Winning Over The Cowboy. Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Landry crossed the foyer, cut through the great room and unlocked the door to Granny’s private quarters.
The entire dude ranch was constructed with exposed massive beams, rock work and wood everywhere. Log furnishings, nail heads, leather, cowhide and deer antler chandeliers. But Granny’s quarters had drywall and were filled with Victorian rose fabrics, lace and white wicker. A sanctuary.
Landry perched on the end of the bed and closed her eyes. After all the guests were settled, she and Eden used to spend hours in this room. Still in college, they’d shared their hopes and dreams with Granny, giggled over guys, tried on new makeup and hair tips. Had it really been seven years ago? Seemed like yesterday. It was here that Landry’s dream was born. To own a dude ranch someday.
Last fall when she’d visited, Granny had been gone. Eden had lived in these quarters then and had tried to put Landry back together after Kyle had dumped her. All in the midst of getting ready for her own wedding.
Landry had never imagined it would be the last time she’d see her best friend. Never imagined she’d end up as part owner here. Without Granny. Without Eden. But with Chase.
A chorus of crickets, owls and frogs echoed outside. It was too quiet in this huge house. Even with Janice and Elliot, a few of the staff and several guests, Landry felt alone.
But tomorrow they’d be hopping, according to the schedule. Staying busy would keep her mind off missing Eden. Missing Granny. Missing what her life was supposed to be.
She strolled to the window. The light from Chase’s cabin glowed in the distance. Such a peaceful night. But she’d never sleep.
Maybe fresh air would clear her mind. Stop it from spinning. She crossed the great room and the foyer, then stepped out.
Into a solid wall. “Oomph.”
“Whoa.” Chase’s strong hands on her shoulders steadied her. “Watch where you’re going.”
A nervous giggle tangled in her throat. “I would if I could. But I can’t see a thing.”
“Ever heard of a flashlight?”
“I thought you left for your cabin. What are you doing lurking on the front porch?”
“I own this front porch. Half of it, anyway.” The challenge echoed in his tone. “I was just trying to relax in the swing, heard somebody moving about, thought it was Mom and Dad.”
“Oh.” She hugged herself. “I just needed some air.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” The porch creaked with his heavy footfalls as he strode away from her. She heard the crunch of gravel and after that...silence.
Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she made her way to the porch swing, settling in the already warm middle part of the cushion. So he’d told the truth. He hadn’t been lurking. Yet she got the distinct impression Chase Donovan didn’t trust her.
But he needed her. And tomorrow, she’d just have to show him how indispensable she truly was.
* * *
Chase stopped on the porch and steeled himself, then opened the door to the ranch house.
Landry greeted him from the check-in counter with a bright smile, framed by the huge metal Lone Star on the wall behind her.
He’d half expected her to sleep in her first morning here. But here she was. She’d fastened her hair up into a high ponytail with the sides swooped low, covering her ears.
“Morning.” He tipped his hat.
“Good morning. What’s on the agenda today? I mean—other than three families arriving with numerous kids in tow.”
So she’d studied the reservations for the day. “There’s a drip under the sink in the Rest a Spell Room—and the toilet flushes slow in the Trail Boss Room. Don’t guess you know anything about plumbing.”
“I know a coupling from an elbow.”
“Really?” His voice and eyebrows kicked up a notch. “Want to be my plumber’s helper?”
“Sure.” She scurried out from behind the counter as if this was the highlight of her day. Wearing jeans, a casual purple blouse, tennis shoes. At least she was dressed more appropriately for work on a ranch than she had been yesterday.
Was she trying to impress him? Win him over? Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.
He strolled through the office to the maintenance closet, grabbed his plumbing box, turned and almost crashed into her.
“Oh, sorry.” She reached for the box. “Need anything else out of there? I can carry something.”
So eager to please. “I’ve got it.”
She turned away, crossed the office and headed for the stairs.
“It’s the third room on the—”
“I remember.”
He followed her up the stairs in silence, their footfalls echoing. He hadn’t figured out just how yet, but someway, he’d send Landry Malone screaming all the way back to Aubrey, Texas. By the end of the week. If not sooner.
At the top, she headed straight to the Rest a Spell Room, unlocked the door, held it open for him.
“This room was always one of my favorites.” She spun a circle in the middle of the space, scanning the barn wood walls and ceiling, then ran her hand over the suede bedspread. “So soothing. Lives up to its name. I stayed here when Ky—I stayed here last fall.”
When Ky what?
He slid the barn door open, strolled into the bathroom, set his toolbox down, opened the cabinet under the sink and knelt in front of it with a flashlight.
“Looks like a simple coupling on the cold.” He ran his finger along the dripping pipe.
“Do I need to turn the water off?”
“I can do that here.” He turned, eased onto his back, leaning on his elbows, and stretched his legs out in the cramped space. “Can you hand me that hacksaw and find the smallest coupling?”
“You mean the half-inch?” She settled on the floor cross-legged with her knee almost touching his, dug the hacksaw out of the plastic toolbox and handed it to him.
“You know your stuff.” In the three times they’d met, she’d been mostly quiet, maybe even uncomfortable. Because of Eden’s attempts at a fixup?
Despite his determination to resent her, she kept impressing him. Add to that, she was easy on the eyes with her unruly strawberry blond waves, enormous brown eyes a man could drown in and a smattering of freckles across her perky nose.
“My parents own a Christian bookstore with a coffee bar. I’ve helped my dad with lots of plumbing over the years.”
“So you’re a Christian?”
Silence. Maybe not.
“I am. But I’ve had a lot going on. Haven’t been to church in a while.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, then bounced back up to his. “You?”
“He got me through Eden’s death.”
“Me, too.”
Maybe they did have something in common. Other than Eden. But he couldn’t let his guard down with her. He lay back and stuck his head under the counter, banging his elbow in the process.
Heat shot through the length of his arm. “Ouch. That was my funny bone, and I didn’t find it humorous at all.” He clutched his right elbow.
“Sorry.” Sympathy edged her voice.
He reached for the coupling, and her fingers grazed his. “Do we have any disinfectant mold killer?”
“I