The Rancher’s Unexpected Nanny Read online

  As if he’d pulled them out of his hat by thinking of them, he saw a familiar van turn off the county road, starting down the long, dusty drive. “Speak of the devil,” he chuckled to himself, shaking his head and taking another sip of beer.

  Not that he thought of his in-laws as devils. He had gotten lucky with them, aside from some natural tensions when he and Alexandra had come back to the ranch to take over on account of her father's accident, a bad fall from a horse and subsequent trampling that had left the man paralyzed from the waist down. Finn could still dimly remember the way he'd fought to convince himself that the move would only be temporary.

  He should have known, even then, that it wouldn’t be easy to walk away. When Brian and Stacy had moved farther into town to be closer to Brian’s doctors, the permanency of the situation had begun to feel like a noose around his neck.

  After Alexandra's death, though, Finn had been glad to have them around. He hadn’t been sure if he was going to be able to make it through another day, and they had helped him to get through the worst of it.

  He was always glad to see them these days. It was good to break bread with family. You never knew how long you were going to have them around.

  “Finn! So happy to see you, son!” Stacy called, stepping out of the van and waving at him exuberantly.

  “Good to see you, too, Stacy,” he laughed, setting his beer on the porch’s front railing and taking the steps two at a time. He met his mother-in-law at the van’s door in time to help unload Brian’s chair.

  Brian scanned his surroundings with an eagle eye. “Stacy,” he barked before offering up so much as a hello, “soon as I’m out of here and back on solid ground, why don’t you head up to the barns and get a look at the horses? Make sure they’re all fed and brushed.”

  “Sure thing, dear,” Stacy answered, smiling quickly at Finn over the top of her husband’s head.

  “Good,” Brian went on without seeing the brief exchange, “and while you’re at it, take a gander at the kittens. Wendy called me last night, said the barn cat delivered the other day. Best see to them, make sure they’re coming along well enough.”

  "That's mighty thoughtful of you, Brian," Finn said with a grin, "somehow I never took you for a cat kind of a man."

  "Please," the older man scoffed and waved his hand in the air dismissively, "don't care a lick for the mangy things. But Wendy seems to care for them. Wouldn't do to see them die off after being born. It'd break her little heart, and I'm not going to let that happen."

  When Finn and Alexandra had first come to live at the ranch, Brian had been tough to take. It seemed to Finn that grown men weren't meant to live under the same roof. It was way too easy to butt heads when multiple people were trying to be the man of the house. That first year, Finn had been on edge almost twenty-four seven, constantly waiting to hear what disapproving comment or order Brian would come up with next.

  By now, he was used to it. He might even say that he saw it as a gesture of love and caring. Alexandra had always referred to it as her father’s way. Finn only wished he had understood it better when she had been alive.

  “Is that all right, Finn?” Stacy asked with an apologetic smile, pointedly ignoring Brian’s look of exasperation.

  “Of course it’s all right, woman!” Brian cried, throwing up his hands in an I don’t know what to do with her gesture. “He knows I’m only looking out for the place, don’t you, Finn?”

  "Sure, Brian, I know. Go right on ahead, Stacy. You can check on the horses, the kittens, whatever else you like. I'd welcome the extra eyes, if you want to know the truth. Things have been a little crazy around here. It's not completely out of line to think that I might have missed something."

  “Well, I’m sure you didn’t,” Stacy said, smiling, “but I’ll give it a once-over just for good measure.”

  Brian nodded, satisfied that she was doing what he'd asked whether or not it was for the right reasons. That left Brian and Finn and the tinge of awkwardness that hung between them when the two of them got together. At that moment, Wendy’s joyful giggles drifted from the house. Brian looked toward the screen door wistfully, and Finn didn't need to ask to know what he was thinking. The same thought crossed his mind every time he heard Wendy’s laugh, the exact mirror of her mother's, just as her eyes were the same shade of green. It was the kind of thing a person could get lost in if he let himself.

  “Hey, Brian,” Finn said, a little more gruffly than he meant to, “you want me to grab you a beer or something?”

