Chapter 2
Blayne forgot to blink for several seconds as he stared at the retreating form of the magnificent fair-haired woman his horses had almost squashed. If he’d seen her around town before, he would have remembered. She wasn’t a woman anyone would easily forget.
Long blond hair hung straight nearly to her waist. Hazel eyes, more blue than brown, snapped and sparked behind thick eyelashes. Skin that could have passed for porcelain, a perfect rosy smile, and a slender neck immediately garnered his interest. When he stepped behind her, mindful she was tall, he experienced the strangest urge to discover if she’d fit perfectly in his arms.
Dressed in a sweater the color of pumpkins with a blue scarf around her neck, she looked trendy in an artsy way. As he watched her long legs carry her to the blown glass booth, her identity clicked. He remembered reading something about a new blown glass studio opening downtown a few weeks ago, but he hadn’t paid it any mind.
Perhaps he’d have to visit her shop soon. Then again, she’d made it perfectly clear she held no interest in him from the way she escaped as quickly as possible from him and the twins. In retrospect, he supposed the two horses bearing down on her accompanied by his booming voice could be a bit unsettling, especially to someone from a big city.
Miss Brooke Roberts definitely looked like a city girl, from the top of her sun-kissed head to the tips of the fashionable brown leather boots encasing her legs up to her knees.
He closed his eyes and pictured her wearing cowboy boots, riding a horse beside him on his ranch. The picture was so clear in his mind, he had the oddest sense of déjà vu.
A firm shake of his head dislodged the unexpected vision and strange feeling. With a deep breath, he swung back on the wagon and drove it around the corner to where the line would form for hayrides.
Blayne grinned when he realized the back of Brooke’s booth faced the street where his passengers would load and disembark.
Each time he had the opportunity, he looked for her, watching as she greeted festival goers with a friendly smile. She laughed easily and chatted with people he’d known all his life. He couldn’t help but notice how well she fit into the community. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d always been a part of Romance.
With each load of passengers he drove past her booth, his interest in the woman increased. By the time he gave the horses a break, he was so intrigued with the woman, he started to walk over to her booth, and then his common sense got the best of him. He veered away before she spied him.
“Get your head on straight, man,” he muttered to himself.
This was ridiculous. He’d never been so… so… besotted with a woman before. No reasonable explanation existed for the confusing flood of emotions Brooke conjured in him. Perhaps she’d bewitched him with her smile or maybe it was her fragrance. When he’d stood close behind her as he guided her hand along the neck of Girl, he was sure he caught a whiff of apricots blended with something that tugged his thoughts toward enchanted autumn woods.
Blayne scoffed.
Enchanted autumn woods?
Great. Now, he sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl. What had that woman done to him? At thirty years of age, Blayne was no gangly boy experiencing his first crush. He was a busy, successful man, confident and in charge of his life. With a fair but firm hand, he ran the Rockin’ G Ranch, a sprawling cattle ranch his great-great-grandfather had started back in the late 1800s. He also volunteered on several boards and committees, serving on everything from the Romance hospital board to the state cattle association. When necessary, he even took in the large animals his friend Brent Todd couldn’t accommodate at Finding Forever Animal Rescue until homes could be found.
So why, then, had a chance meeting with a blonde-haired, beguiling woman left him so befuddled?
Most likely, it was because he kept too busy to dive into a romance of his own. He searched through his memories, trying to recall the last time he’d gone on a date. Unable to pinpoint a specific occasion, or even a specific girl, he decided that had to be the cause of his current unsettled state.
Blayne made his way to the sausage booth and purchased one, ate it in a few bites, then looked around to see what other food was available. He wasn’t in the mood for a caramel apple, so he wandered over to the donut booth.
An older woman with soft white curls, a ready smile, and eyes the same shade of blue as Blayne’s grinned as he stepped up to the counter.
“Sweetie! What are you doing here? I thought you were driving the wagon,” Doris Grundy said, reaching out to pinch his cheek.
He leaned out of reach and gave her a warning scowl.
