and forked the last pink bite from the rind. “And they’re better company than a light and alarm.”

  Laura knew how much he loved the old retriever. It wouldn’t be long, and he might be looking for another companion.

  A related thought fluttered through her mind, one she quickly swallowed with corn bread and butter.

  * * *

  With assaults on two fronts—a snoop at Laura’s and cattle thieves at his place—Eli considered his options. He’d prefer to have Laura stay at the ranch, but she refused for obvious reasons. Even Garcia had raised his ragged brows when Eli suggested it at lunch.

  He could camp out on her hill in the dark and leave Garcia below to watch the ranch, but that spread their defenses too thin. Laura’s decision made the most sense. She would get a dog and motion detectors that she could turn off during the day. The double coverage would help restore her sense of privacy and provide safety.

  She also had the shotgun, but he didn’t know if she could use it if someone broke in on her.

  Honestly, he hoped he never learned the answer to that question.

  Sunday afternoon he and Garcia saddled up and drove the reunited cow-calf pairs from the north pasture into the neighboring section which happened to be the farthest to the east. The one they hoped the thieves would target Monday night.

  He and Garcia would be waiting in the apple orchard with night vision goggles and mounts ready. Things might get real Western by the time they boxed the rustlers in against the brand inspector’s men at the rodeo grounds.

  * * *

  Monday’s five forty-five alarm sounded as Laura lay wide awake listening to the faint rumble of Eli’s tractor engine in her lower pasture. She punched the button and dived back into bed, grateful for a quiet night, but not quite ready to leave her nest. She’d driven into town Sunday afternoon and purchased two motion detector lights. The hardware-store clerk tested the alarms for her, and she firmly believed their ungodly racket would either chase off any would-be intruder or frighten him to death.

  She’d easily installed them herself, one on the front porch and one on the back. And since she’d slept through the night unawakened by the raucous clamor, she evidently hadn’t had any “visiting critters,” either.

  She smiled to herself at Eli’s comment about skunks and raccoons.

  So much for happy memories—or unsettling ones. Mary would be at their rendezvous point by six sharp, and the kittens sounded like two elephants tumbling in the laundry room. Time to get up.

  Laura drove down the hill, feeling less vulnerable with a vehicle. She might need a little time to shake the sensation of being watched. Even in the daytime.

  Proud to be at the edge of the road when Mary came into view, she was surprised to see another runner—a girl about eight or nine years old. She must be Mary’s bread-baking granddaughter.

  “Good morning,” Mary said. She laid a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Lily, this is Laura Bell, the friend I told you about.”

  “Nice to meet you.” The little red-haired girl held her hand out with a grown-up expression in her green eyes.

  “And it’s nice to meet you, too,” Laura said with a smile. “What grade will you be in next fall?”

  “Fourth.”

  “Well, I might see you sometime if I get to be a substitute teacher for your school.”

  “Lily here is quite the little homemaker,” Mary said. “She’s the one who bakes snicker doodle bread for me and her grandpa.”

  The girl raised her chin with an air of self-confidence.

  “We’ll have to compare recipes, Lily. After I saw your grandmother eating your bread one morning in her store, I came right home and tried baking a loaf myself.”

  “Did you eat it all?”

  “No, I gave some to a friend.
”

  “Grandma?”

  Laura felt a blush slide across her cheeks. “No, to my neighbor who lives on the ranch below. We’ll go right by his pastures on our run.”

  “Speaking of which, we’d better get going if I’m going to stay on schedule.” Mary flexed her legs and set off down the road.

  Lily easily kept up with her grandmother, and Laura’s pride took a not-so-subtle hit. She was about to be outrun by generations on each end of her personal timeline.

  She wanted to mention the peeping Tom, but not in Lily’s hearing. On their return, she held back and managed to catch Mary’s attention. The woman slowed her pace and Lily continued on ahead.

  “Thanks for slowing,” Laura said.

  “Are you still sore?”

