Page 16 of The Cattleman's Unforgettable Love

“Don’t make a fool of me then, would ya? The last thing I need is having to get the hands to help me round up a runaway who should never have been allowed to free walk.”

The horse blew out a sigh and stepped toward him. When he rested his chin on Ford’s shoulder and blew out another, longer sigh, Ford knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d be able to trust him.

Chapter Four

When she got back to the ranch house – the big house, as they called it – she was disappointed but not surprised to see that there was no sign of Ford’s truck. She didn’t know if he had an official time that he finished work – she guessed he didn’t – but she hadn’t known him to get home this early.

That hadn’t stopped her from hoping he might be here.

She parked around the back of the house in what was effectively a parking lot. The ranch hands left their trucks, cars, and motorbikes there. There was usually a tractor or some other farm vehicle, too.

It struck her that, rather than feeling like she was just another person in the crowd who came and went around here, parking her non-descript rental sedan amongst the eclectic mix of vehicles made her feel like one of the gang.

Perverse, perhaps – but true.

When she let herself in through the kitchen door, it occurred to her that if she could manage to see it that way, she kind of belonged more than most. No one else came and went freely from the house like this. Well, of course the family did — but not the people who worked here. Even Shayna, Ty’s fiancée, who she’d met the other day, had been taping a note to the door rather than just coming inside to leave it.

She’d laughed and looked a little embarrassed when Amelia had found her there and invited her in. She’d explained that she knew she was welcome, but she still didn’t feel quite comfortable to just waltz in when no one else was around.

Amelia slung the strap of her bag over the back of one of the chairs at the big kitchen table. It struck her that, strangely enough, she herself felt perfectly at home here – and even stranger that she should use that phrase.

She’d normally describe herself as feeling at ease in a space, not at home.

She looked around the kitchen, wondering if she should attempt to make something for dinner. She wasn’t the most domestic of people, but she could probably manage to fix something if she set her mind to it.

She opened the fridge to peek inside and see if there was anything in there that might inspire her mostly dormant inner chef.

She laughed at the sight of an enormous pizza sitting on the middle shelf, with a Post-it note stuck on top:

Thought we could have this for dinner. One of the hands went to

the take-and-bake store in town. I asked him to get one for us, too.

Hope you like pepperoni. I should be back by six – but if you’re

hungry, bake it whenever you’re ready.

She stuck the note to her finger and smiled as she closed the fridge door.

Ford had been more than accommodating since she arrived – especially considering that he’d thought she was only here for a weekend visit, and she’d ended up staying indefinitely. They hadn’t really had the chance to establish a routine yet. She promised herself that she’d make more of an effort to take care of him.

He’d already cooked for her one night, brought a plate up for her from the bunkhouse another night – and now, even on a ranch thirty miles from the closest pizza store, he’d made sure that she’d be able to have the Friday night pizza she’d told him she enjoyed so much.

He was the kind of guy who not only picked up on little details, but also acted on them, it seemed. She was going to have to figure out ways she could do something for him, too. She didn’t want him to think he was the only one making an effort – or that she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t make an effort.

She took her laptop out of her bag and set it on the kitchen table.

After a few minutes of searching online, she had to admit that she didn’t know enough about what he liked to be able to order him a meaningful gift. She made a face when she realized that if she wanted to buy Cash something, she’d have lots of ideas – that 18-year-old Macallan she’d mentioned earlier was the first obvious candidate. But with Ford, she didn’t even know what he liked to drink. He’d given her a glass of brandy the other night, but she didn’t know if brandy was his drink of choice. And even if it was, she didn’t know what brand he preferred. She glanced over at the liquor cabinet. She could go take a peek, but even then, she wouldn’t know if what he had in there was something special to him or just the generic stuff.

She blew out a breath.

During the course of their day together tomorrow, she was going to find out as many little details about him as she could. With that decided, she closed her online shopping search and clicked over to the forum where she liked to hang out online. It was one of the few places where she felt at home amongst her peers – computer security experts, known by some as hackers, by others as geeks – and always underestimated by anyone who didn’t understand how much power they actually held.

She was surprised to see a new private message in her inbox. She didn’t often get into private conversations on there – she was more about the group chat, helping each other solve problems. She didn’t come for the social aspect, but rather to use and sharpen her skills. She clicked on the message with an inexplicable sense of trepidation.

There was no reason she should feel that way – but all the little hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.

Strangely, she wouldn’t describe whatever she was feeling as fear. The word that came to mind was intuition.

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