Heart of a Rancher Page 13

  Planting her feet, she pulled on his hand, and he helped her, of course, by easing up from the ground. But even so, the shift in his weight and the fact that she pulled caused his momentum to move forward, and the next thing Dana knew she’d basically yanked herself into his chest.

  She inhaled, smelled the woodsy scent that had captivated her ever since she arrived on the farm. Then she heard the soft thunder of his heart against her ear. And she didn’t make any effort to move.

  He cleared his throat. “Guess I did underestimate you. You pulled me up.”

  She took a small, very small, step back. “I believe you helped.”

  “Maybe a little, but that was a good effort.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, you have some sort of women’s intuition that we’ll find good news in the mail today?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay, but I’m warning you. I haven’t gotten any good news out of that box this week.”

  “Then I’d say you’re due, don’t you think?”

  “You always see the cup as half full, don’t you?” he asked, as they walked across the field.

  “That’s funny, I thought that about you.”

  “Until this week.”

  “The week isn’t over yet.” She grinned, looking forward to the moment he found that letter in the mail.

  He opened the gate and let her pass through. “No, it isn’t. Who knows, maybe you’re right and some insurance company sent a letter giving us every bit of coverage we need to start a dude ranch in Alabama.”

  His tone leaned toward the sarcastic, but Dana merely nodded. “Maybe so.”

  He shook his head at the crazy idea, then moved to the silver mailbox and opened it.

  Dana’s heart raced, especially when she saw the thin cardboard that signaled an overnight letter. “What’s that?”

  He left the other pieces of mail in the box, his attention focused on the red, white and blue mailer with the eagle stamped across the side. “I’ve never heard of this insurance company.” He tapped the return address.

  “That’s because it’s one that I submitted to,” she said excitedly. “So, open it. See what it says.”

  He closed his eyes, kept them that way for a moment, and Dana had no doubt that he was praying. So she said a silent prayer, too.

  God, let all of this work out. Please don’t let him find out how I got the insurance. Let everything go smoothly from now on, and let the dude ranch be a huge success. And, if it be Your will, let him start feeling toward me what I’m feeling toward him. She opened her eyes to find John holding a paper in his hand and smiling. “What does it say?”

  “It says—” he grabbed her in a hug and let out an excited yell that caused Dana to jump, then he pulled back enough for her to see the happiness in his eyes, the joy in his smile “—it says...that we are going to have a dude ranch.”

  Chapter Ten

  John couldn’t believe how quickly things turned around after he received the letter stating that he had the insurance coverage. Now they really had to get a move on in order to get everything done before Dana took their results back to the Brooks International board. Granted, the megacompany had already decided to invest, but he wanted them to be happy with their choice. More than that, he knew how important it was to Dana, and the only way to get the board behind her for future investments was to make sure this one turned out to be a wise move on her part.

  So John was thrilled that he had a week off from college for spring break, giving him more time to work on the ranch...and more time to spend with Dana. He didn’t miss the fact that she’d be leaving in merely twenty days. He only had twenty more days with the woman who was on his mind 24/7, whether they were together, working on the ranch, or apart. He’d tried to control the attraction, the admiration and the affection that he felt toward the city girl, but day by day, he felt himself falling hard.

  After the pain of MaciJo leaving him high and dry, he hadn’t wanted to get hurt again. Therefore, he’d tried to barricade his heart, offer some sort of protection against the inevitable moment when Dana would leave his ranch and go back to the snazzy city guys and upscale lifestyle that he’d never be able to afford—and a lifestyle that he would never want, truth be told. But his big ol’ country heart wouldn’t listen.

  “Hey, are you even listening to me?” She shoved her shoulder against his arm as they hiked the trail that led to the town square. Then she stopped walking and stood with her hands on her hips. Incredible how she could still look classily pretty in a cowboy hat, Western shirt, jeans and pink boots. The pink boots, naturally, were what set her apart from every other cowgirl he knew in Claremont. And she apparently loved the cute accessory. She wore them everywhere. But right now, one of those boots tapped against the ground as she attempted to show mock irritation and she lifted a suspicious blond brow in his direction. “You haven’t heard anything I’ve said, have you? Probably too busy planning more things for the dude ranch instead of listening to me ramble, huh?”

  He grinned. Huh had entered her vocabulary over the past few days. He was pretty certain she’d never used the term at any of her business settings in Chicago. But she used it well now, and looked adorable doing it. “Honestly, no. I had my mind on other things.” Not plans for the ranch, but plans for getting up the nerve to tell her what he was feeling for her. If only she wasn’t leaving in three weeks—and potentially leaving his heart in tatters at the same time—it’d sure make things a whole lot easier.

  “Well, I thought it was a good idea, but if it didn’t even hold your attention, maybe not.” She nudged back the cowboy hat she’d borrowed from Georgiana so she could look at him better, and John took advantage of the moment to look at her, too.

