The Cowboy's Inheritance
Автор
Julia Ruth
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Chapter One
Rachel Spencer tightened her grip on the reins as she brought Sunshine to a halt. She adjusted the wide brim of her hat to block the bright morning sun from her eyes. She still couldn’t quite see who had pulled into the Circle H Ranch twenty minutes ago, but whoever drove that sporty black car evidently wanted to stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. No one in Rosewood Valley cared about money, let alone flashing their material possessions around.
Was this person the new owner of the neighboring ranch? A ribbon of remorse curled through her gut, both at the loss of her beloved neighbor and the potential loss of this prime piece of land. Oh, she had no money to purchase, but surely there was something she could do, right? She didn’t believe she’d come this far and jumped every hurdle life had thrown at her to just miss her dream property. Besides, anyone who drove something so sporty and ostentatious likely had no clue how to properly care for a farm. Probably had shiny shoes that wouldn’t dare go near a cow field or a chicken coop.
Rachel glanced at her own worn cowgirl boots as she pushed her bitterness aside. With a tap of her heel to Sunshine’s flank, she started forward again. She had to get a closer look. She wasn’t sure what her intent had been when she saddled up in her family’s barn moments ago, but the unknown had been eating at her since she’d seen the sports car speeding down the two-lane road right past Four Sisters Ranch this morning.
If nothing else, she needed to introduce herself and give a stern warning about the tractors that were often on the road.
She truly wished her mood would lift, but she was human and lately there seemed to be one blow after another. She really wanted to catch a break.
Rachel actually wondered if she should turn back and not come across as some nosy town crier ready to spread the word on the newbie. In a town this small, she’d have no problem finding out what was going on with George Hart’s property and who this stranger was.
But just as she had the thought to leave, a tall man came around from the side of the wraparound porch. He adjusted his dark sunglasses, then propped his hands on his hips as he stared out onto the front yard. The jeans and simple T-shirt didn’t seem flashy, which was quite a juxtaposition to the black car sitting in the drive. But then she squinted to his shoes... Yup, shiny. Just like the car.
Sunshine let out a neigh and the stranger on the porch jerked his attention her way. So much for sneaking in and out.
“Thanks a lot,” she muttered to her mare.
With another soft tap to her side, Sunshine took a casual approach across the field and onto the Circle H. Raking her gaze over the pristine two-story white farmhouse sent a warmth through Rachel. This was the exact type of home she’d always envisioned for herself and the family she wanted someday. Flower boxes under each window and a porch with swings and rocking chairs that just begged for family gatherings and sweet tea on a summer day. At least, that was how she dreamed of her future.
“Mornin’,” she called.
No reply in return. The man remained still and didn’t seem to get the memo that folks around here were chatty and friendly. Well, if he had any intention of sticking around, he’d have to learn real quick.
Considering she’d much rather figure out who this handsome stranger was than get back to her term paper due at the end of the week for her online class, she kicked Sunshine back into gear.
“You’re new here.”
Way to state the obvious.
“I’m Rachel Spencer,” she added so he didn’t think she was completely crazy. “From Four Sisters Ranch.”
“Jack.”
Rachel waited, but apparently “just Jack” had no last name. Regardless of his lack of manners and social skills, she smiled. Maybe she could get him to crack a smile as well. Not that he wasn’t handsome enough with that light sandy hair and dark brown eyes. Even from on top of her horse, Jack seemed tall, over six feet, if she was guessing.
“I take it you’re the new owner,” she said.
“Something like that.”
Rachel held on to the reins as she threw her leg over the saddle and dismounted. She led her mare closer to the porch as she tried to squelch her worries and her curiosity. If desperation and adoration could buy this land, she would have already signed her name on the deed long ago.
Being nearly thirty-five and living in a loft apartment over a barn on your parents’ property seemed a little pathetic and unstable. Not to mention her parents needed that extra space for their growing farm-to-table events business they’d launched just a few months ago. Who knew offering such an experience would be such a huge success?