  “Nah, I don’t need a beer. Maybe with supper. Did Stacy tell you we’re planning on staying for supper?”

  “She did,” Finn nodded, “Wendy’s really excited about it, too.”

  “That’s good, my boy.” Brian nodded to himself, then added, “And now that I’ve got you alone—”

  “Now that you’ve got me alone?” Finn said with a snort of laughter before he could stop himself. Brian shot him one of his patented looks of warning, and Finn buttoned it up fast. He took another sip of beer, more because he wanted something to do than because he wanted the drink. Then he set the bottle down and turned his attention to the porch railing.

  "What are you doing there, son?" Brian asked. His voice was only mildly disapproving, but Finn had no doubt that he reserved the right to ramp it up a couple of notches if he didn't like the answer. Brian was a good old boy of a rancher, to be sure. Not being able to do the job anymore didn't make him any less of a hard-ass.

  "Just adjusting the railing, that's all. I keep meaning to get the damned thing taken care of, but there never seems to be enough time in the day. If I'm not careful, I'm going to go to my grave with the spindles still not screwed on the right way."

  Brian wasn’t buying it. “What is it, Finn? What’s on your mind?”

  “What?” Finn grunted, getting down on his haunches for a better look at what he was dealing with. “Nothing’s on my mind, Brian. I’m just trying to keep up with everything.”

  "Now, hold on a minute, son," Brian insisted, "I'm serious now. Something's troubling you. Might could have been for a while now. I should have asked earlier, I know, but I'm asking now, and I mean it. I want an honest-to-God real answer from you. What's on your mind?"

  It was the use of "son" that got to Finn. He and Brian had known each other for years now, technically been family for many of them. Still, Brian didn’t throw the word around. He wasn't a man who typically got anywhere near emotional, so when he did, Finn tended to sit up and take notice.

  “Everything’s fine at the end of the day,” the younger man finally answered with a sigh, “and I don’t think there’s anything I could say that wouldn’t sound an awful lot like bellyaching.”

  “Why don’t you just try me? If you’re worried that I won’t tell you if it’s all BS, you needn’t be.”

  “No,” Finn laughed, “I can’t say I’m worried about that.”

  “Go on then,” Brian persisted, “rope that cow.”

  "There's just a lot going on right now," Finn began slowly, then looked up to meet Brian’s keen gaze. “The ranch is going well, but it's getting busier by the day. Seems like every time I turn around, somebody else is coming to me for something. Now I've got Wendy's teacher telling me that Wendy would do better with some fancy private school than the place where she is now. And of course, it’s about an hour's drive from here."

  “Hold on,” Brian interrupted, his face giving away the first sign of genuine concern, “Wendy needs to change schools? Why’s that? Is something the matter? Is she struggling with something?”

  "No, not like that," Finn sighed, running his hand through his hair with poorly concealed agitation. "It's the exact opposite, actually. She's doing so well that her teacher is afraid she's bored where she is. My guess is that the lady's afraid boredom leads to other kinds of trouble somewhere down the line, and I s’pose I can see her point there."

  “Lord knows I saw plenty of that kind of thing when I was coming up in schoo
l,” Brian offered up as his two cents.

  “So now there’s this school to consider,” Finn said. “It offers classes over the summer, and on top of everything else, I’m trying to get in some time to start training for the rodeo again. I’m starting to feel kind of trapped, Brian, you know? Have you ever felt that way? Trapped by your own damned life?”

  He wanted to kick himself the minute the words left his mouth. For starters, you had to be the worst kind of stupid to ask a man in a wheelchair if he’d ever felt like life was trapping him. Second, and this was almost as bad as the wheelchair thing, was the mention of the rodeo.

  Finn’s involvement in the rodeo hadn’t been Alexandra’s most favorite thing about him. He could remember more than one occasion when the two of them had gotten into some pretty heated arguments about him continuing, arguments that had ramped up after Wendy was born, ending only when they had moved to the ranch to care for Brian as he tried to mend, and Finn had given up the circuit.

