Книга - Her Hill Country Cowboy

Her Hill Country Cowboy
Myra Johnson


Cowboy DadSingle father Seth Austin will do anything for his children. So when he discovers the new housekeeper his grandmother hired for their guest ranch is a former social worker, he plans to keep his family far away from Christina Hunter. Seth once almost lost custody of his beloved kids because of an overzealous social worker. Problem is his children adore Christina and her sweet service dog—and he’s starting to fall for her too. Recuperating from an accident, Christina is determined to slowly ease back into her old life. But the more time she spends with them, the more she realizes that her future might be with the cowboy and his family.







Cowboy Dad

Single father Seth Austin will do anything for his children. So when he discovers the new housekeeper his grandmother hired for their guest ranch is a former social worker, he plans to keep his family far away from Christina Hunter. Seth once almost lost custody of his beloved kids because of an overzealous social worker. Problem is his children adore Christina and her sweet service dog—and he’s starting to fall for her, too. Recuperating from an accident, Christina is determined to slowly ease back into her old life. But the more time she spends with them, the more she realizes that her future might be with the cowboy and his family.


“I—I’m sorry,” Christina gasped, her heart thudding.

All she wanted was to get down off this horse and bury her face in her dog’s neck.

“Hang on, it’s all right.” In one swift movement Seth swung himself to the ground and held up his hands to Christina. “Let’s take a break. I’ll help you down.”

Too relieved to think beyond the moment, she transferred her grip from the saddle horn to Seth’s broad shoulders. With his strong arms supporting her, she slid from the saddle and collapsed against him.

“Easy, easy.” Seth soothed her with gentle pats as if she were a jittery colt. “Man, you’re really shaking. Never meant to scare you like that.”

As her breathing slowed, she became all too aware of Seth’s firm chest beneath her cheek, along with the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. If she thought her legs would hold her, she ought to put some distance between them. He was her employer, after all. Besides, how many times would he come to her rescue like this before he convinced his grandmother she was unfit for the job?


Dear Reader (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51),

Though my husband and I left Texas several years ago to be closer to our grandchildren, as a native Texan with Hill Country family connections, I truly enjoyed this fictional return to my roots. Naturally, the story required a handsome cowboy, and what better setting than a friendly small town and a guest ranch with horses?

Of course, every good story must have conflict, and Christina and her service dog provided exactly what it would take for Seth to change his overprotective mindset and release the fears that held him back from falling in love again. But Christina also had some growing to do. Before she could open her heart to love, she first had to come to full acceptance of both her strengths and her limitations.

Maybe you’re facing a situation in which you feel afraid, inadequate or even defeated. If so, remember the Lord’s words to Joshua: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9, NIV). We are not alone in our struggles. Even when everything seems to conspire against us, we can carry on in faith, knowing that God has already won the ultimate victory.

Thank you for joining me for Seth and Christina’s story. I love to hear from readers, so please contact me through my website, www.MyraJohnson.com (http://myrajohnson.com/), or write to me c/o Love Inspired Books, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.

With blessings and gratitude,

Myra


Award-winning author MYRA JOHNSON writes emotionally gripping stories about love, life and faith. She is a two-time finalist for the ACFW Carol Award and winner of the 2005 RWA Golden Heart® Award. Married since 1972, Myra and her husband have two married daughters and seven grandchildren. Although Myra is a native Texan, she and her husband now reside in North Carolina, sharing their home with two pampered rescue dogs.


Her Hill Country Cowboy

Myra Johnson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Have I not commanded you?

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid;

do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God

will be with you wherever you go.

—Joshua 1:9


With gratitude for those very special service animals who assist and hearten their humans in so many ways, and with deepest admiration for the dedicated trainers who prepare these animals to serve with loyalty and unconditional love.

Many thanks also to my dear friend and fellow author Janet Dean, whose ideas and insights helped tremendously during the early development of this story. As always, I’m grateful for my family’s love and encouragement, as well as the friendship and support of all my “sisters” in Seekerville (seekerville.blogspot.com (http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com)).


Contents

Cover (#u6b1633ea-d0b6-52c7-8628-fd9f6e3e5767)

Back Cover Text (#u2e4a2fdf-3cfe-57ec-9ce9-71bbc54001f4)

Introduction (#uda9d3f49-b43d-50ce-8b33-e69b2aab1951)

Dear Reader (#uc1c589c6-9e93-5468-a30a-c1c84a5ef80e)

About the Author (#ud9ed19d9-a3b1-5b4b-9f6e-3d907523197a)

Title Page (#u481e3975-8b48-5580-8268-f2e5983204e1)

Bible Verse (#ua4628903-4ccb-5d3a-8ece-c40407db55b6)

Dedication (#u2424ec04-7ab5-552f-bcda-65556e768a4c)

Chapter One (#ub4dd4088-bf80-51d6-a20c-bae905b5d0f3)

Chapter Two (#u5d8956e0-d4d1-5bf8-bcef-ff96b8e506e8)

Chapter Three (#uf3fad857-146f-5f94-8a51-4604b9edceba)

Chapter Four (#udbc6e2ca-7fb2-5dce-8e27-a584afa131db)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51)

Christina Hunter flexed her stiff fingers gripping the steering wheel and shot an anxious glance at the GPS display on her smartphone. Good, still following the blue line.

“In five hundred feet, turn right.”

“Thank you, Map Lady.” Flicking on her right blinker, she slowed as she approached the intersection.

Driving through the quaint downtown area of Juniper Bluff, Texas, felt like stepping back in time, but after her near-fatal auto accident two years ago, followed by a slow and difficult recovery, she was more than ready for a change of scenery. Small shops and businesses bordered a central square with a fountain at one end and a gazebo at the other. In the middle stood a statue of a horse and rider. A local hero, maybe? If Christina’s new job worked out, she might get to stay long enough to learn something about the guy.

But these days, everything in her life was a big if.

After making the turn, Christina patted her sweet, unflappable golden retriever, curled up in the passenger seat. “What do you say, Gracie? Ready to try small-town living?”

The dog thumped her tail, and those big brown eyes, so full of loyalty and affection, tugged hard at Christina’s heart.

“I couldn’t do this without you, girl. You know that, right—?”

Brake lights ahead jerked Christina’s attention back to her driving. A pickup swung over to the curb, and a tall man wearing a cowboy hat jumped out. Trotting to the middle of the road, he waved his arms in a frantic signal for Christina to stop. She slammed on the brakes and thrust out one hand to steady Gracie. Good thing the dog was safely secured in her harness.

Unfortunately, the sudden stop killed the car engine.

Heart pounding, Christina lowered her window and leaned out. “Is there a problem?”

“Sorry,” the man yelled. He stooped to pick up something in the street—a turtle?—and carried it across to the other side.

“Good grief. Really?” Glancing skyward, Christina shook her head. Was it a thing in small-town Texas to stop and help wildlife safely across the road?

Then she noticed the two anxious faces peering through the rear window of the pickup. A solemn-faced little boy held fast to a smaller girl and patted her shoulder. Even at this distance, Christina could see the girl’s chin quivering as she swiped wetness from her cheeks.

Poor kid.

But what a great dad.

Christina’s irritation eased. Formerly a social worker who’d championed children in trouble, she’d encountered too many fathers who didn’t deserve the title. How could she not admire a man willing to risk life and limb to protect his kids from witnessing a poor, defenseless creature crushed beneath the wheels of an automobile?

On his way back to the pickup, the man caught Christina’s eye and tipped his hat, briefly revealing sun-kissed caramel-colored hair in need of a trim. His crooked smile, combined with the happy cheers of his kids as they hung out the driver’s-side window, more than made up for the alarm Christina had suffered as a result of her abrupt stop.

Time to settle her nerves and get back on the road so she could meet her new employer. But when she turned the key in the ignition, the only response from under the hood was a rumbling groan. Another try, and the rumble faded to a sputtering cough.

“Not now. Oh, please, not now!” Christina slapped the steering wheel as a fresh surge of anxiety threatened to choke her.

Gracie whined. Rising on her haunches, the dog licked Christina’s ear and rested a paw on her thigh.

“I know, I know.” Forcing slow, deep breaths, Christina sank her fingers deep into the soft fur behind Gracie’s ears.

The man in the cowboy hat appeared at her window. “Everything okay, ma’am?”

“I—I can’t get my car started.” Christina despised the helpless-female quaver in her voice.

“Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

“That’s okay. I can—”

Too late. He’d already moved around to the front of the car. Oh, well, as a newcomer in a strange town, it wasn’t as if Christina had a lot of options. A call to the auto club could mean waiting an hour or more, especially this far away from a good-sized city, and she was already a day overdue to start her new job.

Wearily, she found the hood release and pulled the lever. Now all she could see in the space between the dashboard and the hood was the man’s strong, capable-looking hands. He fiddled with a car part here, another one there, then told her to try the ignition again.

