The Ranger's Texas Proposal. Jessica Keller

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СКАЧАТЬ front porch made a horrible moaning sound under their combined weight and Josie grimaced. The old fishing cabin had belonged to her father and had fallen completely out of use after his passing several years ago. Dad had left it to her, and Dale hadn’t wanted to care for the property. Once she’d moved out of her and Dale’s old home, the fishing cabin was all she had to her name. She’d been proud of the little space. It was hers. One hundred percent hers. It was the first time ever that she’d lived alone, which she discovered she didn’t like, but that was a different issue altogether. The fact was, now she knew.

      But for as much pride as she had in the small patch of land that she was trying to turn into a functioning ranch and the tiny two-bedroom cabin that was going to be the perfect amount of space for her and her baby, worry lanced through her. She tried to see the place through Heath’s eyes. Would he consider it shabby? Think her poor and tragic?

      Josie lifted her shoulders, filled her lungs and held up her chin as she opened the door. This was her home. She refused to care what anyone else thought about it. She was determined to craft this cabin into a welcoming place filled with love. One her baby would enjoy growing up in. She wouldn’t waste worry on what a passing-through Texas Ranger thought. No matter how much the muscles in his arms popped when he carried in her milk pails.

      Josie stepped around Heath and opened up her green secondhand refrigerator. “Just set them in the bottom there.”

      He did so and then turned to face her, almost as if he was waiting for her to issue his next marching orders. She couldn’t allow him to work on her ranch for a few hours and then send him on his way. That wasn’t good manners. Besides, she still needed to fill him in about the incident she’d witnessed at the boys ranch.

      Josie clasped her hands. “Why don’t you wash up and have a seat? After that many chores, I have a feeling you’ve worked up an appetite.” She rubbed her palms together, hesitant. Was this a good idea? Too late. “Bathroom’s the second door in the hall there.”

      “Ma’am, there’s no need—”

      She held up her finger in that scolding way she used to do when she worked as a nanny years ago. “Ah. I won’t hear it. Now’s my chance to invoke my mother on you. She wouldn’t hear of me sending away an honest, hardworking man without so much as offering a scrambled egg or two, so I won’t listen to any arguments. Scrub your hands and have a seat.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat.

      “And no more ma’am stuff,” she called after him as he made his way to the washroom. “I’m probably younger than you are.”

      “I’m sure you are,” he called back.

      Josie mentally cataloged what ingredients she had and settled on biscuits and gravy with a side of cheesy scrambled eggs. She’d made a batch of her favorite biscuits from scratch the other night and there were plenty left over. They were always a huge hit when she shared them at the boys ranch. She popped a bunch of them onto a pan and set her oven to warm.

      After she wiggled the knob on the stovetop, it finally clicked and the flame went on. She set a skillet over the flame and crumbled breakfast sausage into the pan. Grease sizzled and popped. Josie licked her lips. She was hungry and loved cooking. These days, though, she often skipped making what she considered real meals because there was only her.

      Making food for one was no fun.

      She scraped the skillet and then sprinkled in the flour, keeping an eye on it while the grease soaked it all up. Next the milk and then the rest of the flour and seasonings. The mixture would have to be stirred frequently now so it didn’t get too thick or burn on the bottom. Josie juggled cracking the eggs and starting to scramble them along with stirring the gravy with finesse.

      When breakfast—she glanced at the clock and saw that it was ten in the morning, so it was closer to brunch now—was done, she arranged both their plates and then turned toward the table. Heath sat there, his hat off and resting on the pole on the back of his chair. His dark hair was doing that adorable messy, sticking-up thing again. Josie tried not to stare, but it was hard not to.

      “That bad?” Heath’s cheeks reddened and he patted his head. “Should I put the hat back on?” He swiveled around to grab the Stetson.

      He had noticed her staring? How embarrassing.

      Josie swallowed hard and forced her eyes down to their plates. “No. You’re fine like that. Just fine.” She set the plate with double the amount of food in front of him and then took her seat across the table. “Would you mind saying grace?”

      “Of course.” Heath nodded and bowed his head. “Father, we thank You for the people we meet and the adventures You take us on. Bless Josie and her baby, keep them both in good health. Bless this food to our bodies, that we’ll use the energy to go out and do things that glorify You. And bless our conversation. In the name of Your Son, Jesus, we ask all these things. Amen.”

      “Amen,” Josie whispered. “Thank you.”

      “Sure.” Heath shrugged and gave her a look that said it was strange to thank someone for saying a prayer. They both dug into their food. Heath passed a compliment her way after every bite.

      “I haven’t eaten that well in...” He leaned back and rested his hands on his abs. “Well, suffice it to say it’s been a long time since this bachelor has had a good meal. I don’t think I’ve ever used the oven back at my apartment for anything beyond frozen pizza.”

      Living off frozen pizza? Josie shivered at the thought. “No Mrs. Grayson, then?”

      “There’s my mother?” He shook his head. “But no, she hasn’t been Mrs. Grayson in fourteen or so years. She’s Mrs. Nye these days.”

      “Dating?” Why was she grilling him?

      “No, ma’am. I’m not exactly the dating type.”

      She pointed her fork at him. “What did I say about the ma’am business?”

      He ran his hand over his hair. “Force of habit, I’m afraid.” Then he rocked forward, pushed his plate to the side and rested his hands on the table. “How about you tell me what happened at the barn last night—go ahead and go into detail, if you will.”

      “Right.” Josie clasped her hands in her lap. “It was just past sunset last night. I know that because the boys were in the dining room with their house parents—there are couples at the ranch who serve as counselors and role models for the boys living there. They had just finished dinner. I was heading out to my truck.”

      “That one out there?” He jutted his thumb toward her driveway.

      “The only one I have.”

      He laid a hand on the table, giving off a relaxed air that Josie knew—from Dale’s training—was all part of the tricks of the trade when it came to getting a witness to feel comfortable in an interview. “Is it safe to drive?”

      “Is this pertinent to my story?”

      “No.” He shifted in his seat. “I apologize. Continue, please.”

      “Well, I was about to unlock my truck but I froze because I heard a clanging sound, and I know that sound because it’s very distinct. I hear it every day.” Josie stopped clenching her hands together. Relax. She СКАЧАТЬ