Kissed by a Rancher. Sara Orwig
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be too long for that old-fashioned sofa. Would you rather sleep on the floor?”
“I’ll be fine. Just to have a roof over my head is paradise. I don’t mind my feet hanging off the sofa,” he said, smiling at her. Once again he received a riveting look that momentarily immobilized him until she turned away.
“I’ll get your towels,” she said and left. He watched her cross the hall and disappear into a room. She returned to hand him clean towels and washcloths.
“If you’ll come with me, you can register.”
Josh followed her to the front desk of polished dark wood with scratches from what must have been years of use. He glanced around at the decorative staircase rails. “This place looks Victorian.”
“It is. It’s been in my family for five generations now.” She turned a ledger toward him. “Please sign your name. I’ll need a credit card. Since you’ll be on the sofa, I’ll just charge you a discounted rate. Here are the rates and details about staying here,” she added, handing a paper to him. “And here’s a map of the inn and a map of the town of Beckett, although you won’t be leaving tomorrow, because we’re supposed to get a lot more snow and possibly sleet.”
“No, I’m stuck probably through tomorrow at least.”
“Everything has shut down—highways, roads and businesses will be closed tomorrow. They’ve already had the announcements on television and said schools will be closed Monday.” She reached under the desk and produced a small flashlight. “We heard on the radio that half the town is without power because of ice on electric lines. I’m giving all the guests flashlights. This is an old house, and candles are dangerous.”
“Thanks.” Pocketing the flashlight, Josh barely glanced at the papers she handed him as he studied her instead. Her smooth, flawless skin and rosy cheeks added to her appeal. What was it about her that fueled this tingling awareness of her? It wasn’t her personality, because he barely knew her and had spoken with her only briefly. Her fuzzy sweater came to her thighs and hid her figure, so that wasn’t the electrifying draw. She was a nice person who was being helpful. That should be all. Instead, he had a scalding awareness of her that made him think about asking her out, fantasize about dancing with her and holding her, and wonder what it would be like to kiss her and make love with her. She was providing shelter and comfort; maybe it was his long hours of work over the past few days and now the storm that caused his reaction to her. He had slept little for over a week.
When she turned the register around, she read what he had signed. “This gives a Dallas address. Do you consider Dallas home instead of Verity?”
“I live and work in Dallas most of the time. I also have a ranch in west Texas. The closest town is Verity,” he replied. She nodded as she gathered more papers to hand to him.
“So you’re a hobby rancher,” she said.
“Yes, at least for now. Someday I’ll move to the ranch and do that full-time and let someone else run the hotel business for me. I go to the ranch when I get a chance, but that rarely happens,” he admitted, thinking there weren’t many people who knew he missed ranching and wondering why he was telling a stranger.
“Here’s the schedule for tomorrow,” she said. “Normally breakfast runs from seven-thirty until 9:00 a.m. Since no one can get out tomorrow, we’ll start at 8:00 a.m. and go until nine-thirty.”
“Thanks. The breakfast time is fine.”
“I’ll be going back to join the others now unless you have anything else you want to ask me about,” she said, looking up, those wide eyes capturing his full attention again.
“Thanks, no. I’ll follow you.”
“We’ve been singing. I play the piano or leave it to a guest.”
They entered a large living room that ran almost the length of the east side of the house and was furnished in early American maple with a hardwood floor and area rugs. A fire burned low in the fireplace, adding to the inviting appeal of the room. Two small children slept in adults’ arms. Five children sprawled on the floor or in an adult’s lap. A couple of men stood to offer Abby a seat. Smiling, she thanked them and asked the men to sit.
“We’ve been waiting. Let’s sing some more,” someone said.
“Folks, this is another guest—Josh Calhoun of Dallas, Texas,” Abby said, smiling and glancing at him while he acknowledged her introduction with a nod and wave of his hand.
People said hi as Abby crossed the room to slide onto the piano bench. She played a song Josh had heard his grandmother play, a song from his childhood that he was surprised to discover he still knew when he joined in the singing.
As they sang, he watched her play. She was not his type in any manner, other than being a woman. He couldn’t understand his reaction to her. She was plain, with her hair in an unflattering thick ponytail, and she wore no makeup. She ran a bed-and-breakfast inn in a small west Texas town. He would never ask her out.
He looked out the window at the howling storm blowing heavy snow in horizontal waves. Snowflakes struck the warmer storm window, melted slightly, slid to the bottom and built up along the frame. It was a cozy winter scene, but he wished he were flying home tonight.
Relaxing, he leaned back in the chair and sang with the others while he reflected that he hadn’t experienced an evening like this in years. He felt as if he had stepped back to a different time and way of life, and he began to relax and enjoy himself.
After another half hour, Abby turned and slid off the piano bench to take a bow. “That should do for tonight’s songfest. Does anyone want hot chocolate? If so, I’ll be glad to make some. The entertainment room is open, and Mr. Julius said he will be in charge of the movie. Right now, for hot cocoa, just come to the kitchen.”
She left the room. People followed her out until Josh was the only one left. He turned off all the lights except one. He sat again, stretching out his legs and leaning back to gaze at the snow. A few red embers of the dying fire glowed brightly in gray ashes.
He heard tapping and looked again at the window. Sleet struck the glass, building up swiftly on top of the snow at the bottom. He placed his hands behind his head. He couldn’t go anywhere or do anything for the rest of the night and probably all day tomorrow. As a peaceful contentment filled him, he thought that an unplanned holiday had befallen him, and he intended to enjoy it.
“You don’t want any hot chocolate?”
He glanced around to see Abby entering the room. As he stood, she motioned to him to be seated. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m enjoying the quiet and the storm now that I’m inside and it’s outside. I’m beginning to think I’m getting a much-needed vacation.”
“That’s a good way to look at being stranded. I usually let the fire burn out this time of night. Did you plan to sit here a lot longer?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Let the fire die. I’ll turn out the light when I go. If you aren’t going to watch the movie, sit and join me,” he said.
“Thanks. I will while I can. Mr. Julius knows how to deal with the movie.”
“My cabdriver said you’re single. This is a big place to run by yourself.”
“I’m definitely not by myself,” she said, smiling as she sat in a rocker. “I have a long list of people I can rely on for help. I have a brother and a sister nearby, and my grandmother lives here part of the time. I can turn to her for advice if I need it because she used to own and run this place.”
“So there are three kids in your family?”
“Right. I’m the oldest. The next is my brother, twenty-year-old Justin, in his second year at a nearby junior college on an academic scholarship. He helps with the bed-and-breakfast and lives at home with Mom. Arden, the youngest at seventeen, is a junior in high school, and she also works here at the inn and lives at home. What about you?”