The Rancher Who Took Her In
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Teresa Southwick
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Chapter One
It wasn’t often a woman walked into the Grizzly Bear Diner wearing a strapless wedding dress and four-inch satin heels.
If Cabot Dixon wasn’t seeing it for himself, he’d have heard pretty quick because people in Blackwater Lake, Montana, talked and this was something to talk about. The bride had parked a beat-up truck out front and she was a looker. The woman, not the truck. From his seat at the diner counter he had a view of Main Street and had watched her lift the floor-length cream satin skirt in one hand, probably to avoid tripping because it was way too late to keep it from getting dirty. Then she marched inside, as opposed to down the aisle.
He was sitting on a swivel stool, and she slid between the two beside him to talk with Michelle Crawford, the diner’s owner, who was openly staring.
“I’m here about the Help Wanted sign in your window.”
The bride was even prettier up close, with light brown, blond-streaked hair and a figure that could back up traffic for miles. And that wasn’t all. Her voice had the barest hint of huskiness that could stop a man’s beating heart for a second or two.
There were a few customers in the diner and everyone continued to stare when the newcomer added, “I could use a job.”
“Okay.” Michelle slipped him a help-me-out expression, obviously wondering if he would jump in, considering he was the one looking to hire.
When he’d put the Help Wanted sign in the diner window, she’d promised to run interference and weed out the applicants who weren’t really serious so he didn’t have to come all the way into town from the ranch every five minutes. Frankly, he was looking forward to seeing Michelle handle this one on her own. Because there was no groom in sight, the lady clearly was a runner. It would appear that, unlike his ex-wife, she’d cut out before taking vows and getting pregnant.
Cabot glanced at her flat belly in the tight, unforgiving, dropped-waist gown that wouldn’t hide even an extra ounce of fat, let alone a bump. He couldn’t swear there was no baby on board, but it didn’t look likely. Her bare arms were super toned and she had great shoulders, slender but strong. She was a little lacking in the chest department, but her cute nose and even better mouth made up for it.
The bride rested her palms on the red Formica counter. “I’ve never waitressed before, but I’m a fast learner and a hard worker—”
Michelle held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. I’m not hiring, just handling the interviews for the rancher who is.” She glanced at him. “The ranch is about ten miles outside Blackwater Lake.”
“I see.” The woman looked momentarily thrown, and then she nodded. “I admit I didn’t read anything on the poster after the help wanted part and that doesn’t speak well about my attention to detail. But I’m a bit distracted just now.”
Cabot figured that was the truth. The wedding dress was a big clue.
“Well—” Michelle gave him another jump-in-anytime look. “The job is for a summer camp counselor. The owner runs a program for kids at his ranch, and duties include activities, sports and whatever else comes up. General pitching in as needed.”
“I can handle that,” the bride said. “I love kids.”
“I’m not sure you’re what he had in mind.”
“Who?”
“The rancher who’s looking to hire,” Michelle responded. “You’re probably overqualified.”
“I just want to work.” Cabot saw something vulnerable and fragile in her expression. “These days a lot of people are taking jobs they’re overqualified for and happy to have them.”
She was right about that, he thought. Although the job he needed to fill was more suited to a young college kid or recent graduate, he’d posted the sign in the diner window later than he usually did. Camp was starting soon and most people who wanted summer work had already lined something up. That meant he couldn’t afford to be as picky as usual.
Michelle folded her arms over her chest and looked the woman up and down. “Even your average employee doesn’t go formal to apply for work.”
“So you noticed the wedding dress.” The bride’s tone was deliberately casual, as if she always showed up for a job interview in a long white gown. “I guess I stand out like a fly in milk.”
“Pretty much,” Michelle agreed.
The woman was plucky, Cabot thought. He’d give her that. Taking a sip of cold coffee, he listened intently, interested to hear what she had to say.
“The truth is, I ran out on my wedding.”
“Really? Could have fooled me.” Cabot knew he should have stayed out of this conversation but just couldn’t resist. “So you broke some poor guy’s heart.”
She met his gaze and took his measure. “And you are?”
“Cabot Dixon. Couldn’t help overhearing. So, why did you run?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s a lying, cheating, scumbag weasel dog.”
