A Cowboy at Heart

by Roz Denny Fox

  “I can cook, Jenny. And I presume you can run a vacuum and make beds.”

  Jenny wrinkled her nose. “I told you I was responsible for practically raising four brothers and sisters.”

  “And you didn’t cook?” Miranda raised an eyebrow as she scooped a couple of items into her basket.

  “I microwaved macaroni and cheese, canned spaghetti and soup. Lots of soup. Oh, and we ate tons of cereal.”

  “Didn’t you ever get tired of eating the same old stuff?”

  “Sure, but it was cheap. As it was, I had to fight my mother for her welfare check before she spent it all on booze. Look, I did the best I could.”

  “I’m sorry, Jen. Living like that must have been rough for you and your brothers and sisters.”

  “That’s why I want to make it as a singer. I’d live on easy street and never have to worry about being cold or hungry. The really hot babes live in million-dollar mansions. They bop around the country staying in five-star hotels. I mean, how hard is singing an hour or so a day, you know what I mean?”

  A shiver walked its way up Miranda’s spine. “That is so off the mark, Jenny.”

  “Right. Like you’re an authority. Tell me you feel sorry for Britney or Christina or that rapper, Nelly. They’re laughing all the way to the bank.”

  Miranda saw deep waters ahead. She ought to shut up rather than plunge in up to her eyeballs. She ought to. “You’ve named stars who are at their peak today. Where will they be in five years? In ten?”

  “Who cares? They’ll have made their money.”

  “Maybe a few. What about the singers who crack up, go repeatedly into rehab or even commit suicide? Then there are the performers who are bilked out of their fortunes by crappy managers. Oh, and don’t forget the ones who fritter away what they did make trying to remain forever young. It’s a tough business, Jenny.”

  “I don’t care.” Jenny flounced down the aisle toward the cashier. “Eric is real smart. Sure, he smokes a little weed now and then to…to help expand his creativity. We’ve talked about hitting it big, touring for a year or so, then quitting so we can enjoy life. Y’know what I mean?”

  “Dream on,” Miranda muttered, too low for Jenny to really hear.

  “Hey, look at this cool nail polish. Silver and gold glitter. Can we afford to buy one of each?”

  Miranda turned from unloading the basket at the counter. “I don’t want to use Parker’s money frivolously.”

  “What’s the difference between nail polish and that package of barrettes you grabbed back there? I saw you, so don’t deny it.”

  “I won’t deny it. Those are for Cassie and Hana. The pack was on sale for fifty-nine cents and gives the girls three sets each. Did you see how happy they were last night just to have me wash and brush their hair? Poor kids, they’ve had precious little attention. This morning when I cut my pink hair ribbon in half and tied up Cassie’s pigtails, you’d have thought I’d given her a gold mine. Hana wanted ribbons, too. She looked so resigned when I said I only had one ribbon. I almost cried.”

  Jenny set the polish back on the shelf. “You’re getting too attached to the kids, Randi. That’s not good. Mr. Parker’s gonna boot ’em out as soon as he can. And what if their next foster parents don’t spoil them with pretty things? Chances are they won’t.”

  “Maybe Parker’s softer than he wants us to think. I saw he had you buy the girls underwear. I know he was horrified because theirs was so old and gray.”

  “Oh, you do live in la la land. Don’t forget I knew his sister. She was pathetic in so many ways. Felicity bought people’s affection. Why? Because her big brother couldn’t be bothered. He was too busy hustling a buck.”

  Miranda paid the cashier. “Can’t you see how bad he feels about that? It’s why he bought the ranch. People change.”

  “Eric says guys like Lincoln Parker don’t change their stripes. Once a skunk, always a skunk.”

  Grabbing her purchases, Miranda headed out. “It may come as a surprise, Jenny, but Eric doesn’t know everything.”

  That comment shut the younger girl up. And like a normal teen, she immediately skipped on to another subject nearer and dearer to her heart. “Let’s stop at that record shop we passed.”

