Wyoming Legend Read online

  Her little white sports car was several years old, purchased when she’d been earning a good living on the ice with her sponsors and public appearances that she and Paul made at various venues sanctioned by the United States Figure Skating Association. It was dutifully maintained, although she’d hit a tree with it recently and it had a dent on the front fender. She couldn’t afford body work, but a mechanic had said it was safe to drive. So she drove it through the snow to the ranch, using the onboard navigation system to get her to her destination.

  There was a guard at the front gate. That was surprising. She didn’t understand why a ranch would need one. He came out of a small block building and smiled as he asked what she wanted.

  “I’m applying for this job,” she said and smiled back. Her pale gray eyes twinkled as she handed him the newspaper with the ad circled. “I phoned last night, and Mr. Torrance’s foreman said that he’d expect me today by two. It’s a long drive from Jackson Hole,” she added with a laugh.

  “I’ll say, considering the snow,” he replied. “May I see some identification? Sorry, but it’s my job if I don’t ask.”

  This Mr. Torrance must be some taskmaster, she thought privately, but she handed him her driver’s license.

  “Okay, that matches what I’ve got down here.” He indicated a cell phone. “Mr. Torrance is expecting you. Main house is straight down this road about two miles. Keep to the main road, don’t turn off on any of the side roads. You can park in front of the house, anywhere you like.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m Ted,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’m Karina.”

  “Nice to meet you. I hope you get the job.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.” She hesitated before she powered the window up. “Are there a lot of candidates?” she wondered.

  He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “One lady came up and when she saw how isolated the ranch was, she turned around and went home. Not much to do around here. They draw in the sidewalks at six every day.”

  She laughed. “It’s my kind of place,” she said. “I was born down in High Meadow, southeast of Jackson Hole. Not much to do there, either. I like the country. I never was much of a city girl,” she added, not quite truthfully.

  He laughed, too. “I know what you mean. I’d wither and die in a city. Go right in, miss.”

  He powered the metal gate open and she drove through with a wave.

  * * *

  THERE WERE FENCED pastures everywhere, and they were maintained well. She saw herds of red cattle all along the way, along with outbuildings, lean-to buildings that would give them shelter in the harsh winter weather.

  Red Angus, unless she missed her guess. She’d read about the various cattle breeds that thrived in a Wyoming winter. Black and Red Angus were popular in this part of the country. She’d only been around cattle in a limited way. Her parents had a small ranch when she was a child. She’d grown up with her father’s farm animals, including a small herd of Black Baldies: Herefords mixed with Black Angus, that were beef cattle. She’d helped feed and water them, year-round, as part of her chores. There had been dogs and cats and ducks as well. It had been a lovely childhood, despite the misery of school. She’d never mixed well with the other students. Even then, ice skating had been her life. She’d spent hours at the local rink every day, practicing, while her mother tutored her. Her mother had been an Olympic ice skating champion, an Olympic gold medalist, and she’d trained her daughter well. Karina had always loved the sport. She’d thumbed through her mother’s photo album on a daily basis, delighted at the medals and acclamation her mother had claimed in the sport and the photos of her mother together with many legends of ice skating whom she’d known as friends.

  She wanted very badly to be part of that world. She was willing to do whatever it took. But that precluded any social life. Other students laughed at her dedication, at her naïveté. She wasn’t pretty, but she had a lovely figure. Boys wanted to date her, but she was wary of them. She had only one real boyfriend all the way through school, and he dated her only because his girl had thrown him over. Karina was his comfort. She liked him very much, but she hadn’t felt anything for him physically. She wondered sometimes if there was something wrong with her. She’d never felt those passionate urges she read about in her novels. There was a reason that she never really tried to have a relationship. But it left a bad taste in her mouth even to remember it. She’d pushed it to the back of her mind. She didn’t really want a boyfriend. Her whole life was skating.

  As she approached the ranch, she noted that the ranch house was a huge Victorian mansion, with gingerbread woodwork and black accents. It, like the fences, was quite well kept and sat on what must have been two acres of level terrain with a long paved driveway, automatic gates, and trees and shrubs placed decoratively around the open spaces. The front yard adjoining the house itself was paved as well. The front porch had a swing and chairs everywhere. There were many outbuildings. It looked more like a modern complex than a ranch, and it was obvious that the owner was rolling in cash. Karina had seen properties like this listed online, and they sold for millions of dollars. A traditional small cattle ranch, it was not.

  There was a big black-faced German shepherd sitting on the wide front porch when she parked next to it. She hesitated about getting out. She knew that dogs, especially guard dogs, could be ferocious if a stranger approached them.

  A small girl came out onto the porch and petted the shepherd. He laid his head against her. She grinned and motioned for Karina to come out.

  Karina slid her purse strap onto her shoulder and got out slowly. “Is he friendly?” she asked.

  “Sure! He only attacks if Daddy says a word in German,” she assured the newcomer. “Are you the lady who’s going to take care of me?” she added.

  “I hope so,” Karina replied gently.

