Right Here Waiting

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my fiancé
for always encouraging me to follow my dreams and never holding me back.  I
love you, David – Always and forever.

CHAPTER ONE

S
he stood looking out the same parlor
window she spent many of her childhood days peering out.  She daydreamed about
how her life would be once she was able to escape this town, this ranch she
once called home. She vowed she would never return, but here she was back where
she started. The news of the death of her parents left her no choice but to
return, no matter how badly she wished she could turn and run in the opposite
direction.

A voice from the open doorway startled her out of her
thoughts. “Megan Marie Nelson, is that really you? I can’t believe my eyes!”

She turned from the window to see the housekeeper,
Martha, an indispensable member of the staff who had been with the family since
she was small.  Martha was always the first one awake in the morning and the
last one asleep at night.  If she were tired, it never showed in the perfect
way she managed to keep the large ranch house in spotless condition or the way
she always kept the family and the ranch hands fed with her amazing cooking. 
Of all the memories Megan had of this place, Martha was the best.  She knew she
should try to be happy, even though Martha was sure to understand if she was
anything less.

“In the flesh,” she said, trying to manage a smile.

“Well welcome home girl.  Now come over here and let me
get a good look at you.  Oh my, you have grown since the last time I saw you.”

She walked over to Martha and embraced her.  “It sure is
nice to see you again, Martha.  I just wish it could have been under better
circumstances than these.”

Martha held her back at arm’s length, her brown eyes wide
with delight. “You sure have blossomed into a beautiful young lady. Your mother
and father would have been proud of you, I’m sure.”

“I just wish I could have seen them again before they
died. Why did I have to just up and leave the way I did?”

“Come child, don’t fret. I just finished baking up a batch
of peanut butter cookies. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and get you some
with a tall glass of milk? I remember how much you loved them as a child.”

She was trying to go low carb for the millionth time, but
how could she say no to Martha’s homemade cookies?  In addition, she couldn’t
think of a better way to gain a couple of pounds.

Other children had their grandmothers to spoil them
growing up. She had Martha and she couldn’t have asked for better.

“You know I can’t resist an offer like that,” she said as
she followed the older woman into the kitchen.

As she entered, she noticed Martha’s hair, which only had
a few touches of gray when she left five years ago, was completely gray, though
it was still pulled up tightly in a bun on her head. The only other changes she
could see was Martha put on a few extra pounds and she acquired more wrinkles. Other
than those minor alterations to her appearance, Martha was still the dear sweet
woman she remembered from her childhood.

The
smell of the fresh baked cookies overpowered her senses as they entered the
kitchen.  Memories came flooding back to her of when a boy first asked her out
on a date. She had been so overcome with fear and excitement, all rolled into a
jumble of emotions, and she’d felt a sting of disappointment when she
remembered how her mother was out of town at the time, nursing an ailing aunt. The
only other person she trusted enough with her deepest emotions was Martha.

On that day long ago, she and Martha sat at this very
kitchen table with a plate of freshly baked peanut butter cookies between them
and tall glasses of milk.  By the time she finished telling Martha about the
boy, the date, and all the emotions she was feeling, she felt much better. Martha’s
kind and very wise advice settled her nerves and put her at ease with the
situation.  In some ways, telling Martha was the best decision she could have
made.

“Did you have a nice trip here?” Martha asked, startling
her out of her thoughts and back to the present.

“It wasn’t too bad,” she said as she sank down onto a
chair at the kitchen table. “There were a couple of times on the way here my
car started giving me fits and I wasn’t too sure I was going to make it.”

“I’ll have one of the guys take a look at your car.  If
they can’t fix it, I’m sure one of them can take it into Boise to be fixed by a
mechanic.” Martha set a plate of cookies in front of her, followed by a large
glass of milk.

But she didn’t hear Martha, nor did she notice the spread
before her. Peanut butter cookies or not, her full attention was fixed on the
man who suddenly filled the doorway to the kitchen, cowboy hat in hand.  The
man responsible for her hasty exit from Hidden Oaks, Idaho, all those years
ago.

Blade Thorne was the first man she ever had a crush on. He
was also the first man to break her heart. As she reached those teenage years,
she followed Blade around the ranch, pretending to be interested in learning
everything she could about ranching, just to spend as much time with him as
possible.

Her daydreams were filled with Blade. He would fall in
love with her. In those endless daydreams, she thought about the day when she
would become Mrs. Blade Thorne. She would often wonder how it would feel to
have him sweep her up in his arms and hold her in a passion filled embrace
while his lips sought and claimed her own in a hungry, needy kiss.

