“Deep, deep down, right?” Tara guessed, deciding that Lauren wasn’t interested in Josh, after all, except as a patient.
“He can be difficult, but from everything I’ve heard, he’s going through a rough time right now.” Lauren nervously adjusted her water glass. “Anyhow, I was thrilled when you said you were coming for an extended visit, but can you afford to be off work that long?”
“It isn’t a problem.”
Tara wasn’t accustomed to sharing personal details with anyone, and didn’t elaborate on her financial situation. For ten years she’d enjoyed generous salaries, a full living expense allowance and hefty bonuses. She’d bought company stock and was well fixed. Employment wasn’t about earning a paycheck any longer; it was about seeing and living in new places and getting better at her work in accounting and records management. She’d specialized in both.
Their food came, and as Tara ate, she saw Josh McGregor inhale an enormous hamburger so fast he probably didn’t even taste it on the way down. The corner of her mouth twitched as she saw a splash of sauce from the burger hit the neat bandage on his hand. He wiped it quickly and got up, tossing money on the table.
On his way to the door he gave her another polite nod, but Tara wasn’t fooled. Whatever had been burning under his facade was still smoldering.
THE THIRD NIGHT after he’d cut his hand, Josh wished he’d filled the prescription for painkillers from Lauren; instead it was still in his wallet. He’d decided to tough things out.
He lay in bed for another few minutes, listening to the sounds that drifted in through the open window—cattle lowing, the neighs from the horses...a night breeze through the trees. Finally, he rolled out of bed and took two aspirins before dropping into the living room recliner.
The house Josh lived in was a couple hundred feet from the main house. His choice to stay in the foreman’s residence, instead of with Walt, was another source of tension between them. Walt thought his grandson should be at his immediate beck and call, though not because of uncertainty over his health. He just wanted to yell that the barns needed to be checked or to do some other task...usually something Josh had already handled or assigned to someone.
Josh’s mouth tightened.
Unreasonable expectations were why the foreman’s house had been empty. Grandpa was an old-school rancher who believed in running things with an iron fist, and no foreman worth his salt was willing to be treated as a glorified flunky. Walt had never kept anyone for more than a few months.
Belatedly recalling the recommendation Lauren Spencer had made, Josh raised his injured arm and draped it above his head.
Maybe if he hadn’t repaired the corral his hand wouldn’t be throbbing so much, but he couldn’t take any time off to let the gash heal—there was too much to do.
Now another cowhand had quit, leaving with the wry remark that he hoped to get his final pay. Josh presumed it was a reference to the deplorable state of the ranch office. Walt’s name remained on the ranch accounts and he insisted that he could continue writing the checks, but payments were erratic. When Josh had brought it up earlier, the old man had furiously claimed he had a plan and would get it done.
Right, a plan.
His grandfather kept an old-style ledger book to carefully track the number of foals born each year, but all the other ranch accounts were in shambles. Walt practically considered a computer to be blasphemy and the internet a passing fad not worth thinking about. Apparently it had escaped his notice that his wife had owned a computer and used the internet.
When Josh had moved in, he’d had the internet service transferred to the foreman’s house. His next step would have to be getting a computer online at the ranch office, though he could imagine his grandfather’s explosion when he did so.
Josh released a heavy breath.
God, he missed Grandma Evelyn. She was the one who’d kept peace between her husband and the rest of the family. But it was more than that. She’d been a wise, beautiful, laughter-filled presence in his life. Losing her had left a hole that refused to heal.
His family kept urging him to have patience with Walt, but they didn’t know how bad things had gotten. Legally Josh now owned the Boxing N and could do what he wanted, but how could he oust his grandfather? Hang the legalities; it was still Walt’s ranch. But like it or not, Josh knew he’d have to take control of the office at some point. Bills and the payroll needed to be properly managed, along with any stock sales or purchases. He didn’t want to get a reputation for being unreliable.
The throbbing slowly eased in his hand, and Josh had fallen asleep, when the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver, adrenaline racing through him.
“Yes?”
“We need to get to the hospital,” said his grandfather.
Josh shot to his feet. Walt had been frail since the accident, and his continuing health issues had put stress on his heart. Was it possible their heated discussion about the ranch office had brought on a heart attack or stroke?
“What symptoms are you having?”
“It isn’t me,” Grandpa returned irritably. “It’s Alaina. Your sister has gone into labor.”
Josh’s pulse slowed. It was good news, not an emergency.
“If it’s just started, we don’t have to rush,” he said. “Mom says first babies take time. Get some more sleep and we’ll go in a couple of hours.”
“No, now.”
Josh released an exasperated breath. He might have known Walt wouldn’t budge. His grandfather was crazy about Alaina, despite her being related to the McGregor clan rather than the Nelsons. It had taken Walt a while to accept both Trent and Alaina after they were adopted by his daughter and son-in-law, but Alaina had totally won him over.
A few minutes later Josh stepped outside. Grandpa was waiting on the porch of the main house and without a word climbed into the cab of the truck, maneuvering his bad leg into place.
Josh headed for town, his hand pulsing again. He could take the pain med prescription to the pharmacy in a couple of hours, but he hated the way that stuff made him feel. That was one of the few things he shared with Walt; his grandfather didn’t like taking anything for pain, either.
* * *
TARA EXITED HER apartment complex and saw Lauren coming down the block toward her. They’d discovered a mutual fondness for early-morning walks and had agreed to meet each day at 6:00 a.m. so they could go together. It was a relief to finally discover something in common.
Tara fell in step with her sister, who had started toward the edge of town. “Do you always take the same route?” she asked.
“Usually. I guess that makes me boring, but I enjoy the fitness trail. It’s great to get away from houses and power lines. I could never do it easily in Los Angeles, but would you rather go another way?”
“This works for me.”
Beginning at the hospital, the path continued out to the county park, where it branched into different directions. Tara had first seen the park on one of her drives; it was a pretty place and she looked forward to exploring it thoroughly. But as they walked through the hospital’s small parking lot, Lauren’s pace slowed.
“That’s Trent’s truck,” she said, gesturing to a vehicle with Big Sky Construction painted on the door. “Emily is only five months along—it’s too early. Do you mind if we... Well, you don’t need to go in. You should continue on without me.”
“No, I’ll come with you,”