Kimberly Van Meter - [Cowboy Country] - Kids On The Doorstep p.02

JOHN SPENT MOST OF THE MORNING working with a skittish mare that’d been brought
the day before and he was thankful for the hard work. The moment he entered the
arena, she shied away, stomping the ground with her front hooves as if daring
him to get closer so she could stamp a nice U-shaped mark on his forehead. He
let her settle down but didn’t leave the arena. He let her know that he wasn’t
going anywhere but didn’t try connecting the lead rope to her halter, either.
The two eyed each other and John settled into a comfortable space inside his
head. He could sense her distrust and knew this girl would take considerable
work on his part to get her to the point where she didn’t try to kill anyone who
came near her.
As it was it took four men to unload her into the horse paddock and she’d shown
her displeasure by kicking the shit out of the stable gate as she tried to get
out of her stall. Her wild screams told him she didn’t like enclosed spaces and
he soon moved her to a bigger, much roomier stall that he usually reserved for
foaling mares. Luckily, at the moment he didn’t need the special sized stall.
Once she didn’t feel the walls closing in on her, she settled with an uneasy
whinny but none of the ranch hands wanted to go near her. John didn’t blame
them. He instructed everyone to steer clear of the young mare appropriately
named Vixen and so far they had. Today was the first day he’d had the chance to
formerly introduce himself so to speak and by the murderous glint in her eye,
the introduction wasn’t going so well.
“You and I are going to get along just fine,” he said low and soft as if the
horse could understand every word. “I know you’ve had a hard time of it but no
one is going to hurt you here. You have to behave, though, you hear me? No more
kicking stable doors and scaring the life out of my ranch hands. I don’t pay
them enough for that shit.”
Vixen tossed her head as if to say “that’s your problem” and he chuckled softly.
That it was. “We’re going to get along just fine, aren’t we?” he asked, a small
grin lifting the corners of his mouth. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a
challenge and judging by the proud and stubborn toss of the young mare’s head,
he’d found a damn good one.
Vixen reminded him of Alexis—all spit and fire—if only to draw attention away
from the wound inside. He knew Alexis cried at night when she thought no one
could hear her, when her sisters were fast asleep and she thought he was crashed
out in front of the fire. But he heard her heartbroken sobs clear as if she were
curled in his lap soaking his shoulder. And he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit it
hit him hard. But what did he know about consoling a little girl’s broken heart?
How was he supposed to help her heal? He was out of his league. You didn’t ask a
horseman to wrestle with alligators because it wasn’t his specialty and he was
likely to get his hand chomped off. That’s how he felt. Caged with an alligator
with nothing but a lead rope and a prayer. By his estimation, neither one was
going to do much good.
So where did that leave him? The mare stared warily, watching and waiting for
his next move, and the answer came to him with the slow cumbersome gearshift of
the truly reluctant. The only way Alexis was going to heal was if she had her
mama back in her life, which meant, and he really didn’t like the sound of this,
he was going to have to help Renee mend the fence.
And that meant playing nice with the woman.
Aww hell.
He didn’t know how to do that, either.
He glanced back at Vixen, who nickered—or maybe it was a snicker—and said with a
shake of his head and a promise in his eye, “Oh, don’t look so smug. You’re
next, hot hooves. You’re about the only thing I know how to handle around here.
So, let’s get to work, shall we?”

RENEE GLARED AT THE SKY and cursed the snow spiraling out of the dark, ominous
clouds as she wrestled another box out of her car and struggled to keep her
footing on the slippery ground.
“Here, let me take that before you land face-first in a snowdrift,” John said
gruffly, lifting the box from her arms before she could protest. “We could’ve
waited until Monday, after the storm passed us by,” he said over his shoulder as
she hurried to catch up.
“No, I’ve waited long enough to be around my girls. I’m not letting some—Oh!”
She slipped a little and nearly landed on her rear but somehow caught herself
before doing so. John didn’t slow nor did he glance back at her. Straightening,
she took more care as she made her way toward the guesthouse. “I’m not going to
let some storm get in my way. Besides, who’s to say this storm would be over by
then? No way. I’m settling in and getting comfortable as soon as possible.”
He turned abruptly and she almost ran into him. “Oh! You should say something
before you do that!” she admonished with a glare, her breath pluming in a misty
curl between them. “The ground is hard enough to walk without you stopping for
no good reason in the middle of the path. Have you ever considered putting in a
nice sidewalk to the guesthouse?”
“No. That would encourage people to stay longer than they’re welcome,” he
answered, shifting the box easily although Renee knew it was heavy. So there
must be some muscles hidden beneath that flannel shirt she noted with a private
shrug. Big deal. She’d never been one to swoon over some hunky cowboy type.
Wrangler butts don’t drive her nuts. Good thing, too, because a cursory, almost
defiant sweep of his butt, revealed an ass that she couldn’t help but admit was
on the perfect side. He caught her unfortunate perusal and his eyebrow lifted
only so slightly as he said, “Flattered but not interested. The house is the
only thing available in this deal.”
The nerve of this guy! As if she’d be interested in him. The idea bordered on
ridiculous. Pulling the box from him and grunting only slightly from the effort,
she said coolly, “I wasn’t inquiring. I can handle the rest, thank you. What
else did you have to say when you nearly made me run into you?”
She expected him to fight her over the box but he didn’t. The jerk merely
shrugged and pulled a key from his pocket, saying, “I was just going to mention
that you can help yourself to the woodshed out back and I suggest you build a
fire right away. It’s the only source of heat in there. Here’s the key.” And
then after pushing the key into the lock since her hands were full, he walked
away, not slipping even once although Renee was really hoping he would—it would
serve him right—and disappeared in the direction of the barn.
Nerve, nerve, nerve! The man had it in spades. Oh, sure, he gave off that quiet,
unassuming vibe but the man actually had an ego the size of…well, for lack of
anything more witty or clever, Texas!
She managed to hold on to the box and open the door with a minimal amount of
swearing and despite the bone-chilling cold was actually sweating from the
exertion.
Dropping the box with less delicacy than she should’ve, she winced as she heard
the muffled crack of something breaking and wondered which of her precious few
possessions she’d just shattered. After huffing a short breath and vowing to
open the box later to find out, she decided to wander the small house to see
what she was looking at as far as living conditions go.
Well, it was better than her hotel room, she noted after a quick perusal of the
small house. One bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchenette and a tiny living room.
Not bad.
If only it weren’t wallpapered with some kind of hideous rose wallpaper that
looked like it was taken straight out of the pages of a Sears, Roebuck catalog,
circa 1920. She grimaced. Thank God she wasn’t planning on staying long. This
wallpaper might make her lose her mind. She peered out the small front window.
Nothing but more snow fluttered from the sky, threatening to bury the small
house and the ranch itself if the storm didn’t let up. Flicking the living room
light on, she pushed the box out of the way of traffic and readied herself for
another trip to the car. She didn’t have much but at the moment, even one more
trip outside wasn’t a pleasant thought. Get on with it, she chided herself,
wrapping her shawl more tightly around her neck. If she didn’t want to sleep in
her jeans tonight, she’d better get the rest of her stuff before the path from
the driveway to the guesthouse became damn near impassable.
Trudging through the gathering snow, her toes freezing in her worn hiking boots,
she couldn’t help the quick glance toward the barn as she wondered what kind of
woman—if any—would turn John Murphy’s head.
Likely as not, that woman didn’t exist. She scowled at her thoughts.
Yeah, well, who cares? It’s not like she was hoping to be that woman, anyway.
She just wanted her kids back. End of story.
Besides, no one in their right mind would want to live here, she thought with a
surly temper as she sank to her knee in fresh powder and nearly toppled forward
in a frontal snow angel dive. Pulling her foot free, she muttered with a fierce
glower, “I hate snow. I really, really, really hate snow.” And I think I just
might hate you, too, John Murphy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE STORM DIDN’T LET UP as John had thought and since there was little work he
could do with the horses in the current weather, all he could do was wait it
out. Normally, he’d just tinker around the house, doing odd jobs he’d put off
but he couldn’t turn around without stumbling over a little girl underfoot since
Alexis and Taylor had been given a snow day.
Peering toward the guesthouse, he was satisfied to see that the little chimney
was pumping out smoke, which meant Renee, despite the odds he was betting to the
contrary, knew how to build a fire. At least she wouldn’t freeze. Not that he
was worried.
He moved to the living room and thought about reading the local paper he’d
missed from the previous week but as he entered the room it was hard to avoid
the long, sullen faces of three little girls who were dying from boredom.
Earlier Renee had found an old puzzle and she and Taylor had spent an hour
putting it together only to discover it was missing a piece. But Taylor had just
giggled and Renee’s expression of pure joy had been hard to walk by without
taking notice. He could see the happiness shining from her eyes at her
daughter’s carefree laughter and it jerked his foundation a little. Alexis, of
course, had had nothing to do with her mother or her invitation to join them.
For a split second John regretted seeing the light dimming in Renee’s eyes at
her daughter’s open rejection and it had bothered him that he cared. Later,
Renee had returned to her cottage and the girls had slowly slipped into terminal
boredom when Gladys had taken to her bed early.
It was one thing to be locked in a house of your own with your own things to
keep you company, but it was completely something else when you’re locked in a
stranger’s house with nothing familiar.
He remembered what he and Evan used to do when the snow piled high and their mom
had had enough of their tussling in the house. She sent them outside in the snow
with the order to stay out of trouble or else.
A speculative glance toward the girls had his mind moving. If memory served,
there was still a toboggan in the attic gathering dust along with the rest of
his childhood mementos. He’d be willing to bet Taylor would love a ride down the
hill on that thing.
A few minutes later, he entered the living room with an announcement.
“Bundle up, we’re going outside.”
“It’s snowing,” Alexis said.
“Are you going to melt if a snowflake lands on you?”
She scowled. “No. But it’s cold outside and Chloe’s still sick.”
“Fresh air never hurt anyone. Besides, her cough is getting better by the day.
Discussion over. Go get dressed and help your sisters, please. We’re going
outside.”
Alexis didn’t argue further but the unhappy pout told him volumes about her
disposition. He didn’t let it get to him, though. He suspected her attitude had
less to do with the snow and more to do with the fact he’d let her mama move
into the guesthouse. He withheld a sigh. Despite some reservations, he supposed
he had to find a way to get those two talking again. He glanced at the small
guesthouse, and figured he might as well stop putting it off and start lending a
hand. To that end, he made a decision that he hoped didn’t blow up in his face.
“I’ll be right back,” he told the girls who were in the process of being bundled
into new jackets and mittens that had been part of the back-to-school shopping
spree that he’d instructed Gladys to make. He had to admit, Gladys had a better
eye when it came to girly stuff than he did. His idea of high fashion was a
clean flannel shirt but, shoot, the horses didn’t care what he wore. “Make sure
you zipper up good. The wind is blowing a bit,” he instructed.
“Maybe we should stay in the house then,” Alexis muttered but continued to help
Taylor into her mittens.
Making his way to the guesthouse, he gave the door a short rap. A minute later
Renee appeared wearing a pink fuzzy sweater that plunged at the neckline in an
enticing V, practically plucking John’s eyeballs from his head and nestling them
between her ample breasts, until she crossed her arms at the immediate chill to
ask, “Is everything okay?”
Uh. Shaking off the odd spell—had she been wearing that sweater earlier? Seemed
funny that he just now noticed how much it flattered her figure—he focused on
her face as he answered. “We’re going sledding. Do you want to come?”
“Sledding?” She blinked at him, her mouth working silently as she considered the
offer. “You mean actual sledding? Down a hill or something?”
“That’s generally how it’s done. You’ve never gone sledding before?”
“No. I didn’t grow up around the snow,” she answered, tightening her arms and
scowling much like Alexis did. “It’s not a childhood requirement, you know.”
“You’re right,” he agreed amiably. “So, here’s your chance to see what you’ve
been missing. Bundle up and meet us out front.”
He didn’t give her much opportunity to say more and he did that purposefully. He
was having a hard time focusing when his eyeballs wanted to slide downward to
enjoy the view that shouldn’t have interested him at all given their situation.
But, as his brother liked to point out with a cheeky grin, he had needs, too. He
shook off the immediate bells and whistles that hooted and hollered in his head
at the thought of satisfying those pent-up needs with Renee Dolling and walked a
little faster away from the small house.
The girls, stamping their feet in the snow and blowing little clouds in the
frosty air, gaped at the toboggan he carried under his arm.
“What’s that, Mr. John?” Taylor asked, her smart gaze feasting on the long,
sturdy contraption that despite its age was in excellent shape.
“It’s a toboggan and we’re going to do something that I used to do with my
brother, Evan, back when we were kids and there was nothing to do but watch the
snow fall. Come with me.” Bending, he scooped Chloe up, carrying the toddler
while pulling the toboggan behind him, his own breath making blue-gray puffs
that quickly disappeared in the frigid air. Out of the corner of his eye he
caught sight of Renee running to catch up. He kept his expression neutral though
he had the strange impulse to grin.
Taylor squealed and jumped into a snowdrift, giggling as the white powder
swallowed her small frame until she had to kick her feet to regain her footing.
“I like snow,” she announced as Renee took her hand and pulled her out. “Do you
like snow?” she inquired and John listened a little more intently for Renee’s
answer.
“I like being with you girls,” Renee answered diplomatically and John chuckled
softly. She was breathing a little harder from the exertion and her cheeks
bloomed prettily, not that she needed any help in that department, John noted
with exasperation. Renee tried making small talk with Alexis and John admired
her tenacity in the face of her daughter’s dark expression. “Remember that time
we went to Kirkwood and—”
“No. I don’t.”
Alexis trudged ahead, her arms swinging with the effort as she put distance
between them all. John heard Renee’s unhappy sigh and slowed his own gait so
they were walking side by side.
“She’s pretty headstrong,” he said, needing to say something that might put
Alexis’s rejection into perspective.
“Always has been. But she used to be on my side,” Renee said. “She’s not the
kind of kid who forgives or forgets easily.”
“Would you want her to be?”
“No. Not really. I’ve always felt that Alexis had a good head on her shoulders.
That life wouldn’t tip her over like it did me. She’s always had the uncanny
ability to see through the bullshit. I wish I’d had that talent when I was
young.”
John wondered at that statement. He was slowly beginning to realize that Renee’s
past may well be a chaotic one. Shrugging, he said, “She’ll come around.”
“I know. But it hurts to be on the outside.”
“Give it some time. She’s still getting used to having you around again. But she
misses her mama and that’s the truth.”
Renee looked at him sharply. “Really? Did she say something?”
“Not in words. It’s a feeling. A hunch.”
Her expression fell and she sniffed. “Forgive me if I don’t put much store in
hunches and feelings. My daughter hates me and goes out of her way to make sure
I feel the sting of it every day. I would’ve been more hopeful if she’d actually
admitted something to you.”
“You don’t always get what you want the way that you want it. Hasn’t anyone ever
told you that?” He cocked his head at her, while Chloe tried to catch
snowflakes. Renee smiled at Chloe but gave him a hard look.
“Of course I know that. I’m just saying—”
“And so am I.”
Silence stretched between them as they both processed what’d been said, and just
as John was thinking he’d said too much and perhaps should’ve kept his opinion
to himself, they arrived at the small hill John had had in mind.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Renee asked, peering anxiously down the gentle slope
as John put Chloe on her feet near her sisters. “I mean, it looks a little steep
for the girls.”
John chuckled. “Chloe could go down this hill by herself. I’ll set up the track
and then we’ll take turns taking the girls down. Okay? It’s completely safe. I
promise.” And then he gave her a wide—almost daring—grin. Why? He hadn’t a clue
but her reaction was worth the confusion.

