Her Texas Cowboy. Jill Lynn

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СКАЧАТЬ The place did have a certain charm—if she looked past the mess that had been left behind. For a family, it would be tiny. But for one or two people? Cozy. Quiet.

      If she could get this place cleaned up, maybe she could move out here for the next month or two. She could give Olivia, Cash and the boys their house back while still being around to help and spend time with them. Rachel pressed the pause button on her rampant thoughts. The idea was crazy. The house might not be falling to pieces, but it would take too long if she attempted it on her own. Rachel could admit it was as tempting to her as Grayson’s fort was to him, though.

      “Auntie Rachel, can I go outside?” Grayson had already zipped through the small bathroom and bedroom and must have gotten bored with the space.

      Liv let Grayson play outdoors by himself for little bits of time, so Rachel thought the same rule could apply here. “If you stay within five steps of the house.”

      “Five giant steps?”

      With his little legs? “Deal.”

      “Front and back?”

      “Just front. That way I can keep an eye on you through the windows.”

      His nose wrinkled as if to say he didn’t need that kind of supervision, but then he scampered outside.

      She moved into the bedroom, watching through the old, white-wood-framed glass window as Grayson scooted down the porch steps, and then, true to form, counted out five long strides from the house. When he reached the limit, he bent down, grabbed a stick and began drawing in the dirt.

      Rachel wandered to the east bedroom window and scanned the horizon. No more sign of the rider who had been there minutes before.

      If it had been Hunter, he was gone now. Relief rushed in, cool and sweet.

      Sometimes she looked back on what had happened with Hunter and wondered how it had all gone so wrong. How they’d switched from best friends to not speaking at all.

      Most people didn’t know that Hunter had gotten it into his head to propose to her back then. She hadn’t even told her brother, simply because Rachel had known it couldn’t happen. Getting married at such a young age might have worked out for Hunter. He’d known what he wanted and that it was here. He was a rancher. It had always been this town, this life, for him.

      But Cash had given up a lot for her, and she’d been working on maturing at the time. That hadn’t included eloping and throwing away a volleyball scholarship. Even for Hunter.

      To say the least, he hadn’t understood.

      Their relationship—even their friendship—had been crushed.

      Something skittered across the wood floor and Rachel screamed. An old brown chair had been left behind in the corner of the room, and she ran for it, jumping up. It wobbled under her weight but thankfully held. Screeches continued to slip out of her as the mouse paused to stare her down, then ran for the edge of the room.

      She shivered as it disappeared beneath some warped trim. Eek, that thing had freaked her out. Her heart stampeded, and she sucked in a calming breath, thankful no one was around to see her silly antics over such a tiny creature.

      “What are you doing?” Hunter leaned against the bedroom doorframe, arms crossed. Looking casual. Amused.

      Her eyes momentarily closed. So it had been him she’d seen. He must have left his hat somewhere, because his hair looked as though a hand had scrubbed through the short, dark blond locks only seconds before.

      Stinky, stink, stink. How long had he been standing there? She looked down at the chair under her boots, then back to him, contemplating asking, God, why? Why Hunter? Why now?

      “Nothing.”

      “Just standing on a chair in the corner of a deserted house?”

      “Yep.” Rachel didn’t have to explain anything to Hunter. For all he knew, she’d been looking at something on the ceiling. Or examining a crack in the wall. Or checking out her ability to fly if she jumped from the chair.

      The real question was, what was he doing here?

      He motioned to the floor. “Tell me that wasn’t a reaction to the cute baby mouse that just went through here.”

      Rats. He’d witnessed her dramatics.

      “What happened to the country girl I knew? The one who could ride as fast as the boys. Wasn’t afraid of snakes. Got dirtier faster than anyone else.”

      “Most of that was true, but I faked the part about snakes. I was afraid of them. Just didn’t want to admit it. If I had, you would have tormented me with them.”

      He laughed, the lines on his face softening. “Well played.” He nodded toward her strange standing place. “Don’t suppose you want any help getting out of here.” His dimples flashed. “You know, so that mean, scary mouse doesn’t get you.”

      “I’m fine.” The mouse was long gone. Wasn’t it? Either way, Rachel wasn’t going to do anything to prolong being in Hunter’s presence. Even if that creature came back out. Ran across her boot. Gave her the heebie-jeebies again.

      She could handle a little rodent. Just not the man looking at her with far too much amusement.

      Besides, with all of the noise they were making, the mouse would be miles away.

      Rachel only wished Hunter would follow suit.

      * * *

      “Don’t you have a ranch to run?” Rachel huffed loudly enough to blow the walls of the house down like the big bad wolf in the three little pigs story.

      Hunter tried to stem the curve of his mouth, but it wasn’t working. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to rile up Rachel. “Trying to get rid of me?”

      Her head tilted, ponytail bouncing with the movement. “Am I that obvious? Because I’m trying to be.”

      Despite claiming she didn’t want help, she was still standing on the chair. He might be enjoying her predicament and annoyance with him just a bit too much. It had been a few years since he’d gotten any emotional response from her, and he kind of liked knowing he still affected her, even if it meant she wanted to smack him.

      “All right, princess.” The name earned a scowl as he approached her chair/throne and offered her a hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

      Her body language screamed get lost and don’t touch in one easy-to-read display. “What are you doing?”

      “Helping you.”

      “I told you, I’m fine.” She made a shooing motion. “Just go.”

      “Now, Rach. I’m not so much of a jerk that I’m going to let you get mauled by a mouse.” Her squeak of indignation and the fire in her eyes told him how she felt about that comment. “Come on.” He grew serious and dropped the teasing act, re-offering his hand. “Let’s go.”

      “No, thank you.”

      He’d СКАЧАТЬ