Page 87 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

My sister would probably do it.

A buzz sounded. At that moment, I hated my phone, because I had to stop touching Brooke to retrieve the device from my pocket and swipe it to life. One glance at Brooke told me that she hadn’t noticed.

Patrick:I’ve got Christopher, Brandon, and the dogs working on the rest of your list.

I smiled. After Patrick had delivered the ice and wrap, I’d sent him and the dogs out to help the other two. He’d apparently gotten them to work faster than usual.

William:Thank you.

Patrick:How is Brooke?

William:She’s sleeping. I’m worried that she’s in shock, so I’m staying with her.

Patrick:Probably wise. I’ll come check on her in a couple of hours.

Patrick’s military experience meant he knew more about first aid than I did. I sent him a thumbs up and put my phone down on the arm of the couch.

The streaming service had cycled to the next episode ofVoyager, and I settled in to watch.

Only my brain wouldn’t stay focused on the plight of the characters. Instead, it kept bouncing between what I wanted to do on the ranch and how much I wanted Brooke in my life. The two were now interconnected, and I couldn’t picture this place without her.

I’d considered asking her to stay on as the manager, but I wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted.

In our time together, I hadn’t been able to draw her plans going forward out of her. Sometimes I felt like she wanted to stay here forever, and other times, she seemed to be anxious to get away.

Why was that?

I’d been thinking about her father and him selling me the ranch. She hadn’t known about it until a few minutes before I’d arrived. It had come as a shock, and I wondered if she had plans for the place.

Anyone else would take the money and run, but she didn’t seem to care about an inheritance. She sincerely loved working the ranch.

Was I taking away her identity? Would she tell me if I was?

I studied her profile, my eyes outlining her forehead, her stubby nose, and her full lips before diving around her chin and onto her neck.

She’d been to law school but had left early. She’d graduated but hadn’t ever gotten a job in that field. Curiosity had driven me to the internet where I’d found that she was certified to practice law here in Texas. That meant she’d kept her license current, but I’d seen zero evidence that she wanted to be a lawyer.

What did Brooke desire to do with her life?

My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the over-the-top country décor. For some reason it still felt like a façade. Especially after today. Brooke hated cows. I wanted to rip that façade away and see what was underneath. Who was Brooke Shaw? What did she really want? What would she do to get it? Could I be a part of it too?

I let out a sigh and closed my eyes. This was her world. Mine was in New York.

Was it?

The question echoed through my mind, and I let my thoughts wander.

I was good at what I did, but I spent all day at work looking forward to the next time I could be with the horses.

This wasn’t an avenue that I should explore. The family expected me to carry on the William Harris tradition of success. I couldn’t just step out of that role, not when I’d been groomed for it my whole life. I felt as if I’d pledged myself to this course, and if I strayed, I’d be betraying everything I loved.

Brooke tensed for a moment, and my attention was drawn to her.

Not everything you love.

I certainly had feelings for this amazing woman, but could I allow myself to pursue them? How could I be sure that I wouldn’t end up hurting her like my dad had hurt my mom and so many other women in his life? I’d shown tendencies toward that behavior since arriving here, and I would hate myself if I ever caused her pain.

Brooke let out a sigh and relaxed again.

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