RENEE FELT A SUBTLE JUMP in her heartrate at the smile playing on John’s lips
and her imagination kicked into overdrive at the worst moment. Pulling her gaze
away with obvious effort, she glanced back down the hill and then at her girls.
“All right…I guess that’d be okay. How are you going to make the track?”
“That’s part of the fun. I’ll pave the way so that when we go down with the
girls, we have something to stick to. Sort of like a road.”
She didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about but she was willing to
watch and see. “Be my guest, road master. Carry on. We’ll sit back and watch as
you crack your head open.”
John’s bark of laughter surprised her and she smiled in spite of herself. “Watch
and learn, city girl,” he said.
Were they—good Lord—almost flirting with each other?
Maybe a tad, a small voice answered, encouraging her to continue playing, which
she obliged with little resistance.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she retorted, her smile growing, then
gestured. “We’re waiting…”
“Right. Step aside, females. Watch the Toboggan King work his magic.”
Renee laughed, enjoying seeing this different side of the man she swore she’d
never like, and picked up Chloe. “I hope my cell phone works out here,” she said
to her youngest daughter in a conspiratorial tone. “Because I sure as hell can’t
carry him if he goes and breaks himself.”
John looked back at her. “Ye of little faith…”
Chloe giggled and pointed as John positioned himself on the sled at the top of
the hill and shoved off. Renee gasped as he skimmed the snow and left behind a
sleek trail that looked smooth as ice before slowing to a stop at the bottom,
safe and sound and grinning from ear to ear.
Oh, he shouldn’t do that. Who knew there was a Colgate smile—blindingly
white—hidden behind that stern scowl? It was as if she were seeing him for the
first time and that was patently ridiculous but, hey, it was the truth and she
was never much of a liar, anyway. Million watt. Straight, white teeth. What a
killer smile. A lady killer, that is. She drew a shaky breath, fitted a
tremulous smile to her own lips and tried to let the moment of insanity fade
without drawing too much attention to the odd flutter and quiver she was feeling
on the inside.
As he trudged back up the hill, he said, “I can’t believe I’d forgotten how much
fun that is. Evan and I used to spend whole days crafting these amazing trails
for the sled, going so far as to make jumps, too. Okay, who’s next? Alexis? How
about you and me? We’ll show these kids how it’s done.”
Alexis, interest piqued in spite of her earlier bad attitude, agreed readily and
climbed in front of John as he wrapped his arms around her to tuck his feet.
“Hold on, this train is moving fast,” he called out as the toboggan started the
slow descent and quickly picked up speed.
Renee laughed at the delighted shriek Alexis let out and John’s accompanying
deep-throated laughter. A warmth that had nothing to do with her wool coat
filled her and Renee, for a second, lost herself in the idyllic scene before
her. She wondered why John never married and had a family of his own. He seemed
to be a natural with kids, though at first glance she’d never have guessed by
his surly attitude. John was an enigma that Renee had to admit she was fairly
curious in figuring out.
Alexis and John made their way back up the hill, cheeks a ruddy pink from the
cold, and for the first time since she’d seen her daughter again, she wore a
smile instead of a frown. It lit up her features from within and her daughter’s
natural beauty transformed her young face to one that would surely break hearts
someday. Renee could only hope that her daughter wouldn’t make the same mistakes
as she’d made, falling in love with the wrong man, giving up her hopes and
dreams, and lastly, giving up on herself. Shaking off the sad thoughts, she
focused on the joy of the moment and soon her spirits lifted as she watched
Taylor hopping up and down. “My turn! My turn!”
“I’ll go down with you,” Renee volunteered, even though she was a little leery
of the whole idea of flying down the hill with nothing more than her feet for
brakes.
Renee settled into the back and John placed Taylor in front. With a gentle push,
they started the descent, which at first was pretty sedate but then it was like
being on a Disneyland thrill ride without the benefit of being strapped in.
Taylor squealed in delight and within seconds Renee was doing the same.
Who knew hurtling headlong down a monster hill could be so thrilling?
“Let’s go again!” Taylor exclaimed, pulling impatiently on Renee’s hand as she
dragged the toboggan back up the hill.
“You bet!”
And so they spent the better half of the day slipping and sliding, laughing and
giggling until they were winded and exhausted and barely able to drag their
bodies back to the house for some much needed hot apple cider and hot chocolate.
And Renee couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun with such an unlikely
partner. She slanted a short look at John as he walked beside her, pulling the
toboggan with Chloe riding on his shoulders. Maybe there was more to John Murphy
than immediately met the eye.
Just maybe, she might be in a mind to find out.
CHAPTER NINE
WHILE JOHN WORKED ON the hot cider and chocolate, Renee helped the girls out of
their wet and snow-caked clothing and into soft pajamas and slippers.
“These look warm,” Renee observed casually of the girls’ pajamas. “Did you pick
these out?”
“Yep. On the ’net,” Taylor said, wiggling with delight into her horse-patterned
top. “Mr. John said there’s no mall anywhere near here and he hates to deal with
the people so Mr. John had Grammy buy our stuff on his computer.”
“That was nice of him to buy you girls some pj’s.”
Alexis nodded but it was obvious she wasn’t going to elaborate for Renee’s
benefit. Thankfully, Taylor wasn’t exactly a locked box when it came to
safeguarding information.
“We didn’t have any clothes ’cept for the ones that we was wearing the night we
came and Mr. John said they weren’t fit to line a dog’s bed. My jeans had holes
in them,” Taylor said. “But now, I got lots of jeans with no holes and I love my
new shoes.”
Renee made a mental note to talk to John about the purchases made thus far. It
wasn’t right for him to foot the bill. She’d have to find out how much he’d
spent so she could make arrangements to pay him back.
But for the time being, the girls were running from the room toward the kitchen,
squealing and laughing as they called out for their warm drinks.
Renee hung back a moment as she gazed about the room that her girls had taken
over. It was much like the rest of the house, masculine in its decor, but
somehow her girls had put their stamp on things with small accents. A Little
Mermaid lamp here, a pink throw blanket tossed casually on the bed over there,
and lots of clothes strewn about that were certainly the sign of little girl
territory. It was the nicest place they’d ever lived and it hurt that Renee
hadn’t been the one to provide it for them.
Smoothing the wrinkles from the comforter, she wondered if John would let her
buy some girly sheets for their bed. But as soon as the thought crossed her
mind, she discarded it. There was no sense in buying sheets for a bed they were
only going to be in temporarily. Swallowing a sigh at the fight she’d have on
her hands the day the girls had to say goodbye to the ranch and to their Mr.
John, Renee shelved the unhappy thoughts and pasted a bright smile on her lips
for her daughters’ benefit.
They weren’t leaving today. Her aunt used to tell her, don’t borrow trouble from
tomorrow when there was happiness to be found in today.
Good advice, Renee realized, for she really didn’t want to think about that day,
either.

LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER copious amounts of hot chocolate, cider, a dinner of
steak and potatoes, games of Uno, and after the girls had been tucked into bed
exhausted from the day’s activities, John felt himself reluctant to say
good-night to the one woman in the world he ought to steer clear of.
Funny how those things work.
“I guess I should turn in, too,” Renee said, although she wasn’t making a move
toward the door just yet. He took that as a sign that she was hesitant for her
own reasons and much to his shame, he jumped at it.
“Come sit a minute,” he suggested, gesturing toward the crackling fire in the
hearth. The dancing light threw soft shadows into the living room that offset
the eerie glow from the snow-packed window. “There’s no need to run off just
because the girls aren’t here. I don’t bite.”
She smiled. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure that I don’t bite or am I sure that I wouldn’t mind some company?”
“Um, both.”
He chuckled and followed her to the sofa. “I think the girls had a really good
day and I want to thank you for making that effort for them. I get the feeling
that playing in the snow isn’t your idea of a good time on most days.”
“It’s not but I didn’t realize it could be so much fun, not to mention one heck
of a workout. I think muscles I never knew I had are going to be protesting
tomorrow morning.”
He smiled but his overactive imagination had already snagged the opportunity to
be distracting and the effort was forced. Stop thinking about her curves, he
instructed his brain, searching wildly for something else to fill the space in
his head. Think of taxes, the fence that needs mending—anything! “Tell me a bit
about yourself,” he suggested and she faltered, the light fading quickly from
her eyes. “You don’t have to. I’m just a little curious about the woman—”
“Who left her kids behind?” she interrupted sharply, moving to leave but he
stopped her with a firm hand.
“No, that’s not what I was going to say. Are you always in a habit of jumping to
conclusions?”
She bit her lip. “Lately. I guess. What were you going to say?”
“Just that I’m curious to know more about the woman who is nothing like I
thought she was.”
Renee settled back on the sofa as she said, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re a bit of a wild card, if you know what I mean. Unpredictable. What
I knew about you was that you left your girls behind for reasons I don’t know
but then you’ve shown your fierce determination to get them back. To win their
love. Something tells me that there’s more to Renee Dolling, deep down. Tell me
about that woman.”
She blushed, and in the soft light with her wind-chapped lips and burnished
cheeks, she bloomed into an incomparable beauty right before his eyes. He
resisted the pull, the urge to sample those lips, to nibble along her collarbone
and taste the silken skin, but the effort cost him.
She cleared her throat and glanced away. “You give me too much credit. I’m just
a mother who made a terrible mistake who’s trying to fix it. Contrary to what it
may look like, my girls mean everything to me. They’re all I have. I married
Jason right out of high school. We were big dreamers with even bigger plans.
Unfortunately, neither one of us had the wherewithal to figure out how to make
those dreams a reality. And then, I got pregnant.”
“So Alexis wasn’t planned I take it.”
“None of the girls were planned,” Renee said drily. “But they were the joy of my
life. I was just too…” she drew a deep breath “…too drunk most of the time to
realize it.”
“Drunk?” An echo of her admission in court about rehab came back to him.
She met his stare. “Yeah. Drunk. I was…I mean, I am an alcoholic. That’s why I
left.”
He digested her admission in silence, taking a moment to let it sink in. “What
did you ex-husband think about you wanting to get sober?” he asked.
She smiled without humor. “What did he think? He tried to talk me out of it.
Jason was constantly trying to get me to drink because when I drank I forgot how
I wanted to get away from him. I’d been trying to leave him for almost a year
when I got pregnant with Chloe.”
“So you were still having sex with him even though you wanted to leave…”
“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?” Renee’s mouth hardened.
“I’m just trying to understand, you know…connect the dots,” he said by way of
apology.
“If you figure out my twisted path from then to now, leave a breadcrumb trail.
Sometimes I still don’t know how I got here,” she retorted with a trace of
bitterness. Then she sighed and shook her head in answer to his bold question.
“No. I wasn’t.”
Dawning came quickly. “Chloe isn’t your husband’s child.”
A long moment passed before Renee slowly shook her head again.
“Yet he agreed to raise her as his own?”
“He thought it would make me stay and it did…for a while. But the drinking and
the fighting just got worse and worse…until the night I blacked out and woke up
with a gash in my forehead and the girls crying in the backseat of my car. I’d
tried to drive away with them and I was smashed.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone.”
“I know that. That’s why I knew I had to leave in order to get sober. There was
a rehab facility with an opening but I couldn’t take the kids with me. I told
Jason I had to get sober for our marriage. I lied. But it was the only way he’d
agree to take care of the kids. I was in for two months and toward the end of my
stay, I finally told Jason when he came for visitation that I wanted a divorce.
I never expected him to split with the kids. I thought he might try to
intimidate me into staying with him but when he didn’t, I just assumed he agreed
with me that it was over. I got out and realized they were gone. Up until that
day I found them here, I’d been looking for them ever since.”
“And Chloe’s father?”
Shame burned in her cheeks as she answered, “Never knew him. It was a one-night
stand that I barely remember.”
John leaned back into the sofa and exhaled softly. It was a lot to take in.
Renee admitted to her mistakes and didn’t flinch from the truth even if she
hated her part in it. He had to respect that even if he didn’t understand.
“You should’ve told the judge all this,” he said quietly. “It might’ve made a
difference in the outcome.”
Her mouth twisted in a sad, wry grin. “Don’t you remember? I tried. He wasn’t
interested in hearing what I had to say. He took one look at me and wrote me off
as a bad mother who abandoned her kids. Just like everyone else in this town who
knows my situation, which seems like just about half the population.”
Renee misconstrued his silence as condemnation and ice returned to her voice as
she said, “I can’t change who I was…only who I am now. If you can’t deal with
that, that’s your problem.” She rose stiffly and walked to the back door as if
to leave but John wasn’t ready to end the night on a sour note.
“Hold on now,” he said, hurrying after her. She stopped and he could see the
hurt in her eyes even though she was trying to hide it. He reached out and put
his hand on the door to keep her from storming out. “There you go jumping to
conclusions again. Bad habit,” he murmured, distracted by the soft heave of her
chest and the gentle parting of her lips as she stared up at him. He blinked
away the fuzz in his brain but his thoughts were foggy from being so close to
her. Damn, she smelled good—earthy and sweet, like fresh alfalfa hay on a summer
day. Where was he going with that thought train? Off track. He paused to give
himself a mental shake. “I didn’t mean to rile you up,” he said.
She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip as if she were nervous and
said, “Well, you did. Rile me up,” she added with a fair amount of shake in her
voice, making him wonder if she was struggling with the same odd assortment of
inappropriate feelings, too. He hoped so. He’d hate to realize he was traveling
a one-way street. She swallowed. “But I accept your apology,” she said, lifting
her chin.
Her lips were so close, her mouth so tempting…he jerked and took a step away.
When he grinned, it almost hurt. “Good,” he said. “It’s better if we get along.
For the kids.”
“Where have I heard that before…” she said, but her voice was strained. “All
right then. Good night.”
He watched her cross to the guesthouse and waited until her door closed before
he shut himself in his own bedroom, feeling oddly discontented. Jerking his
shirt out from the waistband of his jeans he pulled it off and over his head to
toss in the laundry basket. He’d wanted to kiss her. And yet, he knew that was a
bad idea. Laying a lip-lock on the one woman who was so not available was pure
lunacy and an exercise in futility. And he wasn’t usually the kind of man who
dabbled in stupid ventures.
When he was down to his boxers, he climbed into the bed and punched the pillows
a few times in an attempt to fluff them more to his liking but it was really
just a way to blow off steam. He wanted her. Wanted her in the worst way. He
pushed at his hardened erection in annoyance. Down, boy. Nothing happening for
you.
Think taxes, mending fence—yeah, that didn’t work the first time around, and it
didn’t work now. He turned onto his stomach, grimacing at the discomfort from
his groin and closed his eyes, determined to put the whole incident behind him
and just go to sleep.
And it almost worked. But just as he hovered between asleep and awake, Renee
floated into his mental theater and instead of wearing a look of uncertainty,
she smiled suggestively over her shoulder and beckoned for him to come to her as
her robe parted and slid to the floor in a discarded heap.
He drifted into slumber on a tortured groan.