The car started right up. Christina released a shaky cry of relief as the man slammed down the hood. With an elbow resting on the window frame, she called a relieved “Thank you!”

“No problem. It was kinda my fault, anyway. And thank you for stopping.” He tilted his head toward the kids watching from the pickup. “If I hadn’t rescued that critter, I’d have caught all kinds of what-for from those two.”

“Well, we couldn’t have that.” A pang of envy caught Christina by surprise. Did his wife know how blessed she was to be married to such a caring husband and father? With a quiet sigh, she reached for the gearshift. “I should get going. No more, uh, critters in the road, are there?”

The man looked both ways. “Coast is clear.” He hesitated. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Christina attempted a light laugh. “What gave me away?”

“No front license plate. Texas cars and trucks have both front and rear.”

Right. And in Arkansas they didn’t. Two days on the road and Little Rock already felt like a lifetime ago.

“If you need directions or anything...”

Christina pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She’d been driving almost nonstop since leaving the motel north of Dallas that morning, and she only wanted to reach her destination, meet her new employer and start settling in. Unwilling to risk the GPS getting her lost in the middle of nowhere, she glanced up with a tentative smile. “Maybe you could tell me if I’m heading in the right direction for Serenity Hills Guest Ranch.”

One eye narrowed. “You have a reservation?”

“Sort of.” It wasn’t any of this stranger’s business, but her employment arrangement did include the use of a private cabin.

Dipping his head, the man looked past Christina and frowned toward Gracie. “Then you should know the ranch has a no-pets policy.”

“Gracie isn’t a pet. She’s a registered service dog.” Guess he hadn’t noticed the blue vest Gracie wore.

“Be that as it may, you still can’t—”

A car horn blared behind them, and Christina startled. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed a dusty tan SUV.

“Hey, Seth,” the whiskered driver bellowed through his open window. “Do your jawin’ somewhere’s else, will ya?”

“Cool your jets, LeRoy. The lady just had a little car trouble. Pull around if you’re in a hurry.”

Car trouble she wouldn’t have had if Seth hadn’t forced her to stop so he could move a turtle out of danger. And now he was telling her they wouldn’t allow Gracie at the ranch? Obviously, he was ignorant about laws regarding service animals.

And obviously, she’d misjudged his solicitous nature.

As the SUV eased around them, Christina gripped the steering wheel and shot a curt glance at the man at her window. “Thanks again for getting my car started. I’m sure I can find my way from here.”

“But the dog—”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. Shifting into Drive, she left the do-gooder cowboy and his pickup behind. This transition was hard enough without letting an opinionated—and clearly uninformed—stranger rattle her.

So much for her initial admiration for a kindhearted dad who rescued defenseless animals. She could only pray she didn’t cross his path again anytime soon.

* * *

Seth Austin ground his teeth. Yes, the guest ranch had been short on business this summer, but the last thing he needed was a lodger who thought she could ignore the rules.

Although he was pretty certain he would have remembered if they’d had a reservation for a Tuesday night. Most of their guests arrived on Thursday or Friday for a weekend stay, or else on Sunday if they had reservations for a full week.

Then it hit him. His grandmother had hired a new housekeeper, who should have reported yesterday, only something had come up and she’d postponed her arrival for a day.

“Please, please, please, Lord,” Seth mumbled as he strode to his pickup. “Don’t let that woman be her.”

She sure didn’t look like any housekeeper they’d ever had on the place. Too pretty, for one thing—and it galled Seth to realize he’d even noticed. Shoulder-length golden-blond hair, eyes the color of fresh-brewed coffee. And just as potent, apparently, because Seth couldn’t feel more wired if he’d polished off a whole pot of his grandmother’s strong brew.

“Daddy?” Nine-year-old Joseph scrambled out of the way as Seth climbed into the cab. “Is the turtle gonna be all right?”

“Sure thing. He’s probably happily munching on dandelions by now.” Seth twisted around to make sure Eva, his six-year-old, was buckled into her booster seat behind him.

Joseph crawled between the seats and buckled up in his spot next to Eva. “Who was that lady in the car, Daddy?”

“Just somebody new in town.”

Eva sniffled. “She had a big dog.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gone now. Nothing to worry about.” Laying his Stetson on the passenger seat, Seth sent his little girl a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror, then belted in behind the wheel. On the worrisome chance the woman was the new housekeeper, he’d be sending her right back to town with directions to Doc Ingram’s so she could board that beast of hers at Juniper Bluff’s only veterinary clinic. Service dog or not, Seth wasn’t about to let the animal anywhere near his kids.

He had one more stop to make on his way home. At the farm-and-ranch supply on the outskirts of town, the kids latched onto both his hands as he waited for Wally, the teenage store helper, to load four fifty-pound bags of horse feed into the pickup bed. When Wally tipped his baseball cap at Eva, she scooted farther behind Seth’s leg.

“Shy as ever, ain’t you, sweet thing?” Wally glanced up at Seth with a regretful frown.

Seth had long ago grown tired of fending off such remarks about his little girl, skittish as a newborn foal. Eva would get over her timidity when she was good and ready. “Thanks, Wally. Hop in the truck, kids.”

Twenty minutes later, he backed the pickup up to the barn door. As he helped the kids to the ground, his grandfather ambled through the opening. Bryan Peterson, Seth’s mother’s dad, walked with a slight limp, thanks to his horse taking a misstep some twenty years ago and both of them landing in a gully.

The kids darted over to greet their great-grandfather, affectionately known as Opi, a German endearment for grandpa. “Daddy helped a turtle get to the other side of the road,” Joseph announced. “Then he had to fix a lady’s car that wouldn’t start.”

“Sounds like y’all had yourselves a little adventure in town.” Opi tousled Joseph’s mop of tawny hair. “Why don’t you take your sister to the house? I think Omi has some chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.”

Seth’s heart clenched as he watched the indecision play across his son’s face. Since their mother’s death not quite three years ago, neither of the kids strayed far from Seth’s side. But the lure of those fresh-baked cookies finally won out. Joseph grabbed Eva’s hand, and together they jogged across the lane to the white three-story farmhouse that served as both their home and the guest ranch offices.

Only then did Seth notice the blue compact sedan parked in the gravel lot behind the house. He yanked off his Stetson and slapped it against his leg. “Shoulda known.”

“What, son?” Opi hefted one of the feed sacks.

“The car over there. Our new housekeeper?”

“Yep. Pretty little thing.” As if Seth needed reminding. “Your grandma’s getting her paperwork in order.” Shifting the feed sack to his shoulder, Opi started for the storeroom.

“You told her she couldn’t keep the dog here, right?”

“It’s a service dog. Got no choice.”

Bile rose in Seth’s throat. They most certainly did have a choice. Omi would just have to find another housekeeper.

He stormed across the lane, but before he made it to the back door, he spied Eva shivering on the wooden swing at the far end of the porch. “Aw, baby.”

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth long enough to whimper, “The big dog’s in there, Daddy!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Sweeping Eva into his arms, he sank onto the swing and held her close. It was all he could do to speak calm, soothing words to his little girl while a cauldron of fury boiled in his gut.

“Omi gave me a cookie and said to wait out here.” Eva looked up, tears pooling in eyes as brown as the chocolate smearing the tip of her nose. “Can you make the big dog go away?”

Seth fully intended to, but he dare not make promises to his daughter until after he cleared the matter with his grandmother. Marie Peterson pretty much ruled the roost at Serenity Hills Guest Ranch, and she’d have to be the one to send this woman on her way.

“Tell you what,” he said, shifting Eva onto the swing beside him. “I’ll walk you over to Opi in the barn, and you can give him a hand feeding the horses while I talk to Omi about the lady with the big dog.”

The suggestion seemed to mollify Eva. She nodded and slid off the swing, then clung to Seth’s fingers as they headed over to the barn. Once Eva had transferred her death grip from Seth’s hand to Opi’s, Seth marched back to the house. He squared his shoulders and hauled in a determined breath before yanking open the screen door.

Stepping into the kitchen, he found Joseph perched on a barstool at one end of the granite counter. A milk mustache adorned the boy’s upper lip, and cookie crumbs dotted the counter. At the oak trestle table beyond, the housekeeper wannabe sat with her back toward Seth while Omi went over some paperwork with her. The dog lay on the floor between their chairs.

Joseph didn’t share Eva’s intense fear of dogs, but he still looked plenty glad to see his dad walk in. He jumped down and ran over to hug Seth around the waist. “Where’s Eva?”

“With Opi.” Seth kept his voice light. “You want to go help them in the barn?”

Joseph’s welcoming smile faded. “Can’t I stay here with you?”

“I need to talk business with Omi. Go keep an eye on your sister, okay?”

Lower lip thrust out, Joseph trudged across the kitchen. Seth waited until he heard the back door bang shut, then strode around the bar.

