by Cindy Kirk
Oliver looked forward to meeting his brother’s fiancée but appreciated the opportunity to talk privately first.
Jensen hadn’t changed much since Oliver had last seen him. His brother’s dark hair was perhaps a trifle longer but he was still the very proper British gentleman that Oliver remembered. Though the cowboy boots were a shock, Jensen’s gray trousers were perfectly creased, and his white dress shirt startlingly white.
“This is the first I’ve heard of Diane’s death. Why didn’t you call?” Jensen was his half brother from the second marriage of Oliver’s mother. Though seven years separated them in age, Oliver had always been fond of Jensen.
When Oliver had announced his intention to come to Horseback Hollow after their sister, Amelia, gave birth, Jensen had offered to let him stay at his ranch.
“My life has been topsy-turvy since the moment I found out.” He’d discovered Diane had died at a cocktail party when a mutual friend had expressed sympathy.
“I bet.”
Oliver continued as if Jensen hadn’t spoken. “Diane’s parents didn’t notify me. They took Ollie into their home even though they knew full custody immediately reverted to me upon her death. They kept my son from me.”
Jensen flinched at the underlying anger in his brother’s carefully controlled tone. “I’m surprised they didn’t put up a fight once you found out and arrived on their doorstep to claim him.”
“There would have been no point.” Oliver waved a hand. “I’m the child’s father.”
“Given your lifestyle, taking on a child had to be difficult.”
“Once I established a schedule, it went quite well,” Oliver said in a clipped tone, irritated his brother could think him incapable of caring for one small boy. “The nanny I hired is excellent and believes as strongly as I do in the importance of a routine. And she fully understood why I needed to make this trip. Unfortunately she refuses to leave the country.”
Jensen obviously had nothing to add. He didn’t have children. Not even a wife. Not yet anyway.
Oliver glanced down, noting Barnaby had fallen asleep at his feet. He only hoped his son was sleeping as soundly as the dog. The moment he’d arrived at the ranch, Oliver had put Ollie down for a nap. After a sixteen-hour flight from London to Lubbock the day before, even the brief respite in a hotel overnight hadn’t been enough sleep for a toddler.
His son had been fussy after the long flight and had kept Oliver up most of the night. Oliver had dreaded the forty-five-minute car ride from Lubbock to Horseback Hollow, but the child had fallen asleep while Oliver was strapping him into his car seat. He’d slept during the entire trip, not waking even when Oliver brought him inside and laid him on Jensen’s bed.
Jensen’s gaze dropped to the corgi. “What’s his name?”
“Barnaby.” Oliver wasn’t sure who was more surprised at the fondness in his voice, him or his brother.
“You don’t like dogs.”
“I’ve never disliked them,” Oliver corrected. “I simply never had time for one. Diane purchased Barnaby for Ollie when she left me. He’s quite attached to the animal.”
“You’re going to keep him?”
“Are you referring to Ollie? Or Barnaby?”
“Both.” Jensen grinned. “I’ve never considered you the kid or dog type.”
“Ollie is my son. My responsibility. When Diane and I split up, I thought our child’s needs would be better served living with her. That’s the only reason I didn’t fight for custody. I’ve already explained about the dog.”
Jensen stared contemplatively at the animal that had awakened and now sat, brown eyes scanning the room, ears perked up like two radio antennae.
“Corgis are herding animals.”
Oliver nodded. “I observed some of that behavior when he first came to live with me. But that’s no longer an issue.”
“You have the dog on a schedule, too.”
“Certainly.”
“Is Barnaby a dog that goes in and out?” Jensen asked in a tone that was a little too casual.
Oliver cocked his head.
“Could he be an outside dog?”
Oliver thought for a moment, considered. “He likes being outdoors, but I don’t believe he’s suited to roughing it.”
Jensen rubbed his chin. “That presents a problem.”
“How so?”
“Amber is allergic to dogs.” His brother grimaced. “Come to think of it, I probably shouldn’t have let the animal in the house.”
Ah, now Oliver understood. “No worries. I’ll stay with Mother.”
“You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?”
“Am I?”
“Mother is also allergic.” Jensen’s expression was solemn. “Remember the puppy Father brought home? She got congested and broke out in hives.”
Bugger. He’d forgotten all about that episode. He’d been older and away at boarding school, so the fact that the dog had to be returned to the breeder hadn’t affected him.
“It appears I’ll have to rent a suite at a hotel.” Oliver gave a shrug. “Is there one you’d recommend?”
Jensen gave a hoot of laughter. “You saw the extent of our business district when you stopped at the Superette.”
Was his brother teasing him? The way he used to when he was a bit of a boy? “I assumed the more populated area of the city was elsewhere.”
“Horseback Hollow isn’t a city, it’s a town. There are no hotels, motels or even any B and Bs.” Jensen’s expression sobered. “Right now there isn’t even a hotel in Vicker’s Corners. You’ll have to go all the way to Lubbock to find one.”
