The Rancher's Wedding Page 7
Cassie let out the breath she’d been holding. Or she tried to. She couldn’t get the air out, which was the major problem with people who had asthma. Getting air in was easy. Getting it back out could be an issue.
She needed her rescue inhaler, but it was under her buttoned coat, in her purse. She swung down out of the saddle, a little unsteadily, and moved away from the horse, fighting to breathe.
“Here, now, it was just a wolf or two,” he said, faintly irritated by her reaction. He put the rifle back in its scabbard. “Nothing to get so upset about.”
She couldn’t talk to tell him what was wrong. She was fumbling with her jacket, trying to get to her inhaler. She panted like a winded runner.
JL’s dark eyes narrowed as he swung down out of his saddle gracefully and moved toward her. His ex-fiancée had overreacted like that anytime she was upset. It was a painful reminder of what he’d lost, and it made him irritable. “Hell,” he said with a scowl. “Don’t be so melodramatic. You were in no danger!”
When she felt better, she thought dimly, she was going to kick him in the knee. Meanwhile, it was an ordeal just to get half a breath of air.
She finally worked her way into the purse under her light jacket and dragged out the rescue inhaler. She sat down on the ground, shivering, and held it up to her mouth. She took a puff and waited for the soothing spray to ease down into her tortured lungs and reduce the spasms.
He suddenly seemed to realize what had happened. He went down on one knee. “Here, are you all right?” he asked with belated concern.
She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. One puff wasn’t enough, and she had to wait a minute or two before she took another. It was frightening to smother like this. The cold air, the chill, the unexpected wolf sighting, all had combined to bring on an attack. She hadn’t been using the preventative her doctor had prescribed. It was hard enough to afford the rescue inhaler. The other medicine was expensive, and she’d tried to do without it. Not a good idea, apparently.
He watched while she took a second puff and held it in. Slowly, the spasm turned loose, and she was able to get her lungs to work again. She leaned forward with her forehead on her knees.
He felt two inches high. He grimaced. “Can you ride?”
She nodded. She got to her feet, still breathing heavily, and let him help her into the saddle.
He turned his horse, watching her worriedly as she followed suit. They rode back to the stable in a tense silence. She was glad that she couldn’t breathe properly, because she was really angry. So much for that kind attitude that he didn’t really have. Apparently, it was all just an act. At least she knew now what sort of person he really was, even if it was a bad way to have to learn it.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I need to go home,” she said in a hoarse voice.
“Is your father there?”
She nodded.
He opened the door of the SUV, noting that she got in all by herself and fastened her seat belt without a word.
They drove in silence to the house she and her father rented.
“I’m sorry,” he bit off when he pulled up at her door.
She forced a smile, although she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “It’s okay,” she managed.
She got out before he could reach the door to open it for her.
“We forgot your clothes,” he said, for something to break the tense silence.
She smiled again and just shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Thanks for the ride,” she said, and turned away, walking slowly to the front porch.
He watched her go, feeling empty and guilty, and angry that he hadn’t realized something was physically wrong with her. He’d made a mess of everything. He hoped he’d have the chance to make it up to her, when she had time to get over his clumsy accusation.
He climbed back into the vehicle and drove, reluctantly, away.
* * *
Her father knew something more than an asthma attack was wrong with her, but he didn’t pry. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it. She pulled out her nebulizer and turned it on. It gave her something to do while she got over the misery of the afternoon.
She was going to cook supper, but her father insisted on making sandwiches instead. He sent her to bed early, worried about the sudden rattle in her chest. She’d gotten chilled, and her lungs were weak even on good days.
“You should have a heavier coat,” he said worriedly. “I should have made arrangements to have our winter things sent out here.”
“Too big a risk right now,” she said. Their winter things were expensive clothing, stuff they wouldn’t want anybody local to see. In retrospect, she thought, they should have put the furs and designer gowns into a consignment shop and they’d have had more money for incidentals.
Her voice was hoarse. She hated what she knew was coming. She’d had too many problems not to know what lay ahead. “I should never have gone riding in the snow.”
“I should have noticed,” he began.
“My fault, not yours,” she said firmly. She patted his hand. “I’ll be okay. Honest.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Honest,” she repeated. “I’ll have a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be fine in the morning,” she added brightly.
He wasn’t smiling as he went out and closed the door behind him.
She wasn’t better in the morning, but at least she wasn’t any worse. She got dressed and went to work, shoving yesterday into the back of her mind so she wouldn’t have to think about it.
In the meantime, at work, her father had two men walk onto the lot and peer at a huge new combine parked there.
One man was dressed like a working cowboy in denims and worn boots and hat and a denim jacket. His SUV was parked in front. The other customer was wearing a nice suit and had driven up in a fairly new luxury car.
Roger Reed went straight to the man in the suit, bypassing the cowboy, and asked the man if he needed help.
The cowboy gave him an amused glance and walked back into the office.
“Hey, JL,” the owner, Bill Clay, called to him as he walked in with a cup of coffee and a sweet roll from the town’s only coffee shop. “I should have brought more coffee!”
