She nodded. Then she waited a couple of seconds before starting. “Dear God, thank You for letting me find the ranch and the Cutter family. Thank You for blessing me so much and showing me what’s really important. I love You, too. Amen.”
John reached out, found her hand and held it as he prayed, “Dear Lord, we love You and we praise You. You have a mighty plan, and I am grateful that You brought Dana into our lives and into our hearts. Thank You for her desire to be a part of our lives forever.” He silently added, thank You for her desire to be a part of my life forever, Lord. And bless our lives together, always. “In Your Son’s holy name, Amen.”
Abi’s low snore had started before John completed his prayer, and he chuckled as he tucked her sleeping bag under her chin and then kissed her cheek. Dana also moved toward the sleeping child and kissed her cheek before following John back out of the tent.
They sat on the log by the firelight, John wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “She does love you,” he said, touched that Dana had so quickly earned such a prominent place in Abi’s heart.
“I love her, too.” She snuggled closer against him, and John relished this quiet time together. He’d enjoyed hiking with Abi up the mountain and setting up the camp, and Georgiana and Landon had been excited about having a night to themselves while knowing their little girl was having a good time with John and Dana, but John had also looked forward to the time after Abi went to sleep, time he could be completely alone with Dana. They had so much to talk about, so much to plan for their future together. And because of the lack of interest in the dude ranch, John wasn’t certain how to prepare at all.
“Abi has been so excited about the dude ranch, and she’s still planning to teach the kids how to ride.” He couldn’t disguise the sadness in his tone. He’d had such high hopes, and so had Dana. “Have you talked to Ryan, or any of the other board members?”
She nodded, but kept her focus on the fire, dying down slowly and causing the last bit of firelight to fade.
“I don’t suppose they’ll be apt to fund any additional projects like this unless something changes and we start booking reservations.” The statement didn’t require a response. He knew the answer and, obviously, so did she, because she didn’t say a word. But a glance at her face caused John to see her disappointment, when a thick tear caught the moonlight and slid slowly down her cheek.
“I’m going to take another look at our advertising, the website, the ranch itself, over the next few days and see if there’s something we’re missing. Maybe we aren’t targeting the right audience.” He racked his brain to remember everything he’d learned in his business classes at the university. But he knew the reality; Dana had some of the most capable advertising agents available through Brooks International, and she’d used them to generate the campaign that presumably cost a small fortune. And John didn’t have a single reservation on the books.
“Yeah, maybe we’ve missed something,” she whispered, but the optimism he’d grown accustomed to hearing each time she spoke was gone. She’d started to give up on the ranch, and John prayed that she hadn’t started giving up on him. He had to make the ranch work somehow. There had to be some hook, some marketing tool, that the experts had missed. Surely.
He ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to provide the comfort he knew she needed. He’d work things out for her, make this investment turn into a good thing, one way or another. He couldn’t let her fail because of him.
“I need to tell you something.” Her voice was hesitant, nervous.
John’s stomach tightened. “Okay.”
“That call I got earlier in the tent—it was Ryan. And he reminded me of some obligations I have in Chicago—” she paused “—next week.”
John’s hand stopped moving against her arm, his throat tightened so much he wasn’t sure he could swallow. She wasn’t staying. She was heading back to Chicago. Leaving the country for the city, because he didn’t have anything to offer her here.
“I will come back,” she quickly added, “as soon as I can.”
“Right.” He couldn’t bear to look at her, so he kept his attention focused on the last embers on the fire, dying steadily as he watched. Odd how something so alive, so exhilarating, one minute could so quickly turn to ash the next.
Chapter Twelve
John attempted to be cordial to the woman he loved as they packed up the camp this morning and hiked back, but his effort at manners was futile with the realization that she was going back to Chicago. He’d had such high hopes for the dude ranch and had already started picturing the two of them running the place together, having a successful business and also assisting other would-be entrepreneurs in doing the same. Dana could oversee that part of Brooks International while living on the farm with John, being married to John, spending many nights camping together with her holding a child in her arms the way she’d held Abi last night. Except the child would be theirs. In his vision, the ranch thrived. And Dana didn’t feel as though she were missing out by spending her life with an Alabama rancher.
But the dude ranch hadn’t panned out. And John would be lying if he said he had anything worthy to offer her if she moved here. He didn’t want to live off her inheritance, wouldn’t be seen as a charity case for the heiress who’d been unfortunate enough to lose her heart to the broke cowboy from the sticks. He wanted to be worthy of her love, and he would be. He simply had to figure out how.
He’d been at the cabin less than an hour after leaving Abi and Dana at the main house when his phone rang, the screen displaying a Chicago number. Not Dana’s number, but the same area code. “Hello.”
“Is this John Cutter?” The guy sounded anxious.
“Yes.”
“This is Ryan Brooks. I’ve been trying to reach Dana all morning and can’t get her to answer her phone. Is she with you?”
