Rocky Mountain Cowboy. Tina Radcliffe. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Tina Radcliffe
Издательство: HarperCollins
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      “This is strictly a business agreement. I need to complete certification, and having you close by will ensure that will happen as quickly as you’ve promised. Especially since you have to babysit greenhorns, who seem to have a knack for stepping in cow patties everywhere they go.”

      She paused, considering his words. “What about Casey?”

      “Who’s Casey?”

      “My daughter.”

      Joe’s jaw sagged. “You have a daughter?”

      “I do. She’s six.”

      “Yeah. Of course your daughter is welcome.”

      Becca stared at him for moments, confusion on her face. Then her eyes widened. “Is this about the rental deal falling through?” She released a small gasp. “You overheard the entire conversation, didn’t you?”

      “I heard enough. Doesn’t change the facts.”

      She turned away. “Of course it does.”

      “Why? I told you, this is business.”

      When she didn’t say anything, he muttered a short expression under his breath. Stubborn. He’d forgotten how stubborn the woman could be when her back was against the wall.

      “Becca, don’t let your pride stand in the way.”

      “It’s not my pride. I’m used to that being shredded.” She met his gaze for a moment, then shifted her attention out the window. “I...don’t think you understand what’s going on here, Joe.”

      “Going on? What do you mean?”

      “Letting me stay on your ranch may put you right in the center of the bull’s-eye.” She gestured with her hands.

      “You aren’t making any sense.”

      “Why do you think I didn’t get that rental house?” Rebecca asked.

      “I have a few ideas.”

      “So do I. Nick’s grandfather. I’m sure of it. Judge Nicholas Brown used his considerable influence to sway the courts to bring what was simply a horrible car accident to a jury trial.”

      Joe opened his mouth and closed it again, his lips forming a thin line.

      “My bail was set so high that my mother was left scrambling to raise the money. I sat in jail for two weeks. Two weeks. Do you know what it’s like to be in jail, Joe?” She swallowed. “Do you have any idea?”

      Hands tightening on the steering wheel, Joe’s head jerked back as though he’d been hit.

      She took a steadying breath. “When Hollis Elliott heard about it, he put up the bond money.”

      “I don’t get it. You were found innocent.”

      “Judge Brown continues to punish me for Nick’s death.”

      “Why, if it was an accident?”

      “Not in his mind.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I think he’s aiming for custody of my daughter.”

      “He has no grounds for that.”

      “Rich people live in a different world than you and me. He’s a prominent citizen in the valley. He owns a lot of property in Four Forks. He’ll claim he can better provide for Casey.” She released a breath. “The truth is that he can.”

      “You’re her mother. You’re employed, and now you have a place to call home.”

      Rebecca shook her head as she gazed with longing at the little house. “You don’t know the judge,” she murmured. Her hands trembled as she met his gaze yet again. “If I stay here, he might very well retaliate against you. Against Gallagher Ranch, as well. You need to know that up front.”

      “I’m not concerned about Judge Brown.”

      “You also need to know that I’m not looking for someone to rescue me. The Lord and I have been working together for some time now.”

      He shook his head. “Not applying for the job. This offer is all about me. I’ve given a crew of city slickers carte blanche to roam my ranch. All I’m trying to do is protect my interests. I can’t do that without your help. Living closer makes sense.”

      “Just so we know where we stand.”

      He held out the keys to the little cottage with his left hand. “I know where I stand. Do you?”

      She nodded, then slowly, ever so slowly, reached up and took the keys, her fingers brushing his.

      Joe let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

       Chapter Four

      Rebecca turned when she heard the front door of Joe’s two-story log-cabin house open behind her.

      It was the man himself. Joe placed his black Stetson on his head and slid his arms into the sleeves of a fleece-lined denim jacket as he stepped outside.

      The dark angles of his face were illuminated by the porch light, creating a fierce image of the indomitable rancher. He yawned and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face before raising his head. Joe’s eyes rounded when he saw her. “What are you doing out here?”

      She ignored the harsh note of surprise in his voice. “I’m here to do a job.”

      “Why didn’t you knock on the door? How long have you been waiting?”

      Rebecca shrugged. “There was no need to bother you. I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

      “When are you moving into the cottage?”

      “Friday. After Casey’s school lets out for the summer break.”

      “What will your daughter do while you’re working?” Joe asked.

      “My mother will keep her during the week and I will have Casey here on the weekends. That will be less disruptive while the crew is filming or photographing you.”

      “You’re sure that’s going to work?”

      “Yes. This is far better than when I lived in Denver and she lived here with my mother all of the time.”

      He shook his head and frowned as though he waged a mental battle.

      “Everything okay?” she asked.

      “Yeah. Perfect.” He strode to the end of the cobblestone walk and paused to take a deep breath. “Smell that?” he asked.

      “What?”

      “That heavy, dank odor in the air. The smell of cow manure and pond water are magnified when a low pressure system moves in.” He took another deep breath. “Oh, yeah, that’s some strong manure on the wind. It won’t be just dry lightning like last night, either. No, we have a real storm front on its way.”

      “I guess I’ve been gone too long. Nothing smells different to me.”

      “Give it a few more weeks. We’ll have your smeller sensitized in no time.”

      “Sensitize my smeller?” Rebecca smiled at the terminology.

      She pulled a pair of worn, soft leather gloves from her back pocket. When she looked up, he was watching her.

      “Those look like expensive gloves. Do you want a pair of old ranch gloves?”

      “I’m good.”

      “And you’re going to be warm enough in that vest?”

      Rebecca assessed her black, down-filled vest. “You bet. I’ve got several layers on beneath this.”

      “Hat?”

      “I’ve