course,” Tara replied. “Do you also want me to set up a system where bills can be paid online and checks can be printed?”
“Online?” Walt asked.
“Through the internet.”
How anyone could be unfamiliar with the concept, Josh didn’t know, but he suspected Tara was speaking a foreign language as far as his grandfather was concerned. Josh would have lunged forward with an emphatic yes, but something in her eyes kept him quiet. She’d aligned herself with Walt and would find a way to do things his way, even on the computer. When the time came, Josh was sure he’d have to do a lot of extra work getting things changed to the way he wanted.
“Is that how other ranches do business?” Walt asked.
“I can’t speak for other ranches,” Tara said, “but I’ve seen how much time the process saves.”
“Okay, do it. Get whatever you need for that inter...online thing.”
“Well, it’s not quite that simple...”
Behind Walt’s back, Josh shook his head and gave her an intense glare, to which she only raised an eyebrow.
“You have to have internet service here at the office,” she explained to Walt, “along with a computer, of course.”
“Get whatever you need.”
“All right.”
He limped out, and Josh smiled blandly at Tara. “I already told you that, as the owner, I will make the arrangements for whatever is required here at the office.”
“Certainly.” She returned his smile with one as carefully bland as his own.
He’d always preferred women who were more easygoing, so why did this chilly cucumber make him so aware of her?
“Why didn’t you want me to explain the internet to Walt?” she asked.
“Because he’s an old-time cattleman and doesn’t understand.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t understand, provided the people around him don’t treat him as a senile old man. Or as a child, for that matter. He’s obviously still sharp.”
“I’m not treating him that way.”
“Ha.” She shrugged, and he glanced away, not wanting to watch the movement of the soft fabric of her blouse.
“Incidentally,” he said, “you might find jeans and a T-shirt more practical on the Boxing N than silk.”
“Thank you so much for the advice,” she returned with an edge of sarcasm. It was probably deserved; he didn’t have any business suggesting what sort of clothing she should wear.
“Just leave the nonoffice items near the door,” he said. “I’ll get them out of your way later.”
“If that’s what Walt wants me to do.”
Seething with anger, Josh left. At least he was going to get the office and accounts computerized, but he wasn’t sure if he’d won or lost the latest skirmish. He didn’t even know if winning and losing was the point. If he won, then his grandfather lost. But if things didn’t get into shape soon, his reputation would suffer, and the ranch might be hard to keep going.
Josh’s trust fund was generous, but he’d quietly used some of it to pay his grandparents’ medical bills not covered by insurance. There was also the question of gift taxes on the Boxing N, which he fully expected to pay instead of his grandfather. The remaining principal, while substantial, couldn’t support a failing proposition forever.
* * *
LAUREN MOVED FROM one patient to another as quickly as possible. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up behind schedule, and that wasn’t fair to Tara—her sister was cutting her first day at the Boxing N short so they could spend the afternoon together. They had planned to do it the previous Friday, but the other physician’s assistant had called, asking her to trade shifts because his wife was ill.
Her nerves were on edge for fear that Carl might stop by again. It was ironic, because she’d enjoyed her date with him even more than the first ones. After dinner, they’d walked along the river while the sun dropped low in the sky and cast a rosy light over the landscape.
When she’d described the setting to Tara, her sister had made a dry comment about Carl devising the ideal romantic moment, only to quickly apologize. They hadn’t discussed men that much, but Lauren suspected that neither of them had a stellar record.
“I heard that you and Sheriff Stanfield went out this weekend,” Ethel Carter commented as Lauren took her blood pressure.
The nurse had taken it earlier, but the first check was always high. Mrs. Carter got stressed when she walked into the clinic, a case of white-coat syndrome, as it was called. Some medical professionals discounted the condition, but Lauren was a believer.
“Where did you hear that?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Virginia was at the senior center exercise group this morning. Her daughter lives in Windy Bluffs and saw you at the Mexican restaurant. It’s nice that you’re still going out together.”
Great. Gossip was the last thing Lauren needed. Emily had warned her when she’d moved to Schuyler that it was the most popular form of entertainment in town.
“We’re friends,” Lauren said as though it didn’t matter very much. It was true. She and Carl were friends. “Are you taking your blood pressure medicine every day?”
“Whenever I remember.”
“It’s important to be consistent, okay? We can talk about ways to make that easier at your next appointment.”
“Of course, dear. Did you and the sheriff have a nice evening together?”
“La Bonita is a terrific restaurant, and their fresh salsa is fantastic. I’m going to take my sister there soon.”
Ethel looked disappointed and might have tried probing further, but Lauren patted her shoulder and handed over several prescription refills.
“Keep up the exercise,” she instructed. “It’s obviously doing you good.”
Ethel’s face creased into a smile. “I only started because you kept urging me to try. I do feel better. The arthritis doesn’t hurt as much, and I have more energy.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Lauren went on to her next patient, hoping she wouldn’t have to field more questions about her and Carl Stanfield. It could get really old, really fast.
* * *
TARA SPENT THE remainder of the morning cleaning out the rest of the file cabinets and emptying cupboards of equipment that had nothing to do with office work. Most of it couldn’t have been used in decades, and she couldn’t even tell what some items were. She recognized spurs, of course, and rusted samples of barbed wire. The rest was pretty strange, reminiscent of medieval torture implements
