A Rancher To Love. Trish Milburn

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Three

      Leah jerked awake gasping for air, panic flooding her body. She scanned her surroundings, certain that Jason Garton was hiding in the unfamiliar shadows, on the verge of leaping out and finishing what he’d started. She lifted her hand to her neck, where she could still feel the tight grip of Garton’s large fingers pressing her down, preventing her from escaping.

      Gradually, her heart rate slowed as she remembered where she was—her new home on Tyler Lowe’s ranch. After a couple of days at her parents’ house while she made arrangements for her move, she’d dared to hope the nightmares about her attack were past. All it took for them to return with a vengeance was a single night alone in the bunkhouse.

      Knowing from experience that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she threw off the thin quilt and got out of bed. With her pulse still faster than normal, she made the round of doors and windows, making sure they were all locked. Then knowing she was being paranoid, she checked all the rooms, including the closets. No Jason Garton. No threats of any kind, unless she counted the threat of possibly stubbing her toe on one of the boxes containing her belongings.

      Holding her breath, she eased to the window closest to the front door and peeked out through the blinds. The night was pitch-black except for the lone security light that hung on a post between the house and the barn. Even Tyler’s house was dark. No doubt he was sound asleep as she should be. But then he probably didn’t have nightmares about being attacked in his own home, his very life at risk.

      She released the blind, allowing it to fall back into place, and turned back toward the pile of boxes Conner had helped her unload earlier in the day. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well make some progress on her unpacking before she convinced herself moving here had been a colossal mistake, solving nothing.

      Tackling one box after another, she began to turn the bunkhouse into something resembling an actual home. Her clothes hanging in the closet, her dishes filling the kitchen cabinets, the patchwork quilt her grandmother had made for her draped over the back of the couch. When she reached the first of the boxes that held her jewelry-making supplies, she ran her hand across the plastic containers of colorful beads. The Swarovski crystals, pewter beads and Czech glass normally had her creativity tripping over itself with ideas. But that was before the night her life had been turned inside out, before the attack that had resulted in hundreds of her beads being catapulted in all directions as she’d tried desperately to reach something to free herself from Garton’s grip.

      “No!”

      She growled in frustration and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples, wishing she could banish memories of that night. Defying that core of fear that refused to leave her alone, she pulled out her supplies and filled the long dining table with boxes of beads, wire and assorted tools of her trade. She might not be ready to get back to work tonight, but she would not hide her supplies away anymore. They’d given her countless hours of enjoyment and the ability to make a living, much more than the one night they were tainted. She needed to remember that, remind herself as many times as necessary.

      When she finally got everything unpacked, she noticed the windows didn’t look quite so dark anymore. A quick check through the blinds revealed the first pale light of day making its way across the ranch.

      Leah considered collapsing back into bed. Maybe she’d become one of those people who slept during the day and kept night-owl hours for her work. But she’d always been someone who liked the early hours of the day when the world seemed to come alive again. Deciding to stay up and just call it an early night, she set a pot of coffee to brewing and took a quick shower. Maybe today was the day she’d really and truly reclaim her life and dive back into work.

      Freshly showered and wearing clean clothes, she poured herself a cup of coffee and went out to sit in one of the old rocking chairs on her porch. She listened to the simple sounds of early morning, the birds chirping and a slight breeze stirring the tops of the trees on the opposite side of the gravel drive. She took a sip of her coffee and glanced to her right, noticing that the gravel ended a few yards beyond the bunkhouse but the drive continued on as a dirt surface until it reached a gate at the corner of the pasture. In the distance, she noticed a few head of cattle meandering out of the morning’s disappearing shadows.

      Even though she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, this slice of peacefulness was more than welcome. Maybe she just needed more time to adjust, to find her way back to some normalcy.

      The sound of footsteps had her jerking her attention in the opposite direction. The source of the sound proved to be Tyler striding from the house toward the barn. He didn’t look in her direction, giving her the opportunity to observe him from a distance. Now that he wasn’t so close, he didn’t seem so huge or imposing. Truthfully, her impression of his size had more to do with her own. It didn’t take much to tower over someone who was only a couple of inches over five feet. If she could keep him this far away, maybe she’d be able to relax more and not suffer from the irrational fear that he posed a threat.

      From the safety of her porch, she thought about how differently she would have viewed Tyler had they met before the attack. Well, pretty much the same in the looks department. Despite her nervousness around him, she wasn’t blind to how handsome he was with those long, powerful legs, broad shoulders, nicely muscled arms. His short blond hair was a couple of shades darker than her own. But it was those blue eyes of his that could stop a woman in her tracks. She’d always been a sucker for a beautiful pair of eyes on a man, and Tyler Lowe definitely had that.

      Too bad she wasn’t sure she’d ever be comfortable around a man again. Not for the first time she wished she were taller, stronger, more able to protect herself.