Once a Rancher by Linda Lael Miller Page B

and could do better.”
    At least that point wasn’t argued. “Maybe,” he muttered, and it sounded like an apology.
    Luckily, that was when they pulled into the ranch drive and drove under the large curved sign with the Carson emblem—a giant C and two racing mustangs—over the entrance. Grace carefully guided the car down the lane and changed the subject. “I hope you remembered to put on sunscreen.”
    She probably deserved the look of disgust he gave her and she stifled a wry laugh. “What? Real men don’t get sunburns, is that it?” she quipped, hoping to lighten the moment.
    Slater was just coming out of the house with a small cooler and waved as they drove up. The only other time Grace had been there it was dark, so she studied the place as she parked and got out of the car. First of all, the house was huge. She could understand why all three Carson sons still lived on the ranch. With red brick walls and white pillars, the place would’ve been at home amid giant trees trailing Spanish moss instead of framed by the mountains, but it was certainly a beautiful old house. Steps led up to a wide veranda with a row of rockers on one side and an ornate glass-topped table with chairs on the other. Pots of brilliant blooming flowers gave a splash of color, obviously Mrs. Carson’s touch. Grace couldn’t quite picture the rancher, the winemaker or the film producer out there wielding a watering can.
    â€œRight on time. That’s great,” Slater said. “We’re due at the airstrip in half an hour. Thanks for letting Ryder come along with us, Grace.”
    â€œI appreciate your thinking of him.” She said it primly, and his response was a slow smile and a hint of laughter in those oh-so-blue eyes. The man was in full cowboy mode, with denim shirt, jeans and boots, hat in place.
    Just then a young girl dashed out of the house, flew down the steps and grabbed Slater’s hand. She wore pink jeans, a floral shirt and little plaid tennis shoes. Young, still in grade school, maybe nine or ten, Grace guessed. Her voice was excited. “Daddy, are we leaving now ?”
    Daddy?
    â€œYep, in about a minute. Daisy, this is Grace, and the tall one next to her is Ryder.”
    Slater’s daughter was the very image of him, with thick dark hair and long-lashed eyes the same vivid shade of blue. She smiled shyly. “Nice to meet you.”
    Grace automatically smiled back, not sure why she felt so unnerved. Slater was in his midthirties, so it was hardly shocking that he might have a child. It was just that he’d never mentioned being married or (more likely) divorced—or that he had a daughter. Then again, she’d met him only a few times, three in total, and he was hardly obligated to relate his life story. “You, too, Daisy.”
    Thankfully, Ryder was polite enough to say hi without prompting.
    Slater correctly interpreted Ryder’s expression. “Don’t worry, the ladies aren’t going to the game. Daisy and her mother are going out to eat and do a little shopping. Their interest in football is on a level with mine for malls and ice cream parlors.”
    A woman came out of the door just then, fumbling in her purse. “Sorry, I left my cell in Daisy’s room by accident when we were going through her clothes.”
    Instantly, Grace sized her up. Stylishly cut dark hair that fell to her shoulders, hazel eyes, high cheekbones, willowy figure... She was strikingly attractive.
    Slater said drily, “I’ve given up on you ever being punctual. That’s why I pad arrival and departure time. Grace, this is Raine McCall. Raine, Grace Emery. I’ll introduce you to Ryder when we join him in the truck. We all set?”
    His ex or whatever she was smiled at Grace apologetically. “I’m afraid Slater’s right. No matter how hard I try, I’m late for everything.” Raine fairly twinkled with