9 comments/ 32575 views/ 25 favorites I'm Not Lisa Ch. 01-03 By: coaster2 Chapter 1: Hello, Rance The first time I laid eyes on him, I knew I was in trouble. I mean, this man was it. He was every woman's wet dream. Just looking at him was enough to dampen my panties. "Who is that?" I asked Doreen Jamieson, my guide on the indoctrination tour. I didn't have to explain what I was referring to. She knew instantly. "That's Rance Cameron, head of security. Don't get your hopes up. He's not available." "Married?" "Nope. Just unavailable by choice," she said. That would take some explaining. "What's the story?" "Seems like he was burned by a Dear John letter when he was in Afghanistan. Kind of soured him on women. No more than twenty or thirty fair young maidens have thrown themselves at his feet, but came away empty-handed. Damn shame, I say." "You can say that again." I spent the rest of the day with Doreen, getting my orientation package and tour. I was the latest computer whiz hired by Kleinhauser Industries in Spokane. It was a rapidly growing company specializing in GPS technology. Two years ago, there were one hundred and eleven employees. According to my security pass, I was employee number three hundred and forty-one. When the tour was done, Doreen and I adjourned to the cafeteria and had a coffee. I would begin my regular work day tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. "How long have you worked here, Doreen?" "Four years. I was one of the early hires, number 66. Twenty-one and fresh out of Eastern Washington University. It seems like a long time ago," she chuckled. "What school are you from?" "Stanford." "Oh ... wow! Big bucks to go there," she said in awe. "I had a scholarship. My folks could never afford to send me there without that." "It must have been a hell of a scholarship, girl." "Yes. I had an athletic scholarship in swimming and an academic one in computer sciences." "Now I'm really impressed," Doreen said. "I didn't know there was any such thing as a double scholarship." "Well, not that way. I applied for the academic scholarship at several universities. I was offered a full ride at Stanford on the athletic scholarship, so I combined them. I still had to have a job to pay for the incidentals." "Just the same ... that's really something," she said in admiration. "What did you do between the time you graduated and now?" "I had a job with a family business, implementing a computer system for them. They had a couple of old off-the-shelf programs, but nothing compared to what they needed. I worked there for two years, putting in a whole system, then administering it. "But, family businesses are no place to plan a future. I wasn't family, so I could see I wasn't going anywhere. I started looking around ... and here I am." "Still, that would be good experience," she said. "Yes, it was." We sat in silence for a few moments before I asked her a personal question. "No wedding rings, so still single?" "For now. I have a boyfriend, but time will tell if he's the one. What about you?" "No. No one. Haven't had the time. Between school and swimming and looking for a job, I didn't date very much." "Well," said Doreen with a grin, "you've got some catching up to do, and this isn't too bad a place to start." For the first three months at Kleinhauser I was given fairly mundane and non-challenging tasks. On the one hand, it gave me a chance to get familiar with the company and some of the employees. On the other, I was getting bored and needed something to stimulate my brain. "Very well, Miss Sanchez, I'll look into something a bit more suitable to your skills. I'll let you know in a day or so," Mr. Weiser said. He was my immediate supervisor and seemed like a good guy. Friday afternoon that same week I was summoned to Milton Weiser's office. "If you're interested, I have an opening in the security department under Mr. Cameron. It's a different type of project, so you have the option to turn it down if you're not comfortable." "No! I mean ... no ... I'm fine with it," I said, my heart beating a mile-a-minute. Working with Rance Cameron was a dream assignment. There was no way in hell I was going to turn that down, even if I didn't know what the project was. Monday morning, I headed for the security section and looked for Rance, my body tingling in anticipation. "Mr. Cameron, I'm Julie Sanchez and I've been assigned to your project." He smiled one of those incredible smiles and again I almost lost it. Did this guy have any idea the effect he had on women? "Nice to meet you, Ms. Sanchez. We're pretty informal around here. If you don't mind, I'll call you Julie and you can call me Rance." His voice! God, that voice was something out of a western movie. It was like a deep rumble coming from way down in his body. If it wasn't West Texas, it was somewhere nearby. In my head, I could see him on a horse, Stetson pulled down over his eyes, a sunset in the desert as a backdrop. Dream on, girl. "Yes, sir ... I mean, Rance," I stammered. He was incredibly handsome in a rough-cut sort of way. At least six-foot-two, lean, but big shoulders and hands. He showed a couple of scars on his face, but they just added character. His nose had been broken at least once, but again, it was just something that made him even sexier, at least to me. His hair was sandy blonde, cut short, but looked like it never needed a comb. The eyes were blue, just as I would have expected, and they were penetrating when he fixed his gaze on me. I sat in a chair facing his desk, but he sat on the edge of the big mahogany piece barely three feet from me. "You probably know who I am and what I do," he began, "but just to be clear, I'm Chief of Security, responsible for makin' sure we hold on to our assets, both physical and intellectual. Also, I'm in charge of doin' security checks on all our employees and our suppliers. You'll remember you signed a release when you applied here so I could check you out. "So ... what does that have to do with this project?" he continued. Well, despite the fact that this is a high-tech corporation, not everythin' we do here is in keepin' with that. Right now, I'm saddled with a paper-based set of files in the security department and no interface with the HR department. We need to develop a database that will do both and get us caught up. Does that sound like somethin' you might be interested in?" I thought about it for a moment before answering. "Yes, I've had some experience in that area. But, it would require more than one person, I think. If nothing already exists, and the company has over three hundred employees, there's a lot of work to be done." Rance smiled and leaned back in his chair. "You're absolutely right. Naturally, you will have someone to lead the project who is experienced. I'll let them decide what resources they need besides you. I've already talked to Sandra Pullman, and she's agreed to take on the project leader role, but isn't interested in continuin' on after it's up and runnin'. She's a very experienced lady and you'll learn a lot workin' with her." I