“Got it.”
I glance at her briefly.
She looks relaxed now, the frustration she wore earlier when I found her standing outside the hotel long gone. A small smile curves her mouth as she gazes out the window at the open land rolling past.
“Thanks,” I say finally.
Her eyes flick to me. “For what?”
I shrug one shoulder. “For entertaining Josiah. It was good to hear him laugh.”
She leans her elbow on the door, resting her chin on her hand. “He’s charming.”
I snort softly. “No, he’s an ornery old SOB,” I say. “You’re charming.”
“Mmhmm,” she hums. “He just seemed lonely to me.”
Her tone isn’t judgmental. Just observant.
“He doesn’t have to be out there all alone,” I say. “He’s just stubborn.”
“Sounds like someone else I’ve met,” she mutters under her breath.
I huff a laugh at that.
“That’s fair,” I admit. “I have tried to get him to leave that place, you know.”
She looks over at me. “Leave that place?” she repeats.
“Yeah,” I say. “Sell it and move into town with me. Somewhere he can get around easier.”
Her brows knit together. “Sell it?”
The confusion in her voice is obvious.
“But he said he was leaving the ranch to you.”
I can’t help the short laugh that escapes me.
“Yeah, well”—I shake my head—“I don’t have any time to deal with it.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me in disbelief, so I finish the thought.
“What am I going to do with an old, shutdown cattle ranch anyway?”
Silence. Then she slowly shakes her head.
When she speaks, it’s almost under her breath. “You see an old, run-down ranch …” Her gaze drifts out the windshieldtoward the dark, rolling hills. “But all I saw was a family legacy and beautiful potential.”
The words land heavier than she probably intended.
I glance at her.
She doesn’t seem to realize she spoke aloud. She’s still looking out the window like she’s imagining something out there. Something bigger than what currently exists.
I clear my throat lightly.
“So,” I say, nudging the conversation forward, “right or left at this Stop sign up ahead?”