RENEE PACED HER SMALL living room unable to sleep. She twisted her hands in
agitation, not quite sure what she’d hoped would happen but definitely
disappointed that nothing had.
Yet, the very fact that she’d looked into his eyes and felt a tingle zing from
her stomach to her feminine parts made her extremely wary. She wasn’t supposed
to be attracted to John Murphy. The man had complicated her life in a way that
should make him Public Enemy #1 in her eyes but she was slowly seeing him in a
different light.
And that was not good. Better to keep the battle lines firmly drawn. They were
not on the same side. They were simply being civil to one another for the sake
of the kids. Kinda like being stuck in a loveless marriage…yeah…she knew what
that felt like.
This year was not going to be Renee Dolling’s year of living dangerously but
rather the year of practical and sound decisions that do not encourage her to
drink. Okay, so the thought wasn’t something she could put on an inspirational
button but it had to keep her on the straight and narrow. Thus far, it had. And
that was saying something after all the stress and disappointment she’d endured
while searching for her girls.
She sighed. Technically, she could date. She was past the prescribed time of no
dating after making her commitment to sobriety but somehow keeping her distance
seemed so much safer for everyone involved. No entanglements. No conflicts.
No…sex.
That’s where the pacing came in. Renee stopped and rubbed her palms down her
jeans to wipe away the sudden clammy feeling. Sex. She missed it. Needed it.
God, craved it.
But not with John Murphy.
Anyone but him. Why not, a voice whispered in her head and she nearly barked in
laughter. Why? Because that man would likely brand her soul if he so much as
touched her in a sexual manner. If they breached that intimate barrier there’d
be nothing stopping her from falling headlong in love with him. Was that a bad
thing? Yes! She didn’t want to love John Murphy. She wanted to leave Emmett’s
Mill and put this whole awful chapter of her life behind her. She wanted to
start a new life with the girls somewhere else. Was that so much to ask?
Her hormones seemed to think so because even as she berated herself for shooting
periodic looks of intense longing toward John’s house, she couldn’t stop
wondering what it might feel like to sample just one taste of that firm, sexy
mouth.
Climbing into bed, she closed her eyes with an unhappy frown and tried to ignore
the twisting tendril of achy tension that taunted her lady bits without mercy,
reminding her that no matter how hard she may try, her curiosity was not fading
but simply becoming stronger.
Well, she knew what curiosity did for the cat. She just needed to keep that
reminder front and center in her mind when she started to feel her defenses drop
around that man. That way her panties wouldn’t drop, as well.
CHAPTER TEN
JOHN AWOKE EARLY AND, BEFORE anyone else on the ranch was up and around, made a
trip to town.
Gladys needed a few things from the grocery store and the girls needed a laundry
list of school supplies. But really, as he drove, it wasn’t his list that
preoccupied his thoughts.
It was Renee. Sleep didn’t come easy and when he finally did succumb to a fitful
state of drowsing, Renee filled his dreamscape in a variety of different states
of undress. Really, that was plain ridiculous. He hadn’t been so preoccupied
with a woman since…well, it was in high school, he knew that much.
Needing a change in scenery, he went straight to the sheriff station to talk
with Sheriff Casey about something that was gnawing at him more so than Renee.
Pushing open the double doors, he greeted Nancy with a nod. “The sheriff in?”
“She is. May I ask who…oh, wait a minute, you’re John Murphy, aren’t you?”
John nodded. “Guilty.”
“How are those girls you inherited?”
“Doing good as to be expected I suspect, given their circumstances. Ranch life
seems to agree with them, Taylor especially. She loves the horses.”
“Bless their hearts,” Nancy exclaimed then shook her head with a tsking motion.
“It’s so good of you to take them in with their mother being a fruit loop and
all. With a temper no less.”
“Renee’s not a bad person. You just didn’t see her at her best.”
“I’m not saying anything to the contrary, but she did seem a bit unstable if you
ask me.”
John resisted the urge to comment further realizing that the receptionist was an
avid gossiper and just looking for fresh fodder. Well, she’d have to get it
elsewhere.
Nancy seemed to recognize her well of information had just dried up and buzzed
him through to the other side. He went straight to Sheriff Casey’s office.
Pauline Casey, a friend of John’s since high school, smiled when she saw it was
him.
“I see you made it past Nancy. What brings you into town? I know you hate to
leave that ranch of yours. Oh, by the way, you worked a miracle with Tabasco. We
were afraid we were going to have to put him down until you got your hands on
him. Now he’s a wonderful horse. You’ve earned that reputation of yours.”
John didn’t roll his eyes but wanted to. Somehow he’d been dubbed the Horse
Whisperer of Mariposa County and he was pretty sure Evan had something to do
with it. “Glad to hear he’s doing better. Can I talk to you about something?”
Suddenly all business, Pauline nodded. “Sure. What’s wrong? Something with the
girls?”
“In a way. I’ve been thinking about the father. What happens if he shows up
wanting to take the girls away? Can he do that?”
Pauline’s stare hardened. “No way in hell that’s going to happen. We have an I&B
out for his arrest on charges of child neglect, and cruelty to a minor.”
“What about the arsenic? Can’t you slap him with attempted murder?”
“Hard to prove. A defense attorney could just say that Chloe, being as young as
she is, could’ve accidentally ingested the stuff when he wasn’t around.”
“We have the girls’ testimony that he made Chloe eat eggs that he made for her
special. Isn’t that enough?”
“I wish it were. Damn, I wish it were. Trust me, I want to get this guy as much
as you but we have to have something that will stick or it will hurt the case
against him, which could land those girls back in his custody on a
technicality.”
John felt himself pale but he managed to grit out, “Not on my life. Those girls
aren’t going anywhere near that bastard. He tried to kill Chloe. You and I both
know it.”
Pauline nodded. “I hear you, John, and believe you, but we have to do things the
right way or else it could backfire and screw everything up. But before you get
yourself all worked up, it’s likely the girls would end up in protective custody
before they’d land back in his hands, at least at first. You know family
reintegration is a top priority if the parent can be rehabilitated.”
His mouth curled in disgust. “The only thing that would rehab that son of a
bitch is a bullet to the brain.”
“Careful now,” Pauline warned. “Talking like that can get you in trouble. But
don’t worry, they’re not going anywhere just yet so let’s cross that bridge when
we come to it.”
He supposed she was right but it made his gut curdle at the thought of letting
that man even a hundred yards within the girls and damn, if that didn’t make his
trigger finger itchy.
Pauline deftly changed the subject. “How are things going with the mother? She
any trouble?”
Distracted, he waved away Pauline’s question. “She’s not a problem. Not yet,
anyway,” he grumbled, his thoughts still sour.
“I’m surprised I haven’t had a call from you saying she’s tried to up and steal
them in the middle of the night. She seemed the type to grab and run.”
Pauline’s offhand comment startled him. He’d never thought of that. Suddenly, he
felt uneasy. Would she do that? He didn’t know her at all and Alexis clearly
didn’t trust her. Perhaps he’d been too quick to let her move in. And what if
he’d kissed her? What a royal idiot he was. She could be playing him for all he
knew. It wasn’t like she was trustworthy. She was an addict for crying out loud.
She was probably a pro at lying to get what she wanted. He realized Pauline was
watching him closely and he gave her a short nod as if in thanks. “I’ll keep an
eye on her,” he said. “Who knows what she’s capable of.”
“Smart thinking.”
Pauline seemed ready to play the amiable devil’s advocate as she added, “Then
again, she got off to a bad start here but maybe, deep down, she’s a good person
and if she’s given half a chance, she could be a good mother again. Who knows.
Stranger things have happened. Remember that time Fudder found that two-headed
snake down by Hatcher Creek? Creepy little thing. The snake, not Fudder,” she
said with a small chuckle. “Anyway, hopefully things will work out for everyone
involved. This is an unusual case.”
Yeah, you could say that again.
Pauline offered a wise smile and John realized there was a wealth of unsaid
knowledge behind that subtle twist of the lips. “What?” he asked, eyeing her
suspiciously.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing my ass. What’s with that look you just gave me?”
She leaned forward, her gaze intent. “Have you considered what it’s going to be
like when your chicks fly the roost? Their mom is going to regain custody
eventually.”
“I know,” he admitted with a slight scowl. “That’s good. My life can get back to
normal.”
“True. But what if normal to you now is what you want normal to be forever?”
He balked initially at Pauline’s question but once it sank further into his
brain he realized she might have a point. When the girls went on with their
lives…he’d miss them. A lot. He drew a deep breath and shook his head.
“We all adjust, right? No matter what the situation. That’s life.”
“True again,” Pauline agreed.
He cleared his throat and focused on the one thing he felt he could control. “I
want a restraining order against Jason Dolling.”
“For your protection?”
“No, for his.”
“I don’t follow.”
John met Pauline’s curious stare. “If he comes on my property. I’m going to
shoot first and ask questions later. He’s not getting near the girls. I made
them a promise and I aim to keep it.”
“Consider it done. But John—”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t shoot him. Just call us and we’ll take care of things.”
He tilted his head at her and offered a slow, dangerous smile, saying, “I’ll
call but no promises on what kind of condition he’ll be in when you arrive.
Drive fast. See you later, Pauline. Give Roy my best.”