nodded, feeling excited that I would be involved in an important project. "Sandra is already approachin' other people to assist you and her, but she'll want to talk to you to make sure you're both happy with the assignment." "I understand." It sounded like this was a much bigger project than I had originally envisioned. I was surprised that a company this large didn't have any computerized system for either Human Resources or Security. "I'd like you to make an appointment with Sandra to get with her and discuss what she needs. She'll decide if you're right for the project, but I'd be surprised if you weren't," he smiled. "Thank you," I replied, somewhat nervously. I wasn't sure what to expect from Sandra Pullman. I had never met her, nor did I know anything about her. I would have to think about this project and what I could contribute. The next morning, I knocked on Sandra's office open door. "Come in and sit down and make yourself comfortable, Julie," she smiled as I approached her desk. "This won't be the Spanish Inquisition, in case you're wondering. You come highly recommended." "I do?" "Your supervisor says you're very quick to learn and have met or exceeded all his expectations. He's not an easy man to please." She was an attractive forty-something woman, well dressed and displaying a friendly manner. "I haven't been here very long," I admitted. "I'm surprised I'm getting this opportunity." "Rance and I have gone over your background and experience. I understand you took a small business and computerized it on your own. That's quite an achievement for someone so young." "I have to confess," I said, "I did have some help from a couple of the employees. Luckily, I didn't have a lot of resistance from the staff. Most of them really wanted the system to work." "Just the same, a very good start to your career. Now you are here and we have a much bigger project in mind. Neither the personnel files nor the security files have been computerized and there is no interface between them. Both of them are conventional paper files. "All the money for computers has been spent on design and development, accounting, and peripheral needs. Rance has really been handicapped, and we need to get both him and HR up to date as a priority." "Yes, I'm sure. I'm surprised. We do government work here. I would have thought security was a priority." "It is, Julie. I assure you, Rance takes his job very seriously and is very good at it. We just need to give him all the tools." "What would my role be?" "You would assist the design and development of the database. You have some experience that will help you, so I don't expect you will be in over your head." "I'm happy to contribute whatever I can, Sandra. When do we start?" "Next Monday. I'll have the complete team by then, so we'll get started immediately." "Thank you for the opportunity? I'm looking forward to it." "Good. I'll see you bright and early on Monday morning and introduce you to the rest of the team." I spent a pleasant weekend, anticipating my new job and working with a team for the first time. I wondered how often I would see Rance. Promptly at eight, I arrived at Sandra Pullman's office and found a small group already there. I saw a familiar face. "Hi, Doreen. Are you part of our team?" "Yeah. Great, huh. I've been hoping for an opportunity like this. Do you know anyone else?" "No, I don't think so. I just met Sandra last week. She said she'd introduce everyone this morning." Sandra walked into the office and stood in front of her desk, addressing the group. "Good morning, everyone. I'm pleased to have you on our team. We have a lot of work to do, so I'll get started by introducing everyone." Sandra read out the names of the people in the group, and each of us acknowledged her when our name was called. She handed us a sheet with the names and face pictures of each of the team on it. I recognized my picture as the one that was taken for my security pass. "We will be working in meeting room 4," she said, "and I'd like for all of you to go there now. It should be ready for us." We arrived at the meeting room to find Rance waiting for us along with Patricia Mullinder, the human resources manager. There was also a table with a tray of bakery goods, juice and soft drink cans, and a large coffee urn. We wouldn't go hungry. Sandra took over the meeting to outline the objectives, the interlocking needs for the two departments, and the potential design concept of the database. This was going to be relatively straightforward, but since we were starting from ground zero, it would be a demanding and time-consuming job. Rance and Patricia would be available throughout the project to consult and answer questions. Everyone on the team had experience either designing, implementing, or using a database. Mine had been with a purchased design that I had to install and load. Not anywhere as complex as this project would need. Within a few days, I would realize just how big this project was. Along with Doreen, our team had some interesting people. Ed Woods was a late-fifties former Martin Marietta employee who had taken early retirement and then came to work at Kleinhauser. He was a likeable man, easy to talk to and a wealth of experience and knowledge. Ranjit Bains was a young, fun-loving East Indian guy with a thick accent and a quick mind. Douglas Childress and Norman Feiler completed the group, both of them quiet, but well suited to the group. For the next three months, we worked our butts off. Long hours and, in some cases, tedious almost boring attention to detail, but all of it necessary. We had one key objective. The HR portion of the database would be available to the security people, but the Security portion would not be available to HR. We had to set up an elaborate system of passwords and firewalls to protect all the information and that took a lot of our time. The final step was testing the shell of the system and making sure it did what it was intended to do. Once that was established, it was a matter of scaling up the system, loading the database, and bringing it on-line. My part of the project was now finished and I would go back to my old cubicle and wait for another project, or so I thought. Rance had dropped in to the cafeteria a couple of times over the lunch hour to join us and get an informal update on how we were doing. Since most of my part of the project was devoted to the security system, I had a chance to talk to him. I was sitting in the cafeteria by myself when I felt someone approach from behind. "Mind if I join you, Julie?" Rance asked quietly. "Uhhm ... no ... not at all," I scrambled to be coherent. He placed his tray on the table and wound himself down into the chair. "How have you enjoyed the project?" he asked as he picked up a half of his sandwich. "Oh ... it was great. It was a real test of creative thinking. Sandra's a great leader, too. Very patient, and very smart." "Yep. I thought you'd find her easy to work with. You're the newest one here and I wanted you to be comfortable and not worried about contributin'." I nodded my agreement. We sat silently, eating our lunch before my curiosity got the better of me. "You have an accent that sounds like you're from the southwest," I stated tentatively. "Yep. Born and raised near Trinidad, Colorado. My folks have a cattle ranch just northeast of town." "So, you are a cowboy at heart," I gushed. He smiled that killer smile. