Her Texas Cowboy

by Jill Lynn

  Nah. She wouldn’t welcome his intrusion.

  Hunter watched her burst out into the sunlight, angst churning in his gut. The memories with Rachel flooded back, fast and furious. Before their relationship had gone so wrong, it had been good.

  But what had stood between them six years ago still stretched between them now. That and a lot of hurt.

  Hunter refused to turn into his father and grow resentful, holding on to the past. Which, if Rachel and Hunter were going to be working together with the youth, meant one thing. The two of them were just going to have to learn to be friends again.

  Whether she wanted to be or not.

  Chapter Two

  Ouch. Rachel jolted awake when her elbow met the wooden side of her nephew’s fire truck bedframe. She rubbed the spot and stared up at the ceiling.

  The house Rachel had grown up in—where her brother, his wife and their two boys now lived—only had three bedrooms upstairs and a small office downstairs. Her four-year-old nephew, Grayson, occupied one bedroom, and Ryder, who was just a year old, had a slightly smaller one. Cash and Olivia were in the master. There was no guest room, which meant that, with her added into the mix, Gray was sleeping on Ryder’s floor so she could have his room. He currently considered the situation “very cool” and liked “camping” every night, but that wouldn’t last forever. Certainly not for the month or two she’d be home. And while she didn’t mind sleeping in a twin bed the shape of a fire truck, she was willing to live somewhere else and give Cash, Olivia and the boys their own space back. Except that, with her limited amount of time in town plus the fact that she should be saving money, she wasn’t sure how to solve the space dilemma.

  “Auntie Rach, watch out, the stampede is coming!” Grayson tore into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed with her, causing air to rush from her lungs.

  “Grayson Warren Maddox, I told you not to wake her.” Olivia paused in the doorway to Rachel’s temporary room. She blew a wayward hair from her forehead, looking a little frazzled for eight o’clock in the morning.

  Rachel’s sister-in-law had aged well in the years since she’d met and married Cash. She wore khaki shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, her long mocha hair pulled into a ponytail. Even without makeup, she was striking. But more than her outside beauty, she was tender and compassionate with enough snark to make her likeable. The sister Rachel had never had. When Rachel had been in high school, Olivia had been her volleyball coach. She’d made a huge impact on Rachel and mentored her at a time when she’d been missing her parents and floundering.

  “Sorry, Rach. Gray needs to get dressed and I had planned to sneak in and grab a few things without waking you. But it seems our boy had a different idea.”

  Rachel captured Grayson and tugged him close, holding him in a tight grip that made him squirm and giggle. “It’s okay. I was up and hungry, and I love to eat little boys for breakfast.”

  He squealed and tried to get away while she smacked a kiss to his chocolate hair that still carried the sweet, fruity smell of kiddo shampoo from last night’s bath.

  “Auntie Rachel, will you take me riding?” When those hazel eyes peered up at her, Rachel didn’t stand a chance of saying no. Not that she wanted to. Part of her plan for the summer was to help Liv with the kids. If she was home waiting on a job, she could at least lend a hand. She’d already finished all of the requirements needed by the State of Texas in order to be ready for the new opportunity. Which meant now she needed to occupy herself while playing the waiting game.

  “Yep. Just let me get dressed. Can’t ride in our pajamas.”

  Grayson’s eyes lit up. “But that would be cool.”

  Within a half hour Rachel had eaten a bowl of cereal and downed a cup of coffee. Now she and Grayson were saddled up and headed out. He looked so happy, sitting in front of her in the saddle, mini cowboy hat on his head. Her heart just about gushed out all the love it held. She really, really adored her nephews. They were one plus in being home this summer.

  The two of them meandered out on the ranch, stopping to visit with Cash and a few of the ranch hands before riding to the east edge of the property.

  Rachel had forgotten about the old house that popped into view. It had been part of a ranch that had gone under decades before, and her parents had bought the land as an addition to the Circle M. She remembered a story about a skirmish between her dad and Hunter’s, as they’d both wanted the property flanked by their two spreads. Her father had won the tussle, and she and Hunter had grown up on neighboring ranches.

  Not that the McDermotts cared about this small slip of ranchland anymore. They were like land barons. They’d snatched up a number of smaller ranches over the years and now had a massive operation.

  She directed Bonnie, the sweet mare they were riding, toward the house. A grayish hue tinted the white paint, as though the siding had given up fighting against the Texas sun years before. It looked deserted. No recent tire tracks. The grass around it was unruly and long.

  Strange. Before she’d left for college, various ranch hands had rented the small house or negotiated living there as part of their pay. She didn’t know what Cash did with it now.

  Movement to the east caught her eye. A man on a horse crested a hill on the McDermott ranch. Too far away to tell for sure who it was, especially with the cowboy hat, but the build could definitely be Hunter’s.

  “Can we get down and look around?” Grayson questioned.

  “Sure!”

  Gray looked at her a little funny, and why wouldn’t he? She’d just shown a lot of excitement for poking around an empty house. But if it would help her avoid a run-in with Hunter—if that was him—she couldn’t resist.

