IT WAS time to move on.
Cole Parrish spread the fresh straw around the horse stall. In truth, it was past time to make his departure. Heâd never stayed anyplace this long. Four months heâd been at the Bar H Ranch. After the heart attack of the foreman, Cy Parks, Cole couldnât leave the owner to fend for herself all alone.
He braced the pitchfork against the railing and pushed his hat back. The familiar restlessness gnawed at his gut, urging him to leave. He was getting far too attached to this place but the sooner he got out of here the better. The last thing he needed was more memories to carry away with him. He had enough of those to last a lifetime.
That was why he had to go now. And he had to tell Rachel Hewitt. Today.
Determined not to put off the task any longer, Cole walked out of the stall and through the barn. Outside, he looked toward the two-story frame ranch house across the compound. At one time it had been painted white, but like the rest of the place, the structure could use a new coat of paint along with a few repairs.
It would only take him a couple weeks to do the jobâ¦He shook his head. No. This wasnât his problem. He was leaving.
Before he reached the house, a young Rachel Hewitt came out on the porch. As on every other day she wore her usual work clothesâfaded jeans and a manâs shirt. Her long, raven mane was tied back in a long braid, exposing her pretty oval face. She was tall and solidly built, but there was something about her expression that suggested a fragile quality. His gaze met her golden-brown eyes and he felt his chest constrict, making it difficult to draw a breath.
He definitely had to leave. Soon.
âRachel,â he called as he approached her. âIf you have a minute, I need to talk with you.â
âWhat is it, Cole?â She gripped the porch post and smiled, but it didnât hide her fatigue. He doubted sheâd gotten much sleep, what with running the house and doing the work of a ranch hand. Not that anything had changed since her fatherâs death two years ago. Heâd heard stories that old Gib Hewitt had run the Bar H from his wheelchair, but Rachel had been the one who did the physical work.
Cole had stayed so long because he knew Gib had given power of attorney to a lawyer until his daughter turned thirty. Rachel couldnât afford to pay much to ranch hands and Cole couldnât allow her to struggle on alone. That was the reason why his leaving would be so hard on her. But he had to do it.
He didnât do permanenceâ¦not anymore.
He stood at the bottom of the porch steps. âIâm giving my notice. Iâll be leaving in a week,â he said straight out.
He watched as her eyes widened in panic, then she quickly masked it. âYou said youâd stay on a while. You know Cy canât do the work by himself.â
Cole caught himself fighting a smile. âYou better not let him hear you saying that.â Cy Parks had been at the Bar H for nearly thirty years. She was right. He wasnât capable of handling it all by himself anymore. But this ranch wasnât big by Texas standards, a three-man operation at best. âSince spring roundup is over, things should be quiet for a time. He can manage feeding the stock. That should give you time to hire someone else.â
Rachel didnât want to hire someone else. For one thing, she couldnât afford to. She wasnât even sure how much longer sheâd be able to pay Cole. Although he was a drifter, she trusted the man. He was a hard worker. He was the one whoâd been with Cy when he had his heart attack, giving him CPR and saving his life. Cole had kept him alive until the ambulance had arrived from town.
âThereâs no one else to hire. Most of the available men have moved onto the bigger operations around San Angelo.â
âIâm headed there, too.â
âLook if itâs the moneyâ¦â
He shook his head. âJust need a change of scenery. Iâll work to the end of the week and if you like, try to find a replacement.â
Cole Parrish was a handsome man, with his dark hair and piercing gray eyes. There were times when she saw such sadness in their depths, it made her want to cry. He must have his reasons for leaving, and she shouldnât try to stop him. âThank you, Cole. That would be a big help.â
He tipped his hat, then turned and walked back toward the barn. Rachel couldnât help but watch his departure with appreciation. A chambray shirt covered his wide shoulders but it couldnât hide his rock solid build. Years of rough ranch work showed in the muscle definition across his back and slim waist. He had a loose-hipped gait that showed off some attitude. All cowboys had a little cockiness about them. A gush of heat washed over her, making her insides ache. Since the day Cole Parrish had arrived at the ranch, sheâd experienced this feeling many times.