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Trusting The Cowboy
Carolyne Aarsen
Falling For the RancherWhen Lauren McCauley returns to the Circle M Ranch after her father’s death, she’s focused on selling the spread and getting a fresh start somewhere else. But she’s unprepared for the jolt her heart feels when she meets Vic Moore. The handsome, broad-shouldered cowboy may have a legitimate claim to the Circle M, and he makes it clear he’d like to lasso Lauren as well. Terrified of another heartbreak, Lauren vows to cash in and ship out. But the strong and steady rancher is not about to give up on his dreams of a home…and a family to go with it.Big Sky Cowboys: Where open hearts find home and family


Falling for the Rancher
When Lauren McCauley returns to the Circle M Ranch after her father’s death, she’s focused on selling the spread and getting a fresh start somewhere else. But she’s unprepared for the jolt her heart feels when she meets Vic Moore. The handsome, broad-shouldered cowboy may have a legitimate claim to the Circle M, and he makes it clear he’d like to lasso Lauren, as well. Terrified of another heartbreak, Lauren vows to cash in and ship out. But the strong and steady rancher is not about to give up on his dreams of a home...and a family to go with it.
“I think that you’re starting to like it here,” Vic said.
She swallowed as their eyes held.
“I am. It’s peaceful,” she said finally, fully aware of the calloused warmth of his hand.
“It can be,” he said. “Winter can be harsh and wild, though. When the wind whips up snow and piles it into snowbanks, blocks off roads.”
“I’ve never been here in the winter, except when I was a little girl,” she said.
“It has its own beauty,” Vic continued. “Its own moments when the sun comes out and the world looks like an endless blanket of white.”
His voice and the pictures he sketched with it were beguiling, and Lauren imagined herself tucked away in her father’s ranch house, looking out over blinding fields of white, a fire blazing in the hearth, a book on her lap.
It’s a dream, her practical self told her. A foolish dream.
She tugged her hand free and pulled herself away from Vic and the web he was weaving.
CAROLYNE AARSEN and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in an office with a large west-facing window, through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey. Visit her website at carolyneaarsen.com (http://www.carolyneaarsen.com).

Trusting the Cowboy
Carolyne Aarsen

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him,
and He will make your paths straight.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
To my husband, Richard,
who has shown me the meaning of trust.
Contents
Cover (#u5391dd97-d257-54d8-b81f-d12b723539ba)
Back Cover Text (#u73261243-164e-5eff-9587-840276cb6c01)
Introduction (#u5a00daef-0320-50a3-b2bf-8bda62eed618)
About the Author (#u193c4ec9-f17b-57f0-93fe-42dbd6e10a72)
Title Page (#u3364dfc4-6b89-56eb-94ac-ef5d39884199)
Bible Verse (#u41f180a7-cb74-54d3-be09-8ddeab271303)
Dedication (#u4890a010-0b81-54da-b038-130367e83cc9)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Dear Reader
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u06280ab8-0cb3-5d43-b7bd-db2988c85b54)
She wasn’t supposed to be here yet. Her sister Jodie had told him she was arriving in a couple of weeks.
But there she sat, perched in one of Drake’s worn chairs, as out of place in the shabby lawyer’s office as a purebred filly in a petting zoo.
Lauren McCauley appeared to be every inch the businesswoman Vic knew her to be. Tall. Slim. Blond hair twisted up in some fancy bun, a few wisps falling around her delicate features. She wore a brown blazer over a fitted dress tucked under her legs. Her high heels made her look as if she might topple to the ground if she stood.
A silver laptop rested on her knees and she frowned at the screen.
When she was a teenager, coming to Montana to visit her dad during the summer, she’d had a look that promised great beauty. But she always managed to seem cool and unapproachable. And she had never been his type.
Vic leaned more toward girls who rode horses and weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty mucking out horse stalls, running a tractor or feeding cows.
In spite of that, Vic couldn’t help a faint flutter of attraction when he peeked over at her again. She’d always been pretty. Now she looked stunning.
Lauren McCauley glanced up from the laptop she was typing on with her manicured fingers. She gave him a polite smile, her lips glistening a pale peach color, and she turned back to the computer.
Dissed and dismissed, he thought, glancing down at his cleanest blue jeans with the faded knees and the twill shirt he’d figured would be good enough. Now it seemed scruffy with its worn cuffs and grease stain on the arm. He felt exactly like the cowboy he was.
He pulled his hat off his head and walked over to where Jane Forsythe, Drake’s secretary, pounded on her keyboard, glowering through her cat’s-eye glasses at the computer screen. The overhead light burnished the copper of her hair, making it look even brassier than the fake color everyone knew it to be.
“Hey, Vic, you handsome cowboy, you.” Jane tugged off her reading glasses and tossed them on a pile of papers that threatened to topple. “Drake will be right with you.” She angled her head to look past him to where Lauren sat, then leaned forward, her hand cupping her mouth. “He has to see her first.” Jane put emphasis on the her as if Lauren were some strange species of woman.
“That’s fine. I’m early,” Vic said. “But let him know I’m here.” He took a chair along the other wall. There were two empty ones on either side of Lauren, but he felt more comfortable giving himself some distance.
Besides, he had a better view of Lauren from this angle.
“Always so responsible,” Jane said approvingly, slipping her glasses on. “How’s your mother?”
“She has her days. It’s been hard.”
“Losing a parent can be difficult,” Jane said. She looked past him again at Lauren. Vic guessed from the way the secretary scrunched up her face in sympathy, she was getting ready to take a stab at distracting Lauren from her work. “And how are you doing, Miss McCauley? It’s only been a few months since your own father died. Vic here lost his father, too, about four months ago. You two could compare notes.”
Vic forced himself not to roll his eyes. Jane had a good heart and meant well, but for the secretary of a lawyer she was completely unaware of personal privacy and space.
Lauren’s gaze rested on Jane, then shifted to Vic, her eyes a soft gray blue fringed with thick lashes.
“You’re Vic Moore, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” he said. “I rent your father’s ranch.”
“I thought Rusty Granger did.”
“Not for the past three years.”
Vic wasn’t surprised Lauren didn’t know that. After her parents’ divorce, when Lauren was about nine, she and her sisters had lived for ten months of the year with their grandmother in Knoxville. Two years later, after their mother died, they came to the ranch for the summer to visit their father. But when Lauren turned eighteen, she and her twin sister, Erin, stopped coming. The last time he remembered seeing Lauren here was maybe four years ago, and then only for a few days.
Their younger sister, Jodie, ducked out of her last visit when she was seventeen and never came back at all. She had returned a couple of months ago, to fulfill the terms of their father’s will, and was now living here permanently.
Everything he knew about Lauren, Vic had learned over time while working with Keith McCauley on his ranch as well as the occasional coffee-shop chitchat at the Grill and Chill, Saddlebank’s local restaurant. Though chitchat was the wrong thing to call the steady litany of complaints Keith leveled at anyone who would listen about life, the government, the lax sheriff’s department and his wayward daughters.
The rest he’d learned recently from Lauren’s sister Jodie, now engaged to Vic’s good friend Finn Hicks. He knew Lauren worked as an accountant. That she was single and dedicated to her career.
Still not his type.
“I shouldn’t be surprised Rusty isn’t renting it anymore,” Lauren said, giving him a polite smile and closing her laptop. Either she had finished whatever it was she was working on or she had given up. “My father never particularly cared for him.”
Vic held his tongue. Keith hadn’t cared for too many people, so Vic had handled the man carefully. Vic and Keith had had a lease-to-own agreement for Vic to buy Keith’s ranch.
Vic wanted to ask Lauren more about her plans. He knew that she was here to satisfy the terms of her father’s will, as well. Her sister Jodie, who was coming to the end of her obligation, had told him all about the conditions their father had put on the girls inheriting the ranch.
Two of the three girls had to stay at the ranch for two months each before all three of them could make a final decision.
He’d spoken to Jodie about his deal with her father. But all she could tell him was that she’d have to defer to Lauren’s wishes, and all she knew was that Lauren was agreeable to selling.
But he wasn’t about to bring that up now. He still had a couple of months.
“I heard you’ll be staying at your father’s place while you’re here,” he said. “Jodie was excited to see you.”
