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His sister had been right. He might need water, but he needed his neighbor even more. Lori was the smartest person he knew, and one of the most capable ranchers in the area as well. If he shared the water, she'd help him. She had to. He was desperate, and underneath her frustration with him, she was a generous person.

And maybe desperation was just what he needed to push him through the anxiety. To get him to finally say the things he should have already. Things like
I'm sorry.
And
I wish I'd acted differently
. “Yeah, I know someone,” he told the vet.

“Great. Have him get over here as soon as possible. You'll need an extra hand.”

Funny how the vet immediately assumed that Wade was talking about a guy. Lori probably had to be extra tough, trying to make it in a profession so dominated by men. Which would help explain why she'd been so tough with him over the water. Though he'd also been an insensitive, scared jerk. That would probably explain it better.

He remembered, suddenly, being a kid at school. How he'd almost never had a lunch with him. How Lori had always offered to share hers. She'd fed him just about every day for years. And then he'd turned his back on her when she came to him about the water? What the hell was wrong with him? How had he started making all of his decisions out of fear?

He turned to the doctor with a new resolve. “I've got someone I need to apologize to. And if I do it right, I hope she'll give me a hand around here.
She's
the best rancher I know.”

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

J
IM
WALKED
OUT
of the barn with a cardboard shipping box and dropped it in the dirt at Lori's feet. She stepped back as a small dust cloud rose up.

“What
are
these contraptions?” Jim reached down and pulled out a yellow plastic crescent, holding it gingerly between two fingers.

Lori grinned at the ranch manager. “They're the calf weaners I was telling you about.” She grabbed one and held it up for him to see. “This part hooks into the calf's nostrils. Then it can't nurse.”

“Do you really think we need 'em?” Jim flexed the plastic between his gnarled fingers. “When your dad was here, we kept it simple. Cows in one pasture, calves in another. Split 'em up fast and got it over with. We didn't need these crazy-looking nose flaps.”

Was it worth arguing? The last thing she wanted was Jim feeling like he'd been wrong all those years. “Ah, come on, Jim, they'll look cute!”

Jim shook his head and tossed the weaner back into the box. Lori studied his weathered face. Beneath his resistance she saw all his old kindness there. He wasn't trying to undermine her. He was just having trouble with change.

“The way you and Dad did it worked fine,” she reassured him. “But there've been some studies lately, proving that stress during weaning is bad for cattle. They lose weight. Calves get sick.”

Jim shuffled the heel of his boot in the dust. “I don't know what scientists have to do with ranching.”

“With a weaner in place, a calf can't nurse, so it can stay with its mom while it weans. That keeps it calm when it suddenly can't drink milk. And since we won't separate the calves from their moms until
after
they're weaned, they don't fuss nearly as much once they're apart.”

“They've always gotten over it pretty quick.” He gave her a stubborn glare.

“Have they?” Lori tamped down her frustration and walked with Jim over to the fence where Dakota was tied. She pulled the strap on the mare's cinch tight, looping the extra leather into a knot.

“The calves do a lot of bawling and pacing during weaning,” she reminded Jim gently. She untied Dakota and reached for the reins, slipping her boot into the stirrup. She was heading out to take a look at some of the weeds coming up in one of their eastern pastures. With the drought, more unwelcome plants were taking root.

Jim nodded slightly. “Well, sure, there was some of that.”

From up on her mare's back, Lori tried one more time. “Last year Dad and I went to Reno for that seminar on calm cattle management, remember? This is the kind of stuff we learned. By making a less stressful environment for the cows and calves, we improve their well-being. And lower our workload and raise our profits.”

A snide voice interrupted their conversation. “Why don't you just light them some nice candles and give 'em a massage?”

F off.
Lori bit her lip to keep from saying it out loud. Seth Garner was such a jerk. She hadn't realized he'd been listening in.

The ranch hand sauntered over from where he'd been loading hay into a truck. He was smiling, but his face didn't hold the same kindness as Jim's. She'd never liked him much, but ever since she'd taken over the ranch, Seth had been grumbling about taking orders from a woman. Lori wondered if he lay awake nights, thinking of new ways to undermine her. He certainly was inventive about it.

