Книга - The Cowboy’s Double Trouble

The Cowboy's Double Trouble
Judy Duarte


NANNY TO THE RESCUE!Braden Rayburn takes his responsibilities seriously. So how’s he supposed to run his newly inherited ranch while being an interim father to his orphaned half-siblings, who don’t speak a word of English? Especially since the onetime pro-rodeo rider knows absolutely nada about raising a family. Lucky for him, he just met the beautiful answer to his prayers.The high-energy boy and girl twins had Elena Ramirez at “hola.” But being a nanny—even a temporary one–at Braden’s Texas ranch wasn’t on the bilingual Brighton Valley native's career path, even if her attraction to the kids’ gorgeous guardian is mutual. Elena’s big-city dreams don’t include falling for a footloose cowboy. Or is the Rayburn rancher already the perfect family man?







Braden leaned toward her.

The very moment he touched her skin, her breath caught and her heart fluttered to a stop.

As her pulse scrambled to make up for the lost beat, Elena couldn’t take her eyes off him. Why was that? You’d think she didn’t trust him, but the truth was, right this very minute, she didn’t trust herself.

She ran her tongue around her lips, hoping to lick off whatever sweet, sticky mess she’d left there. Yet, as she did, their gazes zeroed in on each other once again, and her hormones spiked. A jillion silent words seemed to swirl around them, yet neither of them uttered a single one out loud.

This was so not good. Not good at all.

Could she last the three weeks?

* * *

Brighton Valley Cowboys: This Texas family is looking for love in all the right places!


The Cowboy’s

Double Trouble

Judy Duarte






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


Since 2002, USA TODAY bestselling author JUDY DUARTE has written over forty books for Mills & Boon Cherish, earned two RITA


Award nominations, won two Maggie


Awards and received a National Readers’ Choice Award. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she enjoys traveling with her husband and spending quality time with her grandchildren. You can learn more about Judy and her books at her website, www.judyduarte.com (http://www.judyduarte.com), or at Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist (http://www.facebook.com/judyduartenovelist).


To my critique partners, Crystal Green and Sheri WhiteFeather. Can you believe we’re celebrating our twentieth anniversary this year?

I have no idea where I’d be without you, your story skills—or, more importantly, your friendship.

I love you, guys!


Contents

Cover (#u108ced3b-b79c-5d17-9d9a-ddffba5003a3)

Introduction (#u6ded8f0b-a4c0-5d34-9333-f363f45a79a2)

Title Page (#u4320d9a1-5038-5813-b74c-1daf73803b49)

About the Author (#ua77a73f7-5674-566e-b2b1-c195b73644ed)

Dedication (#u7dc360f4-9532-5822-9141-c14dbcd6026c)

Chapter One (#ulink_4124b920-3205-50d2-a9ba-6b1836b400f0)

Chapter Two (#ulink_31e9a94f-9c90-5aa8-899a-037678361678)

Chapter Three (#ulink_e5239bad-7b52-5db2-b41f-fac10c075d10)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_44e400f0-9c0a-5b0e-9175-7805e5e16969)

A snarl, a hiss and a cat’s frantic “meeee-owww” shattered the silence in the barn.

Braden Rayburn turned away from the stall of the broodmare that was ready to foal and spotted six-year-old Alberto climbing up the wooden ladder to the hayloft while juggling a squirming orange tabby in his arms. The boy had found the small stray earlier this morning, but clearly, the cat wasn’t up for an adventure.

“No!” Braden called out, hoping to stop an accident ready to happen before any blood could be spilled. “Alberto! Put it down.”

The small boy turned at the sound of his name and froze on the third rung, but he continued to hold the cat. He undoubtedly understood the word no, but that was it.

Alberto—or “Beto,” as his twin sister called him—didn’t speak English. And Braden’s Spanish was limited to a few words, mostly isolated nouns.

“Put the...” Braden blew out a ragged sigh and tried to remember how to say cat in Spanish. “Put the gato down. It’s going to scratch the living daylights out of you.” From the tone of his voice, his frustration was coming through loud and clear.

Fortunately, Beto seemed to finally understand and climbed down. Still he held the poor critter that didn’t appear to be the least bit relieved by their descent, so a bite or a scratch was imminent.

“Let the gato go.” Braden used his hands in his own form of sign language and motioned as he added, “Down.”

Reluctantly, the boy released the cat. But the frown on his face indicated he wasn’t happy about doing so.

“Where’s your sister?” Braden asked. Then, attempting to bridge the language barrier, he added, “Bela? Dónde?”

The boy pointed to the corner of the barn, where his twin sat, holding a black cat, undoubtedly the tabby’s littermate.

What was wrong with people who dropped off their unwanted animals near a ranch, assuming the owner would be grateful to take in another critter to feed?

Having grown up on this horse ranch near Brighton Valley, Braden was all too familiar with what ranchers like him and his late grandpa had to put up with.

Ironically, he thought about the twins and how they’d ended up with him, and he slowly shook his head. Not that he couldn’t afford them or didn’t care about their emotional well-being, but he was completely out of his league when it came to dealing with young children, especially when there was a serious communication problem. But then again, the twins had been raised in Mexico, so the language barrier was to be expected.

He glanced at the boy and girl, who were now sitting together with the stray cats and jabbering a mile a minute, although Braden had no idea what they were saying. He wished he did, though. And that he could talk to them, explain how sorry he was that their parents had died.

Three months ago, Braden hadn’t known they’d been living in a Mexican orphanage—or that they’d even existed. But once he and his half siblings had found them, the older Rayburns had decided to bring them back to the States and provide them with a home.

Now, two weeks later, here they were in Texas. They’d been staying in Houston with Jason, Braden’s older half brother. But Jason and his wife were now on a business trip in Europe, while sister Carly was on a cruise with her new husband’s family. So the only one left to look after them was Braden.

He’d like to reassure them that they were with family now, but he was limited to pointing, miming and, when his memory of high school flashcards came through for him, uttering a Spanish word or two.

Yet in spite of the struggle to communicate and more than a twenty-year age difference, the kids running around his barn and chasing a couple of cats had something in common with him and his half siblings.

They all had the same father.

Wasn’t that just like their old man to have a second family in another country? Charles Rayburn may have been a successful businessman with a net worth of nearly a billion dollars, but he’d been a real failure when it came to making any kind of lasting commitment to a woman.

When Jason headed to the airport with his wife, he left Braden in charge of the six-year-olds. And then he’d driven off like the guy who’d dropped off the two stray cats.

Okay, so it wasn’t the same thing. Beto and Bela were family. And there was no way Braden would want them to be taken in by strangers, although that’s what they were. And if the twins didn’t pick up English quickly, they’d never really get to know each other.

Still, even though Braden had agreed to keep the kids until Jason returned, he’d panicked at the thought of being left in charge of his newfound little brother and sister. What if he failed them—like his... Well, his father hadn’t exactly deserted him. He’d come through with the child support and money for braces, swim lessons or summer camp. But Charles Rayburn had been so caught up with his business ventures that he’d never attended a school play, a football game or even a graduation.

To make matters worse, Braden had never been close with the two half siblings he’d known about for practically all of his twenty-eight years. So he’d always felt like the odd man out, especially since his dad hadn’t even married his mom.

And now there were two more Rayburns to get to know, and Braden didn’t have any idea where he should start.

Heck, even if he and the kids spoke the same language, having Beto and Bela with him for the next three weeks was going to be a real challenge.

But he had a plan. Once Jason and his new bride returned from that business trip, Braden was going to suggest that the twins live permanently with them. After all, kids their age would be better off with a married couple. And the fact that Juliana would be having a baby soon made it all the better.

And if that didn’t work out, his half sister, Carly, had just gotten married, too, and would return about the same time Jason did. She was also pregnant, so there was another opportunity for the twins to join a real family.

In the meantime, the poor kids were stuck with him. Only trouble was, he needed to focus on running the ranch he’d just inherited from his grandpa Miller. Unlike his wealthy and womanizing father, Braden took his family responsibilities seriously.

