Henry fed Rocket another piece of waffle. “She takes after her grandmother then. Daisy Ashton was full of pluck and a woman you’d not want mad at you.” Henry cast him a quick look. “Does Bridie have the Ashton blue eyes and dark hair?”
Ethan finished his mouthful. He had no idea what color Bridie’s eyes were but the image of her long, night-dark hair that had fallen down her slender back to the sweet curve of her waist had stayed with him long after he’d closed his eyes.
“I think so. I really didn’t get a good look.”
Henry grunted again. “Then she not only has her grandmother’s spirit but also her looks.”
Ethan finished his waffle and drained his coffee mug. This conversation needed to end. He had ranch chores to do before Henry decided he wanted to help out. He’d also already wasted too much time last night watching Bridie and all the cowboys who’d made a beeline for her. There was something about her quick smile, her restless energy and the angle of her small chin that put him on edge. As much as he loved his act-now-talk-later twin and would watch his back, Ethan knew a woman who possessed the same willfulness wasn’t for him. No matter how well she filled out her faded jeans and green western shirt.
He came to his feet. “That’s great Zane’s sister has her grandmother’s spirit because I’m sure the last thing she’ll want is a babysitter. She’ll be more than capable of looking after herself while she explores. So short straw or not, you’re not getting rid of me yet.”
Instead of answering him, Henry turned his good ear toward the oversize kitchen window beside them. The clear glass provided a framed view of the scenic drive through the rolling foothills into Larkspur Ridge Ranch. A white pickup navigated its way toward the ranch house.
Henry grinned. “That’s Zane’s pickup. If I was a betting man, I’d say it was his sister behind the wheel.”
Ethan’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup. He had no doubt it was the Australian cowgirl driving. Whenever Zane visited, the truck’s wheels didn’t kick up such a thick plume of pale dust. For a road Bridie didn’t know, she sure drove fast.
Gravel crunched beneath tires as the truck approached, slowed and then parked beneath a cottonwood tree. Rocket leapt to his feet and sped out the kitchen doorway. Milo yipped and followed, his small paws sliding on the polished floorboards. Henry made no effort to stand. Instead he stared through the window as Bridie left the truck, shut the door and strode toward the ranch house.
The summer breeze caught in the loose fall of her dark hair and she lifted an impatient hand to drag the glossy strands off her face. Bridie was dressed in fitted denim and a pale pink shirt, and every sure stride showcased her lithe curves and the energy that shrouded her. Ethan swallowed.
Beautiful and spirited, this woman would lead from the front foot and embrace all that life offered. Just like his brother, she’d be a risk taker and live dangerously. A strange sense of loss slipped through Ethan. She wasn’t the type of girl who’d fall for a boring and reliable rancher.
A smile shaped Henry’s lips. “Yep. She’s an Ashton all right.” He made no effort to stand. Expression deadpan, he looked at Ethan. “Off you go. Go and greet her. You know the Doc said I’m to take it easy. It’s a long walk to the front door.”
Ethan settled for an exasperated eye roll. Even when just home from hospital, Henry hadn’t taken it easy. Ethan placed his mug and plate on the bench and at the kitchen doorway turned to waggle a finger at his father.
“You had better be sitting there when I get back. No truck driving until next Thursday.”
Henry scowled but not before Ethan caught a glimmer of laughter in his eyes.
The doorbell rang, triggering a chorus of excited barks. Rocket’s deep woof was interspersed by Milo’s higher pitched yip. Ethan made his way down the long hallway. His gut told him Zane’s sister’s outback home would ice over before she’d allow herself to be babysat. He rolled his shoulders to disperse the sharp bite of tension. There was no cause for alarm. He’d only have stubborn Henry to watch over. He wouldn’t be spending the summer keeping a headstrong and gorgeous cowgirl out of trouble.
Bridie Willis dragged in a long breath and quelled her impatience. Behind the wooden door in front of her she could hear dogs barking. If the dogs were inside, somebody was home. A mountain breeze swirled around her and brought with it the promise of rain. She briefly closed her eyes. In Australia, where rain was scarce, such a scent carried with it both hope and happiness.
The grief buried deep within her twisted and writhed. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions at bay. The aroma of rain now only reminded her of what she’d lost. No longer did she have a father to discuss rainfall figures with, to plan what crops they’d plant in the damp soil or what pastures to graze their cattle on. Stomach cancer had made sure that never again could she smell rain without weeping tears on the inside.