He glanced at his watch as if noting the lost time between his quip and her answer. Lori swallowed. Why should she be nervous? This was
her
ranch. She saw Jim wink at her and remembered his advice from the other day. Dish it right back.

“Don't you have work to do?” She drew herself up extra tall in the saddle.

“I was just doing some work.” Seth leaned against the rail, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs casually. “Following my boss lady's orders and loading that truck over there with hay.”

Boss lady.
The words dripped with sarcasm and puddled like murky water. Lori backed Dakota up a few paces so she could see Seth's face under his hat. She met the challenge in his eyes, but forced her voice into a tone way sweeter than she felt right now. “Well, thanks for getting that done. Now, I'm pretty sure they could use an extra hand cleaning up the floor over at the white barn. Since you're taking the hay down there anyway, why don't you take a shovel with you? You can stay and help them out.”

Seth's cheeks paled except for some flecks of red on his cheekbones. “That's not my job.”

“It's fall, Seth. We have a lot to get done this time of year and we've all got to do our part. Plus, I
am
your boss lady. So you'd best get started.”

Seth's eyes bugged, and he stared at her, stuck without a snide comeback for once.

She turned Dakota to go, but Jim's soft voice had her pausing.

“Well done, there, Lori.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

Jim picked up the box of calf weaners. “I'll just get started putting these on,” he told her, his voice louder than usual, so Seth could hear. “Seems like weaning is gonna go a lot easier with you at the helm.” He shot her a wink that Seth couldn't see.

Bless Jim. He might grumble and question the decisions she made in private, but he'd support her 100 percent in front of the others.

“I appreciate that, Jim,” she said. “I'll be back to help out in a few minutes.” She didn't have to look at Seth to know he was scowling. And that she'd scored her first real win in her struggle to take the reins of Lone Mountain Ranch.

She turned to go and spotted Wade leaning on the fence near the white barn, watching her intently. The last time they'd seen each other, she'd been yelling. Now he'd seen her go head-to-head with Seth. Well, at least he wouldn't have any illusions that she was the sweet young girl he'd left behind. She walked Dakota over to him, bracing herself for whatever their next confrontation would be.

He was wearing that old straw cowboy hat that made his dark eyes even more impenetrable in the shadows beneath the brim.

“Looks like you showed him.”

She glanced at Seth, slouching back to his truck, radiating a bad attitude that she could feel from here. “I hope I didn't upset him
too
badly. He's just been giving me such a hard time. But now he looks angrier than ever.”

“Hey, it's your ranch. Run it how you want. If he hates it, he'll leave and go work somewhere else, and you'll both be better off.”

“That would be awesome. He hates having a
boss lady
, as he calls me.”

Wade grimaced. “Well, keep an eye on him. If he doesn't come on board soon, fire him.”

He seemed to come in peace, at least. So she teased him a little. “Listen to you, all managerial.”

“I learned a thing or two leading a platoon.” He sobered, took off his hat and looked right into her eyes. “But evidently I don't know much about being a good neighbor. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted about the water. I just needed time. And honestly, I was scared.”

“Scared?” He'd always seemed so tough. It had never occurred to her that he was even familiar with that emotion. “What are you scared of?”

“Failing. I don't know what I'm doing with the ranch, and it makes me too careful about certain things and not careful enough about others. So with the water, I just balked. I didn't want to make a mistake that could cost me the ranch.”

“Well, I know
that
feeling. Too well.”

His mouth softened into a brief smile. “But I've realized that you were right. We should share the water.”

Relief relaxed muscles she hadn't even realized she was tensing. She wanted to raise a fist and shout
hooray
, but she kept herself calm. “That's great news. Thank you.”

“And I brought you something.” He pulled a carrot out of his back pocket, the greens still on it, and held it up like a bouquet. “I would have brought apology flowers, but I knew you'd be working and there wouldn't be any place for them. This seemed better.”

“It's perfect.” He understood her, and it warmed her a little inside. She turned Dakota sideways and reached for the carrot, shoving it in the back pocket of her jeans. “I'll share it with Dakota later on, if that's okay.”

“That's the idea.”

It was her turn to apologize. Her horrible words had been eating at her ever since she'd stormed off his ranch. “I'm sorry I said so many rude things.”

“I reckon I deserved it.”

“Maybe a little...” She couldn't resist.

