Читать книгу Home On The Ranch - Trish Milburn - Страница 10
ОглавлениеAfter Ella retreated into the house, Austin let out his breath and ran his fingers back through his hair. When was the last time a woman had taken care of him like Ella just had? His grandmother when he’d been a kid scraping knees and elbows around the ranch? It freaked him out how nice it had felt, her soft hands being gentle with his stupid injury but quick and efficient at the same time.
The moment her small fingers had touched his skin, a wave of heat had raced through him that had nothing to do with the climbing temperature outside.
Damn, of all the women toward whom he could have a powerful attraction.
With a shake of his head, he returned to the ladder and what he should be thinking about—working to get this ranch ready to sell.
But as he wrestled with the gutters, his mind kept wandering back to the woman inside the house. He seemed to always end up on dates with taller, leggy blondes. He’d assumed that was just his type. Even in high school, he’d dated Sophie Bellermine, who’d been a blonde and the center on the basketball team.
So why were his thoughts and hormones latching on to a petite brunette whose curls seemed to be hosting a party on her head?
What was she doing in the house anyway? Yesterday, she’d been like a whirlwind, speeding back and forth to her truck. Today she seemed to disappear inside for longer stretches of time. He just hoped she didn’t fall victim to an avalanche of his grandparents’ myriad possessions.
No, not his grandparents’ stuff, not anymore. Now it all belonged to him—at least until Ella could get it off the property.
As if thinking about her conjured her, Ella strode out to the truck carrying a box of...something. He didn’t even care what it was. Just wanted it gone.
He paused in the midst of attaching another portion of the gutter that had pulled away from the roof to watch her. Her legs might not be as long as a supermodel’s, but they certainly packed a lot of punch. Fit, smooth, tempting. His body stood at attention, making his jeans grow uncomfortable. But he couldn’t stop watching.
He would have been better off if a burly, hairy guy had shown up to do the job, but if someone had to be here for several days, she was a damn sight nicer to look at.
When she turned to walk back to the house, she headed in his direction instead. She shaded her eyes as she looked up at him.
“Glad to see you haven’t bled out.”
No, his blood was too busy rushing to other parts of his body to mess with a measly head wound.
“Despite evidence to the contrary, I’m not normally accident-prone.”
“Good to know, because I start charging for the second injury.”
He laughed, surprising himself. It seemed to release some well of tension within him he hadn’t truly been aware of. His arm and leg muscles relaxed, including the death grip he’d had on the rung of the ladder. He took a deep breath, maybe the first true one he’d taken since getting the call about his grandfather.
“You okay?” Ella asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded once toward the house. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I’m logging as I go so I can at least pretend I have a tracking system for supplies.”
She was taking the time to log piles and piles and piles of stuff that he would have sworn had outlived its usefulness? “Won’t that slow you down?”
He thought he saw a hint of a wince cross her face, but she was too far away to tell for sure.
“Some. I guessed that you still had quite a bit of work to do before you were ready to list the place.”
“I do. But I can’t do anything inside until it’s cleared out.”
Ella slipped her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, probably unaware of the way that movement accentuated her figure and threatened to make him topple off the ladder.
“How much more do you have to do outside?”
Plenty to keep him busy for several more days, but how could he convey that he just needed all the crap gone, out of his sight, out of his life without sounding like he had an irrational hatred for inanimate objects?
“A bit.” Way to be specific, dude.
“Got it, pick up the pace.”
Before he could respond, she spun and disappeared around the corner of the house. Frustrated by his mental hang-up about his grandparents’ stash, he looked up at the cloudless sky and let out a long sigh. He needed to chill, let Ella do her thing. After all, her hauling everything away wasn’t costing him a penny. He needed to appreciate that positive fact instead of letting his past make him want to throw however much it cost at someone to haul everything out of here today.
Calm the hell down.
Despite his “a bit” answer to her question, he had more than enough to keep him busy that didn’t require him stepping foot in the house.
It seemed being away from Blue Falls for several years had made him forget how to cope with things out of his control—concentrating only on the thing directly in front of him and pretending everything else didn’t exist. Movement out of the corner of his eye revealed itself to be Ella striding to the truck, her arms full of several small, teetering boxes.
How the heck was he supposed to pretend Ella Garcia didn’t exist?
* * *
ELLA STALKED BACK into the house, frustration and fatigue gnawing at her. She wasn’t really mad at Austin. After all, he’d been up-front with her about wanting the place cleared out as quickly as possible, and she’d agreed. But she dreaded trying to log everything after she’d shoved it...somewhere. She couldn’t think now about the fact that she didn’t have enough space for everything here, not even close. She’d have to figure that out later, when she had to move everything yet again to log it, then put it back wherever she’d crammed it. She didn’t have time for doubling or tripling her efforts, but it wasn’t as if she was willing to walk away from the current windfall either. Even if the faster she got away from Austin Bryant, the better.
