Page 1 of Cowboy Daddies

Her Rancher’s Rules

By Cami Carlisle

Chapter One

“We’re having an adventure, adventure, adventure. We’re having an adventure wherever it may go,” Sage Cartwright sang, butchering the children’s song “Following the Leader” at the top of her lungs, completely off-key and loving every second of it.

Bumping along the winding gravel driveway in her beat-up SUV, Sage drove as fast as she dared. Dust swirled behind her like a trailer-park tornado.

Remote Wyoming ranch land stretched out on both sides, wide open and rugged, with mountains standing guard in the distance. Sage had driven the forty-five minutes straight from her hometown of Wilder, fueled by cheap gas-station coffee and pure stubbornness.

Having a client so close to Wilder had never happened before. Grady Kane owned Stone Creek Ranch, and it was only thirty-eight miles outside of town. That meant she could visit her friends and grab a cinnamon roll at Bread & Batter, the best bakery in Wyoming.

You would think that, living in Wilder, she would have worked on a ranch before. She’d heard plenty of stories about what it was like, but this would be a first for her. Even better, she didn’t have to do any actual ranch work. There was no way she’d be much help anyway. If Mr. Kane doubted that fact, all she had to tell him was that, despite living in Wilder–ranch capital of the state–she was probably the only person in Wyoming who couldn’t ride a horse.

Her back and butt aching thanks to the worn driver’s seat, she leaned forward to try and get some relief. She kept forgetting to get a cushion so the springs wouldn’t keep jabbing her in the backside. But that was a problem for another day. This day was her chance to start fresh.

Sure, by Wyoming standards this ranch was small, but she preferred to think of it as cozy. Cozy meant getting to know people on more than just a “Hey, I know your name” level, right? But… what if Stone Creek Ranch turned out to be an even lonelier place than Wilder?

Not that her loneliness was Wilder’s fault. Being so DDlg-friendly, the town should be the perfect place to live. The problem was her. She would be the first to admit she wasn't your typical Little.

But she wasn’t in Wilder right now. All she had to worry about were the people living at Stone Creek Ranch. Specifically, the precious girl who was looking to her for help. Even if she wasn’t very good at helping herself, Sage was darn good at helping children with special emotional needs. As a homeschool nanny, that was her whole job. A job she was very good at, thank you very much.

But every time she met a new family, she had the same worry. What if she couldn’t connect with the family? What if Rose, the silent little girl she was supposed to help, was too far gone for anyone to reach?

Once again, that was a worry for another day.

To distract herself from the never-ending road that might just be leading to nowhere, she turned on the radio. She did her best to sing along with Jordan Davis’s song “Turn This Truck Around” and hoped it wasn’t an omen.

Her tummy tingled at the memory of the things everyone at the Haven Agency had said of the mysterious rancher who owned Stone Creek Ranch. What were their words again… “stern,” “intense,” “not exactly warm and fuzzy.”

But what about all the things they didn’t say? To her, he sounded like a great dad.

You mean a great Daddy, her needy Little chimed in.

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

The last thing she needed to be worried about was whether her new client was a Daddy. Strong, stern ranchers weren’t all Daddies. For that matter, they didn’t fall for the nannies they hired for their children. Only in cheesy romance novels did that ever happen. Even if it did, nobody would choose a Little with the kind of baggage she was carrying.

Enough! She was there to do a job, and she would do it successfully. She squinted through the dirty windshield, hoping something–anything–would appear to end her trek. Maybe Stone Creek Ranch was some fantasy land found only in mythology. It sure didn’t seem to be anywhere on this road. Where was this darn ranch house?

Turning the radio back off, she belted out, “I’ll have the time of my li-i-ife,” channeling her inner Jennifer Grey, imagining the mystical Grady Kane instead of Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing, the best movie ever made. Hey, if it happened to Baby, it could happen to Sage. She wailed the song at the top of her lungs as a talisman against negative thoughts.

She glanced at Kiwi, her koala stuffie, the one who went with her on every new assignment. She’d fallen in love with Kiwi the first time she’d seen her. It wasn’t every day you saw a neon pink, purple, yellow, and green koala. She’d known right away that Kiwi wasn’t your typical koala, just like she wasn’t a typical Little.

“Did you see me take a wrong turn and not tell me?” she asked Kiwi.

Kiwi said nothing, of course, but she could tell by the look in her stuffie’s eyes that she didn’t appreciate Sage’s tone of accusation.

Glancing back at her friend, Sage tried to make amends. “All right, all right. I’m sorry, but I’m just worried. Are you worried?”

Unfortunately, because she was looking at Kiwi, she didn’t notice the pothole in the dirt road. Her car leapt like a jackrabbit, causing Sage to hold on to the wheel for dear life. Kiwi bounced in time with the rugged road, which Sage did her best not to interpret as a nod.

“What’s that?” Sage pretended to hear Kiwi say. “You want to sing the adventure song again?”

Sage tried not to think about the fact that “adventuring” was her word for lost. She really didn’t have time to be lost right now. She scowled at the endless dirt road stretching out before her, silently vowing not to let it get the best of her.

All those stories about people following their GPS and disappearing forever swam through her mind. Maybe she should go back and get better directions.