Roping In The Cowgirl. Judy DuarteЧитать онлайн книгу.
out.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“That depends. Who are you?”
Shannon, who’d had her fill of frustration for the day, bristled at his rude response and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you go first?”
His lips curled ever so slightly into a smile, and his expression mellowed a bit, as if he might actually respect her spunk. “I’m Blake Darnell, Sam’s nephew.”
The California attorney? Shannon had heard about him. He rarely visited Sam and had left the poor man to nearly waste away in the nursing facility in town.
Darnell arched a dark brow. “And you’re...?”
She let the question dangle a moment before introducing herself. “I’m Shannon Cramer.”
His gaze swept over her, traveling from head to toe and back again. He seemed to be assessing her and the pink scrubs she wore.
“A nurse’s aide?” he asked.
“An RN,” she corrected.
Darnell nodded, then walked to the back of the Lexus, opened the trunk and pulled out a suitcase.
What in the world was he doing with that? Surely he didn’t plan to stay here. Maybe he came to bring some of Sam’s belongings to him.
Before Shannon could question him, Aunt Joy stepped out onto the porch and met Shannon the way she usually did—with a cup of coffee. “Here you go. Fixed just the way you like it—with a splash of cream and a dash of sugar.”
“Thanks.” Shannon took the mug in both hands, letting the heat warm her fingers from the crisp autumn chill.
“There’s pumpkin bread to go with that,” Joy said, her voice light, her smile refreshing.
It was nice to see her aunt happy again. Her second husband had left her in dire financial straits after wiping out the nest egg she’d once had. When most people were thinking of retiring, Joy had had to find a job. But since she’d been out of the workforce for more than forty years, she had no way of supporting herself. Fortunately, the Rocking C had needed a housekeeper/cook, and Shannon had told the owners that Joy was the perfect candidate.
And that was true, since Joy’s most notable qualifications were her culinary skills and an innate ability to make a house a home. So it had worked out beautifully for everyone involved.
Then Joy met Sam Darnell, who soon put a sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her steps. There was a happy glimmer in Sam’s eyes, too. It was heartwarming to see.
“I’m glad you’re finally here,” Joy told Shannon. “Darlene’s eager to go home.”
“I know.” Shannon took a sip of coffee. “It couldn’t be helped. There was a little incident on the road near the bridge.”
Joy turned to Darnell and offered him a warm smile, which he didn’t return. Instead, he seemed to assess her, but in a far more critical manner than he’d studied Shannon just moments earlier.
Why was that? Joy was one of the sweetest women on the planet, which was one reason her jerk of an ex had been able to take advantage of her.
But then again, Shannon knew that Sam’s nephew had called him yesterday, and the foreman had refused to talk to him.
The California attorney cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose either of you can tell me where I can find Sam.”
“He went out to check a leaky pump in the south pasture,” Joy said, her voice soft and kind. “But he should be back shortly.”
At nearly eighty years old, Sam Darnell could well afford to retire and take life easy, but he thrived on being useful. And he certainly was. The Rocking C had been a struggling cattle ranch when Chloe Martinez had inherited it. There were back taxes and a second mortgage to pay. But Sam, with his wealth of knowledge and experience, had begun to turn things around in a few short months. They certainly weren’t out of the woods yet, but the sweet old foreman had told them not to worry, that everything would be okay in time.
For that reason, Sam reminded Shannon of her father, a good and loving man she’d lost way too soon.
“If you don’t mind,” Darnell said, as he strode toward the front porch toting his fancy suitcase, “I’ll sit here and wait for him.”
Actually, Shannon did mind. A lot. But she bit her tongue out of courtesy to Sam. She adored the former rancher, who’d become a friend. And if he married her aunt, he’d become a part of the family.
In fact, if Sam and Joy actually did decide to tie the knot, Shannon might have to “accidentally” misplace Blake’s invitation.
Because while she couldn’t think of anything she’d like more than to help Joy plan the perfect wedding. Sam’s nephew was a stuffy, conceited tool, and she wasn’t looking forward to adding him as a relative!
The two women continued to stand in the yard, gaping at Blake as though he’d just dropkicked a puppy. But then again, who knew what his uncle might have told them about him?
At first, when the older woman wearing a yellow apron walked out of the house carrying a mug of steaming coffee, he’d thought she might be the one who’d been sweet-talking Sam. She wore glasses and wasn’t that close to him, so he couldn’t see her eye color. But she was a brunette, which he suspected was due to a recent visit to a local beauty salon. She was also in her mid-to late-sixties, so she was definitely what Sam would call “younger.” Still, while she was pleasant enough to look at, Blake wouldn’t consider her “sexy.”
On the other hand, the nurse had big green eyes the color of new spring grass. Her glossy dark hair was a tumble of curls that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Even while wearing an unflattering pair of pink hospital scrubs she could stoke a dying ember in a man’s soul.
But surely she wasn’t the one his uncle had been talking about. Besides, it was also a sure bet that she couldn’t have a niece old enough to attend medical school. Still, she was a young brunette and definitely sexy...
Blake shook off that arousing but unwelcome thought as quickly as it struck.
Besides, she’d slapped her hands on her hips and was drilling into him with a critical gaze. It was clear to him that she wasn’t sharing the love.
Maybe he’d better take a new tack, sidestepping her and starting at the top. So he asked, “Who’s in charge here?”
Shannon stood as tall as her petite stature would allow and lifted her chin. “That would be me. I’m the head nurse.”
Seriously? She might look ready for battle, but she was just a bit of a thing—not much taller than five feet. She was also in her early-to midtwenties, and the way he saw it, she was too young to be running a retirement home, even if his uncle was in charge of the ranch.
In spite of her obvious annoyance, she had pretty features—a heart-shaped face, expressive eyes, thick dark lashes and a scatter of freckles across her nose.
She wasn’t wearing any makeup to highlight her physical attributes, but she really didn’t need to. Her beauty was natural and wholesome.
If he had to guess, he’d suspect that she had a nice shape, although those baggy pants and that boxy top hid it well.
Of course, none of that mattered. Blake wasn’t about to be sidetracked from the task he’d set out to do. And since he wanted to get to the bottom of the mess his uncle had gotten caught up in, he couldn’t afford to aggravate anyone who might be able to help him, particularly the two ladies standing before him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” the older woman said to Shannon, “I’ll let Darlene know you’re here and that she’s free to leave.”