Free The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3) by Cora Seton Page B

proved I was the best vineyard worker. Mr. Cassidy couldn't bear to see me go."
    "You have to take time off, though," Rob said. "Live a little. Have some fun, right?" That had always been his mantra, anyhow.
    Raoul became stern. "Fun is for people like you, Mr. Matheson. People who have all they need already. Me and Eduardo, we work, work, work to survive. Fun is being alive another day."
    "Fun is food to eat at night," Eduardo put in wryly.
    Rob scratched the back of his neck. He always seemed to be saying or doing the wrong thing these days. "Do you like the work, at least?"
    "Work is work," Raoul said. "But yes, I like the growing things. I like to see the grapes reach the harvest. My muscle," he patted his arms, "my sweat – it is turned into food right before my eyes!"
    Rob smiled at that. He'd never thought of work that way – that sometimes the result of the labor could be so tangible. He supposed it was like that on the ranch, but since he only did a task here, a job there, he didn't take in the whole process.
    And whose fault is that?
    He shifted uncomfortably. It was his own damn fault, he knew that. He barely showed up for the small tasks his father and brothers set him. He sure as hell didn't work, work, work like Raoul was advising Eduardo to do. He'd never proved himself the best man for the job in any tangible way.
    Was that because he was too busy bucking his family's hierarchy, and getting back at his brothers for their earlier misdeeds, or was it because ranching didn't interest him all that much?
    And if he wasn't interested in ranching, what did he want to do?
    He surveyed the fields around him again.
    No, he wasn't a farmer, or vintner, or whatever you called it. His love was horses and the rodeo. No way you'd find him mucking about in fields.
    Even if it did look interesting.
    "Mind if I try?" he asked Raoul, not sure why he wanted to prune grapevines. Something about watching the other men thin the foliage made his fingers itch to grab a pair of shears and get to work, though. Maybe it was the way the vines looked refreshed afterward – like they could breathe better.
    Raoul had explained that the grapes were ripening and becoming sweet. Cutting back the leaves to the perfect balance of fruit to foliage pushed this process forward. According to Raoul, that was highly desired.
    Duncan, coming back to his side after finishing his conversation, raised his eyebrows when he saw what Rob was doing. "You want to work?"
    "Sure. I've got nothing better to do. Still an hour until lunch time, right?"
    Duncan looked at his watch. "Try two. You get bored, you come and find me; we'll finish that tour." But the man had a smirk on his face, probably thrilled to leave his rival toiling in the fields like one of the hired help. Rob didn't give that a second thought, though.
    "Show me again which leaves to take off," he said to Raoul.
    By the end of the afternoon, Rob's back ached in ways he hadn't thought possible. He had always considered himself a strong man, and for all his tendencies to put pleasure before responsibility, he knew how to do a full day's work, but the repetitive process of removing foliage from the bottom of the plants – leaving just enough leaves to shade the ripening grapes from the full-on sun – turned out to be harder than he would have expected.
    Raoul and the other men shared their lunches with him during their short break, and only afterwards did Rob realize he probably should have sought out Morgan and eaten with her.
    Still, when he went to meet her in the parking lot at five o'clock, he felt the satisfaction of having worked with his hands and done a good job. Why didn't ranching ever feel like that?
    Maybe it was time for a career change.
     

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    "I can't believe you worked in the vineyards," Morgan said again as they entered her apartment.
    "Yeah, well get used to it," Rob drawled. He'd been evasive about his intentions in helping out the