Omi looked up as he approached. “Hey, Seth, meet our new housekeeper. Christina, this is my grandson, Seth Austin.”

He glared at the woman while trying to ignore how her hair shimmered beneath the wagon-wheel chandelier. “I believe we’ve already met.”

* * *

Her pulse skittering, Christina looked up with a gasp. “You?”

“Surprise.” Seth Austin’s greeting held no warmth whatsoever.

“Seth...?” Mrs. Peterson’s tone was part question, part warning.

“We sort of ran into each other in town this afternoon,” Seth muttered. He looked pointedly at Gracie. “I told you we can’t have dogs on the place.”

“We’ve already talked this through,” Mrs. Peterson said patiently. “Gracie is Christina’s service dog.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Seth’s fierce stare wavered as he glanced toward his grandmother. “But think about Eva. You know this can’t work.” He swung his gaze back to Christina. “I’m sorry, Miss—”

“Hunter.” Christina swallowed nervously. Was she about to get fired before she’d even filled out her W-4?

“Miss Hunter. Like I told you in town, we’ve got rules. This is a working ranch, and safety is our number one concern. We aren’t in a position to start making exceptions.”

Whining softly, Gracie sat up and rested her chin on Christina’s leg. When Christina glanced down into those soft, expressive eyes, the tension that had welled at Seth’s arrival slowly subsided. One hand on Gracie’s head, she sat a little straighter and cleared her throat. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Austin. As long as Gracie isn’t disruptive and doesn’t interfere with my work, I have the legal right to keep her with me.”

Jaw clenched, Seth backed up a step. His steely gaze combed Christina from head to toe. “Housekeeping at a guest ranch isn’t exactly light work, and you look pretty able-bodied to me.” His tone turned skeptical. “So forgive me for asking, but what exactly is your disability?”

Christina pressed her lips together. She should be used to the question by now, along with the typical doubts. If she’d lost her sight or hearing, or if she were in a wheelchair, her disability and need for a service animal would be obvious. But when she explained she’d suffered a brain injury and had post-traumatic stress disorder, she’d come to expect the raised eyebrows and dubious frowns.

Before she could form a response, Mrs. Peterson interrupted. “Now, Seth, stop the third degree and be a gentleman. Christina’s been forthright with me about why she needs Gracie, and I’m not anticipating any problems.”

Seth glared at his grandmother as if debating his chances of winning this argument. Christina held her breath and prayed. She needed this job. It could mean the difference between being stuck forever living with her overprotective parents or groping her way back to independence and a normal life.

“All right, have it your way.” With a sharp exhalation, Seth turned to go. Before he’d taken three steps, he swung around and leveled a finger at Christina. “But first sign of a problem and you’re out of here, got it? And keep that dog away from my kids.”

Christina didn’t realize how badly she’d started shaking until she felt Gracie’s wet nose beneath her palm. Giving the dog all her attention, she forced herself to breathe. Get back in the car and go home, her inner voice demanded. You’re not ready. This was a mistake. A huge, horrible mistake.

Mrs. Peterson set a glass of water at Christina’s place. “Seth’s all bluster and very little bite. He’s got his issues, too. Give him time and he’ll come around.”

After taking a sip of water, Christina slid the employment papers across the table. “You’ve been very understanding, but your grandson clearly doesn’t want me here.” She pushed unsteadily to her feet. “I don’t think this is going to work out after all.”

“Now hold on, honey.” Mrs. Peterson shoved the paperwork back toward Christina. “We’ve got fourteen guests coming for a family reunion this weekend. Where do you think we’re gonna find another housekeeper on such short notice?”

Christina sighed and glanced toward the window. Near the barn, Seth knelt in front of his children, and the little girl’s face looked anything but happy. When she and her brother had come to the house earlier, the girl had taken one look at Gracie and run screaming into her great-grandmother’s arms. At least Mrs. Peterson hadn’t overreacted. She’d calmly offered the little girl a cookie and led her out to the porch.

Seth had issues? Apparently his children did, too. As an experienced child and family social worker, and emotionally traumatized herself as a result of her auto accident, Christina recognized the signs. Was it possible God had sent her here for this very reason, to offer help to a troubled family?

Shoulders sagging, she returned to her chair. “All right, I’ll stay. But let’s take it one day at a time. The last thing I want is to cause more problems for those kids.”

“Believe me, honey, you’ll be like a breath of fresh air around here. I felt it in my bones from our very first phone interview.” Mrs. Peterson handed Christina a pen. “Let’s get these papers filled out, and then I’ll show you to your cabin so you and Gracie can get comfortable in your new digs.”


Chapter Two (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51)

Seth kept the kids occupied helping Opi with simple barn chores until he was certain their new housekeeper had finished her business with Omi and had gone to her cabin. He couldn’t avoid Christina Hunter indefinitely, but he’d make sure she kept her dog well away from Eva. This being Christina’s first night on the place, Seth figured Omi would invite her to the house for supper, so he decided to take the kids down to the picnic area by the lake and grill something for just the three of them.

While he stood in the utility room digging through the chest-type freezer for franks or burgers, Omi came up behind him. “I know you’re mad, Seth, but you might as well get over it. Christina’s staying. And so is her dog.”

He nearly rammed his head on the freezer lid as he straightened to face his grandmother. “I don’t tell you how to run the ranch, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere in how I take care of my kids.”

“That’s a laugh!” Omi set her hands at her ample waist. “You’ve always got plenty to say about how we run things around here, and I’m right glad you do. But the truth is, somebody needs to tell you a thing or two about how you’re raising those youngsters. Georgia’s been gone three years now. You aren’t helping your kids one bit by mollycoddling them like you do.”

“You know as well as I do the heartache Joseph and Eva have suffered.” Seth fought to keep his voice level. “I’m just trying to give them the room they need to heal. What’s wrong with that?”

“Not a blasted thing. Except I worry all this room you’re giving them—without the benefit of some kind of counseling—is just more space to wallow in their grief and fear.”

“We tried counseling.” Returning his attention to his quest, Seth pushed aside some frozen pizzas. “If you remember, it was an interfering social worker who nearly lost me my kids.”

“You can’t write off the whole field of psychology because one dimwit couldn’t see past the end of her nose.”

Green beans, stir-fry mix, brown-and-serve rolls—there had to be franks and buns in here somewhere. Seth’s fingers were getting numb.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Omi snapped. When he told her his intentions, she scoffed. “No cause to run off and hide. Christina’s worn out from her trip. I’m sending a plate of food to her cabin.”

Nose in the air, Omi marched out of the utility room, leaving Seth to stew in his own lousy mood. Maybe he had grown too protective of his kids, but he wasn’t taking any more chances with their frail little spirits. When Georgia had left him, taking the kids with her, Seth had nearly gone off the deep end. To this day, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been able to make his wife happy right here on the ranch.

But no, with a degree in urban design from Texas A&M, Georgia wanted more than Juniper Bluff had to offer. When a big-name architectural firm in Minneapolis offered her a position, she said yes first and informed Seth after the fact.

He should have seen right then that there were more problems in his marriage than Georgia’s need for career fulfillment.

And he should never have allowed her to take the kids. He could shoulder the blame for the upheaval they’d suffered, because if he’d swallowed his stupid male pride and followed Georgia to Minneapolis instead of staying put and waging the war for his marriage and his kids long distance, things might have turned out a whole lot differently.

Some things, anyway. A deep, throbbing ache rolled through him. He slammed down the freezer lid and leaned hard into it while he tried to shove the memories from his mind. The phone call from his mother-in-law saying Georgia had gotten sick. The unbearable wait for test results. The wondering, the questions, the prayers. Then the devastating cancer diagnosis that gave Georgia only weeks to live.

“Seth?” His grandfather’s voice sounded behind him. “You okay?”

He straightened and drew a hand down his face. The day’s growth of whiskers rasped beneath his palm. “Yeah, fine.”

“Omi’s got supper on the table. I had the kids wash up.”

“Be right there. I need to wash up, too.”

A splash of cold water soothed his stinging eyes. Joining his family at the table, he plucked a piece of straw from Eva’s hair as he sat down beside her. Leaning over to plant a kiss on her sweet blond head, he thought his heart would burst with all the love he felt for this child. For both his children.

Clearing his throat meaningfully, Opi reached for Eva’s hand on one side and Joseph’s on the other. Seth joined hands with Eva and Omi as his grandfather bowed his head to offer thanks.

Afterward, Joseph helped himself to a hefty serving of Omi’s seasoned pan fries. “Opi says tomorrow we can ride over to Mr. Nesbit’s farm and see his calves.”

Eva tugged on Seth’s sleeve and whispered, “You’ll come, too, won’t you, Daddy?”

“Sure, hon. Soon as chores are done, we’ll all go.” It would be a good excuse to get the kids away from the ranch and avoid running into the housekeeper and her dog.

