Rancher's Choice Read online

  Rancher’s Choice

  By Kylie Brant

  Published by Kylie Brant

  Copyright 2012 by Kylie Brant

  Cover art by Middle Child Marketing, LLC

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  All characters in this book are fictional.

  www.kyliebrant.com

  Chapter 1

  “No way in hell! Absolutely not!” Jackson Lowell Roberts III paced agitatedly around the Circle R ranch office. The contents of his whiskey glass splashed precariously as he pointed it at his brother. “This is the worst possible time to bring another person to the ranch, Jeff, especially a woman.” He spat the last word as he would a curse. “I’ve got enough trouble around here trying to figure out who’s stealing our cattle, without having to fend off unwanted advances or watch over the family silver.”

  The object of Jackson’s wrath sat calmly behind his polished mahogany desk. Being the younger sibling of such a volatile man had given Jeff years of practice at dealing with his temper. “I told you, Jackson. I’m at a place in my book where I need Kalinda Scott’s expertise. She’s going to be kept plenty busy as my research assistant. She won’t upset things—you’ll barely know she’s here.” Jeff raised his eyebrows at his brother’s inelegant snort, but continued firmly, “Kalinda’s credentials are topnotch. You don’t have to get yourself in an uproar about having her stay at the ranch. This woman is different.”

  Jackson ran his hand through his thick dark hair, trying to control his anger. His brother’s naïveté about women was more than just irritating—it was downright dangerous at times. “Just like the last two women you hired to help at the ranch were different?” he asked caustically.

  Jeff had the grace to look somewhat abashed, but quickly defended himself. “How was I supposed to know that Sara Richards had a rap sheet and a string of aliases? You have to admit, she really kept the place organized while she was here.”

  Jackson raised the glass to his lips and downed the contents before crossing to the decanter to pour himself more. “She was only here long enough to case the house and learn the combination of the office safe,” he reminded Jeff tersely. “We were damn lucky she was caught trying to fence Great-Grandmother’s silver, or she’d be halfway across the country by now.” He turned to eye his brother derisively. “You always were a sucker for dimples.”

  Jeff seized the opportunity to embarrass Jackson in return. “And my last secretary was a sucker for big macho cowboys,” Jeff cooed mockingly. “She was just swept away by your strong shoulders and—” He broke off as he ducked the book on cattle breeding his brother hurled across the room at him.

  “Your so-called secretary was more concerned with latching onto a healthy bankroll than with typing for you.” Jackson remembered the erstwhile secretary, Amber Holiday, with irritation. “She had ice in her veins and dollar signs tattooed on her butt.”

  Jeff grinned with huge enjoyment. “You’d know more about that than the rest of us, buddy. I seem to recall coming in here about the time Amber was offering to show you that very portion of her anatomy—among others.”

  Jackson glared narrowly at his brother, remembering that particular scene with distaste. The woman had believed absolutely in her own charms and had been vile-mouthed when Jackson had declined to sample them. “And that’s just how you lost yourself a secretary, when I had to throw Amber and her dollar signs off the ranch. If you think I’m going to go through that again with this new bimbo you want to hire, you need your head examined.”

  Jeff recognized that tone. It usually preceded Jackson’s verbally or physically dismantling the offender, and he was not anxious to tangle with his brother. He quickly changed tactics. “This woman is a professional, Jackson,” he stressed. “Kalinda Scott is a doctoral candidate in cultural anthropology at the University of Arizona. Her knowledge of Native American cultures will give my book the authenticity it needs.”

  “Then find a man to help you.” Jackson’s tone brooked no opposition. “All hell’s breaking loose around here with this rustling going on and we sure don’t have time to hold the hand of some dusty old-maid scholar.”

  “You know how much time I’ve spent trying to find someone right for this position,” Jeff maintained stubbornly. “I’ve talked to department heads at several universities. And—” he paused before bringing out his strongest argument “—Dr. Morehead is Kalinda’s adviser. He recommends her highly.”

  Jackson’s head swiveled as he gazed sharply at Jeff. Professor Allen Morehead had been one of the biggest influences in Jeff’s distinguished postgraduate career at the University of Arizona. It was he who had encouraged Jeff to expand his master’s thesis on the history of New Mexico into a book. The professor had also interested a publisher in the work. Jeff’s first book had been so well received by the academic community that it was already being assigned as required reading in some college courses. Jeff felt he owed a lot to Dr. Morehead, and the two men shared a mutual respect.

  Jackson rubbed his free hand tiredly over his face. He could feel himself losing ground rapidly after this last piece of information, but he gave it one more shot. “I just can’t believe that the only so-called expert you could find had to be a female. Couldn’t Dr. Morehead recommend a man with similar qualifications...”

  Jeff was already shaking his head. “No one who would be free to spend the amount of time in New Mexico that I need someone for. Besides,” he continued doggedly, “I want Kalinda Scott. She lived on a Navaho reservation last summer while she was researching her dissertation. It’s her knowledge and experience I need to help me with my book. Also, I think having another woman around will be good for Carrie. She’s feeling a little confined with the pregnancy and will probably welcome having a woman to talk to.”