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." "What brings you up here and in this business? It's nothing like your upbringing." "Tim Kleinhauser and I served in the army together. We were pretty good buddies. He taught me a whole lot about communications and the kind of stuff he wanted to create to make things safer for the troops. He'd said he was lookin' for someone to take care of security at this new company he'd started, so I listened to his offer. He wanted to know if I was interested. I said I was, so here I am. Been here for almost five years now." "Is this the first time you've been involved in a development project?" I asked. "Yep. I'm no expert on electronics. Hell, I can hardly program my PVR. My job is to see if I can get some of the smartest people we have to come up with this database. I'm just here to clear the roadblocks and to make sure everyone plays nice," he grinned. "I'm just new here. Why'd you pick me?" "You may be new, but you have the right stuff as far as I could tell. Besides, didn't you ask for this?" "Well ... not this exactly," I admitted. "You'd rather have done somethin' else?" he tested. I quickly replied, "Oh, no! I loved this project. I'm getting so much experience and learning so much." He nodded and we continued with our lunch. "So where do you hail from, Julie?" Every time he said my name I got the shivers. "I'm from Salinas, California." "I know you went to Stanford on scholarship and finished way up near the top of your class. Then you worked in a private business for a while. What attracted you to here?" "I wasn't interested in being another worker-bee in a family business. I was looking for something more dynamic that would test me and give me an opportunity to contribute. I took a chance and sent my résumé here and got an interview. Three weeks later, I was called back and offered the job. I'm surprised things have happened so quickly, but I'm very happy that I did choose Kleinhauser." "Your parents are still in Salinas," he said. It wasn't a question. "Yes. My father is maintenance supervisor at the big lettuce plant. My mother works part time at a medical clinic in town." He nodded. "Brothers or sisters?" "Two brothers. Both work with Dad." "Your family originally from Mexico?" The whole line of questioning was very casual. "My grandparents came to California in the fifties. And before you ask, yes they were legal immigrants," I stated emphatically. "Take it easy, Julie," he said softly with a small smile. "I wasn't lookin' to give you a hard time." My pulse rate was up, along with my blood pressure. So many people automatically assumed we were Illegals, and it pissed me off. Even Rance seemed to be implying that. "I'm sorry if I upset you, girl. I didn't mean to. We have a number of Mexicans on our ranch. Far as I know, they are all there legally. Leastways, Dad would do what he could to make sure of that." I nodded, thinking it smart not to let this conversation deteriorate any further. It was the first chance I had to talk to my dream cowboy, and I sure as hell didn't want to blow it. "Do you miss being on the ranch?" I asked, hoping it would change the mood of our little talk. "At times. It's not an easy life. Not as glamorous as people make out. If you don't have good help and if the cattle prices aren't steady, it can wear you out. Make you old too soon. My folks are lookin' to turn the "Three C" into a dude ranch someday not too long from now. I hate to see that, but I know it's the only way they can keep the ranch without it killin' them." "You have any brothers or sisters to help?" "I have a younger sister who's married and livin' in Pueblo. I doubt she and her husband will be takin' on the ranch when it's time." "And you? Is this where you're going to be?" He looked at me, a penetrating gaze that went right to my core. "Time will tell," he said absently, looking away. "Lot of time to think about that yet." I could sense I was in dangerous territory again and decided to shut up. Shortly after that, we rose and I began to walk away. Chapter 2 Breakthrough It was a bit of a let down that we were done. I didn't expect to be chosen for another project right away, so I headed back to my old cubicle and wondered what I'd do next. I didn't get very far. "Julie, hold on a second," I heard Rance call. I stopped immediately and turned to face him. "Yes?" "You have time for more talk?" "Ah ... sure." I wondered what was on his mind. We walked together as he led me to his office. I caught sight of a number of women giving me the eye as I walked side-by-side with my cowboy. I was curious what he wanted, but any time with Rance was time well spent as far as I was concerned. "You probably know a lot more about what I do now when I'm not hangin' around you geniuses. My real job is make sure nobody steals anythin' from us. That means people from the outside and the inside. We've grown so fast that I'm havin' a hard time keepin' up. I need a sidekick to help me out. Would you be interested?" I must have flushed with excitement. He was asking me to work with him. But hold on, there was a catch. I'm Not Lisa Ch. 01-03 "Rance, I don't know anything about security. You're not asking me to be a spy or anything, are you?" "Hell no, nothin' like that," he grinned. God, a smile from that man could make me weak in the knees. "I've got uniformed security for the outside of the buildin'. I need an assistant that can help me with the inside. As careful as we are to do background checks, someone could still slip through our screenin'. Your job would be follow up on new people, and check out anyone that might be actin' suspiciously. On top of that, you just finished designin' the database we'll be using. I need someone like you to look after it. "As far as the security part, it ain't cloak 'n' dagger stuff, just old-fashioned diggin'. There's nothing I can't teach you, and you've already proved you can learn in a hurry." "Aren't I overqualified for this type of work?" "No ... I don't think so. It's kind of like learnin' to be a private detective. You have to have one part smarts, one part common sense, and one part intuition. Now, I always heard that women are the experts at intuition. You've already proven you've got the other two parts ... so ... what do you say?" It was a rotten thing for him to do. I knew ... and he knew ... I was going to say yes. There was no way I was going to turn down a chance to be with the source of my everyday fantasies. I nodded, probably a little too vigorously. "Okay. Let's do it." "Great! Just what I was hopin' you'd say," he smiled. Oh shit, I was dead again. "We'll start next Monday mornin'. If you find me on Friday afternoon, I'll give you a tour of your