Cari Webb - The Rancher's Rescue

“Soup would be perfect.” She shifted her boots up onto the seat and set her cheek on her knees.

“We can head back now, if you’d rather.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

Nothing about the push she gave him on the shoulder was weak or frail. Still, he hesitated to leave her.

She pushed him again and said, “Go. You’ll have one less thing to do tomorrow.”

Ethan hurried to fix the fence and loaded up the ATV. He peeked at Grace, took in her pinched lips and the circles under her eyes. He hadn’t meant to make her anxious when they’d talked about their night together, or sick, when he’d joked about them eating snake.

That he might’ve hurt her made him twitchy inside. For now, he’d table the conversation and come back to it later. Even better, he’d let her take the lead. If she wanted to dissect more about their evening together, then he’d listen and be there. Until then, he’d keep his mouth closed.

He gripped the steering wheel harder, but his first instinct was to grab her hand as if he wanted to comfort her. As if he had a right to hold her.

She’d asked if their night together had been something more than what it was. He wasn’t sure. The only thing he wanted to do was hold her hand now.

But even if he’d wanted something more with Grace, it wasn’t possible. It was impossible. He had nothing to offer but résumés, an uncertain future and an empty bank account. Grace deserved a lot more than that.

Silence rode between them on the drive back to the ranch. Less than five minutes was needed to introduce Grace to Big E’s accounting system, leaving Ethan to prepare dinner in Zoe’s extravagantly expensive pink wonderland.

Unfortunately, as a kid, he’d been more worried about shoveling food into his mouth before his brothers stole it from his plate than considering how it was made. He’d never wandered into the kitchen to help his mom. He’d only ever wandered into the kitchen to snatch a cookie or bag of chips.

After his parents had died, they all learned meals didn’t just appear on the table. Big E had assigned a night for each one of the boys to prepare dinner for the family. That was when Ethan had figured out a handful of quick recipes that required one pot and little preparation. Chicken soup remained his go-to staple.

Soup reheated and ladled into bowls, Ethan carried dinner into Big E’s office on a tray.

Grace looked up from a pile of receipts that covered every inch of Big E’s oversize oak desk. “It might be easier to eat in the kitchen.”

“In here is fine.” He ate every night in the office, in the same leather chair. This was the only room that suited him. Even his childhood bedroom, which he’d shared with Ben and had once contained a bunk bed fort and countless army men, now resembled a giant box of glitter. He’d spent his first night in the room wondering how much the floor-to-ceiling silver curtains that shimmered like waterfalls had cost. He’d moved into Cabin Six after that and hadn’t returned to his childhood room since.

He placed Grace’s soup and crackers beside her. Setting his soup on top of the receipts, he pulled the leather chair closer to the desk and sat down.

“Is there something wrong with the kitchen?” Grace asked.

Ethan crushed crackers into his soup. “It’s cold.” Too pink. Too frivolous. Too dollhouse happy.

“It’s updated and modern with every convenience sold on the market today.” Her eyebrows pulled together behind her glasses. “A chef’s dream.”

But not his mother’s dream. He couldn’t find his mother in the house anymore and that put a chill inside the walls that couldn’t be driven out with a roaring fire. He scooped up a pile of receipts from beneath his bowl and dropped them on the side table. “We can eat and work. It’ll go faster with the two of us. What are you doing anyway?”

Grace pushed up her glasses and used her spoon to stir her soup. “Putting the receipts into piles by year.”

Soup bowls scraped clean and receipts organized, Ethan eased back in the leather chair and watched Grace’s fingers fly over a circa-1970s calculator complete with a roll of white paper. The pencil in her other hand scribbled across a legal notepad. “You’re good at this.”

“I should be. It’s my profession.” Grace tapped the pencil against her temple. “Certified public accountant with a master’s degree in accounting.”

“Impressive.” Ethan steepled his hands and set them under his chin. He pictured her inside her cramped office with the equally compact metal desk. She’d seemed smaller inside that office. Now she seemed to own Big E’s desk and the entire space. He decided she belonged in an office she could command. “You should have your own business.”

“That’s in the works.” Her fingers paused on the calculator, a look of surprise in her wide eyes. “But that isn’t public knowledge. I’d appreciate you not talking about it.”

“But you’re a staple at the store,” he said. Grace had been working at Brewster’s since they’d been kids. Everyone always knew she would be there. Everyone also knew if they needed something, they only had to find Grace. Always Grace.

Grace’s entire face twisted into a grimace as if he’d called her the unwanted sweet potato hash on his plate. “I have more to offer than inventory spreadsheets and special orders.”

“I agree.” Grace was unexpected, like those over-easy eggs on his sweet potato hash.

Grace fumbled with her pencil and adjusted her glasses as if Ethan had messed with her paperwork.

Ethan let her fall back into her number crunching while he tried not to fall into the surprise of Grace Gardner. He listened to her fingers tapping on the calculator keys and the paper rolling out.

“Staring at her is not helping the ranch out.” Katie stood in the doorway and peered around a stack of folded bedsheets in her arms. “But making beds in the lodge will.”

“I don’t want to make beds.” He wanted to stay right where he was. With Grace.

Katie dumped the stack of linens on Ethan’s lap. “I didn’t want to iron and look how that turned out.”

Ethan ran his hand over the smooth top sheet. “Nice job.”

“They’ll look even better on the beds.” Katie smiled and turned to Grace. “Thanks for the help, Grace. If you need anything, I’ll be in the barn. Ethan will be in the guest lodge.”

“Looks like the team leader has spoken and I have more work to do.” Ethan stood and balanced the sheets so he wouldn’t drop them. “Grace, text me before you leave.”

Grace glanced at him, her gaze distracted, her smile distant. “Sure.”

Katie rushed around Ethan. “Let me get the back door for you.”

“Thanks,” Ethan muttered as he left the study.

“Wouldn’t want you sneaking back into the office for more one-on-one time with Grace,” Katie joked.

“We were working.”

“Grace was working.” Katie swung open the back door, but caught Ethan’s arm before he left. “I don’t know what you were doing, Eth. Pining, maybe?”

“I’ve never pined in my life.” He bumped his shoulder into hers as he stepped outside. “I was half asleep and you ruined my nap.”

“Whatever.” Katie kept pace beside him as he lengthened his stride down the back porch steps. “What’s up with you and Grace? You can tell me. I’m practically your sister.”

“Leave it alone, Katie.” Ethan turned toward the guest lodge and smiled. Hip wasn’t allowed at the lodge and he knew Katie wouldn’t tag along without her dog. “Get back to work or I’ll have to fire you for laziness.”

“You wouldn’t survive a day without me,” she countered.

“An hour.”

“What?”

He faced her and tried to look stern. “I wouldn’t survive an hour out here without you, but don’t let it go to your head.”