But how in the hell was he going to get any work done while they were here? Babysitting was turning out to be a full-time job—and one he hadn’t been prepared for. He’d been raised on the Bar M as an only child, so he didn’t have any experience with kids. He’d do his best to do right by them, of course. But these two, as cute as they were, would be much happier with someone else—preferably someone who could communicate with them.

If they were in school, it would be easier. But it was still summer.

Maybe he should hire a nanny to look after them so he could get some work done.

The more he thought about that idea, the better it sounded. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where to begin to find someone qualified. And that was crucial. The woman who’d looked after the twins in Mexico had proven to be cold and rigid. As willing as he was to pass their care on to someone else, he had to be careful.

The poor little orphans had been through enough already, and he was dead set on making sure they were well cared for—and loved. They definitely deserved someone more qualified than a bachelor who was more comfortable around horses and barbed wire than around people, especially those who bore the Rayburn name.

“No!” Beto called out. “Vengan gatitos!”

Braden turned toward the child’s voice, just as the two cats dashed out of the barn, the little boy and girl in hot pursuit. He didn’t blame the animals for running off.

Hell, he’d only had the kids for three days and he had half a notion to run away himself.

* * *

Elena Ramirez unlocked the front door of Lone Star Hay and Grain, then set about to welcome the first customers of the day.

She’d already checked on the baby ducks and chicks that were for sale, as well as the rabbits. Her dad was running a special on the small animals this week, so she wanted to make sure the coops and pens, which she’d put on display near the front door and by the register, were clean and that the food and water had been replenished.

Elena had shopkeeping in her blood, and she knew all the best sales strategies. But recently, the merchandise she sold was the kind to grace the covers of fashion magazines instead of agricultural catalogs.

Now, as she studied her father’s store, she realized not much had changed in the years since he’d bought it, something she intended to remedy while she was here.

She’d been a senior in high school at the time her father purchased the store and moved the family to Brighton Valley. She hadn’t been happy about leaving all her old friends and making new ones, but she was glad her dad finally had the opportunity to be in business for himself. He’d been one of eight children and the first to no longer have to work for someone else.

Taking over a floundering feed store had been tough for him in the beginning. There hadn’t been enough money coming in to hire an assistant, so Elena had worked with him after class each day and on the weekends. By the time she’d gone off to college in Austin that next fall, he’d finally been able to afford to pay an hourly employee.

On the upside, Elena’s retail experience had enabled her to get a job at a dress shop near the university, where she usually had the highest commission of all the other sales associates.

In fact, when she’d graduated in May, she’d continued working in Austin, but between her student loan payments and the cost of rent and utilities, life had eaten into her earnings. Since she had plans to open a store of her own one day soon, one that specialized in trendy fashions and quirky, unusual items, she’d moved back to Brighton Valley until she could sock away some money.

Working at the feed store felt like a step backward, but Papa was so happy to have her home again that she didn’t mind.

“I missed my little girl,” he’d said when he helped her carry her suitcases into the house.

She knew her absence bothered him, but since she was the oldest of his children by seven years, and with six younger siblings, there were still plenty of little ones in the house.

She stopped by the small display pen that held baby ducks, picked up the smallest one and rubbed its soft down against her cheek. Then, after she set it loose again, she brushed off her hands on her oldest pair of jeans.

All of her good clothes—the ones she wore for her old job—were still in a suitcase under the bunk bed she was sharing with her twelve-year-old half sister. She arched her back, thinking of the small twin-size mattress that was much firmer than the one she’d been used to.

While she didn’t mind coming home to help out her family and save money, she definitely missed living on her own in the city.

The first twelve years of her life, she’d been raised by her mother as an only child, so it was only natural for her to enjoy her solitude.

When her mom died, she moved in with her dad and stepmom full-time. She’d tried to help whenever she was needed, and before long, she was babysitting, cleaning up spills and wiping tears.

These days, she often had to referee fights. She loved her siblings, she truly did. But she’d enjoyed getting away from them, too.

A truck engine sounded outside, announcing that their first customer of the day had arrived. She secured the hair clip that held the thick, dark mass of curls away from her face, neck and shoulders while she worked.

Moments later, a man and two children entered the store. The kids both appeared to be Hispanic and didn’t resemble the blond-haired cowboy in the least. So her interest was immediately piqued.

When the little boy noticed the rabbits on display, he immediately brightened. “Conejitos! Bela, mira!”

The girl—his sister, Elena guessed—hurried to his side, and they each found a bunny to pet.

Elena turned to the fair-haired cowboy, who stood about six foot one. When he noticed her, a pair of dazzling green eyes locked on to hers and sent her heart rate on a mad scamper to find a normal pace.

Too handsome for a local cowboy was the first thought that came to her mind.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Not unless you run a day care center out back.”

Elena laughed. “Only when my mom brings my younger brothers and sisters by the store. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged a single shoulder. “Just my attempt to find humor in a sticky situation.”

She lifted a brow, and he slid her an easy grin.

“I’m looking after these kids for my brother,” he said, “and they don’t speak English. So I’m in a real fix when it comes to communicating with them. I’m doing my best, but I have to find a bilingual nanny—like yesterday.”

Elena felt a tug on her sleeve. When she glanced down, the little girl with large brown eyes and lopsided pigtails pointed to the rear of the store, where the boy had wandered over to a display of straw cowboy hats. He’d apparently knocked several to the floor.

“Sorry about that,” the handsome cowboy said. “I’ll get those picked up.”

“Don’t give it a second thought.” Elena strolled to the table display and smiled at the boy. “No es problema, mijo.” She helped him restack the hats, then took one and placed it on his head. In Spanish, she asked if he wanted to be a cowboy.

He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth, and nodded, the oversize hat flopping forward and back. “Si, yo quiero ser un vaquero como Señor Braden.”

So he admired “Senor Braden” and wanted a hat like his. She glanced at the fair-haired cowboy, then back at the boy, who was pointing to the man. Then it clicked.

“Now I know why you looked familiar,” she said. “You’re Braden Rayburn. Your great-grandmother owned a ranch near here.”

“Yes, and my maternal grandpa owned... Well, I now own the Bar M.”

“I was sorry to hear about your grandfather’s passing,” she said. “My dad told me that he attended his celebration of life. I’m afraid I was still in Austin at the time.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t recognize you. But then again, my grandpa was the one who always picked up supplies or had them delivered. After my rodeo days, I spent most of my time on the ranch.”

She reached out her arm in greeting. “I’m Elena Ramirez, Paco’s daughter.”

He took her hand in his, enveloping her in a warm, calloused grip that sent her senses reeling. “No kidding? I knew Paco had a lot of kids, but I had no idea that he...” His voice trailed off, but she knew what he’d been about to say. He hadn’t realized Elena was one of them. Well, that’s not a surprise. She found it difficult to believe at times, too.

“I’ve been away at college,” she said. “And for the past four years I haven’t been back to Brighton Valley as often as I should have.”

Before either of them could speak, the boy walked up carrying a black and white bunny. “Perdona me, señorita. Quanto dinero por el conejito?”

She smiled at the little guy and said, “Cinco dolares.”

“Did he want to know how much the rabbits cost?” Braden asked.

Elena nodded. “I told him five dollars. But you’re in luck. We’re running a sale this week. They’re two for eight.”

Braden put up the hand that had once gripped hers to motion a halt. “Sorry, but no way. I have two children more than I can handle as it is—not to mention a couple of stray cats they found this morning.”

She glanced at the kids, who’d returned to the rabbit cage, clearly enamored. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? Look at them.”

“I’m tempted—but only because Beto has managed to stay out of trouble for five minutes.”

She smiled. “Actually, my brothers and sisters have pets. It teaches them responsibility.”

“What did you major in at college?” Braden asked. “Child psychology?”

She laughed. “Business, actually, with a minor in art.”

His grin deepened, creating a pair of dimples in his cheeks, and his green eyes sparked. “You’ve got a talent for sales. I’d say it might be wasted at a small-town feed store.”

She felt the same way, although she’d never come out and tell her father that. He hoped she’d stay at home forever, but she had plans to make her mark in the world—and in a big city.

