The Rancher’s City Girl: Wells Brothers, #1
By Leslie North
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About this ebook
On the ranch, true love always finds a way…
When her beloved aunt passes away, Becca Harding knows exactly what she wants to do with her inheritance… Buy a ranch, and move to the country. But when she finds the perfect property, the owner—smoldering-hot cowboy Cade Wells—isn't sure he wants to sell…
Cade is more than a little skeptical that Becca can handle country life. So she makes a deal with the surly rancher. She'll work with him for one month to prove she has the chops. At first, these two are stubborn as mules. But as time passes, Becca can't decide which she loves more… The ranch or, the grumpy cowboy and his adorable daughter.
Single dad Cade loves his ranch, but he wants more for his young daughter than a life filled with cows and empty fields. And he has to admit, Becca knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to go for it. But why couldn't she be a tad less cheerful? And a lot less sexy? Now the only demon Cade is fighting is his attraction to Becca…
And as the month goes by, can these two stop butting heads, and give true love a chance?
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The Rancher’s City Girl - Leslie North
1
J oey, you know darn well that those jeans have holes the size of Colorado in the knees. Try again.
Cade Wells stood in the hall outside his ten-year-old daughter’s bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, trying to remain as calm and placid as a pond at dawn. He’d given up on waiting for the real estate agent downstairs. If Paul came to the farmhouse early, he’d simply find the two of them up here, where Cade didn’t have to march her up a flight of stairs to get her to change. Again.
These are the nicest jeans I have.
Joey jutted out her chin. She was trying to look hard, but the expression had the opposite effect. It sent a soft stab, like a spreading ache, through Cade’s heart. When Joey did that, she looked just like her mother. The stubborn, fiery version of her mother that Cade had known once. The version of Joey’s mother that was never, ever coming back, so long as they lived. They’ll be fine.
They won’t be fine, and I bought you new jeans last week. Put ’em on. And change out of that T-shirt. It’s got a stain on the side.
Joey made a sound that was filled with all her pent-up disgust at new clothes. "Change into what? Now you’re comin’ after me about the T-shirt, too?"
Cade took a deep breath, filling his diaphragm, just like he’d learned from a yoga instructor one time. You know which shirt. The blue polo shirt.
I hate blue,
Joey said automatically.
This was a lie. Joey had always loved big, bold colors like blue and red—even went through an orange phase when she was seven. Now she was ten, and the biggest tomboy in Benton Ridge. Hate it or not, I need you in the polo shirt and your new jeans.
Joey screwed up her mouth and glared at him. She had Cade’s green eyes. It was like fighting with a younger version of himself. Her father’s eyes, her mother’s pout—and the full stubbornness of both of them. That was what you got, then, for becoming a parent—all the best parts of you, and the worst parts, too.
He stared right back at her. Cade could hold the line against Joey—he knew he could. It was only that he was already on edge about the real estate agent. The minutes ticked away in the back of his mind. If this kept up, he’d have to meet the agent in a defensive stance. The buyer, too, whoever that was. And that was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t sell this ranch from a place of weakness.
Fine,
Joey spat, and slammed the door. He could hear her throwing clothes to the floor. I don’t want to sell the ranch,
she shouted through the closed door at him.
Cade covered his face with his hand. There’ll be lots of things to do in the city,
he pointed out. You could…take dance lessons, maybe.
The door flew open to reveal Joey’s red face. "Dance lessons? Her eyes were wide, horrified.
I don’t want to wear dresses and dance. Why would you ever sign me up for dance lessons?" She slammed the door again.
I wouldn’t sign you up unless you wanted. I’m just saying, there are things to do in the city that we can’t do here.
There’s lots to do here.
Her voice was muffled. Hopefully that meant she was putting her polo shirt on. Like ride horses and play with the goats and collect the eggs. Nobody does that in cities.
The door opened again, and there she stood, arms crossed over her chest, elbows poking out, and her hair all mussed from where she’d pulled the shirt on hard over her head.
Cade tried to smooth her hair. Listen. Nothing’s set in stone yet, all right? We’re just having a meeting. You want to be in on that, don’t you?
Joey’s chin quivered, but then she locked it down tight. It broke his heart all over again. Fine,
she said, after what seemed like forever. I’ll meet whoever it is. But I’m not going to wear a dress.
I don’t even think you own a dress.
Cade pulled her in for a quick hug. Come on down. They’ll be here soon.
He chose to ignore the fact that her new jeans already had a slight rip across one kneecap. Couldn’t keep her things neat for more than a minute, his girl.
They’d no sooner stepped off the last stair that a hearty knock sounded at the door. Cade, you home? It’s me, Paul.
Cade shot Joey an encouraging look that he hoped also said keep it together and went to answer the door. Hey, Paul. And—
The buyer brought him up short.
