The Rancher’s City Girl: Wells Brothers Book One Read online

  It could get a little awkward.

  “This is what you wanted,” she told her reflection in the hotel room mirror tacked to the back of the door. “Something new. He’s as new as it gets.”

  It was true. The moment she’d gotten word about the inheritance she had come into from her aunt, she’d known it was time for a change. New York City was suffocating. The long hours were giving her permanent knots in her shoulders. When she’d decided she wanted a fresh start, the first place to come to mind had been Colorado. Benton Ridge, to be exact. That was the last time she’d felt so happy and carefree. Not that Becca expected to be carefree. No, she expected quite a bit of work. But it would at least be under the wide-open skies.

  She just needed to find the right place—and figure out if she knew what she was doing. And in order to do that, she’d need a few weeks of real-life experience on a real-life ranch…with a real-life, ridiculously sexy rancher who was absolutely and totally off limits.

  She’d keep things professional with Cade. End of story.

  Becca hefted her carry-on and purse out to her little rental car. She’d put the rest of her things in New York in storage and come out with only what she thought she’d need for the flight, which meant she needed to do a little shopping.

  Forty minutes later, she walked out of the local Farm & Home with a surprisingly cute wardrobe. Jeans that had enough stretch to let her move. Shirts that would stand up to farm life—she hoped. And brand-new boots. She’d changed in the dressing room and worn one new outfit out, along with the boots. A weight had lifted from her shoulders. She was ready.

  And fifteen minutes after that, she was knocking at the front door of the Wells farmhouse.

  There was a thudding pattern of footsteps inside. “Who is it?”

  Joey, Cade’s daughter. The thin tomboy in the too-big polo shirt had intrigued Becca. Joey was a ranch girl, through and through. It didn’t take deep conversation to see that. “Joey, it’s me, Becca. The lady from before. I’m here with my things.”

  The door cracked open and a pair of green eyes just like Cade’s peered out at her. “Yeah, I guess you are.” The door opened wider. “You can come in.”

  “Thank you.” The farmhouse was quiet, and even quieter once Joey shut the door behind them. “Where’s your dad?”

  “He went to repair the fence before it rained.”

  Rain? Becca pulled out her phone and checked her weather app. “Really? There’s no rain forecasted for this afternoon.”

  “Well.” Joey stuck one hand on her hip. “My dad can tell when it’s going to rain just by looking at the sky and seeing how the cows are acting. So he’s out with some of the workers, fixing the fence before it does.”

  “All right.” Becca wasn’t about to challenge her on this—not a second time, anyway. “Do you think you could show me where I’ll be staying?” She had a sudden vision of being put up in the barn, or the stables. The set of Cade’s jaw had told her all she needed to know about his feelings when it came to her staying with them for the next month.

  “Yeah,” Joey said grudgingly. “Up here.”

  She led Becca up the stairs to the second floor. The hall ran down to a clock on the other end that wasn’t ticking. There were four doors, two by two across from one another.

  “That’s Dad’s room, down by the clock. This one’s mine.” Joey jabbed a thumb to the left at a closed door. “The bathroom is here—” The thumb went to the right. “And the guest room’s down there.”

  Right across from Cade’s bedroom. Becca took a deep breath. “Sounds good.”

  The guest room had whitewashed walls and a red quilt on the bed. A chair sat solidly in one corner, and a small dresser in the other. A narrow closet finished out the space. Becca hauled her suitcase up onto the bed. “Want to help me bring the rest of my stuff in?”

  Joey considered her from the doorway, then stuck her hands in her pockets. The oversized blue polo shirt she’d been wearing earlier was gone, and in its place was an orange T-shirt with a tear in one sleeve. “You’ve got more than this?”

  “I went shopping. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Joey made a face. “I hate shopping.” But she followed her back out to the rental car anyway.

