The Trouble with Josh. Marilyn Pappano

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СКАЧАТЬ I haven’t been arrested in a year, and that last time wasn’t my fault. She told me she didn’t want to leave with that guy.”

      Tate gave him a dry look as he spliced two strands of wire together. “She was underage, and that ‘guy’ was her father. You’re lucky all they did was lock you up until you were sober.”

      “She looked a lot older. Even the sheriff thought so.” Josh faked a sorrowful look. “It’s a sad day when a man has to ask a woman in a bar for ID to find out how old she is.”

      “Then again, a man could try meeting a woman someplace other than a bar.”

      Josh cheerfully shook his head. “Sorry, but we’re fresh out of pesky reporters wanting to write about the old man.” That was how Tate had met his wife. Retired senator Boyd Chaney had hired Natalie to write his biography, and had required that she gain the cooperation of his six ex-wives and nine children, including the illegitimate son he’d never recognized—Josh himself. There had been a little passing around of identities, a quick trip out of town for Josh and his mother, plenty of lies and deception and, ultimately, a happy ending. Tate and Natalie had been married four years now and had a little boy, J.T.

      But how many times was something like that likely to happen? Maybe once in a blue moon? Which meant Josh was out of luck. He had to settle for meeting women the old-fashioned way…not that he was looking to settle down just yet. He figured one of these days the carousing would stop being fun, and then he would know it was time to give it up. To pick one woman, get married and start acting respectable, like Tate.

      Of course, Tate had been acting respectable ever since he was eighteen, when his girlfriend had handed their newborn son, Jordan, to him, then walked out of their lives.

      And Josh hadn’t behaved respectably in…well, ever. He liked being the disreputable Rawlins, the one with plenty of wild oats to sow, the impulsive one, the fun one. He wasn’t in any rush to give that up.

      “You have any plans for this evening?” Tate asked.

      Other than dates when he was seeing someone in particular, Josh had a tendency to not make plans. He was single, his own boss—at least, when Tate wasn’t giving him orders—and he had no responsibilities outside his family. He was free to go where he wanted when he wanted. Why mess it up with plans?

      But when he opened his mouth to say no as he snugged the last broken strands together to splice, the wrong words came out. “I thought I might drop by Frenchy’s—have a beer and play a game or two of pool.”

      “Gee, what made me think that’s where you’d be?” Tate teased. “Must have been you telling the pretty woman it was a good place for a cold beer. Maybe a good place to have a dance or two, pick up someone like…hmm, maybe her. At least this one’s definitely past the age of consent.”

      Josh scowled at him as he swung into the saddle. It would serve Tate right if Josh proved him wrong and showed up for supper tonight just like he did most other nights, then went home—alone. Though he wasn’t quite sure how his sleeping alone tonight while Tate snuggled up with his wife would prove anything.

      “Why don’t you go on and start checking the fence?” Tate suggested. “I’ll take care of this, then meet you back at the house for lunch.”

      Josh didn’t argue. He just nodded in agreement, then turned his gelding north. He’d lived all but the first few years of his life on this ranch, and he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. It hadn’t been an easy life to start. Lucinda had had her hands full trying to run the ranch and raise two boys without much help from their fathers. By the time Tate had turned fifteen, he’d put in a full day at school, plus another on the ranch, and he’d still managed to find time to play football and baseball and get his girlfriend pregnant.

      Josh had skipped the sports, other than a little rodeoing, and the pregnant girlfriend, thank God, but other than that, his life had been pretty much the same. It wasn’t so bad now. The days were still long, the work still hard, but their mom helped out, and when Tate’s son, Jordan, came home from college on weekends, he did more than his share. Even Natalie—the best example of a city girl Josh had ever known—was more than willing to saddle up or mend a fence when necessary.

      They didn’t have the biggest spread around, but it was about as big as they could handle, and big enough to provide them with a comfortable living. They would never get rich, but, hell, that had never been a priority in their lives. Tate had wanted to be a good father to Jordan, hang on to the land, stay close to his mother and brother, and someday expand his own family, and he’d done that. Josh just wanted to maintain the status quo—live on and work the ranch, see his family every day and have a good time. He’d enjoyed the first thirty-three years of his life, and he intended to enjoy the rest of it just as much.

      Though the sun was shining brightly overhead, occasionally there was a chill in the breeze as it shifted directions. October in Oklahoma couldn’t be beat anytime, anywhere, in his opinion. The hundred-degree-plus temperatures of August and often September were gone, the leaves were turning red and gold, and even the air smelled sweeter. The sky was a clear blue this morning, with only a few thin clouds that one good wind would blow into nothing but fluff, and the fragrant scent of wood smoke from the north indicated that their neighbors were burning the timber they’d bulldozed last spring.

      That was a job he had to do soon—after putting it off for eight years, he’d finally cleared out some trees around his house—but he was waiting for the nights to get colder. He planned to pick some weekend when Jordan and Michaela Scott, his nephew’s best friend and their neighbor, were home from college, and the two families could get together for a wiener roast. There wasn’t much better than a cold night, a blazing fire, hot dogs, roasted marshmallows and a pretty woman.

      The horse maneuvered through timber and over sandstone without much guidance from Josh, who checked the five strands of barbed wire that ran from post to post. This was a mindless job—one that he liked, of course. He was good at mindless tasks because his thoughts certainly liked to wander. For a moment he let them wander to the stranger.

      Where was she from? What had brought her here? And why had she chosen their little dirt road for a drive? He was pretty sure she wasn’t visiting anyone locally—in a town like Hickory Bluff, news like that got around—and that meant she wasn’t staying locally since the nearest motel was twenty miles away in Dixon. Well, there was that old campground up at the lake—though not much of a campground and not much of a lake. Besides, she sure didn’t look the camping type. Or the small-town type. Definitely not the country type.

      That left the here-for-a-day-or-two-then-gone type. Most definitely his type.

      The sun was straight up in the sky when he got back to the barn. Natalie was standing at the corral fence, her arm around J.T.’s middle as he balanced on the top rail. She looked over her shoulder and smiled in greeting. Long-legged, red-haired and blue-eyed, she was exactly the sort of woman Tate had always been a sucker for. Looks aside, she was also sweet, generous, kind, and loved Jordan as if he were her own. If Josh knew his brother, he’d started falling in love with her the moment they’d met—and hell, if Tate hadn’t, maybe Josh would have.

      “Hey, Uncle Josh!” With Natalie’s help, J.T. scrambled to the ground, then ran over, arms extended. Josh swung him onto his hip. “Look at me! I’m a nastronaut!”

      “That’s pretty cool, J.T. Are you going off in a spaceship?”

      The boy bobbed his head as he said, “Nooo, silly. This is for ’alloween. I’m jus’ pretendin’.”

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