Welcome to Paradise by Carol Grace Read Free Book Online

to think about staples like rice and flour and powdered milk.
    “You got enough stuff,” he said once they were back in the truck.
    “I realize I came woefully unprepared.”
    “For what?”
    “To do what I want to do.”
    “You haven't told me what that is.”
    “You're sure you won't laugh? Scout's honor?” she asked.
    He held up two fingers.
    She took a deep breath. “I want to make the resort into a health spa.”
    “Paradise Springs a fat farm?” He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “A fat farm, that's good. You're not serious?”
    Chloe took a deep breath. She clenched her hands into fists, and turned to glare at him. “You promised,” she said. “How could you? You're no Boy Scout, are you?”
    “I'm sorry,” he said, trying to stifle a grin. “I couldn't help it. I thought those quote, spas, unquote, were luxurious resorts where women went to get pampered and maybe lose a few pounds.”
    “They are. And there's no reason why Paradise Hot Springs can't be one of those.”
    “There isn't? What about the long hike in, the lack of kitchen facilities, bathrooms or bedrooms?”
    “Those are problems,” she admitted, “but they are solvable.”
    “With a whole lot of money. Do you have a whole lot of money?”
    “That's none of your business.”
    He shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful.”
    “I don't think you are. I think you're trying to discourage me so I'll sell you the property.”
    “I'm trying to get you to be realistic.” He turned onto the dirt road past the hand-carved Bar Z Ranch sign.
    “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “But I've been realistic all my life. I chose nursing because it was a safe profession. Nurses can always get jobs. I married a doctor thinking I'd have a secure future. And now because of great-grandpa, I have a chance to do something new and different and exciting, and nobody's going to stop me from fulfilling my dream. Not you, not anybody.” She bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears.
    Zeb froze. She was married. To a doctor. Doctors made a lot of money. More than ranchers, anyway. So that's what she meant when she'd said “I'm not independently wealthy, although...”
    He felt like a fool for kissing her, for fantasizing about making love to her. Why hadn't she told him, why wasn't she wearing a ring, and why did she kiss him back? Because she was a thrill-seeker, looking for something new and different and exciting.
    He maneuvered the truck around potholes, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white as the truth finally hit home. She was going to turn Paradise Hot Springs into a damned spa for fat women. She was not going to sell him the property. She had deep pockets. And she was married, for God's sake.
    “Here we are,” he said, slamming on the brakes at the fork in the road.
    She hesitated for just a moment and shot him a brief, puzzled glance before letting herself out.
    “I'll unload my stuff here and then carry it down to my place,” she decided.
    “You do that,” he said, killing the motor and staying in his seat behind the wheel. Why should he help her unload her things? Where was her husband? In the operating room? So she had a dream. Well, he had a dream, too. To buy Paradise Springs for a reasonable figure. To resell it for a profit and buy a bull who would put him back in business. A dream of holding on to his ranch. A dream that was fading into nothingness.
    He watched her in the rearview mirror as she struggled with the boxes and bags until he couldn't stand it any more. Then he got out of the truck, slammed his door shut and, in tension-filled silence, grabbed box after box out of the rear and dropped them unceremoniously onto the ground next to the trail that led to Paradise Springs. When he finished, there was a pile of stuff so high it would take her about three months to haul to her property.
    “Thank you,” she said, wiping the perspiration off her forehead. She looked tired, but undaunted.