“That sounds bad,” he said. “But I have to ask—couldn’t you have said something to him before he showed up for the wedding?”
“Probably I should have. My sister warned me, told me he hit on her, but I was stubborn and didn’t believe. Then I caught him kissing one of my bridesmaids at the church. It seemed like an excellent time to let him know the marriage probably wasn’t going to work out.” She clenched her teeth and a muscle jerked in her delicate jaw. “I hate it when my sister is right.”
“Jerk,” Michelle said, the single word dripping with disgust.
Cabot had to agree.
“I gave him back the ring with a fervent wish that he’d choke on it, but dealing with the rest just then was—” The bride sighed and the movement did amazing things to a chest that suddenly didn’t seem so lacking. “I grabbed the truck keys and left. Drove all night and this looked like as good a place as any to stop.”
“It is a good place, honey.” Michelle patted her hand and gave him a glance that begged him to take over.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Katrina Scott. Kate.” She glanced between him and Michelle. “Why do you keep looking at this guy?”
“I keep looking at this man because he’s Cabot Dixon, the rancher who put the Help Wanted poster in my window. Take over anytime.” Michelle settled a hand on her hip and met his gaze. “In my humble opinion, Kate is just your type.” To the bride she added, “He’s a sucker for hard-luck cases.”
“I know you mean that in the nicest possible way,” he said to Michelle.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” She smiled at the bride and said, “My work here is done. By the way, I’m Michelle Crawford. It’s nice to meet you, Kate. Welcome to Blackwater Lake, Montana.”
“Thanks.” After the other woman left, Kate turned to him. “You could have said something about being the rancher in question before I spilled my guts.”
“You were on a roll,” he said.
“Just so we’re clear, I’m not a hard-luck case. And I don’t suppose there’s a chance that you could overlook or forget everything I just said?”
“Probably not.”
“I didn’t think so.” She sighed.
“So Katrina. Like the hurricane.”
“I came first and I’m pretty sure my parents named me after a Viking queen or at the very least a Swedish princess.”
He laughed. She was quick-witted. He liked that. But Michelle was probably right about her being overqualified. He would guess her to be in her late twenties and likely on a career path that had been interrupted by running out on her wedding. Although by the looks of the ancient truck out front, she didn’t have much money.
“Nice dress.”
“Thanks. I plan to burn it.” She smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip.
The gesture drew his attention and suddenly his mouth went dry. This was a pretty strong reaction and he didn’t much trust the feeling, but there was no reason to read anything complicated into it. He was a guy and she was a pretty woman. That was all. But she was looking to work for him and he was looking for a reason to turn her down.
“You need a job.”
“It would help me out.”
She had pride. He understood and respected that.
Cabot pushed his empty plate and coffee cup away. “Like Michelle said, it’s really a nowhere job.”
“Just where I want to be.”
“The kids’ activities include sports—basketball, baseball, soccer.”
“I’m athletic.” He noted conviction in her voice, not so much in her expression.
He couldn’t tell about athletic, but she looked as if she was in great shape. “I’m offering minimum wage, and that’s not much more than gas money for a college kid who’s willing to work.”
“I’m obviously not a college student but definitely not afraid of hard work. And money buys gas whether you’re in school or not,” she said. “I’m sensing hesitation on your part and just want to say that you’re not seeing me at my best right now.”
He had to disagree with her on that. What he saw was pretty darn nice, although she did look tired. She had dark circles under her eyes. Green eyes, he noted. Beautiful, big green eyes.
“When was the wedding supposed to be?” he asked.
“Yesterday.”
The skirt of her dress had deep creases, as if she’d been sitting for a long time. Behind the wheel of a crappy old truck.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“I didn’t.”
He’d guess she was running on fumes. “Do you have a place to stay here in Blackwater Lake?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe you could recommend something.”
Glancing out the window, he assessed her ride. The paint was old and chipped, and rust showed through in some places. It had seen better days. He figured she probably couldn’t afford to pay for a room.
“Blackwater Lake Lodge is the only place in town, but it’s expensive.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be all right.”