Omi passed a platter of sliced ham to Seth, but before he could serve himself, a knock sounded on the back door. Omi offered a placid smile. “Seth, would you mind?”

He did mind, because the only other person on the place tonight was Christina Hunter. He forked a slab of ham onto his plate and smiled right back. “Maybe you should get it.”

“You’ll get there faster than I can. Let’s not keep our visitor waiting.”

Yep, Marie Peterson definitely reigned supreme at Serenity Hills. Muttering under his breath, Seth wadded his napkin next to his plate and marched to the door. Through the glass pane, he glimpsed Christina standing on the porch, arms folded as she glanced right and left. The evening dusk was gathering, and something about the anxious look on her face made him swallow the caustic greeting on the tip of his tongue.

He opened the inner door and spoke through the screen. “Can I help you?”

“Oh. Hi.” She seemed surprised to see him standing there. “I—well—this is embarrassing, but I’ve already locked myself out of my cabin.”

“Hang on. I’ll get you another key.” Seth should have invited her inside, but it wasn’t happening while she had the dog with her. He slipped down the short hallway to the office, where he fetched a duplicate key.

On his return trip, his grandmother stopped him in the kitchen and handed him a tray covered with an oversize checkered napkin. “Here’s Christina’s supper. Tell her to come on over for breakfast in the morning, seven sharp.”

Seth ground his teeth. Good thing the kids rarely came downstairs before seven thirty. “You planning on having her eat with us every meal?”

“Of course not. Just till she settles in and has a chance to pick up some groceries for herself.”

Lips in a twist, Seth dropped the key onto the tray and continued to the back door. He nudged it open with his hip. “My grandmother sent this tray for you. The key’s right here.”

“Thanks. Sorry to cause so much trouble.” One hand on the dog’s head, Christina looked ready to jump out of her skin.

Seth figured he’d kick himself later, but his kindlier instincts kicked in. Nice to realize he still had a few. “Would you feel better if I walked you back to the cabin?”

“Please don’t bother. You already think little enough of me.” Her throat shifted. She reached for the tray. “I’ll just—”

“No, wait.” Rats, all he needed was to go soft over a woman in distress. Looked like his own supper would be getting cold. “The path can be tricky after dark, especially before all the vapor lights power up. I’ll make sure you get back safely.”

“You really don’t mind?”

Seth harrumphed. “Need to make sure the pasture gates got latched. Might as well see you to your cabin on the way.”

Christina looked at him sideways as if she didn’t quite believe him, but a little of her apprehension seemed to have lifted. They started down the path together, Seth carrying the tray and making sure to walk on the opposite side from her dog. No sense giving Christina the idea he’d softened his stance on the animal’s presence. Because he hadn’t and he wouldn’t.

The ranch had two staff cabins, located on the far side of the main house and secluded from the guest cabins. They had to walk past the garage and a couple of outbuildings, then through a copse of trees, and Christina kept her hand on the dog’s shoulder the whole way. Seth still hadn’t been told what her disability was that required a service animal, but if it caused this much anxiety, he could see why the shadowy trek to her cabin might be a problem.

All the more reason she didn’t belong on the ranch. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for his grandmother to come to the same conclusion, as well.

* * *

Christina was glad the cabin’s porch light operated on a sensor. The sun hadn’t quite set when she’d gone out earlier on a walk with Gracie. Stupidly, she hadn’t thought to take her key and discovered too late that the door locked automatically. She’d really, really hoped it would be Mrs. Peterson who answered her knock. Seeing Seth on the other side of the screen door had sent her misgivings soaring. How would she endure working here when his dislike was so palpable?

Except he was being pretty nice at the moment, and it didn’t help her nerves one bit now that she knew he was single. Mrs. Peterson hadn’t said much about Seth’s wife except that they’d separated and soon afterward she’d become ill and passed away.

He set the tray of food on one of the retro-style red metal porch chairs, then picked up the key and unlocked her door. “There you go. Need anything else?”

“I should be fine now. Thank you so much.”

“Oh, uh, breakfast at the house at seven. Omi’s orders.” He even smiled a tiny bit when he said it.

“Omi. What a cute name.” Tray in hand, Christina stood in the doorway. “Does it have special meaning?”

“It’s a German-family thing. My great-great-grandparents emigrated from Germany and settled in the Fredericksburg area.”

“I came through Fredericksburg on my way to Juniper Bluff. Looks like a fun town to visit.”

“Yeah.” Seth shifted, the need to escape evident in his darting eyes.

“Well. Thanks again.” Christina nodded toward the tray, then smiled up at him. “And thank your grandmother for the meal.”

He tipped an imaginary hat before retreating down the steps and disappearing into the trees.

With darkness rapidly closing in around the cabin, Christina once again succumbed to doubts. Until last night at the motel, she hadn’t been alone overnight since before the automobile accident. The whole time she’d been in the hospital, her mother hadn’t left her side except to shower, change clothes and eat. Not that Christina had been aware the first few weeks while she’d lain in a coma, but later, as she recovered, her father had confirmed her suspicions.

Then five months in a rehabilitation hospital, where Christina had a talkative teenage roommate for the first several weeks, then a nosy grandmotherly type for the remainder of her stay. The past year and a half, she’d lived at home with her parents. And Gracie, of course. Christina blessed the day the service dog had come into her life. Gracie’s training included sensing Christina’s agitation whenever memories of the accident intruded or something else triggered an anxiety attack. A nudge with a wet nose would remind Christina to breathe again and to focus on the present, not the unchangeable past or the uncertain future.

Like now. As Christina sat at the small table in the kitchenette, Gracie’s soft whine alerted her to the fact that she’d scarcely eaten half of the delicious meal Mrs. Peterson had sent over. She tore off a piece of ham and offered it to the dog, who happily gobbled it down.

Concentrating on the tasty supper and Mrs. Peterson’s kindness helped Christina put the stress of the day behind her. After washing the dishes and stacking them on the tray to return in the morning, she unpacked a few things and arranged her daily medications in the bathroom medicine cabinet. She didn’t like having to depend on prescription meds and prayed the day would come when all these drugs for depression, anxiety and migraines would no longer be necessary.

She swallowed her nighttime pills, then changed into her pajamas and propped herself up in bed with the novel she’d brought along. Gracie hopped up beside her and snuggled in close, laying her head on Christina’s knee.

Before Christina had read two pages, her cell phone rang. Recognizing the chime she’d assigned to her mother, she snatched the phone off the nightstand. “Hi, Mom.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear from you.” Her mother couldn’t disguise a note of worry. “Where are you? Did you get there okay?”

“All tucked into my cozy little cabin. A day late, but I’m safely here.”

“I was worried after you called from the motel last night. You sounded so frazzled.”

“I told you, it was just travel stress. You were right—I had no business trying to drive straight through in one day.”

“Well, I’m glad you had sense enough to stop for the night and get some rest.” Mom sighed through the phone. “Honey, are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

Gracie crept closer and nuzzled Christina’s arm. Her expressive eyes seemed to say, You’re fine. I’m here. Just breathe.

“Mom, I told you, I need to do this. Yes, it’s going to be hard, but I’ve got to start depending on myself again.”

“But you could have done so right here in Little Rock, with Dad and me close by if you needed us.”

Christina combed her fingers through Gracie’s thick coat and sought the words to help her mother understand. “I love you, Mom. And I can never, ever thank you and Dad enough for how you’ve been there for me every step of the way. But if I’d stayed in Little Rock, it would be too easy to fall back on your support when any little thing went wrong.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, of course not. But I wouldn’t be getting better. I need to get stronger, Mom.” Tears pricked Christina’s eyes. “And I need you to help me by giving me the space to do it.”

Her mother grew silent for a moment. “Are you telling me not to call? Not even to find out how you’re doing?”

Swallowing hard, Christina squeezed her eyes shut. “Just for a while, okay? I promise I’ll call you in a few days, after I’ve had a chance to learn my new job and...” She started to say, see if this is going to work, but that would only play into her mother’s concerns, not to mention feed her own.

“Chrissy...”

“I’m really tired, Mom, and I’ll be getting an early start in the morning, so I need to go.” Christina forced a smile into her voice. “Give Dad a hug for me. Love you both. Bye!”

She clicked off before her mother could wheedle another minute or two of conversation out of her. It was barely past eight, but two days on the road had taken their toll. After slipping on a robe and slippers and tucking the cabin key securely into her pocket, she took Gracie outside for one more trip before lights-out.

As she looked up into the night sky, a gasp caught in her throat. Never in her life had she seen so many stars! The words of a psalm bloomed in her thoughts and swelled her heart: The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.

She could do this. With God’s help, she’d get back into life and once again stand on her own two feet.

