The Rancher's Twins. Carol Ross

The Rancher's Twins - Carol  Ross


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interrupted as he approached, “She’s not giving you a dime, JT, or anything else for that matter.” He stopped a few feet away. “Now, I’m going to make the following suggestion one time and one time only. Back off and remove your finger from the vicinity of Katie’s face or I promise you I will break it off and a couple more appendages, too, for good measure.”

      JT shot an irritated glance in his direction. “Leave it be, Jon. This isn’t your business.”

      “That was your warning.” Jon removed his hat and set it on a fence post off to the side. “Katie, call 911.” He took a step toward JT. Trout let out a growl. Katie’s cattle dog, Hip, joined in.

      JT jumped back, hands raised, palms up in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, now, there’s no need for violence. I’m just here to collect what’s owed me.”

      Jon settled the hat back on his head and asked, “And what is that exactly?”

      “Three hundred and eighty-five dollars.”

      “Katie owes you three hundred and eighty-five dollars?” Jon repeated skeptically.

      “Big E owes it to me.”

      Jon looked at a scowling Katie. “Katie?”

      She sighed. “He’s owed something, but I doubt Big E would pay him the full amount. He was supposed to dig post holes and put up fencing for the pigpen, but he’s only done maybe half the work.”

      Pigs? The Blackwell Ranch didn’t raise pigs, but that question could wait. Jon wasn’t about to air ranch business in front of JT.

      “All right. Let’s go have a look at the pen.”

      A few minutes later, Jon could see Katie was right, and he said as much. JT claimed that Big E often paid him before work was complete. “Like a draw,” he argued.

      “Big E might operate that way, but I don’t.”

      “But I’m telling you, Big E does. We have a deal.”

      “Do you see Big E here?” Lifting an arm, Jon swept it around for effect. “I’ll pay you what you’re owed for what you’ve done and then you’re not to step foot back on this land until you’re invited by a Blackwell or by Katie. Is that clear?” Jon pulled out his wallet and handed over 150 dollars.

      JT counted out the bills and then stuffed them into his pants pocket. Then he smirked at Katie. “You can invite me anytime, sugar.”

      “JT, I wouldn’t invite you to scrape manure off my boots. Now, get out of here.”

      Jon and Katie watched him head to his pickup and climb inside.

      Jon slid a glance at Katie. “Pigs?”

      “Zoe says they will add ‘atmosphere’ to the guest ranch.”

      “Does she have any idea how much pigs stink?”

      Katie belted out a laugh. “Daddy said the same thing.”

      “Your daddy is a smart man. Big E is okay with this?”

      “Yes, he is. Pigs are only one small part of this project. It’s going to be a petting zoo.”

      “A petting zoo?” Jon repeated, not bothering to hide his disdain.

      Shrugging, she said, “It’s not the worst idea she’s had. The tourists will love it.”

      “I will refrain from commenting.”

      “Probably best.” She flashed him a grin. “We all know your opinions on guest ranching.”

      On that point, he and Ethan agreed. Unfortunately, ranching was a tough way to make a living. Most every beef rancher he knew supplemented their income in one way or another. In addition to the horse-breeding operation Katie oversaw, his grandfather had expanded into guest ranching. Zach raised horses. Jon did consulting work for ranchers seeking to go “green” and wrote articles on the topic for Organic Beef Newsletter and other ranching magazines. Occasionally, he taught a class or gave a workshop.

      In a few weeks when calving season ended, a journalist and a TV crew from a national cable show were coming to interview him for a segment on organic-beef ranching. When they’d contacted him, he’d been reluctant. He hadn’t been thrilled about the notion of having his face and life splashed all over TV. Then Bethany Stouffer had called him herself and assured Jon they’d “work together to raise awareness for the industry and shine a favorable light on grass-fed beef.” He’d accepted.

      Katie pointed her chin toward JT’s pickup crawling along the gravel drive. “Thank you for that. Normally I’d be irritated with you for coming to my rescue, taking care of myself and all that, but with everything going on I’m just glad it’s done. I was running out of patience.”

      “I know it. And I know you can handle yourself fine. That guy rubs me the wrong way.”

      “JT is harmless. I heard he lost a pile of cash gambling the other night. I think he’s a little stressed.”

      “It’s possible I may be wound a little too tight myself at the moment.”

      Katie frowned. “Everything okay?”

      No, he wanted to say, thinking about his nanny dilemma. But he didn’t. Jon wasn’t one to talk about personal matters. He certainly didn’t want to burden Katie when she had a slew of her own ranch-related concerns. “Oh, you know, same as you. Too much to do, not enough time.”

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