Home on the Ranch: Her Cowboy Hero Read online

  “That’s Jayden Gillian’s car,” Bren said.

  Leave it to the town sheriff to know who everyone was and what car they drove. Course, the Gillians were Via Del Caballo royalty. Jayden’s dad was some kind of famous professional cowboy. Her uncle, too. Team ropers. National Finals Rodeo champions numerous times. A couple of their boys had followed in their footsteps. One of them had even won the average last year, the money he’d earned pushing him to the top of the standings and his first world championship. Funny, though, Colby had never heard about a daughter.

  “I should probably go meet her,” he said, the car disappearing from sight while she parked in front of the stable area. “She sounded like a handful on the phone.”

  Bren had the most amused expression on his face. “You mean you’ve never been introduced?”

  “Nope.”

  “And she wants a job?”

  “Yup.”

  Bren laughed. “This ought to be interesting.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bren tipped his hat back, and his expression could only be called gleeful. “Only that Jayden Gillian isn’t the type to take no for an answer, so if your plan is to brush her off, you’re in for disappointment.”

  Just as he’d thought. Spoiled little rancher’s daughter. He’d met her type before.

  “I think I can handle her.”

  Bren released something that sounded like a laugh. Colby ignored him and headed for the barn door. Little did Bren know, but he had lots of experience handling willful women. Back in Texas he’d met more than a few, most of them hoping to land the elusive Colby Kotch. Not because they wanted him. Oh, no. They wanted the family fortune. But that was information he’d kept to himself. He’d never told his boss, or anyone in Via Del Caballo, about the family oil business, although it wouldn’t surprise Colby if Jax had unearthed the truth. The man made a living as a military contractor, which meant he probably had ten-page dossiers on all of his employees.

  He heard a car door slam and wanted to head her off at the pass, which was why he rushed toward the entrance. She must have been rushing, too, which would explain why they nearly collided.

  “Whoa there,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You—”

  The word okay died in his throat.

  A pair of the most spectacular blue eyes he’d ever seen had grown wide. Those eyes robbed him of breath in the most bizarre and peculiar way—sort of like he’d been punched in the gut.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said with a smile, her long black hair swinging out behind her. Black brows and super-dark lashes framed those spectacular eyes. “I’m looking for the owner.”

  He couldn’t think clearly.

  “Is he around?” she asked, obviously puzzled by his lack of response. “I think I talked to him on the phone?”

  He realized then that he was still holding her, so he quickly stepped back, suddenly able to breathe once he let her go.

  Holy crap, what had just happened?

  “He told me to come to the barn,” she added, looking around and spotting Bren down the barn aisle.

  “Oh, hey, Sheriff Connelly.”

  She smiled, a big, beautiful grin that made his heart do something weird. It was then and there that Colby realized something. The phrase breathtakingly beautiful had a literal meaning.

  “I’m him,” he managed to gasp out.

  “Him who?”

  “I manage this place. Well, the therapy program, but I oversee pretty much everything else.”

  She eyed him up and down, and he saw doubt on her face, probably because he looked more like a farrier in his dirty jeans, leather apron and dusty white T-shirt, all topped off with a straw cowboy hat.

  “Colby Kotch,” he added.

  “Really.” She aimed her smile in his direction. “Nice to meet you, then, Colby Kotch. I’m Jayden Gillian.”

  He wasn’t so sure it was nice to meet him, not at all. Bren had been right. Nothing would be easy where Jayden Gillian was concerned, and he had a feeling nothing would ever be the same, either.

  Chapter 2

  He didn’t look happy. Jayden tried not to panic. Darn her impulsiveness. She should have just made an appointment.

  “Wow, this place is really something,” she said, hoping to charm him out of his bad mood.

  “Yes, it is,” he said without a change of expression, but the way he drawled his words made her look at him more closely. He sounded like he was from the South.

  “I can’t believe how big it is.”

  They stood in front of a huge covered arena, one two stories high and built out of redwood with large wooden beams that reminded her of the ribs of a ship. She’d never seen anything like it, but on the way to the stables, she’d passed a home just as lavish. And then, a few hundred yards across from where she’d parked, matching single-story cabins. Whoever the owner was, he had to have money, because the arena echoed the home’s architecture with its glass windows and wood exterior. They stood outside, on the short side; huge doors with glass inlaid into the middle had been slid open, revealing a sand arena inside. Posh.

  She took a step back, covered her eyes against the glare of the sun in the cloudless sky. He didn’t say anything as she looked up. There were windows along the walls of the second floor, and so she would bet there were apartments or offices or something up there.

  “Are there stables along the other side of the arena, too?” she asked, pointing to the row of stalls that lined the right side and where he’d been standing a moment before.

  “No, just that one side.” She watched him take a deep breath. “We only need a few really great horses for our program.”

  “And you’re expanding?” she asked, because the redwood cabins she’d passed had looked new. They were set into the side of a hill in the same way as the main estate had been, but on a much smaller scale, and the ground around them looked scarred, as if earth had been freshly moved to make way for them.

