Gone Country: Rough Riders, Book 14, Page 2

  She peered over the top of her pink sunglasses. “It’s bigger than I thought. Rustic, but it works in this setting with the different types of trees as a backdrop. It looks more like an upscale hunting lodge than a single family dwelling.”

  The kid knew the lingo after being around the real estate business her whole life.

  “Holy crap. Who is that?”

  “Where?”

  Sierra pointed. “There. By the fence.”

  Gavin saw a shapely, jean-clad ass bent over a wheelbarrow. The woman stood and turned to grab the wheelbarrow’s handles, giving him a front-and-center view of her low-cut tank top. The full swells of her cleavage bounced nicely as she started downhill. Her face was hidden beneath the bill of a brown and gold University of Wyoming ball cap.

  “You don’t know her?” Sierra asked. “Is she seasonal help or something?”

  “Maybe.” Where was Rielle? She always met him on the porch with her pack of dogs.

  They climbed out of the Lexus. Gavin continued to stare from behind his sunglasses at the woman heading toward them, showing a lot of sun-kissed skin. When she removed her cap, revealing artfully tousled short blond hair, and smiled at him, Gavin’s jaw nearly hit the dirt. “Rielle?”

  “You were expecting someone else?” She stepped closer, slipping off her glove before offering her hand. “You must be Sierra. I’m Rielle Wetzler. Your dad has talked about you nonstop.”

  “Most of it bad, I’m sure.” Sierra smirked and Gavin held his breath, waiting for the snarky sixteen-year-old to emerge. “I’ll admit Dad said nothing to me about you.”

  Gavin was tempted to correct his daughter, but Rielle had already engaged his sometimes-prickly child in conversation.

  Sierra started sharing her favorite parts of their tourist excursions. Rather than stand and gawk at this sexier version of Rielle, he returned to his car and began unloading luggage and tried to figure out how they were going to make this situation work.

  The circumstances were unconventional, but his buyout offer hadn’t exactly been normal either. After they’d hashed out an agreement, he’d asked her to stay on the premises as a caretaker, although she refused payment for the position. His property manager called her every other month to check in. Gavin and Rielle were friendly, but he didn’t know her. He hadn’t seen Rielle beyond her role as his personal chef, maid and property custodian. And because of that line—she’d essentially worked for him—he’d never noticed such a hot woman existed beneath the tie-dyed clothes and Marcia Brady hair.

  You’re a superficial asshole.

  Maybe, but it didn’t change the facts. Gavin hauled luggage to the porch, his depraved brain compiling a list of Rielle’s overlooked attributes. When he turned around Rielle and Sierra were staring at him. “What?”

  “Dad. I said I’d help you like three times. Didn’t you hear me?”

  “No, sweetheart, I didn’t. Thinking about too many things, I guess.” R-rated things about the scantily clad and surprisingly hot Rielle that he couldn’t share with his daughter. “Let’s leave this stuff here and do a quick tour.” He faced Rielle. “Is that okay?”

  She shrugged. “It’s your house.”

  He detected tension in that answer and knew they needed to discuss specific living arrangements tonight.

  “Besides, I’ll be in the garden until dark.”

  “We’ll catch up with you later. Charlie and Vi invited us over for dinner.”

  “The food oughta be good since Vi’s a great cook.” She grabbed three balls of dirt from the wheelbarrow and set them on the railing. “Take her some of these golden beets. They’re her favorite.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Plastic bags are under the sink. See you.” Rielle lifted the wheelbarrow handles and Gavin had the urge to offer his help. But by the looks of the toned muscles in her arms, shoulders, back, ass, thighs and calves, she didn’t need help. He glanced at Sierra after Rielle disappeared around the side of the house. She wore an odd look. Shit. Had she caught him checking Rielle out? “What?”

  “This will be weird, having someone else live with us.”

  “I know. But we’ll figure out a way to make it work.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s check out our new digs.”

  “Dad. No one says digs. You are such a dork.”

  “I didn’t think anyone said dork anymore either,” he teased.

