They eventually exited the parking garage and the airport and were driving along a highway that seemed to cut right around Dallas. She stared out her window, eyes wide with wonder, as the city passed by. “I’ve never been to Dallas,” she called over the loud whoosh of truck tires on asphalt.
He shrugged. “Well, you’ll come back through on your way out of here.”
She furrowed her brow. “You mean I won’t be able to come to the city before then?”
He laughed. “Honey, Rock Creek Ranch is a far cry away from any kinda city. We’ll be driving an hour just to get to Canton County. And when we get there, we’ll have to drive another thirty minutes through the range to get to the ranch house. So settle in, cowgirl.”
“Huh,” she breathed. She couldn’t decide what was more unbelievable: the fact that she was going to be living so far away from Dallas, the closest thing to civilization that she recognized, for three months, or the fact that Connor had spoken the words “cowgirl” and “honey” with a straight face.
Cowgirl.
Paige Prescott. Cowgirl.
It had a nice ring to it. She settled in for the long ride, sipping her iced tea while trying to imagine herself in a hat and cowboy boots.
***
About ninety minutes later, Connor had driven them through the remote town of Collinswood and onward toward what looked like absolutely nothing. She peered through the windshield and found that the road dipped up and down with the hills and that these hills were as green as a crayon. But they went nowhere until they eventually met with the horizon. The hot afternoon sun was already diluting itself, turning to a burnt-orange hue. She rubbed her hands against her thighs, warm from being under constant assault from the sun, even inside the truck, and found herself almost certain that she had already begun to tan.
“Well, here we are,” he muttered as he slowed the truck then made an abrupt right turn onto a dirt path.
She relaxed her face; with the noticeably heavier tree covering, she didn’t have to squint to see. Silently she cursed herself for the tenth time for having forgotten her sunglasses. She’d packed everything in her apartment but walked away without sunglasses. They remained on the path for almost five minutes. She braced herself against the clattering sounds of tree branches slapping the cab of the truck and the crunching sounds of the wheels overturning and disrupting the rocks as they tore through the path. Eventually the path widened to twice its width, and they approached a large wrought-iron gate. He drove through the opening, and as he passed, she took note of the words “Rock Creek Ranch” worked into the wrought iron on each side of the gate.
“You keep it open?”
“Yep. During the daylight,” he replied veering right, following the same path up and down the hills.
All around her, she could see nothing but open grasslands. The pastures looked fenced off in portions that were at least ten acres each. Eventually, she spotted three huge buildings sitting on higher ground. As Connor drove up the hill and they got closer and closer, she could make out that the two outside buildings were barns, while the one in the center was a massive ranch house. It towered for three stories with architecture influenced by both Victorian America and that of 19th-century Mexico.
“And here’s the center of it all,” he said as he stepped out of the cab.
She shoved her empty cup back into the cup holder, then jumped out of the passenger seat. Her feet, clad in black converse, hit the gravel unevenly and she teetered a bit to the right. She arched her back and stretched her arms over her head, kicking up her legs in an attempt to wake them up. She then put her hands down and wiggled her backside in the hopes that would break some of the severe cramping she was experiencing in that area. Finally, she appraised the house, taking in the massive front door made of bright wood covered in a shiny finish; the stucco walls, which, in some places, were wearing away to reveal reddish brick; the windows, exceedingly large and framed with forest-green shutters especially on what looked like the third floor; and the lawn, spread out in front of the house and across the roundabout, a deluge of healthy-looking grass, small rose bushes, and other assortments of colorful plants.
“I could get used to this,” she breathed. As the words left her lips, the sound of rapidly approaching horse hooves echoed. She followed the rhythmic thumping sound, cupping her hands against her eyebrows to shield her eyes from the sun and squinting into the distance, where she saw three men riding toward the barn, their silhouettes crowned with cowboy hats, their boots slapping against the sides of the beefy horses.
Connor retrieved her luggage from the bed of the truck, then joined her. The front door opened and a woman wearing a peach-colored blouse and white pants slipped out, her small frame swallowed by the massive structure from which she had emerged. As she got closer, Paige was able to make out the woman’s set of pearls: two bulky earrings hanging off her ears and one long necklace wrapped twice around her neck. She looked out of place in the midst of their wonderfully natural surroundings. Unlike Connor, who radiated calm sincerity, this woman looked like she had been meticulously carved and draped by Ralph Lauren, then placed in this landscape for the purpose of shooting a catalogue. Her brilliant yet aged face brightened at her lips, which were covered in a deep-red lipstick and stretching into a smile. Paige guessed her to be around sixty-five years old.
“Hello, Paige! My name is Jana White and welcome to Rock Creek Ranch.” Jana approached her with an insane amount of energy, her short heels leaving small holes in the gravel driveway.
“Hi. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
Jana laid a sweeping glance around their general area. “What do you think of the estate so far?” she asked, her voice sounding curiously eager, and Paige noted the elitist lilt at the word, “estate.”
Paige could tell she was craving words of absolute praise, but for some reason, that just annoyed her. “It looks immense. But I imagine I haven’t even seen the half of it.”