* * *

By noon the next day, those feet Christina was so insistent on standing on hurt like crazy. She’d trekked from the main house to the storage building to cabin after cabin with Marie Peterson.

Marie’s first request, gently worded but firm, was that Gracie remain outside the guest cabins, the public rooms in the main house and the kitchen food-preparation area. “Well-groomed and obedient as Gracie is,” Marie stated, “we have to abide by health department regulations and can’t risk complaints about dog hair or allergy issues.”

Christina understood perfectly, and at each cabin she asked Gracie to stay outside by the door. It was enough to know the dog waited nearby.

Learning what her housekeeping duties consisted of, where supplies were kept and how to find her way around the ranch had taken most of the morning. And not once had she caught a glimpse of Seth Austin. Since his macho-looking maroon truck was nowhere to be seen either, Christina guessed he’d gone off somewhere with his children and was intentionally avoiding her.

“So the soiled sheets and towels go in this bin,” Marie said as they stood in the workroom behind the garage. “And then a service picks them up once or twice a week as needed and delivers a fresh batch.”

“Got it.” Jotting the instructions in her pocket-size notebook, Christina glanced longingly at a metal folding chair propped against the wall. “You said you aren’t expecting guests until the weekend, right?”

“They’ll start trickling in sometime tomorrow, but most won’t arrive till Friday afternoon. You’ll need to tidy their cabins each day while they’re at meals or out on excursions or whatever.”

Good, she needn’t worry about too many personal encounters, one huge reason why she’d initially thought this housekeeping position might be something she could handle.

What she hadn’t weighed into the equation was the amount of physical labor involved. Pushing a fully loaded maid’s cart from cabin to cabin would require the use of muscles Christina hadn’t called upon in longer than she cared to admit. At home, her parents paid for biweekly maid service, which had made it easy to grow lazy about everyday household chores. Mom’s hovering hadn’t helped, and she wouldn’t accept that babying Christina so much only prolonged her recovery.

Marie scanned her notes on a clipboard. “That about covers it. Ready for some lunch?”

“Starved!” Christina tucked away her notebook, already overflowing with the lists and reminders she relied upon daily, and fell in step with her employer on the path to the house. “I’m planning on picking up some groceries this afternoon, though.”

“No hurry. You’re welcome at our table anytime.”

“Thanks, but...” Christina’s voice faded as she caught sight of Seth leading a horse out of the barn. He moved with the same easy grace she’d observed yesterday when he’d carried the turtle across the road.

“Oh, good, Seth’s back.” Marie climbed the porch steps and yanked the cord of a big iron bell hanging from the eaves. The sharp clang made both Christina and Gracie jump. “Sorry,” Marie said with a chuckle. “Better get used to the sound of the dinner bell.”

Seth glanced their way and waved, but when he met Christina’s gaze, his smile stiffened and he abruptly turned away.

Following Marie inside, Christina said, “Maybe I should just take a sandwich back to my cabin.”

“Nonsense. We’re still getting acquainted.” Marie pointed through a door off the kitchen. “Powder room’s that way. Go wash up, and then you can help set the table.”

Clearly, no one argued with Marie Peterson. Besides, it was refreshing not to be pampered.

Hands washed, Christina returned to the kitchen with Gracie ambling alongside. Christina didn’t see Marie anywhere, but Seth stood at the counter, a jar of mayonnaise in one hand and a knife in the other.

A scuffling sound to Christina’s right alerted her to Seth’s little girl clambering up the farthest barstool. Stark terror widened Eva’s eyes as she stared at Gracie. “Daddy, the doggy’s in here!”

The look Seth shot Christina cut deeper than a knife ever could. “I told you to keep your dog away from my kids.”

“I—I’m sorry.” Hands trembling, she groped for Gracie’s collar, prepared to make a hasty exit.

Gracie had different ideas. The dog plopped down on her haunches and refused to budge.

“Come on, girl. Let’s go outside, okay?” Christina flicked a nervous glance at Seth.

He smirked. “I thought service dogs were supposed to be well trained.”

“She is. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Now the dog lay sprawled across the tile floor at the end of the bar. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn, then she rested her chin on her paws and her eyes drifted shut.

“Gracie! What are you doing?” Christina knelt and lifted the dog’s head. “Are you okay?”

Gracie responded by swiping her tongue across Christina’s nose. Nothing in those bright eyes suggested illness. In fact, Christina had the sudden suspicion that Gracie knew exactly what she was doing.

From the far side of the room came a tiny voice: “Daddy, is the doggy sick?”

“Not sure, sweetie.” Two scuffed boot toes appeared at Christina’s left. “What’s going on with your dog?”

“I don’t know. She’s never acted like this before.” Sitting on her heels, Christina looked up with a helpless shrug.

Marie returned through the door leading to the reception area. “Oh my, is your dog hurt?”

Just as quickly as she’d lain down, Gracie scrambled to her feet. Tail wagging, she trotted over and licked Marie’s hand.

Eva whimpered. “Omi, don’t let it bite you!”

“Oh, she’s fine, honey.” Marie gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. “Hey there, sweet thing. Are we friends now?”

Pushing up from the floor, Christina edged away from Seth, who looked ready to charge to his little girl’s defense. But Eva’s expression, though still fearful, now held a glimmer of curiosity.

Social worker instincts kicking in, Christina saw an opportunity. “Eva, I think Gracie may be a little bit scared, too.”

The child’s lower lip trembled. “Why?”

“Well, we’re both new here, and we both want very much to fit in. She’d be very sad if she thought you didn’t like her.” Christina scooted one of the barstools closer to Eva’s and climbed on so that they were both looking toward Gracie. The dog now sat quietly at Marie’s feet.

Marie cast Christina a knowing smile as she knelt and continued stroking Gracie’s head. “We like you just fine, Gracie, so don’t be scared. You’re a good dog, aren’t you?”

“But she’s so big.” Eva’s hand crept into Christina’s, and her voice fell to a quavering whisper. “I’m scared of big dogs.”

Such great fear in such a little girl—it broke Christina’s heart. Eva reminded her so much of another little girl, a child who had good reason to be terrified of her abusive father. A child Christina had tried so hard to protect.

And nearly failed.

The blast of a horn. Screeching brakes. The explosive crunch of metal against metal.

As calmly as she could, Christina slid off the barstool and prayed her legs would hold her. “Gracie, let’s go.” This time, her tone left no room for the dog’s disobedience. “Please excuse me. I—I’ll get something to eat later.”

Before anyone could stop her, she bolted for the back door and hoped she’d make it to her cabin before she completely fell apart.

* * *

The look on Christina’s face as she barged out brought a twinge of guilt to Seth’s gut. Why he should feel guilty he had no clue. Everything he did was for the sake of his kids, and if this new housekeeper couldn’t see how her dog terrified his daughter, then it was her problem, not his.

Opi and Joseph came in shortly afterward, oblivious to the previous goings-on. Omi took over the sandwich fixings, and a few minutes later they sat down for lunch. Though no one talked much while they ate, the disgruntled frowns Omi flashed Seth’s way left little doubt as to the direction of her thoughts.

Later, with Eva down for a nap and Joseph stretched out on the family room sofa with a favorite book on his e-reader, Omi informed Seth she needed to talk over some business matters with him in the office.

He didn’t need his imagination to guess what “business” his grandmother had in mind.

“Sit down, son.” She motioned toward one of two leather barrel chairs in front of the massive mahogany desk. Seth obeyed, and she took the chair opposite his.

He drummed his fingers on his thighs. “If this is about Christina—”

“Actually, it’s about you. Your attitude isn’t cutting it, mister. I won’t tolerate you being rude to that sweet girl.”

“Omi—”

She silenced him with an upraised hand. “You think I didn’t notice those ice-dagger glances you were shooting her way? You’ve got to give Christina a chance, son. You know what the Bible says about judging people.”

“‘For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.’ Yeah, I know. You’ve quoted the verse so many times I know it by heart.”

“Then heed it.” Omi sat forward, her gaze earnest. “Seth, honey, I know full well the pain you’ve suffered. But you don’t have a corner on suffering. Grant Christina the benefit of the doubt and stop giving her such a hard time.”

Okay, so he’d been a little tough on the woman, but only because of the dog she couldn’t seem to go anywhere without. Controlling his tone, he said, “Can you at least tell me why she needs a service dog? Because I’m just not seeing it.”

Omi sat back with a tired sigh. “All I’ll say is that she was in a bad car wreck a couple of years ago. She suffered severe head trauma, among other things. Her disability is post-traumatic stress disorder, along with the lingering effects of the brain injury. Gracie helps keep her on an even keel.”

Swiveling toward the window, Seth silently berated himself for being so insensitive. Omi was right—he’d been too quick to judge. “I’m sorry for what she’s been through,” he said through tight lips. “But she still has to respect my need to protect my kids.”

“She does. More than you know.”

