Loving A Lonesome Cowboy

Maybe she was a runaway. Just like his sister had been once upon a time. Sara had to be younger than Jenna. He turned the key in the ignition, his thoughts straying to his sister.

In some ways it seemed like only yesterday that he’d awakened at sunup to find a note from Jenna telling him she’d eloped. But she’d been seventeen then, and now she was sending her two daughters to spend Christmas with him while she honeymooned with her soon-to-be-third husband.

Ethan sighed heavily. What the hell was he going to do with a twelve-and six-year-old for ten days? It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, or that he wasn’t happy to see his nieces, but he obviously didn’t know beans about kids.

He’d tried his hardest to raise fourteen-year-old Jenna after their parents had died, but he’d clearly failed. She’d gone from a sweet-tempered, shy child to a headstrong hellion by the time she was sixteen. Of course he’d only been twenty himself at the time of the car accident, and totally clueless about the needs of a young teenage girl. The only thing he knew about was ranching. And Emily.

But Emily was dead now. And Ethan didn’t give a damn anymore about the ranch they’d built together. Sam took care of everything just fine.

There was a small jewelry and coin store right at the edge of town, so he parked the truck and went inside. He vaguely knew the owner, who was reading a comic book behind the counter, but fortunately not well enough to make small talk or to have to answer a lot of nosy questions. Other than that, no one else was around. Probably all home having supper.

The owner showed him a modest selection of watchbands from which to choose, then went back to reading his comic book. Ethan checked the time. He still had ten minutes.

He tried to concentrate on finding the most durable band, but his mind kept drifting to the girls’ arrival. Erika was the older one; he’d seen her only twice before, on the rare occasions when Jenna had remembered she still had family and had shown up at the ranch. Denise, the younger one, had to be about six. He’d never met her or her father.

His gut clenched at the thought that these two little girls were his own flesh and blood—the last of the Slade line. He and Emily had waited on having children. Foolishly, they’d counted on having a lifetime together.

He quickly chose a plain black leather band before his thoughts wandered to forbidden territory, then he pulled some money out of his pocket while the owner replaced the old band. Already twenty minutes had flown by, and damn if it wasn’t going to take Sara Conroy every spare minute to get the house in decent shape.

As he left the store, his thoughts strayed back to her. He sure hoped she was stronger than she looked. He wouldn’t be much help to her. The idea of going back to the house still made him uneasy. The idea of even Sara or his nieces entering the house and touching things didn’t sit well with him.

He forced a deep breath as he fished in his pocket for his keys. In a way, it was better Jenna had given him no notice. He didn’t have time to dread facing the ghosts or the memories.

Besides, he had enough to worry about, trying to figure out what to do with two kids.

He opened the truck’s door and froze.

Sara was already sitting in the cab. On her lap was a suitcase. Beside her was a freckled-faced little girl staring back at him.

Chapter Two

“Who is this?”

Sara raised her brows in innocence, then looked down at the child who had plastered herself to Sara’s side. “You mean, Misty? She’s my daughter. Misty, say hi to Mr. Slade.”

Misty didn’t utter so much as a peep.

“Why is she sitting in my truck?”

Sara set a pair of headphones over Misty’s ears, then started the Baby Beluga tape she’d readied in the event Mr. Slade opposed her plan. “You didn’t expect me to leave her alone in the motel room, did you?”

“I didn’t expect her at all.” Ethan frowned at the suitcase. “What’s that for?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d get a ride back so I brought a few things in case we have to spend the night.” In fact, Sara was counting on it. She’d already checked out of the motel, hoping to save a couple of nights’ rent.

“You’re not spending the night.”

“But it makes sense.”

“Not to me.”

“Don’t you think you should get in? Standing on the sidewalk isn’t going to solve anything.”

Ethan climbed behind the wheel, his expression grim as he stared straight ahead. “You don’t understand.”

“Is it the owner? Do you think he’d have a problem with me staying in his house?”

“Possibly.”