“Yes. Jodie said she got my old room ready. I’m headed there next.”
“Is Erin coming back?”
Lauren shook her head. “If I stay the two months, she won’t have to, and Jodie and I will make the final decision on what to do with the ranch.”
She didn’t seem to know anything about the deal he’d made with her father, either.
Her cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her purse.
She turned away from him, speaking in a low voice, and he tried not to listen. However, in the small room, it was hard not to. The man on the other end had a loud voice and Vic heard snatches of conversation.
“I’m at the lawyer’s office...I can’t make a final decision until I speak to him...Of course I’m leaving after my time is done. I’ve no intention of sticking around.” She pressed her lips together and fingered a strand of hair away from her face. “Your offer is fantastic, but I need to talk to my sisters first, but yes, I think you’ll get it.”
A chill slid through his veins.
Was she talking about the ranch?
He swallowed down a knot as she spoke again.
“Come down in a week or so and I can show you the ranch. That’s all I can say for now...fine...see you then.” She ended the call, a frown creasing the perfection of her forehead. Then she dropped the phone in her purse.
The room felt short of air as the reality of what she was talking about sank in.
“Was that a buyer for the ranch?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Her look of surprise clearly showed him what she thought of what he had just done. But it didn’t matter. It was out there now.
“Actually, yes. It was.”
“But I had a purchase deal with your father,” he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “That’s why I was renting it.”
She lifted her chin, her hands folded primly on her laptop. “Jodie mentioned your situation to me, but we could find no paperwork substantiating your claim.”
“Your father told me he’d taken care of it.” Vic remembered discussing this with Keith after his cancer diagnosis, knowing that they needed to get something in writing to protect their agreement. Keith had promised him he was putting his affairs in order. That he’d written something out for him and signed it.
“As I said, we didn’t find anything. But if you’re interested in purchasing the ranch, you’ll have an opportunity to counteroffer.”
Vic stared at her, doubts dogging him. Keith had given him a deal on the price and Vic knew it. He doubted Lauren would do the same for the future buyer or for him.
Fury at Keith’s failure to keep his promise surged through him.
The intercom beeped. Jane answered it, then she looked at Lauren.
“Drake will see you now,” she said, her eyes darting from Lauren to Vic and back again.
Vic pressed his lips together as Lauren slipped her laptop in her leather briefcase, picked it up and stood all in one smooth motion.
But as she took a step, her purse strap caught on the chair. She stumbled and Vic jumped up to help her, catching her by the elbow, which made her totter. Her briefcase fell. She jerked her arm away. “I’m okay. I don’t need your help.”
He didn’t say anything but bent down to pick up her briefcase. But she moved too quickly and snatched it off the floor.
She spared him a glance as she straightened. Then she strode across the carpet in her towering heels, shoulders straight, head high.
And as the door closed behind her, Vic slumped back in his chair, dragging his hand over his face, feeling stupid and scared.
He’d just about made a fool of himself in front of this woman.
Lauren had a buyer for the ranch.
And there was no paper from her father.
He had promised his younger brother, Dean, that they were getting the ranch. Guaranteed it. Now they might lose it.
If that happened, how was he supposed to help his brother?
* * *
“Lauren, how lovely to see you,” Drake Neubauer said, getting up from behind his desk.
Outwardly Lauren was smiling but her insides still shook and her hands still trembled.
Mr. Vic Moore had looked so angry when she told him about the buyer for the ranch.
You did nothing wrong, she told herself, taking a deep breath as Drake walked toward her outstretched hand. He has no claim.
You could have let him help you.
She dismissed that voice as quickly as it slid into her brain. She’d been doing fine until he’d interfered and almost made her fall.
And wouldn’t that have come across all dignified?
“So glad you could make it here,” Drake said as he shook her hand, his other hand covering it, squeezing lightly. “Goodness, girl, your hands are like ice.”
“I’m just cold-blooded,” she joked as she returned his warm handshake.
Harvey had always accused her of that. At least that was the excuse he gave her when he dumped her a few days before their wedding.
“It’s good to be back,” she said, relegating those shameful memories to where they belonged. The past.
“I’m sure you missed all this,” Drake said, waving one hand at the window behind them.
Drake’s offices were situated above the hardware store, and through the window Lauren saw the valley the Saddlebank River snaked through. Her eyes shifted to the mountains, snow frosted and craggy, cradling the basin, and her mind slowed. Though she and her sisters had resented coming here every summer, when they were back home in Knoxville she’d found herself missing these very mountains.
“It was a part of my life,” she said, her voice quiet.
“Does it feel good to be back?” Drake asked.
Lauren gave him a brief smile as she lowered herself to the chair, setting her briefcase on the floor and tucking her skirt under her legs. “Yes, it does.” Though the restless part of her wasn’t sure how she would stay busy on the ranch, the weary part longed for a reprieve from the stress and tension of the last year and a half.
And a break from the pitying stares of friends each time they met. Harvey hadn’t only taken a wedding away from her, he’d also robbed her of her money, her dignity and her self-esteem. She had been scrambling to show to the world that he hadn’t won.
“And how are you doing since your father’s passing? Ironic that it wasn’t the cancer that killed him but a truck accident.” Drake sat down, opened the file lying on his desk and flipped through it.
She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she said nothing.
Though losing her father had bothered her more than she’d thought it would, the true reality was neither Lauren nor her sisters had ever been close with Keith McCauley.
“Has the accident been cleared with the insurance company yet?” Lauren asked as Drake made a few notes on a piece of paper in the file. “Jodie had said there were some difficulties?”
“They’re still dealing with it, but last I heard, it should be finalized in the next few weeks.”
“Where is the truck?”
“At Vic Moore’s. The accident happened as your father was going down his driveway.”
“Any liability at play?”
“No. That much has been determined already. The truck was in perfect working order.”
“And Vic’s driveway?”
“Your father hit a deer, then lost control and rolled the vehicle. Neither Vic nor the Rocking M were at fault.”
“I wasn’t thinking of filing a lawsuit, if that’s what you were worried about,” Lauren said, her mind ticking back to the tall man still sitting in the waiting room. With his dark eyebrows, firm chin and square jaw, he commanded attention. When he had stridden into the office, she had been unable to look away.
But all it took was a glance at her bare ring finger and her father’s will to remind her of the hard lessons life had taught her about men. Men were selfish and undependable. Between her father, Harvey and her now-former boss, she should be crystal clear on that point.
In Christ alone...
The words of a song she had been singing lately slipped into her mind, and she latched on to them. Men might not be able to give anything up for loved ones, but Christ had.
Which only reminded her again that she needed to be self-sufficient and self-reliant.
“No. Of course not.” But Drake’s hasty answer, and the way he fluttered one hand in a defensive gesture, told her that he had, indeed, thought exactly that.
She tried not to feel overly sensitive, reminding herself that Drake knew nothing about her other than what her father had told him.
“So I’m guessing you’re here to officially check in,” Drake said, settling into his chair behind his desk.
“Or clock in,” Lauren returned. “I wasn’t sure of the protocol, and I did end up coming a couple of weeks earlier than anticipated.” Getting laid off was a stark motivator.
“No. It’s fine.” Drake gave her an apologetic smile. “I know your father had his reasons for doing this, and just for the record, I tried to talk him out of it. Tried to explain to him that it could come across as being manipulative.”
Lauren shrugged. “Let’s be honest here. Like Jodie said after the funeral, it seemed he never gave us anything without strings attached.”
Her words came out more bitter than she’d intended. Though she and her father hadn’t had the adversarial relationship he and Jodie had, they hadn’t been close, either.
“I’m sorry, but at least not all three of you had to stay here. You can decide what to do after your two months are up.”
Lauren heard the unspoken question in his voice and decided to address it directly.
“Erin said she would go along with whatever decision I make, but you may as well know that we will be selling the ranch.”
“To Vic?”
Lauren shook her head. “No. I have a buyer lined up. A client from the firm I worked...used to work for. He has various real estate holdings and has been looking for another investment opportunity. When I told him about the ranch, he was interested.”
“But Vic has rented your father’s land for the past three years. I thought they had an agreement.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” Lauren straightened, leaning forward, her heart racing at the thought that he might jeopardize the sale. She would receive one-third of the proceeds, and she would need every penny of that for her new business venture. A venture that she was in a rush to put together after losing her current job. “Does he have a legal right to the property?”