  “No, I just want to tell you about something that happened, but I don’t want to frighten Lily.”

  Mary frowned and scrutinized Laura’s face. “Is everything all right?”

  “Not exactly. Someone was prowling around outside my place Saturday night. Apparently looking in my windows. I installed motion sensors with alarms yesterday afternoon. They weren’t set off last night, so that’s good news.”

  Mary slowed to a walk and looked ahead at her granddaughter who had stopped near Laura’s road. “How do you know someone was there? Did you hear them?”

  Suddenly Laura felt uneasy about explaining Eli’s discovery of the prowler, but Mary didn’t seem to think it odd.

  “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll tell Rich and a few other people to be on the lookout.”

  “Eli thinks it may be a teenager,” Laura said. “Are there any young men living up the road that you know of?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are. I’ll check around and get back to you.”

  They parted at the mailboxes and as Mary and Lily continued on, Laura momentarily considered the bright yellow bell on the third box from the right end. Then she turned away and walked to her car, clicked the key lock and slipped inside.

  On the way to the house she wondered how Pete and Re-Pete would feel about a canine roommate.

  * * *

  The animal shelter employee remembered Laura from her earlier visit.

  “How are the kittens?” she asked as they walked back to the dog kennels.

  “Growing like the national debt,” Laura said. “They are more fun than I could have imagined.”

  “Yeah, they were a playful pair.” She walked past two rows and turned into an aisle that echoed with howls and barks and whimpers.

  Laura began to doubt whether she could get out of the shelter with just one animal.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” the employee asked.

  “I need a watchdog. But I don’t want one that’s going to bite friendlies. And I don’t know if I want a full-grown dog or one that I can raise myself.”

  The caretaker stopped before a concrete-block and chain-link enclose. A sad-eyed pit bull lay on its belly, head on paws.

  Laura knew the breed had gotten a bad rap, but she wasn’t ready for a full-grown, unknown entity with a grisly reputation. “Maybe not,” she said softly.

  The next kennel harbored two baying black-and-tan hound puppies that were all leg and ear and tail. And voice. Laura covered her ears and shook her head. “Sorry.”

  Cage after cage held everything from adorable lap dogs to pitiful abandonment cases. This was not working out so well. Maybe she needed to do a little research before making a commitment.

  And then she saw the little blue heeler pup sitting quietly on its haunches, pointed ears up, eyes alert.

  “What about him?” she asked.

  “You mean her.”

  The caretaker opened the gate and knelt before the puppy that licked her extended hand and attempted to wag its stubby tail. “This one’s a keeper, I tell you. If someone doesn’t take her, I’m going to talk my husband into it.” She looked up with a guilty expression. “That’s the downside of working here. I keep taking home the orphans.”

  Laura could name a few other downsides, but kept the more depressing thoughts to herself. She held out a hand and the puppy showered her with kisses, as well.

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Not yet.” The woman stood and pulled the gate closed, and moved on to the next kennel. The puppy yipped once, and Laura took a step back and peeked around the wall. It sat with its head cocked to one side, those sharp black ears pointed skyward. Intelligent eyes bore into hers and seemed to promise protection and companionship.

  “I’ll take her.”

  * * *

  Laura left the puppy at the shelter, and drove into town for a dog carrier, a new collar and chain, puppy food, a bed and doggy treats. After the challenges of getting the kittens home in a cardboard box on her floorboard, the carrier was a must.

  But rather than whimper and fight its confinement, the little heeler lay quietly, head on paws, watching Laura through the carrier’s metal-grate door.

  “What’s your name?” Laura asked. Each time she spoke, the dog perked its ears.

  “You don’t strike me as a house dog, but I can’t let you run all over the hills.”

  She slowed and turned left onto the county road. “We have coyotes.”

  At that, the pup raised its head and gave a little yip.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll let you sleep inside until you’re all grown up. Or build a kennel for you. Would you like that?”