Again, that was probably pride talking. Sleeping in the truck wasn’t a good idea, but she likely had no other choice. She was here without a lot of options. And somehow he felt she was now his problem, which he didn’t like even a little bit. Bottom line was the camp needed an extra pair of hands and the duties weren’t rocket science. He couldn’t afford to be too choosy.
He stood up. “The job comes with room and board. Meals included.”
She blinked those big green eyes at him. “Are you hiring me?”
“Subject to approval by Caroline Daly. She manages the camp for me and also does the cooking.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
He didn’t, either. If anyone had told him he’d be hiring a runaway bride that day, crazy would have been the first word that came to mind.
The thought made him irritable. “Do you want the job or not?”
“I want it.”
He looked at the dress then met her gaze. “Do you have anything else to wear?”
“No.”
“You’ll need stuff. I can give you an advance—”
“That’s okay. I can handle it.”
“Okay.” He wasn’t going to argue. “Michelle can tell you where the discount store is and give you directions to the ranch. Like she said, it’s about ten miles outside of town. When you’ve got what you need, meet me there.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dixon.”
“It’s Cabot.” He looked at his watch and shook his head. If he didn’t leave now he’d be late picking Tyler up from school. “I have to go.”
“Okay.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Cabot. I promise you won’t regret this decision.”
Time would tell. He shook her hand and the electricity that shot up his arm made him regret not letting Michelle handle the interview solo. But the diner owner was pretty close to dead on about one thing. He was a sucker for hard-luck cases. At least he wasn’t a romantic sucker anymore.
When a wife walked out on her husband and infant son, it tended to crush the romance out of a man.
* * *
A few hours later, as Kate Scott was driving to the ranch, she figured a rush of adrenaline was the only explanation for the fact that she hadn’t passed out and run off the road into a ditch. She’d never been this tired in her life. As an athlete she was trained to eat well, get enough sleep and take care of her body. In the past twenty-four hours she’d done none of the above. Candy bars and coffee were nothing more than survival snacks. That was what happened when you drove from Southern California to Montana in nineteen hours.
But the adrenaline rush in the diner had been unexpected. It had a lot to do with Cabot Dixon, she thought as she drove Angelica, her brother’s ancient truck, through his gates and beneath a sign that announced Dixon Ranch and Summer Camp.
Serenity was the first thing she noticed. It was all about rolling green meadows crisscrossed by a white picket fence. Majestic mountains stood like sentinels in the distance. As the truck continued slowly up the long drive, she passed a huge house. It looked a lot like a really big wooden cabin with dormers and a double-door front entry. The kind of place Architectural Digest would have on the cover for an article about mountain homes for the wealthy.
Following the instructions Michelle Crawford had given her, Kate drove past a real working barn, then a smaller barnlike building with a large patio and scattered picnic tables. That must be where camp meals were served. Beyond that were six spacious cabins. Michelle had told her the first five housed campers and senior counselors, and the last one, a much smaller cabin, would be where she’d stay for the summer. If she got the cook’s approval for the assistant-counselor position.
She parked by cabin number six and turned off the truck’s ignition before blowing out a long breath. What a relief to just be still. It felt weird. Not good; not bad. Just...strange. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t had a million things going on at once. Training, practice, competition and product endorsements made for twenty-hour workdays. Now she had...nothing.
Sliding out of the truck, she noticed a little boy running toward her. Oh, to have that much energy, she thought.
The dark-haired, dark-eyed kid skidded to a stop in front of her. He looked about seven or eight. “Hi. I’m Tyler, but most people call me Ty. Not my teacher, though. She believes in calling kids by their given name.”
“I’m Kate Scott. Nice to meet you, Ty.” His features and the intensity stamped on them were familiar. “I bet your last name is Dixon.”
“It is.” His long-lashed eyes grew bigger, as if she’d read his mind. “How’d you know?”
“You look like your dad.”
“That’s what folks say.”
And when he grew up, he’d probably be just as drop-dead gorgeous as his father. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Cabot Dixon was one fine-looking man, which had probably sparked the unexpected blast of adrenaline at the diner. She hadn’t been too tired to notice that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
She’d felt only a little shame about the spurt of gladness following the observation. Shame because mere hours ago she’d been on the verge of getting married and now she was scoping out commitment symbols, or lack thereof, on the handsome rancher. It felt wrong to ask this little boy about his mother, so she didn’t.