Her sister Jenn, that was who. The brainchild behind the operation.
Rachel knew her parents would never ask her to leave and would never even hint that they needed the space, but considering she knew the ins and outs of the daily operation—not only with the farm, but also all the growing events they’d added to bring in more income—it was well past time she move on and start her own legacy...and the Circle H was the perfect place.
Now, if she could only figure out how to buy when the bank had approved her for a certain amount and this place was worth well beyond that, no doubt... If it even went up for sale. Which was why she had to be careful in her questioning but still figure out the intentions of this stranger.
“You need any help settling in?” she offered. “My mother will likely bake something to welcome you to the neighborhood, but I’m more of a hands-on girl, if you and your wife need any help moving things.”
Jack came down the steps and stood at the base. Now that they were on even ground, she could appreciate his height and broad shoulders. The lean frame and heavy-lidded stare shouldn’t have her heart beating faster, but she was human and couldn’t help how she felt. He had that city vibe with his polished attire, but a bit of his messy hair made him seem just a bit country, like he’d just removed his hat.
She’d never ogled another woman’s husband before. She really should have turned around earlier when she had the chance. Yet here she was, unable to move her feet.
“It’s just me and I won’t be staying here for long,” he explained.
Something about that statement both pleased and intrigued her, but she couldn’t take the time to assess all her thoughts. She’d crossed property lines on a mission.
“Putting the farm on the market?” she asked, wondering if she could get some type of ballpark price to see exactly what she was working with so she could start praying.
“Soon.”
A blossom of hope opened and she took a step forward. “I’ve always loved this place,” she told him. “As a little girl I’d come visit and maybe make a pest of myself.” She smiled thinking of the summer afternoons she’d spent here with her sisters. Come to think of it, one of the reasons they’d spent so many summer days here was because of their neighbor’s grandson, an older boy who’d captured their interest. She chuckled as she recalled. “George Hart had the cutest grandson that would visit from out of town. I might have had a little crush, though now I can’t even recall his name. I showed him how to bait a hook to fish on the pond in the back. He was absolutely terrible at fishing.”
Rachel laughed and shook her head at the adolescent recollection, realizing she’d been babbling. “Sorry. I just have so many memories of this place. So, how did you know the owner?”
Jack took two slow, easy steps and stood just a few feet from her when a crooked, adorable smile spread across his face. She’d been waiting on a smile from him, but now that he presented it, she had a pit in her stomach because he looked a bit like he knew something she didn’t.
“I’m the grandson and terrible fisherman.”
Rachel. Her infectious grin faltered just enough to know she regretted her words, but her childhood secret hovered between them now.
He remembered the infamous four sisters hanging around, but it had always been Rachel who wanted to fish in the pond and help on the farm. She’d been such a tomboy, and from the looks of it, not much had changed. Her long hair fell in a braid over one slender shoulder and her white cowgirl hat shielded her eyes. Her worn jeans, even more worn boots and simple red T-shirt were all perfect staples of the girl-next-door look. Quite the opposite of the women he was used to seeing back in San Francisco. Many of them preferred heels to boots and makeup over a natural look. He had to admit, Rachel was nice to look at.
“Is this when I turn and leave and we pretend I didn’t just admit my ten-year-old crush on you?”
Yeah. Quite different. Bold and assertive right off the bat. Something about that confused him. He wasn’t used to women like that, but the other part of him found her intriguing and refreshing. The last woman he’d gone on a date with had giggled her way through the evening, almost trying too hard to give him attention.
Not that he was looking for a love connection—he was looking for a buyer. He had one goal in mind—to sell his grandfather’s farmhouse quickly and figure out what to do with the feed store in town that had also been willed to him. Then get back to San Francisco. Finding a date wasn’t even on the page of his to-do list. Gaining his father’s approval and taking over the new real estate office came above all else. He hadn’t worked this hard to prove himself to his only living family member just to lose this promotion to a guy who wasn’t even family...but acted like the son Jack’s father had always wanted.
