6. Brock
CHAPTER 6
Brock
M y hand drifts across the entrance table as I wait for Emerson to come down from the loft. I’m pretending to check for dust, though the coach house was thoroughly cleaned before she moved in. I just want her first day to be perfect.
Really, I’m just keeping my hands busy while I wait.
Have I ever personally escorted anyone else to their living quarters on their first day?
If I have, I can’t remember it now. I’m already going above and beyond for this woman.
Then again, I haven’t had a ranch administrator who looks like Emerson Ward before.
We’re used to stunning women arriving in luxury cars, their perfect smiles gleaming as they step out in revealing tops, trust funds, and platinum cards at the ready. It’s been that way for three generations—catering to the affluent who want the finest horses money can buy.
But few carry themselves with the poised dignity of the woman descending the steps toward me.
Is that all it is? The way she’s carrying herself? Or is it more than that?
I haven’t been able to shake off whatever it is that’s nagging me about her since I first laid eyes on her resumé. Like I’m somehow connected to this woman. If I believed in fate, I’d say the universe is pointing me to her.
But I don’t believe in that sort of thing, so I’ll settle for a competent ranch administrator.
She adjusts her round glasses and offers me a nod. “Shall we?” she drawls. “Sorry to keep you.”
“You didn’t,” I reassure her, turning for the door. “You all settled?”
She hesitates, looking behind her, and nods quickly. “As settled as I need to be for the time being. I’m eager to get to work.”
“Let’s get to it then.”
I lead the way out of the coach house and toward the waiting ranch truck. We’d driven up from the main gate today, leaving her vehicle at the entrance upon her arrival. Before dropping her bags at the coach house, we did a full sweep of all the roads, including the lesser-known fire roads, to give her a full lay of the land.
Now we drive a straight shot up the main route connecting the barn, office, and stables. I find myself peering at her profile as she takes in the corrals on her right, the awe on her face palpable. My pulse speeds up, my brain tickling slightly like it’s trying to tell me something, but I can’t quite identify what.
She is lovely to look at, though.
I have to stop staring at her, but she makes it hard. She makes me hard, much as I hate to admit it. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since her interview.
Fuck, I’m acting like Toby.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this sight,” she admits, glancing back at me. “I wasn’t just giving you a line at my interview. The photos don’t do this place justice, as beautiful as they are. There’s a feeling about it you just can’t capture in a still form.”
“You won’t get used to it,” I confirm. “I haven’t, and I’ve lived here my whole life. It still takes my breath away every single morning.”
I pull the truck to a stop in front of the office, and we climb out, heading inside. Andy, our lead ranch hand, lingers in the outer office with his daughter over the reception desk.
“Hey,” Andy calls to us, and I stifle a small groan.
I’d forgotten to tell Lana not to come in today. The teen picks at her fingernails over the desk without acknowledging us at all.
“Hey, yourself,” I reply, removing my hat as we enter. I run a hand through my hair and nod toward Emerson. “This is Miss Ward. She’s our new ranch administrator.”
“Emerson will do,” she corrects me pleasantly, extending a hand for Andy to take.
“This is Andy, our ranch manager, and his daughter, Lana. She has been answering phones and doing some administrative tasks, while we looked to fill the position full-time.”
Andy eyes us warily, and for the first time, Lana seems to clue in that something has changed. He hastily accepts Emerson’s proffered palm and releases it just as fast, stepping back.
“Oh… you don’t need Lana around here anymore?” the rancher asks.
Emerson’s smile falters, and she covertly steps back, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
“Why don’t you wait in my office, Emerson,” I suggest to the young woman.
This is my fault. I should have dealt with this earlier. I’d just been so caught up with the idea of having Emerson come in, I hadn’t thought about anything else.
Without a word, Emerson retreats further into the building, and I face my long-time employee.
“Why aren’t you in the stables this morning?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I came to check on Lana,” Andy complains. “And tell you that we need more chicken feed and tacking supplies… and the pads…”
He trails off as if he suddenly realizes his mistake in bringing it to my attention.
My eyes narrow, and I look accusingly at his daughter. “I gave that order to Lana two weeks ago. All of that should have been here by now.”
Lana purposely raises her eyes toward the ceiling, and I stalk toward the desk where she sits. I rifle through the pile in front of her, and I find the order buried beneath a stack of doodles.
Are you kidding me?
I glare at the order form buried under her doodles. “Didn’t you send this in two weeks ago like I asked?”
It’s obvious she didn’t.
Lana stares at me like I’m speaking a foreign language, and I swallow my ire. It’s my own fault. I should have followed up, knowing how incompetent she was, but there’s only so much I can do. This is exactly why we need a proper ranch administrator.
“Never mind,” I sigh. “I’ll put a rush on it. Is that all?”
Before he can respond, I hold up a hand. “You know what, forget it. I’ll come out myself with Emerson and do a thorough check myself. She should get a handle on inventory anyway.”