new office and we can talk about what you'll need for the job." "I don't have to carry a gun or anything, do I?" "No," he laughed. "No guns, no tazers, maybe a can of pepper spray, though." He was teasing me and I smiled and chuckled at that. Right after lunch Friday I headed for Rance's office. The door was open and he was sitting behind his desk, turned toward the window, his hands behind his head, seemingly lost in thought. I knocked softly. He didn't react immediately, then acknowledged the knock and swung around to face me. The look he gave me was one I had never seen on him before. I was certain it was one of great sadness. It didn't last long. As soon as he recognized me, he forced a smile and stood. "Here for your orientation, Julie?" he asked in the sexiest voice any man was ever given. "Yes. If I'm not disturbing you." "Nope. Good a time as any," he smiled. The Rance I knew was back, and the 'look' was gone. We spent the rest of the afternoon together. First he showed me my office, which was a complete surprise. It was next to his and he pointed out that the two were soundproofed. There wouldn't be any overhearing of conversations held in them. The idea of having my own office was exciting, even if I didn't know exactly what the job was all about. Then we went over his files and what type of information he had and how it was stored. He pulled my file out and placed it before me. I looked at it, and knew from experience that it was amazingly complete. "Have you had this all the time I've been here?" I asked, a bit timidly. "Yes, from before we decided to hire you," he answered, looking me straight in the eye. "Then that conversation we had this week in the cafeteria ... what was that about?" "Just that ... conversation," he smiled. "I think of it as an ice-breaker." I looked at him with some suspicion. I looked back at the file. "This even lists the clubs and groups that I was involved with at Stanford," I said, getting more uncomfortable. He nodded, no smile this time. "That was in your year book. When we interviewed you, you were the most likely candidate. That's when I was asked to do the background check and that's why you didn't hear from us for three weeks. You came up aces, so you were hired." I don't think he realized how uncomfortable I had become. I was almost angry, but suppressed it to ask another question. "What isn't in this file that you have dug up? What more do you know about me?" I could see him change. Maybe he hadn't expected me to be this aggressive, or maybe he knew something he didn't want to share with me. I couldn't tell, but I had unsettled him. He put his hands together, interlocking his fingers and looked me straight in the eye once more. "Nothin' you haven't told me. If it's not in this file, it either isn't important to Kleinhauser or I don't know about it." There was no humor in his reply and I was forced to take what he said at face value. I wondered if it was the truth or not. As we went through the procedures and methods used for background checks, Rance stressed it was important to obey the law and not violate any statues on privacy. That didn't make any sense. He had all kinds of information on me that I didn't volunteer. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to get information in the public domain," he responded when I challenged him. "There isn't anythin' in your file that you didn't voluntarily offer or that I couldn't find on the internet usin' completely legal means." "Oh." It was about all I could say to his response. When I thought about it later, I realized he was right. I even did some test runs myself to be satisfied he was right. I felt better in one way, and concerned in another. Any idea of privacy was being eroded rather quickly in our country. If it wasn't the internet, it was CCTV cameras, Homeland Security, Credit agencies, or a dozen other organizations that collected our personal information through open sources. We had damn few secrets, it seemed. "We're going to have to start from scratch when it comes to loading the database," I said. "Don't you go worrying about that part of it. I've asked for Doreen Jamieson to help. She knows the project and wanted to see it through to the finish." "Okay. We'd better get started, we've got a lot of work to do." That got a big Rance Cameron smile. "Good! I'll look forward to havin' you here startin' tomorrow." It took another three months to convert the nearly three hundred personnel files over to the database. I was still learning the job, but it wasn't boring and I was fascinated by what I could dig up about prospective employees that they'd rather not admit. If I ran into a roadblock, I'd talk to Rance and he'd show me how to get the information legally. By now, I was comfortably settled in my new role and enjoying it. Doreen had finished her work and had gone on to another project. My job wasn't anything like I was trained for, but that didn't matter. I was sitting next to my heartthrob and learning a lot, so I was happy. We spent almost every lunch hour together, usually with a sandwich and a drink from the nearby vending machine. Sometimes we would splurge and go to the cafeteria, but more often that not, you'd find us in Rance's office, the door open, telling each other stories about our past. I learned a lot about my cowboy boss during those lunches. Bit by bit, he told me about his life and, almost by accident, his abortive romance with a local girl in Trinidad. I think it surprised him that he even mentioned it, and he shut up almost immediately when he realized what he had revealed. I was pretty sure this was the girl who had sent him the Dear John letter in Afghanistan, but I didn't pursue the matter. He hadn't volunteered the information, and I wasn't going to press my luck. Not yet, anyway. I never could get my head around the idea that a supposedly sane woman would dump a guy like Rance. It just didn't make sense. Sure, he was handsome, but he was so much more than that. He was one of those men who didn't have to act the part. He knew who he was and didn't feel like he had to show everyone. I think that was his most attractive feature. So why did this woman kiss him off? Was there something about Rance I didn't understand? I'd been with Kleinhauser for almost a year when a couple of things happened that changed my thinking. I hadn't had a single date since I had arrived in Spokane. Not one. Why? I was fixated on Rance. Probably futile, I admitted to myself more than a few times. But just the same, I didn't date. It was another sunny Spring Monday morning when I noticed that Rance hadn't come to work. I checked with the main switchboard and Lily told me that Rance had left a message on the main board over the weekend that he had to go home to Trinidad on urgent family business. He would let us know when he would return. I thought it was strange that he hadn't left me a message on my direct line, but that question was answered soon enough. I had seen Tim Kleinhauser several times in the office and during a staff party at Christmas, but I had never