“As far as I know, your father never gave me anything in writing, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I believe it was a handshake deal. Not uncommon around here.”
“So I have no legal obligation to sell it to Mr. Moore?”
“None whatsoever. But I do have to warn you, your father was thinking of drawing up something legal for Vic. If that is the case, and this paper does show up, it will need to be dealt with.”
“Had he mentioned a price?”
Drake gave her a number.
It wasn’t close to what her potential buyer was offering. “And if such documentation isn’t found?”
“Then he has no claim.”
Relief flooded her. “That’s good to know. I don’t want anything preventing the sale.” Or forcing her to sell it to Vic at a significantly reduced price.
As far as she knew, Jodie hadn’t found any paperwork, so it seemed they were in the clear.
“A word of advice, if I may, Lauren,” Drake continued. “You might want to give him a chance to counteroffer or at least match what your buyer is willing to pay.”
“Of course. I could do that.”
“I know he was hoping to get the ranch for his younger brother, Dean.”
Lauren dredged her memory and came up with a picture of a young man who partied hard and spent the rest of the time riding rodeo. And trying to date her twin sister, Erin. “Dean is ranching now?”
“Not at the moment. He was injured in a rodeo accident a while back. Vic leased your father’s ranch with an eye to adding it to his holdings and making room for Dean.”
“Tell Vic to talk to me if he wants to make an offer. He’s waiting to see you next.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
Lauren thought back to the anger he’d revealed when she told him she had a buyer, then shook her head. “No. Better if it comes from a third party.”
“Okay. I’ll tell him to come up with some numbers.” Drake tapped his pen on the open file in front of him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Not right now. Like I said, I wanted to check in.”
Drake leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had a few more things he wanted to discuss, then he shook his head and stood up. “Okay. You know how to get in touch with me if you have any further questions.”
She got up and Drake came around the desk to escort her to the door. But before he opened it, his eyes caught hers, his expression serious. “Again, I’m so sorry about your father. I wish you girls had had a chance to get some closure in your relationship before he died.”
“Jodie mentioned some letters that Dad wrote to each of us before he died. Maybe that will help.”
“He was a sad and lonely man,” Drake said.
Lauren forced back her initial response and the guilt that always nipped at her. “I know we should have come to visit more often,” she agreed. And that was all she was going to say. The burden of guilt shouldn’t lie so heavy on her shoulders. Her father could have initiated some contact, as well.
She thanked Drake again and walked through the door.
Vic still sat there, but as she came out, he stood, his hat in his hand, his eyes on her. The gesture seemed so courtly, and for some reason it touched her.
“I need to talk to you” was all he said, his words clipped.
Lauren did not want to deal with this right now.
“I’m going to presume it has to do with your agreement with my father,” she said, weariness tingeing her voice, dragging at her limbs. She felt as if she’d been fighting this exhaustion for the past year. The stress of losing her job and trying to start a new business, and now needing to fulfill the terms of her father’s will, had made every decision seem momentous. Impossible.
“Can we talk now? Can I buy you a coffee at the Grill and Chill?”
“Not really. I just want to get to the ranch.”
“Meeting at the ranch would work better. We could do this right away.”
This was certainly not the homecoming she had expected, but in spite of her fatigue she sensed he wouldn’t let go. “May as well get this over and done with,” she said.
“I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
Lauren nodded, then walked to the door, disconcerted when he pulled it open for her, standing aside to let her through.
“Thank you,” she murmured, thankful she had worn her heels to see Drake Neubauer.
Though she doubted they’d made an impression on the lawyer, as she glanced up at Vic she appreciated the advantage they gave her.
The grim set of Vic’s jaw and his snapping brown eyes below dark, slashing brows sent a shiver down her spine that told her he would be trouble.
Chapter Two (#u06280ab8-0cb3-5d43-b7bd-db2988c85b54)
Vic parked his truck beside Lauren’s car and gave himself a moment to catch his breath, center himself. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out over the Rocking M. The house stood on a rise of land overlooking the corrals below. The corrals and pasture eased toward the Saddlebank River on one side and the rolling hills leading to the mountains on the other. So often he had driven this yard, imagining his brother living here
It was the promise he’d held out to Dean and himself that got him through the past ten months.
A way to assuage his own guilt over the fact that he had been too late to get Dean off that rank bronc at the rodeo. As a pickup man, it was Vic’s job to get the riders safely off the horse as soon as he saw they were in trouble.
But Vic had had other things on his mind that day. Other things that drew his attention.
It had only been a few seconds, the smallest moment when Vic made eye contact with Dean’s ex-girlfriend Tiffany sitting in the arena a few feet away. Smiling at her. Thinking about how they could be together again. She had told him that she’d broken up with Dean. She had called out to him just before Dean’s ride and blown him a kiss.
Then Vic had turned his head in time to catch the sight branded into his brain forever.
The bronc Dean was riding spinning away from where he and his horse were, ready. The horse making another turn, crushing Dean’s leg against the temporary panels set up in the arena. Dean’s leg getting caught in the crossbars as the horse pulled away.
Vic still heard his brother’s cries of agony, saw him writhing on the ground in the arena.
The girlfriend walked away from both of them a week later. Dean started walking four months later.
His brother still struggled with resentment and anger over what had happened.
And Vic wrestled with a guilt that gnawed at him each time he saw his brother grimace in pain. Each time he listened to Dean talk about how Tiffany had broken his heart.
Buying Keith McCauley’s ranch was supposed to fix all that.
And now?
Please, Lord, let that piece of paper be somewhere in the house. I need this place for Dean.
The prayer surged upward as he eased out of the truck, heading up the walk, the futility of it clawing at him. He and Jodie had discussed it only briefly, but she hadn’t found any evidence of this agreement.
Maybe she hadn’t searched hard enough, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the house. Maybe his presence would coax it out of its hiding place.
Keith hadn’t left anything about the lease agreement at Drake’s and he hadn’t given anything to Vic, so the only other place it could be was here. In Keith’s office in the ranch house.
As he sent up another prayer, he knocked on the door.
He heard laughter from within, and he eased out a wry smile. His own house was a somber, sad place. His father’s death a few months ago had only added to the heavy atmosphere looming over the house since Dean came home from the hospital three months before that, disabled and bitter. There’d been no laughter in the Moore household for a long time.
No one came to the door, so he rang the doorbell. Cheerful chimes pealed through the house, then he heard footsteps coming.
He wasn’t surprised to see Jodie answer, her head tipped to one side, her dark hair caught back in a loose ponytail, her bangs skimming eyes so blue they looked unnatural.
They were a different blue than Lauren’s, which were more gray. Cooler.
He shook that thought off. Lauren was attractive, yes, but he had to keep a level head. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a good-looking woman.
“Hey, Vic. Lauren said you were coming,” Jodie said, stepping aside to let him in. “I thought you’d be here sooner.”
“I had to stop at the dealership to get some parts for my horse trailer.” Nestor, who owned the place, had been particularly chatty. Then John Argall stopped in and asked him how Dean was doing and if Vic was coming back to Bible study. Vic had felt bad at the disappointment John had displayed. The past month he had taken on extra work. Work Dean would have done.
He didn’t blame his brother. Dean wasn’t as sure as Vic was that Keith had made proper arrangements to protect their handshake agreement so he went back to work for Jan Peter, a local carpenter. Vic hadn’t signed anything, but Keith had assured him that he had written something up.
He just needed to find it. Then Dean could stop working for Jan and they could start ranching together.
“Come in,” Jodie was saying. “Lauren and I were catching up. She’s trying to talk me out of purple bridesmaid dresses.”
“You’re not looking for my opinion, I hope?”
“I thought you could weigh in. When Lauren has an idea, she’s immovable.”
That didn’t bode well for any negotiations, Vic thought.
“Can’t say I have a lot of expertise in that area. I’m only standing up for Finn, and he told me to wear clean blue jeans.”
“Listen, mister, when it comes to wedding attire, you check with me before you check with my future husband.” But she spoke in a cheerful tone, adding a wink.