When she’d been tending the cut on his forehead earlier, her fingers could have easily continued exploring if she hadn’t forcefully reined them in. The man was too good-looking for her comfort. She kept having to dissuade herself from making up reasons to go out and talk to him just to hear the sexy rumble of his voice, to see how nicely his jeans fit his backside, to watch the play of the muscles in his arms as he worked.
It sure had been a while since infatuation had hit her this hard and this fast, not since she’d fallen instantly head over heels for Jacob O’Riley when she was a freshman in high school, only to have him and his family move to Ohio. She remembered crying herself to sleep the night she’d found out that he’d moved, convinced it was the end of the world.
Well, she wasn’t going to be crying over Austin Bryant, and it wasn’t going to be the end of the world when he went back to Dallas. Sure, she’d miss the whole sexy-package thing he had going on, but soon enough she’d be buried in her work and too darn busy to wonder about what Austin was doing more than two hundred miles away.
No, she’d enjoy the male scenery while they were here crossing paths, and that would be that.
Several times throughout the day, she came across items that she wanted to ask Austin if he’d like to keep. But he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested, which saddened her. How many times had she wished she had more keepsakes, more tangible items with memories attached? But not everyone was like that. Still, something in her gut told her he wasn’t as unattached as he claimed.
By the time she’d unearthed an old treadle sewing machine, her truck was filling up again. She stood back, eyeing the half of the bedroom where she’d been working for the past couple of hours. She’d made a good-size dent in the contents of the room and was now able to see one whole wall.
Ella looked out the window, estimating the space left in the truck versus the space needed for the sewing machine. After she had time to examine it more thoroughly, she’d figure out what to do with it. For now, it was destined for that rectangle of space left at the back of her truck bed. She hated to do it, but she was going to have to ask Austin for help with this one.
But when she went outside, he was nowhere to be found. She walked around the house, noting that the gutters appeared to all be in their proper spots, but no Austin. She spun in a circle, but she still didn’t see him. Oh well, she wasn’t going to chase him down, wherever he’d gone. It might take some wrestling and grunting, but somehow she’d get the sewing machine in the truck. After all, she was used to doing things by herself, a necessity of single life.
Then she’d go home, unload everything and face-plant in her bed until she had to get up and do it all over again. Maybe she’d be so tired by the time she crawled into bed that she wouldn’t even have the energy to fantasize about Austin Bryant joining her there.
* * *
AUSTIN STOOD IN the tack room of the barn staring at little pieces of the life he’d enjoyed sharing with his grandfather. Unlike the rest of the indoor spaces on the ranch, this one small room was orderly and free of clutter. When he hadn’t been outside, this had been the place where he’d felt able to breathe. Odd since the room was so small compared with everything around it.
He took the couple of steps that brought him within reach of the wooden pegs on the wall where more memories hung. He ran his hand down the rough fabric of his grandfather’s old work jacket he’d used in the winter. How many times had Austin seen his grandfather wearing it as he’d gone out to take care of the cattle or to work on machinery?
Austin had never felt more alone than he did in that moment, when it really hit him that all of his family was gone. Oh, his dad might be out there somewhere, but he wouldn’t know the man if they sat beside each other on a plane.
He grabbed the hat he’d come in here to retrieve and headed back out, wondering when the heavy sadness that seemed to have settled in his chest would dissipate.
When he stepped out into the sunlight, he noticed Ella at the bottom of the front steps, struggling to maneuver his grandmother’s old sewing machine.
Damn fool woman was going to hurt herself. Then wouldn’t they be a pair, unable to get through an entire day without sustaining an injury.
He put on his old hat and ran toward her. Without making a big deal about it, he lifted the heavier end of the machine that was still teetering on the steps and helped her carry it to the truck. Ella did her best to hide how hard it was for her to carry the weight on her end, and he admired her for it. Sure, it could be seen as stubborn, but he liked the fact that she worked hard and did things on her own. Sure, any decent guy had the instinct to take care of a woman, but he couldn’t stand the women who acted helpless to get a man’s attention.
Whatever problems he’d had with the way his grandparents had chosen to live, he could never accuse them of being lazy. They had been the two most hardworking people he’d ever known. He did his best to follow in their footsteps in that regard, if not others.
When they reached the back of the truck, he pointed toward the bit of empty space left in the bed. “Hop up and I’ll lift most of the weight up to you.”