  It was actually Brian who had been the most vehemently against Finn's involvement in the rodeo, something the man had never hesitated to state at the top of his voice. His father-in-law's loud opinions had been another point of contention between Finn and Alexandra, but Brian had either not noticed or not cared, taking every opportunity available to expound on the dangers of living the life of a rodeo star. Finn could only imagine what the older man would make of the idea of renewing his involvement now. Thinking about it caused his whole body to tense up, and he had to force his hands to keep from balling into tight fists.

  “Well,” Brian finally said after a moment of quiet contemplation, “I won’t lie to you. It sounds like you’ve got a lot of responsibilities at the moment.”

  "That's all I'm trying to say," Finn said with a heavy sigh, "I feel a bit like I'm drowning here, like things are just happening, and I'm doing my best to hang on for dear life."

  “I can see why you would feel that way,” Brian nodded. “I just so happen to see things a little differently.”

  “Is that so? And how do you see them, Brian?”

  “I know it’s you that has to live your life, not me, but it sounds like you’ve got nothing but good things coming at you. Business is busy because you’re a natural at running this place. I don’t want to go so far as to say you’re doing a better job of running the ranch than I did.” Brian gave a lopsided smile. “That might just be my fragile ego getting in the way.”

  "Brian—" Finn stammered uncertainly. His father-in-law wasn't the kind of man to dole out compliments haphazardly. When he said a thing, he meant it, and Finn didn't quite know what to make of this last statement.

  “No, hang on a minute,” Brian stopped him. “Let me finish. You’re good at what you do, Finn. That kind of thing gets around, especially in a town as small as this one. People want to do business with you because you’ve built a reputation for yourself, and that’s a good thing.”

  “Well, thanks, Brian. Truly, I appreciate the kind words.”

  “The same thing goes double for you and Wendy,” Brian continued as if he hadn’t heard Finn. “It sounds to me like congratulations are in order on that front.”

  “Congratulations?” Finn parroted stupidly. “I’m sorry, Brian, I’m not sure I’m following you. How do you mean?”

  "Plenty of people in this town are being called in to talk to their kids' teachers because the kids are having trouble, Finn. Hell, plenty of people all over the world are trying to tackle that problem. And here you are, trying to figure out how to keep your daughter engaged because she's just too damned smart. I'd say that deserves a pat on the back, son. It sounds to me like you're doing just as good a job as a father as you are running this ranch."

  Finn couldn’t think of a thing to say, at least nothing that would fit around the surprise lump forming in his throat. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear the simple thought that he was doing a good job. While it didn’t change anything, it was gratifying, nevertheless. He might have even felt better except for the rodeo comment still hanging. A different man might have thought that Brian was going to let this one slide, but not Finn. He knew his father-in-law too well to believe that was ever going to happen.

  "As for the personal training—" the older man started to say as if on cue.

  “I know, I know, not exactly what you wanted to hear,” Finn said, holding his hands palm up in what he could only hope was a placating gesture.

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” Brian said, his tone earnest. “You know I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in that kind of danger. I haven’t made a secret of it.”

  "But?" Finn answered, lifting a weary head.

  "But you deserve to be happy, Finn, to have something in your life that's just for you. Without that, the rest don't amount to a hill of beans."

  "Even if that means rodeo?" Finn asked, hopeful and suspicious in equal measure.

  "I won't pretend to like it, and I won't pretend to understand it. If that's what you need, though, then I guess it's nobody's business to stand in your way."

  “Well, thanks, Brian. I mean it. That means a lot.”

  “I’m glad,” Brian said with a small smile verging on the edge of sly. “Hopefully you won’t mind me adding this last.”

  “Shoot, man,” Finn answered with a grin, picking up his beer again with renewed interest.

  “I’m just sitting here thinking, Finn. Maybe if you can see how good your life really is, if you can see how much you have to live for, you won’t feel the need to risk your life in your off time.”

  Four

  “So what do you say, Callie? You think you’re ready for this?”

