The Cowboy's Housekeeper

by Lori Copeland

  She returned to the kitchen rubbing lotion into her hands, and found him refilling his tea glass.

  “I helped myself,” he said with a hint of apology, which she waved off.

  “Pour one for me too, would you?”

  She picked up the paper bag and carried it to the counter.

  “Wait.” She turned to him. “What happened to your date?”

  A blank look settled on his features. “My date?”

  “Sweet Thing. Couldn’t she make it?”

  A chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest. “She’s here. Outside.”

  “Out—” Realization hit Jessica, and she shut her eyes in renewed mortification. “Sweet Thing’s your car, isn’t she?” At his nod, she moaned. “Not so sweet-looking at the moment.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what insurance is for.”

  The only reason a man would name a car is if he really enjoyed owning it. She’d destroyed not only his brand-new pickup, but his favorite car as well. Humiliation burned in her cheeks.

  “Hey.” He spoke softly. “It’s okay. Really. We’ll let the insurance companies handle things.”

  With a grateful smile, she took down two dinner plates from the cabinet. Their elbows touched when he reached for a second tea glass, and something like an electric shock zipped up Jessica’s arm. She hurried back to the table. Being back in this place, with all those memories so fresh and tender, was messing with her emotions. Their relationship had ended a long time ago. Best keep it that way.

  Jason returned to the table as Jessica unwrapped the sandwiches and set one on each plate.

  “I’m afraid I was neglectful in my visits to Rainey and Fred in the last few years,” he admitted.

  Jessica set a plate in front of his chair. “I know what you mean. Especially after Fred passed on, I should have spent more time here, with Rainey. And now it’s too late.”

  “I’m sure it’s hard to find time to get away from your company.” He placed her tea glass in front of her, and slid the sugar bowl within reach. She hid a smile. Funny how he remembered that she liked her tea sweet, while she remembered that he didn’t.

  They seated themselves on opposite sides of the small table. Out of a decades-old habit, they sat facing each other across the table from the sides, leaving the chairs at the head and foot of the table—Fred’s and Rainey’s—empty.

  He picked up half of his sandwich and, with his elbows planted on either side of his plate, held it before his mouth. “So, tell me, Jessie. How’s life treated you over the years?”

  “Very well. And you?” Rainey had kept her informed of his activities. He’d gone from a small farmer to one of the largest land holders in the area. He had yet to marry, though according to Rainey he could have his pick of fillies in the area. According to Rainey, he favored women with brains more than silicone.

  “You’re prettier than ever,” he added in a light tone.

  Her cheeks heated. “Thank you.” She started to return the compliment, but changed her mind. This conversation needed to steer clear of personal stuff.”

  He raised his glass. “Rainey said you’re quite a success. Ladies jeans?”

  “That’s right. The line is called Fancy Duds. My partner and I started the business a few years back.”

  “They sell well?”

  “Better than I ever dreamed they would. Yes, I would say the business is successful.”

  She bit into the sandwich and closed her eyes to enjoy the taste that brought back a million memories. If her taste buds could do back-flips, they would. She chewed with relish.

  “Businesses can be a big headache,” Jason commented before taking a bite of his own sandwich.

  “I hear you’re doing okay.” She hesitated, and then related what Rainey had told her. “Seems you own about everything around here, don’t you?”

  “Not everything, but I have my fair share.” He flashed a grin and gulped his tea. “I would have thought you’d be married again by now, with a couple of kids, white picket fence and county socials every Saturday night.”

  She offered a short ironic laugh. “Afraid not. Running the business keeps me too busy.”

  Time for this conversation to take another turn. She set her sandwich down, her stomach queasy from a sudden attack of nerves. “Speaking of business, I invited you over tonight to discuss a business matter.”

  He picked up his glass of tea again. “What did you want to see me about, Jessica?”

  For some reason, she had trouble thinking clearly while looking into those intense green eyes. She stood and walked over to the large kitchen window to gaze for a moment at Aunt Rainey’s sweet-smelling lily patch, trying to bolster her courage. Drawing a deep breath, she turned back to face him.

  “Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey’s will surprised me.”

  He cocked his head, curiosity apparent. “How so? You’re the only heir, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly. “Well, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  She bit down on her lower lip. This was harder than she’d expected. Spit it out, Jessica.

  Turning to face him, she clutched the edge of the counter behind her back and blurted out the awful truth.

  “Jason, I need you.”

  Five

  Surprise flashed onto his face, while heat rose into Jessica’s. Probably not the best way to introduce the matter.

  “Uh, let me explain.”

  Eyebrows arched up beneath his hair, he gave a nod. “That would be good.”

  She drew in a breath. “In order for me to inherit Fred and Rainey’s estate, I have to return home and run this farm for six months. Either that, or it will go to Manor Methodist Church.” She rushed on. “Not that I have anything against the church inheriting. Fred and Rainey loved that church. But I can’t let them have it. The farm is mine, which means I’ll have to run it for six months.”