He doubted the wisdom of his direction when Ella’s shorts stretched across her hips as she shoved herself up into the back of the truck. When he forced himself to avert his eyes, they landed on the top of the closed sewing machine. Out of nowhere, a memory of his grandmother sitting at the machine stitching together the top for a patchwork quilt assaulted him. He couldn’t have been more than four or five at the time, but the image was as clear as if he’d watched the scene only yesterday.
“You okay?” Ella asked.
“Yeah. Just remembered a time I saw my grandmother working on this.” He rubbed his hand across the wooden top. Had the quilt she’d been piecing in that memory been the one that ended up on his bed? That part he couldn’t remember.
“So maybe you should keep it?”
For a moment, he even considered it. But only a moment. He shook his head. “I have no use for it, and I can’t even remember the last time I saw it.”
He looked up in time to see Ella press her lips together in a straight line, signaling she didn’t understand him. He guessed that went both ways.
“Let’s get this thing loaded.” He took the brunt of the weight of the sewing machine as they lifted it up into the bed. And it was a good thing because he realized Ella looked on the verge of collapse. As soon as the machine was in the truck, she sank onto the side of the bed.
Had his assertion that he needed things cleared out fast pushed her to work too hard? Guilt twisted inside him, right alongside the hunger. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the cinnamon roll, and he didn’t think Ella had either. And it was already late afternoon.
“I think we need a break and some food,” he said.
“I’m okay,” she said with a faint wave of her hand that proved she wasn’t. Not to mention the audible growl of her stomach that she seemed to be hoping he hadn’t heard.
“Well, I’m not. I feel like I could eat half of one of those cows out there.” He pointed toward a few head of his grandfather’s herd huddled under one of the few trees that dotted the pasture.
The edges of her mouth turned up a bit in a tired smile. “Since you put it that way.” She patted a pile of boxes next to where she sat. “Let me get this tied down and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Leave it. Trust me, no one is going to make off with it, and there’s a zero percent chance it’s going to rain.”
The slight widening of her dark brown eyes told him she was just catching on that he meant for them to go eat together. He half couldn’t believe it himself. But it wasn’t a date, just him making sure she ate and drank enough on his watch. The last thing he needed was something to happen to her that would make his stay here even longer.
Sure, tell yourself all kinds of lies. You just want to sit across the table from her.
Okay, maybe that was true. He was a guy, and guys liked to look at pretty women. It was hardwired from day one. Plus, he really was hungry.
“What are you in the mood for?” she asked.
She really didn’t want him to answer that question. Instead, he shrugged. “As long as it’s food, not picky.”
“Pizza?”
“Sounds good.”
She nodded once and got to her feet. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed her at the waist and lifted her to the ground. When she broke contact and took a step back, Ella looked every bit as startled by his action as he was.
“Um, thanks.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“No problem.” Oh, except for how all the nerves in his body had jumped to full attention the moment he’d placed his hands at her small waist. “Don’t want you taking a header into the dirt. One head wound per day is the rule around here.”
She smiled, easing the tension he’d caused. “Hope you’re buying, because I plan to put away a boatload of pizza.”
“It’s the least I can do for your medical services and how hard you’re working to clear everything out around here.”
“I should wait until after you’ve paid for the pizza to say this, but you’re doing me a huge favor, letting me take all this stuff. I’ll put it to good use.”
He couldn’t imagine how, but if it made her happy and it made him happy, he wasn’t going to argue with a win-win situation.
As he drove toward town, Ella visibly relaxed in the passenger seat and pointed both air vents on her side of the car at her face.
“This feels heavenly,” she said. “My plan is to take something I get from your place and make enough profit to fix the stupid AC in my truck.”
“It doesn’t work?”
“Pooped out on me a few weeks ago. I’m running the two-sixty air now—two windows at sixty miles per hour.” She laughed a little at her own bit of humor.
She might be making light of the situation, but no AC in Texas was like no water in the desert—unbearable. Working outside in the heat was one thing, but living without it when you were in your house or car was just cruel and unusual punishment.
He slowed down when they came up behind the mail carrier, then pulled around via the opposite lane. Ella waved at the woman driving the little red pickup.
“So you’re not from here,” he said. “How did you end up in Blue Falls?”
“I visited with a friend and liked it so much I made it a goal to move here. It just sort of fit my personality.”
He glanced over at her. “How so?”
“It’s friendly, eclectic, has small-town charm but isn’t so insular that newcomers are treated like invaders. It just seemed to be a nice place for people who’ve lived here their entire lives to share space with people who choose to relocate here.”
“Never thought of it that way.”
“Probably not at the front of your mind when you live so far away,” she said as she readjusted one of her air vents. “How’d you end up in Dallas anyway?”
“It’s where I got a job after college.”
“So Keri said you work for an energy company. What do you do?”
“Head of logistics.”
