Page 23 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
“I live on High C Ranch, north of town. Follow the road along the river for about two miles, and you’ll eventually reach our place. There’s a sign above the gate you can’t miss.”
Yes, this woman was most definitely Clarabelle’s sister.
He politely extricated himself from the store and managed to reclaim his horse at the livery before Grady returned. Franz was relieved when he was finally on his way to see Clarabelle and the children. He hadn’t bothered to stay and purchase the books—would save that for another day when neither Clementine nor Grady was in the store.
As he reached the lane and turned down it toward the cabin, his heart pounded with a rush of anticipation. Afterthe interaction with Clementine, he wasn’t sure what to expect with Clarabelle. What if he’d only just imagined the attraction yesterday? Even if it had been there, what if it were gone now?
He could see Clarabelle and the children at the far side of the strawberry field, busy at work pulling weeds.
Bianca was the first to notice him. She pushed up and waved both arms, jumping up and down. Dieter stood next, and Clarabelle sat back on her heels, pausing in her work as she watched his approach.
Today she had on a wide straw hat that tied under her chin with a blue ribbon. She wore a simple blue skirt and blouse, but even from a distance, she radiated beauty and gentleness and peace—so much so that the worry pinging through his head seemed to fade into silence.
He rode his horse past the house and the barn, too eager to be near her to stop. Upon reaching the edge of the field, he slid down from his mount. The children had already wound through the plants to meet him. Clarabelle was standing and watching them, as though uncertain what kind of greeting would be appropriate.
He interacted for several moments with the children, crouching in front of them, listening to their tales of how they’d awoken to find a fox stalking the chicken coop and how Clarabelle had fired a shot into the air to scare it away.
When he couldn’t bear the distance from her a second longer, he rose and started across the field toward her. With one of the children’s hands in each of his own, they stepped carefully so as not to disturb the plants.
“Good morning,” he said to her when he was only a dozen paces away.
She tilted up the wide brim of her hat to reveal her innocent eyes. Eyes that were filled with quiet patience and steady loyalty and gracious welcome.
And beauty . . .
His pulse picked up its pace and began to race as fast as a thoroughbred on the last course. She was stunning with the morning sunlight cascading over her, turning her hair to golden fire and her eyes to a lush green that rivaled the thick fields.
Even though she looked nearly identical to Clementine, he wasn’t sure how he’d mistaken her. There was no comparison. Clarabelle was in a world of her own, where no one or nothing could begin to equal her.
“Good morning.” She offered him a shy smile, as if she’d heard his thoughts. Or perhaps she’d seen the attraction flaring in his eyes.
“I met your twin this morning.”
“You did?”
“From behind I thought she was you.”
“When we were little, we used to fool even our parents.”
“As soon as she turned, I recognized the differences nearly right away.”
“It’s easier to tell us apart now that we’re adults.” Clarabelle lifted a hand to her face to wipe at her cheek. Her fingers were soiled and left a streak behind.
Gott in heaven, have mercy upon his poor soul. She was so beautiful at this moment, standing among the flowering strawberry plants, even with her smudges.
He needn’t have worried about having only imagined his reaction to her. Everything he’d been feeling for her yesterday was sparking with even more energy. The magnetic field between them was indeed very real and strong. It was pulling him toward her with a power that he seemed helpless to resist—not that he wanted to resist her.
He was already hopelessly and helplessly captivated by this woman.
9
She’d never met a man like Franz Meyer.
With the darkness of evening settling in, he’d left for town. Clarabelle stood with the children halfway down the lane, where they’d walked with him before he’d mounted and started on his way.
She’d thought the previous day had been wonderful, but today had been even more perfect. From the moment Franz had arrived, everything had seemed to fall into place with the world, as if she hadn’t truly been awake and alive until he’d crossed the strawberry field and told her good morning.
He’d knelt among the plants and helped with the weeding. When they’d finished, they’d gone into the cabin, and she’d made a fresh pot of coffee and kept him supplied while he’d instructed the children with methods she’d never witnessed before, using manipulatives and demonstrations, even taking them outside and using real life illustrations.
