Pursued by the Rich Rancher. Catherine Mann

Pursued by the Rich Rancher - Catherine Mann


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you.” Her green eyes shadowed with pain mixed with determination. “Early intervention is so crucial. I had to be his advocate, even if the rest of the family wasn’t ready to accept the truth.”

      He found himself asking, “And Cody’s father?”

      “My ex-husband sent child support payments.” She set aside the foam container as if she’d lost her appetite. “But he didn’t want to have anything to do with Cody.”

      “Sent?”

      “He died in a motorcycle crash shortly after our divorce.” Silence settled like a humid dark blanket of a summer night.

      “I’m sorry.” Such inadequate words for the mix of losses she’d suffered, not just through the death of her ex, but in how the man had let her down.

      “I like to think with time he could have accepted his son and been a part of Cody’s life.” Her head fell back against the rocker, her red hair shifting and shimmering in the porch light. “Now we’ll never have that chance.”

      Time, a word that was his enemy these days, with his grandmother’s cancer. “Regrets are tough to live with.”

      And he would always regret it if he didn’t help ease his grandmother’s last days.

      Nina shook her head quickly as if clearing her thoughts and picked up her dessert again. “Enough about me. I don’t mean to sound like my life is some maudlin pity party. I have a beautiful son who I love very much. I have a great, flexible job and no financial worries. Moving on.” She scooped up some berries. “Tell me about you? How did you end up working at the Hidden Gem Ranch?”

      “My family has always lived here.” He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, especially after spending so much of his childhood and teenage years being dragged around the country by his parents to participate in rodeos. “I guess you could say I appreciate the quiet.”

      “So you’re a professional cowboy? Rodeos and all?”

      He’d lived a whole career by eighteen thanks to his mother’s obsession with trotting her kids out into competitive circles—him with rodeos and his twin sister, Amie, with pageants. “My rodeo days are long past.”

      “Because?”

      He shrugged. “Too many broken bones.”

      She gasped. “How awful. Are you okay?”

      “Of course. It’s all in the past. Kid stuff.” As a boy, he hadn’t argued with his parents’ insistence that he continue to compete the moment the latest cast was removed. He’d even enjoyed parts of the competition. Most of all, he’d craved his parents’ attention, and that was the only reliable way to get it. But then his favorite horse had broken a leg during a competition and had to be put down. He’d lost the fire to compete that day, realizing he’d only been doing it for his parents. More than anything, he’d wanted to go home and commune with the land and his horses.

      Time to change the damn subject. “What do you do in San Antonio?”

      She blinked at the quick change of subject, then said, “I’m a translator. Before I married I worked in New York at the United Nations.” She toyed with the Eiffel Tower charm on her simple silver necklace. “My husband worked at the stock exchange. We dated for a year, got married, moved back to his home state of Texas...” She shrugged. “Now I help translate novels for foreign editions.”

      Ah, the necklace and T-shirt made sense now. “What languages?”

      “Spanish, French, German.”

      “Wow,” he nodded, eyebrows lifting, “that’s impressive.”

      She shrugged dismissively, her hand sliding back to her neck, stroking the Eiffel Tower charm. “Words are my thing just as horses and running a business are yours.”

      Words were her “thing,” yet she had a virtually nonverbal son. “When you said you’re a city girl, you weren’t kidding. Do you miss the job?”

      “I don’t regret a thing,” she said between bites of cobbler. “I’m lucky to have a job that enables me to stay home with my son. I don’t have to worry about making the appointments he needs.”

      “What about help? Grandparents?”

      “My parents help when they can, but I was a late-in-life baby for them, unplanned. They’re living on a shoestring budget in a retirement community in Arizona. My ex’s parents come up with different options, ranging from some cult miracle cure one week to institutionalizing him.”

      “You should have their support.” Since weeklong camps had started in the spring, he’d seen how stressed many of the parents were, how near to breaking.

      “I have great friends and neighbors. I told you,” she said firmly. “No pity party.”

      “Fair enough,” he conceded.

      She stared down into her cobbler, the silence stretching out between them. Finally she looked up. She stirred a spoon through the ice cream on the side. “Do you always deliver dessert to the campers?”

      The question hung in the air between them, loaded with a deeper meaning he couldn’t answer. Sure, he was here for his grandmother, but he would have been here anyway.

      He settled for answering honestly. “You’re the first.”

      “Oh.” The lone syllable came out breathy, the wind lifting her hair.

      He reached to catch a lock, testing the fine red threads between his fingers before stroking it behind her ear. Her eyes went wide, wary, but with a spark of interest he couldn’t miss. For a long moment that stretched, loaded with temptation and want, he considered kissing her. Just leaning in and placing his mouth over hers to see if the chemistry between them was as explosive as he expected.

      But that wariness in her eyes held him back. He had limited time with her. One mistaken move and he wouldn’t have the chance to make it right before she left.

      He angled back, pushing to his feet. “I should let you turn in. Morning comes early here.”

      She blinked fast, standing. “Thank you for the dessert.” She stacked the containers and backed toward the door with them clutched in a white-knuckled grip. “I assume I will see you tomorrow?”

      “You most definitely will.”

      * * *

      It was only dessert. Only a touch to her hair.

      And just that fast, she was tied up in knots over a man she’d met this morning. A cowboy.

      God, she felt like a cliché.

      Nina stood at the sink and scraped the last bite of gooey dessert down the disposal before tossing the disposable container in the trash. And God, it would be so easy to stand here at the sink and watch Alex through the window as he walked away. She’d only known him for a day. She wished she could just call it physical attraction, but she’d enjoyed talking to him. Even liked the way he could let peace settle for moments, as well.

      Maybe she was simply starved for adult interaction. Her only time with other grown-ups centered on Cody’s doctors’ appointments or therapies. Even his play group focused on children with special needs. She wanted to give Cody every opportunity possible. But she couldn’t deny her life was lonely no matter what she’d told Alex about having friends back home. The only interaction she had with others was volunteering in Cody’s preschool program. Some said she should use that time for herself, and she tried. But it was easier said than done.

      This week truly was a relaxing gift for her and Cody. She dropped onto the fluffy fat sofa. The cabin was cozy, comfy. A pink and green quilt—Texas two-step pattern on a brass bed. The whole place was an advertisement for Lone Star relaxation without being hokey. A colorful rag rug was soft under her feet. The lantern-style lamps and overhead light were made to resemble a flicker flame.

      She should


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