Jessica Nelson - Love on the Range

He stepped forward until he towered over her. She was tall for a woman, with curves that couldn’t be hidden beneath the popular dresses, but there was something about her large doe eyes and thick brown curls that caught him unaware.

Then there was the contrast between her tendency to chatter and her ability to hold an intelligent conversation on a number of topics. At least what he’d observed during meals. He’d considered her a decent woman. Sure, he’d only known her a bit but he usually counted himself a good judge of character.

And Lou liked her.

But, barring Mary, she sounded as superficial as all the other women he’d known.

He stepped forward and Gracie backed up against the wall, rosy lips parting in surprise. He wanted to intimidate her. Unfortunately, she didn’t look cowed, just flustered.

“Do you usually become angry when people do not care for your desert, Mr. Cruz?”

“It’s not your opinion that bothers me but the shallowness inherent in your tone.”

“Me, shallow?” She visibly blanched, and then recovered by lifting her chin. “I apologize for my attitude. I hadn’t meant to offend you. It’s only that I’ve important things to do and instead I am stuck in a desert when I need to find Str—people, lots of people, and I cannot do that here.”

Gut tight, Trevor stepped away from Gracie. He’d heard her slip of the tongue. Considering the intelligence he’d received today, things were going from bad to worse. And now he had to deal with this…socialite. His teeth ground together. He had the sneaking suspicion she thought Oregon was home to old-time sheriffs riding down outlaws.

But beneath anger lurked interest and with effort he reined it in. She was his boss’s niece. Disregarding everything else going on in his life, that was reason enough to back away.

“Too bad you’re stuck here,” he said disdainfully, then spun to leave.

“Wait,” she called after him. “Aren’t you going to tell me why you’re so angry?”

Trevor turned and crossed his arms.

“Connie tells me I’m a good listener. She shares all her little dramas with me.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “It’s true. Connie has tons of men trouble.” Nodding, she tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Most people grow defensive because they’ve been hurt in some manner. What was I saying that irritated you? That the desert is dreadfully boring? Or was it something else entirely…?” She stopped chattering when he advanced swiftly.

A ferocious need clamored through his chest, locked his jaw.

“Are you angry again? I was just trying to help,” she stuttered, backing up a few steps.

“Gracelyn, I would suggest you go to your room and start a quilt before I do something…unseemly.”

“I assure you, Mr. Cruz, unseemly doesn’t faze me. And my sewing skills are atrocious, anyhow.” She stood rooted to her spot.

Frowning, he crossed his arms. If he suggested she don a pair of trousers and run into the mountains, she probably would, just for the fun of it.

She made a little squeak when he moved closer. Looking flushed and sounding breathless, she said, “You’re an intriguing man. Why aren’t you married yet?”

The hurt that lassoed through him was unexpected. He felt his features freeze into something tight and painful. “You just can’t help being nosy, can you?”

Then he strode down the hall and slammed out the front door into the brisk October breeze.

Chapter Five

Trevor mounted Butch in one smooth move. He nudged the stallion into a hard gallop and set out for his house. He wanted to rid himself of the tension in his shoulders. Confusion didn’t sit well on him. It was an emotion he likened to weakness.

Once at the house he let Butch graze while he grabbed his garden gloves and headed out back to yank persistent weeds from the hard soil.

The garden was his refuge. He could think there, process things. He knelt, his scuffed Levi’s kissing the dark dirt with familiar ease. He began to pull out the unwanted elements of this private world, the earth cool against his fingers. The act of working in the soil relaxed him, making him long for the simplicity that had escaped him for too many years.

He thought of the letter he’d picked up this morning. Life just kept getting more complicated.

Gracelyn Riley. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him? One moment she acted little more than a schoolgirl, brimming with innocent optimism and naivety. The next, her soulful eyes seemed to see straight to his core. For her to ask about marriage…somehow she’d looked right into him and known he was lacking.

If she really possessed the ability to look into a soul, his would surely horrify her.

He sat back and surveyed his small patch of privacy. Not much grew now, not with autumn’s crisp breath cooling the land. Some broccoli, winter squash. The few weeds he’d pulled lay scattered beside him. The rest of the plants sprouted in straight rows across the garden, lined up in pristine order. The way he liked them.

He scowled. It’d be nice if the rest of his life would follow suit. A little less than a week of knowing Gracelyn Riley and it felt as if a tornado had come barreling through his tidy little world, destroying all sense of order and moving everything out of place.

The woman went outside at night, a dangerous habit he planned to report to Lou. Burned the clothes she ironed. Dropped dishes and couldn’t make edible biscuits. Mary oughta convince Gracie to go muck out the stables. Anything to keep the socialite away from the food and clothes.

“Trevor?”

He leaped up, fingers brushing his holster.

“Mary told me where to find you.” Gracie stood at the edge of his garden, hair askew, eyes wide. Her gaze darted around his sanctuary and for a moment he saw it through her eyes. The neat little garden, the rocking chair on the back porch and an endless view of sagebrush land ending in dark mountains situated against bright cobalt sky.

He crossed his arms. “Mary knows better than to send people here. What do you want?”

“Uh, yes.” Her fingers twisted in her skirts and a wary look crossed her face. “I know I’m nosy, have been told it a thousand times or more, but I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“I’m fine.” Trevor pulled his hands down his face, throat suddenly drier than the dirt at his feet. He gestured her toward his house. “I need some water.”

They walked in and he filled two cups before handing one to Gracie. She took it, a slight smile on her face. “You have a beautiful home.”

Trevor grunted and drank from his cup, the cool slide of water relieving his thirst.

Gracie set the glass on the kitchen counter. “Your house inspires good feelings. Are you the one who decorated?” She ran her fingers across the countertop. “Teak, right? So classy, elegant.” Her tone became serious. “I spoke without thinking. I’ve never tried to hurt or offend anyone purposefully with my words. Nevertheless, there is no excuse for my blabbering. Will you forgive me?”

Trevor leaned against the counter and shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. “It’s been a hard day. Broken fences and loose cattle put me in a bad mood.” And a letter that put everything dear to him in danger. “You’ve got nothing to be concerned about.”

Gracie chewed on her lip again, obviously not believing his paltry excuse. “Thank you for the water,” she said. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“We call it supper here.” He shifted his hip against the counter.

Gracie blinked.

Trevor saw her silent scrutiny and had to brace himself. It had been a long time since he’d felt an attraction for a woman. Gracie pulled at his emotions, though, and he stamped the knowledge down with force. There were a lot of reasons not to care for her. He counted them in his head.