Winning Over The Cowboy
The Rancher Stakes His ClaimInheriting half a dude ranch after losing her best friend, Landry Malone is determined to see Eden’s legacy flourish. That is if her friend’s broad-shouldered cowboy brother will give her the chance. Chase Donovan isn’t happy that his sister left their family business to an outsider—and he’s determine to test Landry’s mettle, hoping she'll give up her claim. Soon Chase is impressed by Landry’s ability to rise to every challenge he puts in her way—and worried that his attraction to the perky spitfire seems to know no end. Finally working together to ensure the ranch’s future, will their business partnership be the foundation for something more?
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The Rancher Stakes His Claim
When she inherits half a dude ranch after losing her best friend, Landry Malone is determined to see Edenâs legacy flourish. That is if her friendâs broad-shouldered cowboy brother will give her the chance. Chase Donovan isnât happy that his sister left their family business to an outsiderâand heâs determined to test Landryâs mettle, hoping sheâll give up her claim. Soon Chase is impressed by Landryâs ability to rise to every challenge he puts in her wayâand worried that his attraction to the perky spitfire seems to know no end. Finally working together to ensure the ranchâs future, will their business partnership be the foundation for something more?
âYou are, hands down, the fastest female in the West.â
Landry winced. âTranslate that toâtakes little time with her appearance.â
âSome womenâs appearances donât need time.â
A compliment? From Chase? Her eyes widened.
Various birds chirped and sang as they strolled the thirty yards to the river in a comfortable silence. Once they reached the bank, they set their gear down and went to work baiting their hooks.
Landry chose a fat worm, slid it onto her hook.
âImpressive, Malone. Apparently you have no qualms about an earthwormâs death.â
âShh, youâll scare the fish away.â
He chuckled, baited his hook, moved up the river from her a bit.
As the distance widened between them, she started breathing easier. Why was Chase giving her contradictory signals?
He didnât even like her. Did he?
Whether he liked her or not, she liked this new Chase. Maybe too much.
SHANNON TAYLOR VANNATTER is a stay-at-home mom/pastorâs wife/award-winning author. She lives in a rural central-Arkansas community with a population of around one hundred, if you count a few cows. Contact her at shannonvannatter.com.
It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man.
âPsalms 118:8
To Texas Mom, who always makes visiting her in Texas Hill Country feel like coming home.
Contents
Her best friend wasnât here anymore. And never would be again.
A knot clogged in Landryâs throat as she stood in the gravel drive. The early evening Texas sky blurred, and she blinked the moisture away.
The massive cedar structure with the endless green metal roof looked exactly as it had when sheâd lived and worked here seven years before. The same as when sheâd visited last fall. Nothing about the dude ranch had changed. Yet everything had.
âMay I help you?â A male voice.
Landry shaded her eyes from the mid-July glare, searched the porch. Edenâs brother? Or a ranch hand? Blinded by the sun, she couldnât tell.
Besides, sheâd only met the brother three times. Two funerals and a wedding. Sounded like some rom-com, but there was nothing romantic or funny about it.
âIâm Landry Malone.â Here to claim my inheritance. As she neared the house, her vision cleared. Despite the Stetson shadowing his features, she made out Edenâs brother. Green eyes, raven hair. But the similarities ended there. The brother was all male, stubbly beard and stiff postureâa cowboy to the bone.
His gaze narrowed as she stepped up on the porch. âIâm Chase Donovan.â
âWe met here atââ A rush of memories choked off her words. The backyard draped in tulle. Eden so happy, rushing off in cloud of birdseed. The last time Landry had seen her. Nine months and one week ago. She swallowed hard. âAt Grannyâsâyour grandmotherâs funeral. At Edenâs wedding.â And again at her funeral.
âI remember.â His mouth tightened, but he clasped the hand she offered, stiff and somehow disapproving. Checked his watch, as if she were late.
But she wasnât. She was exactly on time. Was he one of those uptight people who arrived ten to fifteen minutes early wherever he went? Surely not, with his nomad lifestyle.
âWeâll talk in the office.â Despite his dour welcome, Chase opened the door for her.
A blast of air-conditioning pebbled her heated skin.
âI know where it is.â Her stomach sank. Did he plan to sell, without even talking it over? He couldnât. Eden loved this place. Lived and breathed it. And it was their familyâs heritage.
Same hardwood floors, log furnishings, cowhide chairs. Homey and safe. She wanted to look around more, but his hurried cowboy boots thudded behind her like he had somewhere else to be. One of his long strides ate up three of hers as she crossed the foyer.
She made it to the office doorway, blocking Chase with her hesitation. A silver-haired man sat at the rustic ash desk, black reading glasses resting on his bulbous nose. Granny used to sit there. And then Eden.