“I only plan to be here until the first of the year,” she said. “I’ve been saving money to eventually open up my own dress shop in Houston.”

His gaze swept over her, from her red Lone Star Hay and Grain T-shirt, to the faded blue jeans with a frayed hem, down to the old boots she wore, then back up again.

She tossed him a smile. “Believe it or not, when I’m not working here, I do have a bit of fashion sense.”

“I’m sure you do.” A boyish grin suggested he might have found her attractive in spite of her well-worn clothing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought, but she tamped it down. She wasn’t looking for a cowboy, especially one who was local. “As I was saying, the sale on small animals we’re running is actually advertised in the newspaper. It was my idea because those little critters can sure multiply if you aren’t careful.”

Braden chuckled. “It would serve my brother right if, when he returned, I gave him the kids as well as two rabbits.”

“I like the way you think.” Elena studied the handsome cowboy, who was tall and lean—broad shouldered, too.

From what she’d heard through the rumor mill, Braden Rayburn was one of the most eligible bachelors in town, and quite a few of the local ladies had him in their sights.

But looking at Braden in that Stetson and those Wranglers certainly could make a woman—well, maybe another woman—rethink her career path.

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Quiero dos conejos, por favor.”

Elena laughed. “It looks like Beto can afford to purchase rabbits for himself and his sister.”

“Where did he get the money?” Braden asked.

Elena turned to the child, first taking time to speak to him long enough for him to introduce his sister, Maribel, whom he called Bela.

She laughed at Beto’s animated explanation about how he received the cash, then interpreted for Braden. “He said he earned it—fair and square.”

“Is that a direct quote?”

“Not exactly. But it’s close enough. It seems that Beto here is quite the negotiator. He bartered a horned toad for the cash.”

“With whom?”

“Apparently, the nice man who brought him to the United States paid him to give up his new pet.”

“That would be my brother,” Braden said. “But Jason is a suit-and-tie sort of guy. What would he want with a horned toad?”

“My guess is that Jason paid Beto so he could take custody of it, then turn it loose, although that’s just an assumption. But from what I gathered, it seems that Beto’s horned toad nearly scared the bejeezus out of Jason’s wife. I have a feeling she may not have wanted to sleep in the same house with it.”

Elena glanced at the smiling six-year-old. When she returned her focus to their temporary guardian, Braden’s meadow-green gaze had already zeroed in on hers, the intensity making it difficult to breathe.

“I’d like to offer you a job,” he said.

“I already have one.”

“Whatever your father is paying you, I’ll double it if you can start today.”

She stiffened, not quite following his line of reasoning, but sensing where he was going with the offer. “Excuse me?”

“I need someone to help with child care for the next three weeks. And not just anyone. I need someone trustworthy who’s also bilingual.”

Elena stood up straight. “Are you out of your mind?”

Okay, so that came across a little harsher than she’d meant it to, but surely he wasn’t expecting her to be a...a babysitter. It already seemed like a huge move backward from big girl on campus and star sales associate to a feed-store clerk. But now this guy was suggesting she be a child-care provider?

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said.

She threw her shoulders back. “I didn’t graduate from college with a business degree so I could become a nanny. Besides, you don’t even know me. I could be an ax murderer.”

He swept a long gaze over her, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Nah. I’m a good judge of character. Besides, I know your parents. And they raise Girl Scouts, honor students and high school football stars.”

The guy had a down-home charm about him that could cause any determined woman to weaken, but Elena wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

“Let me sweeten the pot,” he said. “I’ll triple whatever you’re earning here.”

Was he dangling a carrot with no intention of following through? Who could afford to pay that kind of money for a sitter?

Of course, she hadn’t been home in years but she’d heard tales about the Rayburns. Rumor had it that all three of the half siblings had a sizable trust fund from their late father.

“I need someone with experience,” he added.

Elena crossed her arms. “Doing what? Wiping noses? Mopping up spilled milk? With six younger brothers and sisters, I can assure you that I’ve had more than enough experience doing that. Sorry, I’m not interested. There are other women I know, empty nesters who are also bilingual, who could help you.”

“But I want you.” A spark electrified the air around them as the possibilities of his statement arced between them. But she brushed aside any attraction she might feel for him.

“Sorry, nope.” He wasn’t going to turn her into a nanny. Nor could he put her in the uncomfortable position of telling her father she couldn’t help him any longer.

“Wait,” he said. “I’ve also been trying to digitize my grandfather’s old-fashioned accounting system on the Bar M. In the evenings, I could put you to work on the books and the filing system, and that way, you could help me modernize the ranch office.”

“I realize that I’m wearing cowboy boots and jeans, but don’t let the clothes fool you. I’m not looking for a position as a ranch accountant.”

“I just need you for three weeks, and I’ll make it well worth your time.”

“What happens in three weeks?”

“Both my brother and sister should be back in Texas by then, and since they’re both married now, one of them will be able to provide the kids with a loving, stable home.” His gaze met hers, and his expression was...pleading, desperate.

They both knew that she had him over the proverbial barrel. But she’d had her fill of babysitting. She glanced down at the kids in question. Not that they weren’t sweet or in need of someone who could speak their language.

“I’ll pay you four times whatever you’re earning now, plus a bonus for saying yes.”

Talk about dangling carrots. She was afraid he’d keep making offers, thinking he would eventually come up with one she couldn’t refuse. So she breezily said, “I’ll tell you what. Pay off my student loans, and I’ll do it.” That ought to get her point across and shut down the conversation quickly.

He hesitated only for a moment. “Deal.” Then he held out his hand for a shake.

“Really?” With what he was offering her, she’d be able to open that dress shop in time for the Christmas rush.

“Absolutely. I’d need you to live in, but you’d have a private room and bath. And it’s only for a couple of weeks.” He tilted his head and arched a brow, his arm still extended to her.

She slipped her hand in his and gave it a shake, just as a couple of quacks sounded and a duckling scurried between them, followed by another.

“When do you want me to start?” she asked.

He glanced at the runaway ducklings, then tossed her a crooked grin. “Is now too soon?”


Chapter Two (#ulink_c46d8452-49eb-51d2-a8b3-df056b70deff)

While the kids sat in the back of his crew-cab truck, cuddling their new rabbits and chattering to them in Spanish, Braden loaded the ranch supplies into the back. He’d just locked the tailgate when Paco Ramirez, the owner of the feed store, drove up in his white Chevy Tahoe.

Braden could say hello to the man and then take off and let Elena tell her father about the deal they’d just struck, but that hardly seemed fair. Besides, he wasn’t one to avoid conflict or to be rude to someone he normally did business with. So he headed over to Paco, who was just climbing out of his SUV, and extended his hand in greeting. “Hey, there. I hoped I’d see you this morning.”

“How’s that sprinkler system working out?” the older man asked.

“Great. That south pasture is looking pretty good now. Valley Ag Supply had it installed sooner than I expected.”

“Did you tell them I sent you?”

“I sure did. And they gave me a great deal. So thanks for the recommendation.”

“No problem,” Paco said. “When you’re ready to purchase those calves, I know a rancher about twenty miles north of Wexler who’s looking to sell.”

The older man might only be a small-town business owner, but he was a great source for referrals.

“Thanks,” Braden said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Grandpa Miller had raised rodeo horses until his passing, and while Braden would continue to do so, now that the ranch was his, he wanted to expand and run some cattle, too.

He’d never expected to become a rancher. In fact, he hadn’t had plans to do anything other than to ride rodeo, like his grandpa Miller had. But when his grandfather first became sick last year, Braden had come home to help his mother with the ranch. And now that the ranch had become his... Well, he’d sort of fallen into the lifestyle. Not that he minded. He’d been raised for it, he supposed. And while he had the money to do whatever he wanted in life, he didn’t flaunt it.

Paco glanced into the truck bed. “What have you got there?”

“Cages for the two rabbits I just purchased.”

The feed store owner chuckled. “I take it that you met my daughter Elena. She suggested we run a special on the small animals. Ever since she was seventeen and we had our grand opening, she’s been a great saleswoman.”