  After Sierra’s initial outburst about their sudden departure from Arizona, she’d come to a grudging acceptance that something had to change. He suspected she was secretly relieved for the chance to start fresh and she had acted enthusiastic when she’d told her mother about the move. Gavin didn’t kid himself it was genuine, but rather a way for Sierra to show her mother she’d be too busy with her new adventure to miss her, but he hoped in time she would embrace this new life in Wyoming.

  “This place has a lot of personality,” Sierra commented on the great room. “Is the furniture and stuff in here ours?”

  “No, it’s Rielle’s.”

  “Where is our furniture?”

  Hell if I know. “Why?”

  Sierra whirled around. “I hope it ended up lost or in the Dumpster.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because it was ugly and boring. Like you walked into a discount furniture store, saw a perfectly put together living room set, and said, I’ll take that crap.”

  That’s exactly what he’d done. “And that’s bad…how?”

  She pointed to a chair comprised of half cowhide, half distressed leather with braided piping on the front and animal hooves as the feet. “This is a seriously awesome piece. It says a lot about Rielle. She’s picked pieces that are unique, yet funky. I’ll bet she even made some of them.” Then Sierra poked him in the chest. “You could learn a lot from her.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning…we’re starting over, right? We need to shitcan that ugly furniture we’ve had forever. What bad taste demon possessed you to buy it in the first place?”

  Gavin suppressed a grin. It boded well Sierra had bounced back to her annoyingly sweet and pushy self after clearing out of Arizona. “Because I spent damn near six months searching for furniture with your mother right after we got married. I hated everything she picked. So after the divorce, when I moved into the condo, I chose big, comfy pieces, without damn flowers or checks or stripes. Plus, the furniture had to be stain resistant, because you, dear daughter, have a tendency to spill ice cream, cereal and pizza.” He kissed her forehead.

  Sierra twined her arms around him and sighed. “Dad. I’m not six anymore.”

  “Sometimes I wish you were.”

  “I know. But promise you’ll let me help when we pick out new stuff for our place, okay?”

  He hugged her tightly. This was the daughter he’d missed in the last year when the teenager from hell had inhabited her body. “Okay.”

  She squirmed away. “Show me the rest.”

  The main floor was comprised of the enormous kitchen, the dining room and the great room. Down the hallway were a bathroom and two bedrooms, both with en-suite bathrooms. Gavin noticed Rielle had relocated to the biggest room in the far corner. He fought a pang of guilt for kicking her out of the master suite.

  This is your house. Remember that.

  A wide staircase opened onto the landing of the second floor. Another comfortable lounging area stretched out in front of the windows. Gavin turned down the left hallway and walked past the bedroom he intended to use as an office. He opened the door to the master suite and glanced up at the skylights spilling sunbeams across the plush carpet. The angle of the roof provided architectural interest. On the far side was a set of French doors that led to a private balcony. He poked his head into the bathroom, happy for the oversized shower, but ambivalent about the garden tub.

  “This is a lot bigger than your bedroom in Arizona.” She hip-checked him. “You could sneak someone in here. Have wild parties an
d I’d never know.”

  He snorted. “Like that’ll happen.”

  “It should. I wouldn’t mind if you…ah, got involved with someone.”

  Gavin gaped at his daughter. Since when did she care about that? And what the hell was her vague reference to someone? Then she flitted off, down the other hallway.

  The last bedroom and Sierra’s room were opposite each other on the other end of the hallway. She squealed upon seeing her stuff. “I love it! This is exactly where I would’ve put everything. So can we hang my TV and set up my computer right now?”

  He checked his watch. “We have to be at Charlie and Vi’s pretty quick so the TV will have to wait until I find my tools. But let’s hook up your computer.”

  That task finished, they hauled everything from the car. He showed Sierra the small servants’ staircase connecting the second floor directly through the kitchen. Sierra tried the handle on another door. “Where does this go?”

  “Basement.”

  “There’s a whole other level?”

  “Yes, but it’s unfinished and Rielle uses it for storage.”

  “What are we gonna use it for?”

  His immediate thought was to ask Rielle’s permission and he had to remind himself for the tenth time that he owned this place. “Maybe that’s where our old furniture is.”