Sara rubbed her left temple. She hadn’t considered that problem. But, of course, she was a stranger to this man, and whoever owned the house. “You said the owner doesn’t live there anymore, right?”

He nodded, slowly turning to look at her.

She gave him a bright smile. “Then surely there isn’t anything of value left in the house.”

His head jerked a little, almost as though she’d struck out at him.

“I only meant that he wouldn’t have to worry about me stealing anything.” Heat climbed her face, and she automatically slipped an arm around Misty. “Not that I’m a thief. But I am a stranger to you.”

He shook his head, and brought his troubled gaze to hers. “The thought never crossed my mind. What about you? Aren’t you concerned about me?”

She stared back at him, wondering what had made his eyes so sad. They were a warm shade of brown, a sort of milk chocolate color, but they lacked sparkle or expression. “I asked around about you.”

He seemed to tense, then looked straight ahead again.

That made her all the more curious. Neither of the two people besides Judy that she’d asked had had an unkind thing to say about Ethan Slade. In fact, they wouldn’t say much at all. Only that he was an honorable man, and she needn’t worry. She’d shoved her curiosity aside and asked no more questions. She wouldn’t ask him any either. She of all people knew the importance of privacy. Of keeping secrets.

“Shouldn’t we get moving before it gets too late?” she prompted, hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.

He stared in silence for another minute, and when he finally turned the key and started the engine, her breath slipped out in relief.

“Certain rooms will be off limits to both you and your daughter,” he said, without looking at her. “I’ll point them out as soon as we get there. About food for tonight and tomorrow morning…,” he slid her a look, and she was surprised to see concern in his eyes. “There may be a few canned goods, but nothing else. I can’t even be sure the refrigerator is still working.”

“No problem. We still have a jar of peanut butter and crackers and a couple of bananas. We’ll be fine.”

His concern gave way to curiosity, but he said nothing as he returned his attention to the road.

Sara used the lengthening silence to remind herself to say as little as possible. She didn’t need Ethan’s, or anyone else’s curiosity stirred. Cal had too many connections, knew too many people. If he decided he gave half a damn about either her or Misty, he might be inclined to search for them. Not that she thought he would suddenly discover love in his heart. He simply didn’t like losing…especially not what he considered his possessions.

She stared out at the scenery, fascinated by the vast expanse of land and rock formations. In some places the land looked too parched, and in general, it was on the arid side, but somehow the desolation added to its beauty. So unlike Dallas, where she’d spent her entire life. If she weren’t so darn scared, this would have been a great adventure.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked, turning to Ethan.

“All my life.”

“It’s beautiful.”

He nodded.

She waited, hoped he’d say something else. It appeared she’d have a heck of a long wait. Misty was still happily listening to her tape, even though it probably was for the hundredth time, so Sara decided to leave well enough alone and continue to enjoy the scenery.

After another five-minute stretch of silence, she asked, “How long has it been since you’ve seen your nieces?”

He looked startled. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Just making conversation.” She sighed, and mumbled, “Sorry,” before she let her gaze stray out the window again.

A minute later he said, “It’s been a long time. About six years.”

Sara smiled to herself. Progress. She waited another minute, then said, “How old are they?”

“Twelve and six.”

Six? Only a year older than Misty. Excitement simmered in Sara’s chest. “How long will they be here?”

“Until Christmas.”

He turned down a long dusty road that seemed to go nowhere, and she remained quiet, forcing herself to breathe slowly. His younger niece’s company would be great for Misty, and surely he wasn’t equipped to care for the two girls by himself. Whereas Sara was really good with children. And the isolation of the ranch was perfect. If Cal were looking…

Her heart started to hammer at the thought she might be able to give Misty a decent Christmas after all. Now, all she had to do was convince Ethan Slade that for the next two weeks, she was indispensable to him.

“THE KITCHEN is that way.” Ethan gestured to his left. “I’ll show you the two rooms the girls will be using.”

“Wait a minute.” She finished settling Misty on the couch with her headphones. “Can’t we go peek in the kitchen? I have a feeling that’s where most of my elbow grease will be needed.”