Forget about Brian.
“No need to leave,” Jack stated, concentrating on the here and now. “You’re the only person I halfway know in this town.”
He might be solely focused on his business goals, but that didn’t mean he wanted to purposely embarrass her, either. Even though he’d been raised by a single father driven by money and a career, Jack still had loving nannies who’d taught him manners, morals and how to respect women.
“I’m sure my parents will remember you.” She tipped her head and pursed her lips just enough to draw his attention to her unpainted mouth. “I’m not sure you’d recall them, though. Will and Sarah Spencer. Dad rarely leaves the farm, but I know my mother came over and brought food and canned goods.”
Jack tried to recollect, but those summers were a blur. He did remember a few times going over to the farm next door and the girls always being around. But mostly when Jack thought back to that time, all he remembered was being happy and content and...loved. His grandfather always tried to get his work done while entertaining a growing, curious boy who knew absolutely nothing about farming. Jack wouldn’t remember a thing he’d been taught, so by the time the next summer visit rolled around, he’d have to learn all over again.
Being back now, well...he hadn’t expected such a punch of nostalgia. He didn’t think the place would have so much feeling, especially with his grandfather not here. Jack had been so conflicted with emotions and guilt when his grandfather passed, he’d not come back for the funeral. He hadn’t seen his grandfather in so long because Jack had let his life get in the way, he’d felt like he didn’t deserve to mourn with all those from the town who loved him.
But now he was back, and everywhere he looked, Jack saw the man who’d helped shape his life. From the fence by the barn Jack helped his grandfather nail into place, to the old porch swing where they’d share a cold glass of lemonade after a hard day’s work.
He’d known many hard days in the real estate grind. And he didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t get that promotion. Out of all the deals he’d had in his career, this was the biggest. His next move up the ladder hinged on this one sale and how much he’d get from the property...the property his grandfather had willed to him, completely bypassing Jack’s father.
There was no plan B if he didn’t sell this for top dollar. It was time he had his own office with his own staff and his own way of running the family real estate company.
“So, why sell?” Rachel asked, pulling him from his thoughts. “Not that it’s my business, but this place is amazing.”
“For some,” he agreed. “But my home is in San Francisco.”
“City boy.”
“Through and through,” he confirmed.
She snickered. “The shoes and the car were dead giveaways.”
He wasn’t sure if that was a dig or merely an observation. He’d worked hard for his things. That didn’t mean he wasn’t thankful, but he wouldn’t be sorry. Maybe sometimes his taste leaned on the expensive side, but he had no other responsibilities other than to himself, so what was he hurting?
“What will you be asking for the farm?” she asked.
Was she interested? Or knew someone who was? “Why? You have a buyer?”
“I need a place and I’ve always loved this property.” Rachel shrugged, then adjusted her hat. “Depends on the price.”
“All cash is preferable and I’d like to have this closed within thirty days once I get it on the market,” he told her before throwing out a ballpark range. “I suppose I could wait on someone to get a loan so long as there’s no setbacks.”
Her brows rose as her shoulders fell, and the only word he could use to describe her would be defeated. Clearly she was hoping for something else, but he was here for business and that was all he knew.
“Thirty days is short,” she finally replied. “Why the rush?”
Jack slid his hands into his pockets. “I don’t really have a reason to stay here and I don’t need a farm.” No reason to keep up this property now that his grandfather was gone. Using this piece of land was the fastest, not to mention only, way to gain access to a portion of the family company, which he and Brian were neck and neck for. His father had pretty much stated this would be his best chance for success. “I’d like a quick, easy sale so I can get back to my life.”
Rachel squared her shoulders and tipped her chin as she held his gaze. “I’m sure we can work something out. I fully intend to make sure I’m the new owner of the Circle H before you leave town.”
If he thought she seemed defeated earlier, she had the look of a very determined woman now. But that grit staring back told him she didn’t have the means to make this place hers, so his time here in Rosewood Valley was about to get very interesting.
