He left then, giving her heart a one-two punch. And as Miranda measured the oats and opened a box of brown sugar, it crossed her mind that he’d probably spoken from experience. He’d pulled down big bucks in Hollywood, in a capacity similar to Wesley Carlisle’s.
But that was dumb. She would never have described Wes as a cowboy even though he liked to dress the part. True cowboys were good men like her father had been.
Miranda did deal in reality. Most men wouldn’t give a second thought to tossing her out on her ear she knew. There was more cowboy in Linc Parker than he apparently cared to admit.
That kind of thinking will get you in trouble, girl!
As she popped the biscuits in the oven, Miranda mulled over the advice Doug Kimbrough might have given her in these circumstances. He’d tell her to go with her gut instinct. In his slow drawl, her dad would declare that she had the brains to know if a man was all foam and no beer. Just remembering his sage advice made her sad. But…nothing really held her here. She could pull up stakes and leave anytime.
The kids straggled in sleepy-eyed, following the scent of breakfast. The moment Linc joined them for the meal, Miranda held her breath. Would he rat on her?
But breakfast went off without a hitch. He virtually ignored her, chatting instead with the older boys about the work that lay ahead.
Readying the bunkhouses for habitation couldn’t happen too quickly to suit Miranda. The sooner she moved to one of the bunkhouses where she risked fewer encounters with Parker of the type she’d had in the hallway this morning, the better her life would be.
“Is it okay if I save some of these biscuits to eat for lunch?” Wolfie asked, breaking the rare silence that had fallen over the table.
“As opposed to eating them now?” Miranda inquired.
“It’s a long time till supper. If we get supper,” Wolfie said.
Linc made an impatient gesture. “As long as you live here, son, there’ll be food on your plate. That is—” he shot Miranda a worried glance “—if Randi agrees to cook until I hire someone.”
“Why would she quit?” Jenny paused with a buttered biscuit halfway to her darkly lipsticked mouth. “You’re paying her, aren’t you, Mr. Parker? Has something changed since we struck our deal last night?”
Miranda and Linc shared a fast guilty look.
Linc read in Randi’s eyes a real fear that he’d expose her. It reminded him too strongly of the absence of trust he’d sometimes seen in his sister’s gaze.
Wanting Randi to view him as the cowboy she’d described earlier, Linc stated lightly, “Let’s settle first on everyone calling me Linc, instead of Mr. Parker. As for pay, I’ll be fair. And I don’t want you working every blessed hour of the day. How does five hours sound? Randi, keep a close tally of your time. If you go over five because of kitchen duties taking longer, we’ll renegotiate.”
She nodded, even though merely looking at him scrambled her breathing. Damn, she had to avoid this man for both their sakes. Why did he have to be so decent, so charming, so…attractive? But she knew her response to him was more than simple physical attraction.
“Fine,” was all she managed to squeak out. Because she’d die if anyone, especially Linc, guessed the way she really felt.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHORTLY AFTER MIRANDA finished drying and storing the last of the breakfast dishes, a horse van bumped down the lane and stopped in front of the house. Linc and the boys emerged from the bunkhouse as the girls gathered on the porch to watch the unloading process. Linc hurried to help the driver lower the trailer ramp.
“They’re beautiful.” Jenny sounded awed, even if she cracked her gum so loudly it startled a small dappled mare Linc backed from the van. The mare shied and bucked on the ramp. It took Linc and a second man to subdue the frisky animal.
“We’ll put them in the corral for now, rather than the barn, which I’m sure needs cleaning.”
“Anywhere you want ’em, bud. We just deliver the goods.” The driver extended a clipboard with a bill of lading for Linc to sign.
Miranda heard his deep sigh from where she stood on the top porch step. “Mucking out stalls is our job,” she called, indicating herself and Jenny.
“Mucking. Yuck, what a disgusting word.” Jenny hung back as Miranda descended the steps.
Hana ran up and slipped her hand into Miranda’s, clearly not intending to be left out. It wasn’t until they’d nearly reached the horse van and Miranda glanced back that she noticed the disappointment on Cassie’s face. “Hana, honey, take Scraps and go to the barn with Jenny. I’ll guide Cassie’s wheelchair over the rough spots along the path.”