He returned Jodie’s smile, wide and open and happy, a much different woman than the one who’d come to Saddlebank with a chip on her shoulder and a cocky attitude. Now, engaged to Vic’s good friend Finn Hicks, she looked relaxed. Happy.
Vic wondered what Jodie thought of the potential buyer of the ranch and if she liked the idea. He was thinking of asking her but quashed that thought as he toed off his boots. He had to figure this out on his own. Bringing Jodie in would only create complications.
He set his scuffed and cracked cowboy boots beside Lauren’s high heels, the contrast making him laugh.
“We’re sitting in the dining room. Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure. Sounds good.” He followed Jodie through the kitchen. His steps slowed as he passed Keith’s office, which was opposite the eating bar of the kitchen, and he glanced inside the open door.
Papers covered the desk that ran along one wall. The filing cabinet’s top drawer was open.
“We’ve been going through Dad’s stuff,” Jodie said, catching the direction of his gaze. “I meant to do it when I first came but thought I would wait till Lauren was here. She’s the organized one.”
He suppressed the question that nagged at him. He had time yet. Lauren might have a buyer all lined up, but she still had to stay at the ranch for two months before she could make a decision.
He followed Jodie to the end of the house. Vaulted ceilings soaring two stories high arched over the living and dining room. Light from the upper windows slanted down into the space. A fireplace made of river rock bisected the far wall, framed by large bay windows overlooking the pasture and the mountains.
To his left a set of stairs led to the loft and a couple of bedrooms above, and the basement with its bedrooms downstairs. He knew the layout of the house because he had spent time here before.
Though all those stairs might not be best for Dean at the moment, his leg would get better. Vic had to believe that. And when he did, it would be a perfect place for his brother to live. A real home.
“Sit down. Ignore the mess,” Jodie said as she padded barefoot to the kitchen. She wore blue jeans, frayed at the cuffs, and a gauzy purple and pink shirt that had tiny bells sewn to the hem. The bells created a happy tinkling sound as she took a mug out of the cupboard and poured him some coffee.
Lauren, in her stark dress and hair still pulled back in a bun, was a complete contrast to her sister. She glanced up from papers strewn over the table. Her dark-framed glasses gave her an austere air. She held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.
Dismissed once again, he thought, remembering their earlier encounter too well.
“Finn told me you’re working the rodeo coming up?” Jodie said, setting the mug of coffee on the table.
“Yeah. Walden was short a pickup man, so I thought I’d help out.” Vic settled in the chair across from Lauren, taking the cup with a smile of thanks.
“You always were a pickup artist,” Jodie joked as she sat as well and shuffled through the papers in front of her.
“Oldest joke in the book,” Vic groaned.
“I feel like I should know what a pickup man is,” Lauren said, slipping her glasses off her face and setting them on the table.
“See that, Vic?” Jodie said, her voice holding a note of admiration. “That’s why I should wear glasses. People think you’re all smart and important. And when you take them off, it looks like you’re getting ready to do business. People take glasses-wearing people seriously.”
Vic chuckled as Lauren shot her sister a wry look. “You should take that show on the road,” Lauren said.
“It’s my only joke,” Jodie said with a grin. “Wouldn’t take me far.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have more you could add to your repertoire,” Lauren said, smiling back at her sister.
“You’d have to come with me as my straight man, though. A role you play to perfection.”
Lauren laughed again and Vic couldn’t look away. She was a beautiful woman in her own right. But now, relaxed, smiling, a glint of humor in her eyes as she teased her sister, the light from the window behind her lighting her hair, she was luminous.
He groaned inwardly as he took a sip of his coffee, frustrated with his response to this woman. He was here to talk business and he was coming up with mental compliments?
“Getting back to my original question, what is a pickup man?” Lauren asked.
Vic waited for Jodie to answer, but she was frowning at a piece of paper, seemingly unaware of her sister’s question. So Vic replied.
“We ride along the outskirts of the arena during the rough stock events—bareback, saddle bronc, bull and steer riding. We help the guys off the horses if we can, make sure the bulls and horses get out of the arena safely. That kind of thing.”
“I see,” said Lauren, the vague tone of her voice conveying her lack of interest.
“I know Walden is glad you’ll be there,” Jodie said. “He told me you guys work well together.”
“Who’s Walden?” Lauren asked.
“The other pickup man,” Vic said. “We always work in pairs.”
“You’ll have to come to the rodeo, Lauren. See Vic in action,” Jodie said. “And that horse that Finn trained. Adelaide, one of his clients, will be riding it in the barrel riding competition.”
“We’ll see how that works out.” Lauren’s polite smile seemed to dismiss that line of conversation. She slipped her glasses on her face and it was back to business. “We’ve been looking through our father’s papers and so far haven’t found anything referring to your deal.”
Vic glanced down at the folders lying on the table between them, resisting the impulse to riffle through them himself. “Your father and I agreed on a lease-to-buy agreement,” Vic said, struggling to keep his tone even. Pragmatic. “Are you sure he didn’t say anything about that to you or make a note of it anywhere?”
Lauren shook her head, picking up another file and opening it. “We haven’t seen everything yet, mind you, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Are there any files left? Did he have anything on the computer?”
Lauren frowned as she held his gaze. “Dad didn’t do much on the computer,” she said, dismissing that possibility. “Besides, we couldn’t figure out the password on it. I don’t suppose you would know?”
“Not a clue. Did you try the horses’ names?”
“Yeah. And his birth date, our birth dates—though I doubt he remembered them anyway—and in a pinch his and Mom’s anniversary. The name of the ranch. Nothing.”
“I can’t help you there.” He didn’t know Keith that well.
“Even if we could log on, I doubt there’s anything there, and even there was documentation, if it wasn’t signed...” Her voice trailed off.
Annoyance snaked through him. It was so easy for her to dismiss his claim. She didn’t know what was at stake.
“Would you mind if I looked through the papers myself?”
Her lips tightened and he wondered if she was afraid he might find something that would help his case. He held her eyes, as if challenging her, then she looked at Jodie.
“What do you think?” she asked her sister.
“I don’t care,” Jodie said with a shrug. “If Vic has a claim, maybe we need to see if we can find evidence for it. He might know better what he’s looking for.”
Lauren nodded and turned back to Vic, taking her glasses off again, ignoring Jodie’s chuckle at her action. “I doubt you’d find what you want. But if we don’t discover anything, I’m willing to sell the ranch to you, provided you can match the buyer’s price.”
“What price is that?”
When she named it, Vic’s mouth fell open as blood surged to his throat and chest, threatening to choke off his breathing.
There was no way he could meet that amount, but there was also no way he was telling her that. He swallowed hard and tried to claim some remnants of composure.
“I’ll have to talk my banker,” he said, attempting to inject some confidence into his voice. “But before I do that, I’d like to make sure that there is absolutely no evidence of the agreement. And I’d like to look for myself.”
Lauren gave him a tight nod. “I guess that’s fair, though, like I said, we didn’t find anything. You’d have to come here, though. To look at the papers. And one of us will have to be here.”
“You don’t trust me?” The words burst out of him before he could stop them.
Way to create a good impression.
Jodie patted him on the shoulder. “We trust you, Vic.” She turned to Lauren. “I trust him. He’s Finn’s friend and a good guy.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Lauren said, her mouth twisting in a cool smile. “I don’t trust any man.” Then she turned to Jodie. “But as far as his agreement with our father is concerned, there are other factors at play. If he finds something that corroborates his claim, it’s best that it happens here with us watching. That way no one can challenge it.”
He. His. She spoke of him as if he suddenly wasn’t there.
Vic took another sip of his coffee, reminding himself that he just had to get through this.
And, more than ever, he had to find some evidence of the deal he and Keith had drawn up.
There was no other choice.
* * *
“Confess. You think he’s cute.” Jodie plinked out a few more bars of her new composition on the piano in the corner of the living room and turned to her sister, grinning that smirk of hers that Lauren knew was trouble.
Lauren sent her sister a warning look over her laptop. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think he was attractive, but it’s irrelevant.” She turned her attention back to the purchase agreement the lawyers had drafted, sent to her by her future partner, Amy.
Part of her mind balked at the price tag, but it was an investment in building clients and staff. All of which would cost more to gather if they started from scratch.
