The Rancher's City Girl. Patricia Johns

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      Cory also wanted a chance to get to know this pretty nurse a little better, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. Eloise regarded him with a thoughtful gaze.

      “I feel responsible for how this turned out.” She blushed. “This is all pretty much my fault, you know.”

      “Oh, absolutely.” He shot her a wry grin. “But in the best way possible, of course.”

      She laughed softly. “I can ask if he’d be willing to visit—”

      Cory’s phone blipped and he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced down at a text from his partner. He clenched his teeth in frustration.

      “Everything okay?” she asked.

      “Another injury. One of the cowboys got his arm caught in the bridle of a spooked horse. They’ll have to take him to the next ranch over to get treated by their medic—”

      “Does this sort of thing happen often?” Eloise asked, frowning.

      “You wouldn’t...” He paused, uncertain if he should even voice the idea. “Look, I know this is a bit forward, but if you and my father came to the ranch for a visit, would you consider a little extra work?”

      “Replacing your medic?” she asked.

      “For a couple of weeks, until we can hire someone. I’d be eternally grateful on both counts, if you’re interested.”

      “I’ll have to talk to your father and his doctor first, of course. If they agree, I’d be happy to lend a hand. You sound like you’re in a bind.”

      He nodded. “Let me know. I’ll have to head back tomorrow.”

      Cory dropped his hat onto his head and looked back at the house. Robert Bessler was nothing like what he’d expected, yet the chance to understand the miserable old man snagged at that boyhood longing.

      Not to mention Eloise. She was beautiful, brave, confident—and the only person who actually knew his elderly father right now, and he had a feeling that her insights would be invaluable.

      “I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” she promised and offered a smile. “It was really nice to meet you.”

      “Likewise.” He held out his hand and took her slender hand in his. “Take care.”

      He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, reluctantly releasing her. She fluttered her fingers in a wave and turned back toward the door. As he trotted down the steps and strode to his pickup truck, Cory sighed.

      Lord, he prayed silently, I hope this isn’t a mistake.

       Chapter Two

      The rest of the day, Cory shopped for items needed at the ranch. He bought two massive bags of dry dog food, about ten packs of socks for the ranch hands and a few cases of canned food. A trip into town couldn’t be wasted. By late afternoon, with errands completed, he found himself in a produce store, staring at the seasonal fruit.

      He hoped that Eloise would take him up on his offer and come with his father out to the ranch. As much as he wanted time with his dad, though, his mind kept moving back to the pretty redhead. He found himself wondering about her as a woman. What did she do when she wasn’t working? Did she have anyone special in her life right now? He hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, but then that wasn’t the surefire signal it used to be.

      Cory chose several peaches from a pyramid of fragrant clingstones and dropped them into a bag. He fumbled with the bag as he tied it shut, then moved on to the next bin—plums.

       Lord, this visit to see my dad didn’t turn out the way I expected. I thought he’d care more, somehow. But you know him, Father. Open doors here. We don’t have a lot of time.

      As he headed to the counter to pay, a flash of red curls caught his eye, and he turned in surprise. Eloise shot him a smile.

      “Hi, stranger,” she said. She still wore the same jeans from earlier, her embroidered top revealing the barest hint of her collarbone.

      “Fancy seeing you here.”

      She hoisted a bag of apples. “I’m making a pie tonight after the house cools off.”

      “Sounds good.” Cory put his purchases on the counter and nodded to hers. “My treat.”

      Eloise smiled shyly and she put her bag down with his while he paid. The cashier’s bracelets jangled as she weighed the fruit. She gave Cory his change and he and Eloise moved toward the door together.

      “The doctor gave us the go-ahead to come to your ranch,” Eloise said. “If there is anything your father wants to do, this is the time to do it.”

      “That’s great.” Cory inwardly winced. That came out wrong. There didn’t seem to be any right way to say things when it included someone facing death. Eloise didn’t seem to notice.

      “Mr. Bessler hasn’t made his decision yet...” She gave him a sympathetic smile.

      “I do have to head back tomorrow.”

      “I’ll talk to him when I get back and give you a call.”

      “Does that mean he’s alone right now?” he asked.

      “No, an agency sends hospice volunteers to spend time with him. It gives me some time to myself.”

      The door to the grocery store shut behind them and they stepped into the glare of the afternoon sun. The scent of petunias from hanging planters mingled comfortably with the warm summer air. Shops on Main Street had kept their doors propped open and a local talk-radio show filtered out from the open door of a stationery shop, the DJ chatting away about Meagher County weather and an upcoming heat wave. Montana would serve up a hot, satisfying summer.

      “I’m getting in the way of that time on your own, aren’t I?” Cory tipped back his hat and grinned.

      “Not at all. It’s nice to have some company.”

      “What were you going to do with your time off?”

      Eloise paused, shrugged. “I hadn’t decided yet. Just go where the day takes me.”

      He felt a smile come to his lips. “Would you care for a walk?”

      “Sure.”

      Cory put the bags of fruit in his truck on the way past, and they ambled up the street together. The clunk of his boots interspersed with the soft slap of her delicate sandals.

      “It mustn’t have been easy to hear about your parents.” Eloise’s voice was so quiet that he almost didn’t catch her words.

      “I guess there are two sides to every story,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected. My mother always held on to him, somehow. Wouldn’t say a bad word about him. He was my father and that counted for something. To her, at least.”

      “He СКАЧАТЬ