“Can I really help clean the barn?” Though Cassie sounded unsure, her eyes lost their dullness as Miranda maneuvered her chair behind the others.
“You can keep Scraps out from underfoot. He can be a pest at times.”
“I wish I could ride one of the horses,” Cassie murmured wistfully.
Miranda, who’d heard of therapeutic riding programs for disabled children, made a mental note to find out more about them. But rather than get the girl’s hopes up, she asked Cassie some specific questions about her bad hip.
“I can’t remember any doctors saying I had hip pins. What are they, Randi? Like hairpins?”
“Goodness, no. They’re small steel rods designed to replace badly broken hipbones. They’re hard to describe, honey, and nothing you need to worry about. I was curious as to what treatment you’d had, that’s all.”
The subject was dropped—largely because the barn turned out to be a smellier mess than either the kitchen or bunkhouse.
Jenny balked at the entrance.
“This is what Linc’s paying us for,” Miranda reminded her. The prospect of money stirred the younger girl to action. After opening both front and back doors, they swept, hauled, dumped and hosed until well past noon. They might not have taken a break even then, if it hadn’t been for the truck delivering the large household items Linc had ordered yesterday.
Miranda led the men who’d unloaded the dishwasher into the house. She scrubbed her hands and stayed to fix soup and sandwiches while the workmen hooked up water hoses and explained how to use the washer. “Thanks,” she called, as they started out the back door. “Hey, will you tell Mr. Parker and the kids it’s time for lunch?”
She expected everyone to be excited over the horses and the new equipment, but no one talked. “Did y’all wash your hands thoroughly?” Her voice blurred with the Southern inflection.
The little kids promptly extended their hands for her to inspect. The others grimaced. “Like, who appointed you mother?” Eric said peevishly.
“Enough.” Linc scowled around the table. “Eat. We have a lot to do before we lose daylight.”
“Aren’t there lights in the bunkhouse?” Miranda passed a plate of sandwiches to Shawn, expecting an affirmative answer, but got none. “Gosh, why is everybody so down? We have new heaters, mattresses, a dishwasher and horses. It’s like an early Christmas.”
Linc cleared his throat. “I told the boys we’ll probably have to continue sharing the house until I can get a contractor out here to rewire the lights and add a bathroom to the bunkhouses. It’s unbelievable to me, the shape they’re in.”
“I like sleeping in the house.”
All eyes suddenly zeroed in on the tiny speaker. Up to this point, Hana had been as silent as a shadow.
Cassie said conspiratorially, “Me, too. ’Cause last night’s the first time Hana didn’t have nightmares. And she didn’t wet the bed.”
“That’s right.” Miranda ruffled Hana’s blond curls. “We’re all so proud of you, honey. Aren’t we?” Her glare elicited a rapid turnaround from the others. It wasn’t until silence had descended again that she realized more than weariness caused Linc’s brooding. She let the others leave the table and used clearing it as an excuse to hang back. She wanted to talk to Linc.
“Something’s bothering you. Have you run out of money?”
“If it’s none of my business, tell me to butt out. I had an ulterior motive for waylaying you that doesn’t concern the ranch.”
Linc’s eyes opened wide at that admission. She couldn’t possibly have guessed how long he’d lain awake last night deliberating over her. Over whether or not to let her stay. Over how to treat her as opposed to the real teens. Over imagining how her lips would taste and her body would feel under his hands.
Ignoring his prolonged silence, Miranda plunged ahead. “Every day that passes without Wolfie and Cassie going to school is a loss for them. I realize you’re busy, Parker— Linc. But you need to enroll them as quickly as possible and arrange for the bus to pick them up at the end of the lane. But…they can’t go in the clothes they have. The kids at school will eat them alive.”