“Later. After I leave.” He started down the long hall, his chest tightening as he approached the master bedroom. The one that had once been used by his parents and then by him and Emily.

The kitchen, he wasn’t ready to face. Emily had spent too much time there, cooking and canning and proudly gazing out at her vegetable garden. The patch of land was surely nothing but weeds now, but the memories would still be thriving.

He hadn’t managed to lose the lump in his throat that had formed when the house had come into view, and the sooner he got out of here the better. “This room here—”

He frowned at the empty hall behind him, then started to retrace his steps. Where the hell was Sara?

She was standing in the middle of the family room, slowly running her hand over the intricate details of the mahogany rocker his grandfather had carved. For whatever reason, it was the only piece of furniture in the room not covered by a white sheet.

She looked up. “This is beautiful.” Her gaze wandered toward the dirty windows framing a portion of the San Juan Mountains. “And the view…” She shook her head. “It’s a shame no one lives here anymore.”

“You can look at all this later,” he said gruffly, which earned him a quizzical look. “I want to show you the bedrooms, then I have to go.”

“All right.” Her hand fell from the chair, and she started toward him. But then she stopped, and so did he.

“What now?”

She was staring at the stone fireplace. “Over in that corner,” she said with a jerk of her chin. “Is that where you’re putting the tree?”

“What tree?”

She looked at him like he’d grown a horn in the middle of his forehead. “The Christmas tree, of course.”

Ethan groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m not getting one. We don’t have any ornaments anyway.”

She shrugged. “It might be fun for the girls to make some.”

“No tree.” He stalked down the hall without turning to see if she’d followed. But she sure as hell had better be right behind him, or…

She was. “Why not?”

He briefly closed his eyes. “Because I don’t have time to find one or worry about decorations.”

“I can do that.”

“You won’t be here.”

“Oh.” She drew in her lower lip for a moment, then opened her mouth, but at his warning look, promptly shut it again.

He opened the bedroom door, and musty, dusty air poured out, throwing them both into fits of coughing. Quickly, he brought his attack under control, but Sara seemed to be gasping for breath.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, coughed, then gasped.

He circled his fingers around her upper arm and drew her away from the room. She felt tiny, fragile, where her arm should have been more meaty.

Peanut butter and crackers.

Was that her staple? Was that all she could afford?

He kept his hand wrapped around her arm, not sure if she needed him to steady her, as he opened a window. Frosty air snaked down the hall, but at least she’d stopped coughing.

She took a couple of shallow breaths and shifted her arm. He got the message and released her.

“Okay?” he asked, ducking his head to get a better look at her face. Her color was high and her eyes too bright but she quickly nodded.

“I’m fine, really.” She took a deeper breath. “I had a touch of asthma as a child and occasionally I have a slight attack. Nothing to worry about,” she added hastily. “I outgrew it in my teens.”

The information bothered Ethan. He wasn’t sure she should be doing this kind of work. “Look, Sara—”

She touched his arm, alarm in her eyes. “Please, don’t withdraw the job offer.” She lifted her chin. “I need the work.”

Ah, hell. Why did she have to look at him with those big pleading blue eyes like that? “Wait here a minute.”

He returned to the room, flipping on the ceiling fan on his way to the window. Good thing Sam had talked him into keeping the utilities turned on. Of course Sam thought Ethan would have tired of the caretaker’s shack and returned by now. It wasn’t that simple.

The window was old and stubborn from lack of use, but he finally managed to open it halfway. More cold air swirled through the room, but it sure beat letting the musty stagnant air suffocate them.

He went to the next room and did the same thing. On his way out to call Sara, he saw Emily’s sewing basket sitting on the oak dresser. His heart thumped as memories of them sitting by the fire sliced through him as cleanly as a knife through pudding.

She’d loved working with her hands, and she’d loved Christmas. Around July she’d always started sewing and knitting presents. He still had every sweater she’d knitted him. They were all in boxes he never opened.

“Ethan?”

