Free The Cowboy's Girl Next Door: A BWWM Cowboy Romance by Monica Castle Page A

walk to the orchard. “Lacey’s been pushing me to do something like that for years now. She’s even had Cella design a website for the ranch, and I know she’s just waiting for me to give her the go ahead. It’s a big responsibility, though, taking care of other people’s kids. I’m just not sure we’re ready.”
     
    Claire nodded her understanding and they rode the rest of the way in companionable silence.
     
    When they arrived at the orchard, Jess dismounted to open the gate and led Horatio through it. Claire followed, and after he’d secured the gate behind them, they put the horses in the small enclosure behind the boarded up fruit stand. They watched them for a moment, then, satisfied the horses were getting along, they took the canvas bags Jasper had sent along and went in search of ripe berries.
     
    The berry patch was abuzz with life and the rich smell of sweet juices. Much to Claire’s delight, the blackberries were full and ripe, and they lost no time filling the bags. Jess told her about his mother’s work on the orchard, how she’d insisted on adding the fig trees, the fruit being a childhood favorite. They laughed as Claire shared her mother’s first experiences making fig preserves, how she put in far too much sugar and  turned the expensive treat into a caramelized mess. “My dad ate it, though, every bit. He didn’t want her to feel like she’d wasted anything.” She grew quiet then, turning her attention back to the blackberry bush.
     
    “Your dad sounds like a good man,” Jess said.
     
    “The best,” Claire answered. “We lost him last year.”
     
    “Oh,” Jess replied, then added, “I would have liked to have met him. I’m sorry for your loss.”
     
    Claire nodded, her lips tight as she tried to fight the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. This was too much. The vastness of the space, the enormity of the quiet, and his gentle kindness threatened to overwhelm her. This was what she’d wanted, the peace of the country, the openness of space around her, and yet she hadn’t realized that it meant opening herself, too.
     
    She sniffed. “Thank you. I’m sorry for yours, too.” She looked around the expanse of the orchard, the neatly rowed trees extending off as far as her eyes could see. “Your mother sounds incredibly kind and generous.”
     
    Jess’s warm smile was intimate and comforting. “That she was.” He straightened up quickly and handed her his bag of berries. “Be right back.”
     
    Claire stood, confused, then shrugged. Feeling a bit uncomfortable in the hot sun, she walked over to a nearby oak and sat in its shade while she waited. She thought of her father, how he would have loved to visit such a place, how it would have sparked memories of his childhood on a Georgia farm.
     
    Her mother had never truly understood his love of the country, but Claire had right away, and again she thanked him for the careful investments he made in her future. She was here, under this tree, because of his love, and for that, she was oh so grateful.
     
    Jess returned with a faded blanket and a small ice chest. Inside were a few bottles of cider. “We don’t have a press here. Send them out after harvest, but I promise you, the apples you’ll taste here come directly from our ranch.” He opened a couple of bottles and they sat sipping the sweet tart drinks as they watched the insects buzz around in the hot May sun.
     
    “How did he die? If you don’t mind me asking.”
     
    The question hung between them, and for a moment Jess worried he’d gone too far, too quickly. She took a swig of the cider and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Jess was transfixed at the sight, her elegant movements making a gesture his mother would have chastised in him, seem as natural and right as breathing.
    “The doctors said it was his liver, his kidneys,” she said flatly, “but he said it was ‘the city.’ Typical story: country boy moves to the big city, gets