Just What The Cowboy Needed. Teresa Southwick

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Just What The Cowboy Needed - Teresa  Southwick


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Buckskin Pass.”

      “I’ve been there. Pretty town.”

      “I like it.”

      “Please, come in.”

      “Thanks.” She was clutching the handle of her wheeled suitcase and started to roll it inside.

      “Let me get that for you.”

      His fingers touched hers and she felt like a cartoon character whose heart beat so hard and fast you could see the outline of it jumping out of her chest. “Thank you.”

      “Do you have more in the car?”

      “Of course. Packing a lot of stuff is what we do. Women, I mean. I’m a woman.”

      “Yeah. I noticed.” When his gaze met hers, his polite cowboy manner slipped a little. It was the way a man looks at a woman when he likes what he sees, giving her a glimpse of something earthy and primal. And exciting.

      That moment of chemistry touched a core of femininity and expectation simmering inside her. Wow. From September to June she was a kindergarten teacher at Buckskin Pass Elementary School. Without a doubt she could say she had never exchanged a hot look like that with her boss, the principal. But her boss for the summer was a different story.

      Grace needed to say something to... What? Break the ice? She was so hot right now, there was no way anything in her immediate perimeter could freeze.

      “I’m looking forward to seeing Cassie again. Where is your adorable daughter?”

      “She’s with her mom doing wedding errands. Tracy will drop her off when they’re finished.”

      “Okay.”

      Grace had met his ex and liked her a lot. Tracy mentioned that she and Logan had never married, but shared custody of their daughter, although he had her only on weekends. But she was tying the knot and taking an extended honeymoon, so he was keeping their little girl here at the ranch. Since he had to work and needed child care, Grace had been hired to look after her. It would be interesting to know why Logan and Tracy had never married. Why the two of them, who had created a child together and seemed to get along perfectly, hadn’t worked out romantically.

      “Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll be bunking.”

      The statement was so macho cowboy, she could practically hear the creak of saddle leather and the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. Or was that just her heart again?

      This was the first time she’d seen his house. They’d met in downtown Blackwater Lake at the Grizzly Bear Diner for the interview. So far she liked what she saw. They were standing in the small entryway just inside the front door. There was a living room to the right, dining on the left. Wood furniture looked like well-loved antiques, while the sofa, love seat, chair and ottoman were contemporary, compatible and homey. Somehow it all worked but wasn’t what she’d expected from the handsome rancher.

      Grace followed him up the stairs. “So, Logan, I checked you out—”

      “Oh?” He glanced over his shoulder, but his face gave nothing away.

      She couldn’t tell whether or not that bothered him. “It’s the smart thing to do. I’ll be living in your house for eight weeks.”

      “And looking after my daughter,” he reminded her.

      “The thing is that you had me checked out, right? I’d expect nothing less from her father.”

      “Of course I did.”

      “So it works both ways.” Grace was watching for signs that his inner jerk was scratching to be let out. “Can you blame me?”

      “Nope.” He reached the top of the stairs, then turned right.

      “Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

      He glanced over his shoulder again and appeared amused about something. “As it happens, I know all about me.”

      Cute, she thought. Actually, he was very cute when he let down his guard a little. She would really like to see what he looked like when he laughed.

      “That was more of a conversation starter. Because I found out that this land has been in your family for four generations.”

      That boggled her mind. He could easily trace his ancestry back to his great-great-grandparents. She, on the other hand, didn’t even know who her parents were. That’s what happened when shortly after birth you were wrapped in a towel and left at a fire station. Logan had an impressive family tree; she had nothing but question marks.

      “I’m aware of that,” he finally said.

      She was staring at his broad back and wide shoulders and swore it wasn’t her imagination that he tensed up. “Happily, nothing bad popped up in the background check I did.”

      “Good to know.”

      “And Cassie’s mother vouched for you when I interviewed with her.”

      “What if Tracy was lying?”

      “She wasn’t.”

      He stopped in front of a bedroom. “How do you know?”

      “I just do.”

      “You’re a good judge of people?”

      “Yes.” Mostly. Her biggest lapse in judgment was with Lance the Loser.

      Everyone was entitled to one monster of a mistake, right? She’d been a kid in the foster care system and had to move from place to place. Growing up, she’d dreamed of having a house of her very own. She’d worked really hard and saved to do that, then lost it on Lance. That’s what happened when a girl took a man at his word but got nothing in writing to protect herself.

      There’d been no choice but to start all over again saving for a house, and after this summer job, she would have enough for the down payment. Again.

      “So, you’re a good judge of people and still took this job?” Logan said.

      “Is there something you want to tell me?” She was pretty sure he was joking and that was supposed to be a sassy comeback, but Grace couldn’t tell if she’d pulled it off.

      “You did the research.” Logan shrugged and one corner of his mouth quirked up before he carried her suitcase into the spacious room, then set it on a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

      There was a queen-size bed with brass head- and footboards. An old-fashioned wedding-ring-patterned spread and throw pillows in dusty rose and green covered the mattress. On the wall over the swivel rocker hung a flowered hatbox and vintage prints in oval frames. One was a needlepoint that said, “A Family Stitched Together with Love Seldom Unravels.” The mirrored dresser and matching armoire looked old but well cared for.

      “This is a girl’s room,” Grace observed.

      “It was my sister’s.” He pointed. “The bathroom is through there.”

      “Lucky girl had it all to herself.”

      “Not luck so much as practical. Mom and Granddad figured the line would move faster in the morning if Jamie didn’t hog the facilities. There’s another one down the hall. My two brothers and I used that one. Cassie’s room is next to it.”

      “Wow, four kids.” And no mention of his father. “Must have been fun growing up.”

      “Not really.”

      It would have been so easy for him to say his childhood was idyllic and carefree. How would she know? Well, except for the glaring omission of any reference to his father. But, really, he could have taken the easy way out and glossed over it, but he didn’t. She liked that about him. And yet it made her considerably more curious to know details.

      “I’ll show you the rest of the place,” Logan said, before she could ask anything.


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