He blinked. “I never gave it two seconds of thought. I was too busy calculating square footage, the cost of a new countertop, all the electrical upgrades I need to make, and how much the bottom line might be. I’ve been contemplating where to start. Asbestos testing? Mold testing? Inspecting it for habitability? What if it’s better to raze the buildings? What if the rodent and insect infestations are so bad that it can’t be cleaned to a healthy level?”
“Okay, you’re thinking practically about the most cost-effective way to approach it. But you need my way of thinking to create the dream and give you a reason for being practical. You must have an ideal picture in your mind, Asher, or you wouldn’t be standing in this decrepit, old kitchen.”
“I do. I guess. But it’s usually followed by, how? How will I do that?”
“I should probably attach that word to all of my thoughts. I get lost sometimes in thinking about what it might or could be. I have a hard time choosing when there are so many possibilities. Picking one precludes the next and what if I pick the wrong one? We’re expected to make lifechanging decisions just because we turn a specific age. Eighteen. Twenty-one. Whatever. And you better be able to master life at twenty. I don’t want to squander my possibilities but neither do I want life to simply happen to me, much less, pass me by.”
“I highly doubt that.”
She leaned against the countertop. “Why do you say that? How can we know?”
He stared right into her eyes. “Because you live in New York and attend college there. You’re smack dab in the epicenter of the world. You have every chance to do and be anything. You’re not wrong about that. You won’t end up on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, living in a house older than your grandmother.”
She swallowed and stared at him, her face dropping the soft smile she had when they talked. Her mouth frowned. “That was rather pointed.”
“Yes. It was. That dreaminess, as you call it, the potential you see everywhere you look is not feasible, and understand one thing, this is not it. What you see is exactly what it is. An old house miles and miles from anything and anyone. Even the next house is remote. It isn’t a joke. I’m not a tourist planning a vacation to get away from my normal life. It isn’t a game. This will be a struggle from start to finish if I can get it back up to a working and profitable ranch again. I plan to raise and train horses primarily but I’d like to have some cattle as well. None of this will be easy. It will be incredibly time consuming. Cities and urban areas are replacing all the family farms and ranches. We now live in a place where most of them are all but gone. Even your family expanded theirs. Turning it into a vacation resort. A dude ranch. A golf course. Horseback riding lessons and the like. But that isn’t what I intend to do here.”
“A working ranch. Reed Ranch? And you’re going to raise cattle.”
“Yes. Reed Ranch. Just understand this won’t look or feel or become anything like the Rydell River Ranch. Even my dad did a lot of things for the resort that he preferred not to do. I won’t be like him. There will be no tourist attractions on my ranch. No resort. No people coming to gawk and ogle. Just me. Maybe someday I can hire someone to help me. Literally a ranch hand or two.”
“This is really what you want?” Her head swiveled around.
“Yes. And it’s not because of a romance for the past. I like leading a quiet, isolated, tough way of life. It’s the only thing I want and the only place I belong. I don’t want to live anywhere else. I want this. All mine. Starting out with nothing but a wreck and some drought-stricken land. This house in particular calls out to me. I know it should be mine. I don’t want to level it or claim it’s too expensive to fix. I am willing to take however many years I need to accomplish that. I want to restore it. Fully. Room by room. Make it a labor of love. We probably shouldn’t venture upstairs yet; I fear we could fall through one of them. If my offer is accepted, I’ll tow an old trailer up here to live in and tuck it into that barn out there in winter. Still plan to live in it. I know it will be hard, lonely, and overbearing. Not a place for you. I’m sure you see that.”
There! He threw the gauntlet down. Reality roared at her. Points were made and finally received. Now they could both forget the strange, little detour of Daisy’s crush on him. He didn’t know how he was coerced into making one date with her, let alone, two. A family member too. A cousin. A woman who lived in New York City.
And here he was. Twelve miles down a dirt road in the backcountry of the local mountain range. The gorgeous backdrop for hundreds of miles in the area that appeared pristine and mostly unpopulated. A place with a one-lane dirt road that zigzagged up the hills and mountains to the next valley, and up again. Some plots of land were arable, most were not. Definitely off the beaten track and the very definition of it.
Finally, it would end with Daisy. All this weirdness could pass, and they could return to… normal. Which was what? Friends? Kind of. No. What was this? Asher didn’t feel this way, whatever this was, around Violet who meant the same thing to him as Daisy.
Another cousin.
Not someone to date.
But why, oh, why were they staring at each other like that? Like nothing else existed and it would be so easy for them to jump on each other?
Chapter 7
STARTLED AT THE TONE of his last few sentences, Daisy blinked at Asher several times. What the hell? No place for her. What did he mean by that? Wow. Talk about skipping a few steps, and several years. She licked her lips. “You’re assuming a lot here.”
“I’m not playing along with your fantasy. You said you had a crush on me so what do you foresee of that?”
“I—”
Her mouth dropped open, then shut, then opened and shut at least three more times. She was at a complete loss. Wincing at the aggressive tone in his voice, she had no defenses to offer. What did she do that needed defending? She merely followed him to the place he brought her and asked harmless questions about its history. Inventing scenarios of what-might-have-been. Not what could or might be. What was he doing? Why elaborate on such a pointed discussion of a future that most likely could never come to pass, especially on a harmless date? Lord, they were having a picnic. That was it. Yet he was all but saying she couldn’t hack a future lifestyle with him?
“I don’t even know what to say other than, get a grip. I liked you. Yes. But this? No. I wasn’t intending to move in with you. Or declare my undying feelings that would sustain us through every obstacle in our path.” She shook her head. “Let’s just go with this scenario you’re so disturbed about. I could remind you that your dad and mom made it work. She came from Seattle and my family’s ranch must have been like what this place looks to me.”
“Right. But she was thirty-five years old. She owned a business and earned her own money, autonomy and independence. As she told me, she fulfilled her dreams and lived as she wanted before she met AJ and the changes he offered her. You’re not any of those things. And neither am I.”
“I think you’re taking this casual picnic way too far with all the what-ifs. No one thinks of planning a future or even has thoughts about it after one freaking dinner together.”