She looked around and saw the lake just past a grassy area beyond the cabins. “This is a nice place you’ve got here, Ty.”
“It’s not mine. It’s my dad’s.” His expression was solemn, as if he’d been taught to tell only the absolute truth. “He told me to come down and let you know he and Caroline will be here in a few minutes.” The boy thought for a moment, as if trying to remember something, and then his expression changed. “Oh, yeah. And I’m s’posed to welcome you to the ranch.”
“Thanks. That’s very sweet of you. I’m here for the camp-counselor job—to do whatever I’m told to do, which could be dishes. And I’m fine with that.”
Ty nodded sympathetically. “I have to do that all the time.”
“Even grown-ups have to follow orders.”
“Not my dad.” She heard pride in his voice. “He gives ’em.”
“I guess you can do that when you’re the boss,” she agreed. “I appreciate the welcome. Thanks.”
Thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “My dad would say that’s just the way it is here in Blackwater Lake.”
For a second Kate felt as if she’d ridden a twister to the land of Oz. This was a place where folks made a person feel welcome because it was just a small town’s way. That was unbelievably refreshing.
“Well, a stranger like me thinks it’s pretty cool to get a friendly welcome.”
“Where are you from?” He looked up, and a ray of sunshine slicing through the tree leaves made him squint one eye closed.
“I’ve been all over.”
That was vague but still the truth. She trained wherever there were facilities for skeet shooting. Then there were competitions all over the country, all over the world, not to mention the Olympics. Winning had opened the door to lucrative product-endorsement deals, and fitting in those location shoots with everything else was stressful and challenging.
Ted, her too-good-looking-for-his-own-good manager and weasel-dog ex-fiancé, had pushed hard to get it all in and now she knew why. Marrying her would have punched his meal ticket for life. The sleazy jerk had been using her. She’d been stupid to accept his proposal and move forward with wedding plans, but at least her instinctive judgment about the man had been right on target. She’d never once been swept off her feet when she kissed him.
“My dad said you’re pretty.” The kid was staring at her, obviously trying to decide for himself if it was true.
“He did?”
Ty nodded uncertainly. “Caroline asked if you were as pretty as Michelle said. That’s Mrs. Crawford. She owns the Grizzly Bear Diner.”
“I met her.” And obviously word about the weirdo in the wedding dress was spreading. “Your dad said I’m pretty?”
He thought about that. “He just said ‘yes’ when Caroline asked if you were as pretty as Mrs. Crawford said.”
That was something, anyway. Kate would have figured if he thought anything at all, it was mostly questioning her sanity for asking for a job while dressed for her own wedding.
“That was very nice of your dad. Thank you for telling me, Ty.”
“It’s the truth. My dad says you should always tell the truth. People get hurt when you don’t.”
She was curious about the moral and personal lesson that was in there somewhere. Maybe she’d find out, and maybe she wouldn’t. And maybe she was better off not wondering about it at all.
“Here comes my dad and Caroline.” He pointed, then raced back down the road to meet them.
Kate watched the man stoop down to his son’s level and put a big hand on the small, thin shoulder. He smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy’s dark hair before Ty continued running toward the house. One picture was worth a thousand words, and the one she’d just seen said Cabot Dixon loved his boy a lot.
She waited and watched the two adults walk toward her. Now that she’d seen the ranch, something about it pulled at her, and she wanted very much to stay for a little while. It wasn’t hiding out, she assured herself. Just taking a much-needed break.
Kate had always thought she was different from other women, so it was surprising to realize that she was having a clichéd reaction as Cabot approached. She found something inherently sexy about a tall, well-built man in worn jeans, white long-sleeved cotton shirt, boots and a black cowboy hat. What was it about a cowboy? He stopped in front of her and again she could feel adrenaline obliterating her exhaustion.
A quirk turned up one corner of his mouth. “I sort of miss the dress.”
“It’s carefully packed away.”
“I thought you were going to burn it.”
“Something to look forward to.” Kate glanced down at the new sneakers, jeans and red scoop-necked T-shirt she’d purchased at the big discount retail store in Blackwater Lake. “This is more practical. And comfortable.”
