Page 18 of Riding Into Love
“Good to see you, John.” I shake his hand and tip my hat.
John and his family are the only other ranching operation for miles. They own a little over two-thousand acres of prime Montana real estate, and a couple of rodeo stock contracts. They’re a good family, and their ranch has been thriving just as long as my family’s has, if not longer.
“How’s the herd?”
“Good,” I respond. “We’ve got some new bulls coming in the next few weeks. Looking forward to the calving season.”
“I’ll bet. How’s that stallion of yours?”
“Linux? He’s coming along. River’s got a good hand with him.”
“River? Is that the redhead?”
I nod.
“She’s a beauty. Where’d you find her?”
“That’s Thurston’s daughter.”
“No shit.” His brows lift, and he lets out a low whistle. “I haven’t seen her in years. Last I remember, she was still in pigtails and playing with her dolls. She’s grown into a fine young woman.”
“Yep. That she has. Care to come inside for a cup of coffee?”
“That sounds like just the thing,” John replies, and we start walking toward the house.
River glances over at us, and the second she sees John, her eyes go wide. “Mr. Miller!”
“Well, well. If it isn’t the Thurston girl,” he chuckles. “It’s good to see you. Been too long.”
River smiles at him and steps up to the fence, resting her elbows on the top rung. “How are you, sir?”
“Oh, just fine, honey. Just fine. What are you doing way out here?”
“I’m Mr. Burke’s new ranch hand.”
“Are you now?” He turns to me and arches an eyebrow.
I give a subtle nod.
“Well, good for you, kid.” He pats her on the arm. “You let me know if this old coot doesn’t treat you right.”
She flashes a grin, and the sight makes my chest feel like it’s caving in. Goddamn, she’s gorgeous.
“He’s treating me just fine, sir. You don’t have to worry.”
“Well, good.” John claps his hands together. “Now, Colby and I have some ranch talk to do, so I’ll leave you to your work.”
“All right. It was good to see you, Mr. Miller.”
“You, too, honey.”
River tips her hat and turns her attention back to Linux. The stallion is standing quietly, watching her as she circles him.
John and I head inside the house and take our usual spots at the table. I pour him a cup of coffee and pass him a slice of bread and a jar of preserves, because I know the man is always hungry.
“So,” he says, spooning some jelly onto his bread. “How long has River been working for you?”
“About a month now.”
