Your Ranch Or Mine?. Cindy Kirk

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СКАЧАТЬ stole another glance at his photo. Her heart fluttered in her throat at the thick dark hair and penetrating blue eyes she remembered so well. There was a maturity to his face that hadn’t been there at twenty. The fine lines which now fanned the corners of his eyes only added to his masculine appeal. His lips were—

      “I can tell you’re interested.” Lauren’s tone turned teasing. “You need to give your brother’s friend a chance.”

      Anna shook her head. “He’s not my type.”

      And even if she was interested, Anna had no doubt she was the last person he’d want to date. She couldn’t help but remember the hurtful accusations they’d flung at each other after the town’s centennial celebration all those years ago.

      “Okay.” Lauren shrugged and took a sip of lemonade. “I’ll throw you both back into the mix.”

      “You can put him in but leave me out.” Anna could have cheered when her voice came out casual and offhand, just as she’d intended. “Between Stacie’s wedding and my work at the law office, I don’t have much free time.”

      The excuse sounded convincing. And it was true. She was busy. Several months ago, she’d taken a position helping out local attorney Alexander Darst. The job was supposed to be only part-time, but lately she’d been at the office more than she’d been home.

      “We’ll be heading back to Colorado soon, anyway,” Anna added.

      “Don’t remind me.” Lauren glanced around and for a second her expression turned wistful. “I’m really going to miss this town. And this house.”

      Anna had to agree. When she’d returned to Sweet River, she’d been unsure of the reception she’d receive. To her surprise, she’d been welcomed back into the fold as if she’d never left. After living in a large, impersonal city for thirteen years, it had been…nice. She found herself invited to christenings, to barn dances and to coffee at the café.

      “By the way, how did the estimates come out?” Lauren asked.

      The question pulled Anna from her reverie.

      “Shocking. Horrible.” When Anna had inherited the home from her grandmother, she’d known it needed some work. But she could barely get the estimate for the new roof past her lips.

      Lauren gasped. “No way.”

      “Way.” Anna sighed. “The contractor said the cost is high because the roof is steep and has all those angles.”

      While it might make shingling more difficult, the peaks and valleys were part of the house’s charm. Just like the leaded glass above the large picture window that overlooked the porch. And the high ceilings with the ornate crown molding.

      Thunder rumbled overhead and Anna glanced at the sky. The way her day was going it seemed fitting that bright blue had given way to a muddy gray.

      “What are you going to do?” Lauren asked, as if Anna had more than one option.

      “Have it fixed,” Anna said glumly. She couldn’t believe the money she’d worked so hard to save for the past five years would now go to pay for shingles, nails and black paper. Her dream of owning a clothing boutique had never seemed further away.

      Lauren took another sip of lemonade and absently crumbled the last bit of sugar cookie on her plate. “You could sell. Let the buyer pay for the roof.”

      “I thought about that.” Anna felt guilty even admitting she’d considered the possibility. Parting with the house would be like selling a member of the family.

      Every time she opened the closet door beneath the stairs, the lingering scent of mothballs brought memories from her childhood flooding back. The darkened area behind the coats had been her favorite place to hide from her brother. And the bedroom she now used with the antique medallion-and-leaves wallpaper was where she’d slept whenever she spent the night with her grandmother. Though it might sound crazy, sometimes when she was drifting off to sleep, she swore she felt her grandmother’s lips brush her cheek.

      “Grandma Borghild gave me her home to love.” Anna blinked back unexpected tears. “I can’t sell it to a stranger.”

      “I understand this is difficult.” Lauren’s gaze lingered on Anna’s stylish geometric print dress and the chunky bracelets encircling her wrist. “But you’re no longer a small-town girl. The place needs constant attention and it’s not like you’re ever going to live here again. In fact, after you leave, who knows when you’ll be back in Sweet River?”

      While Anna acknowledged the logic in Lauren’s argument, heaviness filled her heart. Her beloved grandmother had passed on. Her parents now lived in Florida. All she had was her brother, her niece…and this house. “You think I should sell.”

      The words came out in a controlled tone, but inside Anna trembled with pent-up emotion.

      “Only when you’re ready,” Lauren said softly. “Not before.”

      “Montana is such a beautiful place. I wish I could be content here.” Anna glanced at the patch of prairie coneflowers to the left of the porch. They’d been her grandmother’s favorite flower. She’d called them “Mexican Hats” because of their sombrero-shaped flower heads and drooping petals. “Sweet River has just never been enough for me.”

      She saw no need to mention that it had been enough once. But she’d been young back then. Naive. In love with someone she’d ultimately let down.

      “You and I are a lot alike,” Lauren said. “We know what we want out of life and we’re willing to work hard to make our dreams a reality.”

      Lauren didn’t give compliments easily and for Anna, the support was a much-needed confidence booster. The way Lauren talked, the yolk hadn’t broken. The world was still hers for the taking.

      “Be careful,” Anna warned, feeling her spirits rise. “Or I might think you’re telling me I can have it all—a new roof, the boutique I’ve always dreamed of and eventually a family of my own.”

      “I wouldn’t bet against you.” Lauren shot her a wink. “A determined woman always finds a way to get what she wants.”

      Chapter Two

      Mitchell Donavan smiled as his golf ball sailed down the fairway of the Big Timber course before veering to the right.

      Though his hadn’t gone as far or as straight as Alexander Darst’s, it had been a respectable hit off the tee. He’d been playing for nearly ten years, ever since he realized that as much business was conducted on the golf course as in the office. If you didn’t play, you could be left out of the game.

      Mitch had spent enough of his boyhood on the outside looking in. He didn’t care to repeat the experience as an adult. He hoisted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started down the fairway.

      When he reached his ball, he paused and stared into the distance. The vertical peaks and sawtooth ridges of the Crazy Mountains made him feel at home in a way the ramshackle house of his childhood never had….

      “When I went off to college, I always planned to come back here,” Mitch reminisced. СКАЧАТЬ