“Mine’s still out in the truck,” JL Denton chuckled.
“What can I do for you?”
“I came to replace my combine,” he said, glancing out the window. “I guess I should have worn a suit. Your other customer attracted your salesman.”
Bill’s face hardened. “Don Terrell. He never buys a damned thing. He comes over to see the new equipment so he can tell his grandson what to buy him. At a dealership down in Denver, at that.”
“I guess your new salesman didn’t know that.”
“He’ll find it out. Sorry about that.”
“Who is he?” JL asked as he dropped into a chair in front of Bill’s desk.
“Roger Reed. He’s from back east somewhere. His cousin worked here until recently. I hired him as a replacement.” He shook his head while JL wondered at the familiarity of that last name. “He’s good with schematics, knows everything about the equipment so he can fill the customer in about its advantages. Not so good at deciding which customers to help first.”
JL shrugged. “No problem. How about writing it up for me in between sips of coffee and I’ll sign in the appropriate place,” he added with a grin.
“Happy to!”
* * *
Outside, Cassie’s harassed father was feeling less intelligent by the minute. He’d gone over all the pertinent information with his potential customer, but all he’d received in reply was a series of grunts. God knew what that meant.
Finally the man nodded. “Okay, I’m sold,” he said. He grinned. “It sounds like a great piece of equipment.” He pulled out a notepad and asked for the particulars. He wrote down the item number, the price, and the exact name. He snapped the notepad shut and slipped it back into his poc
ket.
“Can I write it up for you?” Roger asked the customer politely.
“Write it . . . ? Oh! No, sorry, I’m not buying it here,” he replied. “My grandson buys all my ranch equipment for me. He works for an equipment company down in Denver. I just decide what I want and tell him.” He grinned. “He gets an employee discount, you see. Sure helps my budget! Well, thanks again.” He shook hands and walked off the lot, back to his expensive car.
Cassie’s father stood there, blank-faced, watching his potential customer reverse his expensive car and pull out into the highway.
* * *
The man in denims was just coming out of Bill Clay’s office when he walked back inside the building.
“Glad to help,” Bill was saying. “I’ll have it delivered tomorrow morning.”
“Fine, fine,” JL said. “No rush. We aren’t going to be harvesting anything in the near future,” he added with a laugh. He shook hands. “Thanks again, Bill.”
He walked out, ignoring the salesman who’d ignored him.
Roger Reed just gaped after him. The cowboy he hadn’t thought was worth a dime had apparently just purchased one of the most expensive pieces of equipment on the place.
“Missed a hell of a commission there,” Bill told Reed quietly. “I would quote the old axiom about not judging a book by its cover, but I think you get the idea, don’t you?”
The older man grimaced. “Do I ever,” he said heavily.
“Old Don Terrell never buys anything here,” Bill told him. “His grandson works for an equipment company down in Denver. Don comes over here to look at our new stock and pick out what he wants, then he calls his grandson with the information. He’s never spent a dime here. On the other hand,” he added amusedly, “JL Denton could buy this place and everything on the lot out of petty cash, if he wanted it.”
Roger felt the blood going out of his face. “Denton?”
Bill nodded. “He owns a big Black Angus stud outside town. It’s more of a hobby for him than anything else. He’s a multi-generation rancher here. His money’s mostly in oil and mining. He has a fortune in oil stocks that his grandfather left him.”
And Roger had told his daughter that only a rich man could afford purebred cattle. He’d judged the man on old working clothes. What a lack of foresight. Lately it seemed to be his chief asset.
“I’m truly sorry,” he said.
“We live and learn,” Bill replied. “You’re new here. It will take time for you to get used to the populace. No harm done.”
Except there was. He’d made an enemy of the man his daughter was interested in, and he’d lost a huge sale. Neither thought made him particularly happy. He did still wonder what had happened the day before to bring his daughter home with an asthma attack and that aching sadness in her eyes. If he hadn’t been such an idiot, he might have found out from JL while he was selling him a piece of equipment. But by slighting the rancher, he’d done himself no good.
He went back to work with a heavy heart.
* * *
Cassie was drooping. She had a cough that was productive and the sputum was colored, not a good combination, especially when added to what was most likely a fever. She kept going anyway. She couldn’t afford to lose a day’s pay.
Mary noticed that her newest hire wasn’t feeling well. “You need to go home,” she told Cassie early in the afternoon. She waved away the girl’s protests. “I won’t fire you for getting sick, for heaven’s sake! I’ll call Sarah and she’ll come in and work the rest of your shift.” She gave Cassie another long look. “I’m going to tell her to take over for you tomorrow as well. You need to see a doctor and go to bed!” she added firmly. “You’re sick!”
Cassie drew in a painful breath. “I’m so sorry.”
“Everybody gets sick once in a while,” she said, her voice gentle. “It’s not a big deal. You’re a wonderful little worker. I’m happy to have you here. Now go home! And if you need anything, you call me, okay? I can send meals over for you and your dad if you can’t cook supper.”
Tears rolled down Cassie’s cheek. “That’s so kind. . . .” She choked up.