  “You don’t have money to buy anything.” Miranda couldn’t let Jenny go back there. Seeing her cutout had been a shock, especially as it showed her wearing the outfit she’d had on at her last performance. And judging by the pose, the way her eyes were closed and the look of anguish on her face, Wes must’ve had someone take the photo during her last song, “A Cowboy at Heart,” the one she’d written to honor her dad. She’d felt genuine anguish. And who knew what likeness was on the CD cover? Eric was sharp when it came to remembering songs and artists. Even though he threatened to puke at the mention of country, that didn’t mean he wasn’t up on what was popular.

  While she was trying to figure out how to dissuade Jenny, deliverance came in the form of Linc Parker.

  The minute they stepped out of the drugstore, he called to them from across the street. “Randi, Jenny. Where are the others? I thought you were all going for ice cream.”

  Randi waved, grabbed Jenny’s sleeve and began pulling her across the street. “We remembered some drugstore items that weren’t on the grocery list. The boys are watching the little kids. Look, they’re coming out of the ice-cream shop now.”

  Jenny jerked loose from Randi’s grip. “You don’t have to haul me along like I’m Hana’s age. If you ask Mr. Parker, I’ll bet he’d let us browse in the record store,” she hissed.

  “I’m not asking. It’s getting late. You know the mess we left. I think we ought to get under way. Otherwise we’ll be up half the night scrubbing.”

  “That’s not up to us. Sheesh, you act like it’s our ranch. Yours, anyway.”

  “I do not. Maybe you don’t have a problem sleeping in dirty places. I do.”

  “Sometimes you don’t act like the rest of us. Sure, it’s a mess, but the house has heat and a roof. That’s heaven compared to some of the spots me and the guys have bunked in.”

  Miranda’s mouth opened and shut several times. She had to think about how a truly homeless person might react to Jenny’s accusation. “Uh…did you hear me complain on our trek north? I slept at rest stops, on picnic benches, right alongside you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for ragging on you, Randi.” Jenny scuffed her toe. “Do you ever wish…you could live like normal people? I hate getting yelled at for trying to wash in public rest rooms by someone who has no idea what it’s like to go for days without hot water. And there’s the looks we get when we hang out at fast-food restaurants, just praying some rich kid will toss out half of a perfectly good hamburger.”

  Miranda’s stomach lurched. The truth was, she couldn’t relate. But since she’d hooked up with Jenny and her friends, she really was trying to understand. “When Social Services took your brothers and sisters, why didn’t you let them help you?”

  “Help me how? The caseworker said I’d missed so much school I’d have to go back to ninth grade. And let those rich snots make fun of me for being dumb? Gimme a break.”

  Having successfully crossed the street without getting run over, they stopped talking when they reached the other side. Parker had gone into the ice-cream shop and now came out pushing Cassie’s wheelchair. He joined the others.

  “You sure were gone a long time if you only bought what’s in that dinky sack,” Shawn complained to Randi and Jenny. “We didn’t sign on to baby-sit, you know.”

  Linc relieved Randi of the sack under discussion. He winked at Shawn as he set the sack on Cassie’s lap. “Let that be a major lesson about women, fellows. There is no such thing as a quick trip to a store.”

  “That’s because men expect women to handle all their shopping. For food, clothes, gifts and anything else that crops up.” Miranda stuffed her change in the breast pocket of his shirt. “Receipts for what I spent are in the respective bags.”

&
nbsp; Seeing her, Eric dug in his pocket and pulled out cash wrapped in a cash-register receipt. “This accounts for what we spent at the feed store. We didn’t get a slip for the ice cream. It came to under ten bucks, didn’t it, Randi?”

  Linc waved away the explanation as they went back to the vehicle.

  “There’s no room for us.” Randi, who’d opened the door and started to lift Cassie into her seat, put her back in the wheelchair.

  “The feed store has a trailer for five hundred bucks. That’ll work.”

  Linc leaned in past Randi. Their bodies brushed as he arranged the bags and sacks. They both jumped apart as if they’d been burned, and Linc actually wondered if some kind of shock had passed between them. One thing was for darned sure: he hadn’t stopped to realize that beneath Randi’s bulky jacket, she had breasts. Of course he knew she had them, but…

  “Hand me that damned chair,” he told Greg, who stood nearest the side door. “We’ll make do until we can go pick up the trailer.” Ordering Randi to take her seat, Linc proceeded to erect a barrier of sleeping bags between them, beginning with two he plopped in her lap. Without so much as glancing at her, he jammed the chair in at an angle that effectively fenced her off from the driver’s seat.