  The little girl was petite, with long jet-black hair in a ponytail, and pale blue eyes in a rounded, pretty face. “I’m Janey,” she said. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Karina,” she replied, smiling.

  “It’s nice to meet you. My daddy had to go down to the barn. One of the bulls stepped on Billy Joe Smith.”

  Karina raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Billy Joe?”

  She laughed. “He’s from Georgia. He says lots of men have two first names down there. He’s nice. He raises our German shepherds. They’re famous!”

  “That one is very handsome,” Karina said, eyeing the dog.

  “He’s Dietrich,” Janey replied. “Go say hello, Dietrich!”

  The dog ambled over to Karina and sniffed her. She put out a hand to let him smell her, and when he looked up, she ruffled the fur on his neck. “Hello, handsome,” she said softly. “You’re a gorgeous boy!”

  He laid his head against her and drank in the affection.

  “You like dogs, don’t you?” Janey asked.

  “I love them. We had a Siberian husky when I was little. He was named Mukluk and he was an escape artist. He was always getting away. Dad spent so much time hunting him,” she laughed.

  “I like huskies, but we have lots of cats,” Janey sighed, “so we can’t have huskies. Daddy says that a lot of them are dangerous to little animals.”

  “Mukluk certainly was,” Karina said with a smile. “We had to keep our cat in a room of his own, when Mukluk came inside. Mukluk loved to chase him.”

  “Dietrich just licks our cats,” Janey chuckled.

  “He’s a sweetheart.”

  The sound of an engine diverted them. A big black truck drove up and parked next to Karina’s car. A man got out. A big man, with a light olive complexion and jet-black hair under a wide-brimmed Stetson, husky and somber, with dark brown eyes and an attitude that stuck out a mile. He was wearing a fringed leather jacket with black beadwork that emphasized wide shoulders on a body like a wrestler. He glared
at Karina.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

  She was taken aback by the sudden, sharp words.

  “She’s Karina,” the little girl said, smiling and unafraid of the big man and his bad attitude. “She’s going to be my companion.”

  The big man moved a step closer. Karina moved a step back. He was intimidating. “I’m Karina. Karina Carter.” She put out an unsteady hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr....” She searched her memory, addled by his confrontational approach, “Mr. Torrance.”

  He cocked his head and deep brown eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. Light blond hair that was probably very long, pinned up in a bun on the back of her head. Pale gray eyes. Medium height, slight build, comfortable clothing that looked as if it came from a high-ticket store, sturdy shoes, one foot in a support boot. She was leaning on a cane.

  “How can you take care of a child if you can’t even walk?” he asked shortly.

  “Sir, your daughter hardly looks as if she’d run from anything, even me,” she replied with faint humor.

  He made a sound, deep in his throat. “No. She doesn’t run from much.” His eyes narrowed, glittery. “Why do you want this job?”

  “Because I’m about to be broke,” she said honestly.

  A faint smile touched chiseled, very masculine lips. “What do you think, Janey?” he asked the child.

  Janey smiled. “I like her,” she said simply.

  He hesitated, only for a moment. “I run background checks on anyone who comes to work here.” He raised his eyebrows when she looked faintly concerned. “Only surface stuff. I don’t care if you cheated on a math test in sixth grade,” he added, insinuating that the probe wouldn’t dig deep. It relieved her. She didn’t want him to know what she’d been. She’d lost her whole life.

  “I never cheated on a test,” she said softly.

  “Why am I not surprised?” he mused. “You’ll live in,” he added. He stated a figure that raised both eyebrows. She’d been used to traveling first class while she and Paul were at the top of the tree in pairs figure skating. But that was a princely salary.

  “Isn’t that too much, just for babysitting?” she asked, trying to be fair.

  “She’s a handful,” he replied, surprised by the would-be employee’s comment. Nobody had ever said he overpaid his people.

  “Yes, I am,” Janey said.

  “She’s obsessed with ice skating, too,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t cure her, so you’ll be required to go to the rink with her every day after school.”

  “I want to be famous one day,” Janey said simply and grinned. “He says I can get a coach this fall, if I practice and prove I’m committed.” She frowned. “Committed?” she asked her father.

  “Sure. Committed. What you weren’t when you said you had to have piano lessons and you stopped after two months,” he replied.

  Janey sighed. “It was too much time indoors,” she said. “I like being outside.”

  Karina smiled. “I took piano for six years,” she said. “I loved it, but I...” She started to say, I loved skating more. But she wasn’t saying that. “I sort of grew away from it,” she said finally.

  In the back of her mind, she hoped the child didn’t follow the Olympics. But she and Paul had been in Olympic competition only once, three years ago, and the World Championship they’d won was almost a year ago. Besides, they shied away from a lot of publicity. They were private people, in a very public sport. And Karina was known professionally as Miranda Tanner. It would be all right. She hoped.

  “She never misses ice skating competitions on TV,” her father said. “A whole two months of it,” he muttered at his daughter, who grinned. Karina relaxed. The girl was just starting, not a longtime fan. It was unlikely that she’d even recognize Karina as she was now.