“Amen to that.” Caroline looked to be somewhere in her fifties. She was tall with stylishly cut and discreetly streaked blond hair.
“Kate, this is Caroline Daly.” Cabot looked from her to the other woman. “Caroline, meet Kate Scott, Blackwater Lake’s own runaway bride.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Caroline held out her hand.
Kate gave it a firm squeeze. “Very nice to meet you. And, just so you know, I had my reasons for leaving that toad at the altar.”
“Cabot told me.” Sympathy brimmed in her blue eyes. “He also said you need a job.”
That wasn’t technically accurate, but she did need to keep busy. She didn’t know any other way to be. “I could use work.”
“Have you ever been involved with kids?”
She’d mentored some of the girls in her sport and roomed at the Olympics with a younger archery competitor, but she had never coached. Then Ty’s words echoed in her mind. My dad says you should always tell the truth. People get hurt when you don’t.
“I’ve never worked with kids. But I was one once,” she said hopefully.
“Funny how that happens,” Cabot said wryly. “I don’t know what I’d do without Caroline. Not only is she a good cook and outstanding camp manager, she’s great with kids. Probably has something to do with being Blackwater Lake High School’s favorite English teacher and girls’ basketball coach.”
“Wow. That must keep you busy.” Kate had had tutors in high school and had never attended traditional classes with other kids. Sacrifices were required at the level she competed and she’d never regretted it. Not until she found Ted kissing another woman on the day of their wedding and realized he’d been playing her for a fool.
Caroline waved a hand as if it was nothing. “I like to be busy. I like to cook. Mostly I like the kids, and being around them keeps a person young.”
“So that’s your secret to looking so youthful,” Cabot teased.
Kate tapped her lip and studied the older woman. “Not a secret so much as embracing an attitude. In addition, I think you just have some good genes, the kind of DNA that makes forty the new thirty.”
Caroline grinned. “You’re just saying that so I’ll give Cabot the okay to hire you.”
“Busted.” Kate shrugged. “But seriously, you look timeless.”
Caroline seemed pleased at the compliment. “If I were you, Cabot, I’d hire this young woman. Now I’ve got to get home and fix dinner for my husband. We own the sporting-goods store in town,” she added. “Food has to be on the table at a certain time so someone at the store can cover for him.”
“I see.” And if her husband looked through the outdoor magazines that were probably displayed at the checkout counter, there was a good chance he’d seen her picture in an ad for camping and outdoor equipment.
“’Bye, Caroline. See you next week when the kids get here,” Cabot said, watching her walk down the dirt road to her car parked in front of his house.
When he looked back at her Kate asked, “So, what’s the verdict?”
He reached in his jeans pocket, pulled out a brass key that probably unlocked cabin number six and handed it over. “I’m willing to give you a chance.”
“Thanks.” Relief swept through her and took the last of her energy with it. Suddenly she was so tired she could hardly stand. Not even close proximity to this handsome hunk of cowboy could generate enough adrenaline to hold back a yawn. She shook it off and said, “Sorry. That’s not what I usually do at an interview.”
“The first part was bizarre enough, what with the dress. And now it’s technically over since you got the job.” Sympathy softened his dark eyes before he shook it off. “Caroline’s a good judge of character.”
“And you’re not?”
His mouth pulled tight for just a moment. “I wanted her opinion since she has to work with you. I just sign your paycheck.”
A dozen questions raced through her mind, but the one she really wanted to ask was Does that mean I’ll never see you? The deep disappointment generated by that thought was bewildering; she’d spent barely ten minutes in this man’s presence.
“I like her,” Kate said. “Caroline.”
“Me, too. A lot. So don’t make me regret giving you the job.” He turned and started walking away. Over his shoulder he said, “Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
A shiver skipped over her as she stared at his broad shoulders. They tapered to a trim waist and a backside that would earn ten out of ten points from any female judge. But she’d learned her lesson about looks being shallow and superficial. She didn’t know Cabot Dixon from a rock. It was entirely possible that he used women and threw them away. Just like the man she’d almost married.
Still, the attraction was just strong enough to make her hope that when the summer was over she didn’t regret taking this job.
