Alabama Is For Cowboys

A dude ranch is John Cutter’s lifelong dream, but it’s one that the banks won’t fund. So when a big-city businesswoman invests in the project—and stays to make the ranch a reality—John is thrilled. Despite her fancy clothes, Dana Brooks is the opposite of the gal who broke John’s heart by leaving the country for the city. Dana’s hard work, appreciation for the land and kindness to his family soon has John thinking about forever. But when he discovers her shocking secret, will John lose everything—or risk it all to believe in love?

“Don’t worry, I won’t be putting you in one of the fishing shacks,” John assured Dana.

“I told you about the fishing camp’s grand opening tomorrow,” he continued. “This is where we’ll house our guests, right by the pond. I’m living here, so they’ll always have someone handy if they need anything.”

She twisted in the rocker, eyed the pond and the row of cabins. “This is really lovely.”

Her compliment was sincere, and he immediately felt a sense of pride in the Cutters’ first tourist venture. Hopefully the dude ranch would also hit the mark. “Thanks. Reservations are already coming in.”

“Well, your business plan for the dude ranch was impressive. I’m sure the one you did for the fishing camp was equally impressive.”

Even in her tousled state, Dana Brooks exuded elegance, yet John found her oddly easy to talk to. He hadn’t ever held much interest in “city girls.” But right now, ultimate city girl Dana Brooks had his attention, that was for sure.

RENEE ANDREWS

spends a lot of time in the gym. No, she isn’t working out. Her husband, a former all-American gymnast, co-owns ACE Cheer Company, an all-star cheerleading company. She is thankful the talented kids at the gym don’t have a problem when she brings her laptop and writes while they sweat. When she isn’t writing, she’s typically traveling with her husband, bragging about their two sons or spoiling their bulldog.

Renee is a kidney donor and actively supports organ donation. She welcomes prayer requests and loves to hear from readers. Write to her at Renee@ReneeAndrews.com, visit her website at www.reneeandrews.com or check her out on Facebook or Twitter.

Heart of a Rancher

Renee Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.

—Ruth 1:16

This novel is dedicated to my niece,

Blaire Catherine Brown,

my inspiration for John’s niece, Abi.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

“So, when is the city girl going to make an appearance?” Landon Cutter finished cleaning the stalls while John hauled another fifty-pound bag of sweet feed into the barn.

John’s phone beeped before he had a chance to answer his brother. He stacked the bag on top of the others he’d already hauled in, then fished the cell from his pocket and read the text. “How about that, her plane just landed.” He glanced down at his sweat-soaked shirt, work jeans and boots. “Man, I’ve got to take a shower before she gets here.”

“You’ve got plenty of time. It’ll take her a good hour or so to make it to Claremont from Birmingham. Plus, from what I hear, it takes a while to get luggage at the airport.”

John wasn’t certain Landon was all that keen on his bringing in someone as prominent as Dana Brooks to their farm. Landon figured she wouldn’t grasp the concept and appeal of down-home Southern pride. The Brooks family of Chicago rivaled the Trumps in money and influence, so John had also been surprised that the late Lawrence Brooks’s daughter had seen merit in his business plan. In fact, John had sensed an undeniable appreciation in her texts and conversations. And if anyone could sell his dude ranch idea, it was Dana Brooks.

“She didn’t fly into Birmingham. Her plane landed at the local airstrip in Stockville.” John removed his work gloves, slapped them together and tossed them on a shelf in the tack room. “They’ve got a private jet. She should be here in half an hour.”

Landon whistled. “A private jet. Isn’t that something? And she’s coming here to help you start a dude ranch in North Alabama?”

“Reckon I must have won her over with my unique idea and Southern charm.” John’s smile was instant, but he fought to maintain his confidence about the classy lady hopping on a plane to see the ranch firsthand. And she planned to stay for a month, until they got the place up and running. How would he entertain a Chicago socialite on a ranch for four weeks? “I’m going down to the fishing shack to clean up before she gets here.”

“Fishing cabin,” Landon corrected. “And you’d better get used to calling them cabins, or Georgiana is liable to have your hide.”

“Right, my fishing cabin.” John didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the term. Landon’s wife, Georgiana, had the idea to turn the old fishing shacks on their property into something more habitable that would appeal to those interested in an outdoor getaway to fish and relax. Cutter’s Fish Camp had only been open a couple of weeks but was doing great, with regular weekend reservations for five out of six cabins. John was thrilled with the early success, but he still wanted to succeed with his own business plan, the one the bank had so quickly turned down. However, business magnate Dana Brooks had faith in his dude ranch idea...and in John.

He saddled his horse, Red, and started across the fields toward the stocked pond and the fishing shacks—correction—cabins. When Landon married Georgiana, John insisted that the two of them, along with Georgiana’s seven-year-old daughter, Abi, live in the Cutter family home, a two-story log cabin at the center of the property. He, on the other hand, would live in one of the fishing shacks and therefore be nearby whenever a fishing camp guest needed anything. He liked the rustic, compact cabin and the seclusion the place provided from the outside world. True, guests surrounded him when the cabins were rented, but the majority of the time they kept to themselves and he had the perfect place to meditate on God and study for his business degree.

The cabins were multicolored, Georgiana’s idea to paint them similar to Charleston’s Rainbow Row. Being blind, Georgiana often discussed the appeal of color and how she remembered hues from before she lost her sight. Consequently, the cabins were painted with the favorite colors from her memories. John hoped the look would appeal to the city girl, Dana Brooks. His cabin was sage-green and the smallest of the lot. He’d stuck a couple of rockers in the front, and Abi had helped him put blooming plants in big pots on each cabin’s porch, including his own. Riding closer, he took in the colorful cabins, the sky turning turquoise in the early afternoon, the green mountains, the brown water from the pond. The place looked like a postcard or an ad for the newest dude ranch, the only dude ranch, in Alabama.

Maybe the scene would impress Dana Brooks.

He dismounted, and Red moved to graze near the cabin, then John glanced toward the edge of the property, toward the dirt road entrance, and noticed a gaping hole in the fencing. Undoubtedly his oldest and most ornery cow, Gypsy, had once again decided to play nomad. She’d been escaping since she was a calf, hence her name; now at nearly sixteen, Gypsy was already a year past the age Charolais cattle typically lived, and she still managed to escape. But nowadays she often got confused, wandering out, then wandering right back in. John scanned the field, but didn’t spot Gypsy. He had no idea whether she was out or in, but either way, he had to fix that fence before he lost more livestock. You couldn’t very well have a dude ranch without horses and cattle.

John withdrew his cell and noted the time on the display. 4:00 p.m. Ms. Brooks would be getting a rental car in Stockville. Maybe that’d take enough time for him to repair the fence and clean up before she arrived.

God, help her like this place, and help me make a good first impression.

* * *

Dana stepped onto the tarmac while her copilot, Ned, unloaded her bags. She’d only needed Mark, her pilot, and Ned for the trip, so Ned had assumed the duty of assisting her while Mark got everything in order for their flight back to Chicago.

She’d requested a vehicle that would blend with farm country, some type of SUV, and the sole Stockville car rental agency had delivered nicely. A tall, thin man in a black T-shirt and blue jeans stood beside a white Cadillac Escalade parked nearby. Definitely not standard car-rental-agent attire, but he did have a name tag stating that he was Jesse Burger with Stockville Car Rental.

“Ms. Brooks.” He moved quickly toward her with a way-too-broad smile in place. She wished people wouldn’t get so nervous around her, but that was part of being the late Lawrence Brooks’s daughter that she couldn’t change.

The late Lawrence Brooks. Dana frowned, still having a difficult time getting used to the fact that her father was gone.