“Yeah, well, I have two kids staying with me for the time being, and when they saw the bunnies on display, Elena didn’t have to do much hard selling. Although, come to think of it, I hadn’t realized a sale on rabbits would turn out to be nearly a hundred-dollar investment in cages and food and whatnot.”

“That’s my girl.” Paco lifted his John Deere cap off his head and ran a hand through his thinning dark hair. “I’ll have to give her a raise.”

Here was the opening Braden needed. But how did he go about telling Paco that he’d stolen his best employee away from him? Braden might not have his older brother’s business acumen, but he prided himself on being a straight shooter and an honest negotiator.

He supposed there was no other way than to just come out and say it.

“I hate to tell you this,” Braden said, “but I just convinced your daughter to jump ship. I offered her a better position.”

Instead of showing disappointment or raising his hackles, a slow grin slid across the store owner’s face. “As much as I hate to lose her, she’s a bright girl. I’m sure she’ll be an asset to your family’s corporation.”

Braden had never had anything to do with Rayburn Enterprises, his father’s business. And he’d never even wanted to. It was Jason who ran the business now.

“Actually,” Braden said, “I asked her to come and stay at the Bar M and be a temporary nanny for the kids.”

Elena’s father stiffened, and his grin morphed into that frown Braden had been expecting to see a moment earlier.

Paco was a good man, a family man with strict, cultural values. He probably had qualms about his daughter moving in with a single man at the Bar M, even if everything was aboveboard.

“She’ll have her own room,” Braden added. “And it’s just a temporary position.”

“Not that she isn’t good with kids, but my girl has her head and her heart focused on her future and she’s not easily swayed by smooth talkers or macho cowboys. How’d you manage to talk her into that?”

He’d bribed her, that’s how. He’d tempted her with more money than she could earn from her father in three months and then agreed to pay off her student loans—without even asking how much they were. Yet while his method might have made Charles Rayburn proud, something told Braden it wasn’t going to sit well with Paco Ramirez.

“I’m in a real bind,” he admitted. “And it’s just for three weeks. The kids staying with me don’t speak English. And with my Spanish being practically nonexistent, I’d be hard-pressed to order a beer with my dinner in Laredo on a Saturday night. So I need someone to help me look after them until my brother gets back to Texas.”

Paco took a look into the truck. Hadn’t he noticed the kids before? Had he thought Braden was pulling his leg?

“What’s Jason going to do with the kids?” the older man asked.

“Become their legal guardian, I suspect. We...uh...” He glanced in the cab, noting that the windows were up. While he knew the twins wouldn’t understand him anyway, Jason hadn’t talked about their situation in front of them—and Braden wouldn’t, either. “Apparently, my father had a secret family in Mexico. Beto and Maribel are my little brother and sister. Jason brought them to Brighton Valley, and I’m looking after them until he and Juliana get home from their business trip in Europe.”

Paco merely looked at Braden in awkward silence, as if this new twist in his paternal family’s notorious dysfunction was somewhat expected. Braden himself was a Rayburn bastard. He was used to the pitying looks the good people of Brighton Valley passed along to the unorthodox and ever-expanding brood of Charles Rayburn’s offspring by multiple women. Really, it should be no surprise that Elena’s father was too polite to voice his disapproval at the scandal.

So then why did he clench his fist like he used to when he was back in grade school and the kids used to ask him why his daddy lived with another family?

Elena was an adult and could make her own decisions, but Braden didn’t feel quite right about the way he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Trouble was, he was so desperate, he’d be damned if he’d put too much thought to it. Otherwise, he might try to backpedal on that job offer. And then where would he be?

“Looking after the kids won’t be her only duty,” he added. “I’ve also asked her to modernize my grandfather’s old accounting system. If I’m going to run the ranch right, I’ll need to have everything digitalized. And she’ll be a big help with that.”

Paco seemed to think on that for a moment, then said, “Elena is a good girl.”

Braden wasn’t sure where he was going with that. Or why his expression had sobered. “Yes, sir. I’m sure that she is.”

“Just so you know, I had a good relationship with your grandmother, Rosabelle Rayburn. And I knew your father.”

Damn. Did he think that Braden was a chip off the old block? It was true that he might resemble Charles Rayburn, but that didn’t mean he’d inherited his father’s character flaws.

He just hoped Paco didn’t think this was a ploy for Braden to get his single daughter alone and seduce her. Maybe he feared that the fertile apple didn’t fall too far from the scandalous Rayburn tree.

“All I ask is that you be good to my daughter and treat her with respect,” the man said.

“You have my word.” Braden reached out and offered a handshake to seal the deal. He didn’t have any qualms about making a promise like that to Paco. Trouble was, the older man’s words had struck him to the quick.

The truth of the matter was, as hard as Braden had tried to emulate his grandpa Miller, he wasn’t entirely sure how much of Charles Rayburn’s genes he’d inherited.

* * *

By the time Elena arrived at the ranch, Braden had practically paced a furrow in the front yard deep enough to plant corn.

Okay, so he’d just kicked up a little trail dust. Still, she was a sight for sore eyes—and in more ways than one.

She drove a small blue Honda Civic—nothing out of the ordinary. But when he saw her climb out from behind the wheel, his pulse rate shot up as though she’d just blown in on the Texas wind, holding a magical umbrella and a black carpetbag containing a spoonful of sugar.

Thank goodness she was finally here.

But damn. She’d changed out of the snug jeans that had molded her shapely hips and now she wore a colorful gypsy-style skirt and bright red tank top. Her dark hair had been swept into a twist of some kind back at the feed store, but it now hung loose along her shoulders in a soft tumble of glossy curls.

What do you know? His Spanish-speaking Mary Poppins had morphed into a sexy Latina beauty.

How could a lovely woman become even more beautiful in a matter of hours? She’d said that she couldn’t come out to the ranch until afternoon, when her father finished making deliveries and could finally relieve her at the store, but it looked as if she’d spent the entire time fussing with her hair, makeup and outfit.

Not that he was complaining. She’d mentioned that she had fashion sense, but he’d had no idea just how true that statement was.

“Where are the kids?” she asked, as she reached into the trunk and pulled out a suitcase.

“They’re on the back porch, playing with their rabbits.” He probably should offer to carry in her things, but for the life of him, all he could do was stand in the middle of the yard and gape at her like a moonstruck teenager.

Get with it, man.

As she proceeded to the front porch, she asked, “Are you having buyer’s remorse?”

“No, I want you here.”

She laughed. “I didn’t mean me. I was referring to those bunnies.”

Of course she was. If he hadn’t been having a testosterone moment, he would have picked up on that immediately.

“No,” he said, “I’m not at all sorry about buying them.” He reached the screen door before she did and pulled it open for her. “In fact, I’m not even sorry that I let you talk me into buying two cages, watering receptacles and food dishes, not to mention five pounds of rabbit pellets and the shaved wood bedding you insisted they needed.”

She blessed him with a bright-eyed smile. “You could have gotten by with one large pen.”

“Yes, I could have,” he said, as she brushed by him into the living room, taunting him with a whiff of her exotic floral scent. “But it’s a known fact that rabbits multiply like crazy. And since neither of us knew how to tell the males from the females, purchasing two meant I could end up with more rabbits than horses on the Bar M.”

Her laugh had a magical lilt, making him again think of Mary Poppins until he took another look at her. There was no way anyone would confuse Elena Ramirez with a nanny. But that was okay with him. Just as long as she was bilingual and experienced with kids, she was going to work out fine.

“Is there someplace you’d like me to put my things?” she asked.

Yes, his bedroom. But he vanquished the inappropriate thought as quickly as it came to mind. He’d been gifted with an abundance of common sense, as well as self-control. And as long as Elena and the kids were staying on the ranch, he was going to need to exercise every bit of both.

He led her upstairs and down the hall to the guest room, which was across from the room he’d given Bela and Beto—and the farthest from his own.

“The kids have been happy and chattering up a storm ever since we got home,” he said, “although I really can’t make out what they’re saying.”

“I told you that pets were good for them. If they’ve been shuffled around a lot, the bunnies might give them a better sense of permanence—or at least security.”