“Of course not,” Jana hastily replied. “Our land extends for thousands of acres. You’ll spend your whole summer getting acquainted with it.”
Paige tried to disguise her grimace as a smile, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Great. I look forward to it,” she replied. Just the idea of being away from Chicago for so long, of being stuck here for three months working on one story, made her stomach churn.
“Yes, well . . .” Jana turned so that she was facing the house and wrapped her arm around Paige’s shoulder. “Connor, if you could put the truck away and help the other ranch hands close up the barns for the night, I’ll show our guest here around.”
Paige bent over and wrapped her fingers around her backpack, her lips folding into a frown at the thought of how heavy this was going to be, but Jana placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll have Ellie come out and make sure those get to your room.”
“Who’s Ellie?” she asked as Jana led her down the short path, paved with bright-white gravel, and ushered her into the house.
“Just the housekeeper,” Jana replied nonchalantly.
“They have a housekeeper,” Paige muttered to herself as they stepped over the threshold. She blinked her eyes in an attempt to adjust to the much dimmer light of the foyer. Once inside, her jaw dropped in wonder and her lips hung slightly ajar. Directly in front of her was a grand staircase with wooden steps, the dark finish accented with a maroon runner. The two straight flights converged in the center, where they melted into a landing large enough to fit a bedroom. Through the wrought-iron rails of the landing, she could see a set of two wooden chairs with matching quilted cushions on them and a small coffee table in its center. Narrow hallways extended on either side of the landing which marked the second floor. Slightly to the right of this setting rose another flight of stairs with matching wood finish and an identical maroon runner. On the back wall hung the massive head of a bull, its horns extending upward and onward, dark and imposing and casting shadows on the w
alnut-colored walls behind it.
Directly to her right was an archway that opened to a room with walls lined with bookcases, completely filled with books. Paige instinctively stepped in that direction.
Jana laughed. “I see you have are interested in our library.”
Paige nodded slowly as she stepped through the arch. The smell of leather bindings and old books filled the air. When she turned, she was surprised to find that Jana had not followed her into the room.
“Not today, honey. We don’t really have time to make all the stops. I’ll just have to give you an abbreviated version of the tour,” she explained as she wrapped her fingers around Paige’s arm and ushered her under the imposing landing.
“Do you frequently give tours?” Paige asked.
“Excuse me?” Jana replied as they emerged on the other side of the landing.
“You said, ‘an abbreviated version,’ implying that there’s a long version, which leads me to believe that you probably do this a lot.”
Jana shot her an impish grin. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” she joked. “Yes. You’ll find that even though the ranch is still functional today, it is a historical relic for the town.”
“How long has it been around?”
“It’s been in the Randall family—my family—for almost two hundred years.”
“Wow,” Paige muttered. Two hundred years was a long time. She was still digesting this information when she laid a sweeping gaze across the side of the landing. Because of the way the sun was setting, this part of the house was much better lit. Its weakening light flooded through the windows, casting a golden glow on the living area and breakfast table. To her right was an expansive kitchen. The fridge’s doors, which had been plated with a dark wood so that it might blend in with the rest of the cabinets, hung open, and from this angle, Paige could only see back pockets stretched over a butt that just peaked over the edge of the counter top.
“Ellie,” Jana called.
The young woman shot up, flipping her mane of red curls, then turned and flashed Jana a smile, one which faded when she shifted her gaze to Paige.
Sensing her discomfort, Paige stepped toward her and greeted her, “Hi! My name is Paige.”
Ellie’s eyes widened with recognition. “Oh right! You’re that writer chick?” She extended her hand over the counter.
“Uh, yeah. I am. I guess you could say that.” It felt nice to be referred to as the writer. It felt like a kind of distinction coming out of the girl’s mouth.
“Uh, Ellie, here,” Jana butted in, “made that iced tea I sent with Connor.”
Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re responsible for that heaven in a cup?”
Ellie giggled. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Ellie is my most valuable asset,” Jana chimed in.
Paige shifted her gaze to Jana, catching the insidious smile on her face. She glanced at Ellie and was met with an identical look of equal parts confusion and equal parts horror.
Sensing the tension, Jana widened her smile, then threw her thin arms around Ellie. “I only mean that in the most affectionate way!”
Ellie winced as Jana plastered a kiss on her cheek, then weaseled out of her grip as quickly as she could.
“Now,” Jana continued, straightening out her shirt and dabbing her fingers around her lips to ensure that her lipstick had not smudged. “Let’s continue with the tour, shall we?”
Paige nodded and followed her out of the room.
Chapter Four
A sharp knock at the door yanked Paige out of her deep slumber. Her eyes flipped open, and for a short moment she was confused. She had forgotten that she had been sent to the middle of nowhere for three months because she had royally screwed her paper. She had forgotten the seven hours of total travel time; the “short” two-hour tour and . . . she swept her eyes across the guest room she had been given. She was lying in the middle of a four-poster bed, covered in 700-count, kelly-green cotton sheets and a quilt of deep colors. Directly across from her was a long oak dresser with a mirror hanging over it, framed in matching wood. She remembered being shown her room for the first time and being overwhelmed with relief at the fact that none of those creepy dried animal heads were hanging on the walls.
