Heart of a Rancher

Chapter Two

With the fence taking longer than he’d expected, John figured Dana Brooks would show up before he finished, so he’d resolved himself that he’d be a sweaty mess when he met the classy lady. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that she’d be a sweaty mess, too.

The silky blond hair he’d seen in so many photos online was now a combination of flat and frizzy at the same time. Her face had a perspiration glow, and her clothing was way over the top for farm attire. She looked like she did in those online photos, except she didn’t look quite so put together. And she’d definitely had better days, because she’d just announced that she’d hit his cow. He didn’t have to wonder which cow.

Removing his gloves, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve then, glad the repair was done, stuck his pliers in his back pocket. “I’m guessing Gypsy is dead?”

“Gypsy?” Her eyes widened so much he could see white all the way around the vivid blue. “Oh, no, I killed your pet!” A hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.” Her words were muffled behind her palm. Then she looked back toward the road. “Maybe, maybe she wasn’t dead. Maybe she was just knocked out or something.” She turned back to John with a slight look of hope.

He raised a brow, quirked his lip to the side. “Exactly what were you driving?”

“An Escalade.”

He shook his head. “Probably not just knocked out.”

Another whimper, and he found himself moving toward the pretty lady who’d killed his oldest cow. “Hey, come on, I’ll get you a glass of water, and then we’ll get everything taken care of.” He opened the gate to let her in. “It’ll be okay.”

She trembled from head to toe, so he wrapped an arm around her as they moved toward his cabin, then he guided her to the nearest rocker on the porch. “Gypsy has been on her last leg for quite a while, and we were really just waiting for her time to go. She wasn’t a pet—” he lifted a shoulder “—but we tend to get to know all our cattle.”

“I am so sorry.” She looked miserable, and she kept glancing back toward the road as though she half expected Gypsy to make a miraculous recovery and show up at the gate, ready to be let in.

John was fairly certain that wouldn’t happen. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call my brother, Landon, and tell him what’s happened. We’ll get everything taken care of, and I’m gonna go get you that glass of water.” He went inside and fixed two glasses of ice water, called Landon and gave him a heads-up on the situation then walked back out to find Lightning, his hound dog, sniffing Dana’s expensive shoe. “All right, boy. She’s had a bad enough afternoon already. Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Dana asked.

Lightning, only slightly younger than Gypsy, raised a droopy eye, moved to one of the porch rails and proceeded to do his business.

John nodded toward the dog.

Dana sputtered on her water with a little laugh. “Oh, I see.”

“I’d kind of expected to welcome you to the ranch a little more appropriately.” He took a long drink of water, the cool liquid hitting his parched throat like a balm, almost as refreshing as having a stunning woman sitting on his front porch. “Don’t suppose hitting a cow and walking a mile in high heels would send you running to the hills, would it?”

Her eyes glittered above her glass and the corners of her mouth turned up as she took another sip. “As long as you don’t want to banish me to the hills for killing your cow.”

“As I said, Gypsy was probably ready to go. She may have even gone out to the road with a death wish, hoping someone would put her out of her misery.” He took another drink of water. “Her arthritis was pretty bad.”

She looked suspicious. “Are you serious?”

He grinned. “Nah, just trying to make you feel better.”

She gave him a full smile, and he noticed she was even prettier when she smiled. “Well, it worked.”

“Good.” He finished off his water, nodded toward her nearly empty glass. “Want more?”

“No, thank you.” She relaxed in the rocker and leaned her head back, her blond hair tumbling past slender shoulders.

John took in her appearance again. Even a sweaty mess, Dana Brooks made his pulse kick up a notch. She was taller than he’d imagined, merely a few inches shy of his six-two, and her eyes were bluer than the photos depicted. Her bio on the internet said she was twenty-six, two years younger than John, but she had a softness to her complexion, a tenderness to her features, that made her appear even younger. But her eyes, those inquisitive Caribbean-blue eyes, appeared wiser than her years, studying everything around her as she sat on the porch.

