moment his sister clasped AJ’s hand with both of hers, Travis knew he was in trouble.
“We’re family at Big Heart Ranch,” Emma chimed in as she, too, stood.
Travis grimaced and slowly got to his feet. He offered a nod of acknowledgment without meeting AJ’s gaze.
“We’ll be in touch by the end of the week,” Lucy said.
Travis shoved his hands in his pockets and paced across the conference room as the tap-tap-tap of heels on the vinyl floor echoed down the hall, followed by the whoosh of the big glass doors as they closed behind AJ Rowe.
“I like her,” Emma said. “She’ll fit right in. The woman has great ideas, too. We could use a little shake-up around here.”
“Lucy marrying Jack Harris last year wasn’t enough of a shake-up for you?” Travis asked.
“Look where that got us.” Emma wrapped an arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “Jack has provided the impetus for the new retreat center and both Lucy and I have our very own personal assistants.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes at Travis. “I can’t see any downside to hiring AJ.”
“Maybe we should vote,” Emma suggested.
“No voting required,” Travis said. “I’m the guy who has to work with the candidate we hire. I get to make the decision.”
“Clearly you have forgotten that all three of us own Big Heart Ranch,” Lucy said.
“She omitted information from her résumé,” Travis said.
“Information that would have only made her an even more impressive candidate for the job,” Lucy returned.
“Come on, Travis,” Emma said. “She omitted the information to offset bias. I get that.”
“I don’t need an assistant who can’t do the job.”
“You don’t know she can’t do the job,” Lucy said. “Even you have to admit that her résumé is better than Zeb Turner’s.”
Emma nodded. “The woman can ride. She was raised on ranches and has the education, plus the experience, for the position.”
“But can she handle the ranch hands?” he asked.
“I think AJ Rowe can probably do anything she sets her mind to,” Emma murmured.
Travis stared his youngest sister down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lucy sat back down and moved the folders on the table into a neat stack. “It means we want to hire AJ.”
“I don’t think you two understand what’s on the line here. I’ve got a little less than ninety days to launch the cattle management program and submit evidence of a successfully implemented plan to the Oklahoma Ranchers and Farmers Grant Program. I can’t afford to hire the wrong person.”
“Travis, that grant is offered every year. There’s no pressing deadline. Sure, we’d like to launch the program, but everything is God’s timing.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not going to let it go now. You don’t understand how much this project means to me.”
“Oh, we understand.” Lucy’s gaze moved from Emma and then back to him.
“This isn’t like you, Trav,” Emma said. “Are you sure this is just about the grant? Or do you have another issue?”
“I don’t have any issues.”
“Terrific,” Lucy said with a nod. “Then it’s settled. You know, I think AJ Rowe is going to be a game changer around here.”
Yeah, that’s exactly what he was worried about. He liked things the way they were. He’d moved past the uncertainty of his childhood and the shattered promise of what he thought was forever love, to life at Big Heart Ranch. With the upcoming launch of the cattle program, proving himself to his sisters and everyone at the ranch was well within his reach.
The last thing he needed was a game changer who wanted to put bison on his cattle ranch.
Travis shrugged and raised his palms in surrender. “Fine. We hire her. But let the record state that Travis Maxwell, ranch foreman, is conceding under duress.” He slapped his Stetson on his head, turned on his boot heel and headed back to his steers.
A man could trust cattle.
* * *
Coffee. The aroma of good, strong coffee permeated the bunkhouse. AJ kicked the front door shut with the toe of her boot and dropped her saddle and duffel bag on the first empty twin-size bunk.
She glanced around. Giddy anticipation sparred with a still small voice issuing a warning not to get her hopes up.
There was a total of four beds. Two bunks were empty, wearing only blue-tick mattresses. The third bed was neatly made with crisp, military-looking hospital corners. A thick quilt had been folded on the end of the bed. Diamond Patch. That was the name of the pattern of rich pinks and corals. She recognized it from the many her mother used to hand stitch. An open Bible lay on top of the quilt.
The bureau next to the bed held an assortment of the owner’s personal items and a braided rug covered the nearby floor.
Home sweet home. Except it wasn’t. Not for AJ. And she needed to remember that. Home was long gone and there was nothing left for her in Timber, Oklahoma, since her mother died. Big Heart Ranch was simply another job, another city.
When her temporary wrangler position outside Bartlesville had ended, she’d packed up her few belongings, gotten in her pickup and started driving. However her Chevy’d had a mind of its own and, just like her rodeo days, the truck had found its way back to Timber.
AJ opened her duffel and pulled out her own well-worn leather Bible and a photo of her mother, in a plain silver frame. She gently rubbed a bit of dust off the glass with her thumb and placed the photo on the oak bureau next to the bed. She’d left the rest of her personal things boxed up and sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, along with her interview suit.
No need to bring everything in because, if Travis Maxwell had his way, she’d be gone tomorrow. The man’s expressive face during her interview had told her plenty. Travis was no different from any other ranch foreman she’d encountered, except the man was younger and easier on the eyes.
The mirror above the bureau captured her reflection and she stared for a moment. Her face was devoid of makeup, her skin covered only with a layer of sunscreen. She’d do whatever was necessary to fade into the background so Travis Maxwell would see her as a capable employee and not judge her based on her appearance. Gathering her hair into a severe low ponytail, she fastened a tortoiseshell clip at her nape.
With another quick look around the room, AJ tucked her denim shirt into her Wranglers, picked up her saddle and hat, and pushed open the back door of the bunkhouse.
A middle-aged woman with gray curls sat on the small porch outside with a cup of coffee in her hand. When AJ’s