“You can go, Lana,” I say when they continue to stare at me. “Thank you for all that you’ve done.” Although I say it with kindness, I hope the sarcasm isn’t lost on her.
Lana’s eyes fill with tears. “You’re firing me?”
“What kind of gratitude is that, Brock?” Andy barks. “She did you a favor by filling in!”
We would have been better off not having her here at all, I almost counter.
The office door opens, and Owen saunters inside, his brow raising as he immediately appears to sense the tension. I catch myself before I say something I truly regret and lock gazes with Owen. His calm presence fills the room, and I can read his thoughts clearly.
Andy is still a valued employee, even if his daughter didn’t live up to her potential.
I steady my breath and count to three, just like Mom taught me all those years ago. I can almost hear her calming voice in my ear right now.
“Sometimes, son, you gotta be the bigger person, even when it’s painful.”
“You know how much we appreciate you helping us out,” I begin again, collecting myself. “But this was a temporary position. I apologize for not letting you know about the new hire sooner.”
“You can’t just keep her around and find something for her to do?” Andy asks on her behalf.
“Emerson is a better fit for the office position, and she’s already moved into the coach house,” I say firmly. “And I don’t need anyone in the office part-time. The decision is made. I’m sorry, Lana. Now, I’m sure we can find you something else to do around here if you’re looking for work.”
“Like what?” she asks.
“Maybe you can help out the ranch hands in the barns, baling hay or?—”
“I’m not mucking out stalls!” she protests, springing to her feet to fold her arms across her chest defiantly. “Daddy!”
Andy stares at me angrily. “Brock…”
I meet his eyes sternly. “Last I checked, this is still my ranch, Andy. And Lana knew the position was only temporary. I don’t have time for this.” I look at the teenage girl. “Lana, if you want a job, report to the barn, and talk to one of the boys there. Otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you. Thank you for your help these past few weeks. We will give you an extra week’s pay for the inconvenience. If you’ll excuse me…”
I don’t let either one of them respond before stalking into my office, where Emerson waits in a chair, eying the door warily as I close it with too much force.
“Did I take her job?” she asks nervously.
“Hardly.” I roll my eyes and gesture for her to join me behind the desk. “Don’t worry about her. She was told the job was temporary when she started. Come sit with me, and we’ll go over the budgeting and reports. How familiar are you with payroll systems?”
She perches beside me, and I try not to get distracted by her scent, but it triggers something inside me, a memory, fleeting but exciting.
At the back of my mind, I hear laughter and smell her very perfume… but it’s different somehow. A blonde squeals in my memory as I fuck her. I flush with humiliation. The memory of Vegas overcomes me in a tidal wave, and I almost choke on it.
What a time to be thinking about that! Toby is rubbing off on me more and more every day.
My head whips toward her, but Emerson’s auburn head turns downward to check her tablet, comparing notes. Shrugging off my unbidden and completely inappropriate thought, I slide my chair away from Emerson, determined to put space between us.
As I suspected, she’s an incredibly quick study, asking questions when necessary, but mostly absorbing the tasks without much effort.
We make our rounds to the barn and stables later in the morning to check on inventory and supplies. I introduce Emerson to the ranch hands and trainers, ensuring she’s known to the staff.
The staff greets Emerson politely, but no one shows her any more or less interest than average, making me wonder what I’m seeing in her.
Andy keeps his distance as we amble by, and I narrow my eyes, wondering if my ranch manager is going to be a problem. I make a mental note to have Toby speak with him later.
I won’t have the men giving Emerson a hard time here.
As the blazing Texan sun hits high noon, we retreat to the office just as Owen also circles back to join us.
“Lunch?” he calls to me as Emerson slips inside the building.
I’m half-tempted to ask her to join us, but it doesn’t seem appropriate to invite her back to the house on her first day, if at all. I’m not sure I trust myself around her when I can’t seem to stop thinking about her in various inappropriate positions.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Sure,” I agree. “Let me tell her.”
We pop our heads inside and I find her already behind the computer, working on an inventory order without direction.
“You can take lunch if you want,” I tell her. “We’re not formal around here, and I won’t always be here to direct you, so take breaks as you need them.”
She nods absently, half looking up from the computer screen. “I’m all right for now,” she replies, flashing Owen a smile. “But go on ahead. I have more than enough to keep me occupied here for the rest of the day, at least.”
Impressed with her dedication, I hesitate. “I can give you directions to the grocery store, but we made sure the coach house was stocked with a few staples, so you do have food there.”
“Thanks.” She raises her head and smiles brilliantly, the sight tightening my chest.
My brother and I retreat to the outer office and out the front door, the two of us heading toward the house on the hill.
“How’s she working out?” Owen asks. “Any regrets yet?”