“Don’t do that, or you’ll have me bawling, too,” Mary teased. “Go home. I’ll call and check on you in the morning.”
“Thanks,” she said.
* * *
She called her father at work. He had to ask Bill to let him off long enough to get his sick daughter and take her home.
“I knew you shouldn’t have gone out in that lightweight coat,” he said heavily when he saw how ill Cassie was.
“We all do dumb things,” she told him.
“Funny you should mention that,” he murmured as he helped her inside the house. “I lost a huge sale this morning. I had to choose between a customer in blue jeans and one in a suit. I chose the wrong one.”
Cassie’s eyebrows rose.
“The man in the suit was just looking,” he said with a wry smile. “The man in blue jeans bought a brand-new combine from my boss while I was going over all the advantages of the equipment to a man who had no intention of buying it from me.”
“Oh, dear,” she said.
“It gets worse. The man I slighted was JL Denton.”
Cassie’s heart jumped. She bit her lower lip.
“Pity I didn’t ask him to bring you inside when he dropped you off here yesterday, or I’d have known who he was,” her father said sadly. “He didn’t even look at me when he went out the door. I’ve made an enemy there.”
“Just as well,” she said, averting her eyes. “I’m not too keen on him, either.”
“Care to tell me what happened yesterday?” he probed gently.
“There was a pack of wolves,” she said. “I was already chilled. One of the wolves stopped and growled at my horse, who reared and unsettled me. JL had his rifle out and the wolf saw it and took off. But it brought on the asthma attack.”
“I’m so sorry,” he began.
“It gets worse,” she interrupted. “He thought I was being melodramatic when I gasped for breath. It wasn’t until I managed to get out my rescue inhaler that he stopped being sarcastic.”
“No wonder you were upset.”
“Just one of those things,” she said. “But I don’t care if I never see JL Denton again as long as I live.”
He could see the pain in her eyes, in her face. She’d never cared enough about a man to be so angry at one. That alone told her father that she’d felt something for the rancher.
“Life hurts,” he said.
“Tell me about it. You should go back to work before Mr. Clay fires you,” she said, trying to smile.
“If he was going to fire me, he’d have done it already. At least he saved the sale I lost.”
“I’m going to bed.”
“I can bring home something for supper.”
“Nonsense,” she replied. “I can cook. I’m just going to lie down for a few minutes and use my nebulizer. I’ll take some of that leftover cough syrup and I’ll be fine.”
“We can afford a doctor visit,” he replied.
She made a face. “Sure we can. I’ll do that, while they’re filling up our yacht with diesel.”
He laughed softly. “Okay. But I’d rather make payments on a doctor visit than lose my only child. Just saying.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too.”
She smiled and walked off toward her bedroom.
Chapter Five
JL was half out of sorts after being ignored by Bill Clay’s salesman. He realized that the man wasn’t likely to know much about local people since he’d just started at the concern. But it hurt to be ignored, as if he was of less worth because he dressed in working clothes.
He was curious about the newcomer. Hadn’t Cassie said that her father was working for an equipment company? There was only one in town, and he’d just come from it.
He frowned. What if that had been her father? It made sense now that he’d have ig
nored the man who’d made fun of his daughter’s asthma attack.
It shamed JL that he’d done that. He hadn’t realized she’d had a health issue. He’d thought she was being overly dramatic about the wolf. In fact, his ex-fiancée had done the same thing over a similar incident. It had brought back painful memories. Of course, he hadn’t said anything to the other woman about overreacting. He’d been kind and solicitous to his ex-fiancée, because he’d fancied himself in love with her.
He wished he’d been kinder to Cassie. No wonder she was mad at him. He didn’t blame her, or her father. It hadn’t been until she’d pulled out what looked like an inhaler that he realized she wasn’t putting on an act.
He walked out to the barn to tell Drum about the new purchase and give him a time frame about delivery the next day.
“You look preoccupied,” Drum noted.
“I did a stupid thing yesterday. I thought Cassie Reed was being overdramatic because a wolf growled at her mount and made it restless. She had an inhaler in her pocket, one of those things people with asthma use,” he added. He sighed. “She was already chilled. Eastern tenderfeet don’t know about Colorado winters, and she’s from Georgia. She was wearing a lightweight coat. I guess she got chilled enough to bring on an attack.”
“My mother had asthma,” Drum replied. “She got pneumonia a lot. All she had to do was be around somebody with a cold and she’d get sick. It would always go right into her chest. We spent a lot of time in the hospital with her.”
JL frowned. He hadn’t thought that Cassie might get sick from being chilled. He felt even more guilty.
“She was barely speaking to me when I got her home,” he murmured. “I hardly even had time to apologize.” He scowled. “I made a worse mistake this morning. I think her father is Bill Clay’s new employee. I snubbed him going out of the office. He’d passed me over for a man in a suit when I was looking at the combine I bought.”
“In your favor, you didn’t know,” Drum pointed out.
He made a face. “That won’t do much to help me.” He pursed his lips. “I think I’ll stop by the restaurant and see how much damage I did,” he added. “It’s getting on suppertime, anyway, and I’m hungry.”