Heart of a Rancher

by Renee Andrews

  “You will,” Georgiana assured, obviously thinking of Landon.

  Eden placed her hand on top of her daughter’s on the counter. “I’m so glad you and Landon found each other, dear.”

  “Well, God will give me my right one eventually,” Maribeth continued, “but even so, I’ve always said the same thing about John Cutter.”

  “What’s that?” Eden asked.

  “That a guy who looks that good—and acts that good—shouldn’t be wasted on tending to livestock. He deserves to love and be loved well.”

  Eden nodded.

  Georgiana smirked. “Well said, Maribeth.”

  Dana didn’t voice her response, but inside, her heart whispered, “Let it be me.”

  Chapter Seven

  John rarely overslept, but he hadn’t wanted his dream to end. In the dream, he hadn’t merely thought about kissing Dana behind the waterfall; he had. Yesterday, in reality, after catching her to keep her from falling, he’d stepped away and attempted to joke about her stumbling. Then he’d led her back to the horses and claimed he needed to get back to the cabin to sleep.

  He’d need to get a grip on this attraction if they were going to maintain a business relationship—the only type of relationship they could have if she was leaving in four weeks.

  Red waited beside the cabin as though knowing it was Sunday and John would need a ride to his truck. Within minutes, they began crossing the field toward the house. He assumed the rest of the family—and presumably Dana—had already headed to church, and he hated that he missed the chance to escort her, introduce her to Brother Henry and everyone else during her first visit. It was hard enough last night knowing she went to the town square for the first time without him. He’d wanted to see her face when she saw the three-tiered fountain at the center of the square, the huge oak trees on both sides of the fountain, the brick storefronts topped with decorative eaves.

  He suspected there weren’t that many things the city girl hadn’t seen and experienced in her life, but Claremont seemed to hold an abundance. John wanted to be the one to show it all to Dana. But more than anything else, he’d wanted to take her to church. The people at Claremont Community Church were like his second family, especially after the way they embraced him when his mother died. He’d felt so alone with Landon overseas and Casey merely a kid, a kid who had suddenly become John’s responsibility. The church folks had been there when John needed help back then, and nowadays he looked forward to seeing them each week. Today he was even more anxious to see them, because he’d planned to introduce them to Dana.

  But, because he was a good ten minutes late, she would’ve already caught a ride with Georgiana, Landon and Abi. He crested the final hill that led to the house, looked toward the log cabin and immediately caught a glimpse of pale blue on the porch. Then the sunlight caught white-blond hair and, unless he was seeing things, highlighted her smile as she saw him approach.

  She lifted a hand and moved her fingers in a feminine wave that did strange things to his pulse. John nodded in return and guided Red to the barn, dismounted and walked toward the house, as though he wasn’t thrilled she had stayed behind, presumably waiting for him to accompany her to church.

  She started down the porch steps, the soft fabric of the skirt shifting gently as she moved, and her pretty legs embellished by an adorable pair of cowboy boots. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” she said.

  John swallowed. Have mercy, she was cute. And beautiful. And so way out of his league. “What’s that?”

  “A guy riding up on a horse to go to church.”

  He grinned, a little more at ease with the stunning woman walking toward him now. “Maybe you don’t see it every day in Chicago. Folks around here see it every Sunday.”

  She glanced down at her dress. “But you do take the truck to the church, right? I don’t think I’m dressed quite right for horseback riding.”

  He personally thought she’d look absolutely perfect riding sidesaddle in the blue dress, but he kept that thought to himself. “Yeah, Red’s good to get to the main house, but we’d never make it to church on time riding him the whole way. And we’re late as it is.” He nodded toward the truck. “You want a ride?”

  “I suppose I do—” she laughed “—because if you don’t take me, I’ll be hard-pressed to get there since they didn’t bring my new rental yet.”

  With everything that had happened yesterday, he’d forgotten about her vehicle. “I’ll call the rental place today and see what happened.”

  “I already did. They weren’t able to get another one until at least Monday. I told them I’d be okay, since all of you have been so gracious to let me use your vehicles or drive me if I need to go anywhere.” One corner of her mouth lifted. “That’s assuming you’re still willing to give me a ride to church.”

  He chuckled. “Of course. And I can’t imagine a reason you’ll need that SUV, anyway. Most of the time, we’ll stay at the farm. And if you need to go anywhere we can take you or, as you said, you can use one of our vehicles. Why don’t you cancel the rental?” If she didn’t have her own car, she’d have to rely on him a bit more. And he liked that, almost as much as he liked the thought of her riding around next to him in the old blue truck. “So, what do you say? Cancel the rental?”

  “Sure.”

  He opened the passenger door. “I’ll call and cancel it for you.” He glanced at her feet. “Nice boots.”

  “Abi picked everything out at the store last night. They weren’t originally paired with the dress, but Maribeth thought they added Southern charm.”

  “Maribeth likes clothes. She was always dressing up in high school, not like Sunday dressing up, but different than every other girl there, that’s for sure.”

  “She’s talented. I’ve never seen anything like her store before.” Dana moved near him as she climbed in, and he caught a whiff of something sweet. He must’ve audibly inhaled, because she laughed. “You like that smell?”