RENEE FINISHED PUTTING the dishes into the dishwasher and caught a glimpse of
Alexis lurking around the corner. Pretending not to notice, Renee began to hum a
tune she used to sing when Alexis was small.
Taylor and Chloe were in the rec room, attempting to play a game of pool, though
neither could actually handle the pool sticks very well so they were just
rolling the pool balls into the corner pockets on their own. Chloe was too short
to really see much above the table so Taylor had to help her. Renee could hear
their giggles from the kitchen and it warmed her heart.
“How’s school so far?” she asked casually as she wiped down the tiled counter.
“Do you like your teacher?”
“He’s okay.” Alexis slid around the corner but stayed close to the hallway as if
she wanted to remain near an exit. “He has really big ears. Like an elephant.”
“All the better to hear you with, I suppose,” Renee said, holding back a smile.
“That’s what he says, too.”
“Sounds like he has a pretty good sense of humor about them.”
Alexis shrugged. “I guess.” She slid a little closer.
“Well, I hope no one is mean to him just because he’s a little different.”
“No. Everyone likes him so they don’t call him names.”
Renee folded her dish towel and hung it to dry on the oven handle. “What do you
think of him?”
Alexis’s expression was quietly reflective as she answered. “He’s very nice. He
doesn’t make me feel behind even though I am.”
Renee wanted to kiss this man. Or at the very least shake his hand. “That’s a
wonderful trait in a teacher. What’s his name?”
“Mr. Elliot.”
“Nice name for a nice man. Taylor likes her teacher, too. Mrs. Higgenbotham. She
calls her Mrs. H. for short.”
“I would, too. That’s a long name and it sounds made-up.”
“I agree.”
With the kitchen clean, there was little else busy work to do so she took a seat
at the kitchen table and hoped Alexis would follow. She held her breath as
Alexis seemed to consider the idea and then slowly slid into the chair opposite
her.
“So, how long are you staying?” Alexis asked.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Alexis looked up sharply, her eyes lighting with wary hope. “You mean, you’re
going to stay here with us at the ranch…forever?”
Renee sucked in a breath and proceeded with caution. “Alexis…when the time comes
and we get this court situation figured out, you, me and your sisters will leave
the ranch and John can get back to his life.”
Alexis stood up abruptly, her expression darkening. “I don’t want to leave the
ranch. Or Mr. John. If you want to leave, then go. But we’re not going with
you.”
“Sweetheart, that’s not possible,” Renee said, trying to appeal to her sense of
logic. “This is not our home—”
“It’s not your home. Don’t try to take us away from it.”
“Alexis, wait…let’s think this through a bit. What happens if—sometime in the
future—Mr. John falls in love with someone? And he starts a family with this
person? Where does that leave you girls? Just because we don’t live with him any
longer doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though, right?”
Tears welled in Alexis’s eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Renee almost wished
she would just so that Alexis would allow her to comfort her. But her daughter
remained stoic and it really broke Renee’s heart to watch.
“You should marry Mr. John then,” Alexis announced as if that were the answer to
everyone’s problem.
“M-marry John?” Renee nearly choked on her own spit. She couldn’t quite believe
those words had tripped out of her daughter’s mouth so easily. “That’s not going
to happen.”
“Why not? You made a deal to take care of us and clean the house, what else does
a wife do?”
Uh. “There’s so much more involved, sweetheart. Things that a nine-year-old
wouldn’t understand.”
“Like kissing?”
Renee nodded reluctantly and felt her cheeks redden. “Sort of. But kissing is
definitely involved.”
“Well, maybe you could work on the kissing part. And maybe you could get him to
like you enough to marry you. Because we’re not leaving.”
And then Alexis turned on her heel and left the kitchen.
Marry John…good Lord. The thought was enough to curl her hair.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SATURDAY, THE CRISP WINTER morning broke early and bright despite the forecasts
of rain and snow, and John wasted little time in getting outside to get some
things done.
His little shadow, Taylor, donned her alligator-green galoshes and her winter
coat and promptly followed him out the door.
He glanced back at her. “Going somewhere?”
“We’ve got chores to do, right, Mr. John?”
He nodded. “Want to help me feed the horses today?”
“You betcha.”
“You betcha? Where’d you learn that?”
“From Mrs. H. She’s always saying it and I like the sound of it so I’m gonna say
it, too.”
“I see. Well, let’s get to the stables. I can almost hear Vixen kicking the
stall door wanting to know what’s holding up the gravy train.”
“Vixen is very big but not as big as Cisco,” Taylor observed, falling into step
with John. “Cisco is like a giant. But he doesn’t scare me. He’s sweet and he
nibbles on my hand when I give him sugar cubes. I think it’s sad that someone
was mean to him. He’s so pretty.” She looked up at him, a wealth of trust and
childish innocence shining in her hazel eyes, as she asked, “Why are people mean
sometimes?”
He knew she was asking about more than cruelty to animals and he wished he knew
the answer but, frankly, he didn’t know why people did the things they did. “I
don’t know, honey. Sometimes people just aren’t right in the head and they take
out their frustrations on other people or their animals. They’re bullies, plain
and simple. But you know what? Bullies are really cowards because they only pick
on those who they think won’t or can’t fight back.”
After a long moment, Taylor nodded sagely. “I think my daddy was a bully. What
do you think?”
“I think you’re right.”
She slipped her mittened hand into his and when she looked at him again, his
heart contracted at the sadness and fear he read in her expression. “Mr. John,
is it bad if I don’t want to see my daddy again?”
“No.”
“Good.” Her relief was palpable. “Because I don’t think I want to see him again
ever. He was real mean to Chloe and he scared me. Sometimes when he looked at
us, it’s like he wished we were gone. You never look at us like that and I like
it here. You’re not ever gonna make us leave are you, Mr. John?”
“If it were within my power, honey, you could stay for as long as you want but
your mama is here and she wants to rebuild your lives together. Don’t you want
that?”
Taylor nodded solemnly. “Yeah, but why can’t we just all stay here? Renee has a
nice little house in the back so she doesn’t take up much room. Plus, she makes
really good cookies, as good as Grammy Stemming, don’t you think?”
“There’s more to the situation at hand than good cookies,” John said, wishing it
were really that simple. If only all of the world’s problems were easily solved
by a warm batch of snickerdoodles. “But I’ll tell you what, let’s not worry
about things we can’t do anything about today and just enjoy the time we have
together. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds like a co-pro-mise.”
“That’s a big word and you’re right again.”
“Well, Mrs. H. is full of big words and she says that one a lot. She’ll be happy
to know I used it. She says our brain grows when we add a new word to our
vo-cab-u-lary. Is that true?”
“If Mrs. H. says so, than it probably is.” He chuckled and gave her hand a
squeeze. “What say we get to our chores before Vixen tears down the entire
barn?”
She grinned up at him, revealing the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, and he
wondered how he was ever going to manage to say goodbye to three little girls
who stole his heart the minute they showed up on his doorstep.

GLADYS FELT HER AGE TODAY and that was a hard thing to admit even if she was
only admitting it in the privacy of her own thoughts. But this morning her bones
felt as if they were grinding against one another and her arthritis finally kept
her from working on her crochet project.
“You okay?”
Gladys startled at Renee’s voice. For a moment, Gladys had forgotten she wasn’t
alone in the house. She stopped rubbing at her wrist and smothered the grimace
for the younger woman’s sake. If there was one thing Gladys hated, it was the
pity of strangers. “Oh, just fine. Didn’t hear you come in.” She paused. “You’re
doing a good job, by the way,” she added with a brief smile but the pain in her
joints prevented a long-lasting effort.
“You come sit down,” Renee instructed gently, yet the firm set of her mouth said
she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “There’s nothing in the kitchen that needs
to be done just this second.”
Gladys waved her away with a slight frown. “Don’t make a fuss. I’ve got a
schedule to keep. It’s Meatloaf Monday, you know, and if you start deviating
from your schedule, the next thing you know you’ll be eating spaghetti when you
should be eating shepherd’s pie. Puts your digestion in a tailspin. Plus, John
loves Meatloaf Monday.”
That last part was delivered in a wheeze that Gladys immediately found pitiful
and if it hadn’t rattled out of her and had come from someone else, Gladys
would’ve told that person to stop being such a stubborn fool and take a load
off. But Gladys was of the “Do as I say, not as I do” generation and she wasn’t
of a mind to change her ways at this juncture of her life.
“I doubt your precious John Murphy is going to keel over dead from a
digestion—what did you call it—tailspin? just because he didn’t get his Meatloaf
Monday. Now sit your rear in that chair and relax before you crumble to dust
right before my eyes and I have to clean up the mess.”
Gladys stared but a low snicker popped out of her mouth surprising them both. “I
see where the girls get their spunk,” she said and then in spite of her previous
declaration shuffled to the wide, comfy chair directly in front of the fireplace
and sank into it. She gestured at Renee impatiently. “So, come and keep me
company then if you’re going to make me sit here like the old lady that I am.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to sit on my duff while you do all the work
around here. If I’m going to be lazy the least you can do is help me pass the
time while I do it.”
Renee smiled and after putting another log on the fire, sat on the sofa and
tucked her legs up under her. “How long have you been making John meatloaf?”
“Since his mother died.”
Her smile faded and Gladys was sad for that. She had a beautiful smile when she
chose to show it. But Gladys appreciated her respect. Addie Murphy had been her
best friend. Even after all these years, the pain of her passing hadn’t
completely faded. “When Addie died those boys were so lost, especially Evan, and
John felt the pressure to keep everything together. This ranch was all they had,
all Addie had after that dirty rat husband of hers turned tail and ran leaving
them with a hill of debt and, well, meatloaf seemed the only comfort I could
offer them.”
Gladys happened to meet Renee’s gaze at an opportune moment and caught a
softening. It was probably not Renee’s intention to allow that small slip and it
caused Gladys to wonder. And because Gladys was known to dabble in business that
was none of her concern, she decided to put her arthritis to good use.
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t think I’ll be able to cook tonight. These old hands
are cramping pretty bad. It’s that darn storm that blew through here. Haven’t
been myself since. Rotten old bones.” She leveled a finger at Renee and shook it
at her playfully, saying, “Don’t get old. It stinks. Can you believe this old
body went white-water river rafting just a few years ago?”
Renee’s eyes widened and Gladys chuckled, loving the shock value of the
statement. “Yep. Went down the Colorado. It was Evan’s suggestion and damn if I
didn’t shock everyone and go and do it.” Gladys leaned in to whisper, “I think
everyone half expected me to land in the drink but no, I did quite well. Had the
time of my life. You should try it sometime. Evan can probably get you a
discount.”
Renee shuddered. “No thanks. I’m afraid of water. Now, tell me more about this
Meatloaf Monday business. Is it hard to make? Maybe I could use the recipe and
make it for you?”
Gladys smothered the triumphant grin. Young people nowadays were just too easy
to figure out. She sent a silent prayer to Addie if she was listening or
watching and asked for a little help in making things turn out right. Lord only
knew it was time for John to settle down and why waste a perfectly good
opportunity when it was staring everyone right in the face?

RENEE COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE WAS actually playing Betty Crocker but there was no
denying that it was her mouth that had offered and it was her standing before a
hot oven, worrying that John wouldn’t like it or that she’d somehow messed up
the recipe.
Well, it was meatloaf, she countered to the prattle in her head. How hard could
it be? Mash up some meat, throw in some bread crumbs, a little egg and season.
And then cook it to death. At least that was how she used to make meatloaf, but,
come to think of it, she’d never won any awards for anything that came out of
her oven.
So she was nervous. Understandably.
“Renee, that smells very good,” Taylor said, taking a break from her coloring
book to smile encouragingly at her mother. “It smells like Loafmeat Monday. How
come Grammy Stemming didn’t make it?”
“She wasn’t feeling well,” Renee answered, looking distractedly at Taylor, then
added, “Honey, think you might want to call me Mom now?”
Taylor thought for a moment and then said, “I will take it under
con-sid-err-ation. That’s what Mrs. H. says when we ask for something in class.”
“You’re sure using lots of big words these days,” Renee observed, smiling.
“Imagine what you’ll be saying after a full year of school. I might need a
dictionary to keep up with you.”
Taylor giggled and her eyes twinkled in a way that made Renee’s heart sing.
Suddenly Taylor looked quite serious, “So, Grammy Stemming makes smashed
potatoes to go with the meat. Did she show you how to make those, too? ’Cuz we
can’t have the meat without the potatoes, that’s what Mr. John says. He’s a
meat-and-potatoes kind of guy he says.”
Taylor’s statement dripped cute but the message Renee caught and processed in
her brain just made her blush. John was all man, that was for sure. It was
almost unfathomable that he was still single. Renee had to wonder what was wrong
with him that some woman hadn’t snatched him up long ago. She itched to know
more about him but there was never a truly opportune way to nonchalantly dig for
clues when the man rarely uttered more than a sentence or two. John Murphy
wasn’t what anyone could call verbose. She cleared her throat and smiled. “Of
course. You can’t have Meatloaf Monday without potatoes…that would be like cake
without ice cream, or pizza without cheese.”
Alexis piped in as she walked in from around the corner. “Or peanut butter
without jelly.”
Renee grinned, absurdly pleased that Alexis was playing along. “Right,” she
agreed. “So, the only question we need to answer is, red potato or russet?”
“Red, with the skins on,” Alexis said. “I mean, that’s how Grammy Stemming made
them and they tasted pretty good.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Renee rummaged around for the potatoes and found them with a little help from
Taylor who seemed to know her way around quite well and tried using the
relatively mellow moment with her girls to start getting to know them again. The
problem was, each time a question popped into her brain, she quickly discarded
it for fear that it would come out wrong or Alexis might hightail it out of the
room. She bit her lip. The silence grew and Renee started to feel the walls
close in until Taylor began chirping as if she hadn’t noticed the awkward
moment.
“How come we don’t have a grammy?”
“Excuse me?” Renee stammered, as the total offhand delivery of the question
caught her off guard. “What do you mean? You have a grandmother.”
“Where?”
“Uh…” Renee stalled, suddenly wishing for a slice of that god-awful silence
again, yet when she noted Alexis watching her keenly for a reaction, she cleared
her throat and opted for a vague version of the truth. “Well, you’ve met your
grandma Irene, uh, once I think, but you’re probably too young to remember and
as far as your dad’s mother…oh, goodness, she died a while before you were
born.”
“Why isn’t our grandma Irene around much? Doesn’t she like us?”
Renee tried a disarming grin but her middle child’s innocent question struck a
sour chord and made Renee flinch. “Of course she does.” That’s a lie. A big fat
one at that but she wasn’t about to tell a child that her grandmother was as
cold as a Michigan winter when it came to her only daughter and any of her
issue. Renee remembered the phone call she’d placed when Alexis was born and how
badly it had gone down. Just one more shitty memory she’d tried to erase with
plenty of booze. She scrubbed her hands down the apron she’d found hanging in
the broom closet and forced a smile. “So who’s going to help me with these
potatoes?”
Alexis’s sharp gaze caught the fidgety movement and Renee had to fight the urge
to shove her hands in her pockets to hide them. She smiled Alexis’s way and
tried to communicate without words that she’d changed. But the moment was lost.
Alexis slid from the chair and scooped Chloe along with her. Renee longed to
chase after her but Taylor was still beside her, chattering like a magpie,
totally oblivious to the emotional tide that had just swept out, and Renee clung
to her middle daughter’s open nature as if her life depended on it because in a
way…it did.

