WESTERN ROMANCE: A Ranch to Call Home (Texas Romance, Mail Order Bride Romance, Clean Romance, Christian Romance) (Clean and Wholesome Romance) Read Free Page A

her, was that she had not spent any real time getting to know Nash.
She understood their set up was one of convenience. She had agreed to take care
of the house and the children and he had agreed to support her, but in the back
of her mind Lucy had hoped for more.
    When Nash came in
for breakfast, Lucy decided to loosen her tongue and take the bull by the
horns. “I think it’s about time I started doing more around here. I’m not on a
vacation, nor am I guest by our arrangement.”
    Vanessa’s spoon
of oatmeal clattered into her bowl, splattering warmed oats over the
tablecloth. Nash set his coffee cup down, rested his elbows on the table and
steepled his fingers under his chin. He looked from Lucy to an annoyed Vanessa.
“I think that is a mighty fine idea. Don’t you Van?”
    Vanessa grumbled
and stood up, collecting up empty dishes to bring back to the kitchen.
    “What do you
think you’d like to start with?” he asked, ignoring the rudeness of his sister
in law.
    “Well,” Lucy started
off slow; she wanted to choose the right words. “Perhaps I could go out with
you this morning and learn some of the ranch chores and then this afternoon,”
she paused and swallowed back the anxiety as she spoke her next statement.
“This afternoon I could consult with Vanessa and begin taking on some of the
housework or the evening meal.”
    There was a huge
shattering noise that resounded from within the confines of the kitchen. And
the party of four froze for a brief moment at the dining room table.
    “I’d better
attend to that.” Nash excused himself without making comment to her suggestion.
    Lucy looked to
each of the children and gave them a reassuring smile. “You two finish up, I’m
going to go with your father this morning and we will play a game together
after lunch, okay?”
    Olivia and Galen
agreed and Lucy ran upstairs to change her clothing and prepare to head out
with Nash.
    Dressed in pink,
primrose printed Wellies, jeans and a tank top; Lucy tied her hair up off her
neck and walked down to the kitchen to find Nash. Vanessa was chopping
vegetables for their noon time meal. “Vanessa, did you see which way Nash
went?”
    “I am not his
keeper. Isn’t that your new position?” She slammed the knife down on the
cutting board and walked away at a swift pace. Lucy stood there dumbfounded.
    The truck was
gone from the driveway. Lucy turned a slow circle, shielding her eyes from the
bright sunlight. Had he really left without her? Her heart sank. Maybe this was
not the right choice. As much as she adored the kids she was beginning to feel
they were the only ones that truly wanted her around. She took a deep breath of
air, set her jaw in determination and headed off along the running fence to
find Nash. If he wasn’t going to take her seriously then they had a lot to discuss
regarding the future of this agreement.
    An hour and a
half later Lucy was windblown, dusty and her tank top was damp with
perspiration. She needed a drink and a bit of shade. Off in the distance she could
see the blue Ford truck and several men on horseback corralling a herd of cows.
She hoped Nash was with them. The closer she got the more she was able to tell
that none of the riders were Nash. Squinting she saw a ranch hand working to
repair a fence. His back was to her and she admired his shirtless form,
following the glistening line of his muscular torso to the waist band of his
faded jeans. His muscles rippled as he swung a hammer against the new wooden
post that had replaced a broken one, which now lay at his feet.
    Lucy walked up,
drinking in the fine visual specimen. She felt a small twinge of guilt, but she
was a woman after all. “Excuse me, can you tell me where I might find Mr.
McCain?’ she managed to squeak out over her parched tongue.
    The man took of
his hat and wiped his forehead on his bare arm before turning around. His chest
was tanned dark and silky smooth, and his abdomen hard form long hours of
strenuous work.