The Rancher's Nanny

Chapter One

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me.” Little Paige Pole folded her arms and glared up at her father.

Caleb smiled and moved behind her on the tire swing, and began to push her back and forth. He loved his little girl, but at his mother’s urging he’d decided to reach out to someone to help him. The ranch was stronger than ever, requiring work every single day. He hired over fifty people now, and still had a great deal of work to do himself. He preferred to be more hands-on with his ranch than allow anyone else to do any work that he could do.

“They’re going to be helping you. Taking you to school, picking you up, being there when I can’t be. Also helping you with homework.”

She blew a raspberry. “What’s wrong with Granny taking care of me?”

“She’s getting a lot older, and the journeys into town are no longer appealing to her.”

Paige sighed. “I don’t want to be cared for. It’s a load of crap.”

“Watch your language, young lady.”

“I don’t want to be a lady,” she said, jumping off the swing, dumping her ass down on the ground and folding her arms. “I want to be a rancher.”

Ever since her mother left, it had been just him and his little girl. He should have known Ivory would never settle down. She’d stayed a couple of years on the ranch, and the moment an opportunity had been open to her, he’d found Paige alone in her crib, the house empty, and a single letter along with divorce papers waiting for him.

He and Ivory had never been close, just a quick fling every once in a while, which had resulted in her getting pregnant. Neither of them had wanted to be in a relationship.

“You’ll be a rancher, honey. Nothing is ever going to stop you from being one. I promise. On weekends after homework and all of the chores are done, you’ll be out there with me, keeping the men in line.”

His daughter pushed her black hair off her face and smiled up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

All of his ranchers adored Paige, and she threw herself into his arms. “I don’t want anything to change, Daddy.”

“Nothing is going to change. You’ll see.”

Taking her hand, he walked with her the short trek back to his home. The hands had already left for the day. His stomach was empty, and he was tired. So fucking tired. At forty years old, he’d expected to be somewhere in his life.

The truth was, he’d expected to have a family like his brother, who also owned part of the ranch. Mike had four kids, and his wife was always so busy taking care of them that he didn’t want to force Paige on her, even though he knew deep down the other woman wouldn’t mind. Mike’s wife was a kind, loving woman.

He’d never been envious of his younger brother before in his life. He didn’t know the real meaning of the word. Every time he saw his brother’s family, though, he felt something. A yearning, a need, something that always twisted a knife in his gut, and he wished he had what Mike had.

The women he’d met didn’t want to be a rancher’s wife. They hated getting up early, or cooking a big feast for the crew, or even staying on the ranch and helping out. None of the women he’d met wanted that.

Sure, they liked the large, open spaces, but that was pretty much it. After a few months, they always got bored. He’d hoped in the two years Paige’s mother would have settled down.

To him, Ivory had been an easy lay. He didn’t need to worry about a big show of dinner, wine, and jewels. She’d been more than happy to screw him. Then of course he got her knocked up with Paige, and the rest had been history.

Now Ivory was gone, and his mother had convinced him to find a nanny. There happened to be one in town whom he’d organized an interview with tomorrow morning. He didn’t know much about the twenty-nine-year-old woman.

He’d seen her a couple of times around town, but nothing really stuck out other than her glossy red hair.

Entering his home, he welcomed the scent of chili. It was his mother’s favorite, and one of the only dishes she really knew how to cook, but they all loved it.

Paige ran to the kitchen, and when he entered, she was already washing her hands.

“Go take those boots off now,” his mother said.

“Hey, Mom.” He kissed her cheek, washing his hands and kicking his boots off at the back door.

“How was work today?”

“Long, hard, painful.” He gave a little stretch, feeling the years of hard work as he cracked every bone while stretching.

“You work yourself too hard.”

“I like being hands-on.”

“No, you chose to be hands-on.”