Seth swung around to face his grandmother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She merely shook her head as she rose and moved behind the desk. “Tomorrow will be here before we know it. Best get back to work.”

When it was clear his grandmother would say nothing more, Seth stood and marched out of the office. He had plenty to do—tack to clean, a pasture gate to repair, a low spot to fill where the horseback-riding trail cut across a creek. Maybe a few hours of hard labor would take the edge off the bitterness that followed him around like his own personal dark cloud.

Later, returning from spreading a load of gravel at the creek crossing, he glimpsed Christina’s little blue car turning down the lane to her cabin. His next stop was the broken pasture gate, which meant he’d be working only a scant distance from Christina’s door. After parking by the gate, he grabbed his toolbox from the pickup bed and hoped the housekeeper wouldn’t decide to walk her dog anytime soon.

While he searched for a replacement bolt for the gate hinge, the cabin door opened. One hand pressed hard against her left hip, Christina trudged to her car. She popped the trunk and leaned inside, then straightened with plastic grocery bags in each hand. With a grimace and a hitch in her step, she started for the cabin.

Go help her, you idiot. The voice inside Seth’s head shouted with the volume of a megaphone.

Muttering a few choice words, he slammed down the toolbox lid and strode up the lane. Wedging a neighborly smile into his tone, he called, “Looks like you could use a hand.”

Christina halted on the porch steps, her head snapping around in surprise. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

The dog stepped between Christina and Seth, not menacingly but clearly sending a message: Don’t mess with my mistress.

Keeping a respectful distance, Seth firmed his jaw. “You look like you’re hurting. Sure you’re okay?”

“Fine. Just a little sore.” Christina nodded toward the open cabin door. “Excuse me, but these bags are getting heavy, and I’ve got groceries to put away.” When she lifted her left foot, pain slashed across her face. One of the grocery sacks slipped from her grasp.

Seth charged up the steps. With one arm bracing her around the waist, he relieved her of the other bag. “Let’s get you inside. You need to sit down.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” She made a feeble attempt to pull away. “It’s just a muscle spasm. I get them from time to time when I overdo.”

“Like biting off more than you can chew with a heavy-duty housekeeping job?” Shooting a glance skyward, Seth ushered her inside. He needed to let go of her quickly, because he hadn’t held a woman this close since Georgia, and look where that had gotten him. Gently, he eased her into one of the padded side chairs in the sitting area.

She sank down with a groan. “I need time to adjust, that’s all. I haven’t done anything quite so...” She clamped her mouth shut and reached out for the dog, now poised beside her chair.

After gathering up the grocery bags and depositing them on the kitchen table, Seth planted himself in front of Christina and crossed his arms. “My grandmother explained about your accident. And why you need your service dog.”

Christina cast him an uneasy glance. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“Just that you were hurt pretty bad and now you have PTSD.” Exhaling sharply, Seth propped a hip on the arm of the chair across from her. “Look, I know we got off to a rough start, and I should probably apologize.”

“Probably?” Christina released a shaky laugh.

“Okay, I definitely owe you an apology.” He brushed a hand across his nape while deciding how much of his own past to open up about. As little as possible, he reasoned. Doubtful she’d stick around long enough for it to matter. “My grandmother has accused me more than once of being overprotective of my kids.”

Was that a smirk on her face? No, more like a smile of acknowledgment. “Yes, I recognized the signs.”

“Maybe I am,” he said defensively, “but I’ve got my reasons.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out your little girl is deathly afraid of dogs.” Christina’s gaze held his, her tone softening. “May I ask what happened?”

This much he could reveal without too great a risk of deepening the gash in his heart. “My brother-in-law has two Rottweilers. My...wife—” Okay, this was hurting a little more than he’d planned on. He took a stuttering breath. “She, uh, took the kids to visit her brother, and the dogs got a little rough with Eva. She wasn’t even three years old then. The dogs each outweighed her by a hundred pounds.”

“Oh, no. Was she hurt?”

“A few bruises, and a split lip from being knocked down. It wasn’t like they attacked her. They were just being playful and didn’t know their own strength.”

“Still, she must have been terrified.” One hand caressing her dog’s head, Christina sat forward. “I promise you, nothing like that will ever happen with Gracie. There isn’t a gentler animal alive.”

Seth stood. “Just keep her away from my kids.”


Chapter Three (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51)

With last-minute preparations for the reunion guests, Christina had little time to dwell on Seth Austin’s mercurial moods. Seemed he could go from caring and considerate to simmering animosity at the drop of a dusty Stetson.

Also, if she read the situation correctly, he still had unresolved feelings for his late wife. Or ex-wife. Or late ex-wife. Christina still wasn’t totally clear on which label applied. And she definitely wasn’t clear on why it should matter to her, because the last thing she needed in her life was a tall, good-looking cowboy with issues of his own.

Even if his two kids were adorably precious.

When the first of the weekend guests rolled in on Thursday afternoon, Christina thought it wise to get out of the way for a while. She snapped on Gracie’s car harness and buckled her into the passenger seat, then headed for town.

Passing the spot where she’d first encountered Seth brought a quiver to her stomach, so she kept her eyes forward until she turned onto Main Street. Downtown Juniper Bluff appeared no busier now than it had been two days ago when she’d first driven through, which was a good thing because since the accident, Christina didn’t easily abide noise and confusion—another reason she hoped moving to a small town would help her ease back into normal life.

The sun-dappled town square looked peacefully inviting. Christina parked on a side street and walked over with Gracie, and they followed the path to the foot of the horse-and-rider statue. Christina read the inscription on the plaque beneath.

Jake Austin.

Juniper Bluff’s Hometown Hero.

According to the plaque, Austin was a search-and-rescue volunteer who met his death twenty-two years ago while freeing a family trapped in their overturned car.

A tremor raced through Christina as images from her own accident surfaced. Determinedly shaking them off, she focused on the man’s features forever preserved in bronze. The resemblance to Seth was uncanny. Could Jake Austin be his father? If so, Seth would have been a young boy at the time, probably about Joseph’s age. So very young to lose a parent.

Gracie nudged Christina’s hand, the dog’s quiet signal that she sensed Christina’s tension level climbing. How an animal knew such things, Christina had no idea. She was grateful nonetheless and made a conscious effort to relax.

“Okay, girl, let’s walk. After two days of maid’s work, I need to stretch the kinks out.”

After an hour or so of meandering around the square and peeking in a couple of interesting shops, they headed back to the car. Before leaving town, Christina stopped at the supermarket and picked up a rotisserie chicken and small container of three-bean salad. Marie had been cooking all day, and the family would have dinner in the main dining room with the ranch guests. Marie had invited Christina to join them, but Christina doubted she could endure the socializing—or Seth’s annoyed glares—without her dog close by. A quiet supper in her cabin sounded much more appealing.

Hard work and tranquil surroundings were definitely conducive to a good night’s sleep, and Christina awoke the next morning feeling more energized than she had in a long time. The sun had barely peeked over the hills when she trekked to the workroom to organize her housekeeping supplies. As soon as the guests had gone to the main house for breakfast, she trundled the maid’s cart down the path and set to work. She easily finished making beds and freshening bathrooms in the two occupied cabins before the families returned.

Consulting her checklist, she made sure everything was in order in the other three cabins reserved for the weekend, then pushed the cart back to the workroom and deposited a pile of damp towels in the laundry bin. By then, her morning burst of energy had waned. Ready to put her feet up for a bit while sipping a cold drink, she trudged outside.

“Christina!” Marie called from the porch. “Can you come in the house for a minute and give me a hand with something?”

“Sure.” Christina waved and started that way. The soft chair and cold drink would have to wait.

In the kitchen, Christina found Marie huddled over a red-faced, teary-eyed Joseph, perched on a chair at the end of the trestle table. The little boy cradled his left hand and refused to let Marie see it.

Christina hurried forward. “What happened?”

“He was playing in the barn and got a big ol’ splinter. Now he won’t let me pull it out.”

“Ouch.” Offering Joseph a sympathetic smile, Christina knelt in front of him, Gracie at her side. “If I promise not to touch it, would you hold your hand out for me to see?”

“Y-you promise?” He started to extend his hand, then jerked it back. “You can’t let Omi touch it, either.”

“Absolutely not. What if Omi and I both tuck our hands into our back pockets? Will you show us then?”

Joseph thought a moment, then nodded. He opened his left hand to reveal an ugly splinter embedded deep into his grime-covered palm. If they didn’t get the splinter out and clean the wound, infection was sure to follow.

“Wow, that’s pretty nasty,” Christina murmured. She skewed her lips. “Hmm, seems to me you have two choices.”

He looked up with a worried frown.

“Well, if you don’t let Omi pull out the splinter and clean up your hand, you might have to go to the doctor for a shot.”

Joseph gasped and tucked the injured hand beneath his other arm. “No shots!”