  Jackson’s look sharpened as concern for his sister-in-law momentarily took precedence over his argument with Jeff. “She isn’t having more trouble, is she?”

  Jeff hastened to reassure him. “So far, so good, but the doctor wants her to take it very easy with this one. She has to have plenty of rest during the day and no stress.” Carrie had already had two miscarriages, and both her husband and her brother-in-law were willing to do anything to help her avoid that nightmare again.

  Jackson dropped his six-foot-three frame wearily into his oversize chair and leaned back, propping his boots on the large oak library table that served as his desk. “I suppose that having another woman in the house would be nice for Carrie,” he grudgingly admitted. A sudden thought occurred to him. “You aren’t both going to work in here, are you?”

  Jeff shrugged matter-of-factly. “My library is here, as well as my computer and all my notes.”

  Jackson bit off a curse. “It isn’t bad enough that I have to put up with a pushy, greedy female living in our house, you actually expect me to share my office with her?”

  “Our office,” Jeff corrected him mildly. “But don’t worry. We’ll be so busy you won’t bother us.”

  Jackson might have found himself outmaneuvered. He might even reluctantly admit, privately of course, that this Scott person seemed necessary. But he didn’t have to like it, and damned if he would pretend to. “I’m warning you, Jeff,” he threatened darkly, “if this woman causes any problems at all, with me or with the hi
red hands, she’ll be out of here so fast your head’ll spin.”

  Jeff, sensing victory, grinned. “Don’t worry, Jackson,” he quipped, “I won’t let my big bad research assistant harass you. If you want me to, I’ll even chain her to her desk, so she can’t chase you around yours.”

  Jackson scowled. Jeff, ignoring the warning signs in his brother’s cloudy countenance, rose from his desk and strode across the room toward him. “Think of it this way,” he teased, slapping Jackson on the shoulder. “We’ve already experienced the worst with the last two women I hired. The third time is supposed to be the charm.” Jeff dodged the elbow his brother jabbed at him and walked jubilantly from the room.

  Jackson sank farther down in the leather chair and took a healthy swig from his glass. “Yeah,” he muttered morosely, “a real charm.”

  Kalinda Scott moved lithely around the small bedroom in her Tucson apartment, emptying dresser drawers and returning to her bed with the clothes. She stepped nimbly around the fat white Angora cat sprawled lazily in the middle of the floor, but her progress was hampered as she was forced to work around the lump in the middle of her bed—her roommate, Susan.

  “I still don’t understand, Kaly,” Susan complained querulously, “why in heaven’s name you have to bury yourself on a ranch hours away from civilization.”

  Kaly smiled. Susan considered anywhere she was as civilization. And since she was never anywhere that lacked culture, nightlife and an unending supply of men, perhaps by her own definition she was correct.

  “Summer is supposed to be a time to have fun, take a break. Last year you insisted on staying on that isolated reservation, and now this. If you really feel the need to work, surely there’s something on campus that you can do.” Susan shuddered delicately. She had an obvious disdain for gainful employment, which was one reason she was a perpetual student.

  Kaly reminded her, “I do have to work this summer if I want to be able to eat during my last semester of classes. This job will give me the money I need to pay you room and board next semester, and allow me to live in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed.”

  Even Susan had to smile at that. Kaly was frugal out of necessity. Her progress through graduate school had been interrupted periodically as she took time away from her studies to earn enough money to continue paying for classes. These necessary breaks had lengthened the amount of time it took her to complete her doctorate, but while it was frustrating, at least she’d had the satisfaction of knowing she was making her own way.

  Kaly stopped packing as a sudden thought occurred to her. “My leaving this summer isn’t going to put you in a financial bind, is it?”

  Susan waved away her friend’s worry. “If I can’t pay the rent on this dump, I can always call my folks. Which is another thing, Kaly. If you just need money, why don’t you call your mom and dad?”

  Kaly winced inwardly at this reference to her parents, but responded evenly, “I’d never ask them.” As usual, the thought of her family brought mixed emotions to her. Being the only daughter in a family with three older brothers meant that she had never had a lack of people in her life who thought they knew what was best for her. The conflicts had begun when Kaly insisted on playing Little League with her brothers. They had continued ever since.

  Mr. Scott was a police sergeant and expected his family to respond as readily to his orders as the rookies at the precinct did. However, Kaly had rarely been amenable to his directives. She had entered the anthropology program at the University of Arizona in the face of her father’s vehement protests. But if he’d thought that withholding the financial support he had given to her brothers would deter his daughter, he’d been doomed to disappointment. Kaly’s grades had earned her scholarships as an undergraduate, and she had become accustomed to working her way through graduate school. She loved her family, but living half a state away from them had its benefits. Her independent nature invariably clashed with her father’s when they were together for long.

  She turned to fix Susan with a look. “If my parents call before they get my new address,” she ordered sternly, “you’re not to discuss my summer plans with them.”

  Susan looked startled. “What’s the big secret? Aren’t they going to know where you are all summer?”

  Kaly calmly continued packing. “Of course. I explained my plans in my letter. In the meantime, I don’t want to have to deal with a phone call from my dad if he gets the urge to reach out and nag someone.”

