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Authors: Claire McEwen

Tags: #romance, #Contemporary, #Western, #Fiction

Convincing the Rancher (20 page)

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
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“Tess!” Slaid called, hurrying over. “Sorry about all this.” He waved vaguely at the roof. “I thought they’d be gone by now.”

“You’re really doing it, huh?” she said. “You’re installing solar panels?”

“Gotta lead by example.” He had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Sorry if this is awkward.”

“Tess is tough. She can take it,” Jack said, his border collie, Zeke, at his heels. “How’s it goin’, Tess?”

“I assume if they’re here at Slaid’s, that you and Sam already have your panels installed?” Tess asked.

“Just yesterday.”

“I guess I should say congratulations,” Tess said drily. “And can I ask how your other plans are going? Are many people signing on to go solar?”

The two men glanced at each other as if trying to figure out what to reveal.

“Never mind,” she said. “I don’t plan on sharing my plans, so I won’t pry into yours.”

“I’d better be getting home,” Jack said. He gave Tess a long look. “Samantha would love it if you’d come by for dinner with us sometime, Tess.”

She had told Samantha she was way too busy to come over for dinner, yet here she was ready to dine with Slaid. She’d thought the solar panels were the most awkward thing between her and Sam, but maybe this was worse. “Sure,” she said, keeping her voice casual. “I’ll call her to pick a date.”

“Okay,” Jack said, but Tess could tell it wasn’t.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Slaid said. Jack nodded and walked to his truck, calling Zeke to follow.

Slaid gestured toward his house. “Shall we go on inside?”

Tess hesitated. “Maybe this is just too awkward...”

“We’re adults. We both know I’m working on getting panels up and you’re working to promote the wind farm.”

“Yes, but it’s uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Let’s just be straight with each other. I’ll start by telling you something I hate to admit. So far, the solar plans are going slowly. We’re having more trouble getting state funding than we’d anticipated.”

Tess felt a twinge of guilt. She suspected that he was having trouble getting funding because the CEO and the board members of Renewable Reliance were extremely well connected at the state capital. She wouldn’t doubt that they’d called in a few favors to ensure that this wind project happened. “That must be frustrating” was all she said.

They started up the drive toward the house, walking side by side. “How was your informational evening last night? Did people like the video?”

She smiled despite her discomfort. “It was nice. A few people came and asked a lot of good questions, mostly about the impact on birds, wildlife and tourism. And somehow they’d heard the story of the video shoot. About the CEO and the cows and a certain cowboy who came to my rescue.”

“Hmm...” Slaid winked. “I have no idea how word got out on that one.”

“Yeah, right.” Tess gave him a friendly jab with her elbow.

He laughed. “Well, I might’ve mentioned it to one or two people. Can you blame me? It’s too funny a story to keep to myself.”

“No, I don’t blame you. But when I showed the video, I don’t think they were paying much attention to what Mr. Tate was saying. They were just looking for glimpses of the wild and crazy cows.”

He laughed. “I’d love to see that. But I’m sorry if me telling the story messed up your evening.”

“Hey, any interest in the project is good interest as far as I’m concerned. If the CEO had a sense of humor, I’d ask him to let me show an outtake video so people could actually see your cows in action. But I don’t think he’s the type to appreciate that.”

“Well, if you can get your hands on the bloopers, I’ll pay top dollar for a copy. I could set up a showing and serve beer and pass out antiwindmill flyers.”

Tess laughed. “No chance! I’d be aiding the enemy. Speaking of which...” She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a folder. “I saved you your very own copy of all the literature, including the environmental impact report.”

“It’s in here?”

“Just got it yesterday, barely in time for the meeting. So I’ve got another dinner scheduled in a few days to give people a chance to ask questions informally. You’re welcome to come.”

“You’re fearless, aren’t you?” Slaid asked. “I wouldn’t want you at one of my meetings.”

“Really? I promise I’d behave.” She gave him a wink that told otherwise.

Slaid just kissed the tip of her nose and took the information packet.

He opened a gate that led onto the flagstone patio. It was surrounded by a low stone wall that had desert plants growing all the way along it. There was a fire pit and a bunch of comfortable-looking chairs. A gas grill was beside the house, and Slaid paused to light it. “We’ll just let that warm up for a few minutes. I’ve got some chicken marinating.”

