The Cowboy's Girl Next Door: A BWWM Cowboy Romance (7 page)

Chapter 8

After finishing up his work at Heart’s Home, Jess went back to the stable office to talk with Big Hank about starting on the barn in the morning. He gave instructions to Lacey about the financial implications of the legal agreement, ignoring her raised eyebrows when she saw the total cost of the barn demolition and replacement. The ranch could easily afford it. Then he headed to the house to clean up, stopping only to tell Jasper to get Horatio saddled up for a ride out to the orchard later.

He’d moved into his parents’ bedroom a few years earlier. It was comforting to be there at the end of the day, and the room was filled with memories. The massive four-poster bed, built by his great great grandfather, made him feel safe and secure. There were photographs on every surface, pictures of Hardys past and present, treasured reminders of the family heritage.

Soldiers in Confederate uniforms sat comfortably next to those of the family members who’d fought for the Union. A lesson, his father had always said, about the importance of  remembering all of your past to ensure you didn’t make the same mistakes in your future.

He turned on the hot water in the shower and removed his clothes. The bathroom was filled with steam by the time he was ready to step inside the enclosure, and he welcomed the hot needles that pounded his skin. As he washed, his mind turned from the past to the afternoon that lay ahead.

Maybe taking Horatio out was a mistake, but he wasn’t feeling inclined toward much prudence. If they were going to be neighbors, their horses would need to be on friendly terms, and while Claire was certainly stubborn, he could be too. It would be a fresh start for all of them, including the horses.

He was eager, too, to see Claire ride, up close. He wanted to know more about how she’d come to horses, her big city background an unusual place from where such interests would emanate. He smiled as he imagined a younger version of the beautiful woman, curls sneaking away from her tight ponytail as she trained for her first show. That image was soon replaced, though, with the smile she’d given him earlier, and he felt a flutter of excitement at the memory and his surprise at her offer.

A puzzle, that’s what she was, and he was eager to find out everything there was to know about Claire Robinson. She might want to just be friends, but he was starting to think he wanted so much more. He switched the tap to cold, rinsing off quickly, then wrapped a towel around his waist.

Fifteen minutes later, he was ready and composed. He’d chosen a deep green shirt and his best dark jeans. He’d shaved carefully, but stopped himself from adding a splash of the cologne Cella had given him last Christmas. “This isn’t a date,” he reminded himself. Satisfied that he looked every bit the friendly rancher taking his new neighbor on a tour, he went back to the stables.

Claire and Thalia were already there, rider deep in conversation with Jasper and Lacey while the mare stood quietly by, her gentle nickers and loving nuzzles to Claire’s arm evidence of the deep trusting bond they shared.

He paused to take in the scene, eyes moving from Claire’s trim jeans to her well-fitted blue blouse. She had rolled up the sleeves, a sleek gold bangle at her wrist, and her mouth, well; he couldn’t keep his eyes from it, her lips lush and deep burgundy. She had dressed for the occasion, too, and he began to wonder if he shouldn’t have opted for the cologne after all.

“Careful, now,” he called out as he approached the trio. “Lacey’ll have all your secrets spread over town in two shakes of a lamb’s tail if you’re too free with her.”

Jasper laughed, but Lacey rounded back. “Jess Randall Hardy, you know I don’t traffic in gossip!” She turned to Claire. “I just find that the townsfolk appreciate knowing what’s happening out here, since some of us are a bit too isolated from the community.” She gave Jess a withering look, and he felt the need to make amends.

“I know, I know, Lacey. Truth be told, I’m glad I’ve got you as a partner. Left to my own devices, I’d be the town recluse, and no one would know if I was alive or dead.” To Jasper, he asked, “Horatio saddled up?”

“Yep. He’s in the corral behind the stables, ready to go. Put an empty saddlebag on him, too, in case any of those blackberries are ready.” He leaned over to whisper in Jess’s ear “I really need Lacey to make one of those cobblers soon.”

Jess chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He looked over to Claire. “Nice to see you, Ms. Robinson. Welcome to Bar None Ranch.”

Claire’s warm smile did nothing to steady his heartbeat. “My pleasure, Mr. Hardy, and I’m so glad to have finally met your wonderful sister. It’s good to know this ranch is in such capable hands.” She winked at Lacey. “Shall we head out?” She didn’t wait for his answer, swiftly mounting the waiting mare and beginning the walk to the corral.

Jess walked alongside them, enjoying his first close-up. She had a fine seat, and her show training was evident. She was regal, and it was easy to imagine her in full equestrian dress.
Born to it
, he thought as they approached the corral.

“I hope it’s OK that I’m riding Horatio today,” he said as he unbolted the gate. “I wanted you to get to know him, well, the regular him.”

“It’s fine,” Claire said, and Jess breathed a sigh of relief. “Like you said, it’s only natural. Besides, Thalia is still a few days away from coming into season. I think we’ll be OK.”

She watched as Jess swung up into the saddle, and her breath caught as they walked toward her. She bit at her lower lip. She was here to be friendly, neighborly, even, but not to let her heart start taking her in directions that were unproductive. She nudged Thalia forward, and they started toward the orchards.

As they rode, Jess pointed out various parts of the ranch. Claire was impressed at the stables and training fields and the big arena where they hosted horse shows and auctions for the local community. It was a great deal to take in, and Claire began to see the contradictions inherent in Lacey’s earlier interaction with Jess, the brother so eager to keep his life grounded and at home, the sister seeing the potential for greater outreach to the community. The ranch was successful, that was clear, but they had the opportunity to do so much more.