  “It wasn’t so bad.” Becca handed her a couple of bags, and they carried her new things back up to the bedroom and started sorting things out. She’d need to do some laundry sooner or later, but some stuff could go straight into the dresser. “So, you hate shopping. What do you like to do? Spill the details.”

  Joey’s frown softened, and Becca cheered silently. Sure, Joey could sulk if she wanted to. She had every right to be mad about having to move. But Becca wasn’t going to give up on her for that. “I like to ride horses,” Joey offered.

  “Me too,” Becca said casually. She sensed that too big a reaction might drive Joey away, and she didn’t want that between them for the whole month she’d be living here. “Back when I was a kid, I stayed at the Benton Ranch for summer camp. I really fell in love with it.”

  Now a real smile took over Joey’s face. “The Benton Ranch is just over the ridge from here. I know all about that place.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really want to move away. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to give our house to somebody else.”

  “I totally understand that.” Becca looked Joey in the eye. “But if I do buy your ranch, I promise to take really good care of it.”

  “So you haven’t really made up your mind yet?” Joey’s eyebrows rose, her expression light and hopeful.

  “Not yet. But I do like the looks of this place.”

  “Well, yeah,” said Joey. “It’s the best ranch in the world. We—” Joey glanced out of the window. “Oh, I’ve got to get downstairs.”

  “For what?”

  “Gotta cook dinner.”

  Becca abandoned the clothes on the bed and followed Joey down to the kitchen. “Do you do all the cooking?” She watched as the girl scrubbed up, tied on a huge apron, and pulled pots and pans out of the cupboards with practiced movements. “How old are you?”

  Joey shot her a strange look. “I’m ten,” she said. “And yeah, I do some cooking.”

  A little burst of anger went off like a firework in Becca’s mind. A ten-year-old girl should not be left to do the cooking. What else was Cade having her do? She put her fingertips to her lips. Best to tread carefully. This wasn’t her home, after all, or her daughter. “Do you clean, too?”

  Joey shook her head and peered into another cupboard, then took out two boxes of noodles. “I’m only doing it now because Jayne’s on vacation.”

  “Who’s Jayne?”

  “The housekeeper. She’s got a few days off, so I’m doing this right now.”

  “Can I help?”

  Joey narrowed her eyes. “Can you cook?”

  “I—” Honestly, Becca couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked a full meal. Hours were long at the consulting firm. Very long. Takeout had been the name of the game. “I can, but I’m not very good at it, I have to admit.”

  “Then don’t help.” Joey cracked a smile, and Becca laughed.

  “There has to be something I can do.”

  “Can you boil water?”

  “Yes. I’m confident about that.” Becca ran water into a pot and Joey got ground beef cooking in a pan. “Who taught you to cook?”

  Joey shrugged. “Jayne, I guess. My mom’s been gone since I was a baby.” Becca didn’t miss the glance Joey stole at her out of the corner of her eye.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Becca started the stove under the full pot of water.

  “It’s okay,” Joey said, pulling a spatula from a drawer near the stove. “What about you? Who taught you not to cook?”

  It was another good one, and Becca snorted. “Well, my parents have been gone a long time, so I never really learned from them. My aunt taught me a few things.” Her throat tightened at the memory of her aunt. They’d been…less close once Becca had
moved to New York. That damn demanding, all-consuming job. “But my talents are mainly in ordering in.”

  She drew Joey into a conversation about talents, which carried on while Joey finished the goulash. She mixed it all together in a giant serving bowl. “Wow,” said Becca. “This is a lot of food. How come—”

  At that moment, the kitchen door banged open and Cade Wells came in, hair wet from the rain, eyes settling on hers like a sunburn. “You’re here,” he said.

  “Welcome home,” Becca said, and Cade moved into the kitchen.

  He wasn’t alone. He’d come along with five ranch hands, all of them talking, all of them rowdy—all of them shocked to see Becca standing there with Joey. “Hey there!” said one of them—tall, reddish hair, big smile. “Are you the new temporary Jayne?”

