The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess. Gina WilkinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
the back door opened and Natalie stepped out. She carried an insulated, stainless-steel mug and her expression was oddly guarded. Almost as if she were nervous about something.
“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said when he turned to look at her. “Would you like a cup?”
He had just opened a bottle of water, but he could drink that later. “Sure,” he said, pleased that she’d made the gesture. “That sounds good, thanks.”
She handed him the mug, then glanced around the deck, from which he’d already removed the Adirondack chairs and the matching end table that sat between them. He still had to move a wrought-iron umbrella table and the four iron spring chairs surrounding it, and a couple of large planters that sat on wrought iron bases to protect the decking. A wooden swing hung on chains at the far end of the deck. That, too, would need a coat of waterproofing sealant.
“Where are you putting the furniture?”
Carefully swallowing a sip of the hot coffee, he lowered the mug to answer. “At the end of the cabin, on the concrete slab with the grill and the picnic table.”
“Could you use some help moving the rest of it? I’d like to do something useful since Aunt Jewel and Uncle Mack have been so generous letting me stay here.”
He made an effort to hide his surprise. “I won’t turn down an offer to help. But you’re sure there isn’t something you’d rather be doing? It’s such a beautiful day.”
She glanced around as if she’d barely noticed. “I have nothing else to do,” she said.
Just the hint of dejection in her voice made his heart soften. What was it about Natalie Lofton that reminded him a little bit of the stray dog they had just fed? Isolated, wary, maybe mistreated at some point, but still with an undeniable air of quiet dignity?
Suspecting that she wouldn’t appreciate that analogy at all—would more likely hate it, in fact—he kept it to himself. Setting the coffee mug on the wide deck railing, he nodded toward the wrought iron dining set. “We can start moving the chairs.”
She turned in that direction. Casey reached out to detain her. “Do you have a pair of work gloves?” he asked, glancing down at her soft-looking hands. “You don’t want to risk blisters.”
“I have driving gloves. And some knit gloves designed for warmth.”
“Either would be better than nothing.”
“Then I’ll be right back. Is there anything else we need from inside?”
“No.” He took hold of the first chair. “I’ll take this one down.”
He was returning from that short trip when he met up with Natalie again. Her hands protected by leather driving gloves, she lugged one of the chairs, hindered more by its awkward shape than by weight. He almost offered to help her, but something about the way she looked at him warned him that she’d rather do it herself.
He both understood and respected pride. Nodding, he moved past her to get the third chair. They would carry the table together, he decided. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten it down the steps by himself. But because of his own slightly overdeveloped ego, he probably wouldn’t have asked for her help had she not offered.
They worked together for the next two hours, removing the remainder of the furnishings and then cleaning the deck with brooms and a small power washer Casey had brought with him. They didn’t talk much, but the quiet was companionable. The sounds of singing birds and rushing water and dried leaves blowing across the ground provided a sound track for their efforts.
Though he didn’t allow himself to stare openly at her, Casey observed Natalie surreptitiously as she worked. He was pleased to see a tint of color in her cheeks, a new sparkle of accomplishment in her eyes. She liked having a purpose, he decided, something that made her feel useful. And the crisp, fresh air wasn’t hurting either, since she’d been spending entirely too much time holed up in the cabin, from what he had observed.
“That looks good,” he announced a short while later as he and Natalie stood back to admire their work. “Tomorrow morning I’ll apply the sealer. We can replace the furniture in twenty-four to forty-eight hours after that, according to the instructions on the can.”
“There’s a lot of maintenance involved with these cabins, isn’t there? It’s mind-boggling how much hard work is involved in being a vacation landlord.”
“Yeah. Kyle and Mack both put in long days, especially now that their full-time maintenance guy’s on the bench. And your aunt stays busy with the books and reservations.”
Still looking at the empty deck, Natalie murmured, “Tommy used to complain that his family lived in a vacation destination and never had time to actually take a holiday themselves. I didn’t understand when I was a kid, but I certainly do now.”
Casey studied her face, regretting that he saw shadows of sadness in her eyes again. “Kyle’s talked about your cousin. It sounds as if he was a great guy.”
“He was.”
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned, thinking maybe the stray dog had come back for dinner. Instead, he saw a small herd of deer wander out of the woods, grazing on the grass of the lawn. He counted three full-grown does and another that might have been a young buck.
“Natalie,” he said softly, nodding in that direction. “Look.”
She turned her head, then smiled. “They’re beautiful.”
“They are, aren’t they?”
They watched in silence for a moment, and then something—a scent, a motion, a sound, perhaps—startled one of the does. She lifted her head, looked directly at Casey and Natalie, and then turned to melt back into the woods, followed by her companions.
“We’ve certainly seen the animals today, haven’t we?” Natalie said, looking at him again. “Think a black bear will come out of the woods next?”
He grinned. “I kind of hope not. Dogs and deer I can handle. Bears—not so much.”
She chuckled. “The ones around here usually leave you alone if you do the same with them. Tommy and I saw one on a hike once. It looked at us, we looked at it, and then we all turned and went our own ways. Fortunately, Tommy and I had been making a lot of noise, so we didn’t startle the bear when we appeared. That’s when they’re particularly dangerous, when they’re frightened or protecting their young.”
“We didn’t see many bears back in Dallas. Saw a few rattlesnakes on my uncle’s ranch. I didn’t care for them, either.”
Natalie shuddered delicately. “Neither would I. I don’t like snakes.”
“Ah. So there is something that intimidates the intrepid Natalie Lofton.”
“Intrepid?” she repeated, lifting an eyebrow.
Shrugging, he admitted, “It’s a word I tend to associate with you, for some reason. Maybe because you seem so hard to rattle. Broken pipes, blood, stray dogs—bears, apparently. You deal with it all without blinking. I’ve only heard you admit to two things that intimidate you—snakes and babies.”
She blinked and he could tell that he had taken her completely off-guard, something that apparently didn’t happen much with her. And then she gave a little smile that didn’t quite reach her somber eyes and said, “I’ll admit to being wary of both snakes and babies, though maybe not quite to the same extent. As for the rest—I’m not sure intrepid is the word to describe me. Trust me, I don’t handle everything as calmly as you suggest.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
He’d always considered himself fairly proficient in interpreting body language. Something about the way she crossed her arms and then huddled a bit into her sweater made him wonder what it meant. A slightly self-protective gesture, perhaps hinting at a recent blow that had