  Caught. “Yeah, I do.”

  “It’s one of Georgiana’s body lotions. I brought some lotions and perfumes with me from home, but Abi wanted me to try this one today.”

  He laughed. “That’s why it seemed familiar. I took Abi Christmas shopping last year, and she wanted my opinion on a gift for her mom. She knew Georgiana loved body lotion, but she couldn’t decide on a scent.”

  “So you picked one for her?” The look on Dana’s face said she couldn’t see John selecting a lotion. He certainly would never have volunteered for the job if Abi hadn’t asked him to go.

  “Picking it out was easy. Going into that girly Scents and Sensibility store on the square with half of Claremont there Christmas shopping, now that was hard.” He started the truck, while Dana giggled from the passenger’s seat.

  “Why didn’t she get Landon to take her?”

  “She said she didn’t want him knowing what she was getting her mom.”

  “And why not Eden?”

  “I suggested that, but Abi wanted me to take her for some reason.” He caught Dana’s knowing look. “Yeah, I was set up. She knew I’d cave when she asked to also go to the Treasure Box, the Sweet Stop and Nelson’s.”

  “And you bought her something at every store, I take it?” Another small laugh followed the question.

  “I can’t tell her no.” He shrugged. “It’s a weakness.”

  “You’d better watch yourself when she turns sixteen and asks to go car shopping.”

  He grinned, thinking about his adorable niece. “At least I’ve got a few years to build up my resistance.”

  “Personally, I don’t know how anyone would turn down a trip to Nelson’s. I’ve had a lot of milk shakes, but nothing like that double-chocolate one I had last night.”

  “Ah, so she got y’all to take her to Nelson’s? I guess
I’m not the only one who can’t say no to Abi. Did she hit you up for the Tiny Tots Treasure Box, too?”

  Dana laughed. “Yes, but she didn’t ask for anything in the toy store. We just went in and looked around because she said I needed to see how cool it was, and we skipped the candy shop since we knew we were going to have milk shakes.”

  He could almost see the group of females shopping in the square with Abi leading the pack and Dana taking it all in the same way she’d absorbed everything on the mountain yesterday. “So you enjoyed shopping in Claremont’s tiny metropolis?”

  “Every minute of it. The square is amazing, like something lifted out of the past, the geese squawking, the people shopping and visiting with each other as they meet. Everyone says hello or waves as though they know you—that’s not like anything I’m used to. And then the kids everywhere, splashing and playing around the fountain, enjoying the gorgeous late afternoon and evening. I didn’t want to leave.”

  He knew exactly what she meant, and he wished he’d have been there to see her experience it all, but he saw her excitement now, her appreciation for his town, and it touched his heart. He couldn’t help that he missed her first visit to the square. He’d had to work, and that was that. At least he’d get to show her the church this morning.

  They continued down the dirt driveway and, even though the morning wasn’t overly warm, the truck heated up quickly. Dana cranked her window down. The breeze blew her silky hair all over, and she gathered it the same way she had when they rode the Gator.

  John cranked his window down, too. “Sorry, I ought to get the air fixed in this thing.”

  She squinted through the few strands of hair that escaped the makeshift ponytail and moved across her face with the gentle wind. “It isn’t too warm. I just want to enjoy the breeze and the scents of the farm.”

  He laughed. “Some scents are a little strong at times. Might want to roll the window back up if you get a whiff of one of those, but we haven’t fertilized recently, so you should be okay.”

  She held her wrist to her nose. “Speaking of scents, I can’t remember what the lotion was called. I thought Abi told me...”

  “Don’t worry, I remember. It’s called My Favorite Oatmeal Topping.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. The store tries to give them all memorable Southern-sounding names. Needless to say, that one stuck with me. And they named it that because it smells like brown sugar, which is most folks’ favorite oatmeal topping, at least around here.”

  “So, is that your favorite topping?”

  “That, and raisins. And pecans. Sometimes apples. Every now and then grapes.”

  She smothered a laugh. “Can you even taste the oatmeal?”

  “Barely, but it’s good. You’ll have to try it.”

  “Maybe I will.” She sniffed her wrist again. “You’re right, it does smell like brown sugar. I knew it was familiar but couldn’t put my finger on it.” They stopped at the end of the driveway, and she held her hand toward John. “So this is what you picked out?”

  He already knew it was, but he took her hand in his, lifted her wrist and smelled the scent that he’d selected for Abi, as well as another underlying fragrance, feminine and sweet, purely Dana. “Yes, it is.” He held her wrist a little longer, and looked up into blue eyes watching his every move. “It’s a nice scent.”

  Her slender throat pulsed as she swallowed. “Yes, it is.”

  Releasing her hand was more difficult than it should have been, but John let go, and started toward the church.

  They traveled at least a mile in a semi-awkward silence while he thought about the softness of her skin against his fingers.

  Then Dana cleared her throat and asked, “Do you know what I realized last night?”

  “No, what?”

  “You said you would tell me about dude ranches yesterday, remember? You said that it was part of the nickel tour. But you never said anything about them.” She ran her fingertips across the white flowers embroidered over the blue skirt. “I may have to ask for my nickel back.”

