Page 2 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“Kathline?” I pronounced her name Kath-line, just like it was spelled. “Are you there?”

A laugh sounded, and a moment later, my dad’s new wife tapped her side of the screen.

“There you are,” my dad said, as if this was the first time he’d used the face-to-face option on the phone.

“Thank you, Kathline,” I said.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

I liked my dad’s new wife. She was spunky and didn’t put up with his nonsense, of which there was plenty.

Plus, if the travel brochures I’d found in their kitchen were any clue to their future, she’d finally convinced him to take a step back from the ranch.

Which meant it would fall to me. Something I’d been looking forward to for years.

“Dad, Pidge is down. I think it’s the transmission.”

We’d let my nephews name all of our farm equipment. The tractor had been christened Pidge after the pilot of the green lion inVoltron.

“I’m not surprised,” my dad said.

“I need to get some parts for it.” What I was really asking was permission to use funds to fix the machine. I never did anything financial without consulting with him first. Even though I mostly ran the ranch, he was still footing the bill.

“You know, real soon you’re not going to have to call me about this stuff.”

That got my heart beating. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded and gave me a conspiratorial grin.

Did this mean he was finally going to hand the reins over to me? If so, I’d be able to take what he and the generations before him had built and make it better. I had plans and was anxious to get started.

“Will you be back in time for the family meeting?” he asked. “I have a surprise for y’all.”

This was feeling more and more like my future coming together. “I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be late.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.” I waved.

“Bye.” He waved too, but most of his hand was off the screen.

I went around to the back of my house and entered the washroom where I cleaned my hands, arms, and face. Instead of styling my short dark hair every day, I ran my fingers through it and let it do its thing. Spikey. Sassy. Perfect.

One glance at the clock told me I had a few minutes before I had to leave. If my dad was going to retire, I needed to be ready. After the Crew call, I could go to the bank.

Randy, the bank guy, had gone to school with my oldest brother, so his expectations would be low, but I doubted he’d be impressed if I showed up wearing grease-stained overalls and a sweaty red T-shirt. With a sigh, I decided to take a quick shower and change into clean overalls and a yellow shirt. Once again, I simply tousled my hair before I headed out the door.

A cool breeze brought the scent of damp earth. The sun valiantly stood between me and the dark clouds looming on the western horizon, and I wondered if we’d get rain this afternoon. A quick glance toward the field told me that Christopher had towed Pidge in.

“Men.” I rolled my eyes. That guy never listened to me when I said I could do something myself. My cowboy boots clomped as I descended the wood stairs and crunched on the gravel of the driveway as I walked to my truck.

“Hey, Lance.”

My nephews had insisted on naming my truck after the pilot of the red lion?Voltronagain?Lance. I didn’t complain. I kind of liked Lance. I patted the hood before I jumped in.

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