  “No,” Cade said. “This is Becca. She’s thinking about buying the ranch.”

  “Oh, are you,” said the man, sticking out his hand to shake. “Danny. Cade’s foreman. I’m sure he told you all about me.”

  “He’s been pretty tight-lipped,” Becca said, her heart rattling in her chest. God, all Cade had done was look at her. “But I’m sure I’m about to hear more.”

  “Goulash is still hot,” Joey said. “I don’t want mine to get cold.”

  “You heard the lady,” Danny said to the other men, and they all trooped through to the dining room. So that was why dinner had been so enormous.

  When they were all gathered around the table serving up the goulash—Joey had also put a tray of rolls into the oven, and they came out piping hot—Becca looked around at the men.

  “You look surprised.” Danny lifted a forkful of goulash to his mouth. “Were you expecting a quiet evening?” He had a cheerful glint in his eye.

  “I didn’t know you all ate together,” she said. “Do you always?”

  “Part of our benefits,” Danny said. “And we stay in the bunkhouse as part of that, too.” The bunkhouse. She’d seen a low building on the tour of the ranch, but hadn’t asked about it. “If you keep us on, we’ll want similar terms.” All right, good. So they would stay on if she bought the ranch—she just had to make sure she had the contracts in order. “Cade, is Jayne staying on when you move out?”

  Cade didn’t meet Becca’s eyes. “You’d have to ask Jayne about that.”

  “Well, Becca can’t cook,” piped up Joey. “So if everybody wants to keep eating, Jayne will have to stay on.”

  This was met with a chorus of laughter and grumbles that loosened the tight knot in Becca’s shoulders. Running the ranch was a puzzle, and she was good at puzzles. These men, she could see, would give her a friendly hard time, but they’d help her, too. “That’s true,” she admitted. “What do you think, Cade? Is it better to learn to cook or hire it out?”

  “Hire it out.” He didn’t have anything more to say after that, the silence dragging on.

  Danny jumped headfirst into it. “So, Becca. Do you have a lot of experience running ranches?”

  “None at all,” she said, and they laughed again. She joined in. “But I’ve been doing some research, and I have some ideas for how it could be…enhanced, I suppose. With some of the new technologies that are out.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Danny seemed genuinely interested. “What kinds of things do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you keep track of the cattle now, Cade?”

  He took a beat to respond. “Memory, mostly. And notes in a binder.”

  “You have a better system than that?” Danny grinned. “I can’t see how you could.”

  “I might,” she said coyly. And then she told Danny all about the RFID tags she’d read about. How tagging the cattle could give ranchers and ranch hands real-time information about what each cow was doing via an app. “So you’d end up with a lot more information. It might not pay off the very first year, but as you learned more and more—”

  Danny slapped a hand down on the table. “See, Cade? That’s exactly what I was telling you about. This very thing. I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a good idea.”

  Cade was already shaking his head. “It might be a good idea for big ag corps, but not for small operations like ours. Cost would far outweigh the benefits.”

  “How do you know?” Becca snapped the question across the table like a rubber band. “From everything I’ve read, it’ll help you control your costs and earn itself out within two or three years. You’ll be able to zero in on what each cow needs in terms of health and feeding and nip problems in the bud before they spread to the herd. How can you argue with that?”

  “’Cause I’m still the one who owns this ranch, and I’m the one who’s worked here all my life. This isn’t some summer camp project for me.”

  Becca felt like all the air in the room had been frozen, and it was cold going into her lungs. She couldn’t find the breath to reply, but Danny stepped in for her. He put a hand on Cade’s shoulder. “I don’t know what a summer camp project is, but I think you should zip your lips. Or at least eat some more. You’re acting like you’re hungry.”

  “I don’t mean to overstep,” she said. “But if there’s anything I know, it’s that there’s always room for improvement just about any place you look.”