His jaw tightened, then relaxed. Linc jerked his head back to avoid her wild gestures. “Dammit, Randi, why me? Oasis literally abandoned them. That’s the larger part of my problem. This morning, when we took a break, I phoned our area Social Services office. I’d already been told they’re in the process of getting a new director named Mrs. Bishop. The only person in the office until after Thanksgiving is a receptionist. She’s arranged a visit right after the holiday. According to her, the kids aren’t even listed on their rolls. Wolfie told me his and Hana’s last name is Schmitt, and Cassie’s is Rhodes. Apparently those names aren’t showing up in the computer.”
“How can that be? Unless—do you suppose it’s because Oasis is a private foundation? Could they have paid care costs out of their own resources? Can you phone and ask them?”
“I tried to reach Oasis. Their phone’s been disconnected. And a bigger headache—the receptionist told me the foundation is under investigation for something like twenty counts of fraud. She said Oasis lost state funding ten months ago, and her records show that all children should have been removed from their care at that time.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish I were.” He traced the deep creases that bracketed his mouth with a forefinger and thumb.
“This is ridiculous, Linc. Someone has to be handling this area’s needy families until the new director comes on board. They can’t have left the office unstaffed.”
“As I understand it, two overloaded caseworkers from neighboring counties come in once a week to authorize services already in place. New cases are being deferred.”
“That’s terrible! What if those houseparents had taken off and you hadn’t shown up as planned? You said they couldn’t wait to be gone. Shoot—that explains the awful conditions here. I mean, if Oasis lost operating funds ten months back…”
“Yeah.” Linc sounded defeated as he pulled thick work gloves out of his back pocket and began putting them on. “It appears the kids stay here until after Turkey Day. Or maybe longer. The receptionist promised to put me on the director’s list. But, she said, Rascal Ranch sits in sort of a no man’s land. She thinks there’s been some debate as to which service area we actually belong in.”
“Great! Well, we’re getting by okay. And…you really have no choice.”
“My biggest worry is, what if other teens pick up my flyers? I had my contact person tell the police I’d take up to a dozen in my program. I actually thought I could handle twelve to fifteen based on the sleeping capacity of each bunkhouse. I’d been told to expect some kids to come and others to go. My mistake was in not checking the property out myself. How my friend Montoya missed the fact that there’s just one broken-down outhouse to serve two bunkhouses…” He shook his head. “But in John’s defense, I did push him to close the deal fast.”
Feeling Linc’s frustration, yet secretly glad for the children’s sake that they’d get to stay on a while, Miranda forgot herself and gripped his arm. “Have a little faith. These kids have overcome far worse. All of them. Why not cut yourself some slack?”
Her face was so close, Linc had to battle an urge to kiss her. He found the changing colors in her smoky eyes compelling. And the faint scent of soap and shampoo clung to her, even after the hard morning she’d put in shoveling out the barn. He saw her chin automatically tilt higher. If he leaned forward like this, in slow motion… It was so, so tempting.
Her eyes began drifting shut. Linc had just tasted the slightest brush of her soft lips when Eric’s strident yell rocked them both back on their heels.
“Linc, where are you? Shawn fell when we were taking down old curtains. The ladder broke.”
Taking a last rueful look at Randi’s lovely features, Linc threw up his hands and bolted from the room.
Miranda crossed her arms to rub away a smattering of goose bumps. She allowed only one twinge of regret for a moment lost. A moment that shouldn’t have happened at all.
Worry for Shawn succeeded in erasing her self-pity. And although she dashed out of the house only seconds behind Linc, his broad back was disappearing through the bunkhouse door as she plunged off the porch in a single leap and took off running after him.
Luckily Shawn had extracted himself from the broken pieces of the ladder. He was sitting, gingerly testing for sprains or breaks by the time Linc and Miranda burst onto the scene. “Did you break anything?” Linc demanded, bending anxiously over the boy.
“The ladder. And I ripped the curtain rod out of the wall.”
“I mean, did you break any bones?”
“Naw, I don’t think so. Comes from having all this extra padding.” Shawn grabbed a fistful of the excess blubber that put a strain on all his shirt buttons. “I feel like an idiot, though.”
