Читать книгу Romancing the Rancher - Stacy Connelly - Страница 8

Chapter One

“You know, you’re more than welcome to stay with us.”

Theresa Pirelli shifted her gaze from the towering redwoods flashing by the passenger-side window to glance over at her cousin Sophia Cameron. Concern drew Sophia’s dark eyebrows together beneath her fringe of bangs, and Theresa forced a smile.

A smile she’d gotten used to pulling out like fine china—all for show and, often she feared, just as fragile. “As much as I’d love to spend my whole trip spoiling that baby of yours, the three of you need your time alone.”

And so do I.

After the weeks she’d spent in the hospital following a devastating car accident and then the months of recovery under her parents’ watchful and worried eyes, Theresa desperately needed an escape. But it had to be one that wouldn’t cause her parents further angst. A visit to Clearville and to meet the newest member of the family fulfilled both of those needs.

But with her cousin Drew getting married to local baker, Debbie Mattson, her family would soon descend en masse on the Northern California town. Her freedom from their almost suffocating concern wasn’t going to last long, but she planned to make the most of it and use these precious days to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

“Not so much alone time that you couldn’t stay with us for a few weeks. Adult conversation is appreciated, you know. I’m half afraid baby talk is going to become my first language.”

Despite the complaint, Theresa didn’t think she’d ever seen her cousin so happy. And why not when Sophia was married to the man she loved. A man who was not her son’s biological father. They’d had a rocky start to their relationship, but Jake had fought hard to prove that he was the family man she’d been looking for, finally winning Sophia over.

It was a similar battle to the one Theresa had fought with her fiancé, Michael Parrish. Only she had lost.

Her muscles tightened, as if physically trying to block out the memories. Her right hand curled into a tight fist in her lap while her left hand...did not.

After pulling in a deep breath, she made sure her voice was even and calm as she stated, “It’s not like we won’t see each other while I’m here just because I’m staying outside of town.”

“I know but...in one of Jarrett Deeks’s cabins?”

From what Theresa had read online, along with being an equine rescue, the Rockin’ R offered trail rides, lessons and boarding for horses. Recent expansion included building half a dozen or so guest cabins on the property. Judging by the somewhat stark descriptions on the website, the cabins didn’t offer much in the way of amenities. They were an alternative for people who didn’t want to stay in the cute and cozy Victorian bed-and-breakfasts the small town was known for.

Theresa supposed hunters and fishermen drawn to the area by its rugged wilderness weren’t interested in sleeping in the “Rose Suite” or “Daisy Drawing Room.”

“I’m sure the cabins will be fine,” Theresa insisted. Long hours working as a nurse in a St. Louis emergency room had taught her to sleep wherever and whenever she could. Lumpy couches, narrow, uncomfortable beds, even sitting on the floor with her back propped up against a wall had all provided her with a few hours’ rest between many a shift.

All part of the job she loved. The job she lived for...

“I know the cabin will be fine,” Sophia was saying, her cheerful voice calling Theresa back from the empty, endless void of her future, “but I was thinking that having you stay over would be like when we were kids, and you and your brothers used to come visit.”

Memories of those long-ago summer vacations drifted through her thoughts. How she’d loved the freedom of roaming the woods outside her cousins’ small hometown. “That’s a nice thought,” she told her cousin, even though she knew those carefree days were long gone. “But I need some time on my own.”

She’d been offered a place to stay for the next month with any one of her four cousins, but Sophia and Jake had the new baby, Nick and Sam were both newly married, having met the loves of their lives within the past year, and Drew was preparing for his own wedding. Her aunt and uncle had also offered her a room at their home, but that would have been almost the same as staying with her parents.

Even the small apartment above the antiques shop Sophia managed on Main Street had been a little too close. She could imagine family popping in every few hours. She loved them all and appreciated their concern—truly. But the strain of pretending everything was all right weighed so heavily on that porcelain facade, hairline cracks had started to show through. And just the thought of letting her family, or anyone, know how damaged she was beneath—

It won’t happen. I will not break.

She unclenched her fist, covered her left hand with her right and ignored the voice in her head whispering that she was already broken.