  Rachel still couldn’t believe the two of them were in charge of building the float with the youth. That would have been useful information to have when Greg had asked Rachel to help. Since their conversation at church yesterday, she’d gone over and over the situation, and she couldn’t see an escape route. She’d committed, and she wasn’t going to back out and leave the church strapped. Besides, she wanted to work with the teens. This would be a great opportunity to show the town she’d changed—that she wasn’t the same immature girl she’d once been.

  Rachel wanted people to see her as who she’d become. Not the queen of bad decisions. A crown she’d once had the monopoly on.

  She and Hunter would just have to function around each other. If they limited their interactions to Wednesday nights and the occasional sighting at church, Rachel would be out of here and on to her new life in no time.

  Bonnie meandered to a stop on the west side of the house, and Rachel and Grayson slipped down from the saddle. Her nephew was more at home riding than most adults she knew. Definitely her brother’s child. When they’d been kids, Cash had always been out working with the horses, doing anything mechanical, helping move cattle and bumming around the ranch with Dad, even at a young age. The memory coaxed a smile. She was thankful the ache of missing her parents had lessened over the years, though it always remained with her.

  What she wouldn’t give to be able to go back for one day and tell them how much she loved them.

  Gray had already taken off around the front of the house, so Rachel secured Bonnie to the hitching post and trotted after him. The kid only had one speed—fast.

  “Can we go inside? Maybe we’ll find a snake!” He’d already climbed the front steps and now stood on the small wooden porch. He tossed his hat on the stair railing, leaving a thick head of mussed brown hair visible. “Or a black widow spider. Or a tarantula.” His excitement increased with each suggestion, while Rachel’s mind screamed, Turn around. Fast.

  She peeked through the front window. Papers, a turned-over chair, clothes and some other random items littered the floor. On the front porch, an abandoned wooden swing hung by only one chain. The other side scraped eerily against the floorboards in the slight bree
ze.

  No one lived here. Not at the moment.

  “We can try, bud, but I would assume it’s locked.” Rachel attempted to turn the knob, but it didn’t twist. Mostly to prove to Grayson that she’d tried, she shoved on the door with the palm of her hand. Amazingly, it eased open. The latch must have been broken. She pushed the door open wider, and it creaked and groaned as though arthritis crippled its hinges.

  Before going inside, she gave the porch a good hard stomp, just in case any critters did live inside. Ignoring the creepy feeling that a spider was about to descend on her head, she took a tentative step inside. It smelled...musty. But daylight streamed in through the windows, illuminating a basic, but surprisingly roomy space. A small bedroom was visible through an open door to the right, and the kitchen area held a few cabinets and an avocado-green stove. An older fridge—the kind that would probably go for megabucks as vintage on eBay—had the doors propped open. Thankfully the contents had been cleaned out before it had been left unplugged.

  “Whoa.” Grayson had followed her inside and now stood next to her, thumbs hooked through his belt loops as he studied the room. “This could be my fort. I’d pretend the bad guys were coming.” His fingers formed guns as he faced the door. “I’d have everything ready. They wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

  Just like Grayson to see the possibilities instead of the obstacles. At four years old—soon to be five—he had the sweetest optimism about life. Rachel would like to take a scoop of it with her wherever she went. She ran a hand through his soft hair. “Totally, buddy. You’d have the fastest guns, for sure.”

  Grayson walked the open stretch of floor, boots echoing against the wood. He stopped at the end of the room, head tilted in concentration. “Think Dad would let me move out here?”

  She managed to stem the laughter bubbling in her throat. “I don’t know about that, Gray.”

  Though she could understand his interest. 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 ear
ned 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 also forgotten just how stubborn she was. When they’d been younger and first started hanging out, it had taken Hunter some time to prove she could trust him. Rachel’d been the queen of building walls and defending them. Eventually he’d gotten through. And once he had, it had been worth it.

  But she’d had years to rebuild. Which meant they could be here all day. And, honestly, he just didn’t have time for that. Despite what she thought of him, he’d heard her scream when the mouse had spooked her, and he wasn’t going to just leave her stranded.

  Before he could analyze how mad she’d be, Hunter bent and scooped her over his right shoulder.

  She screeched and whacked him on the back, where the upper half of her body hung. Wiggled trying to break free. He strode through the bedroom and living room, one arm looped around her legs so she didn’t fall to the floor with all of her squirming.

  “What are you doing? Put me down, you big ogre.”

  His chest shook with quiet laughter as he exited through the front door. Rachel’s nephew Grayson played nearby, destroying an anthill with a stick. He only glanced up for a second—not the least bit concerned about the racket his aunt was making or the fact that she was slung over Hunter’s shoulder—and quickly went back to his digging and investigating.

  Hunter deposited Rachel on the front porch. “This far enough or do you need me to go farther?” He adopted a serious face and nodded toward the field. “But who knows what-all is out there. Could be a spider or, even worse, a crow—they make scary noises. I’ve heard stories about them swooping down and snatching up small children. You’re a skinny thing. Can’t be too careful.”