Romancing the Rancher. Stacy Connelly
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a discount for any rental equipment you might need for hunting or fishing.”
He couldn’t have been much plainer about stating she didn’t belong, but for some reason, his noncommittal statement made her smile. Hunting and fishing. Yeah, she’d get right on that.
But Jarrett’s next offer wiped the grin right off her face.
“You’re welcome to the stables, too—”
“I don’t ride.”
His steps slowed even more, bringing them almost to a halt, as he looked over at her. “The rides are based on ability—from advanced to greenhorn. I could show you—”
“Not interested. Sorry.” Her abrupt words didn’t let on just how sorry she was. She wasn’t a greenhorn, as Jarrett had supposed, and had once taken a great deal of pleasure spending time in the saddle, even if her riding had mostly been limited to an indoor jumping arena.
She’d fallen in love with horses as a kid when her parents sent her to a summer camp that offered riding lessons. One trip around a ring on an old gray mare that to her young, impressionable mind was as impressive as Black Beauty, the Black Stallion and Seabiscuit all rolled into one, and she was hooked. Her fascination with horses far outlived the two-week camp, and she’d pestered her parents until they found a riding stable just outside the city. Looking back, she was sure they thought her interest would fade once the summer ended and school started. Instead, the lessons had only been the beginning as Theresa progressed from learning to ride for fun as a kid to jumping in competitions during her high school years.
Now, though, riding was like too many other previous pleasures in her life—a reminder of all she could no longer do. No way could her left leg support her own weight to mount up from the proper side. She didn’t need to try to know she didn’t have the strength for that or the muscle tone needed to grip the saddle with her knees and thighs to keep her balance in the seat. And forget trying to hold on to the reins. One sudden move, and she’d be flat-faced in the dirt.
Oh, sure, Jarrett could probably saddle up some old, sweet-tempered mare whose gait would be as smooth as riding on a child’s merry-go-round. But it wouldn’t be the same. Wouldn’t be the challenge, the thrill, the rush she’d experienced in the past.
And she’d rather do without than settle for so much less.
Fortunately, Jarrett didn’t seem the least bit offended by her blunt refusal. If anything, Theresa thought the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. He’d forced himself to make the offer and was relieved she hadn’t accepted. Why? Because he honestly didn’t think she could keep her seat on a horse and was worried about his first paying guest suing him? Or was it something more? Something to do with the air of reserve that fit him as well as the faded denim jacket stretched across his broad shoulders?
Didn’t matter. He’d made the offer; she’d refused. End of story.
She ignored the slight shift in the wind, a change from the surrounding pine and distant hint of ocean air back to the hay and horses she’d smelled earlier. Both when sitting by herself on the porch and while caught in Jarrett’s arms. His clothes held the earthy scent along with a masculine musk that had tempted her to burrow closer, to breathe deeper.
The thought of riding by his side, showing the former rodeo cowboy what a city girl could do, tortured her. She wasn’t that girl anymore, and indulging in fantasy only made reality that much harder to accept.
Reality being a leg held together by pins and screws, a surgically repaired knee and nerve damage in her arm that left her full recovery—as well as her whole future—in doubt.
“Here’s the cabin,” Jarrett said as they rounded a bend in the narrow road and came across the small cabin. The rustic and rough-hewn logs blended in perfectly with the surrounding wilderness.
Jarrett fished a large key chain fashioned in a crooked R out of his pocket. A metal key was attached. He shouldered the door open, but then paused and waited for her to enter first. Despite her assurances to Sophia that she’d be fine, she breathed a small sigh of relief as she stepped inside.
“It isn’t exactly a luxury suite,” Jarrett said as he lowered her luggage and waved a hand around the small space. The kitchen was little more than a single row of cabinets, a stove, microwave and refrigerator, everything in basic white. A round table marked the dining room before giving way to the living area. A green love seat and matching chair sat in front of a flat-screen television with only a fireplace on the far wall to offer a little bit of coziness to the otherwise stark space.
“Bedroom and bath are down that hall. Again, nothing fancy.”
“Try not to oversell the place,” Theresa said wryly.
He shrugged. “Just being honest.”
The three words almost sounded like an accusation...or a challenge. Almost as if he knew how hard she’d tried to dismiss that moment on the porch as nothing. But that was ridiculous because it had been nothing, and it wasn’t as if the man could read her mind anyway!
“It’s fine,” she insisted shortly. “I’m not looking for fancy.” She sensed rather than saw the way his gaze focused on her as she looked around the cabin, almost as if he was questioning what she was looking for. “Just a spot to relax and the chance to enjoy some peace and quiet.”
He made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “Peace and quiet, huh? This is a funny place to come for that considering you’re related to half the town.”
“I can count on my family to respect my privacy.”
Theresa turned and met his shadowed gaze. For a crazy moment, thoughts of what the two of them could do with that privacy filled her head. The not-fancy bedroom was just down the hall, and even though she had yet to see inside, she could count on there being a bed.
Her whole life, she’d played things safe. She’d known early on what she wanted from life—to become a nurse and work in an ER—and had followed through with the plan she’d set to accomplish that goal. She’d studied hard and worked hard, and she never let distractions get in her way. If she were totally honest, even her relationship with Michael had been a step toward a personal goal—one to get married and start a family.
And yet for all her careful planning, for all the steps she’d taken in the right direction, she’d still ended up here. Miles away from Michael, from her work, from her life, knowing all too well how unlikely it was she would ever get any of them back.
Here. In this cabin with an all-too-sexy cowboy.
She could still feel the imprint of his hands against her shoulders, the warmth and strength that had seeped through in that simple, straightforward touch. Her heart skipped a beat, and her pulse pounded in her ears, and for the first time in longer than she could remember, it wasn’t because she’d pushed too hard in therapy or because she’d taken an awkward step only to catch herself before falling. And it wasn’t from the panic attacks that had woken her more than once as she faced an empty, aimless future.
No, this—this was something else.
This was attraction...desire.
And while that cowboy hat of his might have shielded his expression, it hadn’t been enough to hide what he’d been thinking in that split second when he held her in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her. She’d seen it in his eyes as he’d lowered his gaze. Felt it in the tightening of the muscles that played beneath the palms of her hands. Wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.
But she’d seen something else, too, hadn’t she?
Because Jarrett Deeks hadn’t simply pulled her into his arms. No, she’d practically fallen at his feet, and the idea that she might have mistaken pity for something more doused her heated thoughts faster than an ice bath.
Her voice was sharper than she intended when she said, “My family will give me the privacy I’m looking for. I trust that I can expect you to do the