Finding Joy (Love's Compass Book 5) Read online

  “If you’ll follow me.” Parker escorted her through the house and to the front door again. “I’ll meet you over there.” With a tilt of his head, he turned and walked away.

  Chelsea’s chest tightened as one worry chased another in her mind. First thing’s first: She had to find her way to the barn and hope she didn’t get lost along the way.

  ~

  Parker had argued with his mom several times about hiring someone to take over coordinating everything on the ranch. He had it covered and, quite frankly, didn’t want one more person to deal with. He should’ve known Mom would disregard that and hire someone anyway. He’d only been back from visiting the kids at the hospital twenty minutes when he got the call from her to come and show the new employee around. When he walked into the room, the last person he expected to see was the woman with the frou-frou tea from the gas station.

  He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed or amused. What were the odds? Judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t at all happy to run into him. He caught her examining the side of his face again. Yeah, they were obvious. But some hint of decorum would be nice. You don’t stare at someone’s injuries, no matter how hideous they might be. He was glad he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. At least she couldn’t ogle the scars on his arms, too.

  With any luck, she’d get lost trying to find the barn and decide the job wasn’t worth it to her. Meanwhile, it’d give him the time he needed to gain some semblance of control over his emotions.

  He dealt with many people that judged him by the scars. Why did this woman doing the same irk him so much more?

  It took Chelsea almost fifteen minutes to pull up in front of the barn. By then, he was leaning against the outside wall, waiting for her.

  She was wearing the same clothes she had on at the convenience store. The black dress pants had somehow made it through the drive without a crease in them. Her blouse — some black and white floral print — fit her perfectly, hugging and flowing in all the right places. Black dress shoes finished the outfit. And every aspect of it was completely inappropriate for working at a ranch, though he was certain it had impressed Mom.

  Chelsea’s dark blonde hair was loose, flowing to the middle of her back. Strands along the side curled slightly and blew in the wind as she walked. She’d brought a heavy jacket with her and she pulled it on, holding it together in front of her.

  She was a beautiful woman. In his old life, he’d have flirted with her, complimenting her on how her green eyes reminded him of fresh grass after a summer rain. He wasn’t that man anymore. He straightened, ready to take anything she dished out. It was the flash of something akin to worry that stopped him. Maybe she wasn’t as self-assured as she came off. Good. That should make it easier to get her to quit.

  They stared at each other as if it were some kind of showdown. Parker shoved his hands into his pockets. “It took twenty minutes to wash the tea off my dog’s feet.”

  Chelsea sighed, momentarily closing her eyes. “I’m sorry. This is my first day at work, so getting my shoes wet was an inconvenience for me, too.” She lifted one foot and held it out toward him. A few dried drops of tea were barely visible. “It wasn’t like I set out to ruin your day.”

  “It’s too late for that,” he mumbled under his breath. A slight exaggeration, but still.

  “Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow and planted her hands on her hips.

  “Enough of that. There’s work to do.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he wasn’t sure she believed his change of phrase. Finally, she waved at her car behind her. “Is where I parked okay?”

  “Yes, that’ll be fine.” He nodded toward her shoes. “It can get a little muddy around here. I suggest more common-sense footwear from now on.”

  “I didn’t think I’d be interacting with the livestock at all.” Her green eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard.

  Was she nervous around animals? Perfect. “We all pitch in and help where needed. While working with the livestock may not be your primary job, you need to be prepared.” He enjoyed watching her squirm a little.

  She kicked gently at a rock and nodded. “Okay.” Her head turned to take in the longhorns grazing in the field in the distance, and she shifted her weight as though she were nervous.

  She peered up at the red barn behind him. He could understand her awe. Dad had spared no expense when he designed the place. Photos of it were included in the Kitner annual Christmas cards pack that the city’s information center sold every year.

  “Let me show you around. Please remember that you’re to have nothing to do with the animals unless specifically asked.”

  “No problem.”

  Was that relief on her face? He stepped to the side and motioned for her to go inside before him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. “Here on the ground floor are the stables for our horses. We have five of them. The stock room is here and the field closest to the barn is our small herd of Texas longhorns. We have another barn on the other side of the property dedicated to the Angus cattle we raise for beef.”

  Remembering how much Dad loved those longhorns was painful. There was no way he could avoid them and he’d seen them multiple times since he’d moved back home. But he had gotten no closer to them than the barn. Couldn’t make himself. There were too many memories. He refused to go into too many details for Chelsea and led the way to the staircase that ushered them upstairs.

  Parker had an office up here though he didn’t use it, preferring to take his laptop to his room. He opened the door to the other space dedicated to maintaining the ranch activities. Normally, it might have been dusty for the lack of use. But he knew well enough that Mom would have made sure it was cleaned and waiting.

  He was right. The light illuminated a spacious room with a desk, laptop, small fridge, microwave, and a set of windows that looked out over the pasture behind the barn. “This is your office. You’re welcome to take the laptop home if you need to, but please remember that it belongs to the ranch. We’d prefer that you not install games or any other personal programs on it.”