“Not at all,” I answer honestly. “She’s every bit as quick as I thought she would be. She doesn’t make mistakes, and she asks questions if she’s not sure.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to add my private thoughts about her, that I feel like I know her, but I keep it to myself. It feels stupid to admit, even though the feeling won’t go away.
In the northern corral, I catch sight of Toby leaning over the gate, chatting with one of the trainers, and frown. “Does that boy ever do any work?” I mutter.
“Maybe if you stopped referring to him as a boy, he’d do more work,” Owen comments dryly.
“Maybe if he stopped acting like a boy, I would,” I fire back.
“Cut him some slack,” Owen warns.
I yell out. “Hey!”
Our younger brother turns toward us and waves enthusiastically.
Owen gives me a look. “Seriously, give it a rest for a day, would you? Let’s just keep the peace around here for now—especially after what happened with Andy.”
Toby scampers toward us and joins us for the last part of the conversation. “What happened with Andy this morning?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
Now it’s my turn to give Owen a dirty look, but he doesn’t see it as we continue toward our house.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Toby presses.
“Brock fired Lana,” Owen explains. “Andy didn’t take it well.”
“Actually,” I add quickly. “You should have a chat with him. His attitude was a little unprofessional. Lana was here temporarily. They both knew that. I don’t want him causing problems for Emerson.”
“You sure do have a way with people, Brock,” Toby chuckles, throwing open the front door and kicking off his filthy boots.
A pile of dirt tracks into the house with us anyway, and we pad over the hardwood floor toward the kitchen, tossing our hats on the table as we pass by.
“I do have a way with people,” I snap back. “That’s why I’ve been the one dealing with them.”
“You deal with their money,” Toby retorts. “I deal with them in the dirt.”
I scowl. “Good. Then, make sure that Andy understands that Emerson deserves respect. I won’t have him giving her a hard time.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Toby insists. “But I’ll talk to him.”
If he remembers, I think sourly. Asking Toby to do anything had a fifty-fifty chance of getting accomplished.
Owen opens the fridge and pulls out a Tupperware container with last night’s leftovers: grilled chicken breast and vegetables. I collapse onto one of the stools at the kitchen island and lean over the countertop as Owen fixes sandwich wraps for lunch.
Toby pulls out a beer and offers me one, but my look of disapproval makes him roll his eyes.
“Oh, give me a break. I don’t have any lessons today,” he complains, popping off the cap and swigging back defiantly.
Owen pulls the chicken from the container and cuts it into strips, eying me warningly again.
“Anyway, I don’t get the luxury of spending time with our hot new employee,” Toby taunts. “I got to take my pleasures where I can.”
I bristle slightly. “Don’t talk about Emerson like that,” I scold him. “She’s the ranch administrator, not another notch for your bedpost.”
“ Our bedpost, brother,” Toby remarks sarcastically. “I told you; I always share.”
My hands curl into fists. “I’m not fucking around, Toby. Leave her alone. I think she’ll be a good fit around here, and I don’t want her quitting.”
Owen’s dark eyebrows shoot up at my tone.
Toby laughs again. “Oh relax. I’m not going to do anything. Our only backup option for that job right now is Lana.”
I glower at him. “That’s why you won’t hit on her? Because we won’t have a backup administrator?”
Toby shrugs nonchalantly. “See? I can be business-minded, too.”
Owen snorts. “One of these days, I’m going to start keeping a tally of how many days you two can go without getting into an argument.”
Toby points at me. “Tell it to him. He’s the one who starts it.”
Owen ignores our bickering and continues to chop the red peppers. “I thought you were meeting with the Pine Sky town council today.”
I tense as I stare at Toby.
My brother freezes, his beer bottle suspended midway to his mouth. His expression goes blank. “What’s today?” he mumbles, looking from one of us to the other.
“Monday,” we chorus.
A smile of relief breaks over his face. “It got moved to Wednesday. The mayor couldn’t make it, so she rescheduled.”
That boy has the devil’s own luck.
“You’ll take Emerson with you,” I decide suddenly. She’ll keep him in line, my brother and his irresponsible ways.
“Fine by me.” Toby takes a swig of his beer.
I groan aloud. He didn’t even put up a little bit of a fight.
“Toby, just keep your hands to yourself. I mean it!” I remind him.
He sets his beer down on the table. “I’ll behave! Promise.”
How can a twenty-nine-year-old man act like such a child? He’s like a little boy compared to Owen and me.
But Toby had always been like this, doubling my protectiveness and irritation with him. Still, he’s just as much an owner in Pine Sky Ranch as we are. Our mother’s will had seen to that.
Owen places a plate with the freshly made wraps in the middle of the kitchen island, and Toby jumps in first to grab one.
Silently, I chew, my mind traveling back to the redhead working diligently in our offices. I hope Toby doesn’t scare her off. Maybe I should give her a heads-up about my oversexed brother. But that might pre-emptively scare her off.
Anyway, Emerson Ward seemed like the kind of woman who could handle herself just fine.