  He nodded, and she tried not to get too excited. That must be why they were hiring. And if they were expanding, that meant a chance for advancement, but only if she could convince them to hire her.

  “I’d love a tour.”

  His left brow twitched. “I’m sure the owner would be happy to show you around when everything’s finished.”

  Brushed off. But she was made of sterner stuff than he probably thought. Her father was the king of poker faces. This man would have to work harder to intimidate her.

  “Is it okay if we talk right here, then?” she asked. “Or is there an office or someplace we could meet?”

  She realized then that she’d forgotten her résumé in the car. Darn it.

  “Right here is fine.” He looked down at her empty hands. “Do you have a résumé?”

  Was he a mind reader or something? She hid her dismay behind a face of bravado. “I thought we could chat first.”

  He crossed his arms in front of him, and she had to admit, he didn’t look like a therapist. For a minute she wondered if he was joking, if maybe Sheriff Connelly had convinced his horse farrier friend to pretend to be in charge, but if so, who had answered the phone? Nobody other than him and Bren seemed to be around. Should she wait to see if someone else showed up?

  “Okay, then,” he said in his Southern drawl. “Talk.”

  It was one of those awkward moments when she wondered what to do. She glanced at the sheriff again. He was too far away for her to read his expression.

  “Okay, then.” She tipped her chin up. “My name is Jayden Gillian. I just graduated from UC Santa Barbara with a BA in sports medicine. I plan to go for my master’s next, although it might take me a while to complete that phase of my education since I plan to work full-time.” She debated whether to tell him about Paisley and her daughter’s deadbeat dad, but then decided it was none of his business
. “This past summer I worked as an intern for a rodeo company, where I worked with injured cowboys for three months. I developed exercises that would aid in their recovery. I followed up with them at the next rodeo, and if I thought something wasn’t working, I adjusted their treatment plan.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she grew more and more uncomfortable, and her discomfort wasn’t helped by the fact that whoever he was, he looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of some kind of ad campaign for blue jeans and musclemen T-shirts. He had the biceps of a bodybuilder, or someone who spent far too much time in the gym. Good-looking with his silver eyes, scruffy chin and dark hair. All in all, not her type. She preferred men who were less aware of their own handsomeness. She had a feeling this cowboy knew his effect on women.

  “This is an aide position,” he said. “Sounds like you might be overqualified.”

  Overqualified? This morning she’d been under qualified.

  “Since this would be my first real job after college, I doubt it. I’m looking for experience, maybe even room to grow into a PT position at some point in the future. If you’re really some kind of manager here, then I’m sure you understand.”

  “If?” he asked, lifting his right eyebrow up so high that the brim of his cowboy hat went up, too.

  “Well, you just sort of look...”

  Dang it. She’d blown it again.

  He leaned back, unfolded his arms and rested his hands on his hips, peering down at her like the hero of a comic book cover. All he’d need was a cape and a good gust of wind to blow it around. She squirmed beneath his stare.

  “...like a horseshoer,” she finished.

  “Because I am. Sometimes. We all wear a lot of hats around here—”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  He held up a hand. She obediently lapsed into silence.

  “I’ve been with DHR since we opened our doors. I started out as a ranch manger and physical therapist, but these days I just handle therapy and whatever else they need me to do around here from time to time, including shoeing horses sometimes.”

  Her cheeks began to burn. She wanted to slink back to her car.

  “Second of all, I do understand the importance of getting a foot in the door, and I have no doubt you’d be qualified to—” his eyes swept her up and down “—do whatever it is you do, but the work here is hard. It involves working with horses.”

  “I grew up on a ranch.”

  He ignored her. “And with men more often than not—”

  “So—”

  “Hup, hup.” He shook a finger at her. “Damaged men, and yes, some women, but mostly men, some of them mentally unstable. Not to sound sexist or anything, but many of them won’t want a woman around, especially a pretty young thing like yourself, not when they’re at their worst.”

  Not to sound sexist? That was exactly how he sounded.

  “So if you have a résumé, you can hand it off to me. I appreciate you stopping by. I really do.” He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll hand off your résumé to my boss, but don’t get your hopes up, because I really think he’ll want to find someone who could better relate to our clients, maybe ex-military, probably someone who has medical experience.”

  Don’t get your hopes up?

  If the man had any idea how hard she’d worked to get to where she’d gotten in life, he wouldn’t say that to her. These past two years had been tough on her. It wasn’t just the financial support she’d lost after her big blowout with her dad; it was the emotional side of things, too. She missed family dinners. Missed being able to pop in and see everything without looking over her shoulder for her dad. Darn it, she felt like an intruder when she dropped Paisley off at Gillian Ranch. But she hadn’t let any of that stop her from completing her degree. She would not give up on this, either, especially now that he’d mentioned working with horses.

  “I have a résumé in my car.”

  “Great.”

