Certified Cowboy. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ and a dangerous ex. And she was certainly not his type.

       No, the news had shown photo after photo of him with voluptuous young blondes and redheads who followed him on the road. Rodeo groupies whose names were Candy and Brandi with an i, women who didn’t have dishpan hands or tired, lank hair or nails chewed down to the quick from worrying about money and a son she needed to care for and protect.

       Her throat thick with emotions and exhaustion, she massaged her temple, battling an unexpected rash of tears.

       “There are the bunkhouses for the campers,” Johnny pointed out. “They’re set up like dorms and divided into quadrants according to ages. We hired some college students as camp counselors. Hopefully, as the camp and our reputation grow, we’ll have returning youth who will assume that role.”

       “It’s impressive,” Rachel said, and meant it. “But I’m surprised your investors are actually physically working with the program themselves.”

       Johnny shifted, looking uncomfortable. When he parked at a long building with a wooden sign that read Dining Hall and looked up at her, pain flashed briefly across his face.

       “Not all of us were born with money or had things handed to us on a silver platter.” His voice held a defensive hint. “Some of us…had problems of our own. Now we want to give back.”

       Rachel’s heart stuttered at the lost-little-boy look in his eyes as his gaze met hers. She hadn’t meant to sound condescending, but she must have pushed a button.

       She tried to remember what she’d read about him. Something about a woman making accusations against him.

       But Kenny released a squeal of excitement, halting her thoughts, and threw open his door. “Mommy, look, there’s a dog! A real dog!”

       Rachel glanced at the mutt and nearly choked on a laugh. Cleo was a mixed mutt of some kind, a cross between a basset hound and a beagle and God knew what else.

       Johnny’s troubled look faded at her son’s outburst, and he turned to Kenny with a smile. “That’s Cleopatra, but we call her Cleo,” Johnny said. “Come on, Kenny. She’s been lonely and needs a friend.”

       Rachel sensed he wasn’t just talking about the dog. That he had figured out more about her from their initial meeting than she’d intended to reveal.

       No…that wasn’t possible.

       Not unless Rex had followed her or somehow discovered she’d been checking out this ranch. If he had, he could have already contacted the people here. Maybe he’d called Johnny and spouted off his book of lies.

       What if he’d asked Johnny to play nice to her, to lull her into a sense of safety until Rex could show up?

       Her head was churning with suspicions, her panic-voice urging her to run again, so loudly that she hadn’t noticed that Johnny had helped Kenny down from the truck and they were playing with the dog.

       The pathetic, bony-looking animal had sprawled on the ground and was salivating as Kenny scratched between her floppy ears.

       Rachel climbed down to join them, the joy on her son’s face deflating her earlier worries. She was just being paranoid. There was no way Rex could know she was here.

       “Mom, Cleo and I are gonna be best friends.”

       She knotted her hands, ready to deny him. But Johnny stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. A gentle hand that made her look up into his eyes. Eyes that were usually flirty but eyes that looked soulful now, as if he saw too much.

       The realization made her shift uncomfortably.

       “Cleo was a stray I found on the side of the road,” he said quietly. “She’d been abandoned and abused. She needs someone to love her.”

       Tears burned Rachel’s throat. He sounded so sincere.

       And somehow he’d sensed the fact that her son needed stability. Peace. Normalcy.

       The BBL offered all those things. The kind of comfort and home neither of them had had in a very long time.

       She let him guide her toward the dining hall. They would stay, she decided.

       But at the first sign of trouble, that Rex had followed them, they’d hit the road and never look back.

      Chapter Three

      Johnny noted the skittish gleam in Rachel’s eyes but forced himself not to push for the reason. Breaking horses had taught him patience, that it took time to win an animal’s trust, and he figured the same for her.

       Besides, did he really want to know about her problems?

       No. He couldn’t get caught up in her life. He was here to help the lost kids, not become involved with a woman.

       But the sight of Kenny’s excited face as Cleo licked his hand stirred emotions deep inside him. And so did Rachel’s obvious love for her son.

       Unlike his own mother…

       Don’t go there, Johnny.

       “Let’s step inside the dining hall and I’ll introduce you to Ms. Ellen. She’ll be the main cook and is the head honcho in the kitchen.”

       “Can I stay out here and play with Cleo?” Kenny asked.

       Rachel glanced around the property, then chewed on her bottom lip as if debating whether she should leave him alone.

       “It’s okay,” Johnny assured her. “It’s safe here, Rachel.”

       Her gaze jerked to his, and for a brief second fear registered. That and distrust.

       Did she think he would hurt her?

       Maybe she had seen that news story…

       But she conducted another visual sweep of the area, then gave a reluctant nod to her son. “Okay, Kenny, but stay here by the building. Don’t wander off.”

       Kenny plunked down on the grass under a Texas red oak, and Cleo rested her head in his lap. “Then we can see the puppies?”

       Johnny nodded. “Do as your mama says and yes, then we’ll see Cleo’s pups.”

       Kenny’s crooked teeth shone as he bobbed his head up and down, then he cuddled the dog and began to rub her belly.

       “He’s always wanted a pet,” Rachel confessed as they climbed the porch steps and entered the cafeteria-style room. “But I hope he doesn’t become too attached.”

       Meaning she probably didn’t plan on sticking around. “We’ll probably be looking for homes for the pups,” Johnny said anyway.

       She glanced at him, but again that wary expression returned. But she was saved from answering by Ms. Ellen, who came bounding around the corner of the kitchen.

       The scent of homemade cinnamon rolls filled the air, and Johnny’s stomach growled.

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