Page 2 of The Rancher

The urge to reach out and take her hands in mine is overwhelming. What is it about this girl that is making me ache to hold her? It's taking all my strength not to pull her against my chest and shelter her from the world.

"I’ll deal with it." Her chin lifts. "This isn’t your problem."

"The hell it isn't."

Straightening up, I lift her bags, then extend a hand. "I'm up at Bone River Ranch. We’ve got a guest room that’s never been used. There's power, Wi-Fi, food, and excellent coffee." I flash her what I hope is my warmest smile. "Do you happen to like horses?"

2

REMY

Please please please don't let this be the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life.

The huge pickup rumbles up a long private road as I sneak glances at the man who is so intent on taking me in. Stone truly seems like a nice guy, and very polite. I like that he put my bags at my feet instead of in the back of the truck. I also appreciate that he let me climb in without touching me.

I think he gets that I'm skittish. Why wouldn’t I be? He's a stranger, twice my size, and I'm out here all alone.

But Stone is doing everything right, chatting about things that put me at ease.

"The weather up here is as unstable as a newborn colt," he jokes, looking over at me. He truly is striking. Not just because he's so tall and solid – a wall of muscle. He has classically perfect features. Strong jawline, warm, brown eyes, straight nose. And work-worn hands with thick fingers that look capable of doing anything.

It’s like they got a gorgeous movie star to play the handsome man next door, but he’s almost too good-looking for the role.

Wow, I’d better stop staring or he'll think I'm a weirdo.

"It's never about fighting the weather," he continues. "It's about being prepared for it. Planning. Letting mother nature run her course, no matter how fickle she might be."

I normally have to force myself to smile at people, yet it's easy to smile at Stone. "I really do like the great outdoors. I just never have the time to get out there."

“Pfft. City folk.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling. "You don't take a walk through your neighborhood after dinner? Or stroll around while you're shopping?"

A small laugh bubbles out of me. "I don't shop. Just groceries on Sunday mornings."

I may as well tell him. "I have two jobs," I explain. “I work customer service and support at a specialized software company from eight till four – hence my need for Wi-Fi. Then most days I work four to midnight as a freelance bookkeeper's assistant."

The last time I mentioned my work schedule to someone in Oakton, they gazed at me with a mix of shock and admiration, then complimented my hustle and dedication to the grind. Stone, however, looks horrified.

"How… You can't live like that, Remy."

"Well, right now I’m not. My main job demanded that I take my two weeks’ vacation from last year, and it's the slow season for the bookkeeper, so I just put in whatever hours I can get." I smile at him. "Which is as many hours as possible, of course."

He frowns. "We're going to chat about that later. Right now, it's time for you to breathe in some fresh air and wave to the horses."

Fresh air sounds great. The air on the bus coming here was stale. With the windows open as we drive, I feel the country-fresh oxygen is cleaning my lungs and recharging me from the inside out.

We drive through a large gate marked Bone River Ranch. It’s like crossing from the real world to… I don’t even know.

Five horses in various shades of brown come trotting over to the driveway to welcome the truck. Stone slows to a crawl, rolling down his window to call out, "Evening, boys."

They whinny at him, practically nodding hello. He drives slowly along the lane as they walk right alongside the truck. Then he waves goodbye to them and drives past a couple of large buildings to a house at the end of the gravel road.

"This is not how I pictured a ranch," I whisper, looking at his home in awe. It's kind of a mix of cottage and cabin. Plenty of wood that almost blends into the forest behind it. But the windows are huge, with modern, black trim. Everything looks expensive but doesn’t shout about it. When we go inside, it's the same vibe – beautifully understated furniture. Top-of-the-line appliances. A television so large, I could stretch my arms wide and not be able to grasp each edge.

Stone carries my bags upstairs and sets them on the floor of a charming blue and white guest room. "You’ve got your own bathroom in there," he says, nodding to the corner. "This is totally your space." What a polite way to say that he'll respect my privacy.

As I look around at the crisply painted walls, the beautiful furniture and the view of rolling hills and patches of forest through the window, some of the tension in my chest begins to loosen. "This room is bigger than my entire apartment!" I laugh. "And there's so much light here.”

Once again, Stone gives me that horrified look. "Good lord, where do you live?"