Lucas had never been much of a drinker and had volunteered to stay behind, knowing from the lawyer that Cass’s niece and beneficiary was due to arrive sometime during the evening hours.
Lucas wanted to get a look, a feel for the woman who would now be their boss. From what he’d heard about her, he wasn’t inclined to be overly impressed.
According to what they’d all been told, Cassandra Peterson was a struggling artist who co-owned a clothing boutique in the Soho area of New York City. She’d probably never seen a cow in her life, and Lucas had a feeling that she wouldn’t stick around long.
No doubt, she’d have the cowboys work to put the place back to right and then she’d sell it. She’d make enough money to never struggle again and could go back to her life in the big city. Unfortunately, that meant Cass’s dream and all of her hard work here would die.
The cowboys would eventually find jobs on other ranches, in other places, but the sense of community, the special bond of family they had shared here for so long, would be lost forever.
Pain shot through him. He remembered all too well what it was like to be alone, to be lost. He’d found a home here with eleven “brothers” and Cass years ago. Now at thirty-one years old, he didn’t want to have to start all over again.
Hopefully he was wrong. Maybe Cassandra would be thrilled with the inheritance of the ranch and want to work it as her aunt had and continue to build on Cass’s dreams.
It would be great if that happened, if she wanted to keep the ranch, live here and work it with the men who had helped to build it into the success it was now.
He straightened as he saw the faint dust rising up on the long dirt lane that led to the ranch. A dark sedan slowly approached, and Lucas’s gut tightened when he realized it probably held the new boss.
The car turned into the ornate black gates with the overhead sign that read The Holiday Ranch. As the car got closer, Lucas could see that there was more than one person in it.
The vehicle, a rental car, pulled up in front of the house and came to a halt. He could see the blonde behind the wheel and realized there wasn’t just another person in the passenger seat, but what looked like a kid in the backseat.
Maybe she wouldn’t be in such a hurry to sell the place after all. Maybe she intended to stay and raise her kid here in the wide-open space of the ranch and the nearby small town of Bitterroot.
The driver door opened, and the minute he caught sight of the bright red high heel that hit the ground, he knew there was no way she would stay. A woman who wore those kinds of la-di-da shoes would never be happy on a big ranch in the middle of nowhere.
The high heel belonged to a short, slender woman who had the same blond hair and bright blue eyes as Cass, but that was the only characteristic she shared with her aunt. She was a pretty thing, but looked fragile and nervous.
Lucas made no move to greet her until the passenger stepped out of the car, along with a little dark-haired boy about six years old. The taller dark-haired woman with eyes the color of new spring grass smiled at him, and an instant wave of heat suffused him.
Cassandra Peterson might be pretty, but the woman she’d brought with her was the stuff of Lucas’s dreams. Long dark hair waved and curled loosely down her shoulders and framed a heart-shaped face with delicate features and those amazing green eyes.
“Mr. Benson?” Cassandra asked.
“No, Adam went into town this evening,” Lucas replied.
“Oh, I understood that he was the foreman here,” she said.
“He is, but all the men went into town and I volunteered to stay behind and get you settled in. I’m Lucas Taylor.” He didn’t bother to attempt to shake her hand, but he did tip his hat. “And you must be Cassandra Peterson.”
“I am.” She turned to the woman and little boy who had joined her. “And this is my friend Nicolette Kendall and her son, Sammy.”
“Nice to meet you all,” Lucas said. He might find Nicolette hot as hell, but she had the slick of the big city on her, too.
The little boy, Sammy, left his mother’s side and stepped up in front of Lucas with a suspicious stare. “Are you a real cowboy?” he asked.
Lucas smiled down at him. “I’m a real cowboy,” he replied.
Sammy looked him over from his head to his toe, and then met Lucas’s gaze with a faint disdain. “My mommy says real cowboys spit and smell like cow poop and never take baths.”
“Is that a fact?” Lucas shot a quick glance at Nicolette, whose cheeks flamed with color. If he had any question about how the two women would fare on the ranch, Sammy’s words confirmed that they were clueless about real cowboys and working ranches.
“The only time I spit is if I get a bug in my mouth, and as far as I know I’ve never smelled like cow poop. But cowboys do only have to take a bath once a week.” Lucas felt a sense of satisfaction wing through him as he watched Sammy slowly process what he’d said.
“Mom, did you hear that?” He ran back to his mother’s side. “Cowboys only take baths once a week. I think I want to be a cowboy.”
“Maybe we should get unloaded and settled in before it gets too dark,” Cassandra suggested. She leaned into the driver door and popped the trunk open.
Although Lucas would have liked to see the two women struggle inside by carrying the mounds of suitcases and tote bags without his help, he knew that would only confirm their misconceptions. Besides, Cass would turn over in her grave if he didn’t do the gentlemanly thing.
He moved to the trunk and grabbed two massive suitcases. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around the house.” They each grabbed a duffle bag and Sammy carried a smaller overnight case and together the four of them walked up the porch stairs and into a small formal living room.
“This room is where Cass would talk to one of us if we did something she didn’t like,” he said. “She didn’t use it for much of anything else.” He dropped the suitcases at the foot of the staircase that led up to the bedrooms and then guided them on through and into the huge great room with the attached large and airy kitchen.
“It’s much nicer than I thought it would be,” Cassandra said.
“Yeah, we’ve even got running water,” he replied drily. He returned to the foot of the stairs and once again picked up the two suitcases. Without waiting to see if they followed, he headed up the stairs.
He heard their footsteps behind him and when he reached the first of the four bedrooms, he turned and immediately found himself face-to-face with Nicolette.
Up close she was even prettier than he’d initially thought, and she smelled like a flowery orchard of apples and pears and a touch of spice that made him want to taste her.
Instead he took two steps backward and motioned toward the bedroom. “This is the smallest and has the two twins. There are two more bedrooms with queen-size beds and the master that has a king. Two baths up here and two downstairs.”
He dropped the suitcases, figuring they could decide bed assignments