“Yes, you did say that, and I’m sure there’s some truth to it, but I still think you were trying to sell some rabbits and all the paraphernalia that went with them.”

“You do realize,” she said, her caramel-colored eyes sparkling, “that my father has a return policy.”

He laughed. “And don’t think I’m not tempted to take advantage of it. But I don’t want to disappoint those kids. Besides, I need my peace and quiet. I’ve also been putting off chores since they arrived on Sunday, so I have a ton of work to do. And now that you’re here, I plan to get after it.”

She smiled. “Go right ahead. I’ll settle in; then I’ll find the kids. What do you have planned for their dinner tonight?”

“I...uh...” He shrugged. “Nothing in particular. But don’t worry. There’s plenty to choose from. I stocked up on a bunch of easy-to-fix, kid-friendly stuff at the market yesterday. So you have the option of hot dogs, mac and cheese, chicken tenders, pizza or frozen burritos.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

“Okay, I admit I like junk food. My mom usually did all the cooking when she was living at home, so I got my share of healthy stuff. Now that I do it myself, I make the things I like to eat. Don’t get me wrong. I like home cooking, but I can get that at Caroline’s Diner or when my mom invites me over.”

“Where is your mom?”

“She married her old high school boyfriend a couple of weeks ago and moved in with him. Erik—or rather, Dr. Chandler—has a medical office in town, and she’s going to be his receptionist.” It had all happened so fast, but Erik had been such a kind and loving support to her during her father’s illness that it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for them to have gotten back together. Braden just wished she would have invited him to Vegas when they’d tied the knot during a weekend trip. But then again, they’d apologized and said it had been a spontaneous decision.

He glanced at Elena, whose brow was furrowed. He got the feeling that she was probably a health nut, and he didn’t want to concern her or scare her off the very first day. “I actually like cooking, but I’d be willing to share kitchen duties—if you want them.”

“I like cooking, too. So I’ll trade off with you.”

“Sounds good to me. Feel free to take charge of the household—that is, if you want to. You can even go to the market and purchase anything you think the kids might need.” He reached into his front pocket, pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off a couple of hundred-dollar bills, handing them to her. “I had a feeling their visit was going to cost me. But that doesn’t matter.”

“I suppose it doesn’t. A Rayburn can pretty much pay for anything he wants and hire anyone he needs.”

Braden felt a trickle of heat steal up his neck. It was an easy assumption that all the negative Rayburn traits were passed down to him, yet he spent his whole life striving to live up to the more admirable qualities of the Miller side of his family.

Yet hadn’t he done just that today—paid for what he wanted?

He wouldn’t fault himself for it, though. He’d only gotten what he needed. Elena not only spoke Spanish, but she was experienced with kids. She was also a business major who could prove to be helpful in the home office—if she ever found any free time.

Bad thing was, she was gorgeous, which meant he’d have to keep his mind and his eyes to himself.

Still, she was the perfect solution to at least one of his more recent problems. And before he knew it, Jason would be back to take the kids off his hands.

It was going to cost him plenty, but he had a slew of money tucked away in that trust fund he rarely had need of. Besides, whatever it cost to get by as peacefully as possible for the next three weeks would be well worth it.

As Braden led Elena to the guest room, he couldn’t help but smile. The good old Rayburn business ingenuity had saved the day once again. Braden’s father would be proud of him.

Yet that realization raked over him like fingernails on a blackboard, causing his gut to twist and his conscience to rumble. Very early on, Braden had learned a simple truth that his father apparently never had. Money could buy just about anything but love.

* * *

Elena stood beside the guest bed and watched Braden head out the door and turn down the hall. It was difficult to imagine him as one of three heirs to a billion-dollar corporation, especially when he was clearly a rancher and dressed as a cowboy.

He was handsome, to be sure. Intriguing, too. A man to be studied, especially if she wanted to know what made him and his family tick. Not that she really needed to know anything about him or his siblings. Yet there seemed to be something vulnerable about him. She wasn’t quite sure where that suspicion had come from. Still, it niggled at her just the same.

As she unpacked her clothes, a task that wouldn’t take long, she thought about what her father had told her before she’d driven out to the Bar M.

Braden had grown up on his maternal grandfather’s ranch. Gerald Miller, a former rodeo cowboy who raised horses on the Bar M, had been well thought of in the community, just as Granny Rayburn, Braden’s paternal great-grandmother, had been.

On the other hand, his father hadn’t been able to escape country life soon enough and had rarely returned, even for a visit. From what Papa had said, Charles had gone to a private college in California and had quickly adapted to the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

Elena couldn’t help wondering about the family dynamics, especially since Papa had claimed Charles Rayburn had been a world-class womanizer—and had only been married to two of the four women who’d born his children. But she wasn’t being paid to figure out their dysfunction. She had a job to do, and she’d better get started.

After putting away the last of her lingerie in the top bureau drawer, she closed her suitcase and placed it in the closet. Then she made her way to the kitchen and out the mudroom to the back porch, where Bela and Beto were playing with their new pets.

Braden had been right. The kiddos appeared to be happy with their bunnies.

“Como se llaman los conejos?” she asked the kids.

Maribel grinned proudly and held up her brown bunny. “Oso.”

Elena smiled. Bear seemed like a funny name for a sweet, gentle rabbit. But the little girl obviously didn’t think so.

“El blanco es de mío,” Beto said, “se llama Cowboy.”

Hmm. He’d named his white bunny Cowboy, not Vaquero? Apparently, Braden had been teaching them English. She’d have to work on that, too. It would make things easier for the kids, especially if they were going to start school in the fall. What was the plan with these children anyway? Where would they go when their three-week stay was over?

But that was a question for their guardian, not the poor kids.

After they chatted for a while, she left them on the porch to take inventory in the kitchen. She checked the items Braden had stocked in the pantry, as well as the refrigerator and freezer.

In spite of nearly a case of macaroni and cheese, she found brown rice, pasta and canned vegetables. She even spotted spaghetti sauce.

There were two gallons of milk in the fridge, which she’d feared Braden might have neglected to stock up on. She saw juice, too. There were even a few fresh veggies in the crisper, although the green pepper and tomatoes looked as though they’d been there for a while.

Next, she swung open the freezer door and gasped when she saw all he’d crammed in there—personal size pizzas, frozen burritos, ice cream, Popsicles...

As she shuffled the boxes around, she found some ground beef. She might be able to pull off fixing a spaghetti dinner tonight, rather than a feast of junk food.

For a moment, a wave of rebellion washed over her. She hadn’t studied her butt off in both high school and college to become a babysitter or a short-order cook.

But then again, she’d accepted the nanny job. And if there was one thing to be said about her, when she made a commitment, she followed through with it.

She blew out a sigh. She wasn’t about to go shopping this late in the day, so it looked as though she’d have to make do with what she could find. And fortunately there was a well-stocked spice rack and quite a few canned goods.

Braden had said he didn’t know anything about kids, but by the stuff in his pantry, she suspected that, deep down, he might still be a kid at heart. That was good because it meant that he’d soon adapt to the change in his life and get used to having his little brother and sister around.

But it would be bad if he turned out to be some spoiled rich boy who thought he could boss her around or slack off on his duties thinking the poor help would gladly pull his weight. She didn’t care how good the cowboy looked in his Wranglers.

She returned to the back porch and explained to the children that they only had thirty minutes to play with their pets before it was time to put the bunnies back in the cages. Then they’d need to wash up for dinner.

Unlike her own brothers and sisters, at least one of whom surely would have had some kind of objection, Bela and Beto readily agreed.

With the start of a game plan in place, Elena returned to the kitchen and made a list for her trip to the market, including plenty of fresh fruits and veggies. She’d never wanted to be a chief cook and bottle washer, but if that was on her job description, she intended to be the very best one Braden Rayburn ever had.

* * *

By the time Braden finished up in the barn and headed for the house, dusk had settled over Brighton Valley. He was bone tired and hungry enough to eat a horse—not Chester, of course, who was practically family at the ripe old age of twenty-two. But his gut was grinding and growling to the point that he’d wolf down just about anything else.