been formally introduced to him. So I was surprised when he knocked on my door frame, gave me a big, toothy smile, and asked if he could come in. "Of course, sir," I almost stammered, rising from my chair. I was a bit surprised when he closed the door behind him. "Uh oh," I thought, "this might not be good." "If you don't mind, please allow me to call you Julie and I'll answer to Tim," he continued with that big smile. "Yes ... sure," I managed feebly. "I feel like I know you already," he began as he sat in the chair in front of my desk. "Oh ... we've never been introduced before," I quickly told him. "I know. But Rance has been talking about you almost since you first joined us. Julie did this, Julie did that, Julie's my right arm, and so on. I thought it was about time I came down and met the woman that has my best friend tied up in knots." He said it with such good humor the meaning didn't really sink in for a moment. And then, it did. I could fell the intense blush creep from my chest to my face as I understood what he was saying. "I ... I ... had no idea," was all I could manage. "No, I don't suppose you did. Rance is pretty good at hiding his feelings. Right now, he's got a problem with his father being injured on the ranch and needing his help with the roundup. He said they've got to get the herd up to the summer pasture, and cowhands are hard to find at this time of year. Anyway, he asked me to let you know where he was and what he was doing. He didn't want you to worry." "Oh ... that's very thoughtful of him. Did he say when he'd be back?" "No. It'll pretty much depend on how his dad is and whether his mother can cope. He was pretty confident that you could handle the job without him -- no problem." "Uh ... I hope so. I wouldn't want to disappoint him." "I doubt you could do that," he said with a knowing smile. "I think Rance has finally met his match, and I came down today to talk about that." I could feel my heart racing in my chest. What the hell was this all about? What was Tim Kleinhauser suggesting? "I think it's time I told you a story, and maybe help you understand your boss a little better. Rance and I met in Fort Benning during specialist training. He'd been in the Army for a year and I wasn't there quite two years yet. We became friends first, then later on, good friends. To make a long story short, we were assigned to the same unit and shipped off to Baghdad together. "Rance was engaged to a girl from his home town named Lisa. I guess she was some kind of looker, because there was hardly a day went by when he wasn't talking about her and telling me how beautiful she was. Funny thing though, she didn't write to him much. No letters, just the occasional e-mail. I thought that was kind of strange since they were engaged. "Her father was a wealthy property developer in Trinidad, and he was making a fortune buying up old nineteenth century buildings and renovating them and selling them. Pretty soon, Trinidad was passing itself off as one of the best heritage sites in the west, and the tourists came flocking. That's what gave Rance and his father the idea that they might start a Dude Ranch operation to help with the income. "By this time, we'd been moved to Kandahar in Afghanistan. Anyway, one day Rance gets a letter from Lisa and I can still remember the look on his face when he read it. It wasn't very long and it just said she'd found somebody new and fell in love and was going to marry him. Apparently she sent back the engagement ring to his folks by mail. You can guess how Rance must have felt. "I was due to be sent home after my tour in another month, and to be honest, I wish it had been sooner. Rance went off the deep end. He took crazy risks and it almost seemed like he was trying to get himself killed. The more he tried, the more he became a one-man killing machine. It was scary to watch, but I will tell you he never put any of his men in danger. In fact, he pulled two men almost a hundred yards across the sand when they were wounded. Not just one guy, but two. He wouldn't let us come out to help. "When the brass got the report from our lieutenant, they couldn't wait to pin a medal on him. He didn't want any part of it, but they were bound and determined. A week later, we were pinned down in a fire fight with a bunch of Taliban. There were six of us and at least a dozen of them. In the middle of this fight, Rance got pissed off at the stalemate, grabbed a couple of extra grenades off my belt, and jumped out of the pit we were in, hightailing it for a nearby building. "All hell broke loose, but somehow he made it to the old house. Anyway, he damn near single handedly took out that enemy force. He had them so tied up, that we were able to support him and clean the bastards out. When I got to where Rance was, I could see his was hit and I called for a medic." Tim stopped for a moment, probably collecting his thoughts. I was exhausted just listening to this story. "Anyway, they evacuated him and next I heard he was on his way to Germany. That was the last I saw of him before I was sent home and discharged. I kept in touch with the hospital in Landstuhl, and got the word that he was going to be okay, but it was going to be a while before they would send him home. He lost a piece of one rib, and had several other wounds that were fairly serious. It was almost two months before they sent him to Walter Reed. "I went to visit him, and I have to tell you, Julie, I was worried. He was in a black mood. More pissed off that he couldn't go back and fight the Taliban than he was about the wounds. I guess he made a miserable patient. Anyway, I told him that if he was interested, I was going to set up a security department in my new business and he was a natural for it. I didn't expect for a moment that he would accept it, but I made the offer. "Three months later, he limped into my portable trailer here in Spokane and asked me if the job was still open. Hell yes, I told him. It would have been even if I'd already hired someone else. I'm sure he couldn't or wouldn't go back to Trinidad because of Lisa. She was still around, according to his mother. She'd really done a number on him and he wasn't about to let her get any satisfaction from seeing him. "So ... there you are. That's how Rance and I got together, and why he's living here and not down in southern Colorado on the ranch. But whatever magic you worked on him, he's a different man because of it. Do you know that this is the first time that he's gone home in three years? So, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you all this in my usual long-winded way," he grinned. "Yes ... I guess I am," I nodded. "Well, he's got a God-almighty crush on you and neither he nor I know how you feel about him. I don't want to see him hurt, so I guess I'm asking you a pretty personal question. I promise I won't make things difficult for you if you don't have feelings for him." I was stunned. My dream man had a thing for me? I couldn't quite believe it. All these months he had never let on. Sure, we were friendly and