“How is it irrelevant?” Jodie got up from the piano and fell onto the couch across from her. She dropped her feet on the coffee table, looking as if she was settling in for one of the heart-to-heart chats she loved.
“Don’t put your feet on the table,” Lauren chided.
“Don’t be Dad,” Jodie shot back, but her smile showed Lauren she hadn’t taken her seriously.
Lauren sighed and closed her laptop. Clearly she wasn’t getting anything done tonight.
“I think you should sell the ranch to Vic,” Jodie said. “He’s put a bunch of work into it and I’m sure he wants to buy it for Dean.”
“I’m not averse to selling the ranch to him,” Lauren said, slipping her reading glasses into their case. “If he can even match Alex Rossiter’s offer, he can have it. But I doubt he can. When I told him what Alex was paying, I thought he would keel over.”
Jodie twisted a strand of hair around her finger. Though her frown was partially hidden by her long bangs, it wasn’t hard to read her dissatisfaction.
“I can tell you don’t like the idea,” Lauren continued. “I’m not alone in this, you know. The ranch is one-third yours.”
“I know. Trouble is, I think you’re right in saying that Vic can’t match what Alex would pay you.” Jodie took her feet off the table and set them on the couch, lounging sideways. “What does that Alex guy want with the ranch?”
“He owns property in the Caribbean and now he wants a ranch.”
“A hobby ranch. To add to his collection.” Jodie’s voice held a faint sneer that Lauren chose to ignore. She wasn’t wild about the idea, either. She would prefer to see it sold as a working ranch to someone personally invested in the property.
Someone like Vic.
“I think he sees the ranch as more of an investment,” Lauren said. “But the stark reality is I need every penny of my third to buy into this new business. It’s a huge opportunity I can’t afford to let go. And if Vic needs the land base, he could lease it from Alex and run his cows.”
“It’s not the same. Alex would have all the control.”
Lauren understood Jodie’s concern. Wasn’t that the very reason she was buying this business—so she could have control over her own life instead of depending on the whims of employers?
And worthless fiancés?
“I can’t believe you would want to buy an accounting firm.” Jodie shifted her position, curling her legs under her. She could never sit still long. “Why don’t you just start your own accounting business? Just you. Why buy in to this one?”
“Because I need clients and I can’t take any of the accounts I brought into Jernowicz Brothers or the last firm I worked at with me to a new business without being sued, and it would take too long to build up a new customer base. Even one-third of the amount Alex is willing to pay, after taxes, is barely enough for my buy-in. But I can’t pass this up. It would mean a substantial income down the road, which means independence in many ways.”
“And that’s important to you.” Jodie’s words were more comment than condemnation.
It was important, Lauren thought, but not in the way that Jodie was implying. Not because money was the end-all and be-all for her.
After being dumped at the altar only to discover that she’d been lied to and milked dry by her ex-fiancé, then, in the past couple of months, fired by her most recent boss, Lauren needed some control in her life. Though Jodie knew about the canceled wedding, she knew little about the amounts of money Lauren had set aside to get the business she and Harvey had hoped to start on their own. She’d worked at Jernowicz Brothers, disliking every minute of the high-pressure job, while Harvey got things together for their eventual departure from the firm.
When he’d left her at the altar, he’d not only broken her heart, he had broken their bank account. The money they had set aside for the start of their new business had disappeared with him.
But she was too ashamed to tell Jodie that. She had always been the good example of what hard work could do. She wasn’t about to share how badly Harvey had duped her.
With anyone.
“It’s important to me to establish my independence,” Lauren said instead. “I’ve lived enough of my life for other people—” She stopped there, not wanting Jodie to think that she resented the time she’d spent taking care of her. Taking care of their grandmother.
“You’ve done enough of that,” Jodie agreed. “And I can understand that you’d want that, but I know enough of Vic that he wouldn’t make this claim lightly. And if we find something to prove Vic’s claim—” Jodie pressed, clearly unwilling to let this go.
“We haven’t yet, and I doubt Dad would have hidden a paper like that away.”
“He didn’t exactly make the letters he wrote to us easy to find.”
“They weren’t hard to find, either,” Lauren said, stifling a yawn. It had been a long, tiring day. Her head ached from thinking and phoning and planning and from reading her father’s letters.
After his cancer diagnosis, their father had written each of the girls a letter apologizing for his behavior to them. It had been emotionally draining reading his words.
Though regret dogged her with every sentence her father had penned, she couldn’t forget the tension that had held them all in a complicated grip each time they came to visit. He alternated between domineering and absent, angry and complacent. Though Lauren was sad he was gone, his loss didn’t create the aching grief losing her mother and grandmother had.
But knowing that he did care, that he had felt bad about their relationship, had eased some of the residual bitterness from their time together.
“So what did you think about what Dad wrote?” Jodie asked. “Do you feel better about him now?”
Lauren reached over to the coffee table and picked up the handwritten letter Jodie had given her shortly after she’d arrived.
“I never had the issues with Dad that you did,” Lauren said. “We never fought like you guys did, so I don’t think I had as much to forgive him for. Knowing that he had sent money to Mom after their divorce helps. Mom always made it sound like he didn’t support her and us at all. I don’t want to get all psychoanalytical, but I think his absence in our lives, and how he treated us when we were here, had repercussions for all of us.”
“Probably. Even Erin, who has always toed every line in her life, followed every rule without questioning, has had her relationship issues.” Jodie shifted herself on the couch again. “I thought for sure she and that doctor guy she was dating would get married, but they broke up over half a year ago.”
“She say anything to you about why they broke up?”
“Not a word. I know she’s secretive, but she’s been freaking me out with the radio silence she’s been maintaining.” Jodie sighed.
“I know, but at least she’s staying in touch.”
“If you want to call the occasional two-word text with emoticons staying in touch.”
“It’s better than nothing.” Lauren had her own concerns about Erin, but she also knew her twin sister. Erin was a quiet and private person, something their ebullient younger sister didn’t always understand. When she wanted to talk, she would. “You have Finn now, and it looks to me like you’ve found a place to settle after all the wandering you’ve been doing.”
“I have. I’ve learned many things about myself over the years, and Finn has helped me through a lot. He makes me feel...complete. Loved. Treasured.”
“I’m happy for you,” Lauren said, trying hard to keep the note of envy out of her voice. She knew how unworthy Jodie had felt for much of her life. Lauren could identify all too well and was thankful her sister had found someone. Was thankful Jodie dared trust someone again.
She wasn’t sure the same could happen to her.
“Oh, Lauren. I’m sorry,” Jodie said, sitting up, instantly contrite. “I shouldn’t be...all...happy and stuff.”
“Of course you should,” Lauren hastened to assure her. “I am happy for you. So happy. You had so many disappointments in your life. You deserve this.”
“Don’t know if deserve is the right word, but I am grateful,” Jodie murmured. She gave Lauren a reassuring smile. “There’s someone for you. I just know it.”
“There might well be,” Lauren said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I don’t want or need another relationship.”
Jodie nodded, but Lauren saw her glance at the diamond ring on her finger. Her satisfied and peaceful smile created a nasty twist of jealousy.
At one time Lauren had worn a ring, too. At one time she had been making wedding plans.
She wasn’t ready to go there again. Between her father’s neglect and anger, and Harvey’s lies, and her past bosses’ treatment, she’d had enough.
But your father apologized.
She held that voice a moment, realizing that the apology had gone a long way to helping her settle the past.
However, he still had placed conditions on them. And as she fought a touch of resentment over that, a picture of Vic sitting across from her, holding her gaze, slipped into her mind. She knew Vic wasn’t letting go of his claim on the ranch until he knew, without a doubt, that her father hadn’t written anything up.
Which meant he would be around more than she liked. Not that she was attracted to him. She was never going down that road again.
* * *
Vic drove the tractor into the yard and pulled in front of Keith McCauley’s shop, frustrated that he hadn’t checked the amount of twine he had left in the baler before he started out this morning. He should have taken more with him, but he had been rushing all morning ever since he overslept.
Too much thinking last night, he told himself as he climbed out of the tractor. Too much on his mind. Dean. His widowed mother.
The missing deal with Keith. If he didn’t find the papers, Lauren was ready to sell the ranch. At a price he couldn’t afford.
He’d prayed about it and struggled to release it all into God’s hands, but he kept pulling back.