Marie patted the boy’s shoulder. “Christina’s right, I’m afraid. Please, Joseph—”

“But it’ll hurt!”

“I have an idea,” Christina said. “Whenever I’m scared or worried or hurting, I just hug on Gracie, and pretty soon I feel better. I bet she’d let you pet her while Omi takes care of your hand.”

Swallowing, Joseph cast the dog a leery glance, then studied his palm. It seemed forever before he finally whispered, “Okay, I’ll try.”

With an inner sigh of gratitude, Christina rose and led Gracie around to Joseph’s right side. “Now, then, you keep all your attention on Gracie and don’t pay any mind to what Omi’s doing.”

She nodded at Marie, who stood ready with an alcohol-sterilized sewing needle and tweezers. Marie pulled a chair closer and sat down, then gently placed Joseph’s injured hand on her lap. While Christina talked softly to the boy and had him stroke Gracie’s soft fur, Marie quickly and efficiently plucked out the splinter.

Joseph looked around in surprise. “It’s out?”

“Sure is!” Marie held up the wood fragment for him to see.

“It’s...so big!” He grinned up at Christina. “And I didn’t feel a thing.”

She tousled his hair. “Thank Gracie. She’s the best, isn’t she?”

Marie stood. “Now we need to get you washed up and put some antibiotic ointment on your hand.”

Joseph turned to Christina. “Can Gracie come, too?”

“Of course.”

The three of them, plus Gracie, traipsed down the hall to the bathroom. After Marie finished treating the wound, they returned to the kitchen as Seth and Eva came in the back door.

At the sight of Gracie, Eva shrieked and leaped into Seth’s arms. Shielding his little girl, Seth glowered at Christina.

This time she refused to be intimidated. “I’m sorry for scaring Eva, but my dog just saved your son from an infected wound.”

Doubt clouding his eyes, Seth looked from Christina to his grandmother. “You got the splinter out?”

“We did.” Marie patted Gracie’s head. “Couldn’t have done it without this sweet thing.”

Now they had Eva’s attention. Still clinging to her father’s neck, she peeked down at Gracie, then shot her brother a worried frown.

“It’s true, Eva,” Joseph said. “I petted the dog the whole time Omi fixed my hand and it didn’t hardly hurt at all!”

Marie reached for Eva. “Come on, sweetie, and I’ll fix you kids some chocolate milk.” Balancing the little girl on her hip, she raised a brow in Seth’s direction. “Why don’t you take Christina down to the picnic area and y’all can start setting up for tonight’s barbecue.”

Seth’s expression said spending time with Christina was the last thing he cared to do, but he didn’t argue. With a deferential nod, he extended one arm toward the back door. “After you.”

* * *

Leave it to his grandmother to put him in yet another awkward position. Seth would have liked a little more time to accept the notion that Christina’s dog had actually proved helpful. Although Joseph’s surprisingly sunny attitude made it pretty clear.

In the barn earlier, when Seth first heard his son’s yelp of pain, he’d tried to remove the splinter himself.

“No! Let Omi do it!” Joseph had screamed.

Seth had sent him on to the house, hoping his grandmother would get the deed done before Seth finished his barn chores and caught up. Times like these were when the kids most needed a mother’s gentle touch. Omi was the next best thing, but Seth knew his son well enough to realize even Omi would have her hands full in this situation.

He cast a sidelong glance at the woman walking beside him. The words thank you sat on the tip of his tongue, but stubbornness prevented him from forcing them out.

Halfway to the lakeside picnic area, Christina broke the silence. “What exactly do we need to do out here?”

Halting in his tracks, Seth slapped a palm against his forehead and groaned. “It would help if I’d remembered to get the picnic supplies from the storeroom.”

“I was wondering...” She offered a pert grin, and Seth figured he should be glad that was the worst of it.

“You can wait here if you want. Won’t take me long.”

“No, I’ll help. I need to know where to find things.”

“Suit yourself.” Seth pivoted and strode toward the garage. He didn’t look back to see if Christina followed, but the soft crunch of sneakers and dog paws on the gravel drive told him she wasn’t far behind.

Rounding the garage, he stopped at the storeroom door and fumbled in his pockets.

“Something wrong?” Christina asked.

“Don’t have my keys with me.”

“Allow me.” Nudging him aside, Christina used her set of housekeeping keys to unlock the door. She pushed it open, then mimicked his earlier gallantry to motion him inside.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

She tilted her head, one brow arched accusingly. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

With a roll of his eyes, Seth released a weak chuckle. “I deserved that. So let me try again. Thanks for getting the door. And thanks for helping get Joseph’s splinter out.”

“You’re welcome. Now, where are those picnic supplies?”

A few minutes later, Seth had loaded three plastic crates and some cleaning supplies onto a utility wagon. Once again, they started for the lake, and this time the tension between them wasn’t quite so thick. At the picnic area, the dog stretched out in the grass while Seth and Christina began wiping down tables and benches. Then Seth unfolded a blue gingham tablecloth. He took one end and handed Christina the other, and together they smoothed it across the first table. Seth found a container of specially made clips, which they used to secure the cloth in place.

The breeze shifted, and Christina paused to sniff the air. “Something smells wonderful!”

“That’d be the brisket Opi’s smoking. Best in Texas, if you ask me.”

“We have pretty good barbecue in Arkansas, too.”

Seth scoffed as he shook out another tablecloth. “Only because of the Texans who moved there. And I bet y’all don’t have sauce as good as what my grandmother makes.”

Fastening down her side of the cloth, Christina winked. “Don’t tell me—it’s a secret family recipe.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Seth’s hand brushed hers as he smoothed out a wrinkle, and he felt the tingle all the way to his knees. He quickly straightened, clearing his throat. “I should get back. I need to gather some wood for the fire pit.”

“Oh. Okay.” Did she sound a little bit disappointed? “Anything else I need to do here?”

“One of the crates has some table decorations. Candles and globes, flowers, greenery. You’ll do better with those than I would.”

Christina slanted him a teasing look of disdain. “Why? Because I’m a girl?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to see the mess I’d make trying to put a centerpiece together.”

“If you say so.” Christina turned to peer inside one of the crates. She pulled out a handful of artificial bluebonnets and a box of candles. “What should I do with all this stuff when I finish?”

“I’ll bring the wagon back with the firewood and then haul the crates to the storeroom.” Hands on hips, he glanced around. “You’ll probably be done before then, so just leave everything where it is.”

As he turned to go, Christina called out to him. “Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

His forehead bunched. “For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

A fresh wave of guilt swept through him. “I haven’t been real good about it so far, have I?”

“No, but I understand why now. And I’m in no position to judge.”

Seth cringed as his grandmother’s admonition came back to bite him. “I’m sure not, either.” He paused while a beefy aroma drifted his way on the morning breeze. He had plenty of other things to do, but for some crazy reason he couldn’t seem to get his feet moving. Pointing to the bluebonnet sprigs Christina was attempting to arrange around a candle globe, he said, “It works better if you use one of those Styrofoam thingies.”

Christina looked up with an arched brow. “And you said you didn’t know anything about centerpieces.” Her expression softened into an endearing smile. “So will you give me a hand? Because I’m really not the artsy-craftsy type.”

He opened his mouth to say yes, then snapped it shut. This was so not happening. Not again. Against his will, memories of Georgia crept in. He’d fallen for her during their junior year at Texas A&M, lured by crystal-blue eyes, silky blond hair and an invitation to help her stuff envelopes for a sorority fund-raiser she was heading up. Eight months later, they were married.

Eight years later, he’d found himself standing at his ex-wife’s graveside and wondering how it had come to this. Wondering how he’d ever explain to his kids why they’d never see their mother again.

No, they’d had enough heartache in their short lives. Seth had experienced more than his share, too. He wouldn’t risk letting another woman slip through the chinks in his armor.

“Whatever you do will be fine,” he muttered.

Without a backward glance, he marched to the house. About time to check on his kids. Eva never liked him out of her sight for long and was probably pestering Omi about going to find her daddy right now.

He walked into the kitchen to a very different scene. While his grandmother stood at the counter chopping vegetables, Joseph and Eva perched on barstools and nibbled string cheese. Engrossed in her brother’s recounting of his splinter experience and “Miss Christina’s amazing doggy,” Eva hardly acknowledged Seth’s arrival.

The realization that he hadn’t been missed—and the reason why—cut deep. For the space of a nanosecond, he forgot how to breathe.

“Hey, Seth.” Omi’s cheery greeting snapped him out of it. “How’s it going with the picnic setup?”

“Fine. Christina’s putting the centerpieces together.”

“So what are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be helping?”

He swiped a carrot stick and bit off a piece, then chewed with a vengeance so he wouldn’t have to answer right away. “She’s managing,” he mumbled over a mouthful, then grabbed a slice of zucchini.