In fact, while he studied her, she visibly took in her surroundings—the porch, his dog, the fields, grazing livestock and the other colorful cabins lined up along the pond’s edge. Then she drew her attention back to John. “Is this where you live?”

He knew about her high-rise apartment in Chicago and how it overlooked Lake Michigan and the ritzy art district. “This is it. But don’t worry, I’m not putting you in one of the fishing shacks.” He cleared his throat. “Fishing cabins, I mean. Gotta get used to that.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean for your family to provide accommodations. I made a reservation at a hotel in town.”

“Yeah, but Georgiana, my brother’s wife, said she wouldn’t accept your staying in a tiny hotel room when you could stay out here on the farm. Plus, if you want to see the place firsthand, you might as well stay here.” He grinned, thinking about Georgiana’s insistence that their guest stay on the ranch. “There’s only one hotel in town—I’m sure you figured that out. Or if you want to get specific, there aren’t any hotels in town. We have one bed-and-breakfast, and that’s it.”

“Yes, the Claremont Bed-and-Breakfast. That’s where I made my reservation.”

“Naturally we know the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Tingle. So Georgiana gave them a call and told them you wouldn’t need a place to stay, after all.”

Her mouth opened slightly, surprise filling her expression. “She canceled my reservation?”

“Not exactly. I mean, they’re waiting for you to call and officially cancel it, but she did tell them you’d be staying on the farm.” He leaned against the porch rail.

Her hands ran up and down the length of her glass, ice cubes rattling with the movement, as she apparently accepted the way things ran in Smalltown, U.S.A. Quite the contrast from Chicago, no doubt. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

He stopped short of laughing out loud. “You’ve already killed our oldest cow—can’t get much more of a burden than that.”

Her mouth fell completely open this time, and John set his laugh free. Then, seeing her shocked expression, he sobered as best he could.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t tease you until you get to know me better. You aren’t a burden—you’re company. We tend to think a lot of our guests, and that’s what you are. And you’ll have to take it up with Georgiana if you’re planning to turn down her offer. But trust me, she’ll put up a decent fight. And I’m sure you can tackle the best of city slickers in a boardroom, but you haven’t seen anything like Georgiana Cutter when she has her mind made up.” He shrugged. “In my opinion, you should just go ahead and concede. I’m just sayin’.”

Her hands stopped fidgeting with the glass, and she laughed. “I’ll think about it.” She leaned forward and took another look at the line of fishing shacks bordering one side of the pond. “So, is this where your dude ranch guests will stay? In these cabins?”

“No, our fishing camp guests stay here, so they can be right by the pond. Makes it easier for them to start fishing at the crack of dawn, when the bream and crappie bite best. I’m living in this one, so they’ll have someone handy if they need anything. For the dude ranch, we’ll have campsites by the creek that flows by the hiking trails. I’ll show you when we tour the ranch.”

She scanned the vast pond. Cattails bordered the ends and dark green lily pads dotted the banks with an occasional white lily balancing on top, the scene peaceful and still beneath the afternoon sky. “No one’s fishing,” she said. “You don’t have any guests here now?”

“Nah, it’s barely March. Fish don’t start biting much until nearly April, so right now we only have guests on the weekends. Most of them are here more to relax than because they’re die-hard fishermen. But reservations are already picking up for next month.”

“So you have some guests coming in tomorrow, on Saturday?”

“All cabins filled but mine.”

She twisted in the rocker, eyed the pond and the colorful row of cabins. “This is really lovely.”

Her compliment was sincere, and he immediately felt a sense of pride in the Cutters’ first tourist venture. Hopefully the dude ranch would also hit the mark. “Thanks. We’re fairly excited about the rentals and reservations.”

“Well, your business plan for the dude ranch was impressive. I’m sure the one you did for the fishing camp was, too.”