Oliver pressed his lips together. There was no way he’d flown across an entire ocean and half a continent to stay an hour away. Especially not with a child. The whole purpose of this trip was to spend time with family.
“There has to be a vacant house in the area,” he told his brother. “Do you have the name of a real estate broker I could contact?”
“Now?”
“Since Ollie and I don’t have accommodations for this evening, time is of the essence.”
His brother rose and went to a desk where he pulled out a thin phone book. “I suggest starting with Shep Singleton. He’s a local rancher and I believe he has an empty house on his property. I’m not sure if it would be satisfactory or what he’ll want for rent—”
“Money won’t be an issue if the house is clean and nearby.”
“It’s in a great location.” Jensen pulled his brows together as if picturing the place in his mind. “It may even have a fenced yard.”
“Do you have Mr. Singleton’s mobile number?” Oliver pulled the phone from his jacket, his fingers poised above the keypad. He wanted to inspect this home. One way or the other, he would secure appropriate lodging for him and his son, today.
Because Oliver Fortune Hayes was used to going after—and getting—what he wanted.
Chapter Two
Shannon swore under her breath. She and Rachel had plans to see a movie in Lubbock this evening, then check out a Mexican place that had recently opened in the Depot District. Instead she’d had to call her friend and cancel.
All because her father had gotten a call from someone interested in renting the empty ranch house on the property. Apparently that someone had to see it immediately. There was no telling how long this would take. Or who the impatient person would turn out to be.
Her father only had a name...Oliver. He wasn’t certain if that was the man’s first or last name, as he’d been distracted during the call. One of his prize mares was foaling.
Shep Singleton might be focused on Sweet Betsy but Shannon was still his little girl. He ordered her to take one of the ranch hands with her for safety. It made sense, but she hated to pry them away from thei
r duties.
The odds of Mr. Oliver being a serial killer or crazed lunatic were next to nil. Besides, she’d had self-defense training and could hold her own.
When she pulled up in front of the home and saw a dusty Mercedes, a prickle of heat traveled up her spine. Surely it couldn’t be...
Even as she hopped out of her dad’s rusty pickup with the gash in the front end, the man from the Superette stepped from the vehicle. Ooh la la, he looked just as good as he had several hours ago and ready for business in his hand-tailored navy suit.
Smiling, Shannon crossed the gravel drive and extended her hand. “You must be Mr. Oliver?”
“Oliver Fortune Hayes,” he corrected, smiling slightly. “And you’re the helpful lady from the grocer’s.”
“Shannon Singleton.” She gave his hand a decisive shake. “Shep’s daughter. My dad said you wanted to check out the house.”
“Indeed.” Those amazing blue eyes settled on her, warm and friendly. “I appreciate you showing it on such short notice.”
What was left of her irritation vanished. “Happy to do it.”
He surprised her by turning back to the car. When he opened the back door and unfastened the boy from his car seat, she realized he hadn’t come alone. Once the child’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, the toddler looked around, gave an ear-splitting shriek and barreled after the corgi that had just leaped from the vehicle.
“That’s Ollie. My son,” Oliver told her, pride in his voice.
Oliver let the boy scamper a few yards before scooping him up. Ollie giggled and squirmed but settled when Oliver said something in a low tone.
“Barnaby.”
The crisp sound of his name had the corgi turning. Oliver motioned with his hand and the dog moved to his side.
He looked, Shannon thought, like a man totally in control of the situation.
Oliver gazed speculatively at the house. “Since your father knows I’m looking for immediate occupancy, I assume the home is empty.”
Shannon smiled. “You assume correctly.”
The entire tour of the furnished home took all of five minutes. If Shannon hadn’t been looking she might have missed the slight widening of Oliver’s eyes when he first stepped inside the three-bedroom, thirteen-hundred-square-foot ranch house Shannon’s grandparents had once called home.
Once she’d finished the tour, she rocked back on her boot heels, feeling oddly breathless. “What do you think?”
“I’ll take it.” Oliver put the boy down, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. “Sixty days with an option. I’ll pay in advance.”
“Just like that?” Decisiveness was one thing, but he hadn’t asked a single question. “Don’t you have any questions?”
“You’ve explained everything to my satisfaction.” He kept one eye on his son, who was hopping like a frog across the living room. “The fact is, I need to secure lodging close to my family.”
As Shannon opened her mouth, she wondered if she might be stepping over some line. But surely the man had other options. From what she’d observed of the Fortunes, they were a tight-knit family. “You’re not staying with them?”
“That was the plan. But apparently Amber—my brother’s fiancée—is highly allergic to dogs. As is my mother, which I’d very inconveniently forgotten.” He gestured with his head toward the corgi, who intently watched the hopping boy. “Ollie is very attached to Barnaby.”
“He’s a cutie. The boy, I mean. The dog is cute, too.” Shannon paused to clear the babble from her throat before continuing. “Will your wife be joining you?”
