Renee Andrews - Heart of a Rancher

Alabama Is For Cowboys

A dude ranch is John Cutter’s lifelong dream, but it’s one that the banks won’t fund. So when a big-city businesswoman invests in the project—and stays to make the ranch a reality—John is thrilled. Despite her fancy clothes, Dana Brooks is the opposite of the gal who broke John’s heart by leaving the country for the city. Dana’s hard work, appreciation for the land and kindness to his family soon has John thinking about forever. But when he discovers her shocking secret, will John lose everything—or risk it all to believe in love?

“Don’t worry, I won’t be putting you in one of the fishing shacks,” John assured Dana.

“I told you about the fishing camp’s grand opening tomorrow,” he continued. “This is where we’ll house our guests, right by the pond. I’m living here, so they’ll always have someone handy if they need anything.”

She twisted in the rocker, eyed the pond and the row of cabins. “This is really lovely.”

Her compliment was sincere, and he immediately felt a sense of pride in the Cutters’ first tourist venture. Hopefully the dude ranch would also hit the mark. “Thanks. Reservations are already coming in.”

“Well, your business plan for the dude ranch was impressive. I’m sure the one you did for the fishing camp was equally impressive.”

Even in her tousled state, Dana Brooks exuded elegance, yet John found her oddly easy to talk to. He hadn’t ever held much interest in “city girls.” But right now, ultimate city girl Dana Brooks had his attention, that was for sure.

RENEE ANDREWS

spends a lot of time in the gym. No, she isn’t working out. Her husband, a former all-American gymnast, co-owns ACE Cheer Company, an all-star cheerleading company. She is thankful the talented kids at the gym don’t have a problem when she brings her laptop and writes while they sweat. When she isn’t writing, she’s typically traveling with her husband, bragging about their two sons or spoiling their bulldog.

Renee is a kidney donor and actively supports organ donation. She welcomes prayer requests and loves to hear from readers. Write to her at Renee@ReneeAndrews.com, visit her website at www.reneeandrews.com or check her out on Facebook or Twitter.

Heart of a Rancher

Renee Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.

—Ruth 1:16

This novel is dedicated to my niece,

Blaire Catherine Brown,

my inspiration for John’s niece, Abi.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

“So, when is the city girl going to make an appearance?” Landon Cutter finished cleaning the stalls while John hauled another fifty-pound bag of sweet feed into the barn.

John’s phone beeped before he had a chance to answer his brother. He stacked the bag on top of the others he’d already hauled in, then fished the cell from his pocket and read the text. “How about that, her plane just landed.” He glanced down at his sweat-soaked shirt, work jeans and boots. “Man, I’ve got to take a shower before she gets here.”

“You’ve got plenty of time. It’ll take her a good hour or so to make it to Claremont from Birmingham. Plus, from what I hear, it takes a while to get luggage at the airport.”

John wasn’t certain Landon was all that keen on his bringing in someone as prominent as Dana Brooks to their farm. Landon figured she wouldn’t grasp the concept and appeal of down-home Southern pride. The Brooks family of Chicago rivaled the Trumps in money and influence, so John had also been surprised that the late Lawrence Brooks’s daughter had seen merit in his business plan. In fact, John had sensed an undeniable appreciation in her texts and conversations. And if anyone could sell his dude ranch idea, it was Dana Brooks.

“She didn’t fly into Birmingham. Her plane landed at the local airstrip in Stockville.” John removed his work gloves, slapped them together and tossed them on a shelf in the tack room. “They’ve got a private jet. She should be here in half an hour.”

Landon whistled. “A private jet. Isn’t that something? And she’s coming here to help you start a dude ranch in North Alabama?”

“Reckon I must have won her over with my unique idea and Southern charm.” John’s smile was instant, but he fought to maintain his confidence about the classy lady hopping on a plane to see the ranch firsthand. And she planned to stay for a month, until they got the place up and running. How would he entertain a Chicago socialite on a ranch for four weeks? “I’m going down to the fishing shack to clean up before she gets here.”

“Fishing cabin,” Landon corrected. “And you’d better get used to calling them cabins, or Georgiana is liable to have your hide.”

“Right, my fishing cabin.” John didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the term. Landon’s wife, Georgiana, had the idea to turn the old fishing shacks on their property into something more habitable that would appeal to those interested in an outdoor getaway to fish and relax. Cutter’s Fish Camp had only been open a couple of weeks but was doing great, with regular weekend reservations for five out of six cabins. John was thrilled with the early success, but he still wanted to succeed with his own business plan, the one the bank had so quickly turned down. However, business magnate Dana Brooks had faith in his dude ranch idea...and in John.

He saddled his horse, Red, and started across the fields toward the stocked pond and the fishing shacks—correction—cabins. When Landon married Georgiana, John insisted that the two of them, along with Georgiana’s seven-year-old daughter, Abi, live in the Cutter family home, a two-story log cabin at the center of the property. He, on the other hand, would live in one of the fishing shacks and therefore be nearby whenever a fishing camp guest needed anything. He liked the rustic, compact cabin and the seclusion the place provided from the outside world. True, guests surrounded him when the cabins were rented, but the majority of the time they kept to themselves and he had the perfect place to meditate on God and study for his business degree.

The cabins were multicolored, Georgiana’s idea to paint them similar to Charleston’s Rainbow Row. Being blind, Georgiana often discussed the appeal of color and how she remembered hues from before she lost her sight. Consequently, the cabins were painted with the favorite colors from her memories. John hoped the look would appeal to the city girl, Dana Brooks. His cabin was sage-green and the smallest of the lot. He’d stuck a couple of rockers in the front, and Abi had helped him put blooming plants in big pots on each cabin’s porch, including his own. Riding closer, he took in the colorful cabins, the sky turning turquoise in the early afternoon, the green mountains, the brown water from the pond. The place looked like a postcard or an ad for the newest dude ranch, the only dude ranch, in Alabama.