Excerpt from Her Rancher Hero
Book #3 of the Saddlers Prairie miniseries
Of all the stupid things Autumn Knowles had done, she'd never imagined she'd be riding in the backseat of Sheriff Bennett's car—or be hauled before Judge Niemeyer.
The tall man squinting at her through tortoiseshell glasses was every bit as imposing as she remembered. Wishing she still owned one of the nice summer dresses Teddy had bought her, and mad at herself for speeding in Saddlers Prairie when she knew better, she locked her shaking hands at her waist. "Hello, Judge Niemeyer."
"Autumn Knowles. Never thought to see you back in Saddlers Prairie." Tugging on his ear, the judge frowned at the sheaf of papers on his massive desk—papers relating to her. "Had to get yourself another speeding ticket, did you? Driving a car with expired tabs will cost you even more."
There was no point in arguing that hers had been the only car on the road, or that she wasn't the only person in town to speed. "It isn't my car," Autumn said. "It belongs to my mother. She loaned it to me while she and Jett tour the rodeo circuit." Within twenty-four hours of Autumn's arrival in town a few days earlier, her mom and her latest boyfriend had left. Heather had said Autumn could sleep on the Hide-A-Bed until she got back on her feet, and use the car while she was away.
"One of you needs to pay for the tabs or you'll get another citation." The judge shook his head. "You already have more outstanding traffic tickets than a prairie dog has fleas. I understand you owe a few merchants around town, too. You and your mom are like two peas in a pod."
Autumn stiffened. "I'm nothing like her."
Heather wouldn't care that Teddy was married. She would've kept every one of the gifts he'd bought her, and had called Autumn stupid for getting rid of them all. But Autumn had been too upset to think straight. Shortly after learning that Teddy already had a wife in Butte, she'd scribbled him a nasty note, pawned her engagement ring and bought a bus ticket back home.
She'd dumped the expensive clothes, purses and shoes at a thrift store near the bus depot, and had left Bozeman with only a battered suitcase containing toiletries, cutoffs and tops, and the clothes she was wearing the afternoon she'd left Saddlers Prairie to run off with Teddy: jeans, an Official Bruno Mars Hooligan T-shirt, and combat boots that were too hot for the sizzling August weather. An impulsive act she now regretted, if only because a nice outfit would score points with the judge.
His bushy eyebrows rose skeptically, and Autumn pulled her shoulders up straight, doing her best to look responsible and decent—worlds different from her mom.
"I have my high school diploma," she reminded him. Not Heather. The second Heather had turned sixteen, and gotten pregnant with Autumn, she'd dropped out of school. "My mother lives on welfare, but I've worked since I was sixteen. Twelve, if you count babysitting—often for your own kids, I might add. You thought I was a great babysitter."
"I'd almost forgotten about that," the judge agreed, looking thoughtful. "My wife and I always liked you."
Maybe he was softening. "I don't take handouts, either—I pay my own way," Autumn added proudly. "I'm a responsible woman."
"Responsible?" Judge Niemeyer snorted. "What about the half dozen or so businesses you still owe money to? And don't forget these outstanding traffic citations you left behind when you ran off."
Ashamed of her brash behavior, of her gullibility and of not taking care of her bills, Autumn hung her head. If she'd known that fateful day fifteen months ago what she knew now, she'd have taken the time to get to know Teddy better, instead of running off with him a scant two days after they'd met.
But he'd promised her a wedding and a custom-built house for the family they would raise together. She'd wanted that happily-ever-after dream so badly that she'd thrown away common sense and made a fool of herself.
Okay, maybe she wasn't so responsible back then. "A person can change," she said. "I came back, didn't I?"
Saddlers Prairie was her home, the town where she'd always lived—if you didn't count the time in Bozeman. She knew people here, and loved the rolling prairies. She wanted to spend the rest of her life here.
"I intend to pay back every penny I owe, Judge Nie-meyer, just as soon as I find a job." This morning she'd even asked her old boss, Barb, if she could have her waitress job back at Barb's Cafe. But when Autumn had run off with Teddy, she'd quit with no notice, and Barb wasn't about to give her a second chance. "I'm sure I'll find something soon. Then you'll see how responsible I can be."