“I’m Jesse Burger.” The friendly man grabbed her outstretched hand and pumped it vigorously.

“Nice to meet you, Jesse.” She pushed her sadness aside and managed a smile for the friendly man.

“Welcome to Alabama. I hope you like your vehicle. We don’t typically keep this type of SUV at the agency in Stockville, but we brought this one in from Birmingham just for you. I reckon you’ll enjoy the ride. It’s really sweet.”

Reckon? Sweet? She was charmed by the accent and by the local flavor in his speech. It reminded her of the thick drawl she’d heard on the other end of the line the few times she’d spoken to John Cutter. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“I’ll admit I kind of volunteered to go pick it up so I could drive it. I’ve never been in a Cadillac. Talk about a smooth ride. And it sits high on the road, almost as high as my dually.” He motioned toward an oversize red pickup truck with two full doors and humongous tires, similar to those she’d seen in advertisements when the monster trucks were at the Sears Centre Arena in Chicago. Naturally, she’d never seen one of the big trucks up close. She was more of an opera and ballet kind of girl, but she couldn’t deny that she found the oversize truck interesting. However, anxious to get to the Cutter ranch, she wouldn’t take time for a perusal now.

“I went ahead and programmed that address where you said you were headed into the GPS. It’s got all the roads already highlighted for you and ready to go. But really, you just take the main road from Stockville to Claremont. It’s called Old Claremont Road if you’re headed from here to there. If you’re coming the other direction, it’s Old Stockville Road.”

“Seriously?” She’d never heard of anything so bizarre.

“Sure. Wouldn’t make sense to give credit to only one of the towns.” He grinned big.

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.” This trip was definitely going to be interesting. A road with two names, depending on which way you were driving. Her brother would never believe it.

“And that farm you’re looking for is about dead center halfway. Shouldn’t take you more than twenty minutes from here, I’d guess. Maybe fifteen, even.”

“Thank you.” She eyed the SUV. “I’ve never been in anything like this, but I’m looking forward to it.” She had a Prius and a BMW in the garage, but hardly ever went anywhere on her own. She’d wanted the environmentally friendly Prius but also hadn’t been able to resist the cute little red Z4. But even though she had the two vehicles, a driver typically took her wherever she wanted to go in Chicago. Driving amid paparazzi had never been appealing, and they crowded her car so terribly when she went to town that she’d practically forgone the fun of driving. She was rather excited about the Escalade, and about the fact that the paparazzi hadn’t followed her on this venture. No sign of a camera anywhere.

Ned put the last of her bags in the back of the SUV. “Ms. Brooks, will you need anything else before we return home?”

“No, Ned. And I’ll keep you posted on when I plan to return. Should be four weeks or so.” She was determined to show her brother, Ryan, that she could help “young dreamers,” as he called them, to make it in business. Their father had once been a young dreamer, and he’d regretted not helping others do the same before he died. Dana was doing this for him...and for herself. She wanted to do the right thing, wanted to help others, even if she had virtually no experience yet.

Her father’s repeated words over the last few weeks of his life echoed through her thoughts.

“I was selfish. I forgot God, forgot myself. Only cared about the money. More money. More power.” Tears had slid down his weathered cheeks and pierced Dana’s heart. It’d been the first time she’d ever seen him cry. “Don’t end up like me, Dana.”

She’d vowed to him that she would follow his wishes. Now if she could get Ryan to understand that their father did have a change of heart before he died, that he really did encourage her to use funds from Brooks International to help rags-to-riches hopefuls.

Her cell phone rang, and her brother’s name displayed, as if he were reading her very thoughts. She answered and put the phone on speaker while she climbed in the comfy SUV. “Hey, Ryan, give me a moment. I’m getting in my vehicle.”

“Sure thing.”

“There’s heated seats.” Jesse pointed inside the car. “Just push that button right there. But be careful, I tried ’em, and they get mighty hot mighty quick.” He slapped the back of his jeans with a grin. “And all your payments and paperwork and everything were all taken care of. I guess you knew that. There’s a copy of everything in your glove box. Oh, hang on, nearly forgot.” He pulled a paper out of his back pocket. “I do need your signature on the contract showing the vehicle is okay and for the insurance and all.”

“Thanks, Jesse.” She signed the paper and closed the door.

“Heated seats.” Ryan couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Wow.”

“He’s a very sweet man.” Dana watched Jesse Burger head toward his monster truck. “Very down-to-earth.”

“I’ll say. So, you already growing accustomed to Nowhere, Alabama?”

“I’m still at the airport, if you can call it that. I wouldn’t say I’m accustomed yet, but it looks nice.” She took in her surroundings, mountains in the distance, trees and fields all around. The airport was more of a runway in the middle of a pasture.

Jesse waved before climbing in his big truck, and Dana waved back.

“Nice. Right. Well, while you’re hanging out with the farmers, I’ll keep running the business in the real world.” He paused, and she knew what was coming before he started. “Honestly, Dana, this is not what Dad wanted. Think of all the medications he was taking when he talked to you those last days. That wasn’t our father. Do you seriously think he’d want you to turn your back on Brooks International? He built this company from the ground up, and he expected us to run it after he was gone. This business was his life.”

“Exactly.” Those were her father’s precise words, in fact. “And he wanted more. He wanted to do more, help more, specifically help others more.”

“Listen, I haven’t got time to argue with you about it now. I’ve got a meeting with marketing in five minutes.” He huffed out an exasperated breath. “I could use you here, Dana. That’s your expertise, not mine.”

“You said you had no problem with my giving this a try. And it is what Dad wanted, whether you believe it or not.”

He ignored the last part of her statement. “For one month max. You promised me that.”

“Right.” She wished she hadn’t agreed to a time limit on her act of goodwill. What if it took longer than a month to get a dude ranch up and running in North Alabama? Her dad had wanted to help others, and John Cutter had impressed her immensely on the college entrepreneurial forum she’d joined online. Plus, she’d been drawn to the country drawl, the enthusiasm for his business plan and the optimism that radiated from the Alabama rancher. In fact, she couldn’t wait to meet the guy. “I’ve got to go, Ryan. I’ll call you in the morning and let you know how things are going.”

“Fine,” he muttered before disconnecting.

Starting the SUV, Dana glanced at the GPS and began her drive to the farm, thinking about the cowboy with the delicious Southern drawl. Did he look as good as he sounded on the phone? She’d searched the internet for John Cutter, of course, but there was no sign of a Facebook page or anything else with a photo on it. No, she couldn’t see herself with a country boy long-term, but John Cutter did have something. His texts were witty, their conversations interesting, and she found herself a little nervous about meeting the Alabama rancher. Dana couldn’t remember the last time she’d been nervous about, well, anything.

Her suitcases bumped against each other when she turned out of the airport, and she wondered if she’d even brought the right clothing for this trip. She had an entire suitcase for shoes. Right now she wore typical travelwear, a navy-and-white jacquard cardigan over a matching shell, a navy gabardine skirt and high-heel pumps. Granted, she wanted to impress him with her business panache, but she also had to admit that she had no idea about appropriate ranchwear. She planned to head out shopping as soon as she got the right attire in mind, because while she did want him to see her as a businesswoman, she also wanted him to see her as approachable. Maybe even very approachable. She’d heard Southern men were gentlemen and treated ladies “right.”

Every guy she dated in Chicago seemed to be after the Brooks name and money. John Cutter didn’t come across that way. He came across as black and white, honest to a fault, particularly when he told her all the reasons the bank gave for turning down his business plan. No genuine investor would ever fund a dude ranch in the middle of who-knows-where, Alabama.

But she would.