“No, but I can get her a message. Her phone should work now, though, because we got in from the mountain over an hour ago. Have you tried her in the past hour?”
“Repeatedly.”
Obviously, Dana didn’t want to talk to her brother, but John felt obligated to at least relay the fact that the guy was trying so hard to reach her. “Well, as I said, I can get her a message.”
“Yes, if you’d do that, I’d appreciate it.” He paused. “I texted her, too. Do you get texts there?”
John tried not to respond sarcastically to the insulting question. This was Dana’s brother, and if John had his way, eventually, Ryan Brooks would be his brother-in-law. “Yes, we get texts.”
“Then she may know already, but in any case, her plane is waiting for her at the landing strip in Stockville.”
John felt as if he’d been punched straight to the gut. “She’s leaving this morning?” He wasn’t really asking, merely stating the fact so that his heart could process the reality.
“She’d better be. She told me she’d watch over things here while I’m away next week. And she’s representing our company at the Art Institute’s grand opening of our father’s wing on Tuesday.” He paused a couple of beats, then added, “She told me last night that she was still attending the gala with William.”
“William?”
“William Montgomery, the guy she’s dating here.”
Another sucker punch, but John swallowed through the shock. “I’ll make sure she gets to the plane.”
Within minutes, he’d saddled Red and started back toward the house, where he found several suitcases on the front porch, and Abi sitting on the front steps with her head in her hands. Usually, she’d stand and run toward John as he approached, but this time, she merely sat there looking defeated.
John left Red in the barn and then gathered his courage before starting to the house. He had to hold it all together for Abi, and for Dana.
“There’s my newest camper. Did you te
ll your folks about how much fun we had?”
She sniffed, wiped at both of her eyes. “Yeah, but then Miss Dana told me she had to go back to Chicago today, and now I’m sad.”
He knew exactly how she felt. Dropping beside her on the step, he tugged at a pigtail. “It’ll be okay.” His words were spoken to his precious niece, but the sentiment was directed specifically to his heart.
The front door of the house creaked as it opened, and John turned to see Georgiana and Dana each carrying a small piece of luggage. “Is that the last of it?” he asked, not missing Dana’s wet cheeks and trembling mouth.
“Oh, John, I didn’t know you were here. Dana heard from her brother this morning...”
“I know. I heard from him, too.”
Dana’s head shook. “I’m sorry about that. I was going to come down to the cabin and tell you myself, but I didn’t know he’d send the plane this early, and then he texted again telling me you were on your way to take me to the airport.”
“It’s okay.” John again directed the words not only to the stunning city girl, but also to his heart. “I’ll load your bags in the truck.”
Then he gave Abi a quick kiss on the forehead, grabbed a couple of the larger pieces of luggage and somehow managed to keep his composure while putting all of Dana’s things in the bed of his truck. The three females were quiet on the porch as he loaded the remainder of her bags, then Abi’s sobs broke free as she stood and wrapped her arms around Dana.
“You said you wanted to stay here forever. That’s what you told me.” Abi’s heartfelt words made John’s heart clench.
“I know, sweetie,” Dana said. “And I meant what I said, but I—I have to go back home to take care of some things.”
“So you’ll come back? After you take care of everything?”
Dana glanced at John. “I want to.”
Abi swiped at her cheeks again. “Don’t wait too long. I’m going to miss you, and Uncle John will miss you, too.”
That was a major understatement.
“I’ll miss all of you.” Dana stepped toward Georgiana, hugged her. “Tell Landon I’m sorry I didn’t get to see him before I left, but I had no idea I’d be leaving so early this morning.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“And thank you for letting me stay with all of you. I can’t say how wonderful it’s been.”
“We wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
Dana gave Abi another hug. “Love you, Abi.”
“I love you, Miss Dana.”
Then she turned toward John. “I guess I’m ready.”
He nodded, walked ahead of her toward the truck and opened her door. Then he fought against the pull of her sweet scent as she eased past him and sat inside. Circling the cab, he got behind the wheel and started the truck, then began driving the pretty city girl away from the farm the same way he had so many times over the past four weeks. But this time, he wasn’t taking her to church, or to the town square, or to the coffeehouse in Stockville, or to any of the other places they’d visited together. And this time, they wouldn’t be returning to the farm, laughing and chatting about their journey and about the differences between his small town and her big city. This time he wouldn’t bring her back at all.
“It’ll be okay,” he repeated, more to himself than to the woman in his passenger seat.
Her hand moved on top of his on the gearshift, and she gently squeezed. “Will it, John? Because you haven’t been the same since I said I needed to go back for a few days. I told Abi the truth. I want to come back here. And I told you the truth. I want to live here forever, with you.”
John rounded a curve and focused on what to say. He could tell her that was fine, for her to do whatever she needed to do in Chicago and then return, and they could live off her fortune the rest of their lives.
