Читать книгу Falling For The Rancher - Tanya Michaels, Tanya Michaels - Страница 12

Chapter Six

Jarrett came in through the mudroom that connected the carport and the kitchen. As he pulled off his boots, he heard the sound of female voices arguing on the other side of the door. Damn. Maybe it had been irresponsible of him to leave Sierra and Vicki alone all afternoon, but there was so much that needed to be done on the ranch.

Plus, exercising the horses being boarded at the Twisted R and preparing soil for fall crops kept him almost busy enough to avoid picturing Sierra Bailey on that massive bed upstairs.

He groaned, wondering if he had time for a cold shower before he helped negotiate a truce between the women in the kitchen. But then Sierra laughed, a rich throaty sound, and he realized that the bickering he’d overheard was good-natured, not spiteful. He couldn’t make out Sierra’s words, but whatever she said made Vicki snicker, too.

He froze, trying to recall the last time he’d heard his sister laugh. Amusement had been in short supply since her accident. He’d been confident Sierra could help facilitate his sister’s physical rehabilitation, but he hadn’t expected that, in one short day, she could help Vicki rediscover joy, too. Gratitude struck him full in the chest. Hearing Vic sound happy, even for an instant, highlighted just how miserable and withdrawn she’d been. He wanted his lighthearted sister back, the one who had a bright future ahead of her and thought her big brother hung the moon.

Then be that guy, her hero, not the jerk who jokes about sexual prowess with the hired help.

Right. No more flirting with Sierra. That moment up in her room had been an anomaly, not proof that he was slipping back into his old habits.

Filled with renewed purpose, he opened the door and entered the kitchen. The door to the walk-in pantry was wide open, and Vicki sat in front of it, craning her head to read some of the cans and boxes on the top shelf from her wheelchair.

Sierra stood at the kitchen counter, writing in a spiral notebook. She spared a quick glance in his direction. “Hey, cowboy. Have a good afternoon milking cows and—”

“They’re beef cows,” Vicki corrected her. “Not dairy.”

“Alrighty.” Sierra tried again. “Have a good afternoon herding dogies and riding the range or whatever it is you do?”

Vicki snorted. “You’ve never spent time on a ranch before, have you?”

“Nah. I’m a fan of civilization—places you can find with GPS, towns with movie theaters that show more than one movie.”

“I think the Cupid’s Bow Cinema is up to three films at a time,” Jarrett defended his hometown. “Although, they might all be from last year. What are you ladies up to?” he asked, crossing the kitchen to get a cup out of the cabinet.

“Grocery list,” Sierra said. “I have an exciting Saturday night ahead of meal-planning. It’s vital that Vicki gets lots of vitamin D and calcium right now. Meat’s important, too, so I’m relieved she’s not a vegetarian.”

Contemplating a bleak, steakless existence, Jarrett made a face of reflexive terror. “We come from a long line of carnivores.”

“Except for softhearted Aunt Pat,” Vicki interjected. “She used to help her dad take care of their cows and got too attached. Now she’s— What do you call those people who don’t eat meat except for seafood?”

“Pescatarian,” Sierra supplied.

Vicki snapped her fingers. “Right. But Uncle Gus got her a saltwater aquarium for Christmas, so seafood might be out now, too.”

“Fish would be a good staple for your recovery diet,” Sierra said. She turned toward Jarrett. “I already went over some options with Vicki. She said she likes trout. That sound okay to you?”