Redeeming the Rancher. Deb Kastner
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“That sounds like a great career path,” Alexis admitted. “And if he’s done that well for himself, maybe you’re right. Maybe he won’t really want to walk away for good, not after he’s had time to think things through. You think this might be a lark on his part?”
All the more reason for Alexis not to waste her time with him. If the guy was going to head straight back for the city in a week—forget it.
Vivian scoffed. “Everything was going right for him until that wicked, ruthless woman messed with his head. He was going to help me launch Viv’s Vitality. He promised he could get the financing set up for me, and now he’s reneging on our agreement. He says he doesn’t want anything to do with business anymore. He just wants to get away. Permanently.”
Finally the truth had come out. Now everything Viv had done was beginning to make sense. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Viv, but I don’t see how your sending him to me is going to help you secure funding for that spa you’ve been planning. At best, I might be able to steer him toward the purchase of a ranch, but that’s the exact opposite of what you want him to do, right? So what are you really asking me for?”
“You can restore his faith in womankind.”
Viv’s statement was so unexpected—and so outrageous—that Alexis burst into laughter.
“Don’t snicker at me. It could happen.”
“No, it really couldn’t.” Vivian had her head in the clouds if she thought Alexis had the time or inclination to romance a city guy with a broken heart even if he’d give her a second glance—which she doubted. And how would that help, anyway?
Vivian sniffled a couple of times. Was she crying?
Oh, brother. Alexis sighed deeply, but her heart was touched nonetheless. The lengths she had to go to for her twin.
“All right,” she consoled, her heart tugging with compassion. “Don’t cry, Viv. I’m not going to throw myself at the guy, but maybe there’s something I can do.”
Viv sniffed once more for good measure and Alexis stifled a chuckle. Her sister was such a drama queen.
“You’ll back me up, then?”
“I’ll try. But I can’t promise you this isn’t going to backfire. Since at least on the surface it appears Griff is serious about settling down in Serendipity, I’ll do what I can to help him secure a place. Maybe he’ll realize what a pipe dream he’s conjured up and decide to go back to his old life. If the circumstance presents itself, I’ll even put a bug in his ear about how great your business plan is and how appreciative you’d be of his assistance. Maybe he’ll be willing to help you out once he’s had a little time away from the rat race, especially since he promised to help you build your business before all the bad stuff went down. But all the hearts and flowers you imagine will happen between us?” Alexis shook her head. “Let’s just be clear about that part right now. Not gonna happen.”
* * *
Settling into the bunkhouse wasn’t as bad as Griff had thought it might be. In fact, to his pleasant surprise, he found it was rather peaceful living next to the barn. Honestly, he had imagined rows of bunk beds with scratchy wool blankets and no privacy among the wranglers, but everyone had separate, if tiny, living quarters, and it turned out that the cowboys were a quiet bunch, mostly keeping to their own devices, which suited Griff just fine. Better yet, the whole place was permeated with the smell of horses and hay, a strong, earthy scent that reminded Griff of the only happy times he’d experienced in his youth.
He discovered he could adapt quite well to this living situation, but then again, adapting was what he’d spent his whole life doing. He didn’t know why he should be surprised that this was so easy for him. He was finally here, pursuing his dreams, even if the string of events that had led him to Serendipity was anything but ideal, and even if his plan hadn’t gone remotely as he’d expected.
So he’d hit a few bumps in the road—such as finding out the house where he’d intended to stay was otherwise occupied, or when he’d been pawned off to the bunkhouse with one flick of Alexis’s pretty wrist. Alexis was definitely the biggest challenge of all. It wasn’t every day a man was called out by a beautiful, feisty woman brandishing a curling iron as her only weapon.
It was an adventure, if nothing else, and he was ready for new experiences. Somehow, some way, he was going to find his perfect hideaway out here in Nowhere, Texas. This place was as far away from the world he was used to as a man could get, with horses and open land everywhere he looked. It fit the bill exactly.
His own private haven.
His team in Houston thought he was crazy for wanting to find a home in a small town, but he didn’t care what anyone thought about his intentions, even Derrick Reynolds, his best friend and the one and only man he trusted. Griff was tired of living up—or down—to other people’s expectations. This was about him and nobody else, and what he really wanted in his life was solitude.
“Griff?” He heard Alexis’s raised voice at the same time as her knock—three short, rhythmical raps on the outer bunkhouse door.
“One second,” he called, dashing down the hallway to the shared bathroom with his styling paste clenched in his hand. He was dressed in an older pair of blue jeans and a high-end, navy-blue T-shirt. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. He’d planned to buy a few Western shirts at the general store in town, but to his dismay, he’d discovered that the whole town closed up on Sundays. Talk about peculiar small-town culture. He couldn’t even get a bite to eat at the local café, much less pick up the groceries he’d intended to buy.
Fortunately for him, he’d had his loaf of bread from the night before. Not only that, but the cowboys had realized his predicament and had graciously offered him the use of their pantry. Otherwise he probably would have gone hungry—or he’d have had to go begging to Alexis, which he wasn’t inclined to do. Thanks to Vivian, he was already beholden to Alexis, more than he wanted to be. He disliked owing anybody anything. He’d rather starve.
He made a mental note to anonymously restock the wranglers’ pantry—and maybe add a little bit more variety to their scant offering. They seemed woefully lacking in diversity. How many cans of baked beans could a man eat?
“Griff?” Alexis sounded impatient.
“One second,” he called again, dipping his fingers into the pomade and randomly dabbing the paste into his hair. He wasn’t a vain man, but his thick hair was downright scary in the morning before his shower. He did the best he could to tame the ragged peaks, then strode to the door.
Alexis’s eyes widened as she surveyed him. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
Griff cringed. Apparently he hadn’t been entirely successful with the hair.
“No, I was awake. I was reading. Did you need something?”
Alexis’s fair skin coloring gave away even the smallest nuances of a blush, and right now her cheeks were rose-petal pink, though he couldn’t imagine what she had to be embarrassed about. He leaned his shoulder against the door frame