And he could feel like a complete failure, the rest of his life.
But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that.
“I don’t want you to come back, Dana.”
“You don’t?”
He continued driving, knew they would reach the airport fairly quickly and didn’t want to leave anything unsaid, and he needed her to understand his feelings before she got on that plane. “The dude ranch hasn’t made it, and I get that. I’m not sure if I can make it work or not, but I realize that our first effort at making it happen failed. And I also know that I can’t support you with what I’m making now.”
“I don’t need...”
He shook his head. “Hear me out. I know you don’t need me to support you when it comes to the two of us being together long term, but I need it. I would never feel good about myself, would never feel worthy of you, if I didn’t somehow make a living on my own. Not just scraping by but really providing for my family.”
“So—” she looked up as the landing strip came into view, a shiny white plane parked at one end with Brooks International written across the side in navy and gold “—so are you saying that we can’t have a relationship at all? Because that’s not what I want, John. I love you.”
Have mercy, she was making this hard, but John couldn’t budge on this. He had to feel worthy of her love. “I love you, too, more than you could possibly realize.” He couldn’t imagine living without her, didn’t know if he could breathe without her. “But I can’t live like that, feeling that I’m not good enough. I—won’t.”
“But then, what about us? Is it—are we over?”
“I need time, Dana. Time to figure out if I can make the dude ranch work, or to see if I can make something else work. And if I can’t, if I’m meant to work two or three jobs the rest of my life and just scrape by, then so be it, but I won’t make you live that way.”
“What if I want to live whatever way I can, to be with you?”
“You’ve got obligations in Chicago. You have people who are important to you there, and you should go and take care of that part of your life. And while you do, I’ll see what kind of a life I can have here, and whether I can be everything you need.”
“People important to me? You mean Ryan?”
John pulled up to the plane, where two guys he presumed were the pilots stood nearby. “Ryan, and William...” He let the last name draw out, and then wished he had been able to keep it to himself.
She twisted in the seat to face him. “Ryan shouldn’t have told you about William.”
“No, you should have.”
“He’s an acquaintance, John. That’s all.”
“An acquaintance who you have a date with next week, according to your brother.” John had never been jealous, not one day in his entire life. Until now. And he didn’t make an effort to hide the green emotion from Dana. He’d been honest with her about all his other pitfalls, might as well throw this emotion out there, too.
“It isn’t a date,” she said. “He’s escorting me to an event.”
“Down here in the country we call that a date,” he said, as one of the pilot guys opened the passenger door.
“Hello, Ms. Brooks. Are you ready to start back home?” His smile slipped a little when he saw Dana’s tears.
“Yes, Ned, I am.”
“I’ll get your things moved over to the plane.” He nodded toward John and then moved to the back of the truck and began removing her luggage.
“I’ll go help him with your luggage.” John started to open the door, but stopped when she reached for his arm.
“John.”
He took a deep breath, exhaled and turned to face her. “Yeah?”
“William doesn’t mean anything to me.”
He closed his eyes, said a quick prayer for strength.
“I want to make sure you believe that,” she added.
“The thing is, I do believe it, Dana. I believe that he doesn’t mean anything to you
, or you would have told me about him. I’ve come to know you well enough to realize that. But the thing is, even if he doesn’t mean anything to you, he—and every guy like him—means a lot to me. Because he shows me everything that you deserve, and everything that I can’t provide.”
Chapter Thirteen
John climbed out of the truck and slammed the door hard enough for the entire vehicle to rattle. Then he turned, leaned his head against the side and closed his eyes.
Lord, I need Your help here. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make this work, make the ranch work, so that I can feel like I have something to offer Dana. I want her here, Lord, but I need to be able to provide for her if she’s willing to move here for me. Show me, God. Help me know what to do.
“You realize that ol’ truck is gonna give up the ghost just to spite you if you keep treating it that way.”
John opened his eyes to see Landon slapping his work gloves together and sending bits of dirt sifting through the sunshine in the process. He’d obviously already unloaded all the feed and hay from the feed store. With Dana’s sudden departure, John had forgotten to help him out. “This truck will hold its own, I reckon, like its owner.” He tilted his head toward the barn. “I forgot about the feed run.”
“Not a problem. Figured you had other things on your mind.” Landon wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “You want to talk about it, or not?”
“Not.”
His brother nodded as though he expected that answer. “What about a ride? Red looks ready, and Sam’s feeling good as new again. Want to take them across the ridge?”
“Now you’re talking.”
They didn’t say a word as they saddled the horses and rode across the fields and toward the mountains. Sam and Red seemed to sense the brothers’ need for a stress-reliever, because, though they both were well past their prime, they galloped the familiar route as though they were yearlings again. Free and without a care in the world, ready to run—and run fast.
Heart of a Rancher Page 15
