Second Chance Ranch Chapter 2

Chapter TWO:

Squire Ackerman winced at the sound of the door banging closed behind him, the metal on metal reminding him of being trapped in the tank. Immediately, the smell of hot gears and diesel fuel assaulted him, though the more accurate scent in the administration trailer would be men who worked with horses.

He took a moment to center himself, grateful he’d managed to navigate the stairs and enter the building without Kelly seeing his limp. As he strode down the aisle toward the ranch hands, he wasn’t as successful. He’d been back at Three Rivers long enough for them to get used to his somewhat stunted gait, and they all busied themselves as they sensed his approaching fury.

“Where’s Ethan?” he growled at Tom Lovell, the only cowboy who hadn’t found a pretended task upon Squire’s arrival.

“Sent him out to the north fence, Boss.” Tom’s gum snapped as he chewed it. “You said it had popped its rungs.”

“How long’s he been gone?”

“He left about seven.” Tom stared steadily back at Squire, something the Army major appreciated. Tom would make a good general controller, Squire thought. But Clark sat at the front desk, and he’d run the operations on the ranch for almost as long as Squire had been alive.

Squire grunted his acceptance of Tom’s answer and hurried around the short, semi-permanent partition. The shoulder-height wall separated the front area of the trailer, where the cowboys met and received their assignments, from the row of permanent offices he’d built into the back.

His father’s door was the first on the left, Squire’s second, and their accountant occupied the last office.

He might as well start thinking of it as Kelly’s. Squire knew his father had already hired her in his mind. The interview was simply a formality.

Squire’s phone buzzed in his front pocket, but he waited until he’d made it inside his office, shut the door, and flipped the lock. Only then did he remove his phone, already knowing who had texted. Squire sighed, wishing he’d never taught his mother how to use technology.

Has Kelly arrived?

Like she didn’t have her nose pressed against the front windows, watching and waiting for Kelly’s car, simply so she could text him about it. She’d also sent message after message last night, each asking if Squire could handle seeing Kelly again. Her last one had said, Forget about last time. This is your second chance.

He’d ignored all her messages until that one. Then he’d sent back, There was no last time, and there is no this time. Mom, stop!

He definitely wanted there to be a last time. His invitation to her senior prom proved that. Her rejection screamed through him as loudly now as it had a decade ago. There would definitely not be a this time.

He leaned against the locked door and closed his eyes.

She hadn’t driven the forty minutes to the ranch to find a new husband, he knew that for certain. He couldn’t let the lines between them blur like they had last time.

At least he’d assigned Ethan a task in a remote quarter of the ranch. A calculated move, since Squire knew Ethan was the best looking cowboy employed at the ranch, with the biggest ego. He would’ve hit on Kelly before she even made it into his father’s office. Squire had sent him away to protect her from Ethan—not because he was jealous or worried about the competition. Definitely not because of that.

Squire knew the moment Kelly entered the building, and not only from the way the walls vibrated as the door slammed shut. That sound would never become familiar, and Squire blinked away the blinding images of smoke rising from a mangled heap of metal that used to be a tank. The one driven by Lou.

Though dangerous, he focused on what he could remember about Kelly to help drive away the memories of his last deployment. The scent of her perfume had stuck with him through the years. As he’d passed her on the stairs, he’d caught the same whiff of cocoa butter and honeysuckle he’d always associated with her.

Kelly’s voice floated through the thin walls of his office. “Thank you, Tom.” Squire stuffed away the twinge of guilt that he’d caused her embarrassment. He hadn’t worn impractical footwear to the ranch.

The walls shook again, Squire’s signal that his dad had arrived. He’d expect Squire in the interview, though he’d already decided to hire Kelly. Squire didn’t understand the point of the interview if he was going to hire the first person who walked through the door.

She’s the only person, he reminded himself. Still, she’d barely made it through the door, what with those ridiculous shoes. He’d had to employ his military training to keep his face blank while he’d spoken to her.

Pretending he didn’t know her may have been childish. Crossing his arms made him appear imposing and big, and he knew it. He’d done both on purpose to keep her at arm’s length. He hated that she turned him to mush with a tropical scent and a smattering of freckles.

He took a cleansing breath, praying for the strength he lacked. He’d experienced plenty of frustrating situations during his dual deployments overseas. He could weather this too, especially since Kelly Armstrong had made her interest clear years ago. Nothing between them had changed. He was still Chelsea’s little brother, someone Kelly had overlooked so often Squire had felt so completely invisible he’d sometimes startled when she spoke to him.

His phone buzzed again, but he chucked it on his desk before yanking open the door and heading toward his father’s office, taking careful seconds to make sure his left leg didn’t outpace his right.