Paul was himself, the way he ever was—redheaded, slightly balding, and skinny as a string bean. But the woman who stood next to him was like something out of a magazine. She was tall—Cade guessed she’d come up to his own shoulder at least —and that gave him a stunning view into her dark eyes. Dark hair swirled around her shoulders, and she reached up to pull it back from her face, tying it with an elastic she had around her wrist. His heart struggled to get out of his chest, if only to be closer to her.
"Dad. What are you waiting for?"
Joey’s voice rocketed him back into action, and he stuck his hand out like a shield between him and this woman who had taken his breath from his lungs. I’m Cade Wells,
he said. This is my daughter Jocelyn.
"Joey," Joey said fiercely.
The woman met him with a smile that lit up her eyes, and shook his hand. Becca Harding. You’ve got a great piece of property here, Mr. Wells. I’m excited to learn more about it. Hi, Joey. How are you?
Good.
Joey looked down at her feet.
The thought of Becca looking him up, poring over the ranch and everything it had to offer had him hot under the collar. Well, come on in.
The two of them stepped into the foyer, which split off into a narrow hallway that led into the kitchen, living room, and dining room. It was a classic farmhouse layout with the kitchen in the back, the living room up front, and a dining room tucked in behind it. This farmhouse had been Cade’s home for as long as he could remember. But standing here now, with Becca Harding in the foyer, it seemed too small. He couldn’t get a breath in.
When was the farmhouse built?
She looked around, her gaze critical and focused. What’d it say on the fact sheet, Paul?
The eighties,
said Cade.
Original framework in the late sixties, yeah.
Paul gave him a wink and shame burned up Cade’s back. Then renovations in the eighties when your folks moved in.
And it’s gas for the washer and dryer? Same as in the kitchen?
She was too pretty, and it was killing him. No—not pretty. Gorgeous. Stunning. The last thing to take his breath away so completely had been the sunrise on the morning Joey was born. Gas?
he repeated lamely. He could feel Joey’s eyes piercing into him like tiny daggers.
Say something,
Joey said, her voice edged with worry. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Answer the question, Dad.
Yep, got that right here,
Paul said, stabbing a finger down on the clipboard he held. Gas for washer and dryer, and it’s a gas stove.
Cade shook himself out of the pulling, pulsing sensation he was drowning in. This was how he’d felt when he first met Angie, and look how that had turned out. Go ahead and look at the house,
he said gruffly. We’ll meet you out front when you’re ready for the grand tour of the ranch.
But, Dad—
Come on, Joey. Let’s go.
He swept her out the front door like he was shooing a trapped bird.
Out in the front yard, they stopped at the edge of the dewy green grass. Joey rounded on him. What’s wrong with you? You’re being mean to her.
I’m not being mean, Joey, I—
I have a mad, inexplicable crush on a woman I’ve only seen once. They took me off guard, that’s all.
You knew they were coming,
insisted Joey. How could you get taken off guard about a bunch of people who—
Shh. They’re coming out.
Joey clamped her mouth shut and stayed quiet while the four of them piled into one of the Jeeps he kept for when a tractor was too slow. Cade kept his hands tight on the wheel, his heart pounding. This was it. He was gonna show off his ranch to a woman who wanted it for her very own, and he felt like he might tear in two, both because he might be leaving and because of who he might be leaving it to.
He drove them up around the pasture where the cattle grazed in the foothills. Oh, wow,
Becca breathed. That’s quite the sight.
Sixty head of cattle,
he bit out.
I’ve been doing some research.
Becca barreled on like he hadn’t interrupted her. I think with some radio-frequency tracking in each of the cattle, I’ll be able to analyze the data about their life cycle to—
Cade cut her off with a laugh that was more of a snort. You’re thinking you’re going to tag sixty cattle with RFIDs a season? Why would you spend your time that way?
"For the data, she said, and he stole a glance in the rearview mirror to see her face. Her eyes were still alight with the thought of those numbers. What did she know about ranching, anyway?
I come from a data science background, and I think from my research it could be neatly applied to the ranch. With some of the newer technologies—"
Her voice faded away under the loud thundering of his own heartbeat. He was right. He should have known it from the clothes she wore—pressed slacks, a pink silk blouse—that this was a city woman. She wasn’t going to understand the way a ranch should be run. She just wanted to bring computers and databases and all that kind of thing and force it in where it didn’t belong. At some point, he realized Paul had taken over the tour. Cade ground his teeth together and kept silent. He might have a longstanding responsibility to the land, but it mainly annoyed him that people had no respect for the way things had been done before. It wouldn’t be his place if he sold it to her. He’d have no say. So he kept his mouth closed.
When Cade pulled the Jeep into its spot between the house and the barn, nobody said a word. Joey hopped out and ran for the farmhouse, blonde hair swinging behind her. She hadn’t wanted to cut it short, not ever in her life, but she wouldn’t tie it back, either. Joey’s vanishing act left him standing there with Paul. Becca sat frozen in her seat. A deep frown cut across her face. It didn’t disappear until Paul offered her a hand down from the Jeep.
Becca planted her feet