She frowned and shook a finger gnarled by arthritis at him. “You’re not too big for me to turn over my knee, young man.”
Blayne quirked an eyebrow at his grandmother, refraining from telling her he’d like to see her try. “The twins and I needed a break. I thought I’d grab a bite to eat. Do you think you could spare a few of those donuts you’ve bragged about so much?”
“A few?” Doris Grundy gave her only grandchild a knowing look then filled a paper sack with half a dozen warm pumpkin donuts. “I should charge you extra, just for being sassy.”
Blayne took the sack she held out, kissed her cheek and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change, Grams. It’s all for a good cause.”
“That’s my boy,” Doris said, swiftly snaking out her hand and landing the pinch on his cheek he’d avoided earlier. He glowered at her, but didn’t pull away when she laughed. “Why on earth didn’t you shave this morning? You look like some sort of homeless bum with that deplorable scruff on your face.”
He ran a tanned hand over his jaw. “Maybe I’m making a fashion statement.” Eagerly, he removed one of the donuts from the sack and bit into it. Cinnamon and pumpkin tantalized his tastebuds as the autumn flavors filled his mouth. He quickly finished the donut and pulled another from the sack.
“The only statement you’re making is that you lack the manners your beloved grandmother worked so hard to teach you. Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick,” she ordered, handing him a napkin. “There’s no need to wolf down your food like a ravenous lion.”
Blayne ate the donut in his hand, wiped his mouth on the napkin, then winked at his grandmother. “Don’t blame me, Grams. You shouldn’t make them taste so good if you don’t want me to eat them.” He gave her a rascally grin. “You look nice today. Is Mr. Milne here?”
Doris blushed and began fiddling with a stack of white paper napkins. “How should I know what that old coot is doing? What do I look like, his secretary?”
Aware of his grandmother’s recent interest in the man who’d been trying to court her for the last few years, Blayne hoped she’d give Jess Milne a chance. When his grandfather had passed away nine years ago, Blayne feared his grandmother might give up her will to live. He sometimes thought the ranch was all that had kept her going through her consuming sorrow.
Two months shy of finishing his last year of college, Blayne’s grandfather had a heart attack and died. He’d wanted to drop out of school and return to the ranch right then, but his grandmother refused to let him do it. He stayed at Oregon State University in Corvallis, but drove home nearly every weekend to help her all he could.
By the time he graduated, he knew his grandmother would eventually recover from her overwhelming grief, and he would, too. In the meantime, they worked together to continue the legacy started so many years ago by his ancestors.
Now, all these years later, his grandmother was feisty, fun, and still an attractive woman. At seventy-four, she was full of vim and vigor, and could ride a horse as well as anyone on the Rockin’ G.
He couldn’t blame their neighbor for taking an interest in her. Jess Milne had lost his wife five years ago to respiratory failure. Blayne hoped his grandmother would give the man a chance. She still had many years left to enjoy life, at least he prayed she did. He didn’t want her to spend them alone.
With a flash of clarity, he wondered if his grandmother worried about him being alone, too. She was always trying to get him to go out on a date, even if he continually refused. Perhaps she just wanted him to experience the companionship she so greatly missed with the death of his grandfather.
Contemplative, Blayne kissed his grandmother’s cheek again. “You really do look nice, Grams. That color suits you.”
Doris glanced down at her sapphire blue blouse and looked back up at her grandson with a warm smile. “Thanks, sweetie. You better get back to the wagon. The line for rides is growing by the second. You don’t want anyone to be disappointed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Blayne said, tipping his hat to her as he walked back to where he’d left the wagon. He’d given the horses water and feed before he’d headed off to talk to Brooke.
Thoughts of her slowed his steps as he passed her booth. Although he didn’t see her there, a few people browsed over the selections. The pumpkins she crafted appeared delicate, yet sturdy. The light glistening through the glass was mesmerizing and he wondered how she created the swirls of color and textured patterns.
Maybe if he could exude a healthy dose of his trademark charm, she’d let him watch her work sometime. Fascinated with the notion, he returned to the wagon and prepared for a long afternoon of hayrides.