That was until the day when she was seventeen and Blade’s
harsh, cold words put an end to all those foolish, adolescent fantasies. She
had been in the barn that morning watching him milk their cow, Millicent,
before breakfast. He turned to her, anger flashing in his steel gray eyes. “Why
do you follow me around all the time?  I have a job to do and the last thing I need
is to be babysitting you. You’re nothing more than a child, so scram!” His
words echoed in her mind as loud as they did back then.

Without a word, she fled the barn in tears. She vowed to
leave and get away from Idaho as soon as she possibly could. Three months later
on her eighteenth birthday, she packed her bags and moved to New York City,
eager to put those childish daydreams of Blade, and the words that broke her
heart, behind her. Her family tried to talk her out of it, but there was
nothing they could have said or done to stop her. Her mind was made up.

Now five years later as she watched him standing in the
doorway, the words he shouted long ago rang in her ears. Tears began to form in
her eyes, but she fought them off. The last thing she wanted to do was let
Blade know how much his words hurt her. She was stronger now, a grown woman. He
wasn’t going to affect her anymore.

“Mmmm, cookies,” Blade said as he sauntered over to the
table and reached out a hand to take one.

“Where are your manners?” Martha admonished as she
slapped his hand away from the plate. “You haven’t even said hello to Megan
before you tried to steal one of her cookies.”

Blade looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

“Well I’ll be – “ He looked her up and down
appreciatively, those steel gray eyes giving her a scrutiny designed to melt
any woman into a puddle at his feet. “You sure have grown into quite a woman.”

She turned her head, looking away before he saw the blush
on her cheeks. She tried to gain her composure. There was a time when Blade’s
words would have made her swoon, but not now. His words came too little, too
late.

“Have you gotten shy with age, Megan? The young girl I
remember was outgoing and so full of energy.”

Something that felt like a mixture of anger and annoyance
crept over her. She turned to look at him, anger encompassing her to the point
she couldn’t hold back any longer. “And as you recall, the Megan you knew was
just a little child, someone you couldn’t be bothered with.”

Blade gave a loud whoop. “Now there’s the girl I
remember.  Can I have a cookie?”

It was nice to see some things stayed as they were. He
was still the same arrogant man she knew when she left home. He hadn’t aged
much, either. He still possessed the muscular build she remembered. At the age
of forty one, there was a little gray on the sides, but the rest of his hair
was still a shade of dark brown, almost black. She could see why she developed
such an attraction to him in her teenage years. He should have been balding and
overweight by now. Maybe she wouldn’t be feeling a hint of attraction to him
now. Feelings like those were precisely why she needed to get done what she
came here to do and then get back to New York City.

She would contact a realtor in Boise first thing in the
morning. The sooner the place was on the market, the sooner she would go back
home, get on with her life, and go back to forgetting Blade ever existed.

She looked at him and was treated to a smug expression. Oh,
how she’d love to wipe it off his face.

“How much longer do you plan to keep living here?”  By
the way his expression changed so quickly, she knew she’d caught him off guard.
Score one for her.

“W – what?” he stammered.  “I have no plans of ever
leaving this ranch.”

She eyed him coldly. “We’ll see when this place is sold. The
new owners may not want you around.”

“You can’t really mean it,” Martha said coming up behind
her, placing one hand on her shoulder. “This is your home. Why would you want
to sell it?”

“Don’t worry,” Blade said, reaching for a file folder on
the counter and waving it in her direction. “I picked this up from the lawyer’s
office earlier this afternoon. She can’t sell the ranch, at least not for
another year.”

Now it was her turn to be caught off guard. Now the score
was tied. “What do you mean I can’t sell it?  I’m an only child. Now that my
parents have passed away, it’s rightfully mine to do what I want. I want to
sell it.”

“You’re right, the ranch is yours, but you can’t sell
it.”

“Why not?”

He pulled several sheets of paper out of the folder.
“Because I have here, in my hands, your parents’ will. There’s a clause in it. 
That’s why you can’t sell it.”

“What sort of clause?”

“You and I have to run this ranch together for at least a
year before you can decide to sell it or do anything else with it.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice raising an
octave. Her parents wouldn’t be this cruel to her, would they? She hoped this
was some sort of joke.  It had to be.

“Read it for yourself,” he said, handing the papers to
her. “It’s the section highlighted in yellow.”

Her heart sank as she read the words for herself. It was
all true. How was she going to explain this to her boss? Would he even allow
her to take a year off from her work at the ad agency to fulfill her parents’
will? Her boss could be understanding at times, but she didn’t think he would
be
that
understanding.