A Texas-Made Family. Roz Fox Denny

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       “Can we meet on Friday?”

      Grant asked, as he pulled a business card out of his pocket and jotted down his number. “Same time as today and same place.”

      “How about one o’clock? Why don’t I bring an extra sandwich for you?” Rebecca was beginning to warm to the idea of seeing him again.

      “No. Let me bring the food. My daughter’ so sure I can’t even boil water, I need to prove I’m not a total kitchen klutz.”

      Rebecca’s laughter welled up from deep inside and brought colour to her cheeks. “All right, but you’ve got to promise we’ll come up with some kind of plan for the kids. Otherwise I can’t justify meeting you for lunch.”

      That dampened his spirits a bit. “I promise,” he murmured. “Between now and Friday, I’ll figure out how to make peace with Ryan. I should be able to relate to him better.”

      “I hope so. Our kids are the whole reason for us to see each other. Bye, Grant.” She hurried into the salon where she worked.

      As he called out a final goodbye and headed for his car, Grant thought he should have corrected Rebecca’s impression. Their kids weren’t why he wanted to see her again.

      Roz Denny Fox has been a RITA® Award finalist and has placed in a number of other contests; her books have also appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list. She’s happy to have received her twenty-five-book pin and would one day love to get the pin for fifty books. Roz currently resides in Tucson, Arizona, with her husband, Denny. They have two daughters.

      A Texas-Made Family

      by

      Roz Denny Fox

       MILLS & BOON®

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

       Chapter One

      REBECCA GEROUX barely made it to the kitchen with her three heavy bags of groceries before one ripped open. Oranges spilled across the counter. Two bounced off and hit the floor. “Lisa!” Rebecca called for her sixteen-year-old-daughter, hoping for some help.

      Getting no answer, Rebecca tried her son. “Jordan! Hey, one of you kids had better get in here, or I won’t have time to fix supper before I need to leave.” From the silence that ensued, she knew Jordan hadn’t heard. That wasn’t surprising—he’d had his nose in a book and music blaring from his new iPod as she passed him on the couch. Rebecca didn’t see the appeal of an iPod, but all kids lately seemed to need one. And Jordan had done odd jobs to earn the money for his. Rebecca just hoped the book in his hand was homework.

      Gathering up the errant oranges, she dumped them in a fridge drawer. Thank goodness I can multitask, she thought as she stacked canned vegetables on an upper pantry shelf while she filled a large pot with water to boil for spaghetti. Finding a jar of commercial tomato sauce tucked behind the beans, she wrenched it open and poured it into a smaller pan.

      Being a single mom who’d worked two jobs for what seemed like forever, Rebecca had long since stopped beating herself up over using shortcuts. She did whatever it took to keep a roof over her family’s heads and food on the table. Not to mention clothes on the body of a teenage boy who grew an inch a month.

      It was lucky Lisa waited tables a couple of afternoons a week and the occasional weekend. She babysat, too, for Darcy Blackburn, one of Rebecca’s co-workers at the restaurant. It wasn’t easy, but every penny helped build the college fund Lisa and Rebecca contributed to every week. Lisa was going places. With her straight A’s and work ethic, she was never going to be stuck working two jobs.

      “Lisa!” Rebecca yelled again. “Come take over the dinner. I’ve got to change before I leave for the Tumbleweed. At the salon today, I dribbled a big splotch of red hair dye down my blouse. I can’t serve customers like this.”

      The side door crashed open, catching Rebecca so off guard she dropped the loaf of French bread she’d just buttered and wrapped in foil.

      “For heaven’s sake, Lisa Louise, you scared the living daylights out of me. I thought you were in your room doing homework. Where have you been?”

      The pretty blond girl shed her backpack. “Sorry, Mom. I told Jordan to let you know I was taking the late bus home today.” Lisa washed her hands at the sink, then leaned over the stove to peer into the pots. “Spaghetti again?” She wrinkled her nose. “Did you read the article I brought home from health class? Eating all these starchy foods is so fattening.”

      Rebecca smoothed a hand down her worn black slacks. “Then it’s a good thing this family burns calories off with hard work.” Handing Lisa a wooden fork, she added dryly, “If you feel the need for extra exercise, you can dance while you stir. Just keep the noodles from sticking. Oh, and don’t put anything down the garbage disposal. It quit again. There goes another hundred bucks.” Rebecca heaved a sigh.

      Reaching back into the pantry, she made room for several giant cereal boxes. “So…why did you take the late bus home?”

      “We got a new student. Mom, he is totally hot. Ryan Lane. He’s a senior. Actually, he’s been in town a few weeks, but couldn’t start class until the records from his previous school arrived. He’s in my honors English and honors chemistry classes. Mr. Reavis made Ryan my chemistry partner. Ever since Ginny Parker’s dad got transferred to an airbase in Maryland I’ve been the only one doing experiments alone.”

      Rebecca shut the cupboard and frowned. Her mind had stalled on the totally hot comment. “So, did Mr. Reavis ask you to stay after class to share your notes with the new boy?”

      But Lisa wasn’t listening. “Ryan plays baseball. He’s a pitcher. Coach asked him to try out for the team, and Ryan invited me to watch. Mom, he’s nothing like the other jocks. Ryan’s been going to school in Germany for years. And he has the coolest convertible ever. Baby blue. The exact shade of his eyes,” she murmured, oblivious to the fact that her vigorous stirring had slopped water out of the noodle pot.

      “You can’t afford to be distracted by boys, Lisa,” Rebecca chided. “If you expect to get one of these scholarships we researched, you have to keep your grades up and stay in the honors programs. Surely I don’t need to remind you how long it took me to save up for beauty school? And even after I passed the course I couldn’t afford to rent space in a shop right away because I needed all the hours I could get at the Tumbleweed just to pay the bills.”

      The girl made a face. “Yeah, yeah. Like you’d ever let me forget. You asked me why I was late, so I’m explaining.”

      “I know. I’m trying to be clear about why you can’t lose sight of your goal of going to a really good college.”

      “Right. But, Mom, you’ve got to meet Ryan. He’s smart. And nice.”

      “Nice is as nice does, young lady. What about his parents? What do you know about them?”

      “I think it’s only him, a little sister and his dad. But when I bragged about what a great mom you are, Ryan said СКАЧАТЬ