Roping In The Cowgirl

“All right. I’ll give you the short version. Chloe Martinez inherited this ranch with the idea of turning it into a retirement home for cowboys. She used to work at an assisted living facility in town, the same one where Sam lived.”

“So she offered him a job?”

“Actually, she didn’t know much about ranching, so she would visit with Sam and ask him questions. As you probably know, he’s got a wealth of experience. So he gave her advice about things—like when a cattle broker was trying to cheat her. He’s been a godsend to her and to the old men at the ranch.”

“My uncle was one sharp rancher.”

“He still is. As for the Rocking C, it’s not just a retirement home. It’s a working ranch, which provides our residents with a familiar living environment. That’s something Chloe realized was lacking at the place in town, especially when it came to men like Rex.”

“Are all the residents as cantankerous as that guy?” Blake asked.

“Rex is actually pretty lovable, when you get to know him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.” Obviously, Blake had his doubts. But Shannon adored everything about Rex.

“You said you were in charge,” Blake said. “Where’s Chloe, the owner?”

“She and her husband are taking classes in graduate programs at the University of Texas, and I’m covering for her while she’s gone.”

Blake’s arm brushed her shoulder, setting off those tingles again. “And you like it here?”

“Yes, of course. But I’d prefer to have a position at the hospital in town. This job is only temporary. Once Chloe and Joe return, they’ll take over again.”

There had been one benefit she’d received by working here. She’d managed to find a place for her aunt to feel needed again.

Who would have guessed that a romance would spark between Joy and Sam? How sweet was that?

Shannon nearly mentioned that to Blake, but decided it wasn’t her place to let him know how happy her aunt and his uncle were. Just thinking about the May-December romance made her smile, especially when she remembered Sam’s words when she’d asked if he was happy. “You bet I am,” he’d said. “Thanks to your aunt, I’m downright Joy-ful these days.”

As Shannon and Blake walked along the side of the barn, he continued to quiz her about life on the Rocking C. “Are all the retired cowboys as critical of the new hands as Rex is?”

“No, not usually. But that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy sharing their knowledge about cattle and horses every chance they get to corner one of the younger guys.”

“And letting them know when they’re doing something wrong?”

“That certainly happens.”

As they circled the barn, the crisp breeze blew a strand of hair across her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear, wishing she’d had time to weave it into a single braid before leaving her house.

“Still,” she said, “even though Rex was complaining, those new men are working out just fine.”

“Did my uncle tell you that?” Blake turned to her, his arm brushing hers again. His gaze zeroed in on her, and her steps slowed.

“Yes, he did, and I believe him. I grew up on a small spread myself, and while I’m no expert, I think some of Rex’s complaints are over the top.”

“I’m surprised that Sam didn’t hire more experienced hands,” Blake said.

“That’s because Chloe couldn’t afford to pay the higher salaries those men required, although we’re all hopeful things will start looking up soon.” In fact, Sam had refused to take a paycheck for himself, probably for that reason. He understood profit-and-loss statements. So did the owners. That’s also why Joe Martinez, Chloe’s husband, was getting an MBA. He hoped to learn more ways to generate funds, including donations.

But Shannon had probably said too much already to Sam’s nephew, the attorney. So she held her tongue. No need to see him get riled up about that. He seemed to have enough bothering him already.

There was another reason she kept quiet. One she didn’t like pondering.

Blake had finally ditched his scowl, and Shannon liked seeing him smile. Especially with that gleam in his blue eyes, the change in expression made him just as good-looking as she’d thought it would.

And if what she’d heard about him was true, he was the worst possible man in the entire world for her to find attractive. To make matters even worse, he might soon be considered family. And she would bet her last dollar he wouldn’t be the least bit thrilled to hear that news.

Chapter Three (#ulink_f955d274-1ffb-5984-afa2-945e6f910110)

The brunette wearing the yellow apron turned out to be the ranch cook—and she was an excellent one, at that.

After serving Blake and the residents in the dining room, she returned to the kitchen, where Sam was eating with the hired hands. When she’d first asked Blake to sit at the table with the oldsters, he’d gotten the feeling that his uncle might have come up with the seating arrangement in order to avoid him. But then he’d wondered whether Sam might have wanted to separate the working men from the residents for one reason or another.

Either way, Blake now found himself seated across from Nurse Shannon and flanked by Rex and another elderly man, whose name escaped him. However, Shannon had just gotten up to take a phone call, so her chair was now empty.

“By the way,” Rex said to no one in particular, “there’s going to be a rodeo at the Wexler Fairgrounds next spring. It’ll be in April, I think. Anyway, I have a friend who works with the outfit promoting it, and he said the head honcho is looking for worthwhile local charities to support. I told him all about Rocking Chair Ranch. He liked the idea of sponsoring us and is going to talk to his boss.”

“Good for you,” another retired cowboy said. “That’s one way to make sure we can keep the doors open. I’d hate to have to move back to that place in town.”

If Rex suggested that a rodeo sponsor the ranch, then it sounded as if they might be struggling to keep things afloat. Shannon had implied there were financial concerns about hiring more-experienced hands, but he hadn’t realized they feared going out of business. He’d only been here a short while, but he could see why these men would prefer to live in a setting like this.

Moments later, when Shannon returned to the table and took her seat, Blake shot a glance at her, then at Rex. But the old cowboy didn’t repeat his announcement.

Did Shannon already know what he’d asked of his rodeo buddy?

Rex elbowed Blake. “Don’t hoard all those warm biscuits, Fancy Pants. Pass them down, will you?”

Apparently word had spread that Sam had given Blake that nickname. He found the moniker bothersome, but he’d have to live with a few verbal jabs—at least while he was here.

So he shook off his annoyance, reached for the bread basket and passed it to Rex. “Here you go. Do you want butter, too?”

“Yep. And the honey, if you don’t mind. Thanks.”

Blake returned his focus to his plate, which the cook had filled with a working man’s portion of tender short ribs, mashed potatoes and glazed carrots. He picked up his fork and continued to chow down.

Chow down? He hadn’t used a phrase like that in ages. Not since he was a kid hanging out on Sam’s ranch, tagging along after the cowboys and hoping to be one himself someday.

Back then, the Western way of life had become so ingrained in his mind that he’d always returned home to California at summer’s end talking like a true Texan, a habit that usually hadn’t worn off until Christmas.

Ever since his arrival on the Rocking C, ever since he’d caught the first familiar whiff of alfalfa and spotted the cattle grazing in the pasture, he’d found himself thinking in terms of the cowboy vernacular he’d favored as a boy. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to stay here so long that he returned to Beverly Hills talking in a slow Texas drawl. Wouldn’t his partners in the firm give him grief about that.

He reached for his sweet tea and took a couple of chugs. He’d forgotten how thirst-quenching an ice-cold glass could be—when it was made just right.

Next he took a warm biscuit from the cloth-covered basket, split it open and smothered it with butter. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal like this since... Well, not since his last visit with his aunt and uncle. Nellie had been an amazing cook, too. That’s one of the many things Blake missed about her.

Sometimes at a restaurant, although it wasn’t often, he’d spot chicken fried steak on the menu and order it for old times’ sake. But he’d never tasted anything that could compare with the way his aunt used to make it.