The Rancher and the Girl Next Door. Jeannie Watt

motionless, but then it came back to life and slithered off into the grass.

      From behind him, Brett heard Claire sigh with relief. He turned to give her an incredulous look.

      “Just because I don’t want it living with me doesn’t mean I want it to get hurt.”

      Brett closed the door. Sweat beaded his forehead, and it wasn’t entirely due to the hellishly hot interior of the trailer. He set the broom back against the wall, noticing that it was damp. He touched the surface again, experimentally, with the palm of his hand. She’d washed the walls.

      “Are you some kind of germophobe?” he asked as he pushed the door wide to let out both the heat and the cleaning fumes. She had the windows open, but the air was still in the heavy pre-thunderstorm atmosphere.

      “I prefer it to ophidiophobia.”

      “Ophidio…”

      “Fear of—”

      “I know what it is,” he snapped. Or at least he could make a good guess. He hadn’t realized it was that obvious. “I’m not afraid of snakes. I’m just cautious.” Like all sensible Nevadans. He wiped his sleeve over his damp forehead. “Why don’t you turn the cooler on?”

      “It made a funny noise, like it was losing a bearing.” Her green eyes were steady on his. “I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I’d find out who the local handyman was.”

      Brett walked over to the cooler panel and flipped the pump switch, followed by the blower switch. A low screech became progressively louder as the blower wheel began to turn. He quickly snapped both switches off. Yes, it did sound like a bearing was going, and for some reason he hated the fact she had figured that out.

      “I’ll have a look at it.” He could not leave her in a hotbox until Manny Fernandez had time to come round and fix the cooler. She’d likely be using the furnace by that time—which was also probably in need of repair.

      “I don’t suppose you have any tools?”

      She walked into the kitchen and returned a few seconds later with a zebra-striped tool kit.

      “It was a gift,” she said before he had time to comment. “From the class I student—taught last year.”

      Brett felt an unexpected desire to smile at the defensiveness in her voice. So Claire’s fashion sense had its limits. “They must have liked you.”

      “We…developed a rapport,” she said cryptically, as she followed him outside.

      There was an old wooden ladder lying beside the trailer, and Brett propped it up against the siding. A sudden gust of wind almost knocked it over again. He waited a moment until the wind settled down, making the air seem heavier than before, and then he began to climb.

      Swamp coolers were not complex machines, and it wasn’t too difficult to tell that this one was on its last legs. Claire was in for a warmish time in her trailer. He’d have to see about ordering parts, if they still made them for this dinosaur.

      The ladder shifted, and a moment later Claire climbed up onto the roof herself. Somehow he wasn’t surprised.

      “Another snake?” he asked wryly.

      “Just curious. Someday I may have to fix this thing myself.”

      “You going to be here that long?”

      “Ten months, and then back to grad school. What’s the prognosis?” she asked.

      “Terminal.” The wind gusted again and the first faint rumblings of thunder sounded in the distance. The storm was moving in fast. “We’d better get down to the ground.” He closed the cooler’s heavy hinged cover.

      Once they were back on solid earth, Brett put the ladder beside the trailer and handed Claire her tools. “I’m going to Wesley tomorrow. I’ll see about getting some parts, if they still make them. If not, I’ll see about a new cooler.” He felt bad leaving her in an oven. “It’s going to be kind of hot without it.”

      “That’s the beauty of being a Vegas native. I’m used to it.” She pushed her choppy bangs away from her forehead. They stuck up, giving her a punk rock look. She smiled. “So…You want to go down to the bar and grab a bite or have a drink? As a thank-you?”

      He hesitated just a little too long.

      “I take it that’s a no.”

      He wasn’t sure how to say what he needed to without being insulting and possibly pissing off his brother for not being nice to Claire. “Look,” Brett said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone, “I’ll help you out whenever you need it, but I’m not much of a socializer.”

      “What does that mean?”

      That I’m not going to risk screwing up again with someone so closely tied to my brother?

      “It just means I’m not much on socializing,” he said with a touch of impatience. “It’s nothing personal.” Not the total truth, but close enough.

      “All right.” She didn’t look particularly offended, but the smile was gone from her eyes. “I guess I’ll get back to work. Thanks for the help. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She started for the trailer door.

      “There’s something you should know, Claire.”

      She looked back. “What’s that?”

      “I don’t think it was an accident that there was a snake in your house. There was a bunch of kids hanging around, just before you got here. I went to see what they were doing, and they took off running.”

      “You think they were my students?”

      “I’d say it’s a real possibility.”

      Claire considered his words for a moment. “Should make for an interesting year, don’t you think?”

      “Uh, yeah.” That was one way of putting it.

      “I think I can probably handle anything they might dish out.” She sounded confident.

      Brett nodded, wondering if she knew what she was up against. Apparently not. There was a flash of lightning, followed by thunder. “I think I’ll head back before it rains.”

      SO HER STUDENTS HAD PUT a snake in her house and Brett didn’t want to socialize with her. Claire shook her head as she went through the door. Not exactly a welcoming beginning to her new life in Barlow Ridge. She was surprised about her students, and not so surprised about Brett. She’d only met him three times before deciding to take the teaching job here, but every time they’d been together she’d been struck by his standoffish attitude. With her and with his family.

      Well, Claire didn’t do standoffish. With the exception of her mother, Arlene, who could still make her quake in her boots, she’d never met anyone who intimidated her. Maybe she should thank her mother for that.

      The trailer was starting to cool off as the wind grew stronger, blowing in through the open windows. Another flash of lightning lit the sky, and Claire wondered how safe it was being in a metal can during a thunderstorm. It had to be safe, though. There were lots of trailers in the world and she’d never heard of one being struck by lightning. But leave it to her to be the first.

      She sank down in the reclining chair, pulling her knees up to her chest as the sky flashed and a blast of thunder shook the trailer almost simultaneously. This was not only her first night alone in her new home, it was one of her first nights really alone anywhere. As in, no family down the hall, no neighbor on the other side of the wall. No neighbors within a quarter of a mile, for that matter.

      It felt…strange.

      But she could handle it.

      In fact, she had a feeling that she might even grow to like it. If not, she only had ten months to get through before she moved back to Vegas.

      Her cell phone buzzed.