  The muscles in Jason’s forearm tensed before he drained his glass. “How do you propose to do that? Do you know anything about running a farm?” He set his empty glass back down on the table.

  “Absolutely nothing. I’ve been gone so many years I wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do with all those cows standing out there.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the pasture behind the house.

  Jason left the table to go to the refrigerator for more tea. “You were raised here. You’d do better than you think.”

  “I don’t want to come back here and run this farm.” Her grip on the counter tightened. “It burns me to think that Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey, even in death, have managed to tear my life up once again—” She stopped mid-sentence, yet another flush rising into her face.

  Jason filled his glass, replaced the pitcher, and then stood with his back against the refrigerator. “Then don’t do it. Your business is doing well, you said so yourself. You don’t need the money.”

  His unemotional attitude helped to steady her. “That’s true. But I have an expansion goal that I think could make a huge difference in my company. I want to open a line of designer children’s clothing.” She drew a steadying breath. “I can’t endanger the company’s financial status by making the initial investment, but with the money I’d get from selling this farm in six months…” She shrugged. The dream of the new clothing line had been just that—a dream—until Rainey’s death. Not that she would wish her aunt ill for anything in the world, but suddenly that dream was within reach…almost. Frustrated, she clenched her hand into a fist and smacked the countertop. “I can’t for the life of me imagine why they wouldn’t let me make my own decisions. My gosh, I’m twenty-five years old now—perfectly able to take care of myself.”

  “Perfectly.” Jason accompanied the sarcastic comment with a pointed glance through the window, where his Lincoln sat in the driveway.

  Jessica’s gaze followed his. “Jason, I said I was sorry. Believe me, I’ve always had a perfect driving record.”

  “Well, you blew that today, didn’t y
ou?”

  As she was about to launch a verbal dart in return, he lifted a hand. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for.” He retrieved his empty plate from the table and carried it to the sink. “I assume you asked me here for more than a meatloaf sandwich. What do you need from me?”

  A dreadful flutter erupted in her stomach. Now that the time had come, could she force herself to ask him? “You don’t have any trouble running your big ranch, do you?”

  Jason’s features took on a guarded expression, his eyes narrowing. “No. Why?”

  Asking for a personal favor wouldn’t be appropriate. But what about appealing to his business side? “You’re a business man, and I’m offering you a business opportunity.” She turned a bright smile on him. “Would you run the farm for me?”

  Jason’s mouth dropped open. Jessica’s heart thudded as she plunged on. “Don’t answer yet. I know what you’re thinking, because at first, I thought the same thing. We didn’t exactly part friends eight years ago, but now we’re two mature adults. I’m willing to set aside our old differences—”

  “Just hold it right there,” Jason said between clenched teeth.

  “No, please, hear me out.” Though his features remained blank, his body language spoke volumes. Strong arms were folded tightly across his chest. He leaned back against the refrigerator as if he wished he could put even more distance between them. Somehow, she had to convince him to run this farm for her. She raised her chin. “I’ll pay you thirty thousand dollars.”

  His eyebrows arched.

  “Just think, Jason, thirty thousand dollars. You could buy some new farm equipment, a new car.” She cast a guilty glance out the window. “Okay, maybe not a car, because my insurance is going to make that one good as new, and your truck too. But surely thirty thousand dollars could come in handy for something. You could just consider it your mad money.”

  He interrupted her again. “Look, Jessie, the last thing in the world I need is your mon—”

  “Jason, please!” She folded her hands together and placed them under her chin in a clear posture of begging. “I don’t know anyone else to ask.”

  He stared at her for a long time, before finally unfolding his arms. Then he began to pace between the fridge and the window. “Let me get this straight. You want me to run this farm for the next six months…why? As a favor to an old friend?”

  “For thirty thousand dollars,” Jessica hurried to insert.

  Jason dismissed the comment with an impatient flip of his hand. “I’m supposed to become your hired hand, to hop over here every day, run your farm, and forget all about what happened eight years ago” He shook his head slowly. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

  Was the sight of her so repugnant to him, then? The idea smarted.

  “You wouldn’t have to see me much,” Jessica promised resentfully. “I’d stay out of your way.”

  “That isn’t the point.” He came to a halt in front of her, his eyes like green ice. “There’s not enough money in the world to make me put myself back in that emotional blender you had me in years ago. I’ve spent eight long years trying to get you out of my blood. I’m not about to let you do that to me again.”

  A tense muscle worked along his jaw. With a shock, the sight brought back a flood of memories. That muscle ticked whenever emotions threatened to overpower Jason. Did he still hate her so much, then?

  “I had no choice,” she whispered softly. “Surely you know that.”

  “You had choices.”

  He stood so close she felt the heat of his breath on her face. Her bones threatened to turn to jelly, and she braced herself against the counter.

  “Did I? What choice did I really have? I was under age, and Uncle Fred had a serious heart condition. Plus, I owed them a tremendous debt of gratitude for taking me into their home, for loving me as their own child. I couldn’t break their hearts.”