"A job. Hmm." The judge's eyes took on a shrewd glint. "I know just the place for you—the old Covey Ranch, now called Hope Ranch. It's a home for troubled teenage boys. Cody Naylor needs a temporary housekeeper, someone to cook and take care of the place until he hires someone permanently. Sixty days sounds fair."
Autumn hadn't seen Cody in years, but she remembered him. He was older than she was. He'd gone away to college and later had started a high-tech company in Silicon Valley. Every Christmas he returned to Saddlers Prairie to spend the holidays with Phil Covey, who owned Covey Ranch—except the year he'd spent the holidays with his girlfriend's family. That year, Phil had flown to California instead. Everyone in town had talked about it, wondering if Cody would marry her.
When Cody was in town, he and Phil had stopped in at Barb's a few times. Autumn had waited on them. Cody was handsome, smart and the richest, most successful man she'd ever met. He also thought he was better than she was. The big tips he'd left had felt more like charity.
After Phil had gotten sick, Cody came back, but he didn't eat at Barb's during any of Autumn's shifts. She hadn't seen him in ages.
What was he doing with a boys' home? The very idea of living with and keeping house for a bunch of troubled teenage boys was enough to ruin Autumn's already bad afternoon.
"I don't know anything about housekeeping on a ranch," she said. She didn't cook, either. "Plus I have no experience with boys with problems." She had enough troubles of her own.
"You just reminded me how great you were with my kids. This won't be that much different, except the boys are a few years older. There are four of them, ranging in age from fourteen to sixteen. This will be a good job for you."
Was he kidding? "I really don't think so," Autumn said. "Surely there are other people who'd be more qualified."
The judge's suddenly deadpan expression puzzled her. "Cody needs someone to fill in immediately. You're here and you're available."
She chewed her lip. "I don't know—"
Judge Niemeyer sat up straight in his chair and looked down at her. "You want to prove you're responsible? Take the job."
"But I—"
He shook his finger at her, as in "be quiet and listen." Autumn shut her mouth.
"The way I see it, you have three options. The first is, complete sixty days of what we'll call 'community service' at Hope Ranch. Only unlike the usual community service, with this job you'll get room, board and a salary, and at the end of the sixty days, I'll consider all your outstanding citations paid. You'll have to work out the payment of your other debts yourself.
"Choice number two is to pay what you owe the county within ten days. I'm guessing you don't have the eleven hundred dollars owed—that includes fines and accumulated interest. Which leads us to option number three—spend those sixty days in jail."
Jail? Autumn winced. "I thought you liked me," she said in a small voice.
"I do. That's why I'm sending you to the ranch. This is your opportunity to help some boys in need and learn something in the process. Someday you'll thank me."
Thank him? Autumn opened her mouth, but the judge wasn't finished.
"You should also know," he continued, "that if you agree to work at Hope Ranch, but don't stay the entire sixty days, you will be obligated to pay all your traffic fines the day you leave, or you will go to jail immediately."
Tough terms indeed. This man didn't trust her at all. Autumn bristled. "If I say I'll work there, I'll stay the full sixty days."
"I hope you mean that."
"I do!" Her voice had risen, and she sucked in a calming breath. "Why do you care so much about Hope Ranch?"
"Because Phil Covey was a dear friend of mine, and it was important to him and Cody to make this boys' ranch work."
"Was?" Autumn asked.
"Phil passed away about eight months ago."
She bowed her head. "I knew he was sick, but I thought he was holding steady." Unlike Cody, grandfatherly Phil had always been friendly toward her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"We all are. The job starts Monday."
"But this is Friday afternoon," Autumn protested. "Don't you have to notify Cody first?"
"I'll do that as soon as you leave—provided you exercise some common sense and take the job. What do you say?"
The judge didn't leave her much choice. Autumn sighed. "Looks as if I'm spending the next sixty days at Hope Ranch."
Shortly after lunch on Monday, Cody glanced at the four boys seated around him in the great room at Hope Ranch. Each of them had suffered through hard knocks that made his own lonely childhood look like easy street. "I called this meeting because our temporary housekeeper will be here shortly, and I want to set some...