A Real Cowboy. Carla CassidyЧитать онлайн книгу.
pleased and to entertain whomever they wanted. For Lucas it was just a place to be alone.
The dining area behind the private rooms held not only tables and benches for eating, but also a stone fireplace, two sofas, a couple of easy chairs and a television that was rarely turned on. The meals were prepared by an old cowhand nicknamed Cookie who had worked as the ranch cook for all of the nearly fifteen years that Lucas had been at Cass’s place.
Lucas unlocked the door to his unit and stepped inside. He sat on the edge of the double-sized bed. Other than the clothes that hung on a small rod and the toiletries beneath the small sink, the room held nothing else personal.
He stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling and wondered what Cassandra would have to say to the men the next morning. Was this the beginning of a new era or was she the beginning of their end?
He’d had a faint sick feeling in his stomach since the moment he’d seen that red high heel step out of the car. He’d already lost the woman who had transformed his life. Now he feared that they were all about to lose their jobs and the place that had been, for some, their only real home.
It would be the end of family, the end of life as they all knew it. Cass’s death had already been a devastating blow to them all, and he had a feeling the bad times weren’t over yet.
* * *
Nicolette sat across from her best friend and business partner at the round wooden table in the kitchen. Sammy was upstairs, unpacking his things in the small room with the twin beds.
“I didn’t expect the ranch to be so big,” Cassie said as she wrapped her fingers around a hot mug of coffee. “I mean, I knew on paper how much acreage there was, but I didn’t really grasp it.”
“That’s because the concept of big to us is an apartment with three bedrooms,” Nicolette replied.
Cassie smiled, but only briefly. “I also didn’t expect to see all the damage.”
Nicolette nodded. “You hear about tornadoes and the damage they do on the news, but you don’t really get a clear picture unless you actually see it with your own eyes.”
As they’d driven past the small town of Bitterroot on their way to the ranch, they’d witnessed the devastation in the area that the massive storm cell had left behind.
“I feel so bad that it’s hard for me to mourn a woman I scarcely knew. I mean, I only saw Aunt Cass a couple of times when I was young and then after my parents died we kept up through occasional letters, but we weren’t exactly close,” Cassie said. “We lived in such different worlds. I never dreamed that if anything happened to her I’d inherit her ranch.”
“Have you definitely decided what you’re going to do?” Nicolette asked Cassie. She knew how stunned Cassie had been to learn that her aunt Cass had died and left her as sole beneficiary to a working ranch with over a dozen employees.
Cassie sat back in the kitchen chair and looked around the large kitchen. Her friend was probably thinking of how different this kitchen was from the one they shared in their tiny Manhattan apartment.
“I’m still thinking that the best option is to get the damage cleaned up as quickly as possible and then sell the place. I’d make enough money from the sale that we could move into a bigger apartment and get a larger storefront to sell both my artwork and your clothing line.”
Nicolette grinned ruefully. “Right now my clothing line is just a bunch of sketches in a book.”
“But, if I sell this place we could make it all a reality,” Cassie replied. “We could even afford to actually hire some help so that we aren’t spending all our time at the store.”
“What about the people who work here?” Nicolette’s head instantly filled with a vision of the tall handsome cowboy who had greeted them.
Cassie waved a hand as if to dismiss the hired help. “I imagine the new owner would probably want to keep most of them.” A grin lit her face and a small laugh escaped her lips. “I can’t believe Sammy told that man what you said about cowboys.”
Warmth leaped into Nicolette’s cheeks. “I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”
Cassie laughed again. “At least he appeared to take it all in good humor.”
“I guess, although he seemed pretty brusque after that when he showed us around the house.” She looked at her watch. “It’s getting late. I need to get Sammy into a bath and to bed.”
“Yeah, and I should probably go to bed pretty soon if I’m going to be up by six to meet with all the cowboys. You will come with me, won’t you?” Cassie looked at her hopefully.
“Are you going to tell them tomorrow that you intend to sell the place?” Nicolette asked.
Her friend frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’ll just keep that to myself for right now and if anyone asks you, you don’t know what my plans are.”
“Are you sure you want to play it that way?” Nicolette asked, and got up from the table. “Maybe it would be better if you’d just be up-front with everyone.”
Cassie’s frown deepened. “I’m afraid if they know I’m planning on selling out, they’ll all quit and find other jobs before the work here gets done. They certainly don’t owe me any loyalty. Besides, at this moment I have no idea for sure what I intend to do. Just please tell me you’ll be there with me in the morning when I face them all.” Cassie got up from the table, a look of pleading on her pretty face.
Nicolette released a deep mock sigh. “You know that means that I’ll have to wake up my six-year-old son to come to the bunkhouse with us, but you also know I’ll do it because I owe you so much.”
“Nonsense, you don’t owe me anything.” Together they put their cups in the sink and then headed for the stairs.
Nicolette told Cassie good-night as she veered into the first bedroom, where her son had unpacked his suitcase and was now seated on the bed clad in his pajamas with his handheld game system in play.
“Whoa, what are you doing in your pajamas already?” Nicolette asked. “You know it’s always bath time before bedtime.”
Sammy didn’t look up from his game. “I took a bath last night, Mom. That means I don’t have to take a bath until next Friday night. I told you that I’ve decided I’m going to be a cowboy.”
“Sammy, I’m not going to argue with you about this. Now, get into the bathroom and into the tub.”
He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes filled with innocence. “But, we’re on a ranch and I just told you I’m a cowboy like Cowboy Lucas and he told me cowboys only take a bath once a week.” His chin jutted out in a show of stubbornness.
“Cowboy Lucas was just joking,” Nicolette replied, knowing that it was her own words and Lucas’s response that had prompted this ridiculous problem.
Normally Sammy was a good, obedient child, but on the rare occasion he got that chin-jutting going on he became a monster child who could throw a tantrum as big as the entire state of Oklahoma.
“He wasn’t joking. He didn’t even smile when he told me cowboys took baths once a week,” Sammy replied and folded his arms across his chest.
A rising irritation began to build in Nicolette, not because of the child on the bed, but rather toward the man who had filled his head with such nonsense.
“If Cowboy Lucas tells you he was just joking with you, then will you be a good boy and get into the bath?” Nicolette asked.
Sammy looked at her suspiciously. “I gotta hear it from him. You can’t just pretend that you talked to him and then tell me that he said I had to take a bath. I gotta hear it from the cowboy’s mouth.”
Nicolette stared at her son in dismay. She knew she could do one of two