  “Please, Finn,” Callie answered with a laugh that made the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck stand up, “you know I already work with kids all the livelong day, don’t you? This isn’t exactly my first rodeo.”

  “Interesting choice of words,” Finn said under his breath, half to himself and half to her.

  He glanced sideways, trying to catch a glimpse of her face without her catching on. Truth be told, he was a little spooked by her words. He had been thinking about the rodeo circuit, and now he had a funny feeling that she could read his thoughts. If that was the case, though, her face gave nothing away. She sat in his pickup staring out the window, her eyes wide and full of wonder.

  “You see something that sparks your interest, Callie?” he asked conversationally, glad to move away from the subject of the rodeo. That was a venture he wasn’t ready to talk about. At least, not yet.

  “Nothing new,” she answered dreamily, “it’s just pretty, that’s all. Even growing up here my whole life, I still think it’s lovely. It will be strange, not being here anymore. Good, but strange.”

  “Interesting,” Finn mused, guiding his truck through the gate announcing his property and over the cattle guard meant to keep the critters from wandering.

  “What’s that?” Callie asked, finally glancing in his direction.

  “You kind of sound like you don’t want to go.”

  “No,” she answered quickly, with a vehemence that surprised him, “I definitely want to go. I can’t just stay in one place my whole life. That’s not really living life, is it?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, a little taken aback by the question. “I haven’t been able to come up with an answer to that one.”

  “Well, take it from one who knows,” she answered with certainty. “Being stuck in one place with no hope of seeing anything else is no way to live. Even so, the Hill Country has a place in my heart forever and for always. I don’t know if I’ll ever see anything lovelier than this, no matter where I go.”

  "It's a good thing you feel that way because we've got the whole summer to get through," Finn chuckled, drawing the truck up close to the house and putting it in park, "and it's going to be a long one. I know you're used to teaching a bunch of kiddos, but you ain't never seen anything like Wendy when she's hopped up on sugar and trying not to g
o to bed."

  "I guess I can't ever say you didn't warn me now, can I?" Callie laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Now, do you mind if we head inside? I might not have mentioned this, but I absolutely hate moving, and I'm pretty well exhausted."

  “You might have mentioned it a time or two,” Finn said with a smile.

  Callie made a face of horror, grimacing dramatically at the mere mention of the moving process they had just completed. Finn saw that, and he couldn't help laughing. True, she had been far from shy about showing her feelings when it came to moving. She had groaned comically and loudly throughout the entire process of loading boxes into the truck. Over several trips, Finn had gotten a good earful as to her opinion on the matter. While she liked the idea of being in many different places during her lifetime, the process of getting there wasn't exactly her cup of tea.

  “We can certainly go inside. I’d like to show you around my home, make sure you feel comfortable enough to call it yours for the next couple of months. There’s just one thing I’d like to warn you about before we head in.”

  “If it’s about Wendy and all her little girl terror, there’s no need,” Callie smiled. “She’s going to be in good hands, Finn, I can promise you that. We have our own special bond, anyway. The two of us are going to get along like two peas in a pod.”

  Glancing at the house, Finn hesitated before answering Callie's question. He knew that it would only be moments now before Stacy brought Wendy out onto the porch. Wendy loved having company on the ranch, seldom as it happened. She would be chomping at the bit to race out the front door and offer Callie her greeting, like the horses whinnied in their stalls, asking to be let out to roam.

  It wasn't Wendy he had reservations about. It was Stacy. He loved his mother-in-law. He was grateful for all the help she had provided over the years. If it hadn't been for Stacy’s warmth and stability on Finn's darkest days, after Alexandra passed, he didn't like to think what would have become of him and his little family. He hadn't ever introduced another person into the mix, though, and doing so now had him on edge. He’d decided to offer Callie the position of nanny on a whim, without talking it over with his in-laws. Once he had broached the subject with Stacy, she had seemed to be completely on board, but he wasn't entirely sure. Of course, since Alexandra's passing, he hadn't been completely sure about much of anything.