  “I hope there’s another wood burning stove down there, so we can just chop it up and torch it.”

  Gavin laughed. “Come on. Let’s package up the beets and head to the McKays.”

  Sierra didn’t speak as they started up the driveway to Charlie and Vi McKay’s place.

  “Sweetheart? You all right?”

  “Yeah. This might sound random, but what am I supposed to call them? I mean, they are my grandparents. When they visited us I didn’t think too much about it because I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to know them. But now? We’re living up the road from them. I bet we’ll see them all the time.”

  Another issue he should address. Did he remind Charlie and Vi that he preferred they didn’t drop by unannounced? Or would he come across like a jerk?

  “Is this weird for you?” Sierra prompted.

  “Unbelievably. Just when I think I’ve wrapped my head around it…I realize I don’t have a clue how to deal with any of this we’re your family stuff. And then they’re all cowboys. I am so far from a cowboy…”

  “So Mr. I’ve-always-got-the-right-answer-and-I-can-lecture-you-for-hours-on-it…doesn’t have the right one this time?” She snickered. “Wow. That might be a first, Dad.”

  “Smart aleck. I trust you’ll be on your best behavior?”

  “I polished my halo before we left.”

  He smiled. “Come on. I’m starved.” He glanced at the bag of beets in the backseat. Maybe if he “remembered” them after the meal, Vi wouldn’t insist on cooking them for the meal. God. He hated beets.

  “Quit stalling, Dad, here they come.”

  He plastered on a smile.

  Charlie and Vi met them on the porch. Vi hugged them while Charlie offered his hand.

  Then they stared at each other.

  But it lasted about a minute. Awkwardness vanished as Sierra jabbered enough for both of them.

  Chapter Four

  Rielle had just popped the top on a bottle of Moose Drool beer when Gavin wandered into the kitchen.

  Speaking of drool. Man, oh, man. The last year had been very good to him. He’d always been attractive in the charming and confident manner of a businessman. But since she’d last seen him, he’d slimmed down and toned up to the point he was almost…buff.

  She’d chalked up his previous physique—or lack thereof—to sitting behind a desk all day. But his appearance had undergone a serious change in the last year. He’d chopped off his wavy dark brown hair in favor of a modified buzz cut. Now his blue eyes, framed with ridiculously long black eyelashes, were his most striking feature. He sported a neatly trimmed goatee which accentuated his leaner cheeks and the strong line of his jaw, both more prominent with his overall body weight loss. The man still didn’t smile as much as he should, so her heart skipped a beat when he leveled a smile at her.

  “Don’t suppose you’ve got an extra one of those for me?”

  “Extra what?” Why was Gavin staring at her mouth? Why did she have the urge to lick her lips?

  “An extra beer.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Get it together, Ree. She reached into the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. When she turned around, Gavin was right behind her—checking out her butt.

  He blushed and stepped back. “Sorry. I don’t expect you to wait on me, Rielle.”

  She handed him the beer and the opener. “Maybe we oughta talk about our expectations.”

  Gavin nodded.

  “It’s a beautiful night. Let’s sit outside.”

  He motioned for her to lead the way.

  She flipped on the lights lining the walkway and lit the kerosene lamp on the table between the glider swing and her favorite rocking chair. She curled up in the rocker, setting it in motion as Gavin settled on the swing. The kerosene flame flickered in the breeze behind the glass chimney, throwing a golden glow against the house. Neither she nor Gavin said anything for a few moments. Normally silence didn’t bother her, but tonight it did. “Sierra get settled in all right?”

  “It helped having her stuff already here. I have to admit I’m happy each bedroom has its own bathroom. The girl is spoiled. She’s never had to share a bathroom with anyone.”

  “Rory and I shared a bathroom until I built Sage Creek. Even then, she came into my bathroom to get ready in the morning. Come to think of it, she still does that.”

  “It sucks that Sierra isn’t willing to share any hair care tips with me.”

  Rielle laughed. “Was it her idea or yours to get the buzz cut?”