Stay focused. You’ll find the agreement.
He just wasn’t sure when that was supposed to happen.
He stepped into the shop, the light from the open door slanting into the dark of the cool building. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the indoors from the bright sunlight outside.
But as he walked across the uneven concrete floor, he heard rustling and clanging coming from inside. He walked closer, listening. He reached for the door just as it opened under his hand.
Lauren stepped out carrying a shovel.
She wore blue jeans today and a dark T-shirt. Her hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, and as she looked up at him, the shovel fell to the floor with a clatter, her hand on her chest as she stumbled backward.
She would have fallen, but Vic caught her by one arm, pulling her upright. They stood that way a moment and he caught a whiff of her perfume.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide, a soft gray in the low light. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, some grass stuck in her hair.
“Oh. It’s you,” she said, breathless as she pulled away from him.
The speed with which she did it almost unbalanced her again, but this time she grabbed the door handle, looking hastily away.
“Yeah. I just needed some more twine for the baler.” He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “Sorry I bothered you.”
“No. No. That’s fine. I just was startled. That’s all.” She pushed her hair back with the palm of her hand, creating another smudge of dirt. “I thought you were Jodie. She went to town and said she would be back soon.”
With her blue jeans and casual shirt, dirty face and messy hair, she looked even more appealing than she normally did.
And he was, suddenly, not in any rush to find another roll of baler twine.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face,” he said, pointing.
Lauren hastily scrubbed at her cheeks but only managed to make it worse.
Vic pulled out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Use this.”
She frowned as she looked down at the red polka-dotted square.
“I haven’t used it yet,” he assured her.
“Thanks, but that’s not what I was worried about. I don’t meet many men who actually use the hankies they carry.” She hurriedly wiped her face, as if embarrassed he had caught her looking less than her best. “Though they’re not called hankies, technically they’re pocket squares and they’re usually white, artfully folded and peeking out of a suit pocket.” Then she released a short laugh. “Sorry. Babbling.” She looked up at him, her expression questioning. “Did I get it all?”
“Still some on your left cheek,” he said, pointing with his right hand. She wiped her right cheek. “No. The other left cheek,” he said with a grin.
She wiped furiously at her left cheek but still missed the spot.
“A little more to the left,” he said. A deep frown creased her forehead as she moved to the right, scrubbing again as if it was important she remove this dirt.
He finally took the hankie from her, caught her chin in his hand and wiped off the dirt himself. It was still smudged, but the worst was off.
He was disconcerted to see her looking up at him, her face holding a curious expression. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his hands. “I thought...you...you’d...”
“No. Thanks. It’s okay. I hate being dirty. Just a thing. Thanks.”
“Well, if that’s a problem, you’ve also got some grass in your hair.” But this time, instead of explaining, he plucked it out himself.
“I guess I’m ready to face the world,” she said with a nervous laugh, pulling away as he tugged at another piece.
As she did, his hand accidentally brushed her cheek, and she jumped as if he had struck her.
“Sorry,” she said, sounding breathless as she leaned over to pick up the shovel. “Still jumpy. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“That was my fault. I didn’t think anyone was in here, either. What are you doing with the shovel?”
“I’m cleaning out the flower beds. They’re horribly overgrown. I used to take care of them every summer when we came to visit. Dad must have let them get out of hand.”
“Your dad wasn’t much for gardening,” Vic said.
Lauren smiled at him and something dangerous shifted deep in his soul. He knew those first few whispers of attraction. Had felt them many times before. The last time was with Tiffany. Dean’s ex-girlfriend.
The memory was like a slap and he knew he should leave. Yet, against his better judgment, he lingered.
“The lawn is crazy, as well,” she continued as he mentally made his retreat from her. “I’m going to have to do three passes with the lawnmower before it’s acceptable. And I’d like to go into town tomorrow to pick up some flowers. I think the greenhouse is still selling them.”
“Why are you even bothering?” he asked, curiosity keeping him from stepping away. Curiosity and a deep loneliness that had been haunting him the past few months. He hadn’t dated since Tiffany had told him she loved him. That she wanted to break up with Dean and get back together with him. They had dated previously, but she had broken up with him to date his brother. Then realized her mistake and wanted to get back together with Vic. He’d told her she had to do the right thing and tell his brother.
Her timing was atrocious. His inattention and Dean’s anger had contributed to Dean’s accident. Vic felt he was still paying for that mistake.
But now Lauren stood in front of him, attractive, appealing and, truth to tell, probably just as off-limits as Tiffany had been.
“Why bother?” she repeated with a gentle smile that didn’t help his resolve. “It’s something to do and, well, I’d like to make it nice for the future buyer.”
Her words created a clench deep and low, bringing reality into their cozy little conversation.
“Of course. Good idea.” He straightened his shoulders as if readying himself for whatever lay ahead. “I’ll be done baling this field in a couple of hours. Would it be okay if I come inside and look through your father’s papers afterward?”
“I’m meeting Keira Fortier for supper at the Grill and Chill tonight, so I don’t think so.”
“Another time, then?”
“Sure. When it works.”
Vic fought down his frustration at her nonchalant attitude. This was as important to her as it was to him.
But she had choices.
He didn’t.
Chapter Three (#ulink_c4318e56-72f2-500b-90f4-21a1716eec0d)
Vic lay on his back on the hay field, straining at the wrench. Grass slithered down his back as he wrestled with the bolt on the broken U joint connecting the PTO drive to the baler. Another day, another breakdown.
Yesterday he’d managed to get most of the one field baled. Today he wasn’t sure he would get as much done.
Sweat streamed down his forehead into his eyes. It was hot and he was only half-done baling when the power take-off connecting the tractor to the baler rammed up.
He blinked and tugged again, pushing even harder. Finally the wrench moved. But his damp hands slid along the handle of the wrench banging into the shaft of the PTO, scraping the skin off his knuckles.
He sucked in a breath, allowed himself a flash of self-pity, then picked up the wrench and got the bolt off, blood mingling with sweat on his hands.
He pulled the shaft of the PTO loose, ignoring the throbbing ache in his hands he finished the job.
He pulled out the broken U joint and got to his feet.
As he brushed dried grass off his shirt and pants, he stared at the clear blue sky that seemed to mock him. Hard to believe that rain would be pouring down tomorrow as the forecast on his phone showed. But he’d been fooled by that cloudless blue sky before, so he had to get to town as soon as possible, get the U joint welded, get back, fix it and get going until either evening dew or impending rain forced him to quit.
He shifted the U joint in his hands and trudged across the stubble of the hay field, thankful that the breakdown had happened so close to the yard. He saw his truck, parked now beside Lauren’s car.
And beyond that, he saw Lauren working on the flower beds by the house.
Her car had been gone when he got here early this morning. Last night he hadn’t had the opportunity to look for the agreement. So he had come early. But she hadn’t been in the house this morning, either. Instead he’d gone directly to the tractor, hooked up the baler and gotten to work. She had returned about an hour ago. Now she was outside, working.
He climbed over the fence and headed toward his truck, wondering if he should stop and say hi.
Trouble was, he could still feel a flush of embarrassment at that little moment they had shared in the garage yesterday. He still wasn’t sure what made him do it. He’d thought he was just being helpful, but when his hand brushed her cheek, a tiny shock had shot through him. Like electricity.
Like the feeling of a growing attraction he couldn’t allow himself to indulge in.
He dropped the U joint into his jockey box at the back of the truck and was about to get in when he heard Lauren call his name, then saw her jog toward him.
As she came closer, he was unable to stop his heart lifting at the sight of her. Sandals and blue jeans again today, white tank top, hair tied back, tiny curls framing her flushed face.
She ran the back of her hand over her damp forehead as she stopped in front of him, breathless.
“Sorry to bother you. I was hoping to go into town again this afternoon, but my car has a flat tire. Do you know whom I can call to get it fixed? Jodie is in Bozeman and not answering my calls. And Aunt Laura has been gone the past few days.”
“I can change the tire for you.”
“No. You’ve got your own work to do,” Lauren said, turning down his offer with a flutter of her hands, her bright red nail polish flashing in the sun. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“If you’ve got a decent spare, it’s no trouble.”