The GPS showed she was eighteen minutes from her destination, twenty-five minutes with traffic. An empty road stretched ahead, fields along both sides, mountains in the distance. Not a single car to be seen. “Eighteen minutes it is.”

Eager to begin this journey—and meet John Cutter—Dana pressed her foot on the gas and increased her speed. She was surprised at how much she looked forward to meeting the cowboy with the big dreams and the strong faith. He’d mentioned God and family in nearly every phone call. Her father had finally found faith near the end. Dana didn’t plan to wait that long, and she suspected that John Cutter might be the right person to show her...

Her thoughts were cut short when she rounded the curve and came face-to-face with two dark eyes in a white hairy face. Slamming on the brakes, she attempted to turn the wheel, but the next thing she knew the cow had dropped, and smoke billowed from under the hood.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Dana jumped out of the Escalade and surveyed the damage. Front end bashed in, and big white cow, motionless on the ground. “Oh, what have I done!” She ran back to the driver’s seat and grabbed her purse, yanked out her cell and, with hands trembling, dialed Ryan.

No signal flashed back from the display.

She’d never in her life been unable to get a cell signal. “No way, no way.” Trees surrounded the road and stretched as far as she could see in both directions. She’d been in the curvy stretch of road for quite some time and couldn’t remember seeing any houses. How long had she been driving? Surely she wasn’t that far from the Cutter farm. “Okay, Brooks, you can do this.” Sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, she began the walk ahead while trying her very best not to take another look at the large, white, undeniably dead animal in the middle of the road. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she passed. For all she knew, she’d killed someone’s pet.

She peered ahead, didn’t spot any sign of civilization and realized she’d never felt so alone. “God, please, help me get there safely.” Prayer still felt a little foreign on her lips, but she planned to work on that, starting now. She’d killed a cow and had virtually no idea where she was.

Definitely a time for higher guidance.

The walk started easily, and she was glad her Christian Louboutin pumps were so comfortable. However, the “paved” road was pitifully surfaced, and by the time she’d gone fifteen minutes, even the Louboutins were feeling a bit defeated. She was certain some of those pointed rocks had pushed through her soles. A trickle of perspiration edged down her spine, as well as along her forehead. She unbuttoned the cardigan and thought about taking it off, then she noticed that she actually had a sweat line on her shell. Sure, she liked to sweat in a gym with her personal trainer, but she didn’t want to be drenched the first time she met John Cutter.

“Hit a cow, wreck a truck and walk a mile. Welcome to Alabama,” she said, finally spotting a break in the trees ahead. In spite of her aching feet, Dana picked up her pace and hurried to the gravel side road. An oversize aluminum mailbox at the end had Sanders painted in white on the side, as did a big wooden arch that hovered over the apparent driveway. She looked down the length of the gravel and couldn’t spot the end. There was a farm down there, no doubt, but it wasn’t close. And it didn’t belong to John Cutter.

Walk the driveway and hope to find help, or keep going and find the Cutter farm? Assuming one farm probably led to another, she kept walking. Ten minutes later she saw the next opening in the trees, this one with a dirt road and the name Cutter on the equally large silver mailbox, as well as burned into the wooden arch that showcased the driveway. A new sign had been added under the center of the arch that read Cutter’s Fish Camp—Guests Welcome.

He had told her about the business venture that the bank had approved, and Dana looked forward to seeing a “fish camp” in action. But right now she mainly looked forward to finding the house, briefly meeting the cowboy—she didn’t want to spend too much time with him before she had a nice, long shower—and getting to her hotel so she could freshen up. Oh, and letting someone know she’d left a dead SUV and a dead cow in the road on the way to the farm.

That probably wasn’t the best form of an introduction. But, unfortunately, that’s all she had.

She started down the driveway but didn’t make it far before she heard a loud pounding and a lot of grunting. Slowing her steps, she approached the cowboy apparently stretching wire across the fence. A black Stetson covered the top of his face, and sweat visibly dripped from his chin to the ground as he worked. He was, in a word, quite beautiful.

Dana’s throat grew dry. He wore a navy T-shirt that showcased broad shoulders, notable biceps and abs that would impress any personal trainer. His jeans had that well-worn look, displaying his long legs. At least six feet tall, possibly six-one or six-two. She certainly never saw guys who looked like that in Chicago. And if this was a hired hand, she had to wonder what the ranch owner looked like. She cautiously stepped toward the working cowboy, and when he only grunted and pulled the wire some more, she took a few more steps closer and cleared her throat.

He stopped midgrunt, looked up and treated her to the most exquisite pair of amber eyes she’d ever seen. Almost gold, and squinting in the late-afternoon sun.

He grinned, straight white teeth amid a perfectly tanned face. Goodness, she should’ve found a reason to visit Alabama years ago.

“Kind of overdressed there, aren’t ya?”

She thought she recognized the voice, but she wasn’t certain. Did all guys down here sound that way? Or was this the rancher she’d been talking to for weeks? Only one way to find out. “I’m looking for John Cutter.”

His grin broadened, the two deep dimples creasing his cheeks somehow managing to make him look even better. “Well, Ms. Brooks, you’ve found him.”

Dana’s pulse quickened. Have mercy, his looks matched the voice. John Cutter was real, genuine, honest and gorgeous.

He lifted a brow, peered past her down the road then quirked his mouth to the side. “Where’s your car? Did you break down? Are you okay?” He took a step toward her. “Hey, I can help you out.”

Words weren’t coming, and she’d never been one to be at a loss for words. But she’d also never been this close to a cowboy who looked as if he’d stepped off the front of a romance novel, standing there all muscled and sweaty from good, honest work, with the mountains in the distance and the fields full of horses and cattle behind him. Horses and white cattle. White cattle that looked...oddly familiar.

Suddenly the words came, and she wished she had thought a moment before blurting them so clearly.

“Oh, no. I hit your cow!”

Chapter Two

With the fence taking longer than he’d expected, John figured Dana Brooks would show up before he finished, so he’d resolved himself that he’d be a sweaty mess when he met the classy lady. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that she’d be a sweaty mess, too.

The silky blond hair he’d seen in so many photos online was now a combination of flat and frizzy at the same time. Her face had a perspiration glow, and her clothing was way over the top for farm attire. She looked like she did in those online photos, except she didn’t look quite so put together. And she’d definitely had better days, because she’d just announced that she’d hit his cow. He didn’t have to wonder which cow.

Removing his gloves, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve then, glad the repair was done, stuck his pliers in his back pocket. “I’m guessing Gypsy is dead?”

“Gypsy?” Her eyes widened so much he could see white all the way around the vivid blue. “Oh, no, I killed your pet!” A hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.” Her words were muffled behind her palm. Then she looked back toward the road. “Maybe, maybe she wasn’t dead. Maybe she was just knocked out or something.” She turned back to John with a slight look of hope.

He raised a brow, quirked his lip to the side. “Exactly what were you driving?”

“An Escalade.”

He shook his head. “Probably not just knocked out.”

Another whimper, and he found himself moving toward the pretty lady who’d killed his oldest cow. “Hey, come on, I’ll get you a glass of water, and then we’ll get everything taken care of.” He opened the gate to let her in. “It’ll be okay.”

She trembled from head to toe, so he wrapped an arm around her as they moved toward his cabin, then he guided her to the nearest rocker on the porch. “Gypsy has been on her last leg for quite a while, and we were really just waiting for her time to go. She wasn’t a pet—” he lifted a shoulder “—but we tend to get to know all our cattle.”

“I am so sorry.” She looked miserable, and she kept glancing back toward the road as though she half expected Gypsy to make a miraculous recovery and show up at the gate, ready to be let in.