  “It’s a cinch you don’t expect Randi to help load the trailer,” Shawn noted.

  “I wouldn’t even if she could get out. Women and kids have no business lifting fifty-pound bags.”

  “Boy,” Jenny exclaimed, “you just burst Randi’s balloon. She hoped you’d give us the same deal you offered the boys to earn money.”

  Miranda glared. “If I’d had any clue Parker was so sexist, I’d never have suggested it, Jenny.”

  Jenny snickered.

  His feathers more than ruffled, Linc slammed his door and ground the engine when he started it. “Too bad no one ever taught you to keep a civil tongue in your head.” Linc stressed the point for two reasons. One to shut Randi up and, two, to clamp a lid on his own wayward thoughts. He was far more aware of Randi-with-no-last-name than he should be.

  He probably should’ve told her just to leave. Now the best he could hope was that whoever answered his ad for a housekeeper turned out to be the eagle-eyed sort. He might know Randi was older than her friends, but she wanted to keep the truth from them. That meant he had to squelch any feelings of the type he’d just experienced.

  Loading fifty-pound bags of fertilizer and feed was precisely what he needed to wear himself out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RANDI RECOGNIZED the sexual zing that had accompanied her body’s accidental brush with Linc Parker’s solid muscles. True, in the past, she’d been too busy with her career to develop any significant relationships. That didn’t mean her head was always in the sand, or that she was still a virgin.

  In spite of working in close proximity with many male musicians and performers, she could count on two fingers the times she’d felt like this. That was more or less her yardstick for what a good romantic response should be. Neither of the other times had the feeling been as strong or immediate as with Linc Parker—of all people.

  Oh, this was bad! Not good at all. Potential problems raced through Miranda’s head. She tried with unsteady fingers to buckle her seat belt.

  “Need some help with that?”

  Her fingers stilled. She dropped the belt the minute he turned around. But she saw that he looked annoyed with her.

  Embarrassed and afraid her face showed it, Miranda firmly grasped both ends of the seat belt. The loud snap of the buckle felt better than if she’d given in to the childish inclination to stick her tongue out at him.

  Parker had just validated something she’d long suspected. Men who’d looked at her with desire in the past only saw Misty, the wealthy, much-hyped country star. Plain Miranda Kimbrough didn’t stir even basic male hormones.

  Not knowing whether to be relieved or chagrined, she withdrew into a corner of her seat and let the others talk on the drive back to the ranch. At the lunch stop, when she and Linc might have engaged in small talk, he busied himself helping the little kids with their chicken, biscuits and coleslaw.

  Once they reached the ranch, Linc set up a human chain designed to quickly unload the SUV and the trailer. He barked out cleaning assignments to everyone but Cassie and Hana.

  Cassie wheeled her chair right up to Linc’s leg. She tugged on his jeans. In the middle of telling the boys where to stack the new bedding and where to dispose of the old sheets, Linc’s first response to her insistent tug was a sharp, “What? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Then he glanced down, and his face lost all its harshness.

  “Oh, Cassie.” Instantly he knelt to her level, and Miranda witnessed a huge change in his demeanor. She felt another odd twist in her belly.

  “Mr. Parker, I wanna help. Hana, too. I’m strong and Hana’s fast. I’ll bet we can clean out the bottom kitchen cupboards for Randi and Jenny.”

  Linc stuttered a bit, saying he didn’t want them getting hurt, and that they should try to stay out from underfoot. But deep in the girl’s eyes, he saw something that quickly made him relent. A subtle message that said she’d been invisible for too long. Straightening, Linc found his eyes meeting Randi’s. Her arms were laden with grocery sacks. Jenny had already disappeared into the kitchen with a load.

  “Can you and Jenny use four more hands in the kitchen?” Linc’s dark-blond brows dove together, practically daring her to refuse.

  She’d never hurt Cassie’s feelings. The big dummy couldn’t tell that about her? Miranda donned a really warm smile. Not for Linc, but for the two little girls, and she made that plain. “I have the very job for two pairs of helping hands. Cassie, remember the rolls of shelf paper I found on sale today? You and Hana can unroll them so Jenny and I can cut pieces to cover the shelves and drawers once they’re cleaned.”