John had prepared the business plan for the camp, but it was Georgiana’s brainstorm, not his. “Yeah, the bank had no problem with the fishing camp. But they had no desire to fund the dude ranch.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea, and I’m excited that Brooks International is funding the project.”

“Trust me, I’m very glad about that.” He reached for her glass, and she handed it over, her lean fingers brushing his palm in the process. It could have been John’s imagination, but it appeared her cheeks flushed a little when their hands touched.

Even in her tousled state, she exuded elegance, yet John found her oddly easy to talk to. He hadn’t ever had much interest in “city girls,” especially after MaciJo Riley left his heart in her wake when she chased after her big-city dreams. But right now, this city girl had his attention—that was for sure.

Her throat pulsed as she swallowed. “So did you call your brother?”

“I did. He’s waiting for us to head up to the main house so he and I can go check on your accident. We’ll get the rental agency to tow the Escalade and we’ll take care of Gypsy.”

She straightened in the rocker. “Take care of Gypsy?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.

Evidently she understood that she didn’t want to hear how they would go about taking care of a dead cow. She merely nodded. “And we’re going to the main house now?”

“If you’re up to it.”

She stood, looked around the front of the cabin and then toward Red, still grazing nearby. The log cabin was a good piece away, and naturally she couldn’t see it from there. Nor could she see a vehicle, he realized, since John didn’t need one at the shack.

“How are we getting to the main house?” The tiny tremor of trepidation in her tone made him fight another smile.

“I rode Red down here, but I thought we’d take the Gator back, given that your skirt isn’t exactly conducive to horse riding.” He watched Lightning take another interest in her shoes, and he gently steered the old dog in the other direction.

She didn’t notice the dog, her attention more focused on his statement. “The gator?”

John loved how she attempted to sound calm when her eyes gave her away. What, did she think he had some sort of live alligator around that they’d ride to the big house? He might live in the sticks, but he wasn’t ready to be featured on Swamp People yet. He leaned down to scratch Lightning behind the ears and checked his grin. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Then he led her behind the cabin to the small work shed he’d recently added for fishing supplies, opened the rolling door and pointed to the John Deere Gator that he and Landon used around the fields when they weren’t on horseback. “That’s my Gator, and it’s a decent ride. Probably not as fancy as your Escalade, but I can guarantee we won’t hit any cows.”

“That’s your gator.” Relief flooded through her words.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, pointed to the passenger side. “Yep. You ready to go?”

She stood still for a moment, and John wondered if she expected him to usher her in. There wasn’t a door to open; the thing was basically an oversize dune buggy. So, if she wasn’t a princess waiting for a chauffeur to open her door, why was she standing there?

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.” She blinked, took a step toward the Gator, and then he saw her dilemma—how to get in wearing that skirt. But before he could offer suggestions, she attempted to climb in ladylike and did a pretty good job. The skirt was slim and fitted, so she sat on the seat and then gracefully moved both legs into the vehicle. Then she let out a relieved sigh. “I’ve never seen one of these before.”

Impressed at her ability to adapt, John started the Gator. “They’re pretty much a standard piece of equipment for farms around here.”

She examined the bright yellow seats and the equally bright green exterior, then ran her hand across the shiny black dash. “It looks amazingly fun.”

City girl or not, she was mighty cute. “You want to drive? It’s fine with me, as long as you promise not to take out any more livestock on the way to the house.”

She didn’t mask her excitement with that prospect quickly enough, and John suspected—previous cow collision or not—she was about to hop out, round the Gator and take the wheel. But then she shook her head. “Not today, but yes, I’d like to drive it eventually.” She sounded practically giddy over driving a Gator. And to think John had wondered if he’d be able to impress the Chicago debutante. “And I promise not to hit any more cows when I do,” she added.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Grinning, he backed out of the shed. “So a future Gator drive will go on the books. I’m thinking we’ll probably ride the acreage tomorrow so I can show you what I have in mind for the round pen, the campsites, trail rides and all. We can take the Gator for that, rather than ride horses.”