  “So instead you broke mine,” Jason said.

  “And mine, too.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

  She shut her eyes against the resurgence of the agony she’d felt that day, eight years ago, when she said goodbye to her happily-ever-after out of duty.

  “It doesn’t matter, Jessie.” She opened her eyes to see him step back from her. “You’ll never have the opportunity to do it again.”

  Jessica felt the sun had gone behind a cloud as the warmth of his body moved away from her.

  In the next instant, her temper rapidly boiled to the surface. She stomped across the floor to confront him. “Well, if you were so all-fired brokenhearted over me, why didn’t you come after me—fight harder for me—do something other than just walk away? I never even saw you again until the other day at the cemetery, Jason Rawlings.”

  “You made your choice that morning, right here in this room, Ms. Cole.” He stabbed a finger at the floor where she stood.

  Her hands clenched into fists, and she fought to keep them at her side instead of pounding him. “If you had loved me, that wouldn’t have stopped you.”

  “If you had loved me, there would have been no choice,” Jason shot back.

  With an effort, she forced herself to calm, though could not manage to unclench her hands. “I don’t know how we got into this discussion in the first place.” Her voice filled the tiny kitchen, and she lowered her voice. “Will you or will you not run this farm for me for the next six months?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Jason shot back, then stomped from the room.

  She was unable to filter the sarcasm from her tone. “Well, by all means, let me know when you reach a decision.”

  He snatched his hat off Uncle Fred’s chair, gave her one last disgusted look, and slammed out of the farmhouse. She raced to the window to watch his retreat. When he reached his car, he shot another dirty look at the window, backed out of the drive, and, with his back bumper dragging on the ground, sped away.

  Jessica had just stepped out of a hot bath an hour later when her cell rang. Wrapping herself in an oversized fleecy towel, she ran to answer it.

  “Hello.”

  “I’ll run your farm for you.”

  Though she had to pull the phone from her ear at the volume of Jason’s gruff shout, relief washed over her in a wave that left her weak-kneed.

  Her reply waited a moment until she could ensure a polite tone. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be by in the morning to discuss the details. All right?”

  “All right.”

  The call ended abruptly from his end. She kissed her cell phone and did a happy little hop down the hall.

  “I’ll be here,” she told Tabby, her exuberance echoing off the walls.

  Tabby opened one disinterested eye. Apparently, he couldn’t care less.

  Six

  A loud, insistent knocking on the front door brought Jessica out of a sound sleep early the next morning. Fumbling for her robe, she groped her way downstairs, her head still fuzzy from sleep.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she shouted.

  When she arrived, she jerked the door open to find a grinning Jason on the porch. Leaning wearily against the doorsill, she glared purple daggers. “Do you realize what time it is?”

  “Yep. It’s gettin’ late.” He made a point of examining his watch. “Almost six o’clock.”

  This was an uncivilized community. She sagged more heavily against the door. “I didn’t hear you drive up.”

  One golden brown brow arched high. “I haven’t got anything to drive up in. I rode my horse over. I told her “good luck—you’re going to need it.”

  Jessica caught sight of the roan mare tearing up mouthfuls of grass behind him.

  “Surely,” he continued brightly, “you haven’t forgotten how early a farmer’s day begins.”

  “I’ve tried my best to.” She attempted a smile, which probably looked a bit sheepish. She rarely made her way out of Starbucks with a skinny vanilla latte by nine o’clock.

  “Well, Angel,” he said matter-of-factly, “you�
�d better refresh your memory. We’ve got a lot of things to talk over.”

  Placing a hand on each of her upper arms, he turned her in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Coffee would be good.” He gave her a slight push.

  She stumbled forward, aware that he fell in step behind her, chuckling. Was he always in such a good mood this early in the morning? She filled the coffeepot with water. Setting it back down on the counter, she stood on tiptoe to reach the can of coffee on the top shelf.

  “Allow me.” He plucked the coffee can off the high shelf and presented it to her like it was a gift of diamonds being given to a queen. Their fingers touched, and a thrill surged up her arm. She snatched the can and stepped back.

  “Thanks,” she managed to grind out.

  He slid into a chair at the table and watched as she spooned grounds into the basket. As she plugged in the pot to perk she asked grudgingly, “Have you had breakfast?” If he was going to work for her, she might as well try to get along with him.

  “Two hours ago.”

  “Oh goodness.” Jessica slid into the chair opposite him. “All right, then, where do we start?”

  “First of all, I need to hire at least three men to help run this farm.”

  Jessica yawned, planted an elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Fine with me.” Her eyes drifted shut. She could sure use another hour or two of sleep.

  “Second—Jessica, look at me when I’m talking.”

  She pried open bleary eyes.

  Shaking his head, he continued. “Second, I don’t have room for three more men on my farm, so they will have to stay here.”

  Jessica raised her head. “Here?”

  “That’s right. In fact, if you have no objections, I’m going to move three of my own men in, too. My bunk-house is too crowded as it is now.”