Home on the Ranch--Montana Holiday Promises by Patricia Johns

Author:Patricia Johns
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-08-21T18:37:53+00:00

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Used to waking up early, Gina opened her eyes after a sound sleep. At first she had no idea where she was. It was still dark outside, but she could make out the faded curtains and old blinds pulled over the window and feel the lumpy mattress. She was in the small, plain guestroom she thought of as hers at Uncle Lucky’s ranch.

But Uncle Lucky was gone.

Bleary-eyed but feeling oddly rested, she stumbled out of bed. The chattering of the guests downstairs had lulled her to sleep, and she had actually slept though the night. No tossing and turning, no waking up and worrying. Which was surprising, but Gina wasn’t going to question her good luck.

She peered through the blinds. Sometime during the night, a few inches of snow had fallen. It wasn’t enough to cause problems, but it blanketed the rolling fields in white.

Uncle Lucky’s house was old and outdated, but thanks to storm windows and a working furnace, it was reasonably warm. So different from Gina’s childhood home, where winters meant shivering from the second she crawled out of bed until she climbed back in under the covers at night.

It wasn’t exactly the Ritz here, but at least everything was in working order. Uncle Redd could move in without doing any repairs or updates, which would suit him fine. None of the Arnetts enjoyed spending money without a good reason. Gina had a very good reason for spending hers—to be successful, she had to look the part.

Still in a sleep fog, she padded to the bathroom. A shower helped shake out the cobwebs, and once she fixed her hair and applied makeup, she felt much better. Knowing she would be meeting with the attorney that afternoon and not wanting to have to change clothes later, she dressed in a cream cashmere sweater set and gray slacks, a stunning outfit purchased on credit at Neiman Marcus. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she headed downstairs.

Now that the visitors had all left, the little house was eerily silent. Much too quiet, but at the moment, Gina’s main concern was coffee.

As a child, she’d spent every summer here, and she knew her way around her uncle’s cluttered kitchen. Now cakes, pies and breads filled every spare bit of counter space, but some kind soul had cleaned up last night and run Uncle Lucky’s portable dishwasher. Gina unhooked it from the faucet and wheeled it to its place against the wall, bypassing a stack of old newspapers that probably went back five years. Those had to go, but not just now. Coffee. She needed coffee.

Uncle Lucky had always preferred the no-frills stuff, and his coffeemaker was the kind that percolated on the stove and took its sweet time. Compared to the state-of-the-art coffee and espresso maker at Gina’s condo, it seemed primitive.

Not that she made her own coffee often. In Chicago, she could run down the street and pick up an espresso at any number of places. But Saddlers Prairie didn’t have many options.

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