John was fairly certain that wouldn’t happen. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call my brother, Landon, and tell him what’s happened. We’ll get everything taken care of, and I’m gonna go get you that glass of water.” He went inside and fixed two glasses of ice water, called Landon and gave him a heads-up on the situation then walked back out to find Lightning, his hound dog, sniffing Dana’s expensive shoe. “All right, boy. She’s had a bad enough afternoon already. Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Dana asked.

Lightning, only slightly younger than Gypsy, raised a droopy eye, moved to one of the porch rails and proceeded to do his business.

John nodded toward the dog.

Dana sputtered on her water with a little laugh. “Oh, I see.”

“I’d kind of expected to welcome you to the ranch a little more appropriately.” He took a long drink of water, the cool liquid hitting his parched throat like a balm, almost as refreshing as having a stunning woman sitting on his front porch. “Don’t suppose hitting a cow and walking a mile in high heels would send you running to the hills, would it?”

Her eyes glittered above her glass and the corners of her mouth turned up as she took another sip. “As long as you don’t want to banish me to the hills for killing your cow.”

“As I said, Gypsy was probably ready to go. She may have even gone out to the road with a death wish, hoping someone would put her out of her misery.” He took another drink of water. “Her arthritis was pretty bad.”

She looked suspicious. “Are you serious?”

He grinned. “Nah, just trying to make you feel better.”

She gave him a full smile, and he noticed she was even prettier when she smiled. “Well, it worked.”

“Good.” He finished off his water, nodded toward her nearly empty glass. “Want more?”

“No, thank you.” She relaxed in the rocker and leaned her head back, her blond hair tumbling past slender shoulders.

John took in her appearance again. Even a sweaty mess, Dana Brooks made his pulse kick up a notch. She was taller than he’d imagined, merely a few inches shy of his six-two, and her eyes were bluer than the photos depicted. Her bio on the internet said she was twenty-six, two years younger than John, but she had a softness to her complexion, a tenderness to her features, that made her appear even younger. But her eyes, those inquisitive Caribbean-blue eyes, appeared wiser than her years, studying everything around her as she sat on the porch.

In fact, while he studied her, she visibly took in her surroundings—the porch, his dog, the fields, grazing livestock and the other colorful cabins lined up along the pond’s edge. Then she drew her attention back to John. “Is this where you live?”

He knew about her high-rise apartment in Chicago and how it overlooked Lake Michigan and the ritzy art district. “This is it. But don’t worry, I’m not putting you in one of the fishing shacks.” He cleared his throat. “Fishing cabins, I mean. Gotta get used to that.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean for your family to provide accommodations. I made a reservation at a hotel in town.”

“Yeah, but Georgiana, my brother’s wife, said she wouldn’t accept your staying in a tiny hotel room when you could stay out here on the farm. Plus, if you want to see the place firsthand, you might as well stay here.” He grinned, thinking about Georgiana’s insistence that their guest stay on the ranch. “There’s only one hotel in town—I’m sure you figured that out. Or if you want to get specific, there aren’t any hotels in town. We have one bed-and-breakfast, and that’s it.”

“Yes, the Claremont Bed-and-Breakfast. That’s where I made my reservation.”

“Naturally we know the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Tingle. So Georgiana gave them a call and told them you wouldn’t need a place to stay, after all.”

Her mouth opened slightly, surprise filling her expression. “She canceled my reservation?”

“Not exactly. I mean, they’re waiting for you to call and officially cancel it, but she did tell them you’d be staying on the farm.” He leaned against the porch rail.

Her hands ran up and down the length of her glass, ice cubes rattling with the movement, as she apparently accepted the way things ran in Smalltown, U.S.A. Quite the contrast from Chicago, no doubt. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

He stopped short of laughing out loud. “You’ve already killed our oldest cow—can’t get much more of a burden than that.”

Her mouth fell completely open this time, and John set his laugh free. Then, seeing her shocked expression, he sobered as best he could.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t tease you until you get to know me better. You aren’t a burden—you’re company. We tend to think a lot of our guests, and that’s what you are. And you’ll have to take it up with Georgiana if you’re planning to turn down her offer. But trust me, she’ll put up a decent fight. And I’m sure you can tackle the best of city slickers in a boardroom, but you haven’t seen anything like Georgiana Cutter when she has her mind made up.” He shrugged. “In my opinion, you should just go ahead and concede. I’m just sayin’.”

Her hands stopped fidgeting with the glass, and she laughed. “I’ll think about it.” She leaned forward and took another look at the line of fishing shacks bordering one side of the pond. “So, is this where your dude ranch guests will stay? In these cabins?”

“No, our fishing camp guests stay here, so they can be right by the pond. Makes it easier for them to start fishing at the crack of dawn, when the bream and crappie bite best. I’m living in this one, so they’ll have someone handy if they need anything. For the dude ranch, we’ll have campsites by the creek that flows by the hiking trails. I’ll show you when we tour the ranch.”

She scanned the vast pond. Cattails bordered the ends and dark green lily pads dotted the banks with an occasional white lily balancing on top, the scene peaceful and still beneath the afternoon sky. “No one’s fishing,” she said. “You don’t have any guests here now?”

“Nah, it’s barely March. Fish don’t start biting much until nearly April, so right now we only have guests on the weekends. Most of them are here more to relax than because they’re die-hard fishermen. But reservations are already picking up for next month.”

“So you have some guests coming in tomorrow, on Saturday?”

“All cabins filled but mine.”

She twisted in the rocker, eyed the pond and the colorful row of cabins. “This is really lovely.”

Her compliment was sincere, and he immediately felt a sense of pride in the Cutters’ first tourist venture. Hopefully the dude ranch would also hit the mark. “Thanks. We’re fairly excited about the rentals and reservations.”

“Well, your business plan for the dude ranch was impressive. I’m sure the one you did for the fishing camp was, too.”

John had prepared the business plan for the camp, but it was Georgiana’s brainstorm, not his. “Yeah, the bank had no problem with the fishing camp. But they had no desire to fund the dude ranch.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea, and I’m excited that Brooks International is funding the project.”

“Trust me, I’m very glad about that.” He reached for her glass, and she handed it over, her lean fingers brushing his palm in the process. It could have been John’s imagination, but it appeared her cheeks flushed a little when their hands touched.

Even in her tousled state, she exuded elegance, yet John found her oddly easy to talk to. He hadn’t ever had much interest in “city girls,” especially after MaciJo Riley left his heart in her wake when she chased after her big-city dreams. But right now, this city girl had his attention—that was for sure.

Her throat pulsed as she swallowed. “So did you call your brother?”

“I did. He’s waiting for us to head up to the main house so he and I can go check on your accident. We’ll get the rental agency to tow the Escalade and we’ll take care of Gypsy.”

She straightened in the rocker. “Take care of Gypsy?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.

Evidently she understood that she didn’t want to hear how they would go about taking care of a dead cow. She merely nodded. “And we’re going to the main house now?”

“If you’re up to it.”

She stood, looked around the front of the cabin and then toward Red, still grazing nearby. The log cabin was a good piece away, and naturally she couldn’t see it from there. Nor could she see a vehicle, he realized, since John didn’t need one at the shack.

“How are we getting to the main house?” The tiny tremor of trepidation in her tone made him fight another smile.

“I rode Red down here, but I thought we’d take the Gator back, given that your skirt isn’t exactly conducive to horse riding.” He watched Lightning take another interest in her shoes, and he gently steered the old dog in the other direction.

She didn’t notice the dog, her attention more focused on his statement. “The gator?”

