Page 16 of On His Ranch

“‘Bout time you got in here. You missed breakfast.”

“I had other things to tend to.”

The old man’s eyes gleamed. “So you said. Well, is she the one?”

He’d been headed to the fridge, but at the older man’s question his step faltered. “What?”

“Is she the thief?”

Oh. Of course.“No, not as far as I can tell.”

“So what’s she doin’ here?”

“Says she needed a place to sleep for the night and chose to trespass in our barn.” He opened the fridge and reached inside for the bottle of orange juice.

“You buy it?”

“Not at first, but if she’s a thief, she’s a damn bad one.”

“Hmm.”

Chase turned to look at Senior who was drinking his coffee. “What? You see somethin’ I missed?”

“Oh, I doubt you missed a thing where that one is concerned.”

He gave Senior a glare. He didn’t like being laughed at.

“All I mean is it’s not like you to change your mind. If you did, I trust it’s for a good reason.”

“Look, is she pretty? ‘Course, a blind man could see it. But—”

“Relax, son. I trust you. I know you’ll put family and duty first, no matter how pretty the girl is.”

Chase let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It was a new thing, hearing his grandfather express complete confidence in him. His grandfather had always been a loving man, but maybe not in the way other men showed affection. He loved by teaching Chase everything he knew. Praise was rare, and gratitude even harder to come by. But just last year he had vindicated every hour Chase had ever spent tagging after from him, learning from him, being admonished to try harder and do better.

He’d given him the farm, the one that had been in their family for generations. For the first three, it had grown as each owner had bought more land around it. When his grandfather got it, there was too much work for him and two dozen workers, so instead he’d worked on solidifying their land with wooden fences. Then he’d planted all manner of fruit trees, and added other homey touches that made the land livable as well as profitable. He’d invested everything he had left in horses, and they bred the finest stock in the state. People came from a hundred miles in any direction to purchase their prize stallions.

When he had handed over the reins to Chase a year ago, he’d been in a state of shock. He’d been working beside his grandfather for so many years, and he’d never thought beyond that. He’d never dreamed that Senior would give over his life’s work, entrusting it to Chase.

It was the happiest day of his life. It also was when everything started to go wrong. As soon as the farm had changed management, so to speak, mysterious vandalism and theft started occurring. On one occasion, a row of apple trees had been set on fire. They had caught wind of it—literally, the smoke had been what alerted them—in time to save most of the trees, but four had to be dug up by the roots.

Three weeks later, their hay bales had disappeared and since winter was impending, it had been difficult and costly to replace what they needed for their livestock. And not two weeks after that, the gate to their horse pen had been broken, releasing all their stallions. They had managed to catch them all, but not before Light Bearer broke his leg. The vet had come out and his expression had been solemn as he’d informed them the horse would never race again. That was the biggest loss—Light Bearer had been favored to win every upcoming race. It would have meant prize money, and more important, free advertising for their horses.

Chase’s mouth set in a grim line as he thought about it. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Senior had changed his mind then and there, but he had to give his grandfather his due. He’d stood by him, insisting he be the one to decide how to handle each situation, refusing to even give advice. The only comfort was that he’d proven he could think quickly on his feet.

“Sit. Have some coffee,” Senior invited.

“Don’t mind if I do.” After he’d made himself a cup, he sat across from his grandfather.

“You look good.”

He arched a brow. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“Don’t know.” The older man scrutinized him. “Somethin’s different. You’re… looser.”

“You goin’ soft on me, Senior?”

His grandfather ignored the question. “I don’t know what you did, but keep doin’ it. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

---