The Rancher's Marriage Pact by Kristi Gold Read Free Book Online Page B

wouldn’t mind some orange juice, without the champagne or vodka.”
    Jenny retrieved a pitcher of juice from the refrigerator, poured Paris a glass and handed it to her. “You’re not from the South, are you, sugar?”
    â€œNo. Why?”
    â€œBecause good Southern girls like their toddies now and again.”
    Now and again could possibly be an understatement when it came to Jenny. “I’m not really from anywhere. My family traveled all over the country during my youth.”
    That earned Paris a sympathetic look. “Everyone should have a place to call home, honey. Mine was the New Orleans area, until I moved here.”
    Paris had fond memories of New Orleans, the place where she’d headed her first hotel design project. Little had she known that a few years later, she would suffer a major fall from grace. “Do you miss Louisiana?”
    Jenny shrugged. “At times, but I can always go back whenever I choose.”
    She gestured toward a small bistro table set near a bank of windows at the end of the expansive kitchen. “Have a seat, sugar. How many slices of bacon with your pancakes?”
    Apparently Jenny had forgotten the meal she’d prepared the night before. “None, please. And only one pancake.”
    The woman looked as if Paris had uttered the ultimate blasphemy. “Oh, that’s right. You’re a vegetarian.”
    After setting her glass on the round table, Paris pulled back a cute red chair and sat. The color definitely indicated a woman’s touch, and most likely an unwelcome concession on Dallas’s part. “I do eat eggs and some seafood. I just avoid pork, poultry and beef.”
    Jenny slid a plate piled high with the cakes onto the table in front of Paris. “You’d have a hard time living here, honey. Beef is a mainstay with almost every meal.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like a cholesterol catastrophe to me.”
    After claiming the chair across from her, Jenny smiled. “You’d be surprised how good old hard work keeps that in check. I tell you, Dallas is in prime shape and in perfect health.”
    From what she’d seen, Paris wouldn’t debate the prime shape part. She grabbed the pitcher of warm syrup and poured only a small amount, ignoring the pats of butter to her right. “Is Dallas not joining us for breakfast?”
    Jenny laid a hand on her throat. “Oh, sugar, he gets up with the chickens. He ate at five a.m.”
    Paris couldn’t imagine dragging out of bed at that hour, much less eating a full breakfast. “What exactly does he do at that time of the morning?”
    â€œHe tends to the ranch,” came from behind Paris. “He’s a rancher and that’s what they do.”
    She didn’t have to turn around to recognize the voice, but she did glance over her shoulder to see Maria Calloway pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter. “I guess that makes sense,” Paris said. “I’m surprised it requires working sunup to sundown.”
    Maria took the chair next to Jenny and leveled her stare on Paris. “Have you ever lived on a large parcel of land?”
    Paris swallowed the bite she’d just taken and rested her fork on the plate. “No, I’ve never lived on a farm or a ranch.”
    â€œShe’s never really had a home, Maria,” Jenny said sympathetically. “Isn’t that just so sad?”
    Maria appeared unaffected by the revelation. “Then you’re not accustomed to working with your hands?”
    She didn’t understand the reasons behind the obvious interrogation. After all, she’d be leaving in hopefully less than an hour. Then again, Dallas had mentioned a business talk, so she could be coming back to the ranch, if luck prevailed. “Any work I do with my hands involves sketching designs and using a computer keyboard.”
    Maria took a long drink of coffee before speaking