“I should know how to do it myself, but living in the city...” She shrugged her shoulder. “I’d just call roadside assistance.”
“Well, even if you called the tow truck, it could take a couple of hours before Dwayne got here.” Vic gave her a crooked smile. “So, that leaves me, I guess. Unless you want to wait.”
“I feel bad asking you.”
Vic didn’t even answer, just headed over to her car. The rim of the front driver’s side tire was resting on the ground, the tire a puddle of rubber underneath it.
“Doesn’t get much flatter,” he said. “Where’s your spare and jack?”
“All I know is that it’s in the back. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll figure it out.”
He opened the trunk and a few minutes later managed to finagle the full-size spare tire out of its compartment. When he dropped it on the ground, instead of a little bounce, it landed like a rock on its rim, as flat as the tire he was supposed to replace.
“Oh, no. I forgot that I’d already had a flat tire a couple of weeks ago,” Lauren said with a note of disgust. “Stupid of me.”
“I’m going into town now,” Vic said. “I’ll bring the tires in and get them fixed.”
Lauren nodded, but Vic saw that she looked disappointed. Then he remembered. “You said you needed to go into town yourself. I can bring you where you want to go.”
She hesitated, then gave him a sheepish smile. “That’d be great. I feel silly about that, too, because I was in town this morning and when I came home I realized I forgot some groceries.”
“Get in. I’ll drop you off and get your tire fixed.”
“I just need to change, if that’s okay.”
“No problem,” he said, though he wondered why. He thought she looked fine.
Of course he wasn’t one to judge what was suitable, he thought, glancing down at his grease-stained blue jeans and dirty shirt.
He manhandled the tires into the back of the truck, getting even more dirt on his shirt. He called the machine shop to see if he could get the part in, and thankfully they could repair it while he waited.
He brushed some hay off his shirt, beat his dusty cowboy hat against his leg and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. That was about as changed as he was getting.
A few moments later Lauren came down the walk and Vic felt even shabbier. She wore a blue-striped button-down shirt, narrow black skirt and white canvas shoes. Her hair was pulled back again into a ponytail and she had even put on some makeup.
In a mere ten minutes she had transformed from a country girl to a city slicker.
“We’ll bring your tires in first, then I’ll need to drop my part off at the machine shop, if that’s okay,” Vic said as they got into the truck.
“You’re doing me a huge favor. I can hardly dictate the terms of the arrangement,” Lauren said, setting her purse on her lap.
Vic acknowledged that with a nod, then headed down the driveway toward the gravel road and town.
“I noticed you were haying. How many acres of the ranch are in hay?” Lauren asked.
“About two hundred and fifty.” He wondered why she asked.
“Is that a lot?”
“It’s enough to keep my cows in feed. My dad and I turned our own hay fields on the ranch into pasture, because the land here is more fertile and gets me better yields.”
“But there is some pasture here?”
“Oh, yeah. I run some cows here, too. Mostly up in the high pasture behind the ranch and across the road.”
“I see.” Lauren folded her hands on her purse and gave him a quick glance. “Sounds kind of silly that I know so little about the ranch. I never paid much attention to it. Erin was the one who liked to help. She’d spend hours wandering the back fields and occasionally working with our father.”
“I remember Erin. She was a sweet girl.”
“Very sweet. Hard to believe we were twins. She always made me try to be a better person. Somehow, she was the only one of us girls who got along with our father when we came back here. She never resented leaving Knoxville like Jodie and I did.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but half of his attention was on Lauren.
“So you didn’t like it here?” he asked. “Coming every summer?”
“I missed my friends back home and I always felt bad leaving Gramma behind, but there were parts I liked.”
“I remember seeing you girls in church on Sunday.” Jodie had usually worn some goofy outfit that Vic was sure Keith had vetoed, Erin a ruffly dress and Lauren the same simple clothes she favored now.
“Part of the deal,” Lauren said, but a faint smile teased one corner of her mouth. “And I didn’t mind that part, either. I liked hearing Aunt Laura play, and the message was always good, once I started really listening. I can’t remember who the pastor was at that time, but much of what he said resonated with me.”
“Jodie and Erin would attend some of the youth events, didn’t they?”
“Erin more than any of us. Like I said, she was the good girl.”
“I remember my brother, Dean, talking about her,” Vic said, surprised to see her looking at him. “I think he had a secret crush on her.”
“He was impetuous, wasn’t he?”
“That’s being kind. He was out of control for a while. But he’s settled now.”
Vic thought of the journey Dean had made to get to where he was. Which brought up the same pressing problem that had brought him early to the ranch.
His deal with Keith.
“So, I hate to be a broken record,” he continued, “But it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. I was wondering if I could come by the house then? To go through your father’s papers?”
Lauren’s sigh was eloquent as was the way her hands clasped each other tightly.
Vic tamped down his immediate apology. He had nothing to feel bad about. He was just doing what he’d promised himself he’d do after Dean’s accident. Looking out for his brother’s interests.
“Yes. Of course. Though—” She stopped herself there. “Sorry. You probably know better what you’re looking for.”
Vic shot her a glance across the cab of the truck. “I’m not trying to be ornery or selfish or jeopardize your deal. When I first leased the ranch from your father, it was so that my brother could have his own place. And I’m hoping to protect that promise I made him. Especially now. After his accident.”
Lauren’s features relaxed enough that he assumed he was getting through to her.
“I’m sorry. I understand,” she said, her smile apologetic. “I know what it’s like to protect siblings. I did plenty of that in my life.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“Erin and I are twins, but I’m older by twenty minutes. And you?”
“The same. So yeah, I hear you on the protecting the younger ones.”
Lauren smiled back at him. And as their eyes held, he felt it again. An unexpected and surprising rush of attraction. When her eyes grew ever so slightly wider and her head lowered just a fraction, he wondered if she felt it, too.
He dragged his attention back to the road and fought down the emotions.
You’re no judge of your feelings, he reminded himself, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as if reining in his attraction to this enigmatic woman.
He’d made mistakes in the past, falling for the wrong person. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t afford to.
Especially not with Lauren.
* * *
“You can still plant these this year, but you won’t see them flower fully until next season.”
The young girl wearing a green apron, a huge smile and a smudge of dirt on her neck held up the pot holding the spiky-leafed lily. She turned it as if checking it from all angles. “It’s a stargazer and they tend to bloom a little later in the season than the Asiatic does.”
The warm afternoon sun filtered through the greenhouse, creating a tropical warmth. Plants in full bloom filled most of the wooden benches with swaths of pink and yellow petunias, the delicate blue, lavender and white of the lobelia, the hard red, salmon, white and pink of geraniums. People filled the aisles, talking, comparing, and laughing. A few people had greeted Lauren, some she recognized, but she couldn’t pull their names out of her memory.
The atmosphere in this place was one of quiet and peace. As she drew in a deep breath of the peaty scent, a sense of expectation thrummed through her. Though it was getting close to the end of the planting season, the shop still had a lot of stock.
“Which color is this lily?”
“This is the deep pink one. The flowers are edged with white and the spots on them are a darker shade of pink. They smell heavenly, though some people find it strong.”
The young girl, Nadine, had been a veritable font of information. Lauren found herself wandering deeper and deeper into the greenhouse and buying far more plants than she had anticipated.
She had quickly gotten her groceries, and instead of waiting, had come into the greenhouse, which was right beside the grocery store.
And then she met Nadine, and here she was, eight pots and seven twelve-packs of flowers later. Helping her aunt in her flower shop had given Lauren some knowledge. Though she knew little about bedding out plants and perennials, she was learning.
She shot a quick glance at her watch. Vic had said he would meet her in front of the store at two. It was only one forty-five.
“They come in white, as well,” Nadine said. “Just think how nice they could look together. A cluster of white in the middle of a bunch of pink. You’d have to buy more than one white, though.”
“You’re bad for my wallet, girl,” Lauren chided as she picked up the tag attached to the plant Nadine had pointed out. It showed a large white six-petaled flower with ruffled edges. She was imagining them in the rock garden that edged the deck. Neither she nor her sisters had met their father’s mother who, apparently, was an avid gardener when she lived on the ranch.
Lauren’s mother had never been interested in gardening, and when Lauren and her sisters had visited the ranch, they’d been too young to care.