Squire studied Kelly from a distance before he entered the room. Her turquoise blazer gave her a feminine figure, with a white blouse barely visible underneath. She wore those four-inch black heels and just the right amount of makeup to be professional. Her sandy hair fell halfway down her back; her light green eyes were as magnetic now as they’d been ten years ago.

He crossed his arms. A stampede of raging bulls did not scare Squire Ackerman. Bad weather could not deter him. Women did not affect him.

Major Squire Ackerman had complete control over himself, his emotions, and what he let other people see.

Especially Kelly.

“I am fearless,” he heard her say as he stepped closer to the doorway. “Who else would leave their cheating husband in California, trek halfway across the country with their four-year-old son, and attempt to start over?” She tried for a carefree chuckle, but her eyes caught his as he moved into the office. The sound stalled in her throat. She crossed her legs and gave him a pointed stare, but her gaze didn’t flicker to his injured leg.

“Sorry I’m late.” He settled on the corner of his dad’s desk, ignoring Kelly completely though his fingers curled into fists, needing to corner and interrogate the man who’d cheated on her. “What did I miss?”

His father glanced up at Squire. “Miss Kelly said she can get Three Rivers back in the black.”

Squire snorted. “How did Miss Kelly say she’d do that?” He reached down and opened a drawer in the desk. He pulled out a thick stack of file folders. “Because our last guy left us in a mess of trouble.” He dropped the files, which were incomplete financial records, on the desk. They made a deafening bang.

Kelly flinched. She swallowed, a nervous movement that drew his attention to the slender column of her neck. Frustration frothed inside his chest, filling and fighting and overflowing until he felt choked with longing for a future that could never come to fruition. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from asking her to the prom. Maybe then he’d have his dignity. Maybe then he could look her in the eye. Maybe then he’d be glad she’d applied for this job.

“I’d need to see the files in order to articulate a proper plan,” she said, only a slight tremor in her voice.

His dad nudged the stack forward. “Take ‘em.”

Kelly eyed the paperwork, which probably weighed more than she did. She stood and dragged the folders toward the edge of the desk, staying a healthy distance from Squire. “I can come back tomorrow with a proposal.”

“No need,” his dad said, and Squire knew what was coming next. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look bored.

Sure enough, his dad said, “You’re our only applicant. If you think you can do this, the job is yours.”

Kelly stared at him, unblinking.

A shiver squirreled down Squire’s back at the same time his stomach clenched. “Dad, let’s not be hasty.” He glared at Kelly like she’d somehow bewitched his father into offering her the job. He knew she hadn’t, just like he knew it was easier to act like a jerk to put distance between them. If she didn’t like him, then she’d avoid him. The very thought made his heart tumble to his shoes, but he needed the distance.

He turned away from her and leaned closer to his father. “We can’t afford another disaster.”

“I won’t let you down,” she said.

Squire’s blood squirmed in his veins at the assurance in her voice. He couldn’t believe her. She’d let him down before and didn’t even have the decency to admit it. He gave her another sweeping glare as his father clapped his shoulder.

“Show her to her office, son.” He tipped his head her way. “Clark out front will give you the paperwork you need.”

“Thank you.” Kelly smiled and shook his father’s hand, but he pulled her into a hug.

“It’s good to see you back in Three Rivers, Miss Kelly.”

Squire wished he didn’t think so too. The fresh ink on her divorce papers felt like a shield he should wield.

“Thank you, Frank.” She turned to Squire, almost like she would shake his hand too. He stepped back, a clear message for her to keep her handshakes to herself.

“This way.” He led her down the hall, past his office, and into the last one in the back corner of the trailer. It was where he’d discovered the discrepancies between his father’s bank accounts and the quarterly reports.

He’d never been so angry. So frustrated. So helpless. Not even when his tank platoon had been targeted in Kandahar and he’d lost four men in his company, been injured himself, and witnessed the more horrific things that fire did to human flesh. No, this betrayal ran deep, and it meant his parents couldn’t afford to retire anytime soon.

Squire had never felt the love of ranching the way his father had, and his father’s father before him. The ranch needed to stay in the family if his parents had any chance at surviving financially, which made it disappointing that Squire didn’t have an older brother.

But he understood duty, always had. Even though he wanted a different life, somewhere else, if his dad wanted to retire, Squire would do whatever he could to make the transition easier.

Kelly flipped on the light and entered her office. She’d lugged the files with her, and Squire considered taking them from her. What could it hurt?

But he knew what it would hurt. He’d worked too hard for too long to build those walls around his heart.