  Wolfie entered the room in time to hear. As Randi herded the girls toward the kitchen, he spoke up. “I’ll help with the shelf paper,” he volunteered. “I’m done sweeping the bedroom floors like Mr. Parker asked. That way, if anything happens to the rolls of shelf paper, you can beat me, instead of Hana or Cassie.”

  Linc and Miranda both spoke at once, Linc more loudly, “Wolfie, I thought I’d made it perfectly clear. No one, and I mean no one, lays a hand on you kids while I’m in charge.”

  The boy’s chin wobbled. “I know that’s what you said. But big people lie.”

  “No,” Linc repeated firmly. “You have my word, son. I don’t know how to say it more clearly. You wouldn’t know, but where I lived and worked before, well…people knew they could count on my word.”

  “Yeah, but in town you went to hire a house mom. What if she’s like Mrs. Tucker?”

  Linc rubbed the back of his neck, warding off tension. His action had Miranda hesitating at the kitchen door. “Does that look mean you hired someone capable of striking a child?” she asked severely.

  “Of course not! I, uh, didn’t have any luck hiring anyone. I put an ad in the local paper. I’m sure we’ll have candidates calling for interviews before the week is out. I plan to scrutinize every single person and every single reference.”

  Miranda passed her sacks to Jenny, who’d come back to see what was keeping her. “Figures,” the younger girl muttered sullenly. “We’ll get the placed spiffed up, and the woman you hire won’t have anything to do but lie in bed all day.”

  “Yes, she will,” Linc declared. “Caring for a house this size and cooking for a crowd will never be a piece of cake.”

  “Speaking of cake…” Jenny tossed her head. “What’ll we do about eating until you hire this dynamo?”

  The furrows returned to Linc’s forehead. “Keep it simple. Since the boys and I will be out plowing and planting fields, we’ll be hungry enough to eat anything. And even I’m capable of making a sandwich or popping wieners in a microwave.”

  Jenny rammed her elbow in Miranda’s side so hard, she jumped and yelped.

  “Remember, we talked about Mr. Pa
rker maybe letting us work so we can get paid like the boys? So ask him,” Jenny whispered to Miranda.

  “We realize you won’t let us drive a tractor or anything,” she told Parker. “But you mentioned horses. Jenny and I can muck out stalls and feed livestock for money,” she clarified.

  “Somehow I doubt Social Services would be overjoyed to discover I’m letting girls muck out stalls. I’m sure they’ll want you learning more marketable skills.”

  “Can you call Social Services and inquire?” Miranda pressed. “Jenny and I would like to earn enough to buy stuff like cosmetics, books or CDs.”

  “Yeah!” Jenny nodded. “And like…if this was our real home, we’d hafta do that kinda junk and not get paid.”

  Miranda found Parker’s brown eyes impossible to read. “Okay, maybe not clean stalls. But between now and when you hire a cook-housekeeper, could you pay Jenny and me, instead? We’ll split the chores. Surely Social Services won’t object to a temporary situation.”

  “You’re right. Okay, you’re hired. I picked up a pay scale for housekeepers at the employment agency today. I’ll pay a weekly rate, which you two can split.” He dragged back a cuff and studied his watch. “Late as it is, I’ll have to wait and phone them tomorrow. I found out the Susanville office doesn’t serve our area. In fact, our service area is bigger. And I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” he muttered.

  Rather than give him an opportunity to reconsider, Miranda delivered a brisk impersonal smile and hustled her crew into the kitchen. Scraps bounded around her feet, but soon danced off after Hana. Miranda liked how the dog gravitated toward Hana. The two would be good company for each other when Wolfie and Cassie started back to school.

  “You shouldn’t have said CDs were one of the things we planned to use our money for,” Jenny hissed at Randi, who’d begun cleaning cupboards. “Did you see the look on Parker’s face? That comment of yours almost blew it for us.”

  “That’s silly, Jenny. If you ask me, he’s worried about Social Services pulling his license. Parker isn’t against music. Look at the tapes and CDs he has in his SUV.”