The Rancher's City Girl. Patricia Johns

is mine.” There was something in the rumble of his voice that drew her attention.

      “Really?” She sat up straighter, her gaze moving over the field of green wheat out her window. “All of it?”

      “Out your window is land that I lease out for crops. Out my side—” Cory jutted a thumb in the other direction “—is grazing land for my cattle. Beyond Milk River are some hunting grounds.”

      “Gorgeous,” she breathed.

      His tone was light as he said, “I might be a little biased, but I think this is the most gorgeous land in the country. There is something about the soil that keeps bringing me back home.”

      “You really love living out here.”

      “It’s more than loving a location,” Cory replied. “It’s this ranch. Sometimes a place just becomes a part of you when you aren’t looking.”

      Eloise didn’t know how to answer, so she stayed quiet. She could sense the satisfaction in his voice when he talked about his land, his tone almost reverent. She was a city girl through and through, but cities changed constantly. New buildings went up, old buildings came down. While Billings held her memories from girlhood up to womanhood, it didn’t inspire the same deep attachment that Cory seemed to feel.

      The last few miles slipped by, and Cory slowed as they approached a log arch with a hanging sign that read Stone Ranch. They turned in and followed a meandering drive that led up to a sheltering copse, leaves fluttering in the constant prairie breeze. Beyond the leafy blind sprawled the house, a barn and a paddock. The house was a log ranch style, a long porch sweeping along the front with a couple of rocking chairs sitting empty. The gray barn across the way was more modern, and the paddock where several glossy horses munched hay stretched out in front of the barn. The scene reminded Eloise of pastoral paintings, all serenity in the golden afternoon sunlight. Except for that modern barn—what was it about modernity that ruined a perfectly pastoral scene?

      “Zack and Nora live in the manager’s house down that way,” Cory said, then chuckled. “Never mind. There they are.”

      A man and woman emerged from the gray horse barn, both in jeans with cowboy hats pushed back on their heads. Nora wore a T-shirt with a band logo emblazoned across the front, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Zack smacked a pair of leather work gloves against his thigh, a puff of dust exploding from the material. When they saw the truck, Nora raised her hand in a wave.

      “Welcome back, stranger,” Zack said with a grin as Cory got out of the truck.

      Nora came up to Eloise’s door and gave her a friendly smile and introduced herself. “You must be Eloise.”

      “Yes, that’s me,” she replied, returning the woman’s infectious smile. “You certainly live in a lovely area.”

      “It’s definitely God’s country,” Nora said. “Thanks for coming to help out. No injuries this morning, thankfully, but it’s only a matter of time with the calving.”

      “Can I give you a hand?” Cory asked, poking his head back into the open window of the vehicle.

      “Oh, we can handle it,” Nora replied. “Zack needs to show you a weakening spot in the barn roof. I’ll help Eloise get Mr. Bessler settled.”

      Cory raised his eyebrows at Eloise and she nodded, attempting to look more self-assured than she felt at the moment. “Go. You’re needed. We’ll be fine.”

      Cory grinned. “I’ll be back soon.”

      As the men walked in the direction of the barn, Eloise turned to her patient.

      “This is Robert Bessler.”

      Mr. Bessler smiled wanly in Nora’s direction. “Pleasure.”

      “How are you feeling?” Eloise asked quietly. “How is the pain since I gave you your pills at the diner?”

      “Six.”

      “Do you want more meds now, or after we get inside?”

      “Let’s get inside.” He covered his mouth with the oxygen mask and took a deep breath. “And get me out of this truck. I’m nauseated.”

      Eloise grinned at his comforting bad humor and the two women worked together to get the old man into his wheelchair, and then pushed it toward the main house. Nora walked ahead and dropped a ramp over the stairs just before they reached them.

      “This is handy,” Eloise commented.

      “We’ve been wheelchair accessible ever since Grandpa got sick. Come on in. I’ve got some sandwiches in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

      Mr. Bessler muttered something.

      “What’s that, handsome?” Nora asked, holding the door for them as they came into the cool foyer.

      “I haven’t been called that in at least a decade,” he replied.

      “I don’t believe it.” Nora chuckled. “Well, what can I feed you?”

      Mr. Bessler shook his head. “Not hungry. She made me eat earlier.”

      “A glass of iced tea?”

      The old man shrugged.

      “I’ll take that as a yes.” A few minutes later, after Mr. Bessler had taken his medication, they sat around a pine table, a large pitcher of iced tea between them. Nora sank into the chair opposite.

      “So...” Nora fixed Eloise with a cheerful smile. “Are you single?”

      Eloise laughed. “Cory warned me about you.”

      “Did he, now? Sorry. I don’t imagine you’re a country girl, are you?”

      Eloise shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I was born and raised in Billings and came out to Haggerston to work as a palliative care nurse.”

      Nora’s eyebrows went up, then she glanced toward Mr. Bessler.

      “Yes, I’m dying,” the old man grunted. “You’re allowed to talk about it.”

      “Well, you never know. You might find out you love all this space.”

      “It would be hard not to,” she admitted, glancing out the window.

      “Do you ride horses?” Nora asked.

      “No.” Eloise shook her head. “Cory mentioned teaching me how, but—”

      “Take him up on that.” Nora shot her a grin. “He’s an excellent teacher, and there are women who would give their eye teeth for an offer like that from Cory Stone.”

      There was something in the other woman’s enthusiasm that hinted at more than a simple riding lesson, and Eloise sipped her iced tea to avoid answering. It was flattering to be seen as a romantic option for the rugged cowboy, but Eloise wasn’t exactly “on the market” again after her divorce.

      The side door banged and the sound of men’s voices mingled with the clomp of boots in the mudroom where the men took off their work apparel before coming into the kitchen.

      “There they are.” Nora stood up and headed back to the kitchen counter. “Do you two want a sandwich?” she called.

      Eloise turned to see Cory amble into the kitchen.

      “Robert, can I get you something else?” Cory asked.

      His father shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

      Cory exchanged a look with Eloise and she shook her head ever so slightly. Accepting a sandwich from Nora, Cory slipped into the chair next to Eloise.

      Eloise cast about for a subject of conversation. “This is an interesting old house.”

      “My grandfather built it. I did some renovations when I took the place over, though.”

      Eloise’s