JOHN HADN’T EXPECTED RENEE to roll up her sleeves and hit the kitchen but he
wasn’t about to complain. One might think that after so many years of Meatloaf
Monday a guy might get sick of it but he truly found comfort in the constant and
it wasn’t lost on him that Renee had tried to accommodate him.
The girls had cleared the dinner plates and Alexis was running the bath for her
sisters. It was just him and Renee left in the room. He ought to say something
nice. He ought to…stop his eyes from sinking to the midlevel of her fuzzy
sweater and taking up residence. Glancing away, he absently tapped the table
with his knuckles. Clearing his throat, he offered a gruff, “Dinner was good.”
She looked up and gave a short smile. “Thanks.” Then shrugged. “Taylor was a big
help. She must love spending time with Gladys or something because that girl
certainly knows her way around a kitchen. Not sure how I feel about that,” she
admitted with a slight frown.
“What’s wrong with a girl being at home in the kitchen?”
“Because it gives men the wrong idea.”
Wrong idea? His mother had been a whiz in the kitchen. That was a bad thing?
“I’m not following you.”
“Forget it.”
“Tell me.”
“I just don’t want my girls to think all they’re good for is to be stuck in the
kitchen, you know? They’re smart girls. They deserve better. I want them to go
to college and make something of themselves.”
“Did you go to college?”
“No.” She looked away but not before John caught the stark look of regret in her
stare. It pulled and poked at the soft side of his underbelly. He shifted in his
chair as if to escape but there was no relief. She continued, “Which is why I
want better for my girls than just being a housewife, stuck in the kitchen with
a passel of kids hanging off them.”
He startled at the bleak and insulting view she’d just shared of her opinion on
what he’d considered the greatest gift a woman could give to her children and
couldn’t stop the stiff comment that followed. “My mother was a housewife.”
Guilt flashed in her expression and she lifted her shoulder in apology. “I’m not
putting down anyone who chooses that life. I just don’t want that for my girls.”
“And what if it makes them happy?”
“It wouldn’t.” Her answer was short and vehement. She recovered with a subtle
smile but her shoulders were tense. If he wasn’t so riled at her comment he
might be tempted to ease the knots out of the soft flesh but as it was he wanted
to tell her to get off her high horse. And while she was at it, why didn’t she
pull out the stick that was wedged up her rear.
“There’s nothing wrong with a woman who wants to spend time raising her kids
right. But if you’re the kind of woman who would rather dump her kids off at day
care and forget about them for a good eight or nine hours a day that’s your own
business, but don’t go judging others on their choices because they’re different
than yours. And your girls should be free to make their own choices even if it
doesn’t cotton to what you want them to do with their lives.”
Her smile was wintry. “How nice of you to go all parental when you’ve never had
any children of your own. Perhaps you’d like to write a book on the subject? I’m
sure it’ll be a bestseller.”
What a sassy mouth on this one. All piss and vinegar as Gladys would say. He
leaned back in the chair and regarded her with shrewd objectivity. “Your mom a
career-type?”
“She was an image-is-everything type,” she answered, probably unaware that she
had visibly tensed. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “Just wondering. Seems you’re pretty sensitive about certain
things. You and your mom don’t get along?”
She barked a short laugh as if the question wasn’t worth answering because the
answer had to be patently obvious but the sound was ragged and tattered around
the edges to John’s ears. “Must be my lucky day. First Taylor, now you. Is this
some kind of conspiracy to get me to work through my feelings about my mom?
Look, I’m over it. To answer your question, no, me and the mom don’t get along
so well. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I was on fire she wouldn’t waste a drop of
spit to put it out.”
He whistled low and deep. That was pretty hard-core. John understood that kind
of animosity. It was about the same way he felt about his own father. “What
happened between you two?”
“It doesn’t matter. It was so long ago I’m not even sure I remember.”
“I think you remember just fine.”
She shot him a dark look. “Maybe I do. Too bad for you, I don’t feel like
walking down memory lane.”
“Fair enough.”
“Really. Just like that. First you’re grilling me and now you’re fine with
letting it go?”
He shrugged. “Sure. You don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t interest me
enough to coax it out of you.”
“Aren’t you a charmer,” she said drily and he chuckled in spite of the vague
insult she’d just thrown his way but he couldn’t dispute it. He was no good at
this talking shit. The woman didn’t want to talk about why she was so sensitive
about her mom, it was none of his business.
“That’s me. Grade A Choice.”
He got up, ready to leave the faintly aggressive tension between them behind,
but she cocked her head to the side and regarded him as if he were suddenly
someone who fascinated her.
“Why don’t you wear a cowboy hat?”
He paused and returned the assessing stare as he countered, “Why don’t you like
housewives?”
“I asked you first.”
He shrugged. “I’m not a cowboy. I just work with horses. There’s a difference.”
He pinned her with a look. “Your turn.”
She inhaled sharply and for a split second he was sure she was going to turn
tail and run but she didn’t. Instead she answered with an unwavering but
undeniably sad stare.
“Because I never wanted to be one but somehow that’s where I ended up.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
RENEE SLID INTO BED AND WINCED as the cold blankets shocked her skin. She’d left
a fire burning in her small woodstove but sometimes the heat didn’t make it to
the tiny bedroom and it felt like she was sleeping on a block of ice until her
own body heat started to kick in.
What an odd man, she mused as scenes from dinner replayed in her head. He was an
enigma. Just when she thought she knew what he was about, he went and turned her
assumptions upside down, leaving her to gape in confusion. She sensed something
between them. Something that ran hot one minute and cold the next. Wasn’t that a
bad thing? If she were made of glass such rapid change in temperature would
surely cause her to shatter. Well, thank her lucky stars she wasn’t made of
glass, she thought wryly. One thing was for sure, he was frightfully good at
reading people. Or maybe he was just good at reading her. Now that was a scary
thought.
What had she been thinking? Meatloaf Monday. How ridiculous. She should’ve left
him to fend for himself. Damn, if she hadn’t always had a soft spot for the weak
and vulnerable. Um, yeah. Who was she trying to call weak and vulnerable?
Certainly not John Murphy. Cornbread farm boys with wicked smiles did not grow
up to be weak or vulnerable. They grew up to be men who filled doorways, with
thick roping muscles honed from years of working with their hands, and quick,
sharp gazes that saw through piles of bullshit to the truth underneath.
Gazes that lingered and caressed the tingling flesh under your sweater until
your nipples peaked and ached and all but poked out of your bra for need of
someone to put their big strong hands all over them.
She shuddered and moaned as she gave her pillow a sound whack for even allowing
her mind to wander into such dangerous pastures—uh, territory!—even her
metaphors were going country. Good grief. Was it contagious?
Rolling to her stomach, she tried quieting her mind with deep breathing
exercises and for a while it worked. Slowly her mind emptied of everything
involving John and his big, strong man-hands and what she wanted him to do with
them, and she focused on the calm, serene landscape of her favorite place—a
picture of a waterfall in Maui, a place she’d never been but the image always
soothed her—and slowly drifted into peaceful slumber.
She wasn’t sure why her eyelids fluttered open; the darkness told her sunrise
was still hours away, but seconds later she caught the faint but undeniable
sound of a child screaming inside the house.
Kicking herself free from the tangle of blankets, she ran shoeless and fumbling
in the dark, toward the sound, mindless of the rocks that bruised her heels and
the bitter cold that froze her exposed skin. All that mattered was getting to
her children.

ALEXIS HELD CHLOE CLOSE, rocking her in spite of her sister’s frantic attempts
to get away from the invisible hands that tried to hurt her. Alexis’s heart felt
ready to jump out of her chest as tears filled her eyes but she didn’t let go.
She just kept murmuring in a soft, soothing voice that everything was okay and
that no one was going to get her.
Taylor huddled against the headboard, her thumb popped in her mouth like she
always did when she was scared, scrambled from the bed and catapulted herself
into John’s arms the minute he appeared in the doorway, eyes bleary but
searching for the cause of Chloe’s fear.
Renee nearly crashed into him as she pounded down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” she asked, breathless, moving toward the bed until Alexis
shook her head vehemently. Hurt crossed her mother’s features but she stopped.
“What’s wrong with Chloe?”
“She gets nightmares sometimes,” Alexis answered, pulling Chloe closer even as
the baby shook and shivered. “I can take care of her. You can go back to bed.”
Taylor wrapped her arms around John’s neck all the more tightly. Her voice
watery and frightened. “It’s Daddy’s fault, Mr. John. It’s all his fault Chloe
is so scared at night.”
Renee looked at Taylor, confusion and fear crossing her features. For a moment,
Alexis was tempted to let Renee take over just so Renee could feel Chloe shake
in her arms but instead her fingers tightened around her little sister and hoped
they’d all just go away. “Just go back to bed. I’ll handle it.”
Renee turned to John and murmured something and he nodded reluctantly, taking
Taylor with him. Renee approached the bed. Alexis scowled. “I said, you can go.”
Renee shook her head and took a seat beside them. Alexis felt tears stinging her
eyes and tightened her grip on Chloe. “I can do it,” she insisted. “I’ve been
the one here for her. Not you.”
“I know,” Renee acknowledged quietly. “What do we do to help Chloe?”
Surprised to be asked, Alexis answered haltingly, “She’s not awake when she does
this and if you try to wake her up too fast she just starts screaming and
kicking. I just hold her real tight and tell her it’s okay. She seems to like
that.”
Renee nodded, tears filling her eyes. “How long has this been happening?”
“Since Daddy started locking her in the closet with the spiders and the other
bugs.”
“Your daddy…he did that?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“That’s not all,” Alexis said. “He—”
“I understand,” Renee cut in, her eyes filling again.
“No, you don’t,” Alexis whispered, anger seeping inside her, hot and mean. Chloe
whimpered and she loosened her hold until Chloe’s breathing returned to normal.
“Because if you did…you never would’ve left us behind. Especially Chloe.”
And then the tears she swore she’d never let her mother see, started to pour out
of her eyes in a way she couldn’t control and it made her all the more angry.
“Please get out. We don’t need you.”
“Alexis—”
“Get out,” she cried and her mother drew back. The hurt in her expression giving
Alexis no joy even though she’d thought it would. She choked on her next words.
“Just leave. Please.”

RENEE FORCED HER FEET TO MOVE. This was not the time to press the issue although
she yearned to take her baby in her arms and cuddle her as she should. She
paused at the doorway and saw Alexis settle into the bed with Chloe lying
against her small chest, her fingers clutching Alexis’s forearm.
Swallowing a toxic mixture of grief, fear and guilt that had congealed in her
throat, she started to return to the guesthouse when she saw John talking with
Taylor in a low voice in the living room. Not wanting to be seen, Renee pulled
into the shadows and listened intently.
“My daddy is a bad man, isn’t he?” Taylor asked, the sadness in her tone
cracking Renee’s heart for the sorrow in it. “Why was he so mean? Are we bad
girls?”
“Of course not,” John answered softly. “Why would you say that?”
Taylor hiccupped. “Because maybe if we were better, Daddy wouldn’t have been so
mad and Renee wouldn’t have left. And then, maybe Daddy wouldn’t have been so
mean to Chloe. Chloe’s not a bad girl, even if Daddy said she was. I don’t
believe him and neither does Alexis. Do you think Renee thinks Chloe is bad?
Sometimes she pees the bed but she doesn’t mean to. She just forgets and has an
accident. You would never spank Chloe for having an accident, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t and I don’t think your mom would, either.”
“You don’t?”
There was a long pause and then he answered solemnly, “No, I don’t.”
His answer pierced Renee’s chest in an unexpected manner. She wasn’t accustomed
to others being in her corner, much less a man who made it no secret of how he’d
felt about her from the very beginning.
Renee melted against the shadows, wishing she could dissolve into a spray of
mist and just disappear so that she could escape the awful feeling crushing her.
Tears stung her eyes. What the hell did you do to our babies, Jason? He only
hurt your baby, a voice whispered. Chloe was no blood relation to him but he’d
been raising her as his own. For all intents and purposes, Chloe looked at Jason
as her daddy. And yet, he’d done unspeakable things to her. In essence, she’d
left her baby in the hands of a monster. Biting her lip hard to keep it from
trembling, she slipped out the back door unnoticed.

THE NEXT MORNING, JOHN ROSE and went about his chores with Taylor beside him.
Last night’s excitement all but forgotten, she chattered amiably to the horses
as she gave them each a good scoopful of oats while he busied himself with
throwing out the hay and filling the giant buckets with fresh water for the day.
While Taylor may have been fresh-eyed, John’s mind was haunted by the stricken
expression frozen on Renee’s face after Alexis had tossed her out of the room.
He’d been tempted to help smooth things over but his hands had been full with
Taylor and he figured Alexis and Renee had to start working things out on their
own. To his mind, that wasn’t going too well. For too long Alexis had been
acting like a surrogate mom and didn’t know how to let go of the reins, so to
speak, and Renee, too riddled with guilt and whatnot, couldn’t just pull forward
and assert her authority.
It was a pickle—one he shouldn’t give a whole hill of beans about, either, but
damn if he wasn’t getting a headache over the predicament.
“You about done over there, half pint?” he called out to Taylor and she nodded,
running over to return the oat pail to its peg on the wall before skipping to
his side. “Did you double check the gate latches?” he asked.
“Yep. Have you figured out how you’re gonna get Vixen to stop stomping on your
helpers?” she asked, an excited gleam in her eye. “Yesterday, I thought she was
going to stomp Mr. Tony to death! She was so mad that he was trying to come into
her stall.”
“Yes, she was. And, no, I haven’t figured that one out yet. She’s the toughest
horse I’ve ever worked with.”
“Someone was mean to her, huh?” Taylor asked, her eyes solemn. “That’s why she
don’t like no one. What happens if she never likes no one? Will you keep her
forever here at the ranch?”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t actually belong to me, half pint,” John said,
his mouth twisting sadly. “Her owner is paying me to gentle her so that he can
ride her.”
“I don’t think Vixen would like that very much,” Taylor said, shaking her head
like a miniature version of himself. He would’ve laughed except the subject
matter was rather serious. Vixen’s fate was dire if he couldn’t get her on the
right track. Her owner wasn’t known for his compassion. He’d bought Vixen
because she was beautiful with solid lines and a proud disposition but he hadn’t
listened when the seller had tried to tell him that she wasn’t no kiddie pony.
Now, she was so riled and cantankerous, if John couldn’t get her under control,
she was bound for the glue factory. And that was a crying shame, one that he
tried not to think about. Returning his attention to Taylor he ruffled her blond
mop, chuckling as he said, “Is that so? Well, we’ll do our best with Vixen.
Until then, it’s school for you. Run on and go see if your sister is awake yet.”
“Yessir, Mr. John!” Taylor saluted John with a lopsided grin and took off
running for the house, her blond hair fluttering behind her like a kite tail,
tugging a grin from his lips before he could stop it. If he’d ever seen fit to
settle down and raise a family he knew he would’ve wanted a daughter just like
that kid. He couldn’t imagine walking away from his kids, not even if his life
depended on it.