John loved how she attempted to sound calm when her eyes gave her away. What, did she think he had some sort of live alligator around that they’d ride to the big house? He might live in the sticks, but he wasn’t ready to be featured on Swamp People yet. He leaned down to scratch Lightning behind the ears and checked his grin. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Then he led her behind the cabin to the small work shed he’d recently added for fishing supplies, opened the rolling door and pointed to the John Deere Gator that he and Landon used around the fields when they weren’t on horseback. “That’s my Gator, and it’s a decent ride. Probably not as fancy as your Escalade, but I can guarantee we won’t hit any cows.”

“That’s your gator.” Relief flooded through her words.

He climbed into the driver’s seat, pointed to the passenger side. “Yep. You ready to go?”

She stood still for a moment, and John wondered if she expected him to usher her in. There wasn’t a door to open; the thing was basically an oversize dune buggy. So, if she wasn’t a princess waiting for a chauffeur to open her door, why was she standing there?

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.” She blinked, took a step toward the Gator, and then he saw her dilemma—how to get in wearing that skirt. But before he could offer suggestions, she attempted to climb in ladylike and did a pretty good job. The skirt was slim and fitted, so she sat on the seat and then gracefully moved both legs into the vehicle. Then she let out a relieved sigh. “I’ve never seen one of these before.”

Impressed at her ability to adapt, John started the Gator. “They’re pretty much a standard piece of equipment for farms around here.”

She examined the bright yellow seats and the equally bright green exterior, then ran her hand across the shiny black dash. “It looks amazingly fun.”

City girl or not, she was mighty cute. “You want to drive? It’s fine with me, as long as you promise not to take out any more livestock on the way to the house.”

She didn’t mask her excitement with that prospect quickly enough, and John suspected—previous cow collision or not—she was about to hop out, round the Gator and take the wheel. But then she shook her head. “Not today, but yes, I’d like to drive it eventually.” She sounded practically giddy over driving a Gator. And to think John had wondered if he’d be able to impress the Chicago debutante. “And I promise not to hit any more cows when I do,” she added.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Grinning, he backed out of the shed. “So a future Gator drive will go on the books. I’m thinking we’ll probably ride the acreage tomorrow so I can show you what I have in mind for the round pen, the campsites, trail rides and all. We can take the Gator for that, rather than ride horses.”

“Oh, I want to ride horses, too.” She paused, looked at Red, then at the other horses meandering nearby and the multitude of Charolais cattle grazing on the hill. “I need to try everything if I’m going to tell the Brooks International board everything about the ranch. I want this to work, so they’ll agree to fund other similar projects.”

“I want this to work, too.” John noticed her slight smile and suspected she looked forward to her weeks on the farm. Again, a trickle of pride shot straight to his heart.

They passed over the fields with Dana surveying everything, her blond hair whipping wildly in the breeze. She gathered it into a makeshift ponytail and held it with one hand, while using the other to shield her eyes as she took everything in. She reminded him of Abi last fall at the county fair, absorbing all the new sights, sounds and fun. This affluent woman, a millionaire who’d already made her mark following after her father as a venture capitalist, seemed captivated by his world.

John was so busy watching her that he forgot to slow down when they approached the biggest hill in the pasture and consequently caught a bit of air. She grabbed at the dashboard before she slammed back down on the seat.

“Whoa!” Her excited laugh filled the air, and John found himself joining in.

“Sorry,” he said, slowing down and deciding to take it easy for the remainder of the journey. No need to toss her into the field on her first day at the ranch.

She’d lost her grip on her hair when they went airborne, and it whipped in front of her eyes as her laughter subsided. He watched her gather it again and pull it away from her face, and the pale pink polish on her nails shimmered in the sun and added another extremely feminine quality to the woman riding next to him.

John pulled his attention away to make certain he didn’t hit any more unexpected hills, and then he heard her gasp as the log cabin and barn came into view.

All of her attention focused on the scene. “Oh, my, it’s beautiful!”

He’d always thought so, but he was a country boy, and this was pure country. Hearing her echo his sentiments with such enthusiasm, particularly when he wanted so much to impress her with the ranch, felt good.

“That’s Abi.” His niece, her strawberry pigtails bouncing as she jumped off the porch, ran toward the approaching Gator.

“Hey, Uncle John! Is that the city lady? Are you really from a big town where the wind blows all the time? Uncle John says you’re going camping with us so you can see what it’s like, ’cause when we have a dude ranch people will camp and hike and stuff. I haven’t been camping before, but we’re gonna be in a tent and cook hot dogs and marshmallows, and you eat everything with your fingers. But it’s okay, ’cause you can lick your fingers to get the gooey stuff off when you’re done.”

John barely got the Gator turned off before Abi stood within feet of Dana. And continued asking questions.

“You sure are dressed up. Did you go to church? Today is Friday, not Sunday. Did we miss church?”

“Abi, this is Miss Dana.” John hoped his niece would stop talking long enough for the introduction, and she obliged. “And no, we didn’t miss church.”

“These are the clothes I wore to work this morning, and then on the plane.” Dana smiled at Abi, and John could see that she, like John and everyone else who met the precocious child, was smitten. “I didn’t dress right for the farm, did I?”

“Nope, you sure didn’t.” Abi’s head shook so hard her curly pigtails practically slapped her freckled cheeks. “You dressed for church. Or really, you kind of dressed for Easter or maybe Christmas, a fancy church day, not a regular church day.”

John laughed, and Dana grinned.

“I did bring a couple of outfits that might work on the farm, but I’m pretty sure I’ll need to go shopping and buy some more. Maybe you and your mommy could help me find a place to buy some farm clothes while I’m here?”

Abi’s head shake turned to a full, enthusiastic bob. “Sure we can! I like to go shopping, and Mommy does, too. And Grandma comes sometimes. We can go to the square, and we can get candy at the Sweet Stop and then go to the toy store, and maybe we can go get a double-chocolate milk shake when we finish. I’ll go tell Mommy. Are you ready to go?”

This time Dana laughed. “Well, I was thinking maybe tomorrow. I’ve kind of had a full day already today. And I do have some clothes I can wear, as soon as I get my bags from the car.”

“We’ll get those for you.” John climbed out of the Gator.

“Oh, all right, then.” Her disappointment undeniable, Abi handled it pretty well for a seven-year-old. “I guess tomorrow will be okay. But tomorrow is Saturday, so I have my riding lessons from Grandma in the morning. But we can go after that.”

* * *

Dana didn’t know when she’d seen a more adorable little girl. Abi’s curly red hair, copper freckles and intriguing hazel eyes reminded her of the young actress who’d played Annie on Broadway. Except, in Dana’s opinion, little Abi was even cuter, with a realness that could only be attributed to being raised on a ranch, surrounded by family and grounded in rural country. All foreign to Dana.

Abi’s attire also set her apart from any little girl Dana had ever been around. She wore a yellow shirt with denim cutoff shorts and bare feet. Even when she’d been playing as a child, Dana never went without shoes. The feature only added to Abi’s appeal; this was a true country girl. “Maybe I could come and watch your horseback-riding lessons.” She hoped to add some consolation for making Abi wait until tomorrow to shop.

Freckled cheeks pumped up with her smile. “Okay!” Then she proceeded to tell Dana about everything she’d learned in her riding lessons, while the cabin door opened and another tall cowboy Dana knew must be John’s brother stepped onto the porch. The exact image of John, except where John’s light brown hair was wavy and a little longer, Landon had a short, military style. But they had the same broad grin, the same amber eyes and the same deep dimples bracketing their smiles. Definitely brothers.

“Abi, let her get a word in every now and then.” He stepped off the porch and tweaked one of Abi’s pigtails. “You’ll have to learn to talk when she takes a breath. I’m Landon, and we’re glad you’re here, Ms. Brooks, even if you’ve gotten off to a rocky start with your arrival on the farm.”