  “Yeah,” said Joey. “Like, you could learn to cook.”

  Everybody at the table roared with laughter, and Joey sat back in her seat, cheeks pink and a grin on her face. When the laughter settled, Becca nudged her with an elbow. “That was a good one.”

  “I’ll teach you to cook, if you want.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “But not tonight,” Joey said. “I’m done cooking for the night.”

  “Got it.” Becca winked at Joey. “Tomorrow’s a brand-new day.”

  And thank goodness it was, because she needed a fresh start now more than ever.

  3

  Cade was up before the sun, like he always was. Only today was different. Today, he was finally going to get a tiny bit of pleasure out of this whole ordeal.

  He was going to wake up the city lady early.

  He’d already showered and dressed and sat around for as long as he could, hoping Becca would wake up. Now he itched to get started with the day. There was no point in dilly dallying just because she was still across the hall, sleeping the day away like some city-dwelling layabout.

  It was time for her to get an idea of what working on the ranch was really like. If she was going to buy the place, she had to know. Fine: it was earlier than he normally got up. About an hour earlier. Before the roosters started crowing. But she’d need at least an hour to get herself ready, he betted. And he hadn’t wanted to miss this.

  He marched across the hall and flicked on the lamp on her bedside table.

  Becca was sleeping deeply, her lips slightly parted, and her dark hair spread out on the pillow behind her. His heart crashed into his rib cage like a cymbal. Cade was seized with the urge to ease the red quilt from her fist and slip beneath it with her. She might be tall, but he could almost feel how neatly she would fit against him.

  He shook his head. Hard. This was essentially a business transaction. She was only interested in buying the ranch, and him getting ridiculous feelings wasn’t going to help either of them.

  “Becca.”

  She didn’t so much as stir.

  “Becca. It’s time to get up.” He reached a tentative hand down to her shoulder and let it hover there for a breath. She’s not going to shock you any more than she already has, he told himself. He pressed his palm to her bare skin and gave it a little rub. “Wake up.”

  She rolled and stretched, her eyelids fluttering open and squeezing shut against the light. “What time is it?”

  “Time to get to work.”

  Becca pressed one of her cheeks against the pillow and pulled the quilt up tighter. “Are you sure? It seems really early.”

  “We get to work early here, not like in the city. Get up and get ready. I’ll be in the kitchen, making breakfa
st.”

  “Okay.”

  He walked out of the room. Was that her feet hitting the floor already? He picked up the pace on the way downstairs. Then the water began rushing through the walls of the house. Good—she was taking a shower. When she showed up two hours from now, he’d get to tell her exactly how things worked on the ranch.

  Four slices of toast popped up from the toaster five minutes later, and he caught them in his fingertips and stacked them on the plate. “Oh, wow.” The voice from behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Are you buttering my toast for me, too?”

  “I—” I thought you’d still be in the bathroom, making yourself pretty. He turned his head to look at her, and all the breath went out of his lungs in a whoosh. Becca stood casually in the doorway to the kitchen, her hands hooked into the waistband of a pair of jeans. How could she be more beautiful in that long-sleeved work shirt than she was in the blouse from yesterday? Oh, he’d made a mistake letting her live here. She’d be a mighty distraction. “Unless you want to butter it. But I heard you’re not very good in the kitchen.”

  She snapped her fingers and pointed at him, and the motion might as well have lit a flame at the pit of his gut. “I’ll let you handle that.”

  “Good.”

  “Is there toast?” Joey came in from outside, wearing a gray hoodie that had been washed at least a hundred times and looked like it. “I’m hungry. Hi, Becca.”

  Becca waved from where she stood.

  “Better than toast. Scrambled egg sandwich.”

  “Yess.”

  He handed off the sandwich wrapped in a paper towel, along with the paper bag containing Joey’s lunch. Becca’s eyes lingered on the both of them. “Here’s your lunch, too. You headed out?”