“Howdy.” The cowboy stated as he tipped his hat toward them.
His horse stood feet from the truck as it adjusted its position beside the truck. She heard the horse’s hoofs tap the ground as it appeared to trot in place. The cowboy’s deep brown eyes held her gaze as Ron made the introductions.
“Stacy, this is Eric Cantrell. Eric, this is Stacy Porter. She’s staying at Marie’s place.” The pounding in her heart and her body’s instant attraction to the man blocked her hearing.
“Are you okay, Stacy?” Ron asked, and she immediately cleared her throat.
“I’m fine. I think the jet leg is kicking in,” she responded, thinking quickly.
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Marie’s farm land borders the Triple C Ranch,” he replied with pride, and Stacy smiled at his deep voice and thick Texas accent. Trepidation filled her body as she realized she was attracted to the handsome stranger. That didn’t sit right with her at all. Someone was stalking her back in New York. She had become a near victim of a sexual attack. Being flirtatious with some sexy-looking cowboy was definitely on the top ten stupidest things she could do. She swallowed hard and ignored the tingling, schoolgirl attraction.
“What’s the Triple C?” she asked, not even knowing how she was forming a complete sentence in front of the cowboy. She felt her body temperature rise as she caught his gaze upon her lips, and immediately she reminded herself about why she didn’t trust men. Even ones who sported a pair of blue jeans better than any New York male model she’d ever seen. She could see the definition in his thigh as it remained in place against the sleek coat of the black stallion. Even the horse had muscles. Stacy brought her attention back to the cowboy’s face as he explained about what and where the Triple C ranch was. So the letter “C” stood for Cantrell, and his name was Eric Cantrell. Grateful to have retained that much information, she forced herself to look away from the delicacy of a man and out toward the open pasture. Eric had come from out of nowhere. It was intriguing and intimidating. She was a city girl, used to city life, and anything that popped out in front of her unexpectedly usually meant trouble. She wasn’t expecting this. Her focus was to get away from her stalker and start anew.
“Well we’d better get going. I’m sure Marie is getting worried. I’m sure Stacy’s ready to get settled in.”
“You staying with Marie Lemorte?” Eric asked as he looked her over through the driver side window of the truck.
She nodded her head and straightened her shoulders. The way the man looked at her was hot and intense. She didn’t want that type of attention and especially not now. She needed to stay focused on herself and her new life. And there was this feeling inside of her that she never had before.
“Well then, I’ll be seeing you around,” Eric added, and she gave a small noncommittal smile, being sure not to look him directly in the eyes. Ron immediately began to drive, and only a few minutes later, they arrived at Marie’s farm.
The place was stunning. From the long dirt driveway all the way to the old house, it was picturesque. There was a tall woman with short blonde hair descending the stairs as the truck pulled up in front of the house. Stacy swallowed hard as she took in the woman’s features.
“Are you okay, Stacy?” Ron asked as he placed the truck in a parked position. Stacy turned toward him and spoke her mind. “She doesn’t look sick at all.”
“That’s ’cause I ain’t sick, darlin’,” Marie stated as she opened the passenger-side door so Stacy could get out. Immediately the large woman pulled her into an embrace. Stacy was shocked as she absorbed the strength and the abrasiveness of Marie. Pulling back, Marie smiled.
“You are absolutely gorgeous! Let’s get your things to your house, and then I can show you around and explain a few things.”
The woman was definitely bossy and very energetic, and Stacy wondered why Millie lied to her about her aunt being sick. Wasn’t that the reason for Stacy to move out to Texas so that she could help Millie’s aunt?
“What do you mean, my house? I thought I was staying in your house to help you.”
“No need, darling. Millie said you were startin’ over. That means y’all will need space and some alone time.”
“But—”
“Now don’t be frettin’ over nonsense. You will be helping me out, and I will be paying you. Being a city gal, you’ve got a lot to learn about country life and farm life. But let’s not talk about that now. Follow me,” she stated, and Stacy had no choice but to follow as she clenched her teeth closed. She didn’t want to argue, but she also didn’t feel comfortable now that she was led here under false pretenses. Stacy wondered exactly how much Millie had told her aunt about Stacy’s situation in New York.
“Excuse me, Miss Lemorte.”
The vibrant older woman waved a hand in the air as Stacy nearly jogged to keep up with the woman’s long strides.
“Call me Marie. You can even call me Aunt Marie.”
“Aunt Marie?” Stacy questioned then nearly plowed into the older woman as she halted about a half a yard in front of a small, beat-up cottage.
“Yes?”
“No, I mean, how can I call you Aunt Marie?”
Marie placed her hands on Stacy’s shoulders and looked down to hold Stacy’s gaze. She felt the woman’s strength through the strong hold on her own shoulders. Marie reeked of superiority and toughness.
“You earned that right when you risked your life to save my Millie. She’d be in a hospital or six feet under if it weren’t for your bravery and friendship. Call me Aunt Marie and I’ll call you ‘New York.’”
She released her shoulders, and Stacy watched as the woman pulled something out of her jean pocket and headed up the porch steps.
“Now I know it ain’t no fancy New York apartment, but I understand that you spent some time doing handiwork and painting. Millie mentioned that your best friend Anna suggested working to fix up your new place would be a kind of therapy. That’s a real nice friend you got there, too. I hope to meet Anna some day. Anyway, here is the key. I had two extra made up for you so that you can place a spare in a safe location.”