A rocky start. Right. With all her attention focused on John, she’d almost forgotten about her entrance to the ranch. “I’m so sorry about Gypsy.” The guilt of killing this family’s oldest cow hit her hard as she continued to meet more of the Cutters.

“Gypsy? Is Gypsy okay?” Abi’s question caused Dana to realize that rarely being around children had removed her natural protective filter for the information she should share. Abi’s attention moved to the field. “Where is Gypsy?”

“Um...” Dana looked to John for help.

His mouth shifted to the side as though debating what to say, but then the cabin door opened again and a woman stepped out. Her hair, the same strawberry-blond as Abi’s, fell in long waves to her waist. “Abi, your chocolate milk is ready and on the kitchen table. Why don’t you come on in and drink it while it’s good and cold?”

“Yum.” Abi scrambled past the group and hurried into the house.

Landon looked adoringly at the stunning woman. “Ms. Brooks, this is Georgiana, my wife.”

“Please call me Dana.” She already felt over-the-top formal in her business suit and didn’t want them addressing her formally, as well. Looking back, she knew that wearing the outfit instead of something more casual was a mistake. It put a barrier up between her and this kind family, so willing to take her in and to forgive her for killing their cow.

“All right, then,” Landon said, his Southern drawl stretching out the words. “Georgiana, this is Dana.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dana said.

“You, too.” Georgiana lowered her voice and explained, “The window is open. I heard Abi’s question about Gypsy and thought it’d be a good time for her to have her chocolate milk.”

Landon wrapped an arm around his wife and kissed her cheek. “Smart thinking.”

“I feel terrible about what happened.” Dana sensed the warmth of John’s presence before she turned to verify that he’d moved to her side.

“We live on a ranch with a lot of livestock. We’re kind of used to the fact that they don’t all live forever.” His rich baritone sent goose bumps marching down her arms. Thank goodness for the long sleeves on her cardigan.

Dana had no idea how she’d control this crazy response to the cowboy. No guy from the city had ever had this effect on her senses, where every cell in her being seemed to stretch toward him whenever he neared. She knew she should say something, but once again, staring at those two dimples bracketing his smile, she found herself speechless.

Landon turned to John. “I talked to the guy at the rental car place in Stockville. They’ve got someone on their way to tow the vehicle, so we should go get Ms. Brooks’s—Dana’s—things out before they haul it.”

“All right.” John turned to Dana. “You good to stay here with Georgiana and Abi while we get your luggage?”

Thankfully, her brain started working again, and she found words. “Sure.”

“They’re getting you another vehicle, but it won’t be delivered until tomorrow afternoon. That okay?” Landon asked. “You can use one of ours in the meantime if you need to go anywhere. But you should know that Georgiana already canceled your room at the bed-and-breakfast. We want you to stay here.”

“Technically it isn’t canceled, but I told the Tingles that we planned on your staying at the ranch, unless you’d rather not,” Georgiana said. “But I can’t imagine you’d enjoy being in a tiny room cooped up over the next few weeks. Out here you can have run of the place and the land. Plus, you’ll be able to visit the farm firsthand every day, be around the horses. And you’ve probably already figured out how much we love having company.”

“That’s fine.” Dana was surprised that the family so easily took her in, working her into the day effortlessly. “I appreciate all your help.”

“Not a problem at all.” Georgiana’s smile claimed her face, and Dana was taken aback by her natural beauty. Hazel eyes in a heart-shaped face, copper freckles, bright smile. In a green T-shirt, denim capris and bare feet, she looked as pretty as any model.

“Georgiana, Dana isn’t exactly dressed for the farm, and since we might be gone a little while, do you think you could get her something more comfortable to wear?” John asked, then added, “Right now, she’s wearing a suit and heels.”

Dana wondered why John described what she wore, since Georgiana looked directly at her, and then the pieces clicked into place. The beautiful woman was blind.

“Oh, my, you broke down and had to walk all that way in a suit?” Georgiana asked. “Bless your heart. Yes, come on in, and we’ll find you something to wear. Abi can help. She loves picking out clothes. She helps me all the time.” Georgiana laughed. “It’s kind of hard for me to match things, you know.”

“Georgiana will take care of you until we get back.” John’s voice was quiet, and Dana turned to see that his eyes held an admiration and kindness toward his sister-in-law. He was right; regardless of her disability, Georgiana wanted to take care of her guest, and Dana wanted to let her.

“That’s fine,” she turned to Georgiana. “I’d love to borrow something, if you don’t mind. And I’ll call the bed-and-breakfast and let them know I’m officially canceling my reservation.”

Georgiana clasped her hands together. “Wonderful. We’re so glad you’ll be staying with us.”

“One thing, though, Georgiana,” Landon said.

“What’s that?”

“She’s got a good four or five inches of height on you. Probably want to consider that when you’re finding her clothes.”

Georgiana’s grin showcased the copper freckles on her cheeks and the hazel in her eyes. “So if she wears my pants, we’re talking high waters.” She lifted a shoulder. “Not a problem. I hear capris are in this year.” She waved a hand toward her own outfit.

Dana already liked the woman. “You heard right. They definitely are.”

“We’ll have dinner ready when y’all get back so John can eat before he heads to work,” Georgiana said to the rugged cowboys walking toward an old blue truck, their boots kicking up a bit of dust as they moved.

“Sounds great.” John climbed into the passenger side of the old pickup, looked at Dana and knuckled his Stetson. “Oh, by the way, welcome to the ranch.”

She stood beside Georgiana and watched them drive away, mesmerized with the lifestyle so different than her own. And equally mesmerized by the breathtaking cowboy with the sexy smile, and eyes that looked like honey in the sunshine.

“Come on, we’ll go get you some clothes.” Georgiana took a couple of steps, opened the door and led the way inside. If Dana didn’t know she was blind, she wouldn’t have been able to tell.

They entered the log cabin, and Dana viewed the beauty of plank wood ceilings, hardwood floors, exposed beams and a huge stone fireplace. Even the furnishings were rustic but homey. “Your room is upstairs, on the left. I’ll show you.” Georgiana started up the stairs. “Abi, you can come help me pick out some of my clothes for Miss Dana to wear if you’re done with your milk.”

“Cool!” Abi abandoned her spot at the kitchen table and ran toward the stairs.

“I didn’t hear you put your glass in the sink.” Georgiana’s motherly tone was endearing.

“Oh, yeah, right.” Abi turned, ran back to the table and moved her empty glass to the sink. Then she darted back across the living area to pass them going up the stairs. “I’ll go pick out something nice.”

Georgiana laughed. “Abi loves to help.” She slid her hand along the wall until it met the first door facing and then pointed to the open door. “That’s your room. There is an adjoining bathroom, and you should have all the linens and things you need, but if anything is missing, just let me know. We really are glad you’re here.”

Dana peeked in. A multicolored quilt covered the bed and another hung over a quilt rack near the window. Antique furniture filled the room with crocheted doilies accenting each piece. “The quilts and the doilies are lovely.”

“Mrs. Cutter made those before she passed on. When I was little and came over to ride horses with Landon, she was often on the front porch crocheting. I’m sure John will probably tell you, but they lost their mother eight years ago. She’d gotten depressed after her husband died in a farming accident and unfortunately turned to prescription meds. John was the one who found her. Landon was overseas serving in Afghanistan, and John became the man of the house here, taking care of the farm and their little brother, Casey.”

Dana had known that John’s parents were dead, but she hadn’t realized the amount of responsibility he’d inherited. He’d mentioned Casey and the fact that he was at the University of Alabama, but he hadn’t said anything about raising the boy after his mother died. “How old was Casey when she died?”