  “Last time I checked, you never gave me that nickel.”

  “Oh, right. I owe you.” She shifted in the seat to face him. “Will you tell the dude ranch story, anyway, Cowboy John?”

  He liked the endearing nickname, thought he could get used to hearing her say it, too, truth be told. “Sure, Cowgirl Dana.”

  Her smile stretched to her cheeks. “Cowgirl Dana. Can’t wait to share that with Ryan.”

  John had already determined from the few comments Dana had made about her brother that Ryan Brooks didn’t want her here, didn’t want Brooks International to invest in an Alabama rancher. Feeling as strongly as he did about family, John didn’t like causing a rift between the siblings and hoped it was a friendly disagreement and nothing more. He also hoped that the dude ranch would be as successful as he planned, and Ryan would end up apologizing to his sister.

  “So, tell me about dude ranches,” she said. “And I promise I’ll pay you that nickel.”

  He winked. “Okay, so here’s the John Cutter short version on the history of dude ranches.”

  She straightened in the seat. “Go ahead, I’m all ears.”

  John cleared his throat and put on his best tour guide accent. “In the late 1800s, many East Coasters and Europeans were drawn to the simple lifestyle pioneers discovered out West.” He noticed her head tilted, her eyes studying him with interest, and he realized he enjoyed sharing a bit of his knowledge with the savvy businesswoman. “The introduction of the transcontinental rail system provided easy travel from the East Coast to the Western frontier, and visitors began to come in droves. But in spite of the great expanse of the West, the travelers at the time outnumbered available accommodations.”

  She turned more toward John, rested her arm on the back of the seat and propped her chin on top of her hand as she listened.

  “Consequently, cattle and horse ranchers were inundated with requests by friends and relatives to put them up, often for months. At first it was merely an exchange of hospitality, but soon the guests began offering money to their hosts, and that began the dude ranch. Dude happened to be a turn-of-the-century expression for strangers in a new land, and the term has stood the test of time.”

  She nodded. “I had never thought about where the term came from—that’s so interesting. And your guests are going to love hearing the history.”

  He turned the truck into the church parking lot, pulled it under the shade of a Bradford pear tree, the white blossoms covering each branch like tufts of snow. “We’re here.”

  She shifted her attention from John to the white-steepled church, towering magnolias and oak trees on each side, colorful flower beds filled with red tulips bordering the entrance and the remaining mature Bradford pears blooming stark white along the edge. “This could be a painting.”

  He grinned. “There’s a local artist, Gina Brown, who is one of the church members here and owns the Gina Brown Art Gallery on the square. Her paintings of our church are some of her bestsellers.”

  “I can see why. And I remember seeing her gallery at the square last night. I’ll have to make a point to go inside the next time we go into town.”

  John liked hearing that we in her statement and looked forward to accompanying her to the square the next time she went. He climbed out of the truck, rounded the front and then opened her door. Her smile beamed back at him.

  “I’m enjoying this day so much,” she said.

  “We’ve only ridden to church.” But he knew what she meant, the closeness they shared, even when merely riding in a truck and chatting, was undeniable.

  “I know, but this isn’t the usual way I spend my Sundays, and I’m very happy about that.” Before John could ask how she usually spent her Sundays, she contin
ued. “The dude ranch story is fascinating. I can picture those people traveling across the country and needing a place to stay, especially after our trail ride yesterday. I think about them crossing mountains and fields like that, and I imagine that finding someone willing to house them along their journey was a real lifesaver.”

  “So you think that’ll work for the nickel tour?”

  “Oh, it’s worth more than a nickel,” she said. “I loved it, but more than that, I loved watching you tell it, as though you would’ve wanted to personally put those travelers up along their journey. I’m sure your guests will enjoy learning about it, too. You’re going to do such a great job.”

  Her confidence touched his very soul. For years he’d dreamed of doing something that would allow him to achieve some measure of success. Now, with Dana’s help, he saw the dream as a potential reality. “Thanks.” He looked toward the church. “Look, the doors are still open. We’re not technically late until the greeters shut the doors.” At that moment, Anna Bowman, an older woman who’d been friends with John’s mother, stepped out and pulled one door closed.

  “Looks like we’d better hurry, then.” Dana stepped aside and grinned as he shut her door and took her hand.

  “Looks like. Come on, let’s go.”

  They sprinted across the parking lot, laughing as they made their way up the church steps and Anna stepped out to shut the other door. The sweet, silver-haired lady smiled. “John, did you work last night?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But you never miss a Sunday service, do you?”

  “The week wouldn’t start right if I did.” He nodded to Dana. “This is Dana Brooks. She’s visiting us from Chicago.”

  “Well, it’s wonderful to meet you, Dana. We’re so glad you’re visiting and glad you came to church this morning with John.” She gave John and Dana the look that came over most older women around town whenever they saw John with a woman, the one that said they wondered—maybe even hoped—that there might be something to the pair.

  Dana, her hand on her chest as she caught her breath from their sprint across the parking lot, didn’t seem to notice. “Nice to meet you,” she said.