“Let me take those,” he said anyway, his voice much softer now that he was alone with her. She had to stretch up while he bent down, his forearm cradling hers, as she transferred the load to him.

She stumbled, her shoulder crashing into his ribcage. A grunt escaped his mouth, and she gasped. “I’m sorry.” She stepped back and tugged on the bottom of her jacket.

“It’s fine.” He moved to the desk, a definite limp in his step and a flush rising through his neck. He watched as she inspected the built-in filing cabinets, ran her finger along the blinds covering the single window, and tested out the chair behind her desk.

She finally looked at him. “I like it.”

“Great,” he said dryly. “It’s not like we’d change it if you didn’t.”

She gave him a withering look. “Come on. It’s me, Kelly.” She tried a smile, and he allowed himself to return it halfway.

He knew who she was. She was the girl who danced with his sister. Who slept over on the weekends. Who’d bewitched him so completely he’d convinced himself a senior would go to her prom with a sophomore. If she’d gone with someone else, he might’ve understood.

He shoved the sourness down his throat where it belonged.

While he hadn’t been this close to Kelly in years, the real prize she offered was solving the ranch’s financial problems. He couldn’t forget that.

He’d moved on with his life. So had she. She’d gone to college, gotten married, had a kid. And now a divorce.

He allowed himself to fully smile. Maybe she wasn’t out of his league anymore. She most definitely is, he corrected himself as he stepped closer to where she sat. “You still know any of your dance moves? Besides that pathetic high kick, of course.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “I’m sure I could choreograph something for you. Remember when I used to do that?”

“Yeah. You and Chelsea were so annoying.”

“I’m sure we were.” The glint in her eye spelled mischievous. “So do you make it a habit to leave helpless women trapped in your stairs?”

“You’re hardly helpless, darlin’.” Squire sat in the chair opposite of her desk with his arms crossed.

She busied herself with the files, shifting them around without really changing anything. “I also don’t remember you being such a scoundrel.” Though she’d moved away from Three Rivers, her Texas twang remained. He liked it, and wanted to hear her say his name in her pretty little voice.

“I don’t remember you wearing such high heels,” he shot back.

The silence lengthened between them, until Kelly asked, “How’s your mother?”

She hadn’t forgotten her Texas manners while she’d been gone. Squire would give her that. “She’s good. She’s given new definition to the word overbearing now that she knows how to text. But she’s good.”

Kelly leaned forward, and Squire caught a glimpse of her younger self, the girl he’d crushed on so long ago. “You don’t like your mother texting you? Why? It cramps your style while you’re out digging ditches?”

Squire could’ve sworn she was flirting with him, but the idea was ridiculous. She was coming off a messy divorce and had moved in with her parents. He’d heard what she’d said about moving halfway across the country alone. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, especially with her new boss.

“As a matter of fact,” he said. “It does. Digging ditches requires a lot of concentration. Texting is distracting.”

“Don’t dig and text.” The flirtatious sound of her voice wormed its way straight into his heart. He’d remembered a lot about her, but her voice had faded quickly. He realized now how much he liked listening to her talk. “That is so you.”

His pulse galloped, slowing to a trot as he leaned forward, like they might share something meaningful if they got just a little closer to each other.

Her phone chimed, and she jumped up. “That’s my alarm. I need to get back.” The playfulness and hope drained from her voice and face. She glanced up and smiled, but it had lost its savor. Squire watched the weight of real life descend on her, clouding the girl he’d once known.

“Can you help me get these to my car?” She indicated the folders.

“You don’t need to look at them tonight,” he said. “You start tomorrow. Look at them then.”

She blinked a couple of times, confusion racing through those beautiful eyes. “I’ll just take a couple folders.” She picked them up and stepped toward the door just as Squire did.

Close enough to feel the gentle heat from her skin, Squire found a flicker of fear in her expression. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, ask her what her ex had done to her to make her so nervous, demand to know how he could have changed her into someone other than the Kelly she’d been.

Instead, he said, “You really don’t need to take those. The ranch’ll still need your help tomorrow.” He moved into the hall ahead of her.

“Is it really that bad?” She joined him, her purse swinging between them.

“Just about.” Squire noticed the silence in the front of the trailer. The cowhands had gone out on their assignments for the day, leaving Clark alone at the controller’s desk.

“Miss Kelly,” Clark said, heavy on the cowboy accent as he handed her a manila folder. “If you fill these out and bring ‘em back tomorrow, I’ll get y’all on the payroll.”

Kelly grinned, tucked the folder into her purse along with the others, and thanked him. Clark barely acknowledged Squire, something he was used to. Clark knew everything about the ranch, from how to run it to how to let it run itself. If Squire was being honest, Clark should’ve taken over as foreman.