RENEE PEEKED IN ON GLADYS, anxious for something to do, and was surprised when
she saw the old gal up and moving around.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” she asked, a frown creasing her forehead.
“You look pale.”
“Takes more than a fever and some sore bones to keep me down. Besides, I
promised Chloe chocolate chip cookies and there’s no sense in lying down when
there’s stuff to be done. Right?”
“I suppose,” Renee said, feeling worlds from this stout old lady. Back when she
and Jason were still married they used to spend whole days doing nothing except
making beer runs. The house had been a pigsty, beer cans overflowing the small
plastic garbage can, and pizza boxes littering the kitchen because neither one
of them could do much more than speed dial with any efficiency. Out of nowhere
her cheeks started to burn for her own laziness. She’d been raised differently
and so had Jason for that matter but it hadn’t mattered. They’d both acted
slovenly.
“Something on your mind?” Gladys inquired when she noted Renee had stopped
folding the blanket in her hand and it was hanging limp from her fingertips.
Gladys gestured and Renee snapped to attention with a flustered apology but
Gladys waved it away. “No need. You know, I think we ought to get to know each
other better. Seems you’re not the person I might’ve thought you were.”
Renee startled. “What do you mean?”
Gladys shrugged, making no excuses. “My opinion of you was pretty low until
recently. I know it’s not right but the first time I met you I thought to
myself, ‘Now there’s a flighty, snooty slip of a girl’ and then of course, if
you were shacking up with Jason you couldn’t be worth all that much because
frankly, that boy was never going to amount to much, bless my sister’s heart for
never giving up on him.” Renee stared, unsure if she should be offended or not
but Gladys didn’t seem to mind and kept talking. “I suspect you two have been
living off the inheritance my sister left for you when she died?”
There was no sense in denying it. The money—not that thirty-five thousand
dollars was a lot in the big scheme of things—had allowed them to party
unchecked, unhindered by jobs or other inconsequential things, and gloss over
the major problems in their marriage. The burn in her cheeks flared bright as
she nodded and her throat seemed to choke off her voice. “We were going to buy a
house,” she said. “But it never worked out.”
Gladys continued to tidy the room but the ensuing silence made Renee wish she’d
bypassed the old woman’s room. “We made a lot of mistakes,” she admitted after a
long moment. Gladys glanced up and seemed to nod in agreement. “But I’m trying
not to live in the past. If I keep looking backward I’ll go crazy. It’s bad
enough that I can hardly get near Chloe because Alexis blames me for everything
that happened after I left, and the guilt and shame is enough to kill me
already. I don’t need to overload myself with the stupid mistakes Jason and I
made with his inheritance. I feel bad enough.”
“You know…I believe you.”
Renee met Gladys’s steady gaze and felt tears well in her eyes but she wasn’t
willing to trust so simple a declaration. How could Gladys feel anything but
disgust for her when she’d clearly been a terrible mother to her three children,
abandoning them with a man who was not fit to raise a dog? “Is that so?” she
said, unable to keep the mocking tone from her voice. “And why is that? I seem
to recall you saying that you didn’t think much of me when we first met.”
“True enough. But I’ve seen the heartbreak in your eyes over what your girls
have been through and I don’t believe you ever meant to hurt them or put them in
harm’s way. I know Jason didn’t start out a good-for-nothing. It was a process
of evolution. I blame the drugs.”
“Oh…” Renee whispered, cringing that Gladys knew. “How’d you…”
“A person doesn’t blow through the kind of money you two were blowing without a
little help. He called me a few times looking for money. I turned him down. I
knew it wasn’t going to help things. I told him to get a job and earn an honest
wage. He hung up on me. That was the last time I heard from him until the night
he dropped off the girls. I hardly recognized him. He’d always been on the thin
side but he looked no more than skin and bones. A ghost in ripped and faded
jeans with hollowed out eyes. You don’t get like that unless you’re doing
something terrible to your body.” Then Gladys pinned her with a hard look. “The
question is…were you doing drugs, too, Renee?”
It was an honest question and Renee tried hard not to bristle but it was
difficult to allow another person to poke around in your personal business
without getting at least a little defensive. She swallowed hard before
answering. “No. I never did that…but I am…an alcoholic, which is no better…no
worse.”
“You go to meetings?” Gladys asked.
“Yes. Every Tuesday evening, even when I was on the road. I’d grab a local
newspaper, the listings are usually in the community events section. Although,
to be honest, I don’t attend the Emmett’s Mill meetings. I’ve been going to
Coldwater.”
“Afraid people are going to judge you.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Smart. It’s hard to make a fresh start with everyone knowing when you’ve fallen
and skinned your knee.”
Renee nodded, grateful for the woman’s understanding, though why she cared, she
hadn’t a clue. She suspected it had something to do with her ragged emotional
state but it was a relief not to have to be on guard for the moment. “I do want
a fresh start,” Renee said, unshed tears filling her eyes. “I just don’t know
how to go about it.”
Gladys chuckled and patted her arm. “Well, I believe I can help in that
department. But first, we bake. Chloe is getting her chocolate chip cookies
today because a promise is a promise. Don’t you agree?”
Renee thought of the string of broken promises she’d left behind in a trail of
failures throughout her life but in her mind she heard Chloe’s terrified shrieks
and it gave her strength. She gave a resolute nod. “Yes,” she said, making the
answer a solemn vow inside her heart. No more broken promises…

LATER THAT DAY, AS JOHN WAS picking up Alexis from school, he was thankful
Taylor was released at noon rather than at the same time as Alexis. He needed to
have a private talk with Alexis, but he wasn’t quite sure how to broach a
certain subject. He ought to just leave well enough alone and let Renee sort out
her own mess with her daughter but the fact was, he wasn’t doing it for Renee.
Alexis was hurting, even if she didn’t want anyone to know. Clearing his throat,
he rested his hand atop the steering wheel and drove at a slow clip as if he had
all the time in the world when in fact he had more to do at the ranch than he
possibly knew how to accommodate within a twenty-four-hour period. Mentally
assigning a few extra jobs to the “helpers” as Taylor liked to call them, he
drew a deep breath to begin but Alexis must’ve sensed something for she launched
enthusiastically into her day. John wasn’t fooled. Alexis was never this chatty.
“And so this girl, I don’t really know her name, she likes this guy, I don’t
really know his name, either, and they kept passing notes back and forth all day
and it was so annoying. Now that I’m back in school, I can’t really remember why
I wanted to return. I mean, all the kids care about are stupid things like iPods
and cell phones and who has the coolest clothes…it’s all so dumb and juvenile.”
“Juvenile?” He couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed. “That’s a pretty
sophisticated word for a nine-year-old.”
She leveled a stern look his way that nearly broke his heart for its misplaced
maturity and said, “Please. Now you’re just being dumb. I may be nine but I
can’t remember the last time I worried about anything so…” She searched for the
right words and came up frustrated. Seems as much as she might like it
otherwise, her vocabulary was still on the limited side. “Well, I don’t
know…stupid.”
He sighed. Alexis turned to glower out the window and watch the scenery pass
them by. He was tempted to just let the silence continue but he knew that wasn’t
the prudent thing to do, especially when they were dealing with such a sensitive
subject. “I need your help, Alexis,” he started, risking a quick glance her way
to gauge her reaction. He wasn’t disappointed, her head tilted subtly indicating
she was listening. “I think Chloe and Taylor could benefit from talking to
someone—you know like a counselor who specializes in traumatized children—after
everything they’ve been through. What do you think about that?”
At the mention of her sisters she went into protective mode. It took a long
moment before she answered. “I don’t know…maybe it might be good. Especially for
Chloe,” she admitted.
“That’s what I was thinking. But you know it might be good for you, too.”
She looked at him sharply, her fine-boned features narrowing in suspicion. “Why
me? There’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“That’s where our opinions differ. You’re pretty mad at your mom. I think it
might help to talk to someone about it.”
She snorted. “How’s that supposed to help? Is this her idea? Did she put you up
to this?”
He shook his head solemnly. “No. The blame falls squarely on my shoulders.”
Alexis turned away, her gaze finding the scenery again. “Well, I don’t want to.
Taylor and Chloe can go. I don’t need it. Just send Renee away and everything
will be fine. I can take care of my sisters and you. We don’t need her, anyway.
I can’t believe I actually told her she should marry you.” She laughed, but that
sound coming out of her small mouth was harsh and unforgiving, and John had his
answer even if it wasn’t something she was going to agree with. “She should just
leave. Everyone would be happier.”
“You think so?” he asked, though he knew the opposite to be true simply by the
sad quiver in her stiff upper lip. “Well, we’ll have to see what happens. In the
meantime, I think you ought to consider what I said.”
She shot him a dark glare but remained quiet. Something told him her silence
wasn’t voluntary. He had a feeling if she’d tried to say anything the tremble in
her voice would reveal far more than she was comfortable sharing.
He knew that anger, how it mixed with fear and longing to jumble a young mind.
As often as he’d gone to bed every night hating his father for leaving like the
coward he was, there were times when he was ashamed to admit he would’ve done
anything to be relieved of the burden he carried for his mom and brother. He
rubbed his chin absently. He’d been a teenager when their dad flew the coop. It
was a lifetime ago but he remembered the anger…the same anger he felt radiating
from the little girl across the seat from him. But there was something else he
remembered and this part was probably the same thing that was tripping Alexis
up, too—as much as he’d hated his father, a part of him had still loved him.
Just like Alexis loved her mother. No matter how hard she tried not to.

