Rugged Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,15

stopping just inside the room. Honestly, he couldn’t go in much further, but Dallas crowded in behind him, and Jess came in too, bumping into Dallas as she squeezed by him. Even Ursula came into the office, her ears perked up and her nose working overtime.

Something definitely smelled in here, and Dallas looked around, his skin starting to crawl. This whole place needed a thorough cleaning, and he was suddenly thankful for how tiny the office was.

“Bill’s left notes.” Nick handed him a yellow legal pad with black writing on it. Dallas looked at it, once again thinking that he’d left Earth in favor of some foreign planet far across the solar system, because this was definitely not English.

“What in the world?” he asked.

“Yeah, Bill’s handwriting can be hard to decipher,” Nick said, edging closer to him. “Once you get the lay of the letters, it’s not too bad.”

“Not too bad?” Dallas looked up. “I can’t read a single word.”

Nick took the top of the pad and leaned it toward himself. “Yeah, that top line says Gremlin oil change, six quarts, still leaking.”

Dallas marveled at him, his eyes wide. He looked back at the notepad, trying to find a G at all. “Gremlin?” came out of his mouth, because he’d never met anyone who named their ranch machinery. Of course, he’d never really interacted with all that many cowboys, and right now, everywhere he looked, that was all he saw.

“Gremlin is the big green mower,” Nick said.

Dallas shook his head slowly, his mind moving at ten times the speed. “I’m going to need a cheat-sheet,” he said. “For all the nicknames of your vehicles. And what type they are.” He had no idea what kind of tractor the Gremlin was, and he’d bet every last cent to his name that they didn’t have the manuals anymore. They would at least tell him how much oil such a machine held, and how often to change it. The manual would list part numbers for belts and spark plugs, tires and pistons.

“I’ll get Bill to come work with you on it,” Jess said. She stepped back into his personal space, and he couldn’t help catching a whiff of her sweet perfume. It was so different from everything else in this building, and Dallas looked up from the notebook again.

His eyes caught on hers, and while she had sparks shooting at him, he didn’t think they were entirely unfriendly. “We’ve got feeding starting,” she said. “You good here?”

Dallas’s stomach tightened. She wasn’t going to just leave him, was she?

Turned out, yes, she was. She left the office without even waiting for him to say yes, he’d be fine there. Nick grinned at him and said, “I’m so glad we’ve got you. Thanks for taking the job, Dallas.”

“Yeah,” left Dallas’s mouth, though he didn’t really direct himself to speak. Just like that, he was alone in the office, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

He took in the desk and noted there was no computer. He’d definitely need one of those. Someone should be monitoring the stock too, as he couldn’t be running to town every day for the parts he needed.

Setting down the yellow pad, he went around the desk, which took up most of the space, and opened the top filing cabinet drawer. It squealed like nothing he’d heard before, and he flinched. Every folder and file and paper inside looked old, worn out, and grease-stained. What was all this stuff?

Sighing, Dallas closed the drawer and took a chance with his life as he sat in the chair behind the desk. It too protested being used, but he didn’t care. He looked down at the desk covered in papers and dust and grime. “What have I gotten myself into?” he wondered aloud. He tipped his head back and looked up to the ceiling. It was much lower here than out in the main part of the building.

“Dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into?”

“I don’t know my address,” he said later that day, a healthy dose of embarrassment moving through him. “What should I do about that?” He looked at the blonde secretary who’d handed him a packet of forms to fill out so he could register Remmy and Thomas for school.

Thankfully, they’d be at the same one, and it was only fifteen minutes from the ranch. Missy went there too, and Connor, Nate’s son, had started first grade a week or so ago.

Thomas had been unusually quiet all morning as Dallas