They both knew it, and it seemed like every other cowboy on the ranch did too. He had his work cut out for him to win over the staff and figure out how to manage something as vast as a cattle ranch. He’d tried some of the tactics he’d learned in the Army about taking over a company when the commander had been killed in action. But cowhands weren’t soldiers, and they hadn’t quite warmed to him the way his comrades in Afghanistan had. Squire had learned that men would trust him when he showed them they could.

He needed to do that at Three Rivers, but he hadn’t quite figured out how.

Kelly didn’t know any of his failures on the ranch, and she didn’t need to. He wouldn’t burden her with his unrealized dreams, permanent physical injuries, and financial troubles.

She removed her heels before stepping out of the admin building, and he had a momentary flash of him sweeping her off her feet and carrying her down the steps.

Longing lashed his internal organs like a whip. Thoughts like that were why he needed to put so much distance between them, why he needed to constantly remind himself of the duties he’d taken upon himself as ranch foreman. He had to find the missing money before he could even think about anything but the ranch.

“See you tomorrow.”

Squire focused, the fantasy of him and Kelly dissolving as he realized she’d already made her way down the stairs and to her car. She waved, and he watched her climb into her sedan and drive down the road, kicking up dust as she went.

He frowned at himself, needing a cattle gate on his emotions to keep them contained. He glanced toward the stables, wondering how he could possibly endure day after day with Kelly so close.

* * *

Squire went to the house instead of returning to his father’s office. He just couldn’t muster the energy to learn about fencing issues, the location of aquifers, or the schedule of selling and shipping the herd. He’d helped out on the ranch growing up, but only tending to the horses, riding the fence line, and weeding his mother’s massive vegetable garden.

When he’d gotten old enough to learn the business of ranching, he’d gone off to school and then the Army.

He found his mother in the kitchen, bent over a recipe. Squire couldn’t name how many times he’d seen her in that exact position. If she wasn’t cooking, she was gardening, cleaning, or sewing. He and Chelsea each had at least fifteen quilts to “start them off right” should either of them ever get married.

Thoughts of marriage blasted bitterness through his bloodstream—because thoughts of marriage conjured never-to-be images of him in a black tux while Kelly clutched his arm and wore a white dress.

“Squire,” his mom said, her voice sounding faint and far away. “You okay?”

He blinked his way out of the Kelly-induced fog. “Hmm? Yeah.”

“How’d the interview go?”

“Dad hired her.” He sat on a barstool to watch his mother cook.

“You’re not surprised, are you?”

Peace wafted over him whenever he sat at this counter and spoke with his mom. He smiled at her when she glanced up. “Kelly was the only applicant, and she does have a master’s degree in accounting.”

His mother pulled open the fridge and retrieved a package of ground beef and two green bell peppers. “You don’t sound happy about hiring her.”

“She has no experience,” Squire said, removing his cowboy hat and running his fingers through his hair. “She might be worse than Hector.”

His mother wielded her knife with precision as she split an onion in half. “That would be impossible.” She lit the stove and put a cast iron pan over the flame, her gaze sliding over Squire in that assessing way all mothers had. He knew she was looking for something, he just didn’t know if she’d found it.

“She’s…different,” he said, a well of unease pooling where his oxygen should be.

“So are you,” she pointed out. “Maybe it will work out this time.”

“Mom.” Exasperation roared and reared over his previous contentment. “There was no last time.”

She chopped and diced, drizzled olive oil into the hot skillet, and tossed all the vegetables in. They sizzled and jumped while she added the seasonings. “I know.”

Squire didn’t think she did. “I’m her boss. I can’t go, I don’t know, getting involved with my accountant.”

“Good point,” she said. “You couldn’t get involved with your sister’s best friend either. But sometimes God has a way of putting people right where they need to be, right when they need to be there.” She brandished her wooden spoon at him to enunciate her point.

“Sure, Mom.” Squire stood up before she splattered him with sautéed vegetables. He’d gone to church with his parents until he’d left for college. Then Sunday had become the only day to sleep in or get caught up on homework. His faith hadn’t dwindled, just his outward manifestation of it.

During his deployments, he’d attended services whenever he could. There was nothing like war to make a man question what he believed. Especially about where he might go after this life. Squire had given a fair amount of thought to the subject, and his belief that God was merciful and kind had been strengthened.

Squire returned to his cabin and changed into his workout clothes. Maybe God could make sure his weight training drove Kelly from his mind completely, though all of his previous pleas to this same end had gone unanswered.