True Love at Silver Creek Ranch(22)

As she rose, Doug slapped the table, his smile satisfied. “Then it’s settled.”

Though Brooke retreated to the kitchen, she could still hear his voice.

“We do work hard on the ranch, son,” he said. “Ranchers don’t take vacations, after all. But there was one time Sandy and I wanted to go down to Denver to see a show for the weekend—”

“And a Broncos game,” Sandy interrupted dryly.

Brooke heard the chuckles as she picked up the chocolate-cake pan.

Doug continued, “So, Adam, we hired your dad to be here over the weekend to work alongside Nate, who was still in high school.”

Brooke arrived back in the dining room in time to see Adam nod, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. She knew his mom had been an alcoholic, but all she knew of his dad was that he seldom held down a job for long. Obviously taking care of his family wasn’t that important to the man.

“So who’d like cake?” she asked from the buffet, where she began to cut slices and put them on small plates.

“Wait a sec, Cookie,” her dad said.

With her back to the room, she closed her eyes and winced. She loved that nickname, but hearing it right after she found out she was to be Adam’s boss in what many would consider to be a man’s world . . .

“So, Adam, your dad and Nate had a trailer-load of cattle and got a flat tire. While your dad was fixin’ it”—Doug started to laugh, along with Nate—“the steers seemed to line up and”—he could barely get the words out now—“take turns pissin’ on his head!”

It was a famous story in their house, and Mr. Desantis wasn’t the only one it had ever happened to. But she was watching Adam’s face, and although he forced a smile, it was obvious he had no good feelings for his dad.

Brooke set a plate of cake in front of Doug. “Okay, guys, shut up and eat.”

Her dad was actually wiping away tears. But Sandy was watching her curiously, and Brooke went back to serving the cake.

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Doug said, his voice almost hoarse. “Adam, we’ll feed you lunch every day, so no worries about that. You’ll even have as much steak as you want for cookin’ on your own. Get here at dawn tomorrow and work hard, that’s all I ask. Come over to the business office first thing, and we’ll fill out the papers.”

“Yes, sir,” Adam answered. “Thank you, sir.” He started to eat his cake.

Brooke had to stop looking at him, had to stop caring about his feelings. He might be in a world of hurt the next few days as he adjusted to life on the ranch, and it wasn’t her job to sympathize. Her job was to get a good day’s work out of him.

And stop thinking about him except as an employee.





Chapter Five





Adam got in a run before dawn, then arrived at the Silver Creek Ranch just as the sun crested the mountain peaks. He saw activity at the newer barn closest to the house, lights on inside against the gloom, horses out at pasture. It must be crowded in that barn, with the old one destroyed.

He found the ranch office easy enough, and Mr. Thalberg met him inside and offered coffee, muffins, then paperwork. Nate was already hunched over his computer, and he waved a good morning.

Adam was glad for the chance to work, to not twiddle his thumbs or elude another tarot reading. He loved his grandma, but too much togetherness had made him itch for some freedom. But he couldn’t help gnawing over the fact that the Thalbergs surely hired him out of pity because his grandma had put in a word. He was a vet with no job at the moment, with little ranch training. He would probably be a hindrance more than a help, but he was determined to work as hard as he could to prove to Mr. Thalberg that hiring him had been the right decision.

As for his attraction to Brooke, Adam was going to ignore it. The Marines had taught him honor, and that didn’t include chasing after his employer’s daughter—his boss.

Mr. Thalberg told him to head to the shed, the huge metal building where all the big trucks were stored, and that’s where he found Brooke. She was outside the doors, standing on a ladder, head beneath the hood of a massive flatbed truck already stacked with bales of hay for feeding cattle. Some kind of crane was mounted on the flatbed, with what looked like a giant yellow fork attached, probably for picking up hay. Guess he wouldn’t be riding a horse anytime soon, he thought, a little disappointed.

Brooke was layered up in cold-weather gear, from coveralls to at least a couple jackets, and a thick wool cap on her head. And then there were her high, all-weather boots. He looked at those, then dubiously down at his cowboy boots, already sinking into the winter mud.