  Gavin buffed the top of his head with his palm. “Mine. I started to see some gray and I’m not ready to invest in Grecian Formula for Men, so I bought a pair of clippers and hacked it off. I save myself fifty bucks a month at the barber.”

  “Well, it looks good. Really good.” Feeling stupid for tossing out a compliment, she angled her head away from his prying eyes.

  “Thanks. I have to admit I didn’t recognize you with your short hair.”

  “I’ve heard that a lot in the past few days.” Rielle felt his eyes on her, measuring her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “So it’s a recent change?”

  “Last week.”

  “You look great, Rielle.”

  “Thanks.”

  More silence.

  Rielle peered up at him, only to see him staring at her. “Gavin. Can I be completely honest?”

  “By all means.”

  “How is this situation going to work?”

  He stretched his arm across the back of the glider. “I have no idea. I understand I sprang this on you. But as long as we’re being honest, I’ve owned this house and the land for almost two years. And yet, you still haven’t made any plans to build your own place. Why?”

  “Because I never believed you’d really move here.”

  He frowned.

  “You’ve visited exactly four times and not at all in the last year. You’ve never brought your daughter. So I figured if you planned to relocate to Sundance, it’d be after Sierra went to college.” She pointed her beer bottle at him. “And you are wrong. I have been in contact with Chet and Remy West about my building plans. I just wasn’t expecting to have to get started on the damn thing this fall.”

  “So you’re fine and dandy with us taking up residence here?”

  “Yes. No.” She exhaled a sigh. “Look, I know you own the house. But it’s been my home for six years, not just a bed and breakfast. I know every square inch of this place because I spent a decade designing it.”

  Gavin’s face was unreadable, but not formidable so she continued.

  “It would’ve been better if you had thrown me out after you took ownership. Bu
t you didn’t. I stayed on as if nothing had changed. Now I can’t help the resentment that you two are invading my house and encroaching on my space. It’s wrong; I know that. But as long as we’re being honest I might as well lay it all on the line.”

  The only sounds between them were the squeak of the glider and the creak of the rocking chair.

  Finally, Gavin sighed. “This is so fucked up.”

  “Agreed. That’s just the personal side. We haven’t even talked about the fact I run all of my businesses out of here.”

  “Businesses…plural?”

  Maybe his shock about her owning multiple businesses pissed her off a little. “Yes. Businesses. In addition to selling organic produce, I sell honey. I handspin various fiber into yarn. I’m at the end of my growing season so I can’t abandon my plants—that means using water from your well since I haven’t drilled for one on my property yet. So regardless of what you decide for our personal living arrangements, on the business side, I’ll have to be here every day. I’ve made commitments, Gavin, and my word has always been the only thing I’ve ever had of any worth.”

  He stopped the glider and rested his forearms on his thighs. “I understand that, believe me. And despite your erroneous accusation, the living arrangement situation isn’t solely my decision. So tell me what else you’re committed to in your businesses.”

  “The small bakery here closed three years ago. I stepped up to fill the need for fresh baked goods because I installed industrial ovens when I built this place. Three days a week I bake dinner rolls for Fields, the upscale organic restaurant in Sundance. I provide stone-ground wheat and rye bread to several other restaurants and grocery stores in the area. I can’t just stop because then they’ll assume they can’t depend on me, and they’ll quit buying all the other food stuff I supply, which is a lot and my main source of income.” Rielle inhaled slowly, trying hard not to show the panic she felt.

  “I don’t know how you formed a negative impression of me, but I don’t plan to throw you out on your ass.”

  “Don’t you see that’s almost worse?” She leapt to her feet and paced, words spilling out unchecked. “You came here with Sierra to be a family. I get that. I’m not your family and yet, under our current agreement, I’ll be living in your house as if I am. You’ll want to hang out, just the two of you. Fix meals together, watch TV, help with her homework, play games, invite your McKay relatives over. How can I live here without feeling like an interloper…in what’s always been my home? On the other hand, how can I live here and not get to watch what I want on my TV, and sit on my furniture in my living room? I’m just supposed to…what? Lock myself in my room?