we worked together really well, but I thought ... if anything ... he'd figure out I was hung up on him long ago. I guess I was wrong. "Mr. ... Tim. I think every single woman in this company has a thing for Rance Cameron and I'm no different. Working with him this past while has only convinced me just what a complete man he is. He's almost too good to be true. I knew about his ex-fiancée when I first joined, but not the whole story. She must be brain-dead. He's so out-of-reach for most women that it isn't funny. And he's got a thing for me?" I said in wonder. "Fraid so," he chuckled, a look of relief on his face. He was really worried that I might not be interested. Is he kidding? "Now what?" I said, shaking my head. "What do I do now? How am I supposed to act around him? Do we have a fraternization policy?" I asked suddenly, thinking that might put a stop to any office romance. "Nope. Never got around to writing one. Think we should have one?" I laughed out loud in relief. "Not yet." Chapter 3 Your Move, Rance It took him a while, but Rance finally phoned me and told me what was going on at his home. "His horse rolled on him when it stumbled and went down. Daddy was underneath and got his leg broke in three places and cracked two ribs. I've heard from people that he was lucky he wasn't killed. Just the same, he's busted up pretty good and won't be getting' around for another couple of months. I've been arrangin' some help for Mom and been fillin' in on the drive to move the herd up to summer pasture. "I don't know when I'll be able to find another hand to take over for me, but I'm lookin' every day. How are you doin'? You havin' any problems?" "No ... not really. I miss you. I mean ... I'm making some decisions I wish you were here to say were okay." I'd caught myself just in time. There was silence on the line for a bit before he spoke. "You'll be fine, Julie. I trust you. Just do what you think is right. I'll call every day or so and we can talk." "I'd like that," I said, trying not to put too much meaning into my response. "Then you can count on it. Maybe if I call around lunch time?" "I'll be here, waiting for you." Again, I wondered what I was telling him. "That's good to hear. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye for now." I almost hated to hang up. I could hear something in his voice that I hadn't heard before. Something that sounded like ... a softness that I wasn't used to. Was Tim right? Did Rance have feelings for me? It was a dream, but was it real? I was too afraid to ask. Why would he choose me? In the months that I had worked for Rance, I had been able to contain my emotions. He was no less sexy and desirable today than he was the first time I laid eyes on him. Not only that, he was a gentleman. He seemed so out of place in this business, yet he fit like a fine leather glove when it came to doing his job. Unobtrusive, polite, discreet, sensitive ... all the attributes of a professional. A real man as I defined it. Was he shy or overly cautious? That was the question I wanted an answer to. His calls came just like clockwork, twelve-thirty on the dot. We would talk about business briefly, but most of the time he told me about what he was doing on the ranch and how things were going. I didn't have much to contribute. I wasn't doing very much except work and sleep, with a bit of swimming and exercise thrown in. I found myself trying to define our relationship, but I couldn't. Were we just friends, or, as Tim had suggested, headed for something more? I had been deferring my vacation while Rance was gone. But it made me wonder what the company did when Rance was away before I came on the scene. I decided to find out. "Nothing," Doreen said. "Tim pretty much had to kick Rance out of here once a year to take at least two weeks vacation. I think it got to the point where Tim banned him from the premises. I don't know where he went or what he did, but I'm pretty sure he didn't go home." I'm Not Lisa Ch. 01-03 As I thought about it, I felt that Rance was still fighting some demons from the breakup with Lisa. He didn't sound stressed when we talked every day, and I wondered if he was finally getting over her betrayal. After my visit from Tim, I realized I was being given a warning. Watch out for signs that Lisa was still on his mind. As Rance and I talked each day, I got the feeling that he wasn't going to be returning any time soon. We weren't currently hiring, and I was pretty much caught up on my work, so I decided to take a chance. I made an appointment to see Tim Kleinhauser. "I'm overdue for a vacation. I'm caught up, but I'm concerned that Rance won't be back for a while yet. With your permission, I'd like to take some time off. Doreen can cover for me." Tim had a funny, wrinkled smile on his face. "Where you planning to go on this vacation?" "Oh ... I don't know. I thought I'd just get in the car a drive for a while. See some more of the country, you know." "Some more of the country south and east of here?" he asked, still with that sly grin. I must have blushed again, and even though my skin was brown, I'm sure it was obvious. "Perhaps." "Good idea. Why don't you see if you can drag him back up here when you return?" Was I that transparent? "I'll do what I can," I answered bashfully. "Good luck," he said, and the meeting was over. Saturday morning I was on my way to Billings, Cheyenne, and Trinidad. I'd make it in three days, according to my computer mapping. As I drove, I wondered why I was determined to go to Rance. Was it what Tim told me? Was it the implied comfort we had with each other talking on the phone? If so, why didn't I tell Rance I was coming? He'd find out Monday I was on vacation when he phoned in at lunch hour. He'd be upset that I didn't tell him. What was my reception going to be like when I showed up unannounced at the ranch? I was beginning to have second thoughts. Was I taking too much for granted? I could always call the ranch and tell him I was on my way. Why didn't I want to do that? What made me think it was a good idea to drive twelve-hundred ninety-one miles on a whim? I didn't sleep worth a damn on Saturday night. The motel was quiet, but my mind was buzzing with random thoughts. One moment I was cursing myself for being so impulsive, the next I had dreams of him sweeping me off my feet and into his bed. Fatigue overcame me sometime in the wee hours and I finally slept. I woke just before eight and showered and dressed, heading over to the restaurant attached to the motel. A quick breakfast and I was on the road again, headed for Cheyenne. The only trouble with this drive was the amount of time I had to think, rolling over various scenarios in my mind. But no matter all the doubts I harbored, I was inevitably driving to my destination. I turned my cell phone on Monday morning, knowing Lily on the switchboard could forward important calls to me. I was just south of Pueblo, an hour out of Trinidad when my phone went off. "Julie Sanchez." "Where the hell are you?" There was no doubt whose voice it was. There was none