Texas Dad. Roz Fox Denny

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Texas Dad - Roz Fox Denny


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wants this job, but she can’t get here till after next week. She’s in Galveston taking care of her grandchildren while her oldest daughter and husband are on vacation. They left yesterday on one of those eight-day cruises to Mexico.”

      “Well that’s a problem.” Continuing to frown, Mack reached back to open the screen door.

      Erma glanced over her shoulder at Mack. “Why’s that? Seems to me we’ve got a solution. If Jill is taking pictures at the ranch, it makes sense for her to stay here instead of driving back and forth to town. I need a woman to assist me with private matters, like helping me in and out of the shower. I’m not a stork, you know. Can’t stand on my one good leg.”

      “I’m pretty sure nursemaid isn’t on Jill’s professional résumé,” Mack said. “Benny, I wish you’d phoned me about your cousin while I was still in town. I need to sign a contract with Leitha Davidson to find us someone even short-term.” Mack’s frustration couldn’t be more obvious.

      “Leitha won’t go to all the work of hiring until Benny’s cousin arrives,” Erma stated firmly. “Jill’s here. She said she’s willing to help. Besides, I’m dying to hear all about Paris and where all else her work’s taken her since she left Texas.”

      Zoey burst out, “J.J., you’ve been to Paris? That’s so cool! Wait till I tell Brandy. Where else have you been?”

      Mack bristled and interrupted before Jill could answer.

      “Zoey, the eggs! You don’t have time to hear how Jill gallivanted off to Paris and London and Rio and Tokyo...” He broke off, seeing Jill’s eyes glitter, clearly curious about how he knew where she’d traveled. “I get the college alumni newsletter,” he said. “They’ve mentioned you.”

      Jill nodded, but Erma didn’t let up. “This house has four empty bedrooms, Mackenzie.”

      “Listen,” Jill jumped in, spreading her hands. “I’m fine staying in town. I don’t want to cause a family feud. If it’s okay with you, Mack, I’ll help Zoey gather the eggs, then settle Erma in. I’ll come back tomorrow to begin our interview and take more photos.”

      Erma said something to Mack that J.J. couldn’t hear. It served to make him duck his head and rub the lines creasing his forehead. A few seconds ticked by before he cleared his throat. “Erma’s got a valid point. It’s not like me to be inhospitable. I appreciate your willingness to help us out of a jam, Jill.” Raising his head, he gazed squarely into her startled eyes. “Truly,” he added. “My main concern should be doing what’s best for Erma.” He opened the door. “If you’re okay with it, let’s call a truce.”

      “Of c-course,” J.J. stammered. “I’ll just go put my camera bag away.” She pointed to her SUV.

      “Bring it in,” Erma said. “Mackenzie means you should pick a bedroom and stay as long as you want. You and Zoey go collect the eggs while I take my pills. After you get me settled for a nap, you can check out of your motel. I wouldn’t mind your help fixing meals for a few days.”

      Although she felt trapped, J.J. nodded. She wanted to bolt then and there—Mack couldn’t have made clearer that he’d rather walk over spikes barefoot than have her stay at the ranch. Erma had to have twisted his arm, and who in their right mind would volunteer to be an unwanted houseguest?

      “Awesome!” Zoey shouted. She dashed over to throw her arms around J.J.

      From the porch, Mack watched Jill smile at Zoey and smooth her hands down the girl’s braids. The simple, caring gesture hit him hard, chipping away some of the ice he’d built around his heart against Jill Walker. Her ready smile used to be something he loved. He vividly recalled the sweet taste of her lips, and unexpected heat moved through his groin. “So now that that’s arranged,” he muttered, “let’s get this show on the road.”

      Benny said, “Don’t forget, boss—we’re planning to move the cattle to Monument Draw tomorrow. The summer range will make prettier pictures with the trees and all, but the herd’s bound to kick up a passel of dust on the drive up there.”

      “Damn.” With everything that had happened, Mack had forgotten. “Trailing the herd can mean a couple of days before any of us get back to the ranch.”

      “I have some extra days built in for this shoot,” J.J. said. After all, Donna had urged her to spend an extra week visiting her mother. “I’ll take a few pictures before you head out. Readers will like seeing you on a horse with a sea of steers as a backdrop.”

      “That would be a good plan except that we’ll be leaving before daylight. It’s a dry, hot drive between Turkey Creek and the next available water. The farther we get before sunrise, the better.”

      “Well, do whatever is necessary. I don’t want to interfere. I’ll keep Erma and Zoey company.”

      “I suppose we could delay the drive.” Mack wasn’t keen on the notion of leaving Zoey and an incapacitated Erma with Jill. The last time she was in his life, she hadn’t thought twice about abandoning him. She probably wouldn’t do that now, but she also didn’t have any reason to stay. “There’ll be time to figure this out at supper, which we won’t have if we keep talking all day.” He eased the wheels of Erma’s chair over the threshold and disappeared inside.

      J.J. worried her lower lip with her teeth as she followed Zoey to a row of chicken coops set away from the house in the shade of scrub oak. They were on a good-size plot, encompassed by a sturdy wire enclosure. “You have a lot of chickens,” she said, pausing to latch the gate behind her.

      “Erma uses a lot of eggs. Wait until you see how many Benny and Eldon eat at breakfast.” Zoey unhooked one of the coop doors and exposed two shelves of nests, empty of chickens.

      “So Erma cooks meals for the ranch hands as well as for your family?”

      “We all eat together.” Zoey reached into a nest and began placing eggs in one of her baskets. J.J. picked up a second basket and scooped the eggs out of the higher nests. They collected about twenty eggs, closed the coop and moved to the next. Hens were sitting on the nests in this one. One screeched and flew straight at J.J., pecking her arm.

      “Ow!” She jumped back and dabbed at a trail of blood, trying to keep from dropping her basket.

      Zoey unhooked a long-handled whisk broom off the inside wall of the coop and swatted the squawking hens. “Shoo.” She flapped her arms at birds dive-bombing their legs. “We need to hurry and grab the eggs. The hens get braver the longer we stay.”

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