She ventured a question. “Have you thought about running a summer camp here? For kids from the cities.” She looked around at the rolling hills, a lush verdant landscape. “They never get to see this.”

Jess pulled Horatio to a halt. “Now who’s getting into whose business?” His tone was gentle, but Claire could sense she’d struck a nerve, and she proceeded with caution.

“Sorry. I deserved that. It’s just…well, I know what riding has meant to me. I can’t help but want that for others, if that makes any sense.”

“It does, and I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He sighed as they continued their walk to the orchard. “Lacey’s been pushing me to do something like that for years now. She’s even had Cella design a website for the ranch, and I know she’s just waiting for me to give her the go ahead. It’s a big responsibility, though, taking care of other people’s kids. I’m just not sure we’re ready.”

Claire nodded her understanding and they rode the rest of the way in companionable silence.

When they arrived at the orchard, Jess dismounted to open the gate and led Horatio through it. Claire followed, and after he’d secured the gate behind them, they put the horses in the small enclosure behind the boarded up fruit stand. They watched them for a moment, then, satisfied the horses were getting along, they took the canvas bags Jasper had sent along and went in search of ripe berries.

The berry patch was abuzz with life and the rich smell of sweet juices. Much to Claire’s delight, the blackberries were full and ripe, and they lost no time filling the bags. Jess told her about his mother’s work on the orchard, how she’d insisted on adding the fig trees, the fruit being a childhood favorite. They laughed as Claire shared her mother’s first experiences making fig preserves, how she put in far too much sugar and  turned the expensive treat into a caramelized mess. “My dad ate it, though, every bit. He didn’t want her to feel like she’d wasted anything.” She grew quiet then, turning her attention back to the blackberry bush.

“Your dad sounds like a good man,” Jess said.

“The best,” Claire answered. “We lost him last year.”

“Oh,” Jess replied, then added, “I would have liked to have met him. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Claire nodded, her lips tight as she tried to fight the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. This was too much. The vastness of the space, the enormity of the quiet, and his gentle kindness threatened to overwhelm her. This was what she’d wanted, the peace of the country, the openness of space around her, and yet she hadn’t realized that it meant opening herself, too.

She sniffed. “Thank you. I’m sorry for yours, too.” She looked around the expanse of the orchard, the neatly rowed trees extending off as far as her eyes could see. “Your mother sounds incredibly kind and generous.”

Jess’s warm smile was intimate and comforting. “That she was.” He straightened up quickly and handed her his bag of berries. “Be right back.”

Claire stood, confused, then shrugged. Feeling a bit uncomfortable in the hot sun, she walked over to a nearby oak and sat in its shade while she waited. She thought of her father, how he would have loved to visit such a place, how it would have sparked memories of his childhood on a Georgia farm.

Her mother had never truly understood his love of the country, but Claire had right away, and again she thanked him for the careful investments he made in her future. She was here, under this tree, because of his love, and for that, she was oh so grateful.

Jess returned with a faded blanket and a small ice chest. Inside were a few bottles of cider. “We don’t have a press here. Send them out after harvest, but I promise you, the apples you’ll taste here come directly from our ranch.” He opened a couple of bottles and they sat sipping the sweet tart drinks as they watched the insects buzz around in the hot May sun.

“How did he die? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The question hung between them, and for a moment Jess worried he’d gone too far, too quickly. She took a swig of the cider and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Jess was transfixed at the sight, her elegant movements making a gesture his mother would have chastised in him, seem as natural and right as breathing.

“The doctors said it was his liver, his kidneys,” she said flatly, “but he said it was ‘the city.’ Typical story: country boy moves to the big city, gets caught up in things he shouldn’t. Hard drinking, some drugs. He always said my mom saved him from that.”

She took another drink, finishing the bottle. “They met at a church social, and she saw something in him: something real, grounded, even with all the fake stuff he was spouting to fit in.” She leaned back against the tree and pulled her knees to her chest. “He lived a long life, longer than he would have if she hadn’t met him. I’m thankful for that, and Heart’s Home.”

Jess was puzzled. “Did he buy the ranch?”

Claire shook her head. “Yes and no. He wasn’t rich, but he was smart with money, well, once he stopped drinking. He and my mom worked hard for everything they had, and he always put a little aside for me. He cleaned offices at night at an investment firm, got to know the brokers who worked late, asked for their advice about growing his money. Made sure my mom would be comfortable after he died and left the rest to me.”

She turned her eyes toward the sky, marveling at the patches of blue peeking through the leaves on the tree. “That’s how I could buy Heart’s Home outright. Would’ve taken me years otherwise.”

Jess took another bottle from the cooler and offered it to her. She accepted and drank deep, then rummaged through one of the bags to pull out a handful of berries. She extended her hand to Jess. A shiver ran up her arm when he took the fruit, his fingertips lightly brushing her palm. She smiled at the handsome rancher.

“What about you? Your mom?”

Jess looked down and cleared his throat. “Cancer. I was ten, and it happened so fast. She just got real sick, and they wanted to do chemo, but she refused, saying she’d rather not spend her last days hairless and puking her guts up.”

He moved to sit next to Claire against the tree, almost close enough for their arms to touch, seeking some small comfort in just being near someone. “I understand it now, but back then, I thought she should have held on, just for a little while longer.” His voice broke as he finished. Instinctively, Claire took his hand in hers.