other like it. "I'm driving south on I-25, about an hour out of Trinidad." "What! Are you kiddin' me girl?" "Nope. You've found me out. I came down here to see what a real cattle ranch looks like." I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. "Well I'll be damned. I better give you directions to the ranch then. You got a map?" "Better than that ... a GPS unit. It's a Kleinhauser too." "Well then, you turn off at Comanche Flats Road, RR 4. It's just north of Trinidad on the freeway. Go east until you get to County Road 143. You got that?" "Already programmed in and I'm fifty three miles out, a little less than an hour's drive." "I'll come out to the junction and wait for you. I'll be drivin' a silver Ford 250 pickup. What are you in?" "Just a flea-bitten old green Malibu. I'm just a poor working girl, you know," I giggled nervously. I was desperate to lighten the mood. I couldn't tell how Rance felt about my unexpected arrival, but he didn't sound angry. "Drive careful, girl. I'll be waitin' for you," he said. I thought I could detect that softening of his voice. It sounded almost like he'd be glad to see me. I hoped that was so. The GPS led me faultlessly to the junction of County Road 143 and Comanche Flats Road. I saw Rance's pickup sitting there, him standing by the front, his foot up on the bumper. Damn that man was a good looking hunk. I slowed and rolled down my window. He strolled over with a funny looking grin and leaned against the window sill. "Well, lookee who's here? You're a long way from home, Julie girl." I didn't get the sense that he was displeased, so I decided to keep the mood light. "Just out for a weekend drive and lo and behold I ended up here." "Well, I'm real pleased you did. Follow me and I'll guide you to the ranch." He flashed me that gorgeous smile and strolled back to his pickup. I breathed a sigh of relief as I fell in behind when he turned right and headed south on the paved road. At least I wouldn't be eating dust along the way. We passed several places that look like estates and hobby farms. I saw nothing that looked like a ranch. That is, until we crested a rise and there before me was something out of a movie. I could see the ranch house, a low main building with a couple of wings, one on each end. There was a barn or stable, a corral, another shed of some kind, and in the distance, acres of fenced land with a few cattle dotted here and there. I could see a couple of trucks parked near the house and some equipment and a tractor up by the barn. This was a working ranch. I couldn't see any other place for miles in any direction. We turned up a gravel driveway and parked in front of the house. It was a classic ranch house, with log siding and a rough-cut shake roof. It was hard to tell its age, but it had to have been around for some time. Rance was out of his truck and striding towards my car before I even had the motor shut off. I pushed open the door and got out, stiff from the long drive in confined quarters. I stretched, then realized Rance was watching as he moved toward me. I pulled my arms down and waited to see what happened next. "Welcome to 3C, Julie," he said awkwardly. I got the impression he was trying to decide whether to hug me in welcome, shake my hand, or just stand back and see what I would do. "How are you, Rance? You look good. The outdoors is good for you." "Yeah, I'm good. You look good too." Talk about awkward. For a guy who was normally as smooth as silk, right this moment he was acting like a kid on his first date. That was a surprise. At least it took away some of my nervousness. I had a chance to look at him as he led me to the house. Tight denims, wide leather belt, khaki work shirt, Stetson in hand, and of course, the obligatory cowboy boots. The only thing missing was the horse. "Come in and meet my folks," he said, holding the door open for me. I walked into the house and was immediately greeted by a gray-haired woman with a big smile and open arms. "Welcome to our home, Julie. Rance has told us so much about you," she said, hugging me firmly. "He has?" That I didn't expect. "I'm Marion Cameron. Come into the kitchen and meet Rance's father." I walked with her, Rance a few paces behind us, and saw an older version of Rance seated in a wheelchair, his right leg propped up on an extension. His smile was a carbon copy of Rance's, and immediately I knew I was going to like him. "Julie, I'm Angus Cameron. Welcome to our home," he smiled. Everything about him spoke of a senior version of his son. I leaned over and gave him a gentle hug. If I could do it for his father, why couldn't I do it for him? "How are your ribs?" I asked. "They're fine, almost no pain at all now. It's this damned leg that's the problem. I busted it in three places and it's goin' to be a while before it's mended. Even then I don't know if it'll ever be right. I might just end up ridin' herd on a quad or a truck instead of a horse. Won't be the same though." "Dad and I think the only good way to move cattle is on horseback. The horses do half the work, sometimes more," Rance said with a grin. "You won't be ridin' any horses any time soon, Angus Cameron. I'm not lettin' you out of this house 'till you're healed and the doctor says so," Marion Cameron said firmly. I smiled. I'd heard this kind of talk in my own family home. There was no anger or bitterness attached to it. It was the byplay of long-married couples looking after each other. There was no doubt that this was a happy home. "How long you plannin' to stay for," Marion asked. "Well, to be honest, I haven't planned anything. I've got two weeks off, so I thought I'd do a little exploring and the next thing I knew, I was on my way here." Marion cast a glance at Rance and turned back to me. "Well, that's settles it then. We've got an extra room, so let's put your things in there and you can get settled. You stay as long as you like. I know Rance will be happy to have you here," she said with a mother's sly look. Rance carried my two bags to a spare bedroom and showed me where the bathroom was. The bedroom was unused at present, so I felt free to put my clothes on hangers in the closet, or in a dresser drawer that was empty. I left my bathroom toiletries on the dresser. I assumed I would be sharing the bathroom with someone. The bedroom had a full-length mirror, something I'd never had at home or in my apartment. For the first time in a long time, I had a good look at myself. I knew from my college days that I was five-foot-six-inches tall and had weighed close to a hundred forty pounds. My shoulders and upper back were heavily muscled thanks to the weight training and constant swimming. Some of that had been lost, and when I stepped on the scales a month ago, I was surprised to see my weight was down to one-thirty. If I had one problem when I was swimming competitively it was my breasts. They were a bit too big and I had to squish them as flat as possible to streamline my body. Luckily, I wasn't a sprinter, but specialized in the longer distances. Just the same, I'm sure I lost a