“Oh.” That seemed to interest Evan more. “Is he gonna stay until he gets all better?”
“For a little while,” his mother said. “Stop asking so many questions and go change.”
“’Kay.” Evan shot off, his footsteps sounding as he scurried down the hall and up the stairs.
“Sorry, my son is very inquisitive.”
“He’s not a bother,” Jared assured her. Which was true. “Besides, I’m the one who’s intruding on you.”
“And I’m the one who ran you off the road.”
He shrugged. “No one was hurt.”
“Your truck didn’t fare too well. And I’m not convinced you’re completely all right. Your face is all red.”
“It does itch. It’s the air bag.” He tried to make light of the situation. “I should have ducked to get out of the way.”
She went to a drawer and took out a kitchen towel, wet it, then brought it to him. “Sit down.”
When he did, she pressed the cooling cloth to his face. He was taken aback by her casual manner. But it wasn’t so casual for him. Her gentle touch definitely was causing a reaction.
“You could have been seriously hurt,” she said.
“But I wasn’t. So no need to worry.” He took the cloth from her, but she didn’t pull away. She was close. So close he breathed in her scent, a freshness he couldn’t describe, but knew he could quickly become addicted to it. He raised his gaze to hers. Her eyes were a liquid green with tiny golden flecks in the center. His body began to heat up and he’d be lying if he told himself it had anything to do with the Texas weather. Finally he diverted his gaze.
She also pulled back. “I—I called Doc Turner anyway. He’s going to stop by just to check you out.”
Before Jared could argue that a doctor’s visit wasn’t necessary, he heard the door open and an older man walked into the kitchen. “Hey, you’re back from the bank already? They give you the loan?” Just then the man noticed they weren’t alone and his face reddened. “Sorry, Dana, I didn’t know you had company.”
“Bert, this is Jared Trager. Jared Trager, Bert Marley. We nearly collided on old Parker Road. I managed to get out of the way, but Jared’s truck hit a tree.”
Bert winced. “Well, jumpin’ jackrabbits. Ain’t that all we need. How bad?”
“His truck isn’t drivable,” Dana said. “But I’m more worried about Mr. Trager. The air bag went off.”
Bert limped over and examined Jared through his wire-rimmed glasses. “Looks like you got a nasty rash.”
“I heard that’s one of the drawbacks,” Jared said. “I was hoping I’d never find out, but I’ll survive.”
“Doc Turner’s coming out,” Dana said.
“What were you doin’ out on our road?” Bert scrutinized him. “Take a wrong turn?”
Jared didn’t miss the hostility in the man’s eyes. This was the opening he needed. But how do you just blurt out that you’re the brother of the man who left you pregnant? “No. I was headed this way.”
“Why?”
Jared felt the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I wanted to talk with Ms. Shayne.”
A grin spread across the old man’s weathered face. “So you come about the job.”
Jared was caught off guard by the question. He meant to say no, and tell the truth, but his answer didn’t come out that way. “I guess I could use the work.”
Later after supper, Dana went to her father’s office. What a day it had been. She hadn’t gotten to the bank to talk to Mr. Wilson about the mortgage. Instead, she ended up causing bodily injury to a stranger.
She was so grateful when Doc examined Jared and declared the man fit, then gave him cream for the rash. And by mealtime his headache was gone, too. All she had to do was send the drifter on his way. But something stopped her. Being a woman alone, she didn’t like hiring somebody she didn’t know. But thanks to her, the man was stranded. His truck would take nearly two weeks to repair so Trager couldn’t leave for the time being. She knew that he might get work somewhere else, but she owed him.
It felt like she owed everyone, including the bank. Dana shook the worrisome thought from her head. Not tonight. Nighttime was for Evan. She walked into the living room and found Jared sitting in her father’s chair with her son next to him as he read a story.
Dana’s chest tightened. The picture of the two seemed so perfect. Father and son. But in an imperfect world, Dana knew she couldn’t give Evan what he wanted the most. A father.
Jared raised his head and smiled at her.
Her son looked happy, too. “Jared was reading me a story, Mom. He’s good, and he don’t even have kids.”
Jared shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.
“I guess it’s just a talent,” Dana said. The man probably had many other talents. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Evan.”
Evan started to argue but looked at Jared, who nodded. To her surprise her son said, “’Kay, Mom.” Then he climbed out of the big chair and came to her, giving her a hug and kiss.
Dana called to her son as he climbed the stairs. “I’ll be up in a few minutes to say good-night.” She then turned her attention back to Jared.
“I appreciate you spending time with Evan. He really misses his grandfather and…his father isn’t in the picture.” Why did she tell him all that? “About the job, if you’re serious about working for me, you need to know I can’t afford to pay you much.” She quoted him the wages. “But I’ll cook all your meals and you can stay in the bunkhouse.”
“Are you saying you want to hire me? I’m not an experienced ranch hand. I’m a carpenter by trade, but I can ride pretty well and I’ve spent time on a ranch.”
Dana hesitated, not needing any complications in her life…or her heart. But she had no choice. She did need a man. “That’s what I’m saying.”
He stood. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. Around here our day starts at five-thirty. Breakfast is at six-thirty and you’ll be in the saddle by seven. And the day doesn’t end until everything gets done. Think you can handle that, Mr. Trager?”
He reached out his hand and took hers. “The name is Jared. And yes, I can handle it.”
Dana placed her hand into his callused one. Immediately she felt heat shoot up her arm, warming her entire body. Maybe he could handle the work but suddenly she had doubts about her ability to handle Jared Trager.
Chapter Two
He had to be crazy.
Jared tossed his duffel bag on the first bed in the bunkhouse. He’d had the perfect opening to tell her who he was, and he blew it. He puffed out a tired breath. Now what? He’d hang around a few days, help her out a little, make a few repairs. Maybe spend some time with the boy, then hand over the trust fund information and leave for Las Vegas.
“Damn.” Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in Stan Burke’s number. With the time difference, it was still early enough to catch him at the office.
The familiar voice came over the line. “Burke Construction.”
“Stan, it’s Jared.”
“Hey, Jared. Where the hell are you?”
“I’m