“Welcome to the Running Wind,” he said.
The gates swung inward, revealing beautifully trimmed trees and sculpted flowering bushes.
With each moment, her heart added an extra beat.
She followed the road as it snaked along, passing three cottages before she rounded a final curve and the ranch house came into view.
Unable to help herself, she paused to take it all in.
It was as if she’d stepped back into another time.
The home’s lawn spanned at least an eighth of an acre and featured a small pond.The area was shaded by several gorgeous live oak trees.
The house itself was stunning.And she realized it really couldn’t be called a house.It was more of a mansion and shaped like a horseshoe, and it had a turret.The structure was whitewashed stucco that had faded to a soft, inviting cream tone.Bright-red Spanish tiles covered the roof, and two sets of stairs were also red, adding vibrant splashes of color.The building was all the more imposing because it was set quite a bit back from the circular driveway.
A sudden movement caught her eye.She glanced over to see Cade standing on the walkway.
Today he wore tight, tight jeans, a brown Western shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a belt with an oversized buckle and a summer-weight straw cowboy hat.The sight of Cade Donovan made it impossible to string two thoughts together.
She’d expected to see other people, but since she’d left the main road, she hadn’t glimpsed another car.Despite what she’d told Zoe, it seemed they were alone.
Swallowing deeply, she drove on.After she’d parked, he came around to the driver’s side and opened the vehicle door.
“Ms.McBride,” he greeted.He tipped his hat and she had to remind herself to breathe so that she didn’t swoon.“You made it safely.”
“You give excellent directions.”
“Things go better when people do as I suggest,” he agreed.
Again she questioned whether or not he was a Dominant.His tone, his easy confidence that bordered on arrogance, made her wonder.She looked away to shut off the vehicle.Then, keeping the conversation light, she admitted, “I was gawking.”She quickly clarified, “At the house.”
“At the house,” he repeated.A long, slow smile sauntered across his lips.“I do the same thing every time I come home.”
Being casual was incredibly difficult when he stood this close, branded with the clean scent of the outdoors and the spice of a hot Southern night.“You never get used to it?”
“No.And honestly, I hope I don’t,” he said.
Finally, he took a step back to give her some much-appreciated room.
She reached into the passenger seat for her phone, tablet and clipboard before exiting the vehicle to stand next to him.
“It’s an honor, and a big responsibility to live here.All the expectations and ambitions of my forefathers are here for the world to see.”He looked off into the distance.“I can’t be the Donovan to fail, to lose Maisie’s Manor.”
“Maisie’s Manor?”she repeated.
“My great-great-grandmother was named Margaret, but my great-great-grandfather called her Maisie.According to what I read in a newspaper article, their original house burned down, somewhere around 1909.So when he rebuilt, he wanted to be sure it would survive anything.They moved in on their fifth wedding anniversary.”
She looked up at the house, ideas forming, helping her to focus on business and keep naughty thoughts of him in the background where they belonged, until she could banish them entirely.Excitement gathered inside her.“Is there a written history of the land and the ranch somewhere?”
He shook his head.“The only thing I found was that newspaper clipping.I think it was from the 1950s, just a local feature on homes in the area.”
“We could have something put together for the event,” she said.“Maybe as part of the program.”
“Program?”
“Since it’s a centennial celebration, I figured you’d want to at least say a few words.You know, you’ll want to welcome people, let them know how glad you are that they came, maybe acknowledge relationships that have helped ensure the success of the ranch.Perhaps your grandfather could talk?Or your grandmother?Long-time employees?Vendors?Community leaders, like the mayor, talking about the importance of the Running Wind.Maybe a video presentation, if you have pictures of the ranch as it was a hundred years ago?And we can find a photographer to recreate them from the same angle today.Of course, we’ll want press coverage.You know, we may want to consult with a PR firm about the whole thing.And of course, we’ll need an audio-visual budget.”
“Whoa.This started as some hot dogs and burgers on the grill.”