RENEE WENT VERY STILL. “You think my girls need…professional help?”
Badmotherbadmotherbadmother—the damning words were all she heard in her head no
matter how she tried to remain calm and rational. Her shoulders tensed but she
tried a disarming smile as she continued to clean the kitchen after that night’s
dinner. “Well, maybe when we get settled somewhere else I’ll look into it,” she
offered with a shrug. “But for now…I think we all have our hands full with just
getting through this weird custody…uh, situation.”
“You won’t.” His knowing comment almost made her drop the bowl in her hand.
Carefully placing it on the counter, she turned to face him. His tanned face,
creased at the corners of his eyes from too much time spent in the sun, scanned
her own and she felt ridiculously exposed. The man saw too much and that was
dangerous.
He continued softly, “You’re just saying what you think I want to hear.”
“So? What difference does it make? My girls are not your concern. I appreciate
your suggestion but I don’t agree with you. All my girls need is to get out of
here and back to a normal life.”
He stood abruptly. “A normal life? Is that what they had with you?”
God, no, but she wasn’t going to admit to that. It was going to be different
this time around. She lifted her chin. “I’m their family. Not you. I decide what
they need. And what they need is something less…uncertain.”
He expelled a short, annoyed breath. “All you know is uncertainty. If you don’t
know what it’s like to be stable how are you supposed to give it to the girls?
What’s your plan if you get custody back? What then? Just pack them in the car,
close your eyes and let your finger drop on a map?”
“And what if I did?” She shot back, hating that he’d struck a raw, very tender
nerve. She didn’t know where they would go but at least they’d be together and
that’s what counted, right? She threw the dish towel to the counter and closed
the distance between them. “And what do you mean if I get custody back? It’s a
matter of time before the judge comes to his senses and I get my girls.”
“You’re not going to drag those girls around while you try to figure out what to
be when you grow up. They have stability here. And you’re ignoring a very
serious issue because of your own damn insecurities.”
She gasped and took a faltering step backward, her eyes stinging as surely as if
he’d backhanded her. “How dare—”
With the quick movement of a rattler striking, he jerked her to him, his grasp
rough but his eyes held a tender caress that stopped the breath in her chest.
“Woman, stop thinking of only yourself. Those girls need you to be their
mama…not their friend or buddy. And they need professional help.” He held her
tightly, his mouth compressed to a hard line but her stomach twisted in
confusion when her own lips parted as if in invitation. He pulled away slowly.
“They need their mama to do what’s right for them. Even if it doesn’t feel good
and damn near breaks your heart to do it.”
The tears that sprang to her eyes a second ago slipped down her cheeks and she
swallowed convulsively. “What if the counselor makes them hate me even more? I
left them. What kind of mother am I?” Self-loathing curdled in her stomach and
her mouth suddenly hungered for the smooth, liquid anesthetic of a shot of Jack
Daniel’s. For a split second, she could nearly taste it at the back of her
throat. Horrified, she sprang from John’s arms and immediately put a good
distance between them. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
Can’t feel anything for you. Can’t let anyone else into my girls’ heads. Can’t
forgive myself for leaving them in that situation. Oh, God…can’t deal…
“Renee?” John’s soft voice pierced her heart clean through and she took a step
back as he took one forward. “Wait…”
She put her hands up, stopping him with a whisper. “No.” Shaking her head, she
backed away. She had to get away from him, from the feeling in her chest, from
the ache in her heart. It was too much.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS John and Renee kept their distance from one another, both
preferring to keep what had happened between them locked in the privacy of their
memories. They made polite, stilted conversation for the girls’ sake until John
felt ready to jump out of his skin.
Sitting across from her at the dinner table, Gladys seated to his left while the
girls filled the rest of the empty seats around them, John wondered if this was
what hell felt like.
Gladys tucked into her lasagna with gusto, proving that something as small as
surgery couldn’t put a damper on her appetite, and John pretended not to notice
the furtive glances Renee sent his way when she thought he wasn’t paying
attention. What a right mess he’d made of things, he groused silently, shoveling
a large bite into his mouth before he was tempted to let the words percolating
in his brain fly. He didn’t know much about recovery or the process or even what
it entailed aside from avoiding whatever it was that put you in that situation
in the first place, but he did know that Renee was acting like a fool about this
counselor business. Now was no time to start acting selfish but that’s exactly
what she was doing.
“John? Did you hear me?” Gladys broke into his turbulent thoughts. She frowned.
“You’re as friendly as a winter bear right now. What’s got you all twisted up
tonight?”
He shot an accusatory glare Renee’s way but his gaze slid away before Gladys
could call him on it. He shook his head and stuffed another bite in his mouth,
speaking around the cheese burning his tongue, “Nothing. Just hungry.”
Gladys eyed him speculatively but let it go for Taylor, as usual, filled the
silence with her chatter until she’d exhausted all her pent-up news for the day.
Chloe giggled as Taylor slumped against her chair with a melodramatic sigh and
declared, “Yep. Mrs. H. says learnin’ is hard work and it must be true ’cuz I’m
exhausted. May I be excused, Mr. John?” She let loose a yawn and rubbed her
bleary eyes. “I think I better hit the haysack.”
“It’s hit the hay, dumb-dumb,” Alexis muttered, earning a frown from Renee that
she completely ignored as John nodded. “C’mon, I’ll get your bath ready.”
Chloe and Taylor slid from their chairs ready to follow their sister when Renee
stood and intervened. “I’ll get their baths ready, Alexis. You go ahead and
finish your homework.”
“I’ll do it after their baths.”
Renee placed her napkin down with a gentle, restrained movement that mirrored
the subtle pull of her lips as she tried asserting her authority again. “No. I
want to help the girls. Go on. Please don’t argue with me.”
Alexis looked to John or Gladys for help and when neither seemed ready to back
her up, she lifted her chin and threw a “whatever” over her shoulder before
disappearing from the room in an angry huff.
“Preteens,” Gladys quipped as if teenage hormones were to blame for Alexis’s
attitude. She helped herself to another garlic bread as she said cheerfully,
“Well, look at the bright side, you only have seven more years before she
returns to normal. Not so bad if you ask me. Although I never had kids of my own
so who am I to judge?”
Gladys chuckled at her statement and took a big bite.
“Maybe you ought to go easy on the bread and butter, Gladys,” John said, more
than a little alarmed at the way Gladys was eating without regard to her
doctor’s orders. “You trying to clog another artery?”
“You hush. I don’t tell you how to eat now do I?”
“I didn’t have a triple bypass,” he commented wryly, watching as Renee put her
plate away and walked from the room with the little girls’ hands tucked into her
own. She wore a smile but John sensed the pain it was hiding. The situation with
Alexis was killing her but she was too damn stubborn to ask for help. Even from
a professional.
As soon as Renee was out of earshot Gladys dropped the innocent chatter and
pinned John with a look that made him squirm in spite of the fact that he was a
grown adult.
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a line of bullshit if I ever heard one. I may be old but I’m not blind.
There’s definitely something going on and I want to know what it is.”
He stood and took his and Gladys’s plate to the sink even as she protested that
she wasn’t finished. He arched one brow at her. “I’m not going to watch you put
yourself into an early grave with a second helping of lasagna.”
“Fine. But you’re not going to stop me from having a cookie. Bring me one, if
you please.”
He sighed and selected the smallest on the plate. Handing it to her, he leaned
against the counter. “I think Renee and the girls should see a counselor,” he
admitted slowly, looking up to catch Gladys’s reaction. Hell, maybe Renee was
right and he ought to leave well enough alone between them but as Gladys, a
woman he trusted above all others nodded her head in understanding, he felt a
weight drop from his shoulders. “What happened to them…it’s left its mark. I
think it’s more than Renee can handle.”
“Perhaps.”
Wait a minute…“What do you mean perhaps? I thought you agreed with me.”
“Johnny-boy, you always were a smart one but you have a lot to learn about how a
woman thinks, especially a mother.”
“What makes you say that?” He tried not to be offended but his ego felt a little
tweaked.
Gladys smoothed the crumbs from the surface of the oak table into her palm and
rose to deposit them into the trash. “You can’t possibly imagine the guilt that
woman is feeling about what her girls went through. From the outside looking in
it’s easy to assume that she’s being selfish for not wanting to send her girls
to a shrink. But think of things from her side of the door. Would you want
someone to know your private hurts and humiliations and be judged for them?”
“It’s not about her.” He wanted to snap but somehow kept his voice calm. “It’s
about the girls. They need help.”
“I don’t disagree with you. But she’s not ready to take that step with them and
it’ll have to be together or they’ll just get in each other’s way. She needs to
believe that she’s a good mother before she can let someone else come in and
start poking the tender spots. You understand?”
“Sort of,” he admitted. “So what should I do? I can’t just sit by and watch as
Chloe continues to scream at night and Taylor is terrified that her daddy is
going to show up and take them away and Alexis…she’s so angry. I don’t want her
to grow up with that inside her. It can warp your mind.”
Gladys’s warm gaze told him she understood that he spoke of something he knew
well and she loved him for his sacrifice. “I don’t want that for her,” he
finished quietly.
“I know. But you can’t make Renee be the person you want her to be unless she’s
ready to go there herself. Give her time. She’s scared and trying desperately to
make things right. Just help her get there.”
He didn’t know how to do something halfway. Either he was in or he was out. And
he knew there was no kidding himself that he was starting to think of Renee in
more ways than just the mother of Gladys’s wards. He was starting to think of
the girls as more than just temporary roommates. And a part of him hated it. His
life had been turned upside and inside out that rainy night and he didn’t know
how to make it right again. A sinking feeling in his gut told him that making it
right had nothing to do with emptying his house of his guests.
And he was man enough to admit that scared the shit out of him. He was a
bachelor for a reason. He was surly, cantankerous, a plain grouch on the best of
days. Animals were the only ones who didn’t seem to hold any of those traits
against him.
Yeah, but let’s be honest, when was the last time you felt satisfied with just a
one-way conversation held in the barn with a horse’s hoof between your palms?
It’s been awhile, he admitted to himself and bit back the sigh that wanted to
follow. That put him in a bit of a predicament that he didn’t know the answer to
but he knew it had Renee written all over it.

RENEE TUCKED HER YOUNGEST daughters into bed, trying not to let Alexis’s
attitude douse the joy that giving the girls their bath had created. Such a
simple thing but God, she’d missed it. Singing “Oh, I wish I were a little bar
of soap” with the girls as they giggled and splashed, washing their beautiful
blond hair and then gently combing out the snarls gave her a peace she hadn’t
felt in a long time. Except for the fact that Alexis refused to look at her and
when she did spear a glance her way, it was black with open resentment. Renee
couldn’t help but shrink away from that stark emotion, hating the echo of John’s
words in her memory.
She needs a counselor. So do you.
He was wrong. Her girls didn’t need a head doctor. Just time to see that she’d
changed. She risked a warm smile Alexis’s way and was instantly rebuffed as
Alexis turned, giving Renee her back.
“Alexis…” she whispered. “I love you.”
In return, Renee received silence. She swallowed and vowed not to give up.

ALEXIS SAT ACROSS FROM the woman at the table and nerves made her tummy ache.
The woman was from social services. She smiled a lot and scribbled notes on her
little pad but Alexis knew things were not going well. At least not by Alexis’s
way of thinking. Renee was winning. At this rate, she’d have them packed up and
gone within the hour if this kept up and Alexis was not going anywhere with her
mother.
“Alexis, how are you enjoying your new school?” she asked.
“I love it,” she answered eagerly, putting as much emphasis on the words as
possible. Shooting Renee a dark look she added, “It’s a better school than any
of the schools I’ve ever been to.”
“Oh? Have you been in a lot of schools?” she asked.
Alexis nodded. “Oh, yes. My parents didn’t like to stick around one place too
long. I guess right about when the bill collectors started calling is when we’d
split. Isn’t that right, Renee?” She looked innocently at her mother who was
gaping at her in shock. Take that and choke on it, she thought smugly.
Renee colored and took a moment to clear her throat before defending herself.
“We made a few mistakes here and there but I’m so glad Alexis has finally found
a school she enjoys. That’s all that matters.”
Ms. Thin As A Pencil scribbled something down and Alexis desperately wanted to
read what she’d written. Hopefully, it was something along the lines of
“Terrible mother. Give permanent custody to John Murphy.” But Alexis was pretty
sure that wasn’t going to happen without a little nudging, which she was plenty
happy to provide.
“Do you always call your mother by her name?”
Renee jumped in before Alexis could answer. “Only recently. Things have been a
little bumpy between us but we’re working on it, aren’t we, sweetheart? Before
all this happened we were very close, Lexie and I. She was my little helper.”
Alexis ignored Renee and gave Ms. Social Services a sad nod. “Well, someone had
to pick up the booze bottles in the morning and get the babies breakfast ’cuz
she and Daddy sure as heck weren’t going to do it. Remember that time you slept
all day and Chloe got a really bad diaper rash ’cuz you let her sit in a poopy
diaper all day? I would’ve changed her but we were out of diapers.”
Renee paled and her mouth compressed to a fine, tight line, so much so that
Alexis wasn’t quite sure if she was going to be able to get the words out but
she did. Barely.
“Alexis, that’s enough. Ms. Nagle doesn’t want to hear about things that
happened in the past. She wants to hear about how well we’re all doing now.”
“You’re right. Things are so much better now that Daddy is gone and you’re no
longer our mother.” She turned to Ms. Nagle who was watching the scene unfold
with alarm and pleaded with the woman. “Don’t give us back to her. She doesn’t
want us. She just doesn’t want Mr. John to have us because she’s jealous that
we’re finally happy and she’s not. I hate her and if you send us back I will run
away and no one will never find me! I promise!”
Alexis spun on her heel and ran from the room, her heart slamming against her
chest like something out of a cartoon as she burst from the house and headed for
the open field behind the house. She ran until her leg muscles burned and her
lungs felt ready to cave in. It wasn’t until she’d collapsed in a heap on the
cold ground that she realized it wasn’t the wind stinging her cheeks but her
tears. Folding in on herself, she cried until she had nothing left and her heart
hurt and her guts felt sick.
She didn’t want to leave.

RENEE STARED AT THE PAPERWORK that had come in the mail and tried to comprehend
what she was reading. She looked up and thrust the paper in John’s hands. “Did
you have something to do with this?” she demanded, although a part of her knew
he didn’t but she needed someone to blame. He shook his head and for what it was
worth, he seemed apologetic.
“No, I didn’t but—”
“But of course you agree because it was your original idea in the first place,”
she said bitterly. “You win. Court ordered therapy for Alexis and myself to deal
with—” she snatched the paper from John’s hands “—Alexis’s issues with her
mother. It is my recommendation that the Dolling children remain in temporary
custody of Gladys Stemming until the successful completion of six weeks of
therapy. Further evaluation to follow.” She slapped the paper against her thigh.
“Six weeks!”
“First of all, calm down,” John instructed, but Renee wasn’t in the mood to
listen to anyone, least of all him. “You’re making a mountain—”
“Don’t say it,” Renee warned, her voice ending in an unattractive hiss. “Just
don’t. This is my life they’re playing with. Not yours. No one is suggesting
they root around in your head now are they?”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“Afraid?” she scoffed, yet her insides quivered. Everything! I’m afraid that
they’ll find that Alexis is right. That I’m a terrible mother who doesn’t
deserve three beautiful girls. She sniffed back a sudden wash of tears and
swallowed the wail that was building on a wall of hysteria. “I’m not afraid of
anything.”
“Good. Then you have nothing to lose by complying with the court’s
recommendation.” He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and for a heartbeat
Renee wished she could just fold herself into that solid warmth but she was
fairly spitting at him in her misplaced anger and she doubted he’d welcome the
attempt. Which, she realized, was better for the both of them.
“Glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” he said, though they both knew he was
mocking her because she was being irrational.
“Shut up,” she said.
“Grow up.”
Renee skewered him with a glower, which he matched. And then they both stalked
from the room. In opposite directions.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RENEE PERCHED GINGERLY on the edge of the soft sofa designed to make her feel
comfortable and fought the very real urge to bolt. Everything about the room
made her uneasy, from the bucolic Thomas Kinkade prints on the neutral, taupe
colored walls to the annoyingly distracting gurgle of the large water fountain
in the corner. It was like having Niagara Falls in the corner of the room. Renee
had never understood someone’s desire to have fountains large enough to—
“You don’t want to be here.”
Renee cut her a short look. Brilliant observation, Doc. What tipped you off?
Renee forced a short smile. “I’m fine. I just didn’t realize I should’ve brought
a life vest,” she muttered.
The doc gestured toward the fountain. “Does it bother you? I can turn it off.
Most of my clients find it soothing.”
“It’s loud.”
The woman chuckled and clicked a remote control sitting on the delicate, antique
table beside her. Silence filled the room. “Better?”
Not really. Better would be listening to Bob Seger on the CD player as I blast
out of this place. Renee shrugged. “Fine. Let’s get this party started.”
The slender woman sitting across from her in a sumptuous leather chair that
probably cost more than Renee’s entire wardrobe sighed softly as she shifted
position and smiled warmly. “All right then. You’re here because the court
believes you and your daughter could benefit from having someone to talk to.”
Renee bit her tongue to refrain from saying something caustic and instead nodded
her head.
“Well, first, I’d like to say I am not your enemy. I’m here to help. Your body
language says you’re holding in a lot of anger. Let’s see if we can’t identify
the source and help to dispel it so you don’t have to drag it around anymore.”
The brunette doctor gestured, adding with another smile, “So settle in and get
comfortable. You’re here for an hour. Might as well get the county’s money’s
worth.”
Renee sat back but the tension in her shoulders remained. The only kind of
sharing she did was at her AA meetings and only because everyone there was going
through the same issues. There was no judgment. Here—her gaze raked the
professional woman seated across from her, watching from behind delicate yet
devastatingly stylish designer rims—the doctor would certainly judge her once
she heard the facts. And frankly, Renee wasn’t interested in listening to one
more know-it-all tell her what a bad person she was. She already knew. “Listen,
Dr….” she took a quick look at the nameplate on the desk to the right
“…Phillips—”
“Please call me Lauren,” she broke in with another soft, doe-eyed expression
that immediately set Renee’s teeth on edge for its sweetness. The last thing
Renee needed was to feel some kind of false security with this woman.
“Dr. Phillips,” Renee repeated with a little frost just to get her point across.
“Let’s cut the crap. As far as I’m concerned you are the enemy. Maybe that’s not
fair but frankly, I don’t care. Because of some dingbat woman who clearly could
not tell that my daughter was playing a manipulative little game to get her way,
I’m another six weeks away from getting my kids and getting the hell out of this
place. And by place I mean both your professionally decorated office and this
stupid, little town where they make up the rules as they go along, and people
pay for legal services with a barter system, and it snows like a mother, and you
have to keep a fire going 24-7 if you don’t want to wake up with frostbite!”
Dr. Phillips, smile fixed to her lips as if it came with her outfit, scribbled
some notes, prompting Renee to ask, “What’d you just write?”
The woman just chuckled and despite the soft nature of the sound, Renee got the
distinct impression she’d just screwed herself again. When Dr. Phillips answered
with a sigh, “I think we’re going to need more than six weeks,” Renee let loose
with a juicy curse word that she rarely used but damn, it felt good to say it.
“All right then. Let’s begin, shall we? Tell me about your childhood…”
Oh, goody. A trip down memory lane. My favorite.
Renee closed her eyes and wished the earth would swallow her whole.

