Romancing the Rancher. Stacy Connelly

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Название Romancing the Rancher
Автор произведения Stacy Connelly
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Cherish
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474001328



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room. What would it be like, he wondered, to have family surround you when you needed them most?

      The thought reminded him of the message his half sister had left on his cell phone the other day, but he shoved it aside. Too bad he couldn’t delete the memory as easily as he’d deleted the message. Summer wanted to come to California to help him with the rental cabins. He gave a silent snort of laughter. In his family, any offer of help always came with strings attached, and he was glad he’d cut all ties years ago—even if his half sister refused to accept that.

      Theresa was lucky to have people around who cared about her for no other reason than the love they felt.

      “I know. But your sister was here to bring Theresa groceries right after she arrived,” Jarrett pointed out. “And then Drew and Debbie stopped by yesterday.”

      He couldn’t complain too much about their arrival when Debbie, the local baker, had brought along a dozen to-die-for chocolate cupcakes and assured him Theresa wouldn’t mind sharing. Which only meant Debbie gave him one of the miniature cakes. It did not mean Theresa would feed him with her slender fingers or that he’d get a chance to taste the rich, decadent chocolate straight from her lips—two images that had sprung to mind at the innocent comment.

      “So?” Nick asked defensively enough for Jarrett to know he was well aware of where this was heading.

      “So, if your cousin came here to have some time by herself, maybe you should give it to her and quit...hovering. You know as well as I do that the worst thing you can do with a skittish animal is hem her in.”

      The other man’s scowl deepened into a glower. “My cousin is not a skittish animal.”

      Yeah, Theresa probably wouldn’t think much of the comparison, either, Jarrett thought wryly. “All the more reason why I shouldn’t be the one looking out for her.”

      * * *

      Self-discovery, Theresa decided as she gazed at her reflection in the foggy medicine cabinet mirror hanging above the bathroom sink, sucked.

      For all her talk about alone time and needing the opportunity to focus on what she wanted for the future, so far she’d come to only two conclusions. One, she didn’t really like being by herself. And two, all she wanted for her future was the life she’d had in the past.

      She hadn’t expected staying alone at the cabin to be such a big deal. After all, she lived by herself. After a rough shift at the ER dealing with doctors, other nurses and patients, surrounded by a cacophony of sound—phones, pagers, voices over the intercoms, the beep of various monitors—by the end of the day, all she wanted was to go home and wrap herself in the peace and quiet of her cozy apartment. To enjoy the sweet relief from the stress and fast pace of the outside world.

      Here, there was no outside world. At least, not a world Theresa was familiar with. She glanced at the window above the tub. Blue skies peeked through the softly swaying pines. Outside, the peace and quiet of the cabin was nothing but...more peace and quiet. So much of both that she was ready to scream. Just to give herself a break from it all.

      And the sorriest part, she thought as she hit her wet, shoulder-length hair with the warmth of the blow-dryer, was that in the three days since she’d arrived, some member or another of her extended family had dropped by to visit, the most recent being her aunt and uncle.

      They had shown up with the explanation that they wanted Theresa to have a vehicle while she was staying in the cabin. She was grateful even if she didn’t have anywhere to go, and the need to escape only increased the longer her aunt and uncle stayed.

      Her uncle Vince was a younger, slightly mellower version of her father. Both men were dedicated to their families, friends and neighbors. But just like whenever her father looked at her, Theresa could sense the concern behind her uncle’s dark gaze. At least the older men in her family were the type to worry in silence. Not so much with her mother—or her aunt.

      Vanessa had hovered over Theresa during the entire visit. How was she feeling? Was she sleeping all right? Did she have enough to eat? Was she keeping up with her exercises every day? Was she pushing herself too hard?

      All that was bad enough. Worse were the questions she couldn’t answer.

      “What are your plans for when you go back to work? Your mother says you have an opportunity to go back to school for a career in hospital administration. Do you think you’ll start classes soon?”

      Following the accident, Theresa had been put on medical leave. That time would be up soon, and although she would be able to get an extension, she wondered what would be the point. Would a few more weeks make a big enough difference for her to be back to normal?

      She shut off the blow-dryer and ran a brush through her hair. She caught the thick mass to one side and automatically reached up to start a simple braid, but the dark strands slid through the stiff fingers of her left hand. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried again. And again, and again.

      She’d learned to braid her hair when she was seven years old and now—

      Frustration tightened her body, and she clenched her jaw to hold back the urge to swear, to scream, to cry. Normal? Yeah, she didn’t think so, and clearly her mother didn’t, either.

      Tossing her hairbrush back into the vanity drawer with more force than necessary, she left her hair loose around her shoulders and stepped into the bedroom to finish dressing.

      Donna Pirelli had never been thrilled with her only daughter’s career choice. Oh, she was proud that Theresa was a nurse, but she’d never liked the idea of Theresa working the long shifts in a downtown St. Louis hospital. The atmosphere in the emergency room was undeniably stressful, with people brought in after car accidents or medical emergencies like heart attacks or strokes. And then there were the other patients—victims of gunshot wounds or stabbings, not to mention drunks and drug addicts so out of their minds they were a danger to themselves—and to others.

      So, yes, Theresa understood why her mother would prefer her to have a desk job dealing with policy and procedure rather than patients. And she told her aunt the same thing she always told her mother. “I’m still thinking about it.”

      Thinking how much she hated the very idea.

      And just like her mother, her aunt hadn’t been satisfied with that answer. Fortunately, her uncle had taken the hint and had reminded his wife that they needed to get back to town.

      She’d felt both grateful and guilty when they left—an awkward combination of feelings she was almost getting used to when it came to her family. But while their leaving meant she didn’t have to answer any more questions about her future, it didn’t mean the questions went away. If anything, they only sounded louder in the small cabin’s overwhelming silence.

      “I have got to get out of here,” she muttered as she sank onto the bed and shoved her feet into a pair of already-tied tennis shoes to go with her worn jeans and St. Louis Cardinals sweatshirt.

      Jarrett had meant what he said when he told her the bedroom and bath weren’t fancy. The furnishings were obviously new—from the queen-size bed with its neutral beige comforter to the matching oak nightstand and build-it-yourself dresser. But the stark walls and emptiness of the place were driving her crazy.

      He’d also kept his promise to leave her alone, making her apology impossible to give.

      She carefully pushed off the bed. One wrong move could still send white-hot bolts of pain shooting up and down her left leg, and she held her breath as she waited for the pull and protest of the weakened muscles. Was it wishful thinking or was the tightness easing just a little? She’d been keeping up with her exercises within the bare walls of the cabin, but a walk would do even more good, she decided as she left the car keys on the kitchen counter and stepped onto the porch.

      It had rained sometime during the night, the fresh scent lingering in the damp morning air. Clouds hovered over the peaks of the distant mountains. Drops of rainwater clung to the pines and sparkled in the filtered sunlight. Sophia was right about the gorgeous scenery,