He had no idea what Elena had planned for dinner—whether she’d cooked or if she wanted him to take them all to Caroline’s Diner. They hadn’t really talked about what her duties would be at the house. Maybe he should’ve laid out a better job description before hightailing it out to repair a corral this afternoon. Only trouble was, after lifting lumber and hammering nails for the past three hours, he didn’t feel like driving anywhere, especially with a truckload of kids.

Maybe he ought to suggest pizza. The frozen ones weren’t nearly as good as the ones he could have delivered, although neither could hold a candle to the ones made at Maestro’s. Either way, the kids probably wouldn’t complain.

As he made his way into the kitchen, he found Bela and Beto seated at the table, eating spaghetti with meat sauce that had chunks of tomato, zucchini, peppers and onion. They were so busy slurping up the noodles that they hardly looked up or even spoke to each other. But he couldn’t blame them. If the food tasted as good as it smelled and looked, he’d be in heaven before he swallowed the first bite.

His gaze lit on Elena. In a sunflower yellow half apron his mother had left behind, she looked like a beautiful domestic goddess.

She’d pulled those abundant brunette curls up into a twist—no doubt to keep them out of her face while she cooked.

What a shame. He preferred to see her hair hanging loose, the way she’d worn it when she arrived earlier.

She leaned against the kitchen counter—taking a well-earned break, he supposed—and eyed him as closely as he was studying her.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Yes, but no longer for food. However, there was no need to open that hot topic of conversation. So he said, “Dinner smells amazing.” She was amazing. “Where’d you learn to—” he swept his hand across the kitchen “—to do all of this?”

“Not in college.” She smiled, then pushed away from the counter, turned back to the overhead cupboard and removed a plate.

Okay, so she’d given him a clear reminder that she hadn’t studied to be a nanny, wife or mother. And in spite of what appeared to be a delicious meal and a tidy kitchen, her message came through loud and clear.

In fact, so did her sexy, don’t-call-me-matronly appearance. Had she done that on purpose? Had she planned to make sure that she dressed in a way that kept him from having any domestic thoughts about her?

It would seem so. That gauzy skirt and red tank top that molded to her body set his hormones pumping—even though they were slightly hidden by his mom’s apron.

Elena turned around, and in spite of holding a heaping plate of pasta loaded with sauce that must be for him, he couldn’t help but gaze at her eyes, at her face. He swallowed—hard.

Whether she realized what was going on in his testosterone-loaded bloodstream or not, she swept past him. Her light, exotic fragrance taunted him as she placed his plate on the table. “Here you go.”

“Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked.

“I don’t eat red meat. In fact, I’m practically a vegetarian.”

Seriously? It didn’t make sense that she would cook beef tonight. Most women—well, the vegetarians he’d dated in the past—would have made some kind of tofu-quinoa crap and tried to convince him and the kids how tasty it was. Although, he suspected that an old cowboy boot would have been lip-smacking good if it had simmered in that sauce long enough.

“You didn’t have to make something you weren’t going to eat,” he said. “The kids and I would have been okay with the bean burritos.”

She shrugged. “I’m not a big fan of processed food, either, so I figured you’d rather have beef.”

Sure, he liked it but he usually opted for fish or chicken when he had a choice. “The meal looks great, but what made you think I’d prefer red meat?”

“Because this is Texas. And my father told me that the Bar M will be raising cattle soon.”

“So what are you going to eat?” he asked.

“I just finished a small bowl of pasta, along with some of the veggies and sauce before I added the beef. So go ahead and have a seat. As soon as the kids are finished, I’ll take them upstairs and supervise their baths.”

Braden ate alone all the time, but for some reason, it felt awkward for him to do so tonight. Was this some passive-aggressive attempt to remind him that she was the hired help and they were not to socialize in any way?

But he was too hungry to ponder the thought, so he shook it off and said, “Sounds like a plan.” It also sounded as though she had everything under control.

Yet as she herded the kids out of the kitchen, leaving him to eat in peace and quiet, he couldn’t help watching her go—and wishing she hadn’t sworn off Texas beef and possibly even the small-town cowboys who raised them.


Chapter Three (#ulink_5693d04a-cdc6-531a-ad03-34535bcd5cf6)

Thirty minutes later, Braden had not only finished the plate Elena had fixed for him, but also the second helping he’d served himself. Then he washed the few dishes that were left in the kitchen.

On his way to his bedroom, he heard chatter in the bathroom down the hall, as well as splashing in the tub. Elena sure had the kids talking and laughing a lot. The twins deserved a little fun. Lord knows, Braden hadn’t been capable of providing them with any, which was another reason they’d be better off when his brother or sister arrived and could step in.

For a moment, his gut twisted. What if neither Jason nor Carly wanted to take on a commitment like that? He couldn’t imagine that they’d both refuse to take the kids. After all, the twins were family—blood relatives. And there was no way he’d want to see them shuffled off to foster care or...

A rustle of insecurity slid over him. If there was no other choice, he’d have to keep Beto and Bela—a scary thought.

But surely Jason or Carly would see the benefit of those children growing up with a married couple.

No, this was only a temporary gig. Braden would help out when he could, and the kids needed him now. So here he was.

Thank God he’d found Elena.

Fighting the urge to step in and see what was going on in the bathroom, he ignored the commotion and ducked into the privacy of his master suite and closed the door. Then he took a long, hot shower.

He could have remained in his steam-filled private bathroom or stretched out on his king-size bed, locked away from the hubbub, since Elena was far more competent with the children than he was. But he couldn’t help thinking that the kids could be running amok and that she might need him.

So after drying off, he slipped on a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. Things had gotten quiet, so he suspected she had it all under control. But he wasn’t going to hang out in his bedroom all evening. While he was growing up, it had been the hour right before bedtime that he’d enjoyed the most. That was the time when his mom would let him snuggle in next to her on the old plaid sofa while she read to him. Or when he’d sit next to Grammy and Grandpa and watch Wheel of Fortune.

But he wasn’t the only adult in the house tonight, and he had no idea what the protocol was for the first night for strangers who had become new roommates. Either way, it seemed as if he should at least thank Elena for a job well done and a mighty fine meal.

When he stepped out into the hall, she was leaving the kids’ room. A water mark darkened the red fabric of her tank shirt, right across her left breast.

“The kids are bathed and tucked in bed,” she said.

Keep your eyes off that damned water spot. And look at her face. She’s got beautiful eyes—big, brown, expressive...

And she’s an employee, for cripes’ sake. A child-care worker. Domesticity at its finest.

But she wasn’t giving him any reason to think about kids or home and hearth at the moment.

Again, he shook off the sexual distraction and asked, “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Caffeine would keep me awake. But I might have a Popsicle instead.”

He laughed. “That sounds good to me, too.”

“I’m going to pick up the mess the kids left in the family room first. I would have asked them to do it themselves, but by the time I got them settled down and in bed, I didn’t want to rile them up again.”

“Good idea. Isn’t there an old saying about letting sleeping children lie?”

She lobbed him a bright-eyed grin. “I think you mean ‘dogs,’ but it’s pretty much the same thing.”

He stepped aside and swept his arm in front of him. “I’ll help. After you.”

As she passed by him, he caught another whiff of her floral scent and watched as the hem of her skirt swept across her shapely calves.

Damn, she was lovely. What in the hell had made him think his problems were finally solved now that she was here?

As they headed to the family room, where coloring pages, crayons and workbooks were spread about, Braden said, “I really enjoyed dinner.”

“Thanks. When I moved in with my dad, one of my first chores was to help Laura in the kitchen.”

Laura? Not Mom? Then it dawned on him. “I hadn’t realized that Laura wasn’t your...” His words drifted off. He hadn’t meant to probe into her personal life. But he’d seen Paco and Laura Ramirez together with their other children in town and at the feed store on many occasions and had assumed the happy couple had always been together.

Then again, Elena had to be seven or eight years older than their first born son, who was a star quarterback on the Brighton Valley High football team.

“My mom died when I was twelve,” Elena added.

