Her Hill Country Cowboy. Myra Johnson

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       Chapter Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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