Page 9 of Charlie Takes a Chance

It’s way past time for me to dig out my winter gear. I’ve been making do with just my jacket, but it’s officially time for a hat and gloves too.

But on days like this, there’s nothing better than looking forward to a warm fire at the end of the day.

When I finish my work, I find an unusual sight as the dogs and I pull up to the house. Every light is on. When I shut off the diesel pickup, I hear music playing.

Shecan’t still be here. There’s no way. I’d made myself clear.

I storm up the paver-stone walkway and jump all three steps up the porch. I try to open the door, but it’s locked. The only time I lock it is when I’m going to sleep. I punch in the key code to unlock the door. I swing it open to find Charlie in the kitchen, dancing around in yoga pants, singing into a spoon to “All I Want For Christmas.”

There are so many things wrong with this situation that I address the worst offense first.

“It is still NOVEMBER!!!! Why are you listening to Christmas music?”

She spins around, holding that stirring spoon out like a sword, her jaw dropping open. She glances back at the clock then turns back to me. “What are you doing back so early?”

“Early? It’s the end of the day!”

“I thought ranchers were supposed to work ridiculously long hours,” she replies snarkily.

“It’s the slow season,” I shoot back. I stomp into the kitchen and find the speaker, turning the music down so I can hear myself think.

“I was going to surprise you with a warm dinner.” She points to the pot on the stove. “But you’re back earlier than I thought. It’s not ready yet!”

I have to take two deep breaths before I can answer her. I’m afraid I might lose my temper, so I say it as politely as possible. “Get out.”

Charlie scrunches her eyebrows together. “Dinner’s not even ready yet!” She shakes that spoon in front of my face.

“Youwere supposed to be gone by the time I got back. You’re not getting to stay just because you made dinner.” Though, I’ll admit, warm soup does sound good right now.

She plants her hands on her hips, causing her sweater to bunch up to the top of her yoga pants. “You can’t kick me out. I get to stay here. Magnolia said so.”

“Well, that’s just whatyousay. She hasn’t said anything to me.” I grin at her shocked face. I guess thereareperks to working in poor cell service. Calls and texts can sometimes be weather-dependent. And if Nash tried to get a hold of me today—well, it didn’t go through. “Oh yeah, you think I’m going to take the word of a stranger that I should share a house with them? I don’t think so.”

She glares at me then sets the spoon down on the counter with a snap. She takes two big steps toward me, and that’s when I notice the white shoes on her feet—definitely from the city. Shoes stay white out here for about five minutes. Once you step outside, they’re covered in cow crap or red dirt.

“You’re just going to have to be okay with it. I’m not leaving until I finish the job I was hired to do.”

I was so mesmerized by her white tennis shoes that I didn’t realize she’d moved close enough to jab me in the chest with her index finger—twice. The second time is harder than the first.

I grasp her hand before she can do it a third time. “Good for you. Now, you know what would make it easier to do your job? Is if you actually went and worked on the problem.” I pull gently at first, like I’ll helpfully escort her out the door.

Her eyes widen as she understands my meaning. She looks at me as though to ask,You can’t possibly mean to drag me outside?

Actually, I can,I say back with raised eyebrows.

She leans back and hauls off to punch my arm. Yeah, she definitely knows I’m going to toss her out. And if that didn’t quite sink in, the part where I start dragging her toward the front door would make that pretty clear.

Those tennis shoes squeak on the floor as she leans back. Too bad for her, she’s light enough to pick up one-handed. I’ve been throwing about a hundred alfalfa bales each morning. Each one of them weighs more than she does. She doesn’t stand a chance.

Charlie shrieks and tries to slip her hand out of mine.

Jim and Larry run in circles around us, barking at the excitement, thinking we’re playing a game.

And maybe we are. But I sure as heck am going to be the one to win this.

“How dare you,” Charlie seethes as she tries to kick me. “You can’t just drag people out of your house!”

“So you admit it’s mine?” I grin at her furious face. “Ouch!” I glance down at our hands to see that she’s pinching the skin on the back of my hand. I release her hand right away and go back to what worked last night.

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