Montana Wrangler. Charlotte Carter

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Montana Wrangler - Charlotte Carter


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in his face. In this case, that would be a bad thing. He might just kiss her, and wouldn’t that fry her beans?

      “I know there will be adjustments we’ll both have to make, but that’s what Krissy wanted.”

      “And precisely what adjustments are you going make? Take weekends off so you can be home with Bryan?” He was guessing. He didn’t know what her schedule was but he figured working at a hotel she had to work some crazy shifts.

      Hooking her hand around the back of her neck, she hesitated. “I can’t do that. I’m the conference manager for the hotel. Most of the conferences are scheduled for—”

      “Fine. Then Bryan’ll stay home alone. He’s old enough. Of course, he won’t know anyone except you. Hope you’ve got a lot of video games for him to play.”

      She folded her arms across her chest. “All right, I haven’t worked out all the details yet. I just found out today—”

      His jaw muscle twitched. “How big is your condo, Miss Barclay?”

      “Will you stop calling me Miss Barclay?” she snapped. “My name is Paige, and I’m dealing with this guardian business the best I can.”

      “Okay, Paige.” He shouldn’t be pressing her, but the thought of her dragging Bryan off to Seattle really stuck in his craw. “You didn’t answer my question about your condo.”

      “It’s small, all right?”

      “How small?” he demanded.

      “One bedroom plus a home office,” she admitted grudgingly. “It will do until I can sell and buy a bigger one.”

      “That ought to be cozy.” He snatched off his old work hat and speared his fingers through his hair. She seemed to honestly believe she could take on the responsibility for a twelve-year-old, move him hundreds of miles away from the only home he’d known and everything would work itself out. Not likely!

      “It’s getting late.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the house. “I think I’ll go back inside. Good night.”

      “Wait!” He didn’t want to stop sparring with her. Challenging her to think things through. He hadn’t yet convinced her taking on parental responsibilities for Bryan wasn’t such an easy thing to do. “When are you planning to leave?”

      “Early Monday morning. I have to be at work Tuesday.” She took a few steps toward the porch.

      “You’re taking Bryan with you?”

      “I, um, I suppose so. I might not be able to get time off to come back.”

      That was crazy. Jay had to stop her. “No, you can’t do that. You’re not officially his guardian until a court says so.”

      She cocked her head. “I have Krissy’s letter. That gives me the authority—”

      “He only has two more weeks of school before summer vacation. You can’t pull him out now. That would break his heart.”

      “I can’t stay here for two more weeks. My boss would have a fit.” Her voice tightened. “We’ve got a big medical conference scheduled for next weekend.”

      “If your boss is the right kind of guy, he’ll understand. Besides, two weeks will give Bryan time to get to know you and you to get to know him.” The lowered slope of her shoulders suggested he was finally getting through to her.

      Hat in hand, he approached her slowly. “I understand you cared about your sister. And you care about Bryan, too. Give the boy a chance to know you, and yourself time to work out whatever steps you have to take to be his official legal guardian.”

      She held his gaze in the starlight for a long moment as though she wanted to say something important. Instead, her jaw tightened. “I’ll think about it.” Whirling, she hurried up the steps and into the house.

      Jay jammed his hat on his head. He wasn’t anything to Bryan except his friend. Grandpa Henry should be fighting on the boy’s side. Not going along with Krissy’s cockamamy idea of letting Paige raise her son.

      So why was the idea of the boy moving away bugging him so much?

      He thought of the son he’d lost, the tiny baby who had never drawn his first breath. The boy he’d dreamed of having. He’d planned to teach him how to ride. How to raise the best-bred quarter horses in the West. To live and work on the ranch he’d sold after Annie and the baby had died.

      He’d wanted to teach his son to track animals through the woods. To hunt and fish.

      But he’d never had the chance.

      He scrubbed his face with his hand, remembering all of his dreams that had never come to pass. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of remaining on the ranch after he’d lost Annie. Not with all the memories that haunted him.

      Bryan wasn’t his own flesh and blood. But there were times, he admitted, when the kid looked at him with such—was it hero worship? Or could it be love? Despite himself, Jay had relished those moments.

      However well-meaning Paige might be, he didn’t want her to take Bryan away.

      And he had no idea how to stop her.

      Chapter Three

      Jay had given Paige plenty to think about, which resulted in a restless night. Her head was still spinning with all that she had to do when she woke the next morning.

      She dressed in a black wool skirt and fitted yellow sweater with three-quarter-length sleeves, and headed for the kitchen. She planned to attend church this morning. To thank the pastor again for presiding over Krissy’s funeral.

      Plus, she hoped with some concentrated prayer, the Lord would provide the guidance she needed.

      The smell of rich coffee and the sound of male voices drew her. She stopped at the kitchen doorway and gawked. Bryan and Grandpa were sitting at the table. Jay, wearing a frilly pink apron that had to have been Grandma Lisbeth’s, was cooking pancakes on the griddle. He flipped one in the air. It landed smack in the middle of the plate he was holding in his hand.

      “Very impressive.” She had no recollection of Jay preparing meals during any of her prior visits. Yesterday he’d already left to see to the horses when she’d come in for coffee. “You have an unexpected talent.”

      He shot her a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes and sped gooseflesh down her skin. A man had to be seriously macho to carry off a pink apron with such aplomb.

      “When I lead a trail ride into the wilderness, the clients expect good eats and plenty of it.” He flipped a second pancake onto the plate and handed it to Bryan.

      The boy grabbed the butter, slathered the pancakes, then reached for the syrup.

      “Sit yourself down,” Jay said. “I’ll cook up a couple for you.”

      “No, that’s not necessary. I only have coffee for breakfast.”

      “You’re too skinny, girl.” Grandpa forked a bite of pancake into his mouth. “Jay’s pancakes will put some meat on your bones.”

      She put an affectionate hand on her grandfather’s shoulder. “A woman my age has to be careful not to put too much meat on her bones.”

      He harrumphed and ate another bite of his breakfast.

      “You look like you’re dressed to go somewhere fancy,” Jay said, pouring two more circles of batter on the griddle.

      She got a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. “I thought I’d go to church this morning. Anyone like to come with me?” When no one responded, she turned to Bryan. “How about you? We could hang out.”

      He looked up at her with hooded eyes and shook his head.

      The prick of rejection hurt. She shrugged it off.


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