The Long, Hot Texas Summer. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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Justin had figured the teen would show up with an attitude, but he wasn’t going to let him dictate how things were done. “Not an option.”
Lamar slouched in his chair, a scowl on his young face. “How come?”
“Because Amanda’s not in charge of you,” he reminded the boy mildly. “I am.”
The teen returned his glance to the window. “That wood she’s carrying looks heavy.”
Heavy enough to require the sleek muscles of her gorgeous shoulders and upper arms, Justin noticed appreciatively. What it did for her legs wasn’t bad, either.
Justin dragged his glance away from the statuesque beauty in the sleeveless red T-shirt, denim coverall shorts and sturdy work boots. “If Amanda needed our help, she would’ve asked for it.”
“Sure about that? I mean, isn’t this place supposed to be about turning kids into well-mannered guys? What kind of Texas gentleman lets a lady hoist all that stuff by herself—even if she is a carpenter by trade?”
Good question. And one meant to make Justin bend to Lamar’s strategy. “Nice try.”
The kid held his palms aloft. “Hey! I’m just saying...”
Justin eyed the paperwork still needing attention. “Did you get how to use the scanner? Or do I need to explain it again?”
Lamar turned back to the desk with a huff. “I’m not good at this computer stuff.”
Which was an understatement and a half, Justin soon found out. In the next thirty minutes, Lamar managed to accidentally shut down the operating system, re-enter a single document three times and delete two files Justin had initially scanned as examples. The only thing worse than his own mounting frustration was the fact that his young charge seemed equally annoyed at his own ineptitude.
“So maybe office work isn’t your thing,” Justin said finally, ready to admit that all this assignment had done so far was cost both of them precious time and patience.
Lamar looked wistfully out the window at the vast blue horizon and dazzling sunshine. “Sure you don’t want me to go out and at least offer to give Miss Amanda a hand? She still has quite a bit to unload.”
The goal was to get Lamar doing something constructive on his very first day, so Mitzy could report back to her superiors that things were going well.
Figuring it would be okay if they both assisted Amanda, Justin stood. “All right. Let’s go ask.”
Justin and Lamar walked out of the lodge. By the time they reached the pickup truck that Amanda had parked just in front of the door, she had re-emerged from the bunkhouse. She looked from one to the other. Sweat beaded her face, neck and chest. “What’s up?” she asked, blotting the moisture on her forehead with one gloved hand.
Justin turned his attention away from the pretty color in her cheeks and the radiant depths of her eyes. “We thought we’d give you a hand with the unloading,” he explained.
Amanda stiffened. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
Lamar gave the pretty carpenter a pleading look. “If you don’t let me help, he’s going to make me go back to the computer—and I’ve already messed things up in there pretty bad.”
Amanda had no problem turning Justin down.
Lamar, it seemed, was another matter entirely.
She sized up the teenager. “The bunkhouse air-conditioning isn’t installed yet. My guess is, even with all the doors and windows open for maximum airflow, it’s about a hundred degrees inside. Add physical exertion to that, and it’s going to be a workout and a half,” she warned.
The tall, lanky teen was evidently unconcerned with the hard physical labor ahead of him, so long as he got out of any more office work. “Okay with me,” Lamar said cheerfully.
Justin smiled and offered, “I can help, too.”
Amanda frowned. “That’s okay...you don’t have to. Lamar and I can handle it.”
Justin didn’t like feeling expendable.
But if this was what it took to get Lamar to realize he could actually enjoy being out here on the ranch, Justin figured he could spare him for one day. “Let me know when Lamar’s work for you is finished,” he told Amanda briskly. “I’ll take it from there.”
* * *
AMANDA KNEW SHE had hurt Justin’s feelings. There was no helping it. She could not have him underfoot. He was too handsome, too distracting, and she couldn’t afford to lose her focus for even a moment.
“You know, if you don’t want me around, either, I could go off somewhere and just get lost for a while,” Lamar suggested casually as soon as Justin had gone back into the lodge.
Chuckling, Amanda clapped a gloved hand on his shoulder. “Nice try, kid. But you told Justin you’d help carry all this wood into the bunkhouse, so that is exactly what you’re going to do.” She rummaged around in her truck and returned with a pair of leather work gloves for him.
Awkwardly, Lamar inched them on. “You don’t mind taking orders from him?”
Did she? Normally, Amanda liked to maintain her independence and set her own work agenda. That was what made these rural gigs so appealing. The clients were so busy with their own work, they were less inclined to micromanage her. Best of all, at the end of the day, she could really get away from it all in her home-away-from-home travel trailer.
“Justin McCabe runs this ranch. It’s my job to make sure he is happy with the work I do. Yours, too, for that matter, since he’s overseeing your community service.”
Silence fell.
Lamar stacked more trim wood in the corner, next to a pile of interior doors that needed to be installed. “Don’t you want to know what I did to get sent out here?”
Amanda brought in a stack of doorknobs and latch kits. “Truancy, right?”
Lamar scowled. “Justin told you.”
They walked back outside for another load. “Yep.”
Lamar peered at her from beneath his blond bangs. “Aren’t you going to use this opportunity to lecture me on how I’m ruining my life and all that?”
Amanda took in the front of his Pirates of the Caribbean T-shirt. It depicted a rollicking fight scene. “Would you listen?”
“No.”
She handed him a bundle of trim wood. “That’s what I figured.”
Lamar cradled it against his chest. “Which is why you’re not lecturing me.”
Amanda grabbed a bundle for herself and walked with him toward the door. “I figure there has to be a reason you keep cutting class.”
Lamar put down his bundle of wood with more than necessary force. “I hate it. It’s boring.”
Regular school had been a pain for Amanda, too. Figuring they could both use a rest, she went to the cooler in the corner and brought out two icy grape-flavored electrolyte drinks. She tossed one to him. “What does interest you?” she asked.
Lamar wiped the moisture away with the hem of his shirt. “I like watching TV. Listening to music.”
Amanda took a long drink. There had to be something that would help him connect with others. “Do you play any sports?” Even if Lamar didn’t qualify for school teams, there were always private athletic leagues to provide a little fun and make him feel involved.
“Nah.” Lamar finished half his bottle in a single gulp. “I’m no good at sports, either.”
So Lamar had suffered multiple failures, socially and otherwise. Catching sight of his dejected expression, Amanda’s heart went