It Takes a Cowboy

“I don’t know, he didn’t say. His name is Ben and he’s a local rancher. About sixty, I would guess. Average height, but considerably overweight. Plainspoken, but pleasant.”

Relaxing again, Scott shook his head. “No, I can’t say I know him. Did Jeff have a good time?”

“He enjoyed it very much. He spent a lot of time talking to a boy from his school. Maybe he’ll start making more friends if he attends more local events.”

“Baseball season starts in the next couple of weeks. Have you considered signing him up?”

“I tried to talk him into it, but he refused. He said he didn’t see the point since he doesn’t expect to be in Lightning Creek for the entire season.”

“Because he thinks his father will be back for him?”

She nodded.

“Have you ever suggested to the kid that his father might not be back for a long time? That he should be prepared to make a life for himself here with you?”

“I’ve hinted. He refuses to hear it. To push it any further would only make him angry and defensive again.”

“You could be right,” Scott conceded. Despite his own experiences, he was no expert on child psychology. Blair had to trust her instincts on this.

“Where are we going?” She was looking out the side window in curiosity, as if she’d only just become aware that they had left Lightning Creek, and its limited selection of dining establishments, behind.

“Someplace where we can have a delicious meal and a relaxing, private atmosphere in which to enjoy it. My ranch.”

She half turned on her seat to face him. “We’re going to your place? How far is it?”

“Another forty minutes or so. I hope you aren’t starving.”

“Are you cooking dinner for us?”

He shook his head with a laugh. “I said we’re going to have delicious food, remember? That pretty much disqualifies me, since grilled trout is my only company dish, and I’ve already made that for you. My housekeeper is preparing a meal for us. She’s a great cook. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Your housekeeper?”

He nodded. “Margaret. She’s a treasure. She’s been with me for fifteen years, ever since her husband died of cancer. Her children were grown and have moved away and she wanted a home to take care of—and maybe someone new to mother,” he added ironically. “I suppose you could say she found both with me.”

“She lives with you?”

“Yes, she has a small suite at the back of the house—a bedroom, bath and sitting room. She says it’s all she needs.”

“Does anyone else live on the ranch?”

“My ranch foreman and his wife have a bungalow not far from the main house. The hands live in the bunkhouse, of course. And then there’s Carolyn, my assistant. She has a bedroom and sitting room upstairs in the main house.”

That seemed to startle Blair more than anything he’d said so far. “Your assistant lives with you?”

“She lives in the same house,” he corrected her. “Remember, I’m not there that often. Carolyn keeps things running smoothly while I’m gone—not the ranch operations, my foreman takes care of that—the bookkeeping and correspondence and payroll and everyday business things like that. She also keeps track of my earnings from the outside investments my parents left me.”

“She doesn’t have a family?”

“No. She’s related to my housekeeper—the daughter of a cousin. That’s how I found her. Margaret brought her to me.”

Though she still looked a bit confused, Blair didn’t ask any more questions. Scott knew she would understand better when she met Carolyn.

“It sou

nds as if you’re responsible for the livelihood of quite a few people.”

He wasn’t sure he would have worded it quite that way. “The ranch supports quite a few people,” he amended.