Heart of a Rancher. Renee AndrewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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