Tess shivered. “You grill at this time of year?”

“I’ve been known to grill with snow on the ground. It’s easy...and less dishes when you’re done.” Slaid motioned to the furniture as they walked across the big space. “We spend a lot of time out here on summer evenings. Though this time of year, it’s a little too cold for most people.”

“But obviously you’re not most people if you grill in the snow.”

He grinned at her, a teasing sparkle in his eye that had the power to melt. “I grew up out here. I don’t feel the cold so much as someone like you.”

“You mean someone wimpy?”

He laughed outright. “Your words, not mine.” He lifted her hands, his warm fingers twining through her freezing ones. “You’ve proved my point.” He kissed her knuckles. “Icicles. Let’s get inside.”

Tess pulled her focus from his kiss to take in the house more closely. “Hey, wait a minute! What’s a mid-century modern doing out here?”

Slaid smiled. “Should have known you’d recognize it.”

“Recognize it? I’m a huge fan! I wandered the streets of Palm Springs for a few days once just drooling over these types of houses. How did it get built here in Benson?”

“Well, my dad and mom honeymooned in Palm Springs and he decided then and there that this was the kind of house he wanted.”

“But it makes no sense,” Tess exclaimed. “These houses are all about the indoor-outdoor living. And those huge floor-to-ceiling windows... Don’t they let in all the cold air?”

“A little. But they’re double paned.” He showed her the extralong eaves to keep the snow off, and once inside, he had her place her palms on the floor. The stone tiles had radiant heat and were warm to the touch.

It was a modern icon but it was definitely a home, complete with comfortable furnishings. The large painting hanging on one of the living room walls depicted the mountains but was just abstract enough to be interesting. Slaid gave her a tour—it was one of the most serene homes Tess had ever been in. And then they passed a room that could only belong to Slaid’s son. Posters of football players adorned the walls and a few shelves were full of trophies. Schoolbooks were stacked neatly on the desk. “Where is Devin tonight?” Tess asked.

“At my sister’s. She loves having him over, and she has a son about his age. The boys are really close.”

It was none of her business, but she was curious. “How long were you with your ex-wife?”

Slaid leaned on the wall by Devin’s door. “We met in high school and got married right after graduating from college.”

“So you had Devin right away?”

“Devin’s adopted,” Slaid answered. “He’s my cousin’s son actually. She got involved with drugs and eventually landed in jail—where she is now. I got a call from social services one day, asking if I’d take him in. So we did, and we adopted him legally a few years later, when it was clear his mom wouldn’t ever be able to take care of him.”

Tess was stunned by this new image of Slaid. “You’re a good man,” she finally said.

“I got a good kid,” he answered. “I’m lucky to be his dad. I can’t believe he’s fourteen already. Kids grow up quickly.”

Tess did the math and swallowed hard. Fourteen. She’d had her baby fourteen years ago. Her son. Adam. She rarely let herself say his name—Adam would be the same age as Devin. Did he have similar sports photos on the wall? Did he have a shelf full of trophies, too? She tried to drag her mind away from those thoughts—picking at an old wound did no good. She was glad Devin was at his aunt’s tonight. She wasn’t prepared to meet him. Not yet. Probably never.

Slaid continued the tour of his house, but Tess was having difficulty paying attention. She shouldn’t be here, getting involved with someone who had a son—especially an adopted son. What would Slaid think of her if he knew about Adam?

Focus on the present,
she reminded herself. The same four words she’d been using as a mantra ever since Adam’s adoptive parents had taken him home from the hospital, leaving her lost and devastated.
Focus on the present.

Slaid led her through the living room and into the kitchen. Its clean lines and windows up by the roofline gave it a light and airy feel, even at night. He pulled a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator, opening it while she looked around, taking in the big dining table along the glass walls that lined two sides of the room. In the daytime the views must be spectacular.

He handed her a glass and she sipped it, appreciating the dry, bright flavors on her tongue.

Slaid was watching her as he drank from his own glass. “I’m glad to have you in my house, Tess,” he said. “Though I have to admit, after a couple years of fantasizing about you, it’s kind of strange to see you standing right here.”