  “And now we have ice skating at the local rink daily. A woman who used to be an Olympic trainer bought it and put it in good repair. There’s a skating club that I enrolled her in. But I don’t have time to take her back and forth, and I don’t trust any man to do it,” he emphasized in a curious way. “So that’s going to be your job from now on.”

  Her heart skipped, not only at the thought of an Olympic trainer who might recognize her, but what he’d said about driving Janey being her job now. “You mean, I’m hired?”

  “You’re hired. Can you start right now, or do you need time to pack at your home?”

  “It’s an apartment down in Jackson Hole,” she said. “I don’t have anything with me...”

  “Go home and get it. Come inside for a minute first,” he added, noting her worried expression.

  Janey danced up to her, with Dietrich still at her side. Her eyes were bright. “We’ll have so much fun!” she said. “Do you like skating?”

  “I haven’t done much of it lately,” Karina said. That wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t.

  Janey looked at the support boot on her left foot and grimaced. “Gosh, I guess not. But you’ll get better, right?”

  “I’ll get better,” she said softly, and with a smile.

  “How did that happen?” Torrance asked.

  “I slipped on some wet leaves and fell down a bank,” she lied, not meeting his eyes. “The doctor said it would take about six months to heal completely, and it will be six months next week. I have exercises that I must do daily, so that it doesn’t lose function.”

  “Can you skate now?” he asked, going into an adjoining room.

  She swallowed, hard. “Theoretically,” she prevaricated. Surely she could just watch Janey from the stands. She didn’t want to put skates on ever again.

  He came back with a checkbook. “I’m giving you an advance. You’ll need gas money at least.” He wrote out a check and handed it to her.

  She was shocked at the amount, but he didn’t comment.

  “Don’t be long,” he added.

  “I’ll need a few hours, that’s all,” she stammered.

  “If you need someone to drive you, I’ll have one of the men do it,” he added, looking pointedly at her ankle.

  “I can drive okay,” she said. “It’s my left foot that had the broken ankle.”

  “All right. We’ll expect you back before dark,” he added.

  “Why? Do you turn into a vampire after the sun sets?” she blurted out and then flushed because it sounded forward.

  He suppressed a smile. “No, but these roads get treacherous after dark, and not just because of the snow. Wolves run in these woods.” He nodded toward the surrounding countryside. “We protect them, but they’re in packs and some aren’t people-friendly.”

  “I’ll be in a car. Not walking.”

  “Cars break down,” he returned. “Yours would look right at home in a junkyard.”

  “It’s a nice little car,” she shot back, exasperated. “How would you like it if you had a few years more on you, and they said you belonged in a people junkyard?”

  His thick eyebrows levered up. “Cars aren’t pets.”

  “Well, mine is,” she said haughtily. “I wash and wax it myself and I buy it things.”

  “Is it a boy car, then?” he mused.

  She shifted restlessly, putting her weight on her good leg. “Sort of.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. Go get your stuff and come back.”

  She smiled. “I’ll do that.” She looked at Janey with real affection. “And I won’t mind going with you to the ice rink.”

  “Thanks! Skating is my whole life,” the child said with enthusiasm.

  She reminded Karina of herself, when she was that age. How quickly the years had passed.

  “Before dark,” Torrance emphasized. “In addition to wolves, we have deer, lots of them, and they run out in front of cars. My foreman hit one just last week and we had to replace the truck he was in. Tore the front end right out.”
r />   She put her hand over her heart. “I shall return, either with my shield or on it,” she said solemnly.

  He chuckled. “You read about the Spartans, do you?”

  She smiled. “I love ancient history. I spend hours reading it on my iPhone.”

  “Me, too.”

  As he spoke, his own phone rang. He pulled it out of the carrier on his wide leather belt. “What?” he asked curtly.

  There was a pause. “Damn,” he muttered. He glanced at Karina. “Well, get going, then.”

  “Yes, sir.” She winked at Janey, climbed into her car and groaned when it backfired first thing. She just knew that Mr. Torrance was watching and laughing. It would only reinforce his bad opinion of her nice little car.

  * * *

  THERE WAS A rigid learning curve on the ranch. Torrance didn’t keep regular hours. He seemed to be a night owl as well. On her first night at the ranch, she heard him pacing at three in the morning. She wondered what kept him up. She heard heavy footsteps going past her door, down the staircase, and a rough voice along with an apologetic one.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that she learned what had happened. A heifer, one of the first-time mothers, had gone into labor and Torrance had gone out with one of his cowboys to help deliver it with a calf pull.

  “We had a milk cow whose calf was a breech birth,” she commented after Torrance detailed the activities of the night before at breakfast. “Dad and one of the cowboys managed to get him turned without hurting the cow. The vet was about forty miles away, so they had to work fast.”

  “You lived on a ranch?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It wasn’t a big one, but my father was fond of Red Angus. We had those, and several Black Baldies.”