  Dark chocolate eyes watched her from atop gray mottled paws.

  At her turn, Laura slowed and her eyes were drawn to the yellow bell. Rather than adding to her good memories, it taunted her, as if ringing out, “No mail—no mail again today.”

  She might have to remove it.

  Laura took the carrier to the front porch, then returned to the car for her purchases. She set the dog food bag against one French door and unlocked the other.

  “Welcome home,” she said as she brought the carrier inside.

  Curious mews from the laundry room greeted her, and when she opened the door, the kittens darted out like rockets. Until they saw the dog.

  Arching their spines like Halloween cats, they flattened their ears and flared their tails and stalked sideways in front of the puppy.

  “Be nice, you guys. This is your new roommate.”

  Laura sat cross-legged next to the carrier, pinched the lock open and reached in, pulling the little heeler into her lap. Pete and Re-Pete hissed and posed, and she laughed at their posturing.

  “So, boys, what do we call our new little lady?”

  Chapter 19

  Eli set and tamped the last post several yards east and downhill from Laura’s house. She’d driven in about thirty minutes earlier, and the thought of ice-cold water and her sweet smile seemed mighty good at the moment. He took his hat off and waved it at Garcia who lifted his welder’s mask.

  Eli jerked his head toward the house. “Let’s go up for some water.”

  Garcia set the helmet aside, grabbed his hat and secured his equipment.

  On the shaded front porch, Eli slapped his hat against his dusty jeans, sleeved the sweat from his face and knocked. Circumstances had been a lot different when he’d knocked two nights ago. He noted the motion sensor above the doorframe.

  This time Laura swung the door wide and stood holding a blue heeler pup that gurgled a throaty growl.

  “These are the friendlies, girl. No growling.” She stroked the little dog’s head and stepped back for the men to enter.

  “We’re dirty,” Eli said. “We’ll just borrow your shade out here. But we could sure use some ice water.” He eyed the pup. “Nice dog.”

  “Thank you. And absolutely.” She came outside. “You’ve got the swing there, and I’ll bring another chair. Guess I need f
urniture out here, don’t I?”

  Garcia murmured softly and offered the back of his hand to the puppy. “Ah, chica bonita,” he crooned. “She will be a good dog for you.”

  The puppy lowered her ears and licked his hand.

  “She likes you, and you may have solved my problem.” Laura buried her face against the dog’s neck. “How about Chica? Would you like that?”

  The puppy squirmed and licked her face.

  “Would you hold her for me while I get you men something cold to drink?” She offered the wiggly bundle to Eli who scooped the pup into his arms and took a seat on the steps.

  Garcia claimed the swing and fanned himself with his palm leaf hat.

  Laura returned with a chair, but took her time with the water. Eli considered looking for a hose when the screen door opened and she stepped through with a tray of sandwiches and two glasses of ice water.

  “You don’t have to feed us,” Eli said, getting to his feet.

  “Yes, I do. It’s lunch time.” She held the tray for Garcia who helped himself to a glass and two sandwiches.

  “Gracias, mija,” he said.

  She set the tray on the porch railing, and Chica squirmed from Eli’s arms into hers.

  “She hasn’t moved this much all morning,” Laura said. “You seem to have brightened her day.”

  Eli propped his hat on the railing, picked up a sandwich and glass, and took a long, cold drink. Then he joined Laura on the steps. “We’re about finished with the fence,” he said between bites. “I’ll be pulling cable and Garcia’s got a few more pipes to weld. Then we’ll pull out the old T-posts and barbed wire.”

  The dog finally wiggled from Laura’s hold and bounded across the porch to Garcia. A worried look bunched Laura’s brows.

  Eli reached for her hand. “She’ll be okay. Let her sniff around, get to know her territory.”

  “You’re probably right,” she said, and leaned against his arm. “The fence—you were talking about the fence.” She straightened and looked toward the lower pasture. “It great. What a relief to not have to worry about Pennington’s stock pushing through.”