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“If things work out, I’ll expand the stables in the next year or two,” he said, leading her down a short hallway and past the door to Dave’s room. She felt a sliver of pain pierce her heart again but ignored it as he opened the door to the master bedroom, an expansive room big enough for a king-size bed and an armchair or two. A stone fireplace, dusty and missing a few rocks, filled one corner, and a mouse scurried quickly into a hole in the mortar. Long horns were still displayed above a thick mantel, and from one of the exposed beams of the ceiling a wagon-wheel chandelier hung from a wrought-iron chain.
“In time this’ll be my living quarters,” he said with a crooked smile. “I was going to make it the only guest suite in the place, but decided I didn’t want to bunk with the hands.” He walked to a window and cranked it open. A soft summer breeze slipped into the room, carrying with it the scent of roses and honeysuckle.
“It’ll be nice.” She was already envisioning the room as it would be. With a few dollars and a lot of elbow grease, the hardwood floors would gleam, clear-paned windows would give a view of the garden and beyond, to the fenced fields where the hills rose sharply and trees dotted the fence line. In her mind’s eye she saw volumes filling the now empty bookcase near the fireplace and warm coals glowing in the grate on a cold winter’s night.
“Why did you decide to settle in Oregon?” she asked as Luke opened a door that led from the bedroom to the backyard.
“Ralph and I had a deal. I worked for him for ten years, and he kept half of my salary—invested it in some of his real estate. I was supposed to end up with a small spread of his outside Dallas, but he really wanted to get rid of this place, which is quite a bit larger.” Luke eyed the craggy hillsides. “I needed an excuse to get out of Texas. This was it.” He turned his attention back to her, and she felt the weight of his gaze, hot and steady, against her skin.
“Why did you want to leave Texas?”
His lips tightened just a fraction, as if he didn’t like the intrusion into his personal life. “It was time. I lived there most of my life.”
She sensed there was more to his story but that no amount of prying would get it out of him. Luke Gates was a private man with a past he preferred to keep to himself. A secretive man. The kind to avoid.
They walked to the front of the house, past the overgrown rose garden and a sagging clothesline. Luke frowned as he eyed the grounds. “It’s gonna take a lot of work.”
“But it will be worth it, don’t you think?” Katie asked, some of her enthusiasm returning.
“I hope so.”
“Oh, sure. The area is primed for this kind of thing. Are you going to let your guests brand and rope and whatever else it is a cowboy does?”
“That’s just the routine stuff. I’m planning to have trail rides that last from eight hours to four days. Some will be the real thing—roughing it up in the mountains complete with pack horses and a mess wagon. But I’ll have the more deluxe groups as well, where caterers will be set up along the trail. Food, drink and entertainment provided. The only thing the guests will have to do is ride. Their tents, cots and sleeping bags will be set up for them while they’re out riding. When they return, they can relax around a gourmet meal, and I’ll even include portable showers to wash the dust off.”
She was impressed. This had obviously been his dream for a large part of his life.
“For the people who want to stay down here on the ranch, we’ll not only do the regular work, but we’ll have horse races during the day and hayrides at night. They can swim in the river, or raft or canoe if they want to, and in the winter—well, not this year, but hopefully next winter—I’ll organize ski trips to Mount Ashland or hunting expeditions up in the hills.”
“So you’ll be open year-round.”
“Mmm.” He nodded and eyed her speculatively. “This isn’t an ‘official’ visit, is it?”
“‘Official’?”
“You’re not up here scoutin’ up a story for your paper?”
“Not today.” She offered him a smile. “Believe me, when I interview you for the Review, you’ll know it.”
“Good.”
She glanced away. “I just wanted to thank you again.” And to find out what happened to Dave Sorenson. And now she knew—the sad truth. Her heart began to ache again, and she knew she should leave this ranch. There were too many ghosts from her past still wandering through the old house. And of course, there was the other problem that came in the form of a rangy Texan who played havoc with her mind—whether she wanted him to or not. “I’d better be off. Josh has probably driven his grandma crazy by now.”
“How is he—your boy?”
“Better, I think,” she said with a grin. “He’s getting a little cranky, and my mom always said that a bad mood is a sure sign that the patient is getting better.”
“Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”
She thought of Brynnie and all her husbands. “Some people might disagree on that one. She seems to get married at the drop of a hat.”
“But you don’t.”
“Me?” she said, startled. “Well, no. I, uh, tend to think marriage is more of a commitment than Mom does.”
“Is that why you didn’t marry Josh’s dad?”
She felt a needle of warning, the way she always did when the subject of Josh’s paternity came up. “I told you we were just kids.”
