Falling for the Rancher
When Lauren McCauley returns to the Circle M Ranch after her fatherâs death, sheâs focused on selling the spread and getting a fresh start somewhere else. But sheâs unprepared for the jolt her heart feels when she meets Vic Moore. The handsome, broad-shouldered cowboy may have a legitimate claim to the Circle M, and he makes it clear heâd like to lasso Lauren, as well. Terrified of another heartbreak, Lauren vows to cash in and ship out. But the strong and steady rancher is not about to give up on his dreams of a home...and a family to go with it.
âI think that youâre starting to like it here,â Vic said.
She swallowed as their eyes held.
âI am. Itâs peaceful,â she said finally, fully aware of the calloused warmth of his hand.
âIt can be,â he said. âWinter can be harsh and wild, though. When the wind whips up snow and piles it into snowbanks, blocks off roads.â
âIâve never been here in the winter, except when I was a little girl,â she said.
âIt has its own beauty,â Vic continued. âIts own moments when the sun comes out and the world looks like an endless blanket of white.â
His voice and the pictures he sketched with it were beguiling, and Lauren imagined herself tucked away in her fatherâs ranch house, looking out over blinding fields of white, a fire blazing in the hearth, a book on her lap.
Itâs a dream, her practical self told her. A foolish dream.
She tugged her hand free and pulled herself away from Vic and the web he was weaving.
Chapter One
She wasnât supposed to be here yet. Her sister Jodie had told him she was arriving in a couple of weeks.
But there she sat, perched in one of Drakeâs worn chairs, as out of place in the shabby lawyerâs office as a purebred filly in a petting zoo.
Lauren McCauley appeared to be every inch the businesswoman Vic knew her to be. Tall. Slim. Blond hair twisted up in some fancy bun, a few wisps falling around her delicate features. She wore a brown blazer over a fitted dress tucked under her legs. Her high heels made her look as if she might topple to the ground if she stood.
A silver laptop rested on her knees and she frowned at the screen.
When she was a teenager, coming to Montana to visit her dad during the summer, sheâd had a look that promised great beauty. But she always managed to seem cool and unapproachable. And she had never been his type.
Vic leaned more toward girls who rode horses and werenât afraid to get their hands dirty mucking out horse stalls, running a tractor or feeding cows.
In spite of that, Vic couldnât help a faint flutter of attraction when he peeked over at her again. Sheâd always been pretty. Now she looked stunning.
Lauren McCauley glanced up from the laptop she was typing on with her manicured fingers. She gave him a polite smile, her lips glistening a pale peach color, and she turned back to the computer.
Dissed and dismissed, he thought, glancing down at his cleanest blue jeans with the faded knees and the twill shirt heâd figured would be good enough. Now it seemed scruffy with its worn cuffs and grease stain on the arm. He felt exactly like the cowboy he was.
He pulled his hat off his head and walked over to where Jane Forsythe, Drakeâs secretary, pounded on her keyboard, glowering through her catâs-eye glasses at the computer screen. The overhead light burnished the copper of her hair, making it look even brassier than the fake color everyone knew it to be.
âHey, Vic, you handsome cowboy, you.â Jane tugged off her reading glasses and tossed them on a pile of papers that threatened to topple. âDrake will be right with you.â She angled her head to look past him to where Lauren sat, then leaned forward, her hand cupping her mouth. âHe has to see her first.â Jane put emphasis on the her as if Lauren were some strange species of woman.
âThatâs fine. Iâm early,â Vic said. âBut let him know Iâm here.â He took a chair along the other wall. There were two empty ones on either side of Lauren, but he felt more comfortable giving himself some distance.