“Oh, I want to ride horses, too.” She paused, looked at Red, then at the other horses meandering nearby and the multitude of Charolais cattle grazing on the hill. “I need to try everything if I’m going to tell the Brooks International board everything about the ranch. I want this to work, so they’ll agree to fund other similar projects.”

“I want this to work, too.” John noticed her slight smile and suspected she looked forward to her weeks on the farm. Again, a trickle of pride shot straight to his heart.

They passed over the fields with Dana surveying everything, her blond hair whipping wildly in the breeze. She gathered it into a makeshift ponytail and held it with one hand, while using the other to shield her eyes as she took everything in. She reminded him of Abi last fall at the county fair, absorbing all the new sights, sounds and fun. This affluent woman, a millionaire who’d already made her mark following after her father as a venture capitalist, seemed captivated by his world.

John was so busy watching her that he forgot to slow down when they approached the biggest hill in the pasture and consequently caught a bit of air. She grabbed at the dashboard before she slammed back down on the seat.

“Whoa!” Her excited laugh filled the air, and John found himself joining in.

“Sorry,” he said, slowing down and deciding to take it easy for the remainder of the journey. No need to toss her into the field on her first day at the ranch.

She’d lost her grip on her hair when they went airborne, and it whipped in front of her eyes as her laughter subsided. He watched her gather it again and pull it away from her face, and the pale pink polish on her nails shimmered in the sun and added another extremely feminine quality to the woman riding next to him.

John pulled his attention away to make certain he didn’t hit any more unexpected hills, and then he heard her gasp as the log cabin and barn came into view.

All of her attention focused on the scene. “Oh, my, it’s beautiful!”

He’d always thought so, but he was a country boy, and this was pure country. Hearing her echo his sentiments with such enthusiasm, particularly when he wanted so much to impress her with the ranch, felt good.

“That’s Abi.” His niece, her strawberry pigtails bouncing as she jumped off the porch, ran toward the approaching Gator.

“Hey, Uncle John! Is that the city lady? Are you really from a big town where the wind blows all the time? Uncle John says you’re going camping with us so you can see what it’s like, ’cause when we have a dude ranch people will camp and hike and stuff. I haven’t been camping before, but we’re gonna be in a tent and cook hot dogs and marshmallows, and you eat everything with your fingers. But it’s okay, ’cause you can lick your fingers to get the gooey stuff off when you’re done.”

John barely got the Gator turned off before Abi stood within feet of Dana. And continued asking questions.

“You sure are dressed up. Did you go to church? Today is Friday, not Sunday. Did we miss church?”

“Abi, this is Miss Dana.” John hoped his niece would stop talking long enough for the introduction, and she obliged. “And no, we didn’t miss church.”

“These are the clothes I wore to work this morning, and then on the plane.” Dana smiled at Abi, and John could see that she, like John and everyone else who met the precocious child, was smitten. “I didn’t dress right for the farm, did I?”

“Nope, you sure didn’t.” Abi’s head shook so hard her curly pigtails practically slapped her freckled cheeks. “You dressed for church. Or really, you kind of dressed for Easter or maybe Christmas, a fancy church day, not a regular church day.”

John laughed, and Dana grinned.

“I did bring a couple of outfits that might work on the farm, but I’m pretty sure I’ll need to go shopping and buy some more. Maybe you and your mommy could help me find a place to buy some farm clothes while I’m here?”

Abi’s head shake turned to a full, enthusiastic bob. “Sure we can! I like to go shopping, and Mommy does, too. And Grandma comes sometimes. We can go to the square, and we can get candy at the Sweet Stop and then go to the toy store, and maybe we can go get a double-chocolate milk shake when we finish. I’ll go tell Mommy. Are you ready to go?”

This time Dana laughed. “Well, I was thinking maybe tomorrow. I’ve kind of had a full day already today. And I do have some clothes I can wear, as soon as I get my bags from the car.”