bit of time pushing my front through the water. I was offered an opportunity to try out for the 2008 Olympics, but declined. I had made up my mind that success in school was foremost in my future. The Olympics would mean a total dedication for up to two years and virtually putting my life on hold at the same time. Besides, at twenty-one, I was getting a little old to be trying to make world-class in my sport. I looked at the rest of my body in the mirror and was generally satisfied. I was always a bit thicker around the waist and had long ago quit worrying about it. My legs were good, and my face and coloring bespoke my classic Mexican heritage. By most people's opinion, I was an attractive twenty-six-year-old woman. It's just that I wasn't white ... I was Hispanic. I had that permanent sun tan, I used to say. More than a few times I wondered what that would mean for my future. I was lost in those thoughts when I heard an "ahem" behind me. Startled, I turned and saw Rance leaning against the door frame, watching me with what I could only describe as a hungry look. "Oh ... hi," I managed. "Supper will be ready in an hour. Come along whenever you want," he said, still appraising me. "I think I'll have and shower and change first. I've been on the road all day." "Sounds like a good idea. We'll see you then," he said, and wandered off toward the kitchen. I made a quick trip down the hall to the bathroom and soaped myself in a hot shower. I couldn't get my mind off Rance. What was going to happen while I was here? And how long should I stay? I guess I'd have to wait and see what developed over the next couple of days to decide. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain white blouse, slipped into my low-heeled shoes and moved to join the rest of the family. "Oh, don't you look nice," Marion said as I walked into the kitchen. "Don't you think so, Rance?" "Sure do," he grinned, leaning back on the island counter and sipping a drink. "Would you like somethin'?" Rance asked. "A glass of wine or a whiskey?" "I would like a glass of wine ... red if you have it, please," I answered. He nodded, reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of California Zinfandel. "This'll make you feel right at home," he suggested, removing the cork and pouring a glass. "Thanks," I said, "I'm sure I'll enjoy it." A few minutes later, Marion let us know the meal was ready and we moved to the dining room. Angus wheeled his chair, carefully inserting his broken leg under the end of the big, oak table. When I looked, I saw the table was raised on wood blocks to make sure his chair would fit underneath. It made the table a little higher, but not uncomfortably so. I sat beside Rance, and Marion sat near the end close to Angus. It was a big table and would have been strange to put us opposite to each other. As many times as Rance and I had eaten our lunch together, this was the first time we had been in what I thought of as a formal setting. There wasn't a lot of conversation at first. I guess it was a matter of who would begin. I wondered if Rance's mother had warned his father off shop-talk, but I hoped not. I was nervous and wanted them to be a normal as they could be. "Are the cattle all up on the summer range," I finally asked in desperation. "Yep. There's a few breeders and calves down here for now, but the main herd is all up on the summer grasslands," Rance said. His mother jumped in. "Rance, you should show Julie around tomorrow. It won't hurt you to take a day off. You've been goin' steady since you got here." Rance looked at her and smiled. "I believe I'll do that. It'll be nice to spend some time with my partner here," he said nodding to me. I felt myself blush again, something that I hadn't been accustomed to. "I'd like that," I agreed, attempting to regain some poise. Against her protests, I helped Marion with the dishes, and as it happened, we had a chance to talk while Rance and Angus were in the office and out of earshot. "I don't think you know how much you've helped Rance, Julie," she said, as she concentrated on cleaning a pot. "Before you came along, he was lost. Didn't want to come home for fear of seeing that woman. I was worried. Really worried. It seemed like he ran away to Spokane just to avoid her. I don't know what you did or said to change all that, but I'm grateful," she smiled directly at me. "I'm as grateful as a mother can be." "Mrs. Cameron ... Marion. I don't think I did anything other than be his friend. Someone he could talk to. Do you know that he's never so much as touched me? Maybe a handshake when we first met, but other than that we haven't had any physical contact." "Not even holdin' hands or a kiss on the cheek?" she exclaimed. "No. And it's not like I was giving him any signals that I didn't want that kind of attention. He's a wonderful man, everything a woman could want. But it's all bottled up inside him. I swear, if I ever met the woman that did this to him, I'd shoot her dead." "Well, I'll hold the gun for you," she grinned. "But maybe with a little patience and some time to yourselves, things will work themselves out. It's just that you're probably goin' to have to make the first move," Marion said seriously. I nodded. "I know. I don't know if I've got the courage to do that yet, but I'm getting close. If I could just get him to open up, I think we might have a chance." "I guess it's about trust, Julie. It's about him being able to trust you ... or any woman ... that it won't happen again. That he won't have his heart broken once more. I can't believe you'd do that to him, but I think that's the thing that's holdin' him back." I nodded my agreement. We stood silently in the kitchen, listening to the father and son talking to each other in the office. I was a wonderful comforting sound, even though we couldn't make out the words. "They're really close, aren't they," I said. "Yes. I just wish it was the same way with his sister." I gave her a questioning look. "Caroline is married to Billy Miller, a wannabe property developer who works for Dexter Prentice in Pueblo. You can guess ... Lisa is his daughter." "His sister must know what Lisa did to Rance, surely?" "Oh yes. But ... she's married to Billy and Billy's livelihood is attached to Dexter, so makin' waves might not be what's best for her. Lisa's apparently gotten real cozy with some venture capitalist that wants to bankroll Dexter's next project, so they're all in bed together. Talk about incestuous," she snorted. "This sounds like some soap opera, or Desperate Housewives." Marion was shaking her head in amazement. "Anyway, none of that matters any more. Lisa is gone and Caroline has her own life to live. Angus and I just made a pact that we wouldn't talk about the whole thing when she was here. Rance isn't quite that forgivin', so he and his sister go at it now and then." "What a shame. All because of one selfish woman," I mused. "Well, Julie, as I see it, you're the only person that can change all that," she smiled. "Leastways, you have the best chance, I figure." To Be Continued...