Surprised, Tess’s laugh burst out. “You didn’t really fantasize, did you?”

His laugh matched her own. “Can you blame me?”

“Well, I hope the reality of me can measure up. Two years is a lot of time to build up unrealistic ideas about someone.”

“Oh, you’ve far surpassed anything I could think up. Smacking my cow with a scarf, for example.”

“That cow was crazy! What was that about?”

“Well, sometimes we get a cow who needs to be bottle-fed, and it gets kind of attached to people. And Devin likes to baby those ones a little too much. So that cow, Number Fifty-Eight, also known as Rosco, is way too used to the good life.”

“Rosco? It suits her—a pushy name for a pushy cow.”

Slaid grinned. “Not pushy. Just very, very loving.”

She was still giggling when Slaid went out to his chilly patio to put the chicken on the grill. Tess looked around his gorgeous home and sighed. Of all the houses in Benson, this was the one she’d want to live in. She could see herself sitting in the sun on those patios, appreciating ranch life from a safe distance, and cooking up a meal in this perfectly planned kitchen. When Slaid came back in she was so deep in her domestic reverie that she actually jumped. And then felt almost dizzy when she realized where her thoughts had been taking her.

Tess Cole, the queen of dry cleaning, takeout and maid service, had been lost in a fantasy that involved cooking? She had never cooked a meal, nor had a single domestic yearning, in her entire life. It was disconcerting to find herself having them here in Slaid’s home. The home he shared with a teenaged son. The home that was in Benson, so far away from her own world.

“I’d give a lot more than a penny to know what you were thinking just then,” Slaid said as he picked up his wineglass.

“Oh, highly classified. And you do not have security clearance,” she joked to cover her confusion over where her thoughts had just been.

“Does anyone have access to Tess Cole’s secrets?”

“Absolutely no one,” she said firmly, feeling that familiar panic seeping in.
Change the subject.
“So tell me more about life on a cattle ranch.”

For the next little while he entertained her with stories of cows and horses, downed fences and snowstorms, and somehow made life on his ranch sound fun. Not full of the grit and hard work that she knew was the reality. He kept up the conversation all through the cooking and then as they ate dinner. He seemed determined to put her at ease and, although he did ask about her work and her apartment in the city, he didn’t ask about her family or her childhood—and for that she was grateful.

Once they cleared the table, Slaid built a fire in the living room fireplace, and as they were curled up on the couch with the last of their wine, Tess felt a part of her unwind—a part she hadn’t realized was coiled and tensed. And she wondered if she’d ever felt so at ease with another person in the room.

He must have sensed it somehow because he turned to face her and said, “I really do want to get to know you better, Tess. But if my questions get too personal you can toss this pillow at me. Sound good?” He threw a rust-colored pillow in her lap.

Despite the twinge of anxiety at his request, she burst out laughing. “How about we just have a pillow fight? I think it would be way more fun.”

“How about you tell me where you went to college?”

Well, that was easy. “I graduated from UCLA.” He didn’t need to know about the years at community college and her struggle to pay for the two years of university once she transferred.

“And why did you choose to work in public relations?”

“I’m good at talking people into things.” A skill she’d had to learn young. The first time had been when she was probably four years old and she’d talked the local storeowner out of a candy bar. She’d been so damn hungry.

“But not cows.”

“Apparently my skills are not very effective with cows, no.”

He laughed. “Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Food?”

That was a tough one. Tess loved all food. Maybe it was from growing up without much of it. “If I had to pick one thing, maybe peaches. Right in the middle of summer, when they’re completely ripe.” Fresh food had been a rarity in her foster homes. And nothing was fresher than a peach in summer.

“Favorite place to travel?”

“Paris, of course!” The ultimate symbol of how far she’d come from her roots.

“Can I have another date?”

She threw the pillow at him and he caught it with one hand. “We’ll see,” she said.

* * *

S
LAID CAUGHT THE
pillow with a sense of regret. The interview was over and he’d only learned a little about this mystery woman. He wondered about the stories behind her answers. Because there were a bunch, he could tell. Emotion flickered behind her concise words. She was obviously an expert at deflection, just like Jack had warned. Her quick humor was like a defensive weapon, so subtle you barely realized she was using it on you.

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
8.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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