JOHN DIDN’T HIDE HIS OPINION of the man standing before him, but he did bite
back the names he wanted to call him since he knew Taylor was watching the whole
scene from the stables.
“You’ve had her for nigh three weeks. What’s the holdup? Aren’t you supposed to
be the best? That seems plenty time to break one stubborn horse.”
John shifted his position just in time to avoid the disgusting splatter from
Cutter Buford as he let loose a dirty stream of chewing tobacco juice.
“I told you, that isn’t an ordinary horse. She’s high-spirited and smarter than
you. You knew that when you bought her. I’m making progress but I can’t make any
promises that she’s going to be the horse you want her to be just because you’re
paying me to gentle her. The fact is, she might always be squirrely.” John
refrained from adding that Cutter’s own mishandling of the horse had created a
whole slew of new problems. Because of Cutter, Vixen didn’t trust or like
anyone. He’d only just gotten to the point where she didn’t try and stomp him to
death when he entered the arena with her.
“Shit,” Cutter muttered, kicking at the hard, frozen dirt with the heel of his
expensive, shiny boots. John held back a snort. Cutter was the worst kind of
owner. Plenty of money to waste but not a lick of sense in his fool head to go
with it. Cutter—if that was even his name. Rumor had it his real name was
Ralph—was new to the area but was trying to build a reputation as a horseman. He
thought he knew horses. Sort of like the city boys who came to the country to
buy a ranchette and considered themselves cowboys because they owned a spotted
cattle dog, a horse and a few head of steer. You can buy a tractor but it don’t
mean you know how to drive it just because you hold the keys in your hand.
Cutter cleaned the wad from his cheek with the stub of his finger and flicked it
to the ground. When he spoke again, there were black flecks stuck in the
crevices of his teeth that made John want to puke. “I’ll give you two more
weeks. Then, I’m taking my horse.”
John nodded, but he wanted to stick his foot so far up Cutter’s ass he could see
the tops of his well-worn boots tickling the man’s tonsils so he didn’t trust
opening his mouth. Thankfully, Cutter didn’t seem to notice or care that John
was a man of little words. He was already returning to his monster diesel truck,
pausing only a minute to curse at the splash of mud dirtying the shiny chrome on
the wheel well. John smirked. That ain’t no working truck. Just as Cutter wasn’t
no horseman.
He felt a small hand curl into his own. He looked down and saw Taylor watching
Cutter leave with the same look of contempt on her young face as he felt in his
heart and it warmed him to the bone in spite of the cold. “I don’t like him,”
she stated firmly.
“Me neither.”
“Why can’t we just keep Vixen?”
John glanced down at Taylor and his heart contracted at the simple question.
Funny, it’s about the same as he was starting to feel about the girls. Why
couldn’t he just keep them? All of them? A voice whispered, knowing he was
thinking about Renee. He was attracted to her, that was for certain. Each night
he went to bed with an ache in his groin and his mind full of things that
shouldn’t be there but the woman was enough to age him prematurely. Stubborn,
mean-tempered, beautiful and dangerous. Hell…Vixen and Renee…sounded about the
same right about now. And, yeah, he wanted to keep them both.
Too bad, neither belonged to him.

RENEE RETURNED FROM HER therapy session and from running errands to find the
girls and Gladys gone. She wandered the house and still finding no one, she
reluctantly sought out John to learn where the girls were. She found him
brushing down that monster horse of his, talking low and soft as he did the job.
He was a handsome man, she’d give him that. Usually, cowboy types didn’t do much
for her, even though John said he wasn’t one. To her untrained eye he looked the
part, especially when he was handling that horse with such loving care. His
hands, large and callused, made slow and easy progress down the horse’s flank.
She imagined when he put his mind to something he didn’t rest until he did it
well. Her imagination obligingly provided a scenario of his hands touching her
in such a reverent manner and the tension from the day lessened, though she
would’ve thought being in such close proximity would’ve been less than soothing.
But even as she watched him, a part of her began to fill with languid warmth as
tendrils of longing curled around her senses and tightened uncomfortably. Of all
the men in the world…why him?
He finished and with a final pat on the horse’s neck, he exited the roomy stall
and startled at seeing her standing in the doorway. “How long you been there?”
“Not long,” she lied. “Where is everyone?”
“Gladys took the girls over to her place for a spell after school. Said she
needed to make sure her plants weren’t all dead. They’ll be back before supper.”
“Oh. Okay.” Alone in the house. Ridiculous temptation started to jabber indecent
suggestions in her head that frankly, made her wonder if she were suddenly
channeling a nymphomaniac.
“How’d your first therapy session go?” he asked, effectively dousing the fire
licking her insides as easily as a bucket of water killed a campfire. Noting her
sudden scowl, he chuckled. “That good, huh? Why am I not surprised?”
A grudging smile found its way to her lips in spite of her decision to return to
the house and she said, “Her name’s Lauren Phillips. Know her?”
“Nope. Contrary to what you may think, I don’t know everyone in Emmett’s Mill.”
“Just the important people. Like the sheriff. And the judge. And nearly everyone
else I’ve come into contact with since landing in this place.”
“True enough. So, what did you think of her?”
“I think she’s an impeccable dresser with questionable interior design tastes,”
Renee quipped.
“I mean what did you think of her as a therapist?” John asked with only a hint
of exasperation. “Do you think you’ll feel comfortable talking with her?”
Renee leveled her gaze at him. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable talking with
anyone about my past. She could be Mother Teresa and I’d still want to run for
the hills. Scratch that. I’m already in the hills. Stuck in the hills is more
like it, actually,” she muttered darkly.
“You don’t like it here, do you?”
“What’s not to like?” she shot back sarcastically. When he didn’t retort, she
softened only a little, saying with a shrug, “Well, it’s not my first choice. I
prefer places with a little less—” small-town prejudice, nosy neighbors “—snow.”
“You like to live where it’s hot all the time?”
“Remember? I came from Arizona. That should answer your question.”
“Originally?” he asked, curiosity lighting his eyes in an inviting manner that
she tried to ignore.
“Uh, why do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
She supposed there was no harm in sharing that bit of information. “Yeah. Born
and raised near Tucson.”
“So you do like it hot.”
She laughed. “I guess so.”
“Well, if you stick around you’ll see it can get pretty hot around here, too,
come summer. And it’s a dry heat, like your Arizona.” He winked at her and she
startled at the playful gesture. John wasn’t the type to wink. But, as her smile
grew, she realized she kind of liked the lighter side of John Murphy. Made her
wonder just how many facets this man hid behind that tough exterior.
Also made her wonder if she had the guts to find out.
His cell phone rang at his hip and he answered it on the first ring. Listening
for a moment, he pulled the phone away from his ear to ask, “You mind if Gladys
and the girls go for ice cream?”
Renee shivered. “It’s not quite cold enough already for them?” He shrugged as if
he didn’t know if that was a rhetorical question and she sighed before
answering. “I guess that’s fine. So much for dinner if they’re eating ice cream
so late in the day.”
John returned to the phone. “That’s fine just be careful out there, once the sun
goes down the roads are going to slick up. A storm’s coming.” A moment later he
disconnected and returned the phone to his hip.
Renee’s ears pricked up as she glanced fearfully at the sky. “What kind of
storm? A big one?”
“Sounds like a pretty good one. But don’t worry, they’ll be back before it
starts.”
Renee hated the idea of waiting out another storm all alone in that little
cottage while everyone else was warm and snuggled together in the main house. “I
wish Gladys would’ve told me she was in the mood for ice cream. I could’ve just
picked up a quart of something while I was in town,” she said, worried about
Gladys and the girls on the road when the weather was about to get ugly. “I
mean, honestly, for an older woman, she’s not very bright. What if she gets into
an accident with the girls?”
John chuckled and she jerked around to stare frostily at him. “You find this
funny?”
“A little. Everything will be fine. You get yourself worked up about the oddest
things.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you find me amusing.”
The smile left his lips but an intensity returned to his eyes that immediately
set her previous fire to smoldering again. She inhaled sharply, mildly alarmed
at how quickly he could kindle desire with only a look her way.
“We should get back to the house,” she said, licking her lips unintentionally
yet her toes curled inside her boots as his gaze tracked the movement of her
tongue. Blatant hunger shone in his eyes and caused her lungs to constrict in
the most annoyingly female way that was at once delicious and telling. She
wanted him, too.
He slowly stalked toward her and she backed away until her backside met the
smooth wood of the stable wall and she could go no farther. “Wh-what are you
doing?” she asked, trying for calm when in fact she felt ready to jump out of
her skin.
John leaned in, one hand bracing himself near her left ear and he shocked her by
taking a deep whiff near the soft, exposed skin of her neck. “You smell good,”
he said softly, his breath tickling her ear. “You know that?”
“Thanks,” she whispered, unable to say much more without betraying the tremble
in her voice. “You smell like horses,” she managed to add, eliciting a low,
throaty chuckle on his part. What she didn’t say was that she didn’t mind.
She risked a smile and looked into his eyes. Such soulful, deep and arresting
eyes, she noted as she allowed her gaze to travel the lines of his face. “Why
didn’t some woman snatch you up a long time ago?” she wondered, realizing a half
second too late she’d said it out loud.
“Never found the right one,” John answered without hesitation. “I guess you
could say I’m particular.”
She uttered a short, soft laugh. “Then what are you doing here pressed up
against me?”
“The one thing I swore I wouldn’t do,” he answered with a faint grimace but
before she could react he took her mouth with his own, the offended retort dying
on her tongue as she was suddenly busy with other things.

JOHN PULLED RENEE INTO his arms, his senses alive with the solid feel of her
body against his, and gave into the tremendous wave of pleasure that came from
the seductive dance of their tongues twining and retreating. It was a slow and
steady assault on his defenses and it was a battle he didn’t mind losing in the
least. His groin tightened until his jeans bit uncomfortably into his taut skin
and he wanted nothing more than to lay Renee down in the hay and warm every inch
of that beautiful skin of hers. But even as desire attempted to blot out every
useful thought in his head, there was a voice—faint as it were—demanding that he
stop. For one, he doubted Renee would much enjoy a quick roll in the barn. She
made it abundantly clear she was no country girl. And two, well, this just
smacked of a bad idea on multiple levels.
But damn…for something so wrong, it felt pretty right.
Biting back a sigh of frustration, he pulled slowly away. Her lips, swollen and
reddened, called to him and he had to catch himself before he leaned in for
another taste. “I’m sorry…” he started, but then stopped. “I take that back. I’m
not sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now and well…you looked so
beautiful standing there that I didn’t want to hold back. I am sorry if it
complicates things more than they already are.”
It was a moment before she spoke and the silence had started to make John sweat.
Finally, she nodded. “I’m not going to lie. I’m attracted to you in the worst
way. I want you so bad my teeth ache. But…what happens afterward? We may be
playing house for the moment but eventually I’m leaving and I’m taking my girls
with me. And then what? Broken hearts all around? No. It’s bad enough that my
girls are going to bawl their eyes out when we have to leave. Someone has to
stay strong for their sakes.”
“You’re right,” he murmured, regretfully putting more space between them. “It’s
a good thing one of us is thinking clearly. Because right about now I’ve got
some crazy thoughts running through my head and I can’t say they’re not
motivated by the wrong things.”
She blushed a pretty shade of pink and he grinned. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he
said.
“Stop that,” she said, trying to be serious, though her eyes had warmed with a
sweet light. “How am I supposed to stay strong when you’re handing out
compliments like candy? I’m just as vulnerable as the next girl when it comes to
sweet-talking men.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” he said. Moving toward the barn entrance, he jerked his
head, saying, “Let’s get out of this cold barn before we freeze and see what we
can throw together to eat. If I can’t feed one appetite, I can certainly feed
the other, right?”
“Lucky for you, Gladys left a potato casserole in the oven. That woman spoils
you rotten.”