“I believe he was ten, maybe eleven.” Georgiana leaned against the door frame. “John saw him through all those teenage years and all the trouble that typically comes with them. And Casey turned out well, even if they had a few bumps along the way.”

“Mom, are y’all coming?” Abi’s voice echoed down the hall.

“And speaking of kids...” Georgiana shook her head, turned and continued down the hall.

Touched by the hospitality from this family, Dana felt an even stronger desire to make certain John’s dude ranch became a success after learning everything he’d gone through over the past few years.

As though she knew what Dana was thinking, Georgiana said, “John is really hoping this dude ranch idea will work, and he believes you’re the one who can make it happen.”

“It’s a good idea.” Dana believed it was, even if it wasn’t one that any wise investors would fund. And why wouldn’t they? Sure, Alabama wasn’t a typical location for a dude ranch, but if she could market it well, there shouldn’t be a problem. Then again, in the back of her mind she wondered if she had missed something. Was there more to getting an honest-to-goodness dude ranch up and running than she’d realized?

They entered Georgiana and Landon’s room, where Abi had gathered a few tops and pants and tossed them on the bed.

“Do you like any of those?” Abi asked. “Or do you want me to pick some other ones? I tried to put the ones together that I thought matched. Mommy lets me match her clothes, so I’m pretty good at matching.”

“Abi, just how many did you get out?” Georgiana asked, but Dana could tell she wasn’t perturbed with her daughter’s enthusiasm. On the contrary, her smile said she found Abi’s assistance adorable. And so did Dana.

“Just a few. I didn’t know what Miss Dana’s favorite color is, so I tried to get something in every color.”

Georgiana laughed. “I see.”

“How about that blue shirt with the flowers on it, and those jeans there?” Dana pointed to the outfit.

“Okay.” Abi gathered the two items and handed them over. “I’ll put the other stuff back, Mommy.”

“Thanks, sweetie. And you can come down to the kitchen when you get done, and we’ll finish getting dinner ready.”

“Okay.”

Georgiana moved back into the hall with Dana by her side. “If you’d like to come down after you’re dressed, and if you’d feel like helping with dinner, I can always use a hand in the kitchen.”

Dana rarely saw the kitchen at her apartment. She either ate out or grabbed a toasted bagel and coffee on the go. John had probably told Landon and Georgiana about her background if they weren’t aware already, so this woman knew that Dana was a fish out of water on the farm. But Georgiana graciously and kindly allowed her to ease into their world. Dana’s gratitude was instant. “I’d like that very much.”

Georgiana turned to go down the stairs, but Dana remembered something she’d said earlier that she hadn’t understood. “Georgiana?”

“Yes?”

“You said we’d eat dinner before John goes to work.”

She nodded. “He works the third shift at the steel plant, three nights on, four nights off. Tonight is night two of his three on. He’s also taking business classes during the week, getting his degree at the college in Stockville. Of course you knew that, since you met him in one of the college’s online business forums, right?”

“Right.”

“But yes, he works, goes to school, helps us run the fish camp and also does his share around the farm.” Georgiana’s mouth flattened, and she took a step back toward Dana. “As I said earlier, Landon was really touched by everything John did while Landon was overseas, and everything John still does to help things run smoothly around here.” She bit her lower lip. “Can I be honest with you?”

Dana heard the worry in her tone. “Yes, please.”

“Landon wasn’t certain how to feel about your coming down here, leaving Chicago and your business and all to head to Alabama and help John start a dude ranch. See, John was so disheartened when the bank turned down his business plan, and then he met you, and he got his hopes up again.”

“I believe his business will be successful,” Dana assured her. “That’s why I’m here, to make certain he has everything he needs to get it running. And it’s an investment for Brooks International—our first investment of this type.” The first of many, if Dana planned to follow through with her father’s last wish. As long as she could show her brother that the business could turn a profit, she should be able to assist many aspiring entrepreneurs all over the country.

“I know. And now that you’re here, and I’ve heard how happy John sounds and can practically feel his excitement over the dude ranch, well, Landon and I believe that you may be the answer to our prayer for John.”

Dana wasn’t sure what to say. “Your prayer?”

“Yes,” Georgiana said. “Our prayer that this time, his dreams can come true.”

Chapter Three

John ate every bite of his dinner but hardly tasted the steak and potatoes. His attention had been held captive by Dana Brooks’s excitement over his business plan. He’d sensed her interest on the college forum and even heard it in her voice when they’d talked on the phone, but he hadn’t been able to see her passion for the project. However, with every mention of the dude ranch tonight, her eyes lit up, her smile stretched wide and her enthusiasm became palpable. Over his idea.

Now that they’d finished eating and Landon and Georgiana had gone upstairs to get Abi ready for bed, he knew he should head to the cabin and get a couple hours’ sleep before he had to go to work at the steel plant. But he didn’t want to leave.

More than that, he didn’t want to leave Dana.

“You want to go out on the porch for a while? It’s a clear night, should be able to see the stars.” His voice sounded awkward, like a kid nervously asking a girl out on a date, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Sure. It isn’t often we get a good view of the stars in the city. All the lights drown them out, make them harder to see.”

“Well, as long as it isn’t cloudy, you can almost always see them here.” He opened the door and looked up to see that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sky was, sure enough, covered with stars.

She followed him out and they sat in two of the wooden rockers that lined the porch, where the sound of Abi’s laughter echoed from the upstairs window.

“Sounds like she’s enjoying her bedtime story,” Dana said.

“Landon tickles her as he tucks her in.” John grinned as his niece’s giggles subsided, and he heard the soft whispers of Abi saying her prayers with her parents.

Dana moved a hand to her heart. “Oh, that’s so precious.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The prayers eventually ended, and the two of them rocked in silence, chairs creaking as they moved back and forth. John enjoyed sharing the peaceful setting with the city girl. He didn’t know if she viewed the place the way he did, if she noticed the things he did, but right now he took comfort in the sky blanketed with stars, the barn and fields highlighted by the full moon, the sounds of bulls bellowing, horses nickering, a breeze whispering through the trees and the oddly harmonic melody of crickets and frogs.

Did she see this as beautiful, as he did? He started to ask her, but halted when she emitted a single, breathy, “Wow.”

John stretched his legs out in front of him, leaned back in the rocker and grinned. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“It’s amazing here, isn’t it? So peaceful, so beautiful.”

He crossed his feet at the ankles, noticed a few white Charolais cattle in the distance glowing beneath the moonlight. “Yes, it is.”

“Growing up, Ryan and I traveled quite a bit with our father, until he became too sick to leave home. We’d go from one business venture to another, have an occasional vacation, usually tropical locations because Daddy really liked the beach. But everything was always—” she shook her head “—I don’t know how to describe it...”

John knew how he described it. “Busy?”

Her white-blond hair, luminescent in the moonlight, shifted against her shoulders as she nodded. “Yes, busy. Noisy. And even though we were supposed to be relaxing, I don’t remember it that way. But this is so serene.”

John found it extremely satisfying to hear her describe his own feelings about the ranch. MaciJo had considered the setting boring, a place where no one would want to stay for life. In fact, the one girl he’d fallen for had been determined to find a way out of Claremont, and she’d done just that when she got the scholarship to Vanderbilt. But Dana knew everything about life in the city and about life with an abundance of money—something else MaciJo had wanted that John couldn’t provide—yet she appreciated the tranquillity and simplicity of the ranch. “One thing I remember most about my parents,” he said. “They called this place God’s country. I’d have to agree.”

