LITMIR.BIZ

      When Rosemary reached the ranch that evening, she tried for an upbeat air, knowing Wes, her ranch manager, and Sara Beth, his wife and longtime housekeeper for her father, would be waiting.

      And she should be upbeat, she told herself. After all, Barton had agreed to her proposal.

      But the man was coming with them, she reminded herself. She didn’t look forward to having Jason Barton on the cattle drive. He made her…uncomfortable, and she’d need all her wits about her on the roundup.

      “What did he say?” Sara Beth asked as soon as Rosemary came through the door.

      Wes was standing there staring at her. She tried to smile, but she wasn’t very successful.

      “He—he agreed to my proposal.”

      “So why aren’t you happy?” Wes asked.

      “He insisted that he and his ranch manager come with us.”

      “That’s not an unreasonable request, Rosie.”

      “I know, but—but he makes me nervous. And he accused me of trying to cheat him!”

      “That’s only because he doesn’t know you, honey,” Sara Beth said, putting an arm around her. Sara Beth had been the closest thing to a mother for Rosemary since Linda Wilson had died ten years ago when Rosemary was fifteen. “He seemed real nice when he was here looking at the ranch. And he’s so handsome!”

      “I guess.” Rosemary had no intention of raving about Jason Barton’s appearance, even though the man was tall, broad-shouldered, with perfectly styled brown hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He was gorgeous, actually, and wealthy. But that didn’t make him right. She was determined not to let his looks sway her, in spite of the unfamiliar feelings he aroused in her.

      “So when did you tell him we’d start?” Wes asked.

      “Three days from now. He’s going to provide his own mounts and I told him not to be late. We’re not waiting for him!”

      “Now, Rosie, he’s doing us a favor. Let’s not make him an enemy.” Wes turned to his wife. “Is dinner ready? I’ve got a lot of work to do for us to be ready by Monday.”

      “Yes. I’ll just put it on the table. Are you ready to eat, Rosie?”

      “Yes, I’ll go change and then be back down.” She ran upstairs, eager to put on comfortable clothes. Back in Cheyenne, she’d had to dress well as a publicist, but she no longer had that job. Now she was a ranch owner, she needed to feel the part. In her well-worn jeans and boots, she was able to think like a rancher. At least, that was what she believed, and now more than ever she had to give herself every advantage, real or imagined.

      Over dinner, she and Wes discussed what they needed to do before the roundup began. Sara Beth added her opinion. She was not only an experienced cook, but she had occasionally gone on short cattle drives when she was younger.

      Rosemary jotted lists, which was how she normally organized large projects at work. By the time Sara Beth finished the dishes, they had everything organized.

      At least Rosemary hoped so. The roundup was too important. If she couldn’t pull it off, she’d lose the only home she’d ever known. And she would know she’d failed her mother. Linda Wilson would’ve expected her to keep the ranch in the family. The Bar G was named after her mother’s family, the Gables. They were long on hard work but short on sons to carry on the ranching tradition. That left it up to Rosemary.

      As for her father, she wasn’t sure she knew what he would’ve wanted. After all, he’d sold the ranch.

      She asked herself over and over why her father hadn’t at least discussed such a big decision with her. She’d come home for the weekend only a couple of weeks before his fatal heart attack.

      They’d spent some time together on horseback and talked about her mother. It had been a special weekend. She’d remembered reiterating her promise to come home if he needed her. He’d looked a little tired, but she hadn’t thought much about it, as ranching wasn’t an easy life.

      But it was a life she loved. She’d only gone to Cheyenne in the first place because her father had told her she needed to use her degree for at least a couple of years. She’d enjoyed her job and had learned a lot in Cheyenne. But her heart was here, on the ranch.

      The memories of her mother and the times they’d shared had happened on the ranch. Her mother had taught her to cook, of course. But they’d also ridden together, though her mother had left the running of the Bar G to Robert, Rosie’s father.

      Then, after her mother’s death, which had been devastating for a young teenager, she’d turned to her father, and had trailed after him all over the ranch. Though he’d always been disappointed

Скачать книгу