The Cowboy's Return. Susan Crosby
Ever since the gold rush more than a century and a half ago, the Ryders and the Morgans had ranched these parts, were stewards of this majestic land. Over time, however, cycles of drought, pestilence and the Great Depression had forced both families to sell much of their land. In the past forty years they had been buying back property, reclaiming their heritage and rebuilding their dynasties.
Theirs wasn’t a Hatfield-and-McCoy-style feud, but a fierce, relentless competition for domination of land and cattle holdings.
And now they both wanted Annie’s land. If she knew Mitch was a Ryder, she would send him packing, maybe even decide he was part of a ploy to get her land for his family. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, but also she needed him—someone, anyway—to get her greenhouse operational, if she stood a chance at all to turn a profit.
The irony didn’t escape Mitch. His father needed her to fail, and here Mitch was trying to help her succeed.
Except he couldn’t see how she stood a chance of surviving another year financially.
Mitch carried his empty coffee mug into the house for a refill and came upon Annie standing in the kitchen perfectly still, staring straight ahead.
“Morning, Annie.”
“You made coffee.”
Crap. He’d screwed up. Maybe she kept coffee for a special occasion. Maybe the price was too—
“Thank you,” she said. “This is going to sound maudlin, but no one’s done anything for me for so long.”
Honestly, he’d made coffee because he wanted some and didn’t want to wait for her to get up. He didn’t know what to say so he poured himself another cup, avoiding conversation. After a few seconds, he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured one for her. “How do you take it?”
“Black, thanks.”
He finally looked at her face. She smiled. Her hair was freshly brushed, falling down her back in golden waves, reminding him of the Cinderella poster on his sister Jenny’s wall when she was a kid, the one of Cinderella scrubbing floors, her mice friends around her, which Jenny preferred to the ball scene with the prince.
Annie leaned against the kitchen counter, the mug cupped in her hands. “You’re up early.”
“Always. What time does Austin get out of bed?”
“I let him sleep until six-thirty, more for my sake than his. I like a quiet start to the morning. Once he’s awake, it’s noisy. I generally fix breakfast around seven. If you’d like something to tide you over, toast or—”
“Seven’s fine.” What he’d like was to untie her robe and see what she was wearing under it, what she wore to bed, although he doubted she slept in the nude. “Stick to your regular schedule. I’ll adapt.”
Mitch pulled a folded-up paper from his back pocket and passed it to her. “I made a list this morning of what I could see needing fixing. Anything you want to add, just write it down. We’ll get the high tunnel up today, provided it really can be installed in one day, as the literature says. I also came across some chicken wire in the barn, enough for three small patches anyway, which will do for a temporary fix.”
“Where’d you find that? I thought I knew every nail and post stored on this property.”
“Tucked behind some old boards covered in spider-webs.” He took a sip from his mug, stalling before he broke some bad news. “Um, are you aware there’s a leak in your barn roof?”
She sighed. “Yes. Will a patch do for that, too? I can’t swing a new roof yet.”
“We can try.”
“It’s going to have to be you, not we. I don’t deal with heights well.”
He wasn’t fond of heights himself, and that ladder of hers looked pretty rickety. Apparently she thought he was a superhero who could do anything. He wondered how long he could stall the roof job. The chance of rain was slim at the moment.
“Had the place been abandoned for long before you got here?” Mitch asked, copying her stance of leaning against the counter.
“A year, but Rick’s uncle hadn’t been able to take care of it for a while before that, so no one had been working the land. It was a mess. It had taken Barney’s lawyer a long time to find us, because we moved around a lot. Rick was surprised to be Barney’s heir. He hadn’t seen his uncle since he was a boy.”
“Where had you been living?”
“When they found us? In Reno. We were both blackjack dealers, working different shifts.”
“I can’t picture that,” Mitch said, more surprised than he let on. “You seem like Mother Earth.”
“I took to this land instantly. I was so glad to get out of the casino, where you’re barely aware of day and night, much less actual time. And then there’s the noise and desperation. It got to be too depressing for me.”
“I’ll bet you were good at it, though.”
“I make it a point to be good at whatever job I’m doing. I’m kind of fanatical about that. But this land? I’m willing to work my fingers to the bone to stay here, to raise Austin where he’s outdoors a lot and in a real community, even if we have to eat beans most of the time. I’m finally home.”
Mitch admired her determination but was worried about her, too. Someone that driven, that single-minded, often didn’t see it was time to quit until they were broken, which made for a much longer recovery.
“Where’d you grow up?” he asked, sipping his cooling coffee.
“Everywhere—although always in cities. My parents moved all the time. I ended up marrying a man who lived the same way. By the time we landed here I was worn-out from it all, but more than ready to settle.”
She was still worn-out, but in a happier way, he supposed.
“I’m going to go read the instructions on the greenhouse,” he said.
“Really? A man who reads instructions?”
He leaned around her to set his mug in the sink, intentionally brushing her arm while trying to make it seem unintentional. She didn’t move out of the way. In fact, she went very still.
“I’m out of my element,” he said. She smelled good. Fresh. Female. “But I’m pretty good with my hands.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He liked that she didn’t let him get away with trying to unsettle her a little. He also liked that she seemed to have the same attraction that he did.
Although he had no idea what to do about it.
“There’s a video on YouTube that shows a high tunnel being put together,” she said. “I can pull it up, if you like.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
She found what she was looking for then stood behind him as he watched. He was completely aware of her. If he angled back just a little, his head would rest against her breasts. He’d already deduced she wasn’t wearing a bra. On some women, that wouldn’t matter much, but Annie’s breasts swayed when she moved. At one point, she rested her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to the monitor, the fluffy fabric of her robe brushing his ear. She pointed at something he couldn’t see through a sudden burst of desire, which affected even his vision.
“This is the part that confuses me,” she said. “Do we have to bend all those poles ourselves?”
The only reason he knew the answer was because he’d unwrapped all the parts and inspected them. “They were pre-bent at the factory.”
“Oh. Good.”
He turned around in the swivel chair. She didn’t move away,