  “I wouldn’t blame him for trying to talk you out of this idea. Honestly, a ranch, Kaly!” Susan made it sound as though Kaly was going to travel to the Amazonian jungles.

  Kaly made her way to the closet and returned to dump an armload of clothes on the bed. “I really do need the money, but it’s the experience I’m after,” she informed her friend. “Jeff Roberts is becoming a well-respected historian. I can learn a lot from him. His book is documenting the impact the white man’s arrival had upon the Native American tribes living in the Southwest.” Her voice rose in excitement even as she thought about it.

  She tried to convince her friend, who still looked uncomprehending. “Don’t you see? This job is perfect for me. The research I did last summer on the reservation is just what he needs. Give me a hand with this, will you?” She motioned to the mound of clothes.

  Susan sat up on the bed and began a desultory attempt to sort and fold tops and jeans. She wished mightily she could someday see her roommate get as excited about a man as she did about her work. “I’ll miss you, Kaly,” she said, pouting. “You know what a scatterbrain I am. I’ll probably even forget mealtimes. Who’s going to see that I eat properly while you’re gone?”

  Kaly’s eyes twinkled. “I guess I’ll have to leave that to Charles.” Charles was an accountant and Susan’s new love interest, although Susan’s relationships lasted no longer than her attention span.

  “I’m hopeless in the kitchen. I’ll probably waste away without you to do the cooking,” Susan warned.

  Kaly suppressed a smile. “Charles is used to playing with figures. I’m sure he’ll be glad to watch over yours.”

  Susan sighed at her friend’s lack of concern and flopped back on the bed. “One of us has to keep the men happy around here. And you—” she fixed Kaly with a gimlet stare “—definitely have not been doing your part.”

  Kaly responded as she always did when Susan started harping on her lack of social life—she ignored it. “Have you seen my turquoise blouse?” she inquired as she rummaged through her closet.

  Susan shook her head. “No, and don’t change the subject. It’s not healthy the way you never date. I think you can get some illness from that or something.”

  “A heart disease, no doubt,” murmured Kaly drolly.

  “No, really,” Susan said seriously as she sat up and once again started folding clothes. “You can’t count having coffee once in a while with one of the professors as a social

  Kaly rolled her eyes at her friend’s exaggeration. “I do go out occasionally, she corrected. “I can’t help it if you never approve of my escorts.”

  “Hmph! Those dweebs!” Susan grimaced. “I think you accept dates only on the merit of how likely they are to provide a cure for insomnia.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “No. I pick them for their intelligence, or because we have a lot in common. I can’t help it if your idea of a hot date is a cross between Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds. I like a little substance in my men.”

  Susan sighed. “The guys you date are full of a substance, all right, but I won’t put a name to it. Honestly, Kaly, sometimes I swear you’re a geek magnet.” She looked at her friend soberly. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgot about that rat Philip and started really living again? It’s been years.”

  At the mention of her ex-fiancé, Kaly’s stomach sank. Susan was really on a roll this time. “I certainly am not still hung up on Philip, if that’s what you mean. But he did teach me a valuable lesson about the basic untrustwo
rthiness of the average male. All I want right now is to concentrate on my studies, finish my dissertation and find a job.”

  “You chose Philip mainly because he seemed so different from your father and brothers,” Susan said wisely. “Just because you made one mistake doesn’t mean you should swear off a real relationship with any other man. It’s time you stopped being so darn careful, quit planning every aspect of your life and just let go!”

  Kaly was irritated with Susan’s amateur analysis, but was forced to admit to herself that there was some truth to it. She had thought Philip’s ideas and personality were as far removed from her father’s as possible. They’d both been recipients of academic scholarships in the same program in college and had shared similar interests. They had also, as they grew closer, shared similar goals. At least they had until Philip’s hopes for his future had dimmed. Then Kaly had found out just how little she had really known the man she had planned to marry.

  Others might be able to chalk up such an episode to experience, but Kaly could not forget how close she had come to making a colossal error or how dismal her judgment of men had turned out to be. “I know you view caution as a major character flaw,” she answered her friend dryly, “but it works for me. One disastrous mistake a lifetime is enough. I’ll leave the frantic social scene to you, thanks, anyway.”

  Susan’s face brightened. “Why didn’t I think of it sooner?” she asked excitedly. “This summer might be just the answer to your dull social life. You’re going to be on a ranch with hordes of eligible men!”

  Kaly cast her a quelling look. “Jeff Roberts is married, and quite happily from all accounts,” she said. “Even you have been rumored to have some scruples where married men are concerned. Besides, I’m going to be heavily involved with his manuscript. There won’t be much time for socializing.”

  Susan’s face became mulish. “You can make time for some fun in the next three months, I would think.” She looked thoughtfully at the casual clothes being packed neatly in the suitcase and made a mental note to add to the selection. “Your usual supply of academic dorks won’t be around, so maybe you can expand your horizons a little. There’s sure to be a whole bunch of men on a ranch. Don’t they need cowboys to go on cattle drives or something?”