* * *

A few minutes later, Sophia pulled the car to a stop in front of a rustic building at the end of a graded dirt road. Through the trees, Theresa could see a corral and what she assumed to be the stables. As she opened the car door, the early-spring air carried a faint hint of hay and horses. The surroundings were so peaceful and quiet, she took her first deep, relaxing breath since...she didn’t know when.

“I’m pretty sure this is Jarrett’s rental office,” Sophia said as she rounded the front of the car and approached the building, “but it doesn’t look like he’s around.”

“I received an email confirming my reservation, so I’m sure this Jarrett knows I’m coming.” The website hadn’t offered any information about Jarrett Deeks, the owner of the stables and the newly built cabins. Sophia had said something about the man being a retired rodeo star.

Theresa could easily picture the aged cowboy relaxing in one of the rocking chairs that sat on the small porch. The perfect spot to greet guests and tell tales about roping calves and riding bulls or whatever he’d done back in the good ole days.

“He’s probably down at the stables,” Sophia said with a frown.

“Then I’m sure he’ll be back to the office in a few minutes.”

Her cousin sighed. “From what Nick says, Jarrett can be totally fixated when it comes to his rescue horses.”

Theresa knew the feeling. Or make that had known the feeling. The hectic pace of the emergency room could be overwhelming without the ability to focus on the job at hand. She could admire that kind of determination, and if it meant he’d forgotten about her arrival...well, that was okay.

She grabbed the edge of the car door to help pull herself to her feet, careful to balance her weight on her right leg. But even then, the muscles in her entire left side screamed after the long flight from St. Louis and ride in from the airport. The reconstructive surgeries on her knee had gone as well as expected, and thanks to the titanium rod and screws holding her broken femoral shaft together, the fracture had healed to a point where she no longer needed the crutches she’d so hated.

But the recovery was taking so much longer than she’d anticipated, even if her doctors and therapists insisted her rehabilitation for her leg was right on track. If she kept up with her therapy, she would in time regain her strength and range of motion. It was her other injury, the one far less obvious than the broken femur and damaged knee, that had a less-promising prognosis.

Nerve damage...

Could completely heal...

Might regain full use of hand...

But for all their noncommittal responses, Theresa feared her body was giving an answer that screamed louder than any words. The nerves weren’t healing. She didn’t have full use of her hand.

Look at you! You can’t even take care of yourself. How do you expect to help anyone else?

Echoes of the harshly spoken words battered her, the emotional blow rocking balance and stealing her breath as much as the ache in her left leg. Theresa forced herself to move as if she could run from the painful memories, but the best she could manage was a shuffling walk that failed to outdistance any of the raw images from that final fight with Michael.

“Maybe we should drive down to the stables,” Sophia was saying as Theresa made her way toward the porch.

The breeze cooled the sweat gathering at her hairline, and she was almost out of breath, but she’d made it from the gravel drive and up the three front steps. Waving a hand at one of the rockers, she said, “I’ll just wait here for him.”

“Theresa, no.”

“Sophia, yes,” she retorted. “I’ll be fine.”

The weather was crisp and cool, but far milder than the snowstorm she’d left behind in St. Louis. A small stream of sunlight filtered through the trees, bathing the corner of the porch with a warm glow. She’d brought her knee-length, red wool jacket and black leather gloves with her and would be perfectly warm enough to wait outside for Jarrett Deeks.

Between her time stuck in the hospital, in rehab and then at her parents’ house, she didn’t think she’d spent more than a few hours outside since the car accident. And most of that time was dedicated to the long, painful process of getting to and from doctors’ appointments.

“I’ll just get my bags and—”

But Sophia was already racing back toward the car with a cheery, “I’ve got them!”

And of course, she did. She had the wheeled suitcase and over-the-shoulder bag out of the trunk and back up on the porch before Theresa could have made her way down the front steps.

She pulled in a deep breath. After all, in the months since the accident, she’d learned a lot about patience, hadn’t she? Swallowing the anger, the frustration, the self-pity at her inability to complete the simplest tasks from bathing to walking to putting on her own shoes. She’d come a long way, and she just needed to hold on to that patience a little while longer and wait for the rest of her family to catch up.

So she simply said, “Thank you,” as her cousin set the luggage beside her.

Sophia beamed back and leaned in for a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Anger and frustration slipped away, and she was grinning by the time her cousin pulled back. “I am, too.”

“What’s so funny?”