“Sorry, Mr. Parker. I thought he was hurt bad!” Eric exclaimed. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“It’s Linc, remember? And there’s nothing to be sorry about. It could’ve been a disaster. I just realized I have no idea where there’s a clinic, or if this area has 911 service.” He extended a hand to help Shawn up. “You’re sure you’re all right? I can find out about a clinic and have you checked over by a doctor.”
“My old man hurt me way worse, knocking me across the room. A clinic would probably want his name because he still covers me on his insurance. At least I think I’m still on his policy. Last I heard, his lawyers said he hadda pay premiums until I turn eighteen. That’s not for another year.”
Linc didn’t comment, but he recalled his lawyers making the same recommendation regarding Felicity. Apparently someone in the firm had gotten wind of his sister being served alcohol at a Hollywood nightclub. His lawyers increased his indemnity, saying it could kill him financially if she drank and drove. Especially if she had an accident that took anyone with her. That should’ve been a wake-up call. Instead, he’d questioned her about her activities, and she’d assured him someone was telling him lies. Yeah, she sneaked into nightclubs, but only to hear the band and the singers. He’d bought her story hook, line and sinker.
Linc growled something indecipherable, followed by, “There’ll be no more climbing ladders or anything else unless I’m on hand. Shawn, take the rest of the afternoon off. I’m expecting delivery of our farm equipment in the morning. It’s more important that we get those fields turned and planted before bad weather sets in than it is making this bunkhouse livable. I can’t let you sleep out here without a bathroom, anyway.”
“I feel fine, Linc. I can still paint walls and stuff.”
Miranda, seeing Linc was shaken and truly wanted Shawn to rest, attempted to offer an alternative. “Or you can come out to the barn and keep Cassie company. She’s frustrated about not being able to help more.”
“Yeah, sure. I know how she feels.” Shawn shuffled his bulk out after Miranda.
“Or we could go fishin’,” Wolfie said hopefully.
“That you could, and I’ll join you,” Linc said. “Can you cook trout?” he asked Miranda. She was still within earshot.
“If it’s in the cookbook I bought, sure,” she called back.
&nb
sp; SHE WAS SECRETLY GLAD no one caught any fish she’d have to clean. They all had exciting tales of near misses, however. Jenny complained bitterly that she and Miranda had to stay behind and finish the barn so the horses had a place to sleep. Exhausted, everyone yawned over Miranda’s supper of pot roast with all the trimmings. Except for Wolfie. He held out his plate for seconds and then asked for a third serving. “I wanted fish for supper, but I’ve never tasted anything so good,” he said, smacking his lips.
Miranda eyed the food disappearing from his plate. “I’m glad you like what I fixed, Wolfie. But don’t eat too much or you’ll be up with a stomachache tonight.”
His gaze swerved between her, his plate and Linc. “I am kinda full. Is it okay if I save this and eat it for breakfast?”
“You may. Or you can let Scraps have it. And in the morning you can share the ham, eggs and hash browns I’ll be cooking.”
The boy vacillated. The expression on his face would’ve been comical if it wasn’t so heartbreaking to be aware of the source of his indecision. “Really, Wolfie, there’s food enough to go around,” Miranda told him. “Hey, when you and Cassie attended school, didn’t your teachers worry about your lack of lunch?”
“We got a free hot lunch,” Cassie said solemnly. “That was the best part about school, huh, Wolfie?”
“Yeah. Me and Cassie tried to save stuff so we could split it with Hana when we got home. But sometimes I just…couldn’t.”
Linc, recapping the gallon of milk, had seemed content to let the others talk. But when his gaze settled on the youngest child, he asked, “Hana, what did you do while the others were at school?”
“I didn’t like them bein’ gone. Miz Tucker said I hadda stay inside by my bed. So I cried and cried till I fell asleep.”
Linc and Miranda exchanged looks of disbelief. Even the teens made noises denoting shock. But it was Linc who reached out and smoothed away the pinched lines from the little girl’s face. “Hana, love, I guarantee no one’s going to leave you alone again, even if Wolfie and Cassie go off to school.”
A Cowboy at Heart Page 13