For just an instant a spark of some emotion flickered in his eyes before the shutter dropped.
“Ollie’s mother and I were divorced.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Well, Ms. Singleton?”
“Please call me Shannon.”
“Well, Shannon. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand.
When her fingers closed over his and a hot, unfamiliar riff of sensation traveled up her spine, something told Shannon that this deal might be more than she bargained for.
* * *
To Oliver’s way of thinking, money smoothed most rough patches and made life extremely manageable. Unfortunately, in the past few days he hadn’t found that to be as true as in the past. There hadn’t been anyone to carry in his bags or help him unpack once he’d closed the deal on the ranch house.
Oliver glanced around the small living room, smiling at the sight of Ollie playing with his A-B-C bricks, the dog supervising from his position under the kitchen table. The place was so small he could see the kitchen from where he stood. Unbelievably, there was only one lavatory in the entire structure.
Since it was just him and Ollie, even when they added a nanny, it would be workable. Not ideal, but they would make do, much the way he had on those school camping trips when he’d been a boy. He decided to view the next two months as an adventure.
Both Ollie and Barnaby seemed to like the small space. Even Oliver had to admit he found his temporary residence comfortable, quiet and surprisingly homey. Still, after two days of settling in, he was ready to get to work. For that to happen, he needed a nanny.
He’d made inquiries, as had various family members. So far, none of the women he’d interviewed had been acceptable. Oliver would also consider a manny, but when he’d mentioned that to the woman at the agency in Lubbock, her eyebrows had shot up. She informed him mannies were scarcer in Texas than rain in August.
Man or woman, Oliver didn’t care. He simply needed someone he could trust to tend to his son while he worked. He ran a busy brokerage firm in London. While he trusted and valued his employees, he prided himself on being personally involved with many of the firm’s larger clients.
Dealing with time zone issues was frustrating enough, but then to have Ollie call to him or start crying over his bricks tumbling down was totally unacceptable. There had to be someone suitable in the area.
His hopes of finding someone from Horseback Hollow were rapidly fading. Amber had given him a couple of names, neither of whom was willing to live in. What good would they be to him living a half hour away? With the time differences an issue, if he needed to go out or simply make a phone call, he didn’t want to wait.
The head of the placement agency guaranteed she’d find the perfect person, but kept asking him to give her more time. Well, he’d given her over two days. Since she couldn’t make it happen, he would take the reins.
He pulled out his wallet and removed the card Miss Shannon Singleton had given him to use in case of emergencies.
Oliver paused, considered. As far as he was concerned, being without a nanny for forty-eight hours qualified as an emergency.
* * *
Shannon stared at the phone in her hand for a second before dropping it into her bag.
Rachel slanted a questioning glance at her as they exited the movie theater in Vicker’s Corners. “Who was that?”
“Oliver Fortune Hayes.”
Shannon had told her friend all about playing rental agent with Mr. Fortune Hayes. Rachel had only one question—was he married?
“Mr. Hottie from the Superette.” Rachel’s smile broadened. “Tell me he called to ask you out.”
“I’m not exactly sure what he did.”
Shannon slowed her steps as the two women strolled down the sidewalk of the quaint community with its cute little shops with canopied frontage and large pots of flowers. “He said he had a proposition for me.”
A mischievous gleam sparked in Rachel’s eyes. “What kind of proposition?”
Shannon swatted her friend’s arm and laughed. “Not that kind.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Rachel gave her an admiring glance. “You’re a hottie, too. He’d be a fool not to be interested. And that man didn’
t look like anyone’s fool.”
“Thanks for that.” Still, Shannon held no such illusions. If guys thought of her at all, it was as a buddy. She was twenty-five and had only had two boyfriends. Hardly a guy-magnet. “But remember, his home is in England. I want a nice local guy. Is that too much to ask?”
To Shannon’s surprise, Rachel didn’t go for the flippant response. Instead Rachel’s dark brows pulled together in thought. Her friend was a strikingly pretty woman, tall with big blue eyes and long hair so dark it looked almost black.
Though they were good friends, so much of Rachel was still a mystery. Sometimes when she turned serious and got this faraway look in her eyes, Shannon could only wonder what she was thinking.
“I love it here, too,” Rachel admitted. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. So when you find that nice local guy, make sure he has a friend.”
“Will do. Just don’t hold your breath.”
Shannon stopped short of telling Rachel if her friend was back in Austin, she’d have men beating her door down. She still didn’t fully understand what had caused Rachel to leave Austin and move to Horseback Hollow. But in the five years that Rachel had been in town, she’d become part of the community.
“I’m not giving up hope. And you shouldn’t either. Look at Quinn,” Rachel continued. “Amelia shows up in Horseback Hollow and—boom—she and Quinn fall in love.”
Amelia Fortune Chesterfield had come to Horseback Hollow last year for a wedding and had a romantic fling with cowboy Quinn Drummond. Now they were married with a baby girl. It was their baby shower that loomