Page 7 of Hers to Call
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Morning was always a busy time on a ranch the size of the one Simon owned. Various clan members were working, giving him funny looks as they passed. Normally, Simon was interacting with them, checking in to make sure everything was running smoothly. This morning though, he was stuck in his head, so he understood the looks. He led the horse he was riding by the reins, his mind on the offer he’d made Calita yesterday. It was all he’d been able to think about all morning, really.
“Yo, Earth to Alpha.” Gavin, his foreman, and second in command waved his hand near Simon’s face.
Simon shook his head and gave Gavin his attention.
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“I’m sorry, Gavin, I missed it.”
“You’ve been distracted all morning.” Gavin took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “Not a good thing around the horses.”
Simon grunted at the admonishment.
“Would it have anything to do with the lovely chef?”
“None of your business,” he muttered.
Gavin laughed. “There’s talk of you two walking around the city holding hands, getting chummy.”
“We were not holding hands.” A petty point, Simon knew.
“Either way I lost the bet. I was sure it would take you a couple more days.”
Simon sighed. “Hopefully with the bet over, the town will stay out of my love life.”
“Not likely,” Gavin chuckled.
Simon slapped his horse’s flank and sent him into the pasture with the other horses awaiting riders for the midmorning trail ride. “I’m going to get lunch and pretending I don’t know that my bears are cooking up another bet.”
Gavin’s laughter chased him into the house. He’d lost a lot of time this morning woolgathering. Time he’d have to make up after lunch. He sighed. He would eat quickly and get back to it. There were two families checking in the next day and he mentally went over his checklist to make sure their cabins are ready. He stomped his feet off at the back door knowing Becca, the she-bear who looked after his house, would fuss if he came in with dirty feet. He usually entered the house through the mud room in the garage, but it was one more thing to chalk up to distraction.
“Hey, Becca, I’m just home for a few minutes to eat.” His voice trailed off as he looked up and spotted his ex-wife sitting at his kitchen table.
He darted a questioning gaze at Becca and raised his eyebrow. She huffed and set his plate on the table.
“My mama raised me right,” is all she said.
Simon read between the lines. She didn’t like it, but Becca would not be rude to his unexpected guest.
Simon sat and said a prayer over his lunch, his daddy’s training ingrained even years after the man was gone. The hot roast beef sandwich smelled good. “I praise the day you came into my life, Becca.” Simon said appreciatively.
She rolled her eyes and went back to cleaning the countertops.
He took a bite of his sandwich and stared at his ex-wife. Miranda was still beautiful, in an artful, put together way. Her hair, auburn, straight and silky stopped at her shoulders and complimented her caramel skin well. Last time he saw her it was black and cut into a sleek bob. Simon couldn’t help comparing her to Calita. His ex-wife was petite, even elfin in appearance, where Cali was tall, and all soft curves. Miranda’s dark brown eyes were hard, cunning, a plan almost always brewing in the back of her mind. Of course, when they were married, Simon thought of it as determination, strength, especially when it came to fighting for shifters. He’d admired her, plain and simple. Now, he saw the calculation he’d glossed over before. Her eyes couldn’t compare to Calita’s warm and expressive ones.
“What do want, Miranda?” he asked minutes later, now that the edge of hunger was appeased, he hoped it would help control his temper and his bear.
“You’ve really turned the farm around,” she commented.
Her tone was nonchalant, but he could see her mental calculator tallying the changes he’d made and fixing a price to them. If he let her, the hard sell would start. There was always a cause or organization that needed just a few more dollars to ‘really get their mission going’. Simon continued eating; she’d never needed prodding to talk.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m doing?”
“Miranda, I only have a few minutes to eat lunch, I don’t want to spend it playing games with you.”
“Alpha, if you don’t need me, I’ll excuse myself and go help get the cabins ready for our guests tomorrow,” Becca broke in, giving Miranda a nasty look.
