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He realized he was wrong.
There was one sister who would go along with any plan that benefited her family.
Now the only question was, would he?
Chapter Eight
Cloe had never been to the Remington Ranch, but that hadn’t stopped her from imagining what a wealthy rancher’s house would look like. As she parked her car in front, she realized her imagination had been way off.
She had envisioned a grand ranch-style home fitting one of the biggest ranchers in the county. But the two-story brick house was smaller than her family’s farmhouse . . . and not nearly as homey. There were no bright flower gardens bordering the front. No cozy swing and patio furniture on the porch. No pretty shutters and window boxes to add color to the bland off-white Austin stone. Probably because the Remingtons had no women to add all those cozy touches.
Which meant they didn’t know the joy of seeing flowers bloom in a profusion of colors, or the calming peace of sitting on a porch swing and watching the brilliant sunset fade into twilight.
They didn’t know what a home could be.
The thought made her sad. She was still standing there looking at the house when the front door opened and Sam Remington stepped out onto the porch. He looked like Rome. Or Rome looked like him. He wasn’t as tall or broad shouldered as his son, but the facial features were the same. With his silver hair, he looked like the actor James Brolin. Like Rome, his eyes pinned her with their smoky intensity.
“Can I help you?”
She moved up the porch steps with an outstretched hand. “Hello, Mr. Remington. I’m Cloe Holiday.”
He shook her hand. “I knew you were a Holiday. Your eyes are a dead giveaway.”
She smiled. “It’s a family trait. Eyes from my mama and our stubbornness from our daddy.”
Sam snorted, but didn’t comment. “So what brings you here, Miss Holiday?”
“I was wondering if Rome was home. And please call me Cloe.”
“He’s out on the range at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”
She held out the tuxedo jacket she’d forgotten to take with her to Cooper Springs. “I wanted to return his jacket. He left it at the wedding.” Although that wasn’t the only reason she’d come.
Sam’s eyes registered surprise and she didn’t know if it was over his son forgetting his jacket or a Holiday returning it. He took it with a nod. “Thank you. I’ll make sure he gets it.” He studied her. “You have your mother’s cheekbones and chin too.” It was true, but she was surprised he was so familiar with her mother’s features that he could make the comparison. Of course, they had attended high school together. “I hear your father is selling the ranch,” he continued, pulling her away from her thoughts.
She wasn’t sure how to answer. She had thought her grandmother had finally realized they had to sell the ranch. Last night had proven her wrong. Mimi was more adamant than ever about keeping the ranch. Rome showing up and climbing the trellis had given her hope that her plan to marry one of her granddaughters off to a Remington was going to work . . . even if Rome had made it clear he didn’t want to get married. Which was why Cloe was there. She wanted to apologize and make sure Rome knew she had no part in her grandmother’s scheme.
“Hey, Cloe!”
She turned to find Casey walking from the stables with a big, welcoming smile. She had always liked Casey. Although most women did. He was a rascally charmer who had a way of making every woman feel like they had his full attention.
“So what brings you to Casa Remington?” He pulled off his cowboy hat as he climbed the steps of the porch, revealing his mussed golden locks. “Please tell me you’re here to see me and not my boring brother. Rome never has known what to do with a beautiful woman.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry, but I’m here to see Rome. And since I’ve never been beautiful that works out just fine.”
“Not beautiful? You must not own a mirror.”
His father interrupted his son’s outrageous flirting. “Did you get that new mare taken care of, Casey?”
Casey didn’t even glance at his father. “Of course, Sam. Your wish is always my command.” He held out his arm. “Come on, Cloe. I’ll take you to Rome.”
She glanced at Sam as they headed down the porch steps. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Remington.”
He merely nodded.
Once they were away from the house, Casey apologized. “You’ll have to pardon my daddy. We don’t get much company. So what brings you to the devil’s lair?”
“I need to talk to your brother and I should probably talk to you too. I don’t doubt for a second you’ll be getting another text or phone call from my grandmother about marrying one of her granddaughters in exchange for the ranch.”
