The Magnificent Seven. Cheryl St.John

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СКАЧАТЬ sounds like a nice man.”

      “He is.”

      “And Larry?” She cast Mitch a inquisitive glance.

      “What about him?”

      “How do you feel about him?”

      A personal question. One he hadn’t anticipated from her, but he didn’t mind. Her curiosity hinted that she may think a little more kindly of him than he’d worried. “I don’t really know how to feel. He never wanted to be a part of my life, and I’ve had a fine life without him.”

      Heather turned onto the long strip of road that led across the Kincaid ranch to the house. “This it?”

      “This is it.”

      “Is there a Mr. Johnson?” Mitch asked. He’d told her quite a bit about himself, but knew nothing about her.

      She cast him a quick, unrevealing glance before returning her attention to the road. “There is, but we’re divorced.”

      “Oh.”

      A minute later, a quiet, “You, too?”

      “No. My wife died.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      He gazed at the house that came into view ahead. “Me, too.”

      “Recently?” she asked.

      He turned to look at her. “Four years ago. She had a blood disease.”

      Her eyes held compassion when she took them from the road for a moment. “So you’ve been raising Taylor and Ashley by yourself?”

      “My mother and my wife’s mother kept them, and we tried a few day cares. Nothing worked out. They’re, uh, a handful.”

      “Most kids are.”

      She didn’t have a clue. He’d seen how well behaved hers were. Sometimes he felt like a total failure at parenting. Heck, most times he was a total failure at parenting.

      Well, being raised by grandmothers would explain some of the twins’s spoiled behavior, Heather thought. But she’d never seen anything like their kicking and screaming histrionics, and she knew she wouldn’t have put up with it for five minutes.

      She pulled the Blazer up the winding drive, past detached garages, and stopped in front of the house. A tall, dark-haired young man with dark eyes and olive skin approached the vehicle, a smile on his handsome face. “Hey, bro! Where’s your truck?”

      “Hey, Cade. It’s at Ms. Johnson’s place, drying out.”

      Cade lowered his head to peer into the vehicle. “Ms. Johnson?”

      “From Pete Bolton’s ranch,” she clarified.

      “This is my half brother, Cade Redstone. Cade, this is Heather Johnson.”

      Cade stretched a tanned arm in front of Mitch, and Heather shook his hand. “What’s this about drying out your truck?”

      “I’ll explain it to you later,” Mitch said.

      “Uh-oh. Has the dynamic duo been at it again?”

      “Big-time.” Mitch got out and opened the back door to help unbuckle his daughters. They ran off toward the house.

      “Thanks again,” Mitch said, ducking in the passenger window. “I’ll be out tomorrow to fix that fence. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

      His directly appreciative gaze caught Heather up short. She wasn’t in the market for anything other than a remodeling job, and he didn’t even fit those qualifications. She shrugged. “No rush. The horses were boarded at a neighbor’s before I arrived.”

      “You know where I am if you change your mind about the project.”

      She nodded noncommittally. Besides how disturbed she felt in his presence, his children were more trouble than she needed. “Goodbye.”

      He moved away and she steered the Blazer back toward the highway. She’d been thinking about considering his offer when they’d heard the commotion from outside. Thank goodness she hadn’t made a quick decision based on her instantaneous reaction to his appearance. She didn’t trust a man who couldn’t handle two small children to manage a remodeling project.

      Somebody else was sure to call about the job.

      Three

       N o one else called about the job. Heather had tried every number in Whitehorn’s leaflet that someone had amusingly labeled a phone directory, without finding anyone willing to take on the repair work. One local company offered to place her on their waiting list, but wouldn’t promise anything until November.

      She couldn’t wait that long. She couldn’t wait any longer. Once she even found a contractor, the work would take weeks. Her vacation was over and she had been forced to ask for a leave of absence until matters were settled. Her boss had pressed her for a return date, but she’d been unable to provide him with one. She had to get things moving quickly or she worried her job would be in jeopardy.

      The children had been in bed for more than an hour, the laundry was done, and Heather made herself a cup of tea and carried it out to the porch. She went back in for a sweatshirt before snuggling down in the comfortable rattan rocker that creaked beneath her weight.

      The clatter of the frogs sounded more like locusts than the deep-throated croak one expected. At the sound, long-buried memories edged to the surface of her mind and she recalled the summer evenings of her childhood. She’d been alone. Always alone. After her mother’s death, her father had retreated into a bottle and turned her care over to his dominating housekeeper.

      Heather had despised the woman and at every opportunity had hidden herself away to avoid her. Coming back to the ranch after so many years raised memories better left forgotten. With strict discipline, she locked away those unpleasant thoughts.

      Her husband had never been much of a father. He’d paid minimal attention to Patrick at first, since he’d been the first boy, but the novelty had soon worn off. Craig had made money. That had been his forte. But he’d believed Heather should be making money, too. They couldn’t afford the life-style and the house and the status he thought they needed on one salary.

      And Heather had never minded working, since her job gave her the satisfaction and self-worth she’d never received at home. Sometimes she’d had misgivings about the time away from her family, about the firsts she had missed, and the opportunities that slipped by, but it was just the way things were for everyone these days.

      Her boss had called tonight, conferring with her on a project due in another month. His reliance on her expertise assured her of her value in the company. They were impatient for her to settle this situation. Everyone had family matters arise from time to time; however, companies were understanding only to a point.

      Unfortunately, Mitch Fielding’s offer was the only option she had at this time. That or selling the ranch off in its present condition and losing a heck of a profit. Heaven knew she could use СКАЧАТЬ