“So you tell people where to get stuff when.”
“In a nutshell.” He slowed as they came into the edge of town.
“Sounds...um, very organized.”
“Which in Ella language means boring?”
“You said it, not me.” The way she appeared to be trying not to laugh caused him to snort a little as he made the turn into the parking lot for Gia’s.
When he held open the front door of the pizzeria for her, her smile lit up her entire face. And damn if he didn’t think it was the prettiest thing he’d seen in ages.
“Thanks,” she said. “Nice to see the city hasn’t robbed you of your chivalry.”
“You do know Dallas is still in Texas, right?”
“Really? I hadn’t heard.”
He smiled and shook his head. Ella Garcia had a lot of sass in that little body of hers, and damn if he didn’t like it.
They slid into a booth in the back corner near the entrance to the kitchen. He took off his hat and placed it in the seat beside him.
“Nice hat, by the way,” Ella said. “It suits you.”
Maybe it had at one point in his life. “You barely know me.”
“I’m decent at pegging people quickly. Comes from never staying any one place too long when I was growing up. It was figure out who to make friends with fast or not have any at all.”
“Lot different than going to school with the same people for thirteen years in a row.”
“Yeah, foreign concept to me.”
The waitress, a little blonde teenager about the size of his pinky finger, came and took their order for a large sausage pizza.
“So, back to the hat,” Ella said. “You look at home in it. No interest in becoming a rancher?”
“When I was younger.” Back when he’d held out hope that maybe his grandparents would change, would see how the way they chose to live affected him.
“When I was younger, I thought I’d be a fighter pilot when I grew up.”
That surprised him. “Really?”
“And then I changed my mind and was determined to become an anthropologist. Then a professional figure skater even though I’d been on ice skates exactly twice. But, hey, it was the year the Winter Olympics were in Nagano, and we were living in Japan. Guess you could say I changed career paths as often as we changed addresses.”
“And you settled on making stuff out of other people’s junk?”
She sighed. “People are too eager to label things junk. We’re such a throwaway culture. I like trying to imagine how to give something that’s seemingly outlived its usefulness a new life. And lucky for me, there are buyers.”
“A lot of them?”
“Enough that I need to figure out how to clone myself. And my house.”
His skin itched at the idea that she might be packing her house as full as his grandparents had. “You don’t have a shop?”
She shook her head as the waitress placed their drinks on the table then spun to take the order at the next table.
“A little toolshed and the back porch. One of my long-term goals is to be able to buy a place with a lot of room to spread out with storage and work space separate from my house.”
He tried to imagine her selling enough reclaimed home decor to afford such a place and had a hard time picturing it. But then he wasn’t the most knowledgeable guy about interior decorating or whatever was in style. Somehow he thought his style was probably called minimalist.
“I know a place that will be for sale soon,” he said with a little smile that conveyed he knew that probably wasn’t in the cards for her.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. Alas, it’s me and the little rental for the foreseeable future. I may see if I can convert the toolshed into a little store if my landlord will let me since they’re working to get the arts and crafts trail up and running.”
He must have given her a questioning look because she went on to explain.
“The local tourist bureau is compiling a list of all the artists and craftspeople in the area and is going to create a trail with a map so tourists can go from one to the next shopping for handmade items and original art.”
“Sounds like a good way to bring in more tourist dollars.”
He tried to picture Ella sitting in a little metal toolshed with the name of her business painted on the outside. For some reason, he didn’t like the image. She seemed like a hard worker, a go-getter, someone who believed wholeheartedly in what she was doing. Someone like that deserved a better public presence than a place you’d normally store garden tools and lawn mowers.
“If you’d like me to look at a business plan or your work flow plan, let me know.”
She stopped with her glass halfway to her mouth. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah. Why do you seem so surprised?”
“Because quite honestly I’m surprised you stopped progress on getting the house ready to sell long enough to come eat, let alone look at the business plan of someone you’ve known barely more than two seconds.”
“It’s something I can do easily when I go back to the hotel at night.” It was certainly a better use of his time than staring at the ceiling imagining Ella lying in bed next to him. At that thought he had to shift in the booth to make himself less uncomfortable. Thank goodness the table hid what those kinds of thoughts did to him.
“I’ll think about it. Thank you for the offer.”
“That wasn’t meant to say you don’t know how to run your business.”
She flipped her hand as if to wave away his concern that he’d insulted her.
“Just a little intimidating. I mean, I’m not exactly running a big corporation here.”
“Every company starts small.” True enough, but a lot of them failed, too. Ella seemed to believe in her business so much, it’d be a shame if hers failed because of lack of proper planning. Sure, he didn’t understand her business, but all businesses came down to numbers. And numbers and logistics he understood.