  Not that he’d look at it. She could tell that he’d dismissed her in the same way some of the older ranchers around here thought a woman couldn’t do a man’s job. Well, she would just see about that. Sometimes it wasn’t what you knew, but who you knew, and she would bet her uncle Bob knew the owner of this place. She just might ask him to make a call on her behalf.

  “Thanks,” he said when she handed off a folder with all her information in it.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” she lied.

  “Same,” he said, holding her gaze.

  She refused to look away, took pride in the fact that he was the one to break eye contact, turning toward Bren and walking away. Behind him, the sheriff met her gaze. Jayden waved goodbye. He tipped his hat and then, of all things, saluted her.

  She saluted him right back.

  * * *

  “That didn’t look like it went as planned,” Bren said with a laugh as, behind him, Jayden’s car started up.

  He shook his head. “You were right. She won’t take no for an answer.”

  The laugh lines on Bren’s face dissolved into contemplation. “Never met a woman as determined as Jayden Gillian. When she sets her mind to do something, she does it.”

  “I’m surprised someone like her even wants to work.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Even I’ve heard of the Gillian family. Seems like a pretty easy life to me.”

  Bren stared at him for a moment, and he caught a glimpse of something in his eyes, something that looked like surprise, and then amusement.

  “Actually, I heard she had a falling-out with her dad. She’s been going it alone for a couple years now.”

  Why did he have a feeling there was more to the story than Bren let on?

  “Anyway, might consider giving her a shot. The Gillians pride themselves on being good at things. I’m sure Jayden is no exception.”

  And so despite his reservations, later that night Colby forced himself to study her résumé. She had a job. Café Express, one of those drive-up shops, a place he’d seen at least a few dozen times on the main drag through town. They sold fancy drinks and pastries and probably paid minimum wage, but she’d worked there enough years that she must have gone to school at the same time. She’d had other jobs, too, during her high school years, he figured, working backward and guessing her age. Definitely not the résumé of someone who lived off family money. Maybe Bren had been right. Maybe she wasn’t the spoiled rancher’s daughter he’d pegged her to be. She probably knew a thing or two about horses, too. That was a definite plus. As much as he hated to admit it, he doubted they’d find someone as well qualified as Jayden.

  In the end, though, he wasn’t given a choice about whether or not she’d be suitable for the job. Not long after he set her résumé down, his boss sent him a text message. It was short and to the point.

  I hear Jayden Gillian wants a job. Tell her she can start on Monday.

  He stared at the message for a long time. Forced to work with her.

  He could hardly wait.

  Chapter 3

  First day at a new job. Jayden thought she might vomit. It didn’t help that Paisley had completely melted down when she’d dropped her off at her aunt’s, her soft blue eyes pleading with her not to leave, tears tracking down her cheeks. It would only get worse as time went on, which made her wish for the millionth time that Levi played a bigger role in his daughter’s life. The man just couldn’t be counted on. If she planned on working toward her master’s, she better hope she could save up some money thanks to her new job. She couldn’t burden Aunt Crystal any more than she already did. She wasn’t getting any younger...

  Stop.

  One thing at a time, though it was hard not to think about what-ifs. If Levi had been half the man she’d thought she’d married, life would have been so much different. Instead, he’d taken off the
moment he’d realized marrying a Gillian didn’t mean a free ride. Perish the thought—her dad had expected him to earn his keep. At least he’d signed the divorce papers. Things could be worse.

  Her pep talk didn’t help allay her fears. When she punched in the code to the gate, her fingers shook. It was early, the sun touching the tips of a dew-soaked lawn so that the grass sparkled as she drove by. She could tell that somewhere off in the distance a hay field had just been cut. It smelled like green tea, or freshly cut alfalfa, one of her most favorite smells in the world. It would be warm later on, something she’d considered when she’d pulled on jeans and a light-blue button-down. Nothing fancy. She had a feeling Colby wouldn’t approve of rhinestone-encrusted jeans, and just why she cared so much what he thought was beyond her. The man could go fly a kite, for all she cared.

  She had to take a moment to compose herself in her car when she parked outside the arena, but not too long because she would bet the man watched her somehow. When she stepped into the cool morning air, she took a deep breath, hoping against hope she wouldn’t have to deal with Colby at all. Her uncle Bob had spoken to the ranch owner, Jax Stone. Maybe he’d be the one to greet her.

  Nobody greeted her.

  The place seemed deserted, only the horses quietly munching on hay in their stalls stirring. She hadn’t been told where to go, just to show up at 8:00 a.m.

  So now what?

  The sound of hooves on the driveway caught her attention. She turned back toward the entrance just in time to see Colby ride up on a horse, all John Wayne in his white button-down shirt with a crimson wild rag around his throat and a straw hat that rode low on his brow.

  “Howdy, partner,” she heard herself say, only to wince inwardly because he probably thought she was mimicking his accent or something.

  “You’re on time.”

  She waited for him to add something like “Thanks” or “That’s great,” but instead he sat in the saddle staring down at her. That was when she noticed he held a lead line, and that he led a horse alongside him, a sorrel with a white blaze.