  “Do I look like a gamer to you?” The moment the words were out, she pressed her lips together. Her cheeks turned pink as if she couldn’t believe she’d spoken the words aloud.

  Parker stopped and studied her face. She blushed easily. The combination of color in her cheeks and those big, green eyes… His pulse picked up tempo.

  “No, you don’t.” Parker tried to imagine what she did for fun, but he squashed the thoughts almost immediately. It didn’t matter what she enjoyed doing. She wouldn’t last long enough here at the ranch for him to find out. With her back straight as a rod and those shoulders squared, he doubted she could appear more serious. “I hope you’re familiar with keeping track of contacts, using Excel and Word, and accessing a database.” He already knew the answer to that question. Mom wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t.

  “I am.”

  “Good. Set your stuff down, and I’ll show you how we have everything organized.”

  For the next hour, he showed her the database of all the employees, explained how the daily schedule worked, and went through the duties they expected her to fulfill. Even as he talked, his mind was going over different situations that might help convince her to quit her job. The sooner he didn’t have to deal with her, the better.

  He was close enough to her that a section of her hair brushed his cheek. He took a quick step back to put space between him and the soft tendrils. “It’s half past eleven. You get an hour for lunch. If you need more than the fridge or the microwave, let us know.”

  Chelsea’s green eyes bore right into him. “This will be fine.”

  “Good. We have a shipment of cattle coming in this afternoon. The company knows to come by here first so someone can sign off on them. I’ll meet you here and show you how that works. Be ready at two o’clock sharp.”

  “Understood.”

  He suppressed a grin. If she lasted longer than two days working at the
ranch, he’d be shocked. He had to check and make sure preparations had been finished for the new delivery. But mostly, he needed to escape the room that now smelled like a mixture of sunshine and honeysuckle.

  Chapter Three

  Chelsea closed her eyes, willing herself to stay in control. She refused to let the disgust she was experiencing show. It wasn’t directed at the cattle being unloaded into the pen or any of the men working with them. It was entirely because of the mud she was standing in. There was nowhere to go where the ground wasn’t mushy after all the rain that had pelted the area the day before. She shifted her position; the mud coming up over the edges of her dress shoes to squish between her toes. The pantyhose may as well not be there for all the good it was doing. A shudder traveled up her spine. All she wanted right now was a long, hot bath. And she wouldn’t say no to some chocolate. At least the temperature had warmed into the high fifties, so there was that.

  She forced her attention on the activity in the pen as some of the ranch hands managed the cattle. She’d expected Parker to direct from the sidelines. Instead, he’d gotten right into the pen, oblivious to the mud splattering random designs halfway up his boots. He dodged the horns of one of the cows and directed it into the pen. His biceps bulged beneath the long-sleeved shirt he wore. He was clearly no stranger to hard work. Somehow, that surprised her.

  When she’d run into him at the convenience store, she pictured him as one of those guys who bummed around all day nursing a beer. But here, watching him work, he seemed to know what he was doing. How often did the son of a wealthy woman like Mrs. Wilson work his own ranch?

  If her parents had owned a place like this, you could bet they’d hire enough people so they didn’t have to step a toenail in the mud. The thought of her mother standing where Chelsea was now lifted the corners of her mouth. Mom wouldn’t have been caught dead out here, and if she did, Dad probably would’ve had to carry her back out again.

  She tried to remind herself that some people paid good money to soak their feet in mud. She was getting that for free. Nope, it didn’t help.

  She caught Parker observing her, his eyes narrowing. What was he thinking about? Was he upset about the spilled tea this morning? Annoyed that she was working there at all? It was probably a toss-up.

  Chelsea averted her gaze and focused on one particular cow that refused to cooperate. It tossed its head back and forth, shying away from a ranch hand. Its long horns hit the metal railing with a loud thunk.

  Chelsea had seen longhorns before, driving past ranches on her way to somewhere else. She knew they were large animals. But being there, a short distance from them, it was clear how powerful they really were. A new respect for the cattle — and the men working them — grew. That respect almost included Parker. Almost.

  Parker turned and caught her eyes again. With an expert sidestep to avoid the horns and a firm shove of his arms, he directed the last reluctant cow through the gate before striding toward Chelsea. “That’s the last one. It’s a particularly good lot.” Pride tinged his voice, but there was something else in his eyes. Sadness? Uncertainty? It was gone as fast as it had appeared.

  “Are all five males?” Chelsea almost hadn’t voiced the question. But if she was going to be working here, she wanted to know what she was talking about.

  He paused as if he expected her to retract the question. “These are all females. Yearling heifers. We brought them in as an addition to our breeding stock.”

  “I didn’t realize they had horns, too. I thought only males had them.”

  “No. You’re thinking antlers, like you see in deer and elk. In cattle, males and females both have horns. In some breeds, the horns are removed at a young age, especially from heifers. We don’t do that here with the longhorns.” His eyes traveled over the new additions to the herd. “Texas longhorns wouldn’t be the same without their horns.”

  Chelsea had to agree with him there. Whether she liked animals or not, these were magnificent to watch. From a distance. “And why are they called yearling heifers?”

