Read Online A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) by Heather Hildenbrand - Free Book Online
Authors: Heather Hildenbrand
Ads: Link
inside, I’d always made a mental note about how she left out the part that her life didn’t really start until she’d moved to the city. Opportunities, growth, a happy family—all of that had come after leaving a town like this one behind.
I didn’t intend to get caught up here, no matter how much I felt drawn to Casey Luck.
Following Summer’s emailed directions, I pulled into the grass and parked the truck next to the powder-blue pickup I recognized as Ford’s. The cab was empty so I grabbed my sketchbook and portfolio and headed down the worn path I recognized from the pictures Summer had sent. It led through a small outcropping of pine and oak. The leaves were bright green and small, still new-looking from a late spring, although the morning air already had a thick, summery layer of humidity to it. Without some rain soon, those leaves didn’t stand a chance. Then again, rain wouldn’t be great for business.
I made it through the trees and, when I emerged on the other side, I stopped short and stared. The email had said the path led to a grassy knoll that extended a couple hundred feet before dropping into a gentle cliffside on one end. That part was right. The camper, like Casey had mentioned, was tucked near the trees, an eyesore compared to the purity of nature.
Still, it didn’t detract from the breathtaking view below and around it. I’d seen pictures of the space via email a few weeks back but the images hadn’t revealed the stunning view that surrounded the build site.
To the right were mountains, gentle and rolling from one tree-covered hillside to another. I scanned left and watched as the trees gave way to reveal grass and then farmland. Empty fields, either currently unused or too early to be planted in. Rich dirt that left the scent of earth in the air even way up here where the wind caught and carried everything to you in a single smell.
As soon as I’d soaked up the scenery, I turned back to the site. My mind raced ahead to images of structure, foundations, positioning—which way was sunrise?—columns and antebellum accents and—
“Oh, good, you made it,” a friendly female voice interrupted my daydreaming and mental planning. I blinked and found Summer headed my way across the grassy yard from the camper. Shorts and boots and honey-brown hair flying free in the wind, Summer Stafford looked completely … belonging. It was a comfortable thought. A pleasant image. And for the first time, a small-towner didn’t put my back up.
“Miss Stafford.” I stuck my hand out, switching to professional mode automatically.
Summer scrunched her nose. “I’m not that much older than you. Just Summer or it’s weird.”
I laughed. “Got it. Then it’s just Jordan for me.”
Summer smiled and we shook.
“Is Ford here?” I asked, nodding at the camper behind me.
“He’ll be here later. Dad called him down to the house for some new seed-strain idea. They’ll be wrapped up in the greenhouse for hours,” she said with a good-natured eye-roll. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you make it up here okay?”
“Casey let me borrow his truck. And I found it just fine with your directions.”
Summer nodded, an apologetic smile already forming on her lips. “So you decided to take the room then? I wondered if I’d hear from you last night.”
“I…” I hesitated for a second, unsure how much to admit. Summer was close to Casey and I didn’t want to overstep. But she’d clearly been in on Frank’s little trick and knew I’d been pushed blindly into the whole thing.
I settled for vague but honest. My specialty. “I‘m taking it one day at a time. But for now, I’m taking the room.”
“Always a good strategy where Casey’s concerned,” she agreed. “I know Casey can be … a bit much sometimes. Glad to see you can handle him.”
“I don’t plan on handling him at all,” I said, snapping the words out before I knew it. I realized belatedly, I’d taken it way further than
I didn’t intend to get caught up here, no matter how much I felt drawn to Casey Luck.
Following Summer’s emailed directions, I pulled into the grass and parked the truck next to the powder-blue pickup I recognized as Ford’s. The cab was empty so I grabbed my sketchbook and portfolio and headed down the worn path I recognized from the pictures Summer had sent. It led through a small outcropping of pine and oak. The leaves were bright green and small, still new-looking from a late spring, although the morning air already had a thick, summery layer of humidity to it. Without some rain soon, those leaves didn’t stand a chance. Then again, rain wouldn’t be great for business.
I made it through the trees and, when I emerged on the other side, I stopped short and stared. The email had said the path led to a grassy knoll that extended a couple hundred feet before dropping into a gentle cliffside on one end. That part was right. The camper, like Casey had mentioned, was tucked near the trees, an eyesore compared to the purity of nature.
Still, it didn’t detract from the breathtaking view below and around it. I’d seen pictures of the space via email a few weeks back but the images hadn’t revealed the stunning view that surrounded the build site.
To the right were mountains, gentle and rolling from one tree-covered hillside to another. I scanned left and watched as the trees gave way to reveal grass and then farmland. Empty fields, either currently unused or too early to be planted in. Rich dirt that left the scent of earth in the air even way up here where the wind caught and carried everything to you in a single smell.
As soon as I’d soaked up the scenery, I turned back to the site. My mind raced ahead to images of structure, foundations, positioning—which way was sunrise?—columns and antebellum accents and—
“Oh, good, you made it,” a friendly female voice interrupted my daydreaming and mental planning. I blinked and found Summer headed my way across the grassy yard from the camper. Shorts and boots and honey-brown hair flying free in the wind, Summer Stafford looked completely … belonging. It was a comfortable thought. A pleasant image. And for the first time, a small-towner didn’t put my back up.
“Miss Stafford.” I stuck my hand out, switching to professional mode automatically.
Summer scrunched her nose. “I’m not that much older than you. Just Summer or it’s weird.”
I laughed. “Got it. Then it’s just Jordan for me.”
Summer smiled and we shook.
“Is Ford here?” I asked, nodding at the camper behind me.
“He’ll be here later. Dad called him down to the house for some new seed-strain idea. They’ll be wrapped up in the greenhouse for hours,” she said with a good-natured eye-roll. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you make it up here okay?”
“Casey let me borrow his truck. And I found it just fine with your directions.”
Summer nodded, an apologetic smile already forming on her lips. “So you decided to take the room then? I wondered if I’d hear from you last night.”
“I…” I hesitated for a second, unsure how much to admit. Summer was close to Casey and I didn’t want to overstep. But she’d clearly been in on Frank’s little trick and knew I’d been pushed blindly into the whole thing.
I settled for vague but honest. My specialty. “I‘m taking it one day at a time. But for now, I’m taking the room.”
“Always a good strategy where Casey’s concerned,” she agreed. “I know Casey can be … a bit much sometimes. Glad to see you can handle him.”
“I don’t plan on handling him at all,” I said, snapping the words out before I knew it. I realized belatedly, I’d taken it way further than
Similar Books
