An Unlikely Rancher. Roz Fox Denny

a new air conditioner. I want Beezer to stay with us forever.”

      “That’s not even a remote possibility. And Mr. Flynn needs his privacy while he’s at our house. Understood?”

      “What’s pri...va...cy?” Andee dragged out the word.

      Jenna slowed to turn off the highway onto their lane. She didn’t answer at once, because suddenly, talking about inviting a man she hardly knew to move into the house with them gave her pause. What did she really know about him?

      “Mommy? You didn’t answer.”

      She stopped outside the house and turned around. “Privacy means leaving someone alone.”

      Andee scowled at her from between stuffed-animal ears.

      Jenna recognized the stubborn streak she’d run up against before. “The upstairs is off-limits to us. Just like Auntie Melody and Uncle Rob’s bedroom suite was when we lived with them.”

      “They didn’t have a dog. I bet Beezer will want to come down and play with me.”

      So much hopefulness shone through that statement, Jenna sighed and gathered up her purse. Andee had weathered so many disruptions in her life of late, Jenna felt guilty for that.

      Maybe the bank would grant her a loan tomorrow and Flynn Sutton and his dog would be gone within the week.

      “Let’s go in. I’ll fix spaghetti and a salad for dinner. How’s that?”

      Andee tried to hold on to her frown, but spaghetti was her favorite and she shot inside. Jenna employed bribes judiciously, but this was one time she didn’t feel bad about in the least.

      As Jenna prepared the meal, she took a moment to phone Oscar Martin in Hawaii.

      “Mr. Martin, this is Jenna Wood. I bought your property in New Mexico.”

      “Right. How are you getting along? I hope my notes make sense.”

      “They’re very detailed. Thank you. I hadn’t realized you would already be gone when I arrived—that was a bit of a surprise.”

      “Yeah, about that. I should’ve let you know, sorry, but I had an opportunity come up that...wouldn’t wait. Couldn’t have really told you much more about the birds than are in those notes, though.”

      “It’s...fine. We’ll figure it out. I’m afraid I had to let your manager go, which hasn’t helped matters.”

      “What? What did he do this time?”

      “This time? So he’s... Never mind. He’s gone now. He demanded more money, which I didn’t have to pay him. Got a little heavy-handed about it, and I’m relieved to be rid of him.”

      “Well, he always did have a temper.”

      “I’m calling because my daughter would like to get a dog. Do you know if that poses a problem for the birds?”

      “Well, I never had one. But lots of times folks driving past on the highway stopped in to see the birds—ostriches aren’t your everyday sight in New Mexico—and often they had kids and dogs. Little yappers disturbed the birds. I think I put in the notes that noises give them a fright. I suppose there are dogs that don’t bark much.”

      “Yes,” Jenna murmured, her thoughts on a big, lumpy dog that barked whenever he saw Andee and airplanes that swooped overhead. “Well, thank you for sparing the time to chat with me. I hope you’re enjoying retirement.”

      “Living by the ocean is great. I do miss the ranch, though. You enjoy the place. And sorry Winkleman didn’t work out. Don’t hesitate to call if you have other questions.”

      Certainly some surged to the fore. But they were all impossible for the man to help with from so far away. “Thanks.”

      Jenna hung up after he said goodbye.

      She guessed she’d see how much Beezer barked.

      * * *

      JENNA SAT AT the kitchen table after dinner studying Oscar Martin’s notes. Andee sat across the table putting together her second puzzle.

      “I don’t know, Andee,” Jenna said for the umpteenth time. “Relax. Beezer and Flynn will get here when they get here.”

      “That doesn’t say when. Where will the hands on the clock be when they come?”

      Her uncle Rob had begun teaching Andee how to tell time. She did pretty well for six, Jenna thought, glancing up at the cat-shaped kitchen clock. “Can you tell me what time it is now?”

      “Um. The little hand is on seven. And the big hand is on six,” Andee said, pointing. “I don’t get the between numbers. It’s after seven, but it’s before my bedtime.”

      Jenna was about to explain again how the minutes worked when she heard a vehicle pull to a stop outside.

      Andee saw the splash of headlights on the wall. “It’s them. They’re here. They’re here!” she shouted, scrambling off her chair to dash and open the door.

      “Wait!” Jenna jumped up, spilling her coffee and almost knocking over her chair. “Andee, we need to look out the window to see who’s coming before we open the door.”

      Andee blinked. “Who else would come? We don’t know anybody here ’cept Flynn and Beezer.”

      By now Beezer had both paws on Andee’s shoulders and was licking her face. The girl giggled and the sound swept aside most of Jenna’s lingering reservations.

      “Do you need help bringing in your stuff?” she called to the man sliding two boxes and a large canvas duffel bag over the tailgate of his canopied pickup bed.

      “I’ve got it, but thanks. One box stays in the kitchen. The other has Beezer’s food and bowls. You decide if you want those to go upstairs. The duffel goes to wherever I’ll be...uh, living.”

      “There’s a laundry room off the kitchen. It has a tiled floor and a back door leading outside. I assume you take Beezer out after he eats and drinks. That would be handiest. But the upstairs bath is also tiled.”

      “If Beezer ate down here, I could help feed him,” Andee piped up.

      “Shh, honey. It’s up to his owner.”

      Flynn staggered in juggling the duffel and boxes. He adroitly stepped around the girl and dog while also avoiding contact with Jenna, who held open the screen door. “The top box is my groceries,” he said. “A few items need refrigeration. Just set the box on the counter if you will. I’ll unpack it after I store my other stuff.”

      Jenna relieved him of the top box. Even though he said he’d unpack it, she took out the items that sat on top, making room in the fridge on a lower shelf. As she shut the door, she realized Andee and the dog had begun to chase after a well-chewed rubber ball that Beezer must have carried inside.

      “Sorry,” Flynn said. “That’s his outside toy.”

      “Isn’t Beezer smart?” Andee squealed. “He can catch the ball when it bounces high.”

      “Did you hear Mr. Sutton say that isn’t an indoor toy?”

      “Hey, if we’re gonna all live under one roof, you’ve gotta call me Flynn. Otherwise I’ll always be looking around for my dad.”

      His cell phone rang. He set down the items he held to take out his phone. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered. “Excuse me a minute. Although it’s gonna be my mom calling, not my dad.”

      Spinning to present his back to Jenna, he put the phone to his ear. “’Lo, Mom. I knew it was you...Uh, that’s my landlady’s little girl. She’s playing with Beezer. Can I call you back later?...What? No...You’ve totally misunderstood. I’m not moving in with my landlady...Well, I am, but my room is upstairs. Just bringing in my gear.”

      Jenna