Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch Read Online Free PDF

his right. Easing off the gas and unclenching his jaw, he slowed
down for a good look at Willa’s home.
    He’d gleaned a
little of the ranch history from the attorney and the Internet, enough to know
that Rafael Mercado from Mexico had taken possession of the land in the 1840s,
back when Indian attacks were an ever-present threat. The tall, defensive wall
Rafael had first built around the house had been lowered in the twentieth
century to reveal the courtyard, filled with mature live oak trees, which
surrounded the villa inside. A series of white-columned arches created a wide
veranda along the two-story front wing of the house. Two side wings stretched
back at right angles to form a U-shape with another courtyard in the center. Green
shutters framed the windows, a sharp contrast to the creamy white stucco walls.
    Daniel squeezed
a whistle through his teeth. Willa had a right to be protective—this was quite
a showplace. He could imagine how much maintenance work would be involved in
caring for such a property. Around the house stretched ten thousand acres of
the Wild Horse Desert, where she bred and raised longhorn cattle. No doubt
about it, the woman carried a heavy burden. And since her husband had died,
she’d carried it alone.
    At the sound of
her truck rumbling up behind him, he squeezed the accelerator and pulled away
fast enough to spray gravel as he fishtailed on his way. The last thing he
needed was another “get lost” lecture. She’d made her point and it was a sharp
one, especially after last night’s pleasure.
    Following the
winding, hilly road farther into the Blue Moon, he saw the barns, corrals and
utility buildings that formed the heart of the ranching operation. Miles of
wire fencing defined the pastures, which alternated between cultivated range
land and the scrubby shrubs and natural grasses native to south Texas. The wild
landscape held a beauty all its own, however, especially on the morning after
rainstorms had cleared the dust from the air. Daniel appreciated the wide blue
Texas sky, the varied shapes of the trees and cacti and bushes, the freshness of
the wind.
    There was no
sign to tell him when he crossed onto his own property, just a line on the map
the attorney had provided. The terrain didn’t change. There were fences, and
cattle…although he was sure Willa would have those rounded up and removed soon
enough. She wouldn’t want to leave any of her property under his control.
    As he came over
the top of yet another hill, he realized he’d reached his destination—the
foreman’s cottage he’d be living in. Sited on a bare stretch of ground with
only a few prickly shrubs to soften the sandy dirt, the house lacked any
evidence of architectural imagination. An uncovered stoop anchored the
cement-block structure, its plain front door painted a dull gray like the rest
of the building. Daniel pulled into the shade of the carport attached to the
side of the house and sighed as he switched off the engine. For the first time
since beginning this crazy venture, he felt a little daunted.
    Inside, the
rooms were clean, bare and equally uninspiring. Willa hadn’t gone to any
lengths to make him feel welcome.
    Outside once
again, he drove toward the barn associated with his property, visible about a
quarter of a mile away from the house. The weathered, metal-sided building,
surrounded by dry, dusty corrals, did little to bolster his confidence that he
could develop a functional ranching business in this place. He was stuck out
here in the desert with scant practical knowledge, few ranching skills and no
support.
    Maybe Willa
would win, after all.
    Within the barn,
years—decades, maybe—of discarded equipment loomed in the corners and cluttered
the aisle between stalls, which appeared to have not been cleaned for about the
same amount of time. What would he do with all this space once he got it
cleared out? His first task, he guessed, would be to hire a foreman. Somebody
with in-depth