Wrangling The Rancher

“I’m a smooth talker.” And since her suspicions—her attitude, really—was starting to piss him off, he saw no reason to mention that Karl had been concerned about the place being broken into during his absence. Having Cole living there solved a problem for both of them, but too much explaining was only going to give her more to latch onto. He glanced past Taylor to the teapot-shaped clock on the wall. “I also have to get to work.”

“You have a job?”

“Yes,” he said in his patient guest-ranch-manager voice. “I’m a farmer.”

CHAPTER TWO (#ua3731951-684f-504e-b71f-41a2654879d6)

TAYLOR DIDN’T KNOW what to think when she got back into her car. The guy didn’t seem like a criminal, but he also wasn’t giving her much to work with as far as making judgments about him. Even though he was a self-proclaimed farmer, she’d bet money that he’d worked in a people-related field in the past. And he was ridiculously good-looking. His face was all angles and hollows, and she was fairly certain if he smiled, he’d have some decent creases down his cheeks. Dark hair, light green eyes...a lot to like there. Physically. Having worked with her fair share of attractive guys who turned out to be control freaks and douchebags, she no longer judged the book by the cover. A pretty face didn’t mean the guy wasn’t taking advantage of Karl. She’d ask her grandfather a few more questions once she got to Dillon.

And then she’d sleep. Night was her time, but it had been a long, rainy drive and she was exhausted. She hoped Karl had a spare room so she could crash.

As it turned out, there was no spare room in either place. Her grandfather and great-aunt shared a small duplex—two one bedroom apartments separated by a garage. Elise’s side was crammed with bric-a-brac, pillows, afghans and all manner of comfortable, cushy things, while on Karl’s side furniture was scarce, consisting of a secondhand dinette set, one leather recliner and a hundred-year-old sofa that he proclaimed to be “just fine.” And it was, if you didn’t mind sinking to the floor when you sat down. Taylor had a feeling that her grandfather didn’t much care—he had his recliner and very few visitors, since his friends all lived in the Eagle Valley.

After visiting with Elise, Taylor and her grandfather went through the connecting garage to his side of the duplex. Taylor took the cup of tea he brewed, then made the mistake of sitting on the sofa. She sank low and her knees felt like they were close to her chin. There was no end table to put her cup on, so she was stuck sitting there until she either finished her tea or asked her grandfather for help. She decided to finish her tea. Karl settled in his recliner, and if he noticed her discomfort, he said nothing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said. “I was in a work frenzy from Christmas until two months ago—”

“And then you got fired.”

“Laid off, Grandpa.” She stared down into her tea. Laid off. Let go. It was the same as being terminated but didn’t carry quite as much stigma. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“After working those crazy hours, I imagine not.”

“Yeah.”

“So now what, Tay?”

“I’ve been looking for work in Seattle, and it seems that everyone is tightening their belts.”

“Have you looked elsewhere?”

“The Bay Area, Portland. Spokane.” But it was going to be expensive to relocate.

“Nothing?” He gave her a look that made her feel as if she needed to say something to convince him that she wasn’t slacking. Or maybe to convince herself she wasn’t slacking.

“Not even an interview. The most I’ve gotten is ‘we’ll keep your name on file.’” She took a sip of tea and managed not to choke. Her grandfather made tea the way other people made coffee. “I just need to be patient. Times are tough, but I know if I persevere, I’ll nail something down.” Another small sip, because small was all she could handle. “Something even better than what I had.”

“And for now?” Her grandfather gave her a shrewd look. “Because it appears that this might take some time.”

Taylor balanced her cup on her knee. “Yes. About that...if I don’t get an infusion of cash soon, I’ll lose my apartment.”

“I can see that happening,” Karl agreed, which was not the response she’d expected.

“I was on a waiting list for almost two years to get into that building.” Downtown, close to the Wharf. She loved it so much—she felt a rush of gratefulness every time she looked out over the city and the Sound from her bedroom window—and since there was only one bedroom, a roommate wasn’t possible.

“Things change, Tay.”

Things change? Yes, they did, but if one was resourceful, they didn’t have to change too much.

“I don’t want to lose my apartment, and I don’t want to drain my savings keeping it.”

“What about your car?”

“I can’t get out of it what I put into it, but yes, I will sell it...if I have to.”

Karl leaned forward in his chair. “What do you want, Taylor? From me, I mean.”

She felt her cheeks go warm. He was gently chiding her. They’d been super close at one time, and he’d always been her biggest cheerleader. But when she went to work for Stratford, she’d started logging the crazy hours, living a crazy life. When she wasn’t working or trying to cram some relaxation in—which was almost as exhausting as working—she was sleeping. She’d meant to call, truly she had.

But she hadn’t.

“The money you lent me to go to school?” Which she’d paid back in full over a year ago. “Could I borrow it again?”

Her grandfather’s mouth tightened, and the fact that he didn’t instantly say yes made her stomach knot up. “I put it into some long-term funds. If I pull it out now, I’m going to lose money.”

Taylor’s heart sank. It was his money, of course, but...honestly? She’d figured borrowing the money back would be a slam dunk and mutually beneficial. Karl would get interest. She’d get a safety net, which, properly managed, would help her if she took one of many much-lower-paying jobs she’d been looking at to tide her over.

Damn, damn, damn.

She tried to work up a smile but had a feeling it looked kind of sick, because she felt kind of sick. “I understand. And...this isn’t the only reason I’m here.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to tell you that I was a loser.”

“Everyone loses, Tay.”

Not her. Not often, at least, and never in such a huge way.

“I guess.” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t stomach any more of the strong tea, which meant she was stuck on the sofa forever or until Karl relieved her of the cup.

She looked at her grandfather then and wondered, judging from the way he was looking at her, if he wanted her trapped there.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you’re welcome to live on the farm if you want and look for a job locally to tide you over. I’d invite you to live here, but I don’t have much room.”

That was an understatement. His house had one bedroom, one bath, a tiny kitchen and a living room. It was truly a single-person house.

“I...uh...” Would hate so much to lose my place. The apartment was even more of a symbol of what she’d accomplished than her car. And her mother was so ridiculously proud of her. “I appreciate it, Grandpa. But what about that guy living there?”

“There’s always the bunkhouse.”

“It needs work.”

“You’re resourceful.”

“Me?” Taylor almost spilled her tea. And she felt ridiculously betrayed. “But—”

“He’s paid a month’s rent on the house. It wouldn’t be right to ask him to move midmonth.”