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there staring, when Sara’s troubled voice drifted to him. Silently he cleared his throat as he saw her in the doorway. Her nose was still red from her coughing fit, and so were her cheeks. She looked about sixteen. “I was trying to air out the rooms.”

She sniffed. “It’s better already. I take it this is the other room you want me to get ready?” She started to cross the threshold, but he stepped forward, causing her to stop.

“Let’s give it a few more minutes to air out. I’ll show you where the bathrooms are.” His tone was apparently too abrupt because she looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear, and took a wobbly step backward.

He didn’t have the words to fend off her fears, so he merely gave her a wide berth as he passed her. “I think one bathroom will be enough for the girls,” he said as he peered through the open door just down the hall.

The walls were covered with a startling pink wallpaper, the tile floor only a couple of shades lighter. It was one of two guest bathrooms, and Emily had insisted on the colorful decor. He’d truly hated it the first day she unveiled her handiwork, but she’d said bright colors boosted her spirits. And that had been enough for Ethan.

He thought he heard Sara chuckle, and he glanced over his shoulder. She smiled, her teeth perfectly straight and as white as new snow.

“How old did you say your older niece is?” she asked, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

“Twelve. Maybe thirteen.”

“I wouldn’t count on one bathroom being enough.”

He rubbed the side of his neck. “Why not?”

There was that twinkle in her eyes again. Made her look real pretty. “Because girls that age notoriously take hours getting ready.”

“Ready to do what?”

“Anything.”

Ethan shook his head. It was going to be a long two weeks ahead of him.

“If you’re going to have your own bathroom, the two girls could probably work it out sharing one.” She ducked past him to get a look inside, and a subtle fragrance drifted up to him. From her hair. It smelled like roses.

“Well, this certainly is an interesting color.” She stepped inside and swiped the wall. Her palm came up brown, and she wrinkled her nose. “Wow! How long did you say it’s been since anyone lived here?”

“Six years.” Six years, one month and three days. “The girls will have the bathroom to themselves. I live in the caretaker’s place.”

She turned to him with wide eyes. “You’re leaving them alone here?”

“No. My—” He caught himself, paused, then gestured with his chin toward the east pasture. “Sam, the Double S foreman, lives in the bunkhouse nearby. Along with about half a dozen ranch hands.”

“Are they all men?”

He nodded slowly.

“You can’t do that.”

Ethan sighed. “I’ll see the girls every day.”

She put a hand on her hip. A slim but nicely rounded hip. “That isn’t the point.”

“I know every single one of those men. There isn’t a thing to worry about.”

“But they’re only children, you can’t—”

She stopped abruptly at Ethan’s warning look. He wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t dealt with the persistence of a woman in a long time, or because it was this woman in particular. But she sure was getting under his skin.

He did feel a little bad, though, seeing the alarm narrow her eyes and the way her body tensed. Made him wonder about her husband, and why she was traveling alone, or why she needed the job. He wouldn’t ask. It’d likely invite questions about himself.

She rubbed a hand up her arm and gave him a measuring look. “If it would help, Misty and I could stay awhile. No charge, of course. Just room and board would be fine.”

“I appreciate your concern, ma’am,” he told her, “but I believe I have everything covered.”

“Of course.” She gave him a tiny smile. “I guess I’ll get started.”

She led the way back to the family room, her walk not as spry as before, and he couldn’t help wondering about her again. Not that it was any of his damn business. Or that he wanted to get involved.

“I was thinking I should start with their bedrooms first,” she said over her shoulder. “Then the bathroom, next the kitchen and save the family room for last. If I’m not finished before they get here, they can at least settle in while I tackle in here.”

He stood beside her at the edge of the family room and frowned. “You don’t think you’ll finish in time?”

Her brows shot up as she surveyed the room. “I wasn’t expecting quite this much…neglect.” Quickly, she turned to him. “I’m not complaining. And I’ll get it done….”

“You’re right.” He laid a hand on her arm in reassurance, and her gaze raised to his, her eyes too big and too blue. Immediately he withdrew his hand and swallowed. “There’s a lot to do. I’m going to get one of the men to help you.”