“I’m sorry.” Braden rarely talked about his past, but for some crazy reason, he found himself saying, “But you’re lucky to have a father like Paco. My dad was never really involved in my life.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d opened up about that. He never hinted at any chinks in his armor and, while Elena’s disclosure had caused him to lower his guard, he wasn’t about to say any more than he already had.

But the truth of the matter was, from what he’d observed of the man, he would have given up his share of the Rayburn riches to have had a father like hers.

“Actually,” Elena said, as she placed the last crayon in the box, “my early years weren’t sunshine and roses.”

Her comment took him aback. “Your dad seems like he has it all together. Your mom—well, I mean Laura—does, too.”

“My dad’s awesome. And Laura is the best, but I didn’t spend much time with them until I was older. And when I did visit them as a little girl, it was always pretty stressful. My real mom made life rough for all of us.”

Braden wanted to ask, “How so?” But he never liked people prying into his business—or the awkward relationship between his mom and dad. From the first week of kindergarten, Braden had learned that his family situation wasn’t the norm and he’d always been interested in what happened inside other kids’ families and what he was missing out on. So he kept quiet, hoping she’d continue.

After a long, thought-filled moment, she said, “My parents got married right out of high school, and I was born six months later. But they fought all the time and separated right after my third birthday.”

“It sounds like splitting up was for the best.”

“That’s true. Unfortunately, my mom was one of those people who thrived on drama and conflict. And she always wanted to have the last word. Believe it or not, their divorce proceedings lasted longer than the marriage.”

“That’s too bad. I know some people can remain friends during a split like that, but from what I’ve heard, my father’s first divorce was pretty sticky, too.”

“I can understand that.”

Could she? Apparently the Brighton Valley rumor mill made sure town newcomers got the scoop, especially on the neighbors who’d moved on to greener pastures, leaving a few locals behind to deal with the embarrassment of dalliances and indiscretions. But then again, Shannon Miller’s situation had been juicy. When Braden had been conceived, Shannon was only seventeen. And at the time, his father was still married to Jason’s mother.

Elena reached for a couple of puzzle pieces that had fallen on the floor. After replacing them into their box, she stretched and arched her back, her hands splayed on her hips, her breasts begging to be noticed.

And he’d noticed, all right, but he’d be damned if he wanted her to catch him at it.

“My dad tried to be fair with my mom so they could put it all behind them,” she added. “But she fought him on every possible issue, using me as a pawn and making my life miserable until I was in the sixth grade. In fact, even though I was only a kid, I felt sorry for him—and a bit guilty, although I know it hadn’t been my fault.”

Braden had struggled with guilt as a kid, too. And he’d been as much of a victim as anyone in his parents’ affair.

“You said it lasted until you were in the sixth grade,” he said. “Is that when she finally quit fighting him?”

“Only because she died.” Elena crossed her arms. “I swear she used to lie awake thinking of ways to create problems for him. And then she’d have to medicate herself to finally go to sleep. But one night, she took too many of her pills.”

“Suicide?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. That might have been her plan because she’d driven to the liquor store for a bottle of vodka. But on the way home, she lost control of her car and ran into a tree. She was probably just strung out on the meds, but who knows what she was thinking at the time. The police ruled it an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Thanks. It was tough, but to be honest, I was torn between grief at losing her and relief that the fighting and misery were finally over.”

Braden’s parents hadn’t really fought, at least, not that he knew of. But their relationship had always been strained and tense, something he’d often thought was all because of him. If he hadn’t been conceived, they would have each gone their own way.

His mom wouldn’t have had to face the guilt she sometimes carried for being a “home wrecker,” either.

He suspected that was one reason she’d never gotten married—or really even dated before she recently ran into her old high school boyfriend at the hospital. Braden had asked her about it once, why she’d kept to herself and remained single, but she’d refused to discuss it.

Was it any wonder he wasn’t able to see romance as an end-all answer to life’s problems? That’s why he kept his relationships temporary and unencumbered. Well, for that reason and for a rather hurtful snub he’d received in high school by one of the cheerleaders.

But he wasn’t going to stew on any of that. Sometimes people got a raw deal in life, although he counted himself lucky in every other way.

“Now that the mess is cleaned up,” Elena said, “how about that Popsicle?”

“You bet.”

As they entered the kitchen, he said, “I realize things haven’t always been easy for you, but it sounds as if you’ve made the best of it.”

“I’ve been fortunate,” Elena admitted. “But it was still hard moving in with my dad and Laura. I’m so much older than the other kids. In fact, I still don’t feel as though I really fit in.”

Braden could certainly understand why she wouldn’t. He and his siblings had never been close, mostly because they’d had different mothers and had always lived apart, other than holidays and shared visits with Granny Rayburn on the Leaning R Ranch.

“It’s not fun being a half sibling. If you’re like me, you never felt as if you belonged in the same family.” Once the words rolled out, he wished he could reel them back. He didn’t like revealing any emotional vulnerability, although her raw self-disclosure had triggered him to lower his guard.

“Actually,” Elena said, “no one ever made that distinction about me. I’m always introduced as their daughter or as the other kids’ sister. And vice versa. So I don’t know why I feel that way.” She opened the freezer, removed the brightly colored box and opened it. Then she handed him a red Popsicle.

“Thanks.”

“I guess there’s another reason I never quite fit in...” She paused and bit down on her lower lip.

“What’s that?” he prodded.

She let out a soft sigh. “My mom was an artist, although as far as I know, she never did much with it. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself. But while I can’t really draw or paint, I inherited her creativity and eye for color and style.”

Braden tore open the wrapping, then tossed the paper in the trash. “That makes you different?”

“Yes, but...it’s complicated.” She opened up her Popsicle, too, and tossed the wrapping. Then she licked the orange treat.

Damn. The woman couldn’t even eat a kid’s snack without looking as sexy as hell and setting his hormones pumping.

As if not having a clue what she was doing to him, she continued. “Laura is a good cook and a great mom, but she’s not very artistic or creative. So her decorating skill leaves something to be desired. A couple of times, I rearranged things to make the house more appealing or the artwork better balanced. And I think it bothered her.”

“Did she say something about it?”

“Not the first time, which is why I didn’t think anything about doing it again. But this last time she got very quiet afterward. When I returned last week, I saw that she’d put things back the way they were.” Elena’s brow furrowed, and she worried her bottom lip. Then she said, “Maybe it offended her. Or it could remind her of my mother and all the grief she put them through. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being sensitive.” She shrugged. “Boy, listen to me going on and on about myself.”

As curious as Braden continued to be, he was a little relieved that she was done talking about her personal life. He’d never been comfortable with anyone expressing their emotions, or expecting him to talk about his own.

He took a seat at the kitchen table, and she followed suit. They sat quietly for a while, lost in their thoughts, but he couldn’t ignore the beautiful woman sitting across from him.

“So tell me your plans for the dress shop you intend to open,” he said.

“I’m going to call it The Attic. But it’ll be more than just a dress shop. I’m going to have a lot of other things for sale.”

Something told him she’d be a real success at whatever she chose to do. “What kind of other things?”

“Shoes; fun, quirky gifts; decorator items and things like that. Have you ever shopped at Anthropologie?”

He shook his head. It sounded like a college course to him.

She gave a little shrug. “Well, if you’re not familiar with that store, then it wasn’t a useful example. Not that I’m going to copy them by any means. The Attic will be unique. I’m going to place my own mark on it.” She began to brighten, those honey-brown eyes glimmering with building excitement. “I have big plans for it and have already done a lot of the footwork. I’ve found suppliers for the exact kind of merchandise I want to offer for sale. I’ll also be able to sell used treasures I purchase at estate sales. And best of all, when this all comes together for me, I can finally leave Brighton Valley behind.”

Brighton Valley?

Or her dad and stepmom?

He supposed it didn’t matter. “So why Houston and not Austin?”

“The store where I used to work is a little similar to what I plan for The Attic. Besides, Houston is only two hours away, so my dad and Laura won’t think I abandoned them completely.”

“I didn’t realize you were so eager to move away,” he said.