He acknowledged the teasing with a brief smile and rushed on. “But I hope you can help me with something.”

“What do you need?”

He flushed a little. Swallowed hard. “Look, I'm new at this ranching thing. I mean, growing up, we had animals pass through, but mainly my dad was stealing them from one person and selling them to another, so they never stayed around long. I have no idea what I'm doing. Seeing your ranch running so smoothly... How do you do it?”

Wade asking her for ranching tips? Not what she'd expected when she'd seen him standing there. “Well, part of it is that I've been doing it forever and I studied it in school, and part of it is that I've been trying out some new management practices. As you can see—” she inclined her head slightly to where a group of men were standing around Jim with bemused expressions on their faces “—it's going over
really
well with the staff.” Sarcasm couldn't mask her frustration.

“They may give you grief about it, but I'd bet deep down most of them are pretty impressed.”

She swung down from Dakota, since evidently Wade was here for a long chat, and tossed the reins over the mare's neck so she could go get a drink at the trough. “I hope you're right. Those are calf weaners they're holding. Calves weaned with this method retain thirty percent more body weight because they're not panicked and pacing everywhere.” Wade was staring at her, mouth slightly open, looking stunned. She flushed, realizing she'd probably stupefied him with her love of data. “I'm sorry. I can go on about this kind of thing for hours.”

To her surprise, he smiled. A first since she'd seen him again. Dimples cutting into his stubbled cheeks, lines crinkling his dark eyes—it was all as knee weakening as she remembered.

“That's exactly why I need your help,” he said.

She studied his eyes, trying to understand his meaning. Bad idea. They were too much for her—all dark and potent like strong coffee. Only they made her a lot more jittery than coffee did. “
My
help?”

“I know you've been angry at me. And for good reason. I shouldn't have dug my heels in about the water. And now here I am, asking for...” He paused, turning his hat in his hand. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, but she could hear the edge in it. “Honestly, I'm desperate. I need to learn about ranching. When I got my first bunch of heifers a few months ago, I didn't know they'd need a booster vaccine...”

“...and they've got respiratory illness,” she finished for him.

His eyes went wider. “You know your stuff. But I don't. The vet showed me how to give them shots, but it's just not going that smoothly. I was hoping you'd consider coming by and giving me a hand.”

He was in trouble if he didn't know how to do such a basic task. But
help
him? As in, spend time with him? Lori turned to retrieve Dakota, who'd finished drinking and was starting to wander off, gathering her thoughts as she gathered the horse's reins. She wanted to be someone who helped her neighbors, but working with Wade wasn't a good idea.

“Look, if you can help me, I'll give you first pick when we make our irrigation schedule. I'll hire Bill Cooper, and you can set everything up with him so it suits your needs. But in exchange, I'm asking for your help. Teach me how to give the shots. How to handle the cattle well. I'm reading books all the time, but I have so many questions, so many gaps in what I know. I need a mentor, Lori. I need you.”

Damn him, he made begging look noble—and sexy. And when he added first priority on irrigation to the mix...well, how was she supposed to resist? But mentoring meant
a lot
more time together. “I don't know, Wade. I'm happy to help out with the injections, but I'm new at running my own ranch. I honestly don't have much time. Isn't there someone else you can ask?”

“Who's going to want to mentor a Hoffman?”

There was pain and truth behind his words. She looked at him for a long moment. What he was proposing was dangerous. To her heart, to the regrets she tried hard to lock away so they wouldn't overwhelm her. But he was trying to make something of himself. Trying to prove himself. She understood that. She was
living
that.

“All right. We'll try it.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, relief written stark across his face. “I promise I'll take as little of your time as possible.”

He reached over the fence and put a light hand on her shoulder. “I'm truly grateful, Lori.”

He was looking at her like she was his guardian angel. His salvation. And then the reality of this, of
them
, tensed every muscle. How would he look at her if he knew what she'd done? With hatred? Disgust? Pity? Certainly not like this. “No problem,” she muttered through clenched teeth. Ducking out from under his hand, she turned, put her foot into Dakota's stirrup and swung onto the mare's back. “I'd better get going. I'll come by later today.”

He was studying her face, obviously puzzled by her sudden change in mood. Well, let him wonder. When you slept with someone and then disappeared, you lost your right to explanations.