“Thanks for bringing them here, Sheriff.”
“Better not thank me. This crew is greener than the grass, and I’m feeling guilty for delivering them to the ranch. In fact, maybe you could not mention to Joe that I brought them.”
She laughed.
“Oh, sure, you’re laughing now, but you won’t be when you figure out that I’m right.” He waved as he left.
A tall man in his midforties got out of the SUV. He shook his head and released a breath. “Gallagher Ranch, I hope.”
“It is, and I’m Rebecca Simpson.”
“Our liaison, right?”
“Yes. I’m also doing the certification.”
“Great. I’m Rod, photographer and videographer.” He stepped forward to offer a grin of relief, along with a brisk handshake.
She took his hand while returning the smile.
“Looks like we’re all in the family. OrthoBorne family, that is. Sorry we’re so late. The GPS on the rental went wacky once we hit the outskirts of town. We thought we were here once, but there was no road beyond the gate. For all I know, we were on another ranch somewhere around here.”
“No worries,” Rebecca said. “The good news is after the first time, you won’t forget your way to the ranch. It’s pretty easy. There’s only one paved road in and out of Paradise. Take it until you come to the arched entrance.” She pointed to the wrought-iron archway with the large entwined letters G and R.
“Easy. Yeah, that’s what I said until the third or fourth time we passed Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, and I realized I was driving in circles.” He turned to the vehicle, giving a wave for the other occupants to join him. “I brought Julian, our intern, and Abigail, one of our staff copywriters.”
“Mr. Gallagher didn’t mention three of you.”
“Julian was a last-minute addition,” Rod said. “He’ll assist with shoots.”
The front passenger door of the vehicle swung open, and a tall, thin, young man with long shaggy hair, a minuscule beard and wire-rim glasses rolled out. Earphones were propped on his head. When he glanced around, enthusiasm brightened his eyes. “Wow. This is great. I’ve never been west of the mountains.”
The only female of the group came around the truck to assess the situation. With one hand, she shoved back her shoulder-length cascade of strawberry-blond hair and with the other she pushed an oversized black leather tote over her shoulder.
“I knew we were in Paradise the minute I laid eyes on the good sheriff.” The woman smiled and stepped forward, offering a handshake in greeting. Her nails were short and unpolished, no-nonsense like the woman herself, who was dressed in tan khakis and a taupe sweater. “Abigail Warren. Call me Abi.”
“Rebecca Simpson.”
“Yes,” Abi said quietly. “I’ve read about you.”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” Rebecca murmured in response.
“Never. I’m a writer. I recognize fiction when I see it.”
When Abi winked, Rebecca knew she’d found an ally.
Overhead the sky rumbled. “Uh-oh.” Julian tugged the earphones from his head to listen closely. “Thunder? That can’t be good.”
“Let’s move over to the horse barn. It’s the closest shelter.” Rebecca pointed to the large red building. “The log cabin to your left is Mr. Gallagher’s, and that two-story colonial on your right is the main house.”
When the sky thundered again, the crew picked up their pace, following Rebecca. Along the way, their curious gazes took in the details of the Gallagher ranch, the barn, the fenced-in corral and the utility garage.
“Is that a windmill?” Abi asked, pointing to the teetering, metal structure standing out in the distance.
“It is.”
“What do they use them for?” she asked.
“They used to be utilized to bring water from the aquifers to the cattle. Most ranches use pump irrigation now.”
“When will we meet our client?” Rod asked.
“That depends on when he comes back from the pasture.”
“Horses,” Julian said when Rebecca pulled open one of the large barn doors. Wonderment laced his voice. He turned around to observe the stalls.
“That’s probably why she called it a horse barn,” Abi noted.
“This is Julian’s first big on-location assignment,” Rod said. “His life is usually spent working with computer software in the office. Generally his idea of nature is the Denver Zoo.”
Julian shrugged. “I’d deny it, except it’s absolutely true.”
“Great, then you’ll appreciate that we’re going to tour the ranch first thing tomorrow.”
“It’s starting to rain.” Julian observed the fat drops beginning to touch the ground.
“Rain doesn’t stop life on the ranch,” Rebecca said.
She scrutinized their clothing, from Abi’s open-toe sandals to Julian’s flip-flops and realized that it was actually a very good thing that Joe wasn’t here.
“Let’s talk about your schedule, and then I’ll let you get back to town to check in at the Paradise Bed and Breakfast and do some shopping.”
“Shopping?” Abi perked up.
“Yes.” Rebecca smiled. “First, I’d like to take this opportunity to make a few safety recommendations.” She stared pointedly at Julian. “Leave your earphones and earbuds in your suitcase. While you are working on the ranch, it’s important to listen and be in tune with your surroundings. You’ll want to hear the nuances of the land, including the weather. There are potential dangers, as well.”
“Dangers?” Julian asked.
“Dangerous wildlife, or even a ranch animal in distress.”
Rod nodded as the others focused on her words.
“You need boots. Cowboy boots, hiking boots or sturdy rubber boots with safety toes. Whatever you prefer. They’ll protect your feet and ankles from things like horse hooves, cow patties, insects, or even snakebites. Besides boots, you’ll want to dress in layers. It’s cold in the morning, warm in the afternoon.”
“I’d really like a cowboy hat,” Abi said.
Rebecca chuckled. “You do need some sort of hat. A cowboy hat is perfect. Gloves, sunscreen. All a necessity. Our altitude is higher than Denver’s. You can get burned faster here than in the city.”
“Anything else?” Rod asked.
“Tomorrow we’ll start by driving around the ranch, so bring your gear and water bottles. Keep in mind that there are no restrooms out in the pasture.”
“Any place to charge a cell phone?” Julian asked as he held his phone aloft in various positions, searching for reception.
Rebecca blinked. “I imagine we’ll be using a ranch truck, or utility vehicle, and usually ranch vehicles are of the ancient variety. It probably doesn’t have an adapter.” She paused. “I can’t even guarantee one bar out here. Most days in the warm months, yes. But you never know. It all depends on Mother Nature and where you happen to be standing.”
“You’re on the wild prairie,” Rod said with a