Another knock shook her out of her thoughts. “C-come in!” she barked instinctively.
There was a click as the knob turned, and Ellie came bounding in. Her sharp boots slapped along the hardwood floor, the sound disappearing as soon as she got to the rug at the foot of Paige’s bed. Her red hair hung in unkempt curls around her face, which, other than a thick layer of brown lipstick, was clean and devoid of makeup.
Paige gulped, then threw off her quilt, jumping out of bed. She hastily pulled her golden hair, now frizzy after a night of sleeping on it wet, up into a ponytail and tugged at the hem of her oversized night shirt, just to make sure she wasn’t exposing any parts of herself. “W-what is it? What’s going on?”
“Did Aunt Jana not tell you?” Ellie demanded in a shrill voice.
“Tell me what?”
“That you were supposed to meet Everett this morning . . . like twenty minutes ago!” she exclaimed.
Paige shook her head, hoping to clear the cobwebs in her still-sleeping brain. She yanked open a drawer and pulled out the first blouse and pair of shorts she laid hands on, but before she could shove the shorts on under her night shirt, Ellie crossed the room and snatched them out of her hands. “Are you kidding me?” she demanded.
“What the hell?” Paige glowered at her.
“You can’t wear shorts!”
Paige rolled her eyes and scurried across the room. “It’s a million degrees out there. It’s the only thing I can wear,” she argued as she turned on the faucet and wet her toothbrush.
“Ha!” Ellie yelled as she pulled open drawers and sifted through them. “You’re going be on a horse all day.”
Paige rushed back into her room, ripping her toothbrush out of her mouth. “But I don’t know how to ride a horse!” Her stomach churned at the idea of climbing on one of those massive animals. She’d heard stories about people breaking their backs. She’d seen movies. She couldn’t even remember ever touching one before.
Ellie shrugged, throwing the one pair of jeans Paige had packed onto her bed. “Well, today, you’re going learn.”
Paige bit her lip. “And who is Everett?” she asked, wiggling into her jeans. Ellie looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Everett James. He’s the one who’s really in charge. He keeps everything going.” She raised her voice again. “All right, I got stuff to do, so if you’re good on gettin’ dressed by yourself, I’m going to move on with my day.” Ellie stole out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
***
“Hey there, Penelope. I’ve got a treat for you,” Everett muttered at the gray horse he was grooming.
“Stop talking to yourself, Everett,” the young blond cowboy quipped from two stalls over, where he groomed his own horse.
Everett rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking to myself, Ethan,” he snapped, shooting him a glare. “I’m talking to the horse,” he muttered as he turned back around.
Ethan chuckled. “Yeah, like that’s any better.” He went back to cooing at his own horse, Scout. Everett grinned. Ethan was one to talk. He could often be heard singing to the horses. Everett had been impressed with Ethan’s connection to the animals since he became a ranch hand at Rock Creek Ranch nearly ten years ago. He had often told him that he should be a veterinarian, but Ethan had often claimed that he couldn’t stand the sight of needles.
Everett turned his attention back to Penelope. She wasn’t his favorite, but she was good enough for anyone. Her dusty gray color made her stick out amongst the other horses, like a ghost or some other supernatural being. He figured she was the intellectual one of the herd and would thus be the least likely to randomly throw Paige off. Well, at least he hoped. “No.” He shook his head. “On second thought, Penelope, I hope you th
row this writer woman off of your back the second she gets up there. That’ll be just the thing to scare her off. She’ll leave, you won’t have to deal with the city slicker, I’ll get my summer back, and we’ll all get to see the look on Aunt Jana’s face when she is denied her coveted feature.”
The barn doors swung open, revealing a very annoyed-looking Ellie who stood with hands on her hips, her head covered in what looked like a red glow. “You are a rare kind of mean, Everett James,” she scolded as she entered the barn, her dark-brown boots kicking up dust.
“Don’t act like I’m the only one that wants her gone,” he retorted.
“You’re the only one that cares,” she replied as she walked to stand before him.
Ethan laughed. “I swear, you are always fighting with features and brandings and everything else for Aunt Jana’s affection.”
“I could care less about Aunt Jana’s affection,” Everett snapped.
“That’s because you already got it,” Ethan argued. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like to live in that house.”
Anger welled up at the top of Everett’s chest at the mention of his situation. He always hated it when people brought up the fact that he lived in the house. It was a cheap shot that had nothing to do with anything. “It ain’t on account of Aunt Jana that I live in that house,” he barked back.
Ethan’s lips stretched into an impish grin. “You think Arlo is in charge?”
“Stop!” Ellie hollered, stepping in between the two of them. The two men turned back to their work.
Everett huffed and looked down at his watch, which told him that Paige was now almost forty-five minutes late. “How much beauty sleep does the princess need?”
“Hold your horses, Everett. I made sure she got up. She’s comin’,” Ellie yelled, turning away and heading back to the door.
“I am holding my horses. I’m holding all the horses. I’m holding my entire day for this woman, but she is still nowhere to be found.”
“Stop complaining, Everett,” Ethan snapped.
Dare To Love A Cowboy (Canton County Cowboys 2) Page 4