Page 38 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“I’ve been meaning to oil that,” Brooke said.

“It’s probably a good security system,” I said.

Brooke walked to her four-wheeler and got on. “No one is dumb enough to try to break into a ranch house. There are guns everywhere.”

I’d have to remember that.

There was no way to avoid noticing how good Brooke looked astride the ARV. Pleasant and blush-inducing thoughts of riding with her behind me came out of nowhere, and I had to shove them aside as I got onto my vehicle. Something creaked, and a clunk sounded.

“Don’t worry about that,” Brooke said.

“If you say so.” I was worried.

“I do.” She gave me a wide smile, then started her engine.

I did the same, checking that I understood the controls before I shoved the helmet on—impressing myself by not making a face at the smell coming from the padding—and gave Brooke a nod.

“Follow me,” she shouted as she took off.

She was already on the road and turning toward the broken fence before I’d exited the garage. Not only was she beautiful, good with animals, and full of sass, but she didn’t waste time.

I blinked and shook my head. I couldn’t think of Brooke like that. She ran this place. I was here to learn from her. I needed to keep her firmly in the business category.

Being trained was nothing new for me. Whenever I ventured into a branch of the business that I didn’t know as much about as I would like to, I hired someone to teach me about it.

Many people could use videos and books, but I learned better by seeing and doing at the same time. Shadowing someone to learn their job was standard procedure for me.

Only I’d never been so attracted to a trainer. I’d tried to keep Brooke from my mind but had failed.

My only consolation was that she wouldn’t be interested in me. Brooke was like a beautiful but wild animal, free to do what she wanted and unimpressed with frivolities. I could probably take her halfway around the world on the plane, and she’d just shrug and ask, “How much weight can it carry in the hold?”

So this was going to remain a working relationship. I was here to learn from her and that was it.

It only took me a few dozen yards to get a feel for the controls. Once I was comfortable, I sped up and gained some ground on Brooke.

We flew by a couple of guys who were standing in a field. Brooke waved and they waved back. When I’d asked Robert how many people he employed for the ranch, he’d said two, plus one of his kids. I’d wrongly assumed that the child he referred to was a male.

These men, plus Brooke, kept this place going.

I’d need to pick their brains while I was here.

It didn’t take us long to reach the broken fence. Brooke slowed and turned off near the strands of barbed wire that lay coiled instead of stretched out. She killed her engine and climbed off.

I mirrored her and removed my helmet. I couldn’t imagine her donning one of these each time she rode around, so I asked, “Do you usually wear the helmet?”

Brooke nodded. “Not everyone does, but I had a scare as a kid. Ended up with a cracked skull and a concussion, so I’m a safety-first girl on these things.” She patted the seat. Then she opened the toolbox and drew out what sort of looked like a saw with handles at both ends. Brooke held it out.

I quickly walked to her and offered to take it.

“Gloves,” Brooke said.

It took me a moment to get them apart, but once I’d pulled them on, Brooke dropped the contraption into my open hands. The thing weighed a ton and rust had overrun the faded yellow paint. On further inspection, I found it wasn’t a saw. It had clamps on both ends. Sort of.

“Put these in a pocket.” She offered a tool that was a combination of a hammer and pliers.

I held out my palm, and even through the gloves, when her fingers brushed my skin, I had to keep myself from shivering.

She’s training me, not flirting with me.