“Georgiana mentioned that your parents had passed on and that you handled the farm and took over raising your younger brother while Landon was overseas.” She pushed back in the rocker, then added, “That must have been hard.”

She had no idea. John should’ve realized that Georgiana had probably filled her in on his past. Women had a natural urge to share, and John had hardly revealed anything about that time with anyone. But hearing her bring it up brought back the memories of those years and how he’d struggled to make ends meet. He’d been so focused on work and holding on to the farm that he’d almost lost Casey, both physically and spiritually.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” she said, and John realized that he’d been so caught up in the painful memories that he hadn’t answered her.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just that I went through a lot then, but we made it. With God’s help, Casey and I made it.”

“What happened?”

John swallowed, unsure of how much he wanted to tell. Sure, he’d been chatting online and talking on the phone with her for several months, but he didn’t really know her yet, and he hadn’t opened up with anyone about how difficult that time had been.

She cleared her throat. “You probably don’t want to talk about it. I guess it’s because I didn’t have much of a family—just my father and my brother—that I feel drawn to know about other family relationships. But I shouldn’t have asked.”

Typically he would say that it was okay, and stop at that, but for some reason he felt closer to Dana than he had with anyone in a very long time, and he felt compelled to share the rest. “I couldn’t pay the bills with money from the farm, so I took another job at the feed store and then another job working the third shift at the steel plant, the job I still have.”

“You were working around the clock, weren’t you?” Her rocker creaked as she leaned toward him. “Like the schedule you still have now?”

“My schedule now is a breeze compared to life back then. It was tough, and I didn’t handle it that well.” He tilted his head to see if he heard any voices from inside the house, and he heard the faint sound of Georgiana and Landon talking. He was glad they were occupied, because he wouldn’t want Landon to hear this confession. Sure, Landon knew John had had a hard time, but he’d never told his older brother how guilty he felt about Casey’s accident.

She shifted again in her seat, her body language telling him that she was interested in his past and in his struggles. “Sounds like you didn’t sleep much back then, either,” she said.

“I got enough, but sleeping wasn’t the issue. Not being there for Casey—that was the bigger problem.” He let the emotions he’d pushed to the recesses of his mind and heart ease forward and continued. “He got in with a bad crowd, turned away from his faith, away from me, and turned to alcohol.” John took a deep breath, pushed it out. “I was so focused on work that I didn’t even realize I was losing him, not until he got behind the wheel drunk. He had his girlfriend with him, our preacher’s granddaughter, Nadia.”

She stopped rocking, and although he turned his focus to the fields, he could sense that the woman next to him had turned her full attention to him. “Did he—did they have an accident?”

John nodded. “He was speeding when they hit a tree not far from where you had your accident today. Casey was banged up, but he was okay. But for a while there, we didn’t know if Nadia would make it. I’ve never begged God so hard to help, to heal her and forgive Casey. And to forgive me.” He hadn’t admitted the blame to anyone, but he did now. Oddly, relief flooded him with the admission.

“I’m so glad they were both okay.” She paused. “Casey is better now?”

Pride at how far Casey had come since that horrible night filled John’s soul. “Found God again and turned away from the wild group at school. Got the grades he needed to get accepted to Alabama, and he’s doing well there. He’s taken an interest in web design and has already created a few websites. His first semester was in the fall, and he made the dean’s list.” He grinned.

She smiled. “And Nadia?”

“She’s at the high school. She’s a year younger, but they are still dating. He comes home every few weeks to see her. It’s only a couple of hours’ drive from Tuscaloosa.”

“That’s wonderful. And I’m guessing your relationship with Casey is stronger, too, because of what you went through together? Going through hard times brings people closer, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.” John still didn’t look at her, but kept his attention on the fields, the moonlight, the grazing livestock. Surprised at himself for opening up this much, he didn’t think he could look at her now, because if he did, she might see too much, become too close. He’d kept his distance from others, particularly from women, since the pain of MaciJo. Working around the clock and tending to the farm helped him maintain his distance and kept his dating to a minimum, but over the next few weeks he suspected he’d spend more time with Dana Brooks than he had with any female in the past decade. And the fact that he felt comfortable with her, comfortable enough to tell her about the guilt of Casey’s accident, didn’t bode well. Because in a month, she’d go back to the city. He cleared his throat, prepared to tell her that he should head home and get some sleep before his shift started at the steel plant.

But then her words stopped his progress.

* * *

“I never went through any hard times like that, didn’t have any struggles in life at all, until those last weeks with my father. And it’s sad to say that I don’t think we ever really knew each other until we went through that time together. Maybe it was because my mother died when I was born that he didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to get hurt again. But even though I was with him often, I didn’t really know him until he realized he was dying.” She remembered those last weeks, when he finally acknowledged what was important and tried so hard to make sure she understood and didn’t make the same mistakes that he’d made. “I just wish we’d had more time together like that, and I wish Ryan would have spent more time with him then, instead of concentrating so much on keeping the company going while Daddy was sick.”

She barely held back her tears, and when John finally turned and looked at her, his golden eyes filled with understanding, her tears slipped free. He’d opened up to her tonight, and now she’d done the same, telling him more than she’d shared with anyone but Ryan. And her brother hadn’t understood, no matter how many times she’d tried to explain the change their father had undergone before he died, but the handsome cowboy sitting next to her on the porch did.

He leaned toward her, reached out and rested his hand on top of hers. The warmth of his palm covered her skin, his fingers gently wrapping around the sides of her hand. “It’s good you got to spend that time with him.”

“I feel as if I just dumped a lot on you,” she said, blinking past the tears and forcing a smile. “Don’t know what came over me.”

He returned the smile, the mood shifting and the tension between them easing with the gesture. Then he squeezed the top of her hand before sliding his away. “It’s the open country, sitting on the porch and having no reason to hold back on your thoughts and feelings. Kind of like sitting out by an open campfire and sharing all your secrets.”

“The kind of thing you’d do at a dude ranch, right?”

“Exactly.” He straightened in the rocker, scooted forward and Dana knew he was about to leave. “You still think my dude ranch will work?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And it’ll be very rewarding when I prove to my brother that I picked a wise investment.”

His smile grew, dimples popping into place, and he stood. “So Ryan Brooks doubted the success of an Alabama dude ranch? After six banks all thought it was a terrific idea and couldn’t wait to loan me money? In fact, I’ve still got all their letters of praise telling me why it’s a fabulous idea, if he’d like to see them.” At her soft laughter, John added, “Seriously, I do appreciate your taking a chance on this, especially when no one else would.”

“I’m making an investment based on my instinct more than on marketing history, of course, but Daddy told me to follow what feels right.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “And this feels right.”

“Investing in an Alabama dude ranch?”

She wanted to make sure he understood and put a lot of thought into her words. “The dude ranch is what’s on the surface, but that’s not what I’m investing in.”

He’d taken a step toward leaving, but he stopped and turned, leaned against the porch post. “You aren’t investing in the dude ranch?”

The moonlight behind him created a beautifully sculpted cowboy silhouette, but even in the shadow, she could see the question in his eyes, the slight tilt in his face saying he wondered if she’d changed her mind. That couldn’t be further from the truth. On the contrary, after learning even more about this intriguing man tonight and seeing how deeply he cared for others and how strongly he felt about this beautiful ranch, she’d reaffirmed her decision.

“My father always said that when you invest, you aren’t investing in things, you’re investing in the heart behind the product, in the soul that makes it work. I’m not investing in an Alabama dude ranch. I’m investing in you.”

He took another step then turned, and even though his face was in shadow, Dana knew he smiled at her now. “I plan to show you that’s a wise investment,” he said.

She returned his smile. “I’m counting on it.”

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