Read Online The Rancher's Little Girl by Emily Tilton - Free Book Online

Victoria seemed to want to take charge. Her reporter instincts, he thought, had kicked in.
    “How many hands do you have?” she asked rather sharply, once they had sat down to their meal of bologna sandwiches. He had to admit that she made a mean bologna sandwich, but the question wasn’t particularly welcome.
    “Well, there’s Joe, and Miguel, most days. Kevin comes twice a week to look after the horses, and Jeremy—”
    “Are they all from Pleasant Hill?”
    Ross felt his mouth twist, a little sourly. “Kevin comes from Gilead,” he said.
    “How often do you have your well tested for phosphates?”
    Ross closed his eyes. He couldn’t spank her for asking about phosphates, could he? He felt a sudden desire to do so anyway.
    “The well’s tested every year.”
    “Do you really think that’s enough?” Victoria asked, looking like she’d just scored a point off him.
    It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant. Ross wondered whether he would have the chance to change her approach, but there was a lot of work to be done, and with the exception of continuing to chew on that fodder question—about whether being unsure about being unsure made any sense—he couldn’t really spare the time to figure out how to make certain morning Victoria stuck around for the afternoons.
    The big change happened four days later, on Sunday. Ross went to church alone. Victoria stayed home so that as few people as possible would know she was staying with Ross. Before dinner, which Victoria was making—chicken and dumplings, as promised—Ross rode out to check on a calf who had been struggling a bit, and came back to find that Kelly Stovall was walking away from the porch, carrying a pie.
    “Kelly!” Ross called, dismounting. “Just where are you goin’ with that pie, darlin’?” He could tell even at this distance that something had gone wrong. Usually if he wasn’t there when Kelly came by on Sundays, she would just leave the pie with one of her sweet notes. Kelly seemed to have a severe look on her face, which in Ross’ experience wasn’t something you could put there very easily.
    “Ross,” she said, when he had reached her, leading Sophie by the reins. “I don’t know who that girl is, but if she’s your new baker, I wish you’d told me, and I could have given this pie to the Hartes.”
    “Whoa, whoa, Kelly. Slow down, please. Her name is Victoria, and she’s not anythin’ of the kind.”
    “What’s she doin’ here, then?”
    “She’s stayin’ with me for a few weeks. Favor to an old friend. What happened?”
    “Well, this Victoria of yours… Well I suppose it wasn’t so much what she said as the way she said it. She said she hoped you wouldn’t have room for my pie. And I think she meant it to sound like she was making a joke, but I could tell that she didn’t want anything of mine that might go in your belly, Ross.”
    “Did she refuse the pie?” Ross asked in disbelief.
    “Well, no,” Kelly said. “But I decided that she didn’t need any of my help with your dinner.” The tartness in Kelly’s tone made Ross think of an under-ripe persimmon.
    “Well, maybe she doesn’t need any help, but I’m not going to go without your pie. Come on in and let’s see about sortin’ this out.”
    Kelly let him lead her inside, after he’d tied Sophie to the hitching rail. There they found Victoria, her face dusted with flour, just getting dinner on the table. She made a sour face for just an instant when she saw that Kelly had come back inside. Ross had thought that this would be easy to patch up, but Victoria’s face seemed to tell a different story.
    “Seems like there was a misunderstandin’ here,” Ross said. “I know you didn’t mean to offend Mrs. Stovall, Victoria.”
    “Well,” Victoria said, with her afternoon air of self-possession. “I don’t suppose I can control whether Mrs. Stovall takes offense.”
    “See what I mean, Ross?” Kelly said.
    He