“You still wear the same perfume, but you also smell like baby formula.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “It’s the latest scent. Worn by exhausted new mothers everywhere.”

But Sophia didn’t look exhausted. With her dark hair cut in a short pixie style and her brown eyes sparkling, she looked as adorable as she had when they were kids and just as happy. Ignoring the twinge of jealousy, Theresa said, “You make it work. Now go back to that beautiful baby and hot husband of yours before he tracks you down like we both know he can.”

“He is rather amazing, isn’t he?” Sophia asked with a smile, but rapid blinking told Theresa she was fighting back tears. “He said he loved me enough for both of us and that it wouldn’t matter...”

“But you still wondered,” she filled in softly.

Her cousin shook her dark head. “I shouldn’t have. Not even for a second.”

“You’re a lucky woman, but I still think if you asked him, Jake would say he’s the fortunate one. He has you and your baby.”

“Two for the price of one,” Sophia joked. “Who doesn’t love a bargain?”

After another few minutes arguing that Theresa would be fine waiting by herself until Jarrett Deeks arrived, Sophia finally—reluctantly—agreed. She backed away from the small office with a wave, and Theresa waited until the car was out of sight before slowly lowering her aching body into the rocking chair. The long trip and mini-reunion at Sophia’s place had left her far more exhausted than she dared let on.

The chair swayed beneath her weight as her legs gave out, and she practically collapsed into the seat. She was glad Sophia had a man she could lean on, but past history had taught Theresa she was better off standing on her own—no matter how shaky she sometimes found the ground beneath her feet.

* * *

Jarrett Deeks swore beneath his breath as he heard the approaching sound of a car engine and the crunch of tires over the gravel lane leading past the stables. It could have been someone interested in boarding their horse at his place. Or maybe tourists wanting to take a late-afternoon ride on one of his many trail horses. Even a kind soul looking to adopt one of his rescue horses. Could have been. But he’d bet the ranch it wasn’t.

No, he was pretty sure that car carried his first paying customer and guest to his new rental cabins. He snorted as he gave the gelding he’d been brushing a final pat. When he’d placed ads in hunting and fishing magazines, his plan had been to target men like himself. Guys who enjoyed nature and wildlife and were looking for an escape from city life. Not that Clearville offered much in the way of city life. But the small-town sense of community was almost worse than crowded cities and their towering sky-rises.

Getting lost in the city was almost as easy as getting lost in the wilderness. Both could leave a man feeling small and insignificant, a breath away from disappearing and never being found again. But in this small town—

He couldn’t disappear if he tried. He’d hardly set foot on Main Street before half the townspeople seemed to know who he was while the other half was busy finding out. The instant curiosity and word of mouth had been a help, he had to admit, both to his rescue and to the stables. He didn’t doubt that it would give his newest venture into the hospitality business a boost, too.

But that still didn’t ease the uncertainty he felt about welcoming people onto his property. Though he’d lived much of his professional life in front of a crowd, he’d left that world behind. He had no interest in where-are-they-now stories showcasing him as a has-been bull rider.

The affinity he felt for the animals had given him a second lease on life when his rodeo career ended—when his fans, his friends, even the woman who claimed to love him disappeared from his life. He’d felt as lost as some of the horses and didn’t know where he might have ended up if the rescue hadn’t given him a new purpose.

His boots echoed on the concrete floor as he walked down the center aisle, a sense of pride filling him, as Silverbelle—his latest rescue—stuck her head over the top of a stall. Her long, graceful neck was extended as she looked for a treat. He handed her the piece of carrot he’d saved for her. She’d come a long way, and he was determined to keep the rescue going for other horses just like her.

That was where the idea for rental cabins came into play. Cabins for hunters and fishermen. Outdoorsmen like him. Not so much for women. And sure as hell not for Theresa Pirelli.

What was she thinking, staying at the Rockin’ R in the first place? If she didn’t want to room with family, the bed-and-breakfasts in town were made for a woman like Theresa. Elegant, graceful and delicate, the beautiful buildings with their gorgeous gardens and what he assumed were lace-and-floral guest rooms would be a perfect backdrop for her.

Jarrett didn’t doubt Theresa was very much a modern woman, but with her creamy skin, raven hair and blue eyes, she had an ethereal, timeless beauty. Seeing her at one of her cousins’ weddings, he’d thought she looked like one of those cartoon princesses his half sister had loved as a kid—all big eyes, bright smiles and long, flowing hair.