She flashed him a pretty smile and pointed at him with her half-eaten orange Popsicle. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ll come home to visit, especially on holidays, but I’m really looking forward to finally establishing my life and career in the city.”

Braden didn’t want to think about her leaving right now. Not when he was just barely getting to know her and had the urge to learn even more. He stole a glance her way and caught her studying him intently.

“Tell me more about the twins,” she said. “I’ve only spent a few hours with them, but they’re cool kids. They’re not only cute, they’re bright and funny, too.”

“The language difference makes it tough for me to get a handle on their personalities, although I’ve figured out that Bela is sweet and motherly, while Beto is inquisitive and loves animals.”

“I’ll work on teaching them English, and before you know it, you’ll be able to communicate with them.” She took another bite of her frozen treat. “What do you know about their life before coming here?”

“Not much.” Braden finished off his Popsicle, then tossed the stick in the trash. “Did they say anything to you about their background?”

“I didn’t quiz them. Do you want me to?”

“Yes, if you’d be sensitive and do it gently. My brother and sister don’t speak Spanish, either—at least not well enough to broach a difficult subject with two kids who lost both their mom and their dad within two years. We’re pretty sure about what’s gone on in their lives in the past six months, but the whole Camilla mystery has all three of us curious.”

“Who’s Camilla?”

“Their mother. Camilla Cruz was an artist who died of breast cancer two years ago.”

“What do you mean by her ‘mystery’?”

“Camilla’s father, Reuben, used to be a foreman on the Leaning R Ranch, but he quit and returned to Mexico about four years ago, telling Granny Rayburn that he had a family emergency to tend to.” Braden raked a hand through his hair. “Camilla had visited the Leaning R, and she and my dad became lovers. But she left Texas without telling him where she was going.”

“Was she pregnant with the twins when she left?”

“Apparently. I’m not sure he knew it, though. I suspect that he only learned about their existence in the past year or so because, six months ago, he hired a private investigative firm to find the kids in Mexico. Then he went with the PI to bring them back to the States, but he and the investigator were both killed in a car accident. So I’m afraid any other details about Beto and Bela died with them, as well as the reason he had placed various pieces of Camilla’s artwork in storage in San Antonio.”

Elena leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “How do you know the twins are his?”

“They were born in San Diego, and Charles Rayburn is listed as their father on their birth certificates. Their passports reflect the same thing, and we have reason to believe that once he learned of their existence, he never doubted that they were his.”

“So you don’t think he knew about them until recently?”

“My dad was always financially generous with his kids, and there was no record of him having paid any child support payments for Beto and Bela. So it’s pretty obvious that he’d only recently found out about them and meant to bring them home.”

“How did they get here?” she asked.

“When it was learned that my dad had been working with a private investigator, I wondered what he’d been looking for.”

“He didn’t tell anyone?”

“My dad?” Braden slowly shook his head. “He never shared his personal life with me—or with anyone. Jason worked for Rayburn Enterprises, and even he didn’t know why our old man had left the country or hired a bilingual PI firm.”

“How did you find out about the twins? Did you go through the investigator’s company records?”

“There weren’t many notes that could help. I’d just gotten home from my first and last go round on the rodeo circuit and didn’t have anything else going on at the time. So, to appease my curiosity and to get my mind off the fact that my body was in no shape to pursue a career in bull riding, I took a little trip south of the border to see what I could find out. A week later, I learned that my dad had been looking for twins who’d been placed in an orphanage. Come to find out, they were Camilla’s children, and she’d passed away a couple years earlier.”

“So you were able to bring them back to the States?”

“I would have, but when my grandpa took a turn for the worse, I rushed home to be with him and my mom. So Jason took up the search and found them living with a woman our old man had hired just before the accident.”

Elena seemed to consider everything he’d told her. And he couldn’t blame her. It had been a lot for him—for any of them—to wrap their minds around. But she was a good listener, at least better than the buckle bunnies he’d gotten involved with on the pro rodeo circuit.

“I can see where you’d be curious about their early years,” she said. “I’ll ask a few questions to see what they have to say.”

“Thanks. Jason and his wife made it a point not to discuss the situation in front of them, even though they don’t speak English. So it would be nice if we could get a better understanding of what went down with their mother and our father before we tell them anything.”

“You mean, they don’t know what’s going to become of them?” she asked, her pretty brow furrowed. “Do they know they’re related to you? It could be very unsettling not to know where you’re going to live or who will be taking care of you.”

“Either Jason or Carly will probably become their legal guardian, although we haven’t decided who’s going to do it yet. We’re still trying to deal with the news and to determine what’s best for them.”

“Who took care of them while they were living in Mexico?” she asked.

“For the past six months, it was the woman my dad hired, but she didn’t offer much information.”

“Because of the language barrier?”

Braden blew out a sigh. “That was only part of it. She wasn’t very warm or loving.”

“Did she treat them badly?”

“You might ask them, but they didn’t appear to have been neglected or abused. Apparently, when my dad didn’t return when he said he would, she assumed that he’d abandoned them and cheated her out of the money he owed her. She was just about to return them to the orphanage where they’d been living before my dad found them.”

“That’s so sad.”

“We thought so, too.” Braden tore his gaze away and studied the pattern on the tile floor. His heart went out to the poor kids, and he was determined to be a good big brother. He just wished he would have had one he could emulate. Jason had often avoided him or ignored him while they’d grown up. Not that he’d been eager to make friends, either.

But that was just one more thing he could blame on his father, one more handicap he hoped he’d overcome.

Fortunately, things were better between the half siblings now, which only made him regret the years they could have had. But that was all water under the bridge.

Yet, in spite of his resolve not to stew about the past—or his lovely companion—his thoughts and his gaze drifted off anyway.

* * *

Elena hadn’t meant to stare at the handsome cowboy, but he was so deep in thought that his expression was hard to read, even though a slew of emotions filled his meadow-green eyes like a soft summer rain.

Besides, he intrigued her. His family did, too, especially when she considered the great effort they’d gone to in order to bring the kids to Texas and their determination to provide them a home.

Even the late Charles Rayburn, with his obvious faults, had gone to retrieve his son and daughter when he’d learned of their situation—and maybe even their existence.

It would seem that finding the twins and claiming them as equals would cost the older Rayburn siblings when it came to dividing their inheritance. She’d heard their father had been worth jillions, so maybe the money didn’t matter that much. Either way, she suspected there was some kind of honor between them, which was nice.

While she didn’t know much about the Rayburn side of the family, she did know something about Braden’s maternal grandfather.

Gerald Miller had ranched in Brighton Valley for years. He’d even spent time on the town council for a while. And Shannon Miller, Braden’s mom, was involved in the women’s auxiliary at the Wexler Community Church. They were what Elena’s father called buena gente—good people.

When Braden looked up and caught Elena studying him, her cheeks warmed and she quickly turned away.

Okay, so maybe there was another reason she’d flushed with embarrassment when he caught her gaze just seconds ago. She hadn’t been just noting his furrowed brow.

She’d also been checking out his profile, his chiseled cheekbones and his square-cut jaw.

He stood, drawing her attention, and returned to the freezer with a long, lean cowboy swagger.

“You want another Popsicle?” he asked, as he turned to face her, a dimpled smile on his handsome face.

“No, thank you. One is enough.” She’d already spent enough time with him and had opened up in an unexpected way. All she needed was to lower her guard to the point of doing or saying something she’d regret in the morning.

Braden was the kind of man who could turn a woman’s head, but Elena wouldn’t let her attraction get out of hand. Of course, that was easier said than done when her hormones were triggering romantic thoughts that were totally inappropriate.

She blamed it on the stillness of the house in the evening and the admiration she felt for him because he was trying so hard to do right by Beto and Bela. But she couldn’t continue to chat with him tonight. It could only lead to trouble—or, at the very least, temptation. She had a job to do. And while it was far removed from anything she’d created on her vision board back in January, she would see her commitment through. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she loved her stepmom, but Elena had made a vow to herself that she would never settle down as some country housewife and pop out a bunch of babies, especially with a former rodeo cowboy.





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