  Her blue eyes reminded him of the photos he’d seen online of Caribbean waters. Her pretty face outdid any model’s in a magazine, her straight white-blond hair fell past her shoulders and tempted him to reach out and touch it, to feel the soft silk against his fingers.

  “John?”

  He laughed. One way or another, he had to get a grip on this attraction. “Yeah?”

  She tilted her head as though trying to determine what he’d been thinking.

  “Come on, we need to keep walking if we want to have a little time at the square before we have to start back. It doesn’t get dark until seven, but it’s already after four and we still have another half-hour hike before we get there. Then you’ll want to shop, I assume.”

  She pointed out the obvious. “I can’t shop too much, because we’ll have to carry everything back.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll need to make sure our guests have a way to get their things back.” They’d been busy the past two days giving direction to Titus Jameson about how they wanted the campsites laid out, where they needed the supply shack by the creek and how they wanted the trails cleared out enough for multiple riders. This afternoon they’d decided to hike the trail to the square and take note of how long it took to walk it, as well as what types of activities could be incorporated into this particular trail for guests.

  “Your guests wouldn’t have to tote everything back at all if you had the shop owners keep a tab for them during the week and then deliver the items to the ranch at the end of their stay.”

  He liked watching her mind at work. “That’s a great idea.”

  “Yeah, my other idea was pretty good, too—” she wagged her finger at him “—but you weren’t listening.”

  “Try me again. I’m all ears.” A big log lay across the path, and he took her hand to help her over it. “We’ll need to get Titus and his guys to move this for sure.”

  “Definitely.” She stepped up and over the log.

  John could have released her hand, but he didn’t. And her attention moved to where their fingers were joined, her
eyes easing up to reach his.

  “Okay if I hold your hand?” He sounded like a nervous teenager.

  She slid each of her fingers between each of his, her small palm easily fitting within his larger one. “Yes.”

  They started walking again, and John expected her to tell him about the idea he’d missed when he’d been daydreaming. But she didn’t speak, and he wondered if she was feeling the same undeniable attraction. From the flush on her cheeks, he guessed that this thing wasn’t at all one-sided.

  “So, are you going to tell me that idea, or are you waiting for me to beg or something?”

  Her nervous laugh echoed through the trees. “Oh, yeah, right.” She cleared her throat. “Okay, what I was thinking is that you could talk to the merchants on the town square about having some kind of scavenger hunt for your guests, where they are supposed to find items specific to each of the stores. We could even talk to the merchants today when we get to the square so they can start considering the idea.”

  “A scavenger hunt?” He could see guests enjoying the activity, but wasn’t sure whether the shop owners would want people scouring through their stores each week for items, especially if the process didn’t benefit their businesses.

  “Hang on. I’ve got it figured out. See, the shopowners would need to have the products on hand, small trinkets that would compliment the theme of the store. It wouldn’t be a random item, but something that’d been preplanned by you and the merchants. Maybe you could charge a scavenger hunt fee as part of your activities fees. Guests who wanted to participate in the scavenger hunt would pay that fee, and you could give that money to the store owners to cover the cost of the items.”

  “And the scavenger item would advertise the store and potentially convince our guests to make a few purchases there, as well.” John followed her reasoning, and liked it.

  “Yes, and to get everything on their list, they’d have to visit each store, which also provides the shop owners with a chance to show off their merchandise and maybe even share a little about the town at the same time. You could have a few Claremont history questions as part of the hunt. You know, they’d have to get answers to ten questions about Claremont, and they’d get those answers from some of the store owners.” She shrugged. “Something like that.”

  John thought about all the people he knew at the town square and how they were always interested in a way to boost business in the town’s sole shopping area. “I can just imagine Mr. Crowe at the barbershop sitting our guests down in one of his old black leather barber chairs and telling them all about the town. He’s in his late eighties now and loves to chat about the good ol’ days.”

  “We’ll put him on the list for answering a history question. Maybe you can even offer bonus points to guests who get a haircut from Mr. Crowe while they’re at the square.”

  He laughed. “That’d make his day.” John loved the older man who’d cut his hair his entire life, as well as his father’s and his grandfather’s. And Mr. Crowe loved company. No doubt all the guests from the ranch would benefit from getting to meet the sweet elderly man, but Mr. Crowe would benefit, too, because he’d have that many more people to visit with each day. “I really like that idea, incorporating the merchants in the scavenger hunt, and especially the haircut bonus. I can’t wait to tell Mr. Crowe.”

  “See, I told you it was a good idea.” She nodded her head and smiled triumphantly.

  “All right now, you’re quickly slipping from overly cute to overly confident,” he warned.

  “Overly cute? That’s how you see me?” She tilted her nose in the air and grinned. “I could get used to that.”

  “As I said, you were there, but you’ve moved right on into overly confident.” And charming. And heart-stoppingly pretty.

  She punched his arm, and John laughed.

  “Okay, okay, you’re cute.”

  That only made her punch him harder.

  “Overly cute,” she reminded, “that’s what you said.”