Omi slapped his hand. “Those are for the barbecue tonight. And you shouldn’t have left her on her own. She’s still learning how we do things around here.”

“Seems plenty capable to me.” He wouldn’t mention Christina’s lopsided fake-bluebonnet arrangement.

The chopping knife came down hard on an unsuspecting green pepper. “Seth Jacob Austin, if you aren’t the biggest scaredy-cat I ever did see.”

He wouldn’t deny it. Because he couldn’t. So he didn’t say anything, just spun on his heel and walked out.

* * *

Christina adjusted the greenery around a glass hurricane shade. She’d tried to tell Seth this wasn’t her area of expertise, and now everyone at Serenity Hills Guest Ranch would realize it, too. With a groan of futility, she gathered up the leftover centerpiece materials and packed them into a crate.

Peering up the sloping path, she looked for signs of Seth’s return. He’d stormed off so fast that he’d forgotten to take the utility wagon with him. Christina wondered when, or if, he’d return with his load of firewood and then help her get these crates back to the storeroom.

“Guess we’re on our own, Gracie.” Gripping the wagon handle, Christina dug deep for the strength to tow the unwieldy contraption up the hill.

By the time she reached the storeroom, her back and shoulders ached and her left hip was cramping again. She moved one of the crates to the floor and sank onto it while she waited for the ache to subside.

Bryan Peterson appeared in the doorway, a concerned frown creasing his weathered face. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Just taking a short break.” Christina tried to smile as she massaged her hip. “Is there anything else you need me to do right now?” Please say no.

“We’re in good shape. Marie might need a hand in the kitchen later, though. She’s cookin’ up a storm for the barbecue.”

“I’ve been smelling the brisket all morning.” Christina’s stomach underscored her remark with a loud growl.

Bryan guffawed. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” He ambled over to a shelf and poked around. “Say, that dog of yours sure made a hit with Joseph. Just came from the house, and he had to tell me all about how Gracie kept him from being scared while Omi doctored his hand.”

Christina’s chest warmed. She bent to give Gracie a hug around the neck and inhaled the comforting, musky-sweet scent of dog fur. “She’s sure been a blessing to me.”

Tugging a flat, oblong box from the shelf, Bryan asked, “How long have you had her?”

“Ever since I got out of rehab after the accident.” Glancing away, Christina exhaled slowly as the memories resurfaced. “For a while, I was terrified to even ride in a car, much less drive again. But with Gracie beside me...somehow she keeps the fear at bay.”

“Interesting. Sorry to say I didn’t know much about service dogs for your kind of trauma before Marie explained how Gracie helps you.” Lips skewed, Bryan looked toward the open door. “I worry about Seth’s kids. Worry about him, too.”

“That’s understandable.” Christina hesitated. “I guess you know in my former life I was a social worker. My specialty was children and families.”

“Yeah, Marie mentioned it was on your job application.” A nervous look flickered behind his eyes. “Best you don’t bring it up around Seth, though. He’s not too keen on social workers.”

“Really? Why?” Christina couldn’t fathom why any parent with kids as emotionally wounded as Seth’s would refuse whatever help he could find.

“Long story,” Bryan said with a sigh, “and I probably shouldn’t be telling it, but since Seth won’t talk about it, seems somebody ought to.”

He set down his box, pulled over a step stool and plopped down. Speaking in hushed tones, and with repeated glances toward the door, he described how Georgia Austin’s career had taken off and she’d urged Seth to move the family to Minneapolis. He’d refused, insisting their home was here in Juniper Bluff, and if she truly loved him and the kids, she wouldn’t need a fancy job in a big city to feel complete.

“Seth fought long and hard to save his marriage,” Bryan went on. “Fought even harder for custody of those kids. Then Georgia got sick, and that’s when a social worker stepped in. She convinced Georgia the kids would be better off with Georgia’s sister and her husband, who had a nice home in Tulsa and boy-and-girl twins a couple years older than Joseph.”

“A ready-made family,” Christina acknowledged with a nod.

“Exactly. A far sight better, in her opinion, than placing the kids with an angry, broken single dad and his aging grandparents on a barely-making-it guest ranch.”

“Obviously, Seth won.”

Bryan’s mouth hardened. “Almost didn’t. Between the social worker and the high-powered lawyers Georgia’s family hired, he had the fight of his life.” Groaning, he pushed to his feet and hefted the box he’d come for. With a kindly but pointed glance at Christina, he stated, “So, like I said, best not mention the social worker thing around Seth.”

Left alone in the storeroom, she massaged her hip while pondering everything she’d learned about this troubled family in the three short days since her arrival. Her initial thoughts about God’s having brought her here for a reason now gave way to doubt, because she suspected Seth would never be open to the kind of help she’d been trained to give.

For all the good her training had done her personally. The adage physician, heal thyself played through her mind. A master’s degree and four years’ on-the-job experience hadn’t prepared her for the aftermath of the accident that nearly cost her life—and not only hers but that of the innocent child in her care.

A stabbing pain arced through her skull. Even with both fists pressed to her temples, she couldn’t halt the parade of images behind her eyelids, or the voices screaming in her head.

“I’m taking Haley to the hospital, Mr. Vernon. Please don’t try to stop me. The police are on their way.”

“She’s my kid! You got no right to lay a hand on her!”

But the brute of a man already had, and more than once, judging from the blood and bruises. As Christina carried the sobbing child toward the car, the ominous click of a shotgun hurried her steps. She’d barely gotten Haley buckled into a child safety seat when the first blast from the gun rang in her ears.

Before the second shot, she was behind the wheel, gunning the engine and barreling down the potholed lane.

She never even saw the loaded dump truck bearing down on them, only heard the scream of the horn, her own terrified shriek, and the crunch of collapsing metal and shattering glass before everything went black.

At Gracie’s whimpers and insistent nudges, Christina wrapped her trembling arms around the dog’s neck. Without the strength to stand, much less get herself to her cabin, she could do nothing more than hold on and wait—pray!—for the memories to pass. As she had every moment of her life since that day, she thanked God that little Haley Vernon had suffered only a broken arm as a result of the crash. The child now resided with a loving aunt and uncle in South Carolina, safely beyond her abusive father’s reach.

From somewhere far away, a man’s voice penetrated. “Christina, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

She lifted her head and met Seth’s worried gaze. Ignoring the high-pitched hum in her ears, she dredged deep for what little control she could muster. “I’m...fine. A dizzy spell, that’s all. I—I think I’m dehydrated.”

Before she could blink twice, a bottle of water appeared in Seth’s hand—where it came from, she had no idea. Kneeling in front of her, he unscrewed the top and helped her tip the bottle to her lips. “Better? Honestly, you don’t look so good.”

The kind and gentle Seth was back, but much as she appreciated this side of him, right now she’d have preferred a little more gruffness. If he were any nicer to her, she’d melt into a soggy puddle of tears. With great care, she forced herself to stand. “Really, I’m okay. I just need to lie down for a while.”

“And eat something. It’s past noon.” He tucked a steadying hand at her elbow, which was a good thing because her legs felt like overcooked noodles. “I’m sorry I left you by yourself earlier. Let me walk you to your cabin.”

If she refused, he might end up scraping her off the path and towing her to the cabin in his utility wagon. To keep her dignity intact, she muttered a terse “Okay, thanks,” and hoped he didn’t notice how heavily she leaned on him. “Let’s go, Gracie.”


Chapter Four (#uf1bd94ff-3366-537e-90ea-f535d8d1ca51)

For Seth, the reunion weekend went by in a blur. What with serving barbecue, leading trail rides, and acting as lifeguard for lake swimmers and kayakers—plus making sure to give his kids plenty of attention—he had little time to dwell on what had happened with Christina. He tried to be polite whenever they crossed paths in the course of their ranch duties, but after her meltdown on Friday, she seemed even more uncomfortable around him than before.

Seth had to admire the woman’s work ethic, though. She’d toiled as hard as any of them, keeping the guest cabins in top-notch order and helping Omi with meal preparation and anything else that needed doing. Christina had proved herself a reliable employee and a master of efficiency, and since this was admittedly her first job as a maid, Seth couldn’t help wondering what she’d done previously. Since Omi wasn’t forthcoming, maybe one of these days he’d sneak a peek at Christina’s personnel file.

The last of the reunion attendees left late Sunday afternoon, and by Tuesday morning the post-weekend cleanup was complete and Serenity Hills lay in restful silence befitting its name. While his kids slept, Seth carried his first cup of coffee out to the porch swing, where he could savor a melon-colored dawn as the sun crept over the barn roof. This was his favorite time of day, a few precious moments to himself before tackling the never-ending ranch work. He loved it, though. Loved the clean air with a hint of cedar on the breeze, loved spending time with the horses, loved watching the stress of city life slowly slip from the ranch guests’ shoulders as they basked in country hospitality.





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