She blinked, and fear flickered in her eyes. “What men?”

“One of the ranch hands.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her palms together, then dragged them down the front of her jeans. “Why don’t we see how far I get by tomorrow first? No need to interrupt their work schedule. The owner might not like it.”

“He won’t mind.” She still looked tense, so he added, “We can decide tomorrow evening. But you have to promise me you won’t lift anything heavy.”

A shy smile curved her lips. They were naturally peach-colored, and he felt a stirring where he damn well shouldn’t. “I promise,” she said.

“Okay.” His tone was gruff, and she stiffened. “I’ll get out of your hair. You need anything, go to the bunkhouse and ask for Sam. He’s a good man.”

She was about to say something, but her daughter sat up from her lounging position on the couch and yanked off her headphones. Sara hurried over to her. “Is the tape finished, honey?”

The little girl nodded, her gaze glued to Ethan.

“Do you want to listen to another one?” Sara brushed the child’s bangs out of her sleepy eyes. “Or you can listen to Baby Beluga again.”

“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Misty whispered softly.

Ethan heard it anyway.

Sara’s cheeks pinked and she leaned down to say something in the girl’s ear.

He looked away, not wanting to intrude. He scanned the dusty white shapeless mounds and realized he couldn’t recall what the furniture under the sheets looked like. Panic tightened his throat, gripped his chest.

How could he forget? This room had once been a haven for him, for both of them. He didn’t want to forget any part of their life together. Not a second. Ever.

It was a mistake to come here. Damn that Jenna.

“Ethan?”

He heard Sara calling to him and realized he was already at the door. His hand tensed on the knob. “I’m going out to the truck and get the cleaning supplies.” He slid her the briefest glance, and saw her pass a cracker to Misty before he stepped outside.

It took only one trip to unload the supplies. He left them on the porch, then drove away at breakneck speed before the demons picked up his trail.

Chapter Three

It had been dark for nearly an hour before Sara took her first break. In spite of the open windows and the brisk December air whipping through the house, she felt damp and clammy from exertion. Long tangled strands of hair refused to stay within the piece of elastic she’d tied around her curly mop, and they clung to her damp, flushed cheeks and neck.

And still she saw little progress as she surveyed the bedroom. Sighing, she sank onto the only chair in the room, a soft overstuffed club-style monstrosity, and prayed she could get up again.

Originally, she’d thought the amount of money Ethan had offered her was generous. Not anymore. Not with the king-size headache she had from inhaling dust and the insistent ache plaguing her lower back. She was beginning to doubt she’d even be able to make the place presentable in two days. Actually, a day and a half was more accurate. The girls would be arriving early afternoon the day after tomorrow.

A crocheted doily had fallen from the dresser and without leaving the chair, she scooped up the lacy snowflake-like piece for a closer inspection. It was finely made, by hand as far as she could tell, and although at first glimpse it appeared old, Sara guessed it was more recently made. At least in this decade, when women were usually too busy to spend the kind of time required for such fine craftsmanship.

Another mystery. The house had tons of them. Like the newer add-on off the back bedroom. The house was already huge, but the owners had added yet another room. Off the master bedroom, she figured, not having seen the inside of it. Forbidden territory, according to Ethan.

The add-on alone wasn’t strange. Many growing families found the need for additional space. But there was no sign that children had ever lived in the house. And then there was the owner’s abandonment. Very strange.

She tossed the doily back onto the dresser. More dust filtered into the air. Sighing, she pushed to her feet. She had far too much work ahead of her to be sitting here, wondering about things that were none of her business.

After taking a peek to make sure Misty was still napping, Sara decided to work in the kitchen for a while. She really did need to develop a plan. It was maddening the way she went from one room to the other for a mop or a rag, then randomly began a new task without completing the one she’d left.

She checked her watch and decided to give herself one hour in the kitchen. That way they’d at least have a decent place to sit and eat dinner. Even if it was only peanut butter and crackers. She turned on the water in the sink and gazed out the window. In the distance, the tops of the San Juan Mountains were already covered with snow.