  “That is what I said.”

  “For the record, you aren’t too shabby yourself, if I’m being completely—” Her phone beeped loudly, and she stopped midsentence. “Oh, hey, I must have caught a signal.” She fished her cell out of her pocket and read the text. “Shockingly, it isn’t from Ryan.”

  “Maybe he gave up on trying to reach you out here in the sticks.” John smirked. The few times Ryan had gotten through to Dana in John’s presence, the guy’s irritation with the limitations of living on the ranch were undeniable, even if John only heard Dana’s side of the conversation.

  “Maybe he did. But this text is from Mandy Brantley.” She scanned the message. “She has the photos ready for your review and sent a link to see them on her site.”

  Mandy had visited the ranch after church on Sunday and had taken an abundance of photos of the trails, the waterfall and the creek. She’d told John and Dana that she probably wouldn’t have the pictures ready until later in the week, but she must have sensed their urgency, because today was only Tuesday, and she was done. “That’s great. Can you bring them up on your phone?”

  “I’m trying.” She tapped the screen. “The signal is getting weak again.”

  “I guess we can wait till we get to the square to take a look. As soon as we see them, though, I want to forward them to Casey. He’s itching to put them on the site. He went ahead and designed the basic layout, navigation and all, but he still needs the photos for the visual effect. Just think—our website might be up by next week and ready for us to start taking reservations.”

  “And I’ve set the ad campaign to start. You’ll be in the April issue of practically every ranch, outdoor living and vacation magazine. Not bad for two weeks’ work.”

  “Not bad at all.”

  She tapped her phone again and stared at the screen. “Looks like we’ll have to wait,” she said, her disappointment obvious. “I’m so anxious to see the pictures.”

  John surveyed where they were on the trail. “Hey, our old tree house is around this curve. Why don’t we see if you can catch a better signal up there?”

  “In the tree house?”

  He smiled. “You think we’re too old for climbing into tree houses?”

  “No...” The word was drawn out and sounded more like a question than an answer.

  Then he realized that her vision of a tree house was probably altogether different from the masterpiece his father had designed when John was only six. “Don’t worry. This isn’t some ordinary tree house. This is Cutter carpentry at its finest.”

  “Really?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way Abi’s did on Christmas morning. She slid the phone back in her pocket. “Okay, show me this mansion of a tree house.”

  He led her around the curve where, sure enough, the massive structure still held residence in a towering oak tree.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

  “Nope,” he said with pride.

  “It doesn’t look that old.”

  “That’s because we keep adding on,” he said with a laugh. “Landon and I added that skinny top section last summer when Abi wanted a lookout station. She said if the tree house was on Lookout Mountain, then it needed a special place where she could look out.”

  “She’s adorable, isn’t she?” Dana’s fondness for Abi had been yet another quality that John admired. She obviously liked children, and his niece had developed quite a fondness for the city girl, too.

  “Yeah, she is. I’ll be glad when she gets back from Tampa.”

  “Me, too. I’d like to see her here. I’m sure she loves the tree house. I can’t imagine anyone not liking it.”

  “If our guests take an interest in tree houses, we could add it as another dude ranch attraction. I’ll need to make sure Casey puts it on the site.”

  Dana nodded. �
��And if Mandy didn’t get any photos of it, let’s ask her to come take some.”

  “I’ll see if she can come back out one day this week. Casey can go ahead and use what she’s done so far, but a tree house picture should be on the site, too.” He pointed to the wooden slats against the tree that served as a makeshift ladder. “That’s the way up. You ready?”

  She tilted her head to see the top, then moved her hand to the back of her cowboy hat to keep it from tumbling off. The tree house was high, and John began to wonder if perhaps she had a fear of heights.

  “Still up for going in?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got to confess, I’ve never been in a tree house before. And the ones I’ve seen in photos haven’t been this big, or this high.”

  “You’ve never been in a tree house?” John couldn’t imagine a kid’s life that didn’t include a tree house.

  “No. Never.”

  Okay, so she lived in the city. Probably not a lot of grass, much less a place for big trees and tree houses. “But you at least built some kind of fort every now and then, right? With chairs and sheets? Sat inside with a flashlight and told scary stories at night with your friends or with Ryan? Surely you had something similar to a tree house. I mean, you had Ryan, so he’d have helped you do stuff like that.”

  Her laugh rolled out. “Ryan and I building a fort? Can’t even picture that, or what our housekeeper, Sylvia, would have done if we’d tried.” Her mouth lifted on one side, and her shoulder followed suit in a minishrug. “I guess I had a deprived childhood, didn’t I?”

  He realized the absurdity of her statement as he thought about all her family’s material possessions, but then, in the back of his mind, he thought, Yeah, you did. “Come on, then. You need to check this out. You’re long overdue. I had some serious good times in this tree house.” John grinned. “Landon and I spent time here hiding out from the bad guys.” He nodded toward the first rungs on the tree. “You go ahead. I’ll stay behind you in case you need any help.”