Onward and upward.
Colette took in the golden close-cropped grasses covered in the fine dusting of icing-sugar frosting, the misty white sky, the bright red barn covered in the remains of the last winter snowfall clinging stubbornly to the roof. It was technically spring, but the ranch still looked very…chilly.
She reached in the back seat for her puffer coat and tossed it on. Her vehicle stood out brightly against the wintry surroundings. She smoothed her black mini-skirt. All skirts were longer on her because she was only five foot three, so it was the perfect appropriate office attire length. Using the reflection in the closed car door, she refreshed her red lipstick, wiping the corners to make sure there was no buildup.
Checking the collar of her blouse popping out from under her cardigan, Colette approved of her look. Clean, cute, and professional. Her first impression had to be her best impression, and she wanted this experience to go well. Imagine how it would look on her résumé if she helped solve an accounting mystery and restore the ranch’s reputation.
Realistically, this should be an easy job and a stepping stone to the next position in the city, once she decided to return. And she would return, she thought glumly. There was a dingy apartment and a life that awaited her as soon as her stint in the country was over. Well, maybe she wasn’t so eager to return to the apartment, but her next job would allow her to work toward the goals she had set for herself. This job would allow her to keep busy and not have an icky unemployed gap on her résumé while she found her next permanent gig.
Nothing about this move felt permanent. It was a step in a new direction. A moment in time that would keep her skills sharp for her next job. Her dream job. She would settle for nothing less. She had to be successful at Rosebud Ranch. Areference from Clarence King would go far in the acquisition of her next position. His word was as good as gold in the business world. Maybe he could even ease the path by connecting her with a potential employer. That would be amazing.
Tugging on the bottom of her cardigan, Colette straightened her spine.
This had to go well. She had to blow them away with her amazing skills and get everything organized for their permanent accountant, who would take over the role when the time was right. She wanted to be impressive. They would be begging her to stay. She wouldn’t, but it would go far in making her feel less…disposable.
The eerie silence that surrounded her was already giving her the creeps. It would take some getting used to. Thankfully, she had earbuds and a top-notch eighties soundtrack to help her get through her days once she got started. All she needed was access to the files and a cooperative ranch manager. Not much else.
Surveying her surroundings, Colette could see the beautiful farmhouse where the grandson of Clarence King lived. This was where the family resided when they were visiting the ranch. It was a stunning two-story white home with clapboard siding, a large wraparound porch dotted with wicker chairs, and, of course, a charming two-seater swing.
How quaint.
The black shutters? Adorable.
Alas, it was not where Colette would be staying. The foreman would show her the lodgings after their meeting. She had been directed to meet him at the ranch office as soon as she arrived.
Colette swallowed, tension gathering in a little bundle in her chest. Of course she had to go into the stable. She took a nervous breath and marched over the gravel driveway to the main stable door. The office jutted out of the building but could only be accessed by going through the main entrance. A freshlypainted black-and-white sign pointed her in the right direction. Her hand on the knob, Colette prepared to enter the place that filled her with dread. She hoped there wouldn’t be any huge farm animals in there. They terrified her. Of course there would be, but still. Her heart raced as she envisioned encountering them alone.
Men’s voices drifted toward her, and she paused.
Turning her head toward the sounds coming from around the corner of the stable, Colette waited. Maybe she wouldn’t have to face her fears right this moment after all.
She glimpsed a man somewhere in his fifties, wearing a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat, walking with a younger one in a T-shirt and jeans. The older man must run the place. Her jaw dropped as she took in the younger man, who looked about her age.
His muscles spoke of long days of hard work and the way his T-shirt clung to his sweaty muscles was just… It was a lot. Suddenly, she forgot all about her fear of horses.
Closing her mouth to avoid embarrassment, she headed toward them, head held high.
“That hayloft is hotter than the devil’s balls today. You can tell spring is coming,” the younger man said, swiping off his cowboy hat and running a hand through his wavy, medium brown hair.
Colette swallowed. If this was the representation of the man meat working on this ranch, she was going to have a decent time. The men looked up from their conversation and grinned at Colette.
“You must be Colette,” the older man vigorously shook her hand upon arriving before her.
Unable to resist, she returned his enthusiastic grin. The man walked with such confidence; this must be Clarence’s grandson. His confidence told her he had a hand in running the place.
“Nice to meet you. You must be Marshall,” she said, giving him her best first-impression smile. Sweet, non-threatening, disarming. It worked every time. The man chuckled and looked to his friend walking up to them.
“Actually, this young chap is Marshall King,” he said and nodded in the younger man’s direction. “I’m Jack Ellis. Happy to help you get acclimated to life on the ranch.”
Colette blushed, swallowing the curse that came up in her throat. So much for a good impression. At least the heat of her cheeks would keep her warm on this chilly morning.
Colette inhaled, mortified.
“Oops, my mistake.”
“Hi, Colette,” the real Marshall said in a terse, deep voice that sent chills running up and down her arms. Colette reached for his hand and clasped it, taken in by the soothing warmth in contrast to the icy cold of her hands.
“Feels like you need a warmup. Let’s get you to the cottage, then you can get settled,” Marshall offered. “Spring mornings can be chilly still this time of year.”
