The Rancher's City Girl

Chapter Three (#ulink_4e69fa44-8db1-58f8-93a3-9d8f1902ce2a)

The next morning, the house vibrated with rare excitement. Robert sat by the window, pretending not to watch for Cory’s truck. He scowled at Eloise as she rechecked his oxygen tanks, but when she turned away, she’d catch the scowl fading out of the corner of her eye.

Eloise felt cheerful and upbeat about this trip. It would be good to get away from the musty little house—a holiday from the ordinary. She’d never seen a ranch before, except for what she could glean from movies, and the prospect was both exciting and mildly daunting. She had packed some painting supplies so that she could make the most of her time there.

“I’m bringing your favorite shirts—the soft ones,” she told the old man as she tucked the last of the clothing into a suitcase. “I’m also packing your winter robe, just in case it gets chilly.”

She chatted away to her patient, getting little response, but each time she looked over at him, she’d catch the anticipation in his eyes, quickly veiled for her benefit. When Cory’s truck rumbled to a stop outside, Robert turned away from the window.

“Is he here?” Eloise asked.

“Looks like.”

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“It’s only a couple of hours away. You’re acting like we’re leaving for a month.”

“I only want to be prepared.” She straightened. “It’ll be fun, won’t it?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he attempted to wheel himself toward the bookshelf.

“Can I help you with something, Robert?”

He waved her off. “I have to put something in the suitcase.”

From the bookshelf, Mr. Bessler took the ornate urn that held his wife’s ashes, and with some effort, he tucked it into the open bag. Eloise didn’t attempt to help him. When it came to Ruth, Mr. Bessler didn’t like interference.

A knock on the door drew her attention and Eloise went to open it. Cory stood on the doorstep. He pulled his hat from his head, his warm gaze meeting hers, and gave her a nod.

“Morning, ma’am.”

She chuckled at his formal manners, a novelty she didn’t come across often in Billings. She instantly liked it. “Come on in.”

Behind her, she could hear her patient struggling to clear his throat.

“Hi, Mr. Bessler.” Cory lifted his hat slightly, then dropped it back on his head and bent to pick up their bags. “Can I take these out?”

Eloise nodded and Cory’s boots reverberated on the wooden floor as he headed out, his arms flexed under the weight of the luggage. She caught herself watching his muscular form as he strode back out to the truck. He was strong in a way she didn’t often see. This wasn’t muscle tone from working out at a gym—this was strength from hard, manual labor, and it looked different somehow, more natural. She tore her gaze away, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. Robert didn’t seem to notice, much to her relief.

It didn’t take long for their items to be stashed in the back of the pickup, and Eloise wheeled Robert out the side door and down the ramp. They settled the old man in the backseat of the four-door truck, his oxygen beside him. Cory then gave Eloise a hand up into the front seat before heading around to the driver’s side.

“Are you comfortable, Robert?” Eloise asked.

“It’ll do.”

Cory hopped up into the driver’s seat, the scent of his aftershave wafting through the cab. She knew he was a tall man, but proximity to him made him seem larger still. His broad hands slid over the steering wheel as he eased away from the curb, and he gave her a smile.

“I guess we’ll all get to know each other a little bit,” Cory said as he pulled out of the drive and into the street. “I think you’ll like it out there in Blaine County, sir.”

“You might as well call me Robert, too,” the old man sighed. “All these formal manners are agonizing.”

“Thanks. Have you always lived in town?” Cory tried again.

“All my life.”

“So you must know a lot of people.”

“I know them. I don’t like them, but I know them.”

Cory laughed. “You’re direct, I’ll give you that.”

Mr. Bessler heaved a dry laugh.

“You said you were an accountant,” Cory tried again.

“Sure was.”

“You must like working with numbers then.”

“I liked a steady paycheck. A married man has to provide.”

“So you didn’t like your job?”

“It was okay. I didn’t hate it. Can’t say I was passionate about taxes or anything, though.”

“So what did you like?” Cory glanced into the rearview mirror. “There must have been something.”

“I had a horse,” the old man said quietly. “I liked the horse.”

They fell into silence, and Eloise settled comfortably into the seat. They were talking, and she felt gratified. Maybe it wasn’t her business, but she was glad to see the old man connecting with his son somehow.

“What kind of horse did you have?” Cory asked.

“Look, no offense, but I’m tired. Talk to her for a bit.”

Cory and Eloise exchanged a look and Eloise smothered a smile. She knew her patient well enough to fully expect his bad humor, but she suspected his son wouldn’t find his cantankerous nature quite so charming.

“You seem in a hurry to get back,” Eloise commented.

He nodded. “Like I said before, calving is a busy time.”

“What happens?”

He eyed her uncertainly. “I get the feeling that you aren’t much of a country girl.”

Eloise shrugged. “I grew up in Billings and moved out here for this position with your father. This is about as rural as I’m used to.”

“I appreciate you coming along. You’re getting me out of a bind.”