Page 25 of Last Chance for Her Rancher Boss

“It looks great,” she said, and it was the absolute truth. “Even without curtains.”

Meg pretended she didn’t notice the redness flaring around Nash’s collar again.

“I just always liked the old one, you know?” Nash said, scratching the back of his head. “And Ihadplanned to be here the rest of my life, so I figured I’d rebuild it. This one’s a bit nicer though. But I figured if someday I had kids running around theplace, I wanted them to have a reallynicetreehouse. The old one was great, but I am surprised neither of us got tetanus.”

Meg laughed, because he was right. It was a miracle that neither of them ever ended up in the hospital from a rusty nail. But the laughter died off pretty quickly. She imagined the ranch getting bought out by the company. A company that would see no profitable reason to keep an old oak tree standing, let alone a treehouse. She knew how they worked; this tiny little sanctuary in the branches would be bulldozed within weeks.

She bent down a little and looked out at the view, mostly to distract herself from such dismal thoughts.

“Wow…”

“Pretty nice, huh?” Nash said smugly.

Pretty nice was a pathetic understatement. Just a few yards off the ground made a whole world of difference when looking out at the land. Even the colors seemed brighter from up here. Meg’s attention was taken by the hills on the edge of the ranch that, until now, hadn’t inspired much interest in her. But now she noticed the structures peppered around the place that she hadn’t seen before.

“What are those buildings?” she asked. Nash didn’t even need to look out the window to know what she was talking about.

He sat down against the wall, his wrists resting on his knees. “That’s theoldfarm, where whoever had first lived here, however many generations ago, originally set up. My uncle rebuilt on a flatter surface because it was ‘more convenient’ apparently.”

“Yeah. Building a whole new set of buildings seems way more convenient than driving up a hill,” Meg said, bemused, looking out at the old buildings.

“I never said he was sane,” said Nash.

“So are we going to go and have a look?” she asked.

“Why?”

Meg raised her eyebrows. “I’m supposed to be evaluating the place. I figure my bosses will want to know about a whole extra set of buildings up on the hill.”

She regretted mentioning the evaluation. It seemed to deflate the good mood that had been growing between them all afternoon. Nash didn’t show much of a reaction, but his expressive shoulders sagged a little before he sighed and hauled himself to his feet.

“Yeah, let’s go and have a look.”

“We don’t have to,” Meg said, suddenly desperate to keep this good feeling between them.

“No, it’ll be fun,” Nash said with a smile. Meg couldn’t figure out if it was real or not. “I haven’t been up there in years. I should probably go check it out.”

Feeling guilty, Meg followed him down the ladder, which was much easier than climbing up it. But by the time she was back in the saddle, she’d stamped that guilt out, pushing it far away.

She was here to do a job. She knew that. Nash knew that. This wasn’t a vacation. She was here to do ajob.

It seemed she needed to remind both of them of that.

They rode in silence, but thankfully it didn’t veer back into that uncomfortable quiet that they’d been stuck in before. Mostly they were quiet because on horseback, heading up the hill to the old house and sheds was a lot steeper than it looked from a distance. Suddenly, Nash’s uncle relocating to a flatter part of the property didn’t seementirelycrazy.

They dismounted and hitched the horses to one of the fences that was still in surprisingly good condition. There was an old cottage, much smaller than the house Nash lived in now, a couple of sheds the same size as the cottage and a barn.

The buildings were old, for sure, and they definitely wore the signs of their abandonment, but they were still in pretty good shape, considering. The wood they were made from was still strong, with no sign of rot.

“Do you reckon we can head inside without the roof falling in on our heads?” Nash asked, peering around the outsides of the structures with a critical eye.

“They look really good,” Meg said. She wasn’t a builder, not anything close. But they reallydidlook good.

“They actually do,” Nash said, mirroring her thoughts. “All right… c’mon.”

He opened the door to the cottage, its hinges squeaking unsurprisingly. Meg followed a few seconds later when there was no sign of the roof caving in.

The wordoldkept springing to mind. Old, old, old. This was the sort of place she’d imagined she’d be inspecting when she’d taken this assignment.

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