hot look and sh e’ d be a goner.
Bright, cheerful sunshine poured through the windows of the huge house as if it were the happiest day ever. It was not. That was the funny thing about days that changed your life forever. The rest of the world just kept moving while you stand there trying to find your footing.
Kesslyn stretched out on the huge oval braided rug before the fireplace. She almost wished there was a blaze going, but it was far too hot for that this time of year. She had a little picnic set out of a bottle of wine sh e’ d found in a cupboard, an apple she'd sliced up, and some peanut butter on crackers sh e’ d found in the pantry. The only thing in the fridge was a jar of pickled okra. No way was she even trying that. In the morning sh e’ d have to get groceries after her meeting with Mr. Baird.
Staring at the wood plank ceiling, Kesslyn replayed the night before with Beau in her mind and felt herself getting warm. She wondered if sh e’ d see Beau when she went to town. What would she do if she did? Oh, she knew what sh e’ d do. It was disgraceful. It would be an effort not to throw herself at the man. It was more likely sh e’ d never see him again. And that was too depressing to ponder.
Purposefully changing her mind to other topics, she tried to imagine her father growing up in this big old house. It was a beautiful home. She wondered if her dad had enjoyed the life of a farm boy. She tried to mentally take him out of the three piece suit of a lawyer and put him into the denim and western shirt of a cowboy. It was a nearly impossible task, but she thought her father, who had always been a very handsome man, had looked good on a horse.
Kesslyn dragged herself off the floor and picked up her plate and cup. She washed her dishes in the deep, white ceramic sink in the beautiful, modern country French kitchen. It was a gourmet kitchen. Her grandmother must have loved to cook. The kitchen was huge with a long, solid wood table with padded benches on either side. Kesslyn wondered if the cowboys used to eat there. There were so many things she just did n’ t know.
In the morning, she would be visiting Mr. Baird in town. She hoped he would be able to clear up a few things. She wanted business on the ranch to go on as usual. Or as close to it as possible. Sh e’ d never be able to make a decision about the future of the ranch if she did n’ t learn firsthand what life here was really like.
Kesslyn climbed the stairs to her temporary room. She would move into the master bedroom tomorrow. For the night, sh e’ d settled into the room with the picture of her dad in a Walker Creek High football uniform. Lord, h e’ d been a handsome young man. It was no wonder her mother had fallen head over heels.
There were also awards for everything from pee-wee all-around cowboy when he was a little kid to roping and rodeo into his college years. Kesslyn was saddened by it. Sh e’ d had no idea her father was a cowboy. A real life horse racing, herd riding, rodeo winning cowboy. She could only imagine him in suits and polo shirts and khakis. H e’ d dressed down when they went horseback riding, but other than that, her father had been a very clean-cut businessman. This young man in chaps and a huge hat was a stranger.
“ Oh, Daddy, what happened here that made you leave and stay gone? Why did n’ t you ever talk to me about this part of your life ? ”
For that matter, why had n’ t she asked any questions? She knew her daddy was born a Texan. She knew tha t’ s where h e’ d gotten his smooth, slow accent and manner of being. This was the place that had made him the man sh e’ d loved and admired so very much.
Kesslyn crawled into her fathe r’ s bed and tried to get some sleep. She tried, but her mind played images of a big cowboy with blond hair and warm brown eyes the color of copper pennies over and over. It was going to be a long night.
THREE
Kesslyn sat at the end of