  The additional question seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked at her. “It’s actually somewhat complicated. When a female is born, she’s called a heifer calf and then, at a year old, she’s considered a yearling heifer. After having her first calf, she’s called a first time heifer. After her second calf, she’s considered a cow from that point on.”

  “Seriously?” That was unnecessary. Call them all cows. Everyone knows what a cow is. “Is it just as convoluted for the males?”

  “Almost. When he’s born, he’s considered a bull calf. Once he’s a year old, he’s a bull. If the bull is castrated, he becomes a steer.”

  Chelsea winced when he said the word “castrate”. But who could blame her? Considering Parker was a man, he should’ve winced himself.

  “Since you’ve never worked a ranch before, I don’t want you out here with the animals unless someone else is with you.” His voice had almost been normal when he answered her questions before. Now it was gruff again, as though it annoyed him to be standing here with her at all.

  “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that.” The cattle quieted down and were busy checking out the hay that had been forked into the pen. Other questions came to mind. Chelsea considered waiting and looking them up online. Maybe if she showed interest, he wouldn’t think as badly of her. It was worth a shot, especially if it helped her keep the job. “So, will most of the cows bred here be eaten?”

  “We raise Angus for beef and that’s what makes up the majority of the stock. We only have thirty head of longhorn. Well, thirty-five now. We process some of them, but most are bred, and the calves sold to other ranchers across the United States or for use on the rodeo circuit.” He shifted his weight, resting one of his muddy cowboy boots on the lower rung of the pen. He took his leather gloves off and let his arm lay against his raised knee. “We have several award-winning bloodlines and a waiting list a mile long for the offspring that result.”

  If there was such a long list, she could imagine people must pay a pretty penny to purchase them. And if the longhorns were only more of a side business, it was no wonder the ranch was so successful.

  His gaze traveled down to her feet. “You know the practical footwear I recommended? I suggest you seriously consider those for tomorrow.” Chelsea glared at him. His frown remained in place, but a small sparkle lit up his hazel eyes. “Come on, I’ll drive you to the barn. There’s no way you’re walking back in those.” He turned and led the way to the pickup truck he’d used to drive them down there earlier.

  She glanced at her feet. Her shoes used to be black. She doubted they’d ever be the same again. A squishing noise made her grimace when she lifted one foot and then the other. The barn could be seen from where they were now. But the thought of walking there with all the slime between her toes…. She shuddered. Pretending she couldn’t feel the mud shifting around under her feet, she hurried after Parker.

  During the ride back to the barn, she wasn’t sure what bothered her more: That Parker basically said, “I told you so,” regarding her shoes this morning, or that he’d insinuated she’d be walking around in the mud again tomorrow.

  She studied him from the corner of her eye. Or maybe what bothered her the most was the fact that, except for the mud, she’d enjoyed seeing Parker manage the cattle. Watching him work just might make coming back tomorrow a little easier.

  ~

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Oh, yes, it is.” Laurie snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth.

  Her husband, Tuck, laughed even harder after that, leaning his dining room chair back and shaking his head.

  Chelsea wanted to throw something at her sister. She’d just told them about how Parker insisted she go and watch the new cattle being unloaded into their pen. She curled her toes at the memory of how the mud had surrounded them. She’d tried to clean her feet when she got back to her new office, but it made little difference. The rest of the afternoon, her f
eet itched thanks to the dry mud.

  Thankfully, she hadn’t run into Mrs. Wilson again. And she’d already decided which shoes to wear tomorrow. Especially if Parker intended to drag her outside for other goings-on at the ranch.

  Laurie brought her laughter under control and feigned a look of sympathy. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It sounds like he’s about as fond of you as you are of him.”

  Chelsea set her fork down and huffed. “He wasn’t happy to see me, that’s for sure. He has horrible scars down one side of his face. The way he acts, you’d think I put them there myself.”

  Tuck appeared thoughtful. “He was in a bad car accident a year or so ago. I wasn’t on duty at the police department that day, but I heard they had to cut him out of the car. If I recall correctly, he was in the hospital for several weeks. He was lucky to be alive at all, and it ended his career on the rodeo circuit.”

  Chelsea sat up straight. “You know him? Why didn’t you warn me the guy was a serious grump?” And he was a rodeo cowboy? She tried to picture him riding a bull or bucking bronco, but couldn’t quite conjure up the image.

  “I don’t know him. Only what I’ve heard from other people and read in the local newspaper.” Tuck shrugged.

  A twinge of regret twisted in Chelsea’s gut. So he’d had a rough time. It’s not like she’d been the one to cause his accident. She tried to imagine being trapped in her car like that and shuddered.

  Tuck jabbed his fork into the air. “The guy was a media magnet and local hero most of his life until he dropped off the radar after his accident.”

  As far as the man’s personality went, Chelsea had a hard time seeing him as someone the media would focus on. But looks? Take away the scars and oh, yeah. A handsome cowboy like that was sure to have quite the female following. She made a mental note to search for some background on her new employer later. If nothing else, she’d better understand where he was coming from. Or at least have some ammo to return fire. She took a bite of her salad.