I clear my throat. “Yeah, Dad. I know.”
“I didn’t give much thought to anyone but myself.”
“Wait a minute. I’m not—”
He gestures for me to stop. “I’m not saying you’re selfish. You’re not, Dale. Not at all. You’d do anything for any one of us. I know that. I wasn’t selfish either. I’d have taken a bullet for any of my siblings. Still would. But I didn’t rely on them. I didn’t let myself get close to them.”
“I’m close to Donny and the girls. I always have been.”
Dad sighs. “I’m not explaining this very well.”
“Just because you found your soul mate at my age doesn’t mean the same thing’s in the cards for me.”
It absolutely isn’t. I don’t believe in soul mates, first of all. Besides, is being self-reliant such a bad thing? I open my mouth to ask when—
“Good morning!” Ashley walks into the kitchen, like a ray of sunshine.
Did I really just think that? In those stupid words?
Fuck.
“Good morning, Ashley,” Dad says. “You’re up early.”
“I’ve always been an early riser.”
Darla scurries over. “Coffee, Miss Ashley?”
“I don’t drink coffee, but thanks.”
Just how is she so chipper in the morning without coffee?
“Orange juice, then?”
“You read my mind,” she gushes.
Yeah, such a California girl. And who the hell doesn’t drink coffee? We were raised on coffee. My mom makes the strongest and best-tasting coffee in the world. She personally teaches all our cooks to brew the perfect pot.
Darla pours her a glass of juice and sets it in front of her. “Not hand squeezed, I’m afraid. That’s probably what you’re used to in California.”
“This is perfect. Thanks.” Ashley takes a drink.
And I try not to look as she licks a drop of juice from her lower lip.
But I can’t help myself. Her lips are as luscious as the rest of her. She’s sitting in a tank top and cutoff denims. No bra, of course. Damn. No makeup either, that I can see, and her long blond locks are pulled up into a high ponytail. Her blue eyes are sparkling like aquamarines.
I have no idea how I look. I only have one mirror I use in the guesthouse. In my bathroom, and I didn’t bother looking in it today. I’m still wearing the jeans I had on yesterday. I discarded the green button-down when I got home this morning and traded it in for a black T-shirt, my cowboy boots for leather moccasins.
My hair is probably an unruly mess.
And why do I care?
I don’t.
Except that I do.
I want to look my best for Ashley White.
“Did you sleep well, Ashley?” Dad asks.
“I did, thanks. Your guest room is amazing. I think that’s the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.”
“That used to be Dale’s room,” Dad says.
Ashley’s cheeks redden as mine warm. Really? They gave her my old room? Granted, they turned it into a guest room when I moved out back, but still…
Why my room?
The thought of Ashley in my old bed…
Of course, it’s not my old bed. Just the frame. I took my mattress with me.
“I want you to know, Ashley,” Dad goes on, “that you’re completely welcome here, and Jade and I are happy to have you. We don’t want you feeling awkward because Diana won’t be here.”
“Oh, I don’t.” Though her red cheeks betray her words.
Silence for a few seconds.
“Where’s Mom?” I finally ask. “And the girls?”
“I can’t speak for Diana,” Dad says, “but Bree should be up. We’ve got some work to do in the orchard.”
“On a Saturday?” Ashley says.
I let out a guffaw. “Apples and peaches still grow on Saturdays. Ranching doesn’t have weekends.”
“My son’s right,” Dad says. “We’re used to working twenty-four seven around here.”
Ashley turns to me. “Do you need me to do something today, then? I thought I wasn’t starting until Monday.”
I open my mouth, but Dad answers for me.
“No, no. Take the weekend. Dale will have you working harder than you’ve ever worked before. Take these last two days off.”
She nods, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
But I know.
She’s freaked about losing her weekends. Well, what did she expect on a ranch during harvest season?
“As a matter of fact,” I say, “I could use your help today.”
“Dale…” Dad looks at me sternly.
“Hey, she asked. And you’re right. We all work our asses off here.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ashley
Damn, that voice.
I don’t know whether to love it or hate it. I mean, I love it, but it seriously blocks out all other sounds and colors. Such a strange phenomenon for someone who’s used to being overwhelmed by senses all the time.
He’s bluffing.
Maybe.
Or maybe not. I’ll call his bluff.
“Sure, what can I do today?” I ask.
He takes a sip of coffee. Yeah, he expected me to beg off.
“Never mind,” he says. “I have to go into town. My fridge is empty.”
“Why don’t you take Ashley with you?” Dad suggests. “Show her around Snow Creek.”