Eternal Vows. Rochelle Alers

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СКАЧАТЬ “Last night I had an in-depth discussion with Jeremy about setting up an equine hospital on the last quadrant. I could use you at the hospital because of your surgical training. No pressure,” he said quickly when she lifted her eyebrows.

      “No pressure but a whole boatload of guilt,” Peyton teased.

      Ryan winked at her. “No guilt, either.” He sobered. “I want the best for you, Peyton. And if that means you working at another farm then I want you to follow your dream. The only thing I’m going to ask is if we do put up the hospital I’d like you to assist me in the O.R.”

      Peyton rested her head on his shoulder. “I promise. Now, are you coming to the wedding and reception?”

      He dropped his arm. “I wouldn’t miss it. Will you save me a dance?”

      “I don’t know, cousin. I’ll probably be so busy dancing with all of the single men that I may not have time for an old married man like you.”

      “I’m not that old and I haven’t been married that long.”

      Peyton wiggled her fingers as she climbed into the truck. “Thanks for taking over for me this morning. I’ll see you later.” She and Ryan alternated days checking on the horses. Not only did she want to gain greater experience caring for the farm animals, but she also wanted Ryan to spend more time with his wife and three young children. She smiled. He’d more or less given her his blessing about securing employment elsewhere. Peyton believed she would never be able to come into her own professionally if she continued to work at her family’s farm.

      Peyton maneuvered onto the local road leading to Cole-Thom Farms, downshifting and coming to a stop when she pulled in behind a caravan of trunks and vans inching toward the gatehouse security checkpoint. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in frustration as security personnel carefully checked the papers of the drivers in each van. Nicholas had pulled off a minor miracle when he contracted with an event planner to coordinate a reception for an estimated two hundred guests in less than forty-eight hours.

      He had invited several neighboring farms to the soirée; the owners and their employees were already in a party mood because of the upcoming biannual open-house festivities, and the owner of Cole-Thom Farms sister’s wedding was an unexpected prelude to what was touted as an inexhaustible supply of food, drink and music.

      Celia and Gavin had picked up their marriage license; she and Celia had selected their gowns from a bridal boutique. Except for adjustments to the bodice, the gowns hadn’t needed any major alterations. They’d also purchased wedding accessories and ordered their bouquets and the groom and best man’s boutonnieres. Customarily some brides spent a year planning their wedding, while Celia’s had taken a mere three days. The weather had also cooperated for the outdoor venue. There was hardly a cloud in the sky; temperatures were predicted to peak in the mid to high eighties, and nighttime temperatures in the mid-seventies.

      Peyton gave her name to the guard, who flashed a warm smile. “Aren’t you the lady doctor from Blackstone Farms?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      He extended his hand. “I’m Clinton Patrick. It’s nice to put a face with a name. Welcome to Cole-Thom Farms.”

      She shook the gnarled hand. “Thank you.”

      “Go straight ahead and follow the signs to the end of the allée. When you come up on the one for Cole House just make a left and you’re there.”

      Towering trees stood along the newly paved roadway like sentinels. The smell of freshly mowed grass wafted through the truck’s open windows. Peyton spied several mares and their foals frolicking in a meadow surrounded by white rails under the watchful eye of farm workers. Men and women dressed in coveralls were unloading vans with tables and chairs, while others were driving stakes into the ground for those waiting to set up tents. Printed signs were posted on trees with directions to turn right or left for parking and comfort stations.

      When she’d called to ask Nicholas to meet her for dinner, she’d suggested a Staunton steakhouse. She told him to meet her at the restaurant because she didn’t want him to get the impression that she was trying to come on to him. If they arrived in separate vehicles, then they would leave in separate vehicles. However, he’d insisted he would come to the farm and pick her up. Her plan to talk to him about possible employment was foiled when he called back to say he’d invited his sister and future brother-in-law to join them.

      Truthfully Peyton wouldn’t know how to come on to Nicholas, because he was nothing like the men she’d known. He was much too aloof, indifferent. She wasn’t an ingenue when interacting with the opposite sex. By the time she’d entered high school she recognized when a boy was interested in her. The sly glances, the purposeful brush of his body against hers and those bold enough to verbalize they wanted to sleep with her.

      Then, Peyton hadn’t had a boyfriend in the traditional sense, but hung out with a group of brainiacs that were more interested in their grades than in hooking up. They did everything together: study, hang out at the mall, go to the movies and crowd into booths at their favorite restaurant chain. The cool kids teased them relentlessly, but Peyton and her fellow geeks closed ranks to strengthen their supportive, carefree bond. She never concerned herself about not having enough money for a movie or for their occasional Friday-night outings because every week everyone in the group would donate five dollars of their allowance to an unofficial sunshine fund. At the end of the school year they celebrated in grand style at an upscale restaurant.

      Peyton found kindred spirits in her fellow nerds. They’d developed a friendship that went beyond high-school graduation. As college students they continued to communicate with one another in cyberspace and once a year between Thanksgiving and Christmas they’d reconnect for a celebratory weekend in their small hometown in upstate New York.

      College was very different for her. She dated her roommate’s cousin who wasn’t ready or willing to come out of the closet. Peyton wasn’t ready to give up her virginity, so going out with Collier had become a win-win situation for both. Who she did give her virginity to wasn’t worth her taking off her clothes. However, she didn’t know that until it was too late.

      She saw the sign for Cole House tacked to a tree, and made a left turn. A trio of chimneys came into view when she maneuvered up an incline. Peyton held her breath when she saw the white three-story antebellum great house at the end of a live oak allée. A full-height, columned porch wrapping around the front and sides of the magnificent Greek Revival mansion was something she’d only seen in books and magazines.

      When she and Celia met to discuss wedding plans, the E.R. doctor revealed that Nicholas had spent most of his inheritance to set up his enterprise. Celia also said she thought her younger brother frivolous, but after seeing the farm she was forced to admit he’d proven her wrong.

      Peyton parked the pickup behind Nicholas’s late-model Lincoln sedan in the circular driveway. Alighting from the truck, she walked up the steps to the porch. She lifted the massive lion’s head door knocker, letting it fall against the door painted a glossy navy blue. Seconds later it opened and she curbed the urge to take a backward step when Nicholas loomed over her. She didn’t know why, but she hadn’t expected him to answer his own door.

      Peyton held her breath when she stared at the white T-shirt stretched over his broad, muscled chest. Her gaze moved slowly from his throat to the faded relaxed jeans riding dangerously low on a pair of slim hips. Her gaze reversed itself when she stared boldly at his face. There was something in his large, dark eyes that wouldn’t permit her to glance away. The nostrils of his delicate nose flared slightly when their eyes met and held.

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