“We’ll get those for you.” John climbed out of the Gator.

“Oh, all right, then.” Her disappointment undeniable, Abi handled it pretty well for a seven-year-old. “I guess tomorrow will be okay. But tomorrow is Saturday, so I have my riding lessons from Grandma in the morning. But we can go after that.”

* * *

Dana didn’t know when she’d seen a more adorable little girl. Abi’s curly red hair, copper freckles and intriguing hazel eyes reminded her of the young actress who’d played Annie on Broadway. Except, in Dana’s opinion, little Abi was even cuter, with a realness that could only be attributed to being raised on a ranch, surrounded by family and grounded in rural country. All foreign to Dana.

Abi’s attire also set her apart from any little girl Dana had ever been around. She wore a yellow shirt with denim cutoff shorts and bare feet. Even when she’d been playing as a child, Dana never went without shoes. The feature only added to Abi’s appeal; this was a true country girl. “Maybe I could come and watch your horseback-riding lessons.” She hoped to add some consolation for making Abi wait until tomorrow to shop.

Freckled cheeks pumped up with her smile. “Okay!” Then she proceeded to tell Dana about everything she’d learned in her riding lessons, while the cabin door opened and another tall cowboy Dana knew must be John’s brother stepped onto the porch. The exact image of John, except where John’s light brown hair was wavy and a little longer, Landon had a short, military style. But they had the same broad grin, the same amber eyes and the same deep dimples bracketing their smiles. Definitely brothers.

“Abi, let her get a word in every now and then.” He stepped off the porch and tweaked one of Abi’s pigtails. “You’ll have to learn to talk when she takes a breath. I’m Landon, and we’re glad you’re here, Ms. Brooks, even if you’ve gotten off to a rocky start with your arrival on the farm.”

A rocky start. Right. With all her attention focused on John, she’d almost forgotten about her entrance to the ranch. “I’m so sorry about Gypsy.” The guilt of killing this family’s oldest cow hit her hard as she continued to meet more of the Cutters.

“Gypsy? Is Gypsy okay?” Abi’s question caused Dana to realize that rarely being around children had removed her natural protective filter for the information she should share. Abi’s attention moved to the field. “Where is Gypsy?”

“Um...” Dana looked to John for help.

His mouth shifted to the side as though debating what to say, but then the cabin door opened again and a woman stepped out. Her hair, the same strawberry-blond as Abi’s, fell in long waves to her waist. “Abi, your chocolate milk is ready and on the kitchen table. Why don’t you come on in and drink it while it’s good and cold?”

“Yum.” Abi scrambled past the group and hurried into the house.

Landon looked adoringly at the stunning woman. “Ms. Brooks, this is Georgiana, my wife.”

“Please call me Dana.” She already felt over-the-top formal in her business suit and didn’t want them addressing her formally, as well. Looking back, she knew that wearing the outfit instead of something more casual was a mistake. It put a barrier up between her and this kind family, so willing to take her in and to forgive her for killing their cow.

“All right, then,” Landon said, his Southern drawl stretching out the words. “Georgiana, this is Dana.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dana said.

“You, too.” Georgiana lowered her voice and explained, “The window is open. I heard Abi’s question about Gypsy and thought it’d be a good time for her to have her chocolate milk.”

Landon wrapped an arm around his wife and kissed her cheek. “Smart thinking.”

“I feel terrible about what happened.” Dana sensed the warmth of John’s presence before she turned to verify that he’d moved to her side.

“We live on a ranch with a lot of livestock. We’re kind of used to the fact that they don’t all live forever.” His rich baritone sent goose bumps marching down her arms. Thank goodness for the long sleeves on her cardigan.

Dana had no idea how she’d control this crazy response to the cowboy. No guy from the city had ever had this effect on her senses, where every cell in her being seemed to stretch toward him whenever he neared. She knew she should say something, but once again, staring at those two dimples bracketing his smile, she found herself speechless.