She didn’t belong in a rustic cabin unless seven dwarves were staying there with her.

Heaving a sigh, he headed out of the stables. As he stepped outside, he gazed out at the dense trees surrounding his property. He inhaled the scent of pine and a hint of ocean air almost as if he could breathe in the peace and quiet. He’d long ago figured out he was far better with animals than he was with people. But at the moment, people paid the bills.

Jarrett wasn’t a fanciful man, but the life insurance policy his father had left him had been a final gift and, more than that, a kick in the butt from the great beyond. Without his father’s investment in his future, it would have taken years if not decades before he would have had the cash or the land he needed to get the equine rescue up and running. Thanks to his dad, he now had both.

But buying the small ranch and refurbishing the stables had taken up a chunk of change already. Add to that the bills for hay and feed and veterinary services, and what he had left wouldn’t last long. That was where the rental cabins came in. If he could make a success out of those, he’d feel better about taking on more animals.

Which meant welcoming Theresa Pirelli onto his property even if she didn’t really belong there. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket as he rounded the curve toward the small rental office cabin.

He immediately spotted Theresa sitting in a shaft of sunlight on the front porch. As he drew closer, he saw her eyes were closed, and he felt as though he’d been handed a slight reprieve. A minute or two to try to come up with some welcome-to-the-ranch spiel he should have thought of long before now.

On a second glance, he realized another reason to be glad Theresa’s eyes were closed. It gave him a chance to take in the sight of her without letting his shock show. Her skin was pale, devoid of any healthy glow, and her dark hair, caught back in a low ponytail, was a stark contrast. Shadows haunted her eyes and made the hollows of her cheekbones more pronounced. Yet somehow, she was still beautiful enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

Cowboy boots weren’t made for sneaking up on people, and her eyes flew open the minute his foot hit the first step. Her blue gaze widened and then widened some more as she took him in—from the hat shielding his face, to the checked shirt beneath his denim jacket, his faded jeans and the boots that had signaled his approach.

Realizing she didn’t recognize him—and why should she when he made a habit of not standing out in a crowd?—he said, “I’m Jarrett Deeks.”

“You— You’re—” She frowned, her delicate eyebrows drawing together, before she shook her head. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting...” Her voice trailed off without telling him what exactly she hadn’t expected, and she said, “Theresa Pirelli. Nice to meet you.”

He managed a quick nod, that welcome speech completely deserting him and leaving him feeling as awkward and out of his element as he probably looked. “Cabin’s not far from here. I can bring the truck around—”

“If it’s not far,” she said with a lift to her chin, “why not walk?”

Because you look ready to fall over in a stiff breeze.

He knew better than to say the words out loud. He’d heard about the car accident Theresa had been in. Knew she was in town to attend yet another of her cousins’ weddings. But he could see she was here for another reason—to recover. Maybe even to figure out where her life went from here.

If he’d been a man better with words—better with women than with horses—he might have tried to tell her he understood. That he knew what it was like when life threw you to the ground and stomped on you with bone-crushing hooves.

Instead, he gave her what little he could. “Sure. Let’s walk.”

He grabbed the two suitcases immediately. Theresa might have won the walk to the cabin, but no way was he going to let her struggle under the weight of that luggage, not even to salvage her pride.

“I can get those,” she insisted.

“All part of the service,” he injected, pleased with how smooth that sounded.

She frowned, and he readied himself for an argument, but her focus and frustration quickly turned toward the challenge of climbing from the low-slung rocking chair. She braced her feet on the porch and pushed off on the chair’s upswing. She overcompensated for a weakness of her left side, and for a split second, he feared she’d fall.

Hands filled with luggage, he swore beneath his breath as she stumbled. He envisioned her hitting the porch the same time as the suitcases he dropped while reaching for her. His hands bracketed her upper arms, and his mind registered the thinness and fragility of muscle and bone even as his body breathed in a feminine scent of wildflowers.

Their gazes collided as she looked up at him. Her lips parted on a soundless gasp—pale pink, inviting and mere inches from his own. Close enough for him to feel a whisper of breath against his skin. Close enough to make him wonder—as he had ever since the first time he saw her—what it would be like to kiss Theresa Pirelli.