“Did you get your grocery shopping done?”
The deep voice behind her made her jump and Lauren spun around to see Vic standing there, thumbs hanging above the large buckle of his belt. He had rolled up the sleeves of his stained twill shirt, the hat pulled over his head now tipped to one side.
His mouth curved in a laconic smile, but she easily saw the warmth of his eyes.
She swallowed, frustrated again at the effect this man had on her.
“Yes. I put the bags close to the entrance,” she said. “One of the cashiers said she would watch them for me.”
“They’re in the truck already,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Sonja told me you were in here and that you’d left her in charge of your food.”
She had felt strange enough leaving her groceries with the chatty woman at the front desk who assured her she wouldn’t eat her food. But then to have Vic simply load them in the truck?
“Everyone knows everyone in Saddlebank and even worse, everyone’s business,” he said, his grin deepening. “Am I right, Nadine?” he asked the greenhouse clerk, winking at her.
The girl blushed, looking down at the pot she still held, turning it over. “Yeah. Well. That’s Saddlebank.” She gave Vic another shy glance, her flush growing.
Nice to know she wasn’t the only one he had this effect on, Lauren thought, reminding herself to stay on task. To keep her focus.
You have your own plans. He’s just a hindrance and a distraction.
A good-looking distraction, she conceded, but a distraction nonetheless.
“So what do you all have here?” he asked, pointing to the plants.
“Gerberas, lilies, petunias, some marigolds. Lobelia, geraniums and million bells—”
“Gotcha,” he said, holding his hands up as if to stop her, looking somewhat overwhelmed. “Do you need help packing these up?”
Lauren glanced from the wagon holding the flowers she had chosen to the rest of the greenhouse. She could spend another hour wandering, planning and dreaming, but she had taken up enough of Vic’s time and she knew he was anxious to get back to work.
“I have to pay for them first,” she said. She turned the cart around and walked down the wooden aisles to the checkout counter.
But her feet slowed as she passed a preplanted pot of pink and purple million bells, white lobelia, trailing sweet potato vine and yellow aspermums. She pinched off a dead flower, her hand arranging the one vine.
“That’s pretty,” Vic said, his voice holding a note of approval.
“I love the colors they’ve used. It would look lovely on a deck.” Then she pulled her hand back, knowing that she had already spent more than she should, and marched on, resisting the temptation.
She got to the cashier, unloaded her plants on the old wooden counter, pulled her debit card out of her wallet and slapped it on the counter as if afraid her more practical self would convince her it was a waste of money.
“You’ve got some lovely plants.” Sonja bustled about as she rang them up on the old-fashioned cash register, her gray curls bouncing. She was an older woman, with a rough voice and a broad smile. Her T-shirt proclaimed Life’s a Garden. Dig It. “If you need any help or advice, you just call. We can answer all your questions. ’Course, you have your aunt to help you out. I know you used to help her at the flower shop from time to time,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I feel like I should remember you,” Lauren said.
“I used to deliver perennial pots to your aunt’s shop,” Sonja said. “Used to see you and your sisters there once in a while.”
Then Lauren did remember. Sonja was always laughing and joking, her personality filling the store, making it a fun and happy place to be.
But before Lauren could say anything, Sonja was finished with her and already on to the next customer. Lauren looked around for Vic, doing a double take as she realized he was purchasing the pot she had just admired.
“Figured if you liked it, so would my mom,” he said as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Your mother will love them.” Sonja rang up his purchase, smiling her approval. “Very considerate of you.”
“I’m angling for son of the year,” Vic said.
“And he’ll get it, don’t you think, Lauren?”
“I guess” was all Lauren could muster. She was still wrapping her head around a guy buying a potted plant for his mother.
“Our Vic is an amazing young man,” Sonja said, her voice heavy with meaning. She gave Lauren a knowing look that she didn’t have to interpret. “A girl would be lucky to have him.”
“I think it’s time to load up what we got and get out of here,” Vic cut in with a sheepish smile as he set the pot he’d just bought on the two-layered cart holding Lauren’s plants.
“You know I’m right,” Sonja teased, looking from Vic to Lauren as if connecting the two. “You won’t find better in all of Saddlebank.”
“Now it’s really time to go,” Vic said, ushering Lauren out of the store. His truck was right out the door and he opened the back door of the double cab. “If it’s okay with you, I thought we could set them here,” he said as he started unloading them.
“But you’ll get the floor of your truck dirty,” Lauren protested. The carpet was immaculately clean and the seats even more so.
“It’s honest dirt,” he said, tossing her a grin as he took the pots from her and set them on the carpet. “Sorry about Sonja, by the way. She’s the local busybody.”
“I remember her coming into my aunt’s flower shop,” Lauren said. Sonja’s comment had made her even more aware of Vic than she liked. “She was like this ball of energy.”
“That about sums her up.” He got into the truck. “Do you need to do anything else?”
“I think I’ve taken enough of your time and spent enough of my money. I know you want to get back to your hay baling.”
“Yeah. I do. Thanks.”
A few minutes later they were back on the highway, headed toward the ranch. Lauren’s groceries were stashed on the floor of the truck by her feet.
“By the way, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the tires,” Lauren said. “But shouldn’t we have stopped to pay for them?”
“You can next time you’re in town. I talked to Alan, who runs the place. He said it was okay.”
Lauren shook her head. “Small towns,” she said. “I can’t imagine getting away with running a business like that in Boston or Fresno.”
“You lived in both those places?”
“And Chicago, and New York for a month. I live in Charlotte, North Carolina, now.”
“That’s a lot of moving.”
“Harvey, my fiancé was a real go-getter. Always looking for a better job.”
“And you followed him around?”
“Sort of. His opportunities were good for me, as well.” She was surprised at how his comment made her feel.
“Your dad said you worked as an accountant.”
Lauren chuckled at the grimace on his face. “It’s good work.”
Vic shuddered. “Numbers are not my friends. I can’t imagine working with them all day.”
“To each his own,” she said. “I like how predictable and orderly they make life. There’s no surprises or guesswork. One plus one will always equal two.”
“Do you enjoy it? Is it your passion?”
Lauren opened her mouth to say yes but hesitated. To say it was her passion wasn’t correct. “I’m good at it and it pays well.”
Vic laughed and she shot him a puzzled glance. “Is it the money? That why you do it? You don’t seem like that kind of person.”
Lauren’s back stiffened. “No. Of course not. I do it because I’m competent. I’m trained for it and because...because...well... I’ve got this opportunity now to start my own business and...” For a few long moments she couldn’t latch on to any solid reason why. No one had ever asked her. Harvey had always assumed this was what she should do.
She turned away from Vic and his probing questions and curious expression. The uncertainty his comments raised frustrated her. Then came a chilling realization.
It’s because that’s all you’ve ever done.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Vic said. “I was just making conversation.”
She suddenly felt as if the ground that she had always thought of as solid and unmoving had shifted.
You don’t seem like that kind of person.
How did he know what she was like?
“It’s all right,” she said, giving him a careful smile. “For some reason your comment caught me unawares.”
“Never a good place to be caught,” Vic said. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Please don’t apologize. If I’m honest, money is part of it, that’s true enough. There never was enough when I was growing up. I remember reading the beatitudes and Jesus saying, ‘Blessed are the poor,’ and I thought he was wrong. There was no blessing in being broke. There was no honor in buying clothes from a thrift store and getting teased about them. Jodie managed to find her own style. But I used to be ashamed that my clothes were secondhand, and Gramma chastised me many times for that. She often made me feel guilty that I wanted more. Even Dad would tell me not to be so proud.”
“Keith was a frugal man.”
“That’s a kind way of saying he was stingy.”
Vic gave her another one of his killer smiles that touched her soul.
“So what was your passion when you were younger?” he pressed. “What did you always want to do? Where were you the happiest?”
Lauren considered his questions. “You know, my favorite times were when I was in my aunt’s flower shop. My dad would send us there once in a while when he didn’t know what else to do with us. I loved working with the flowers. I loved watching my aunt arrange them and combine colors and textures and create interesting displays. When I was older, she let me try my hand at it.” She released a light laugh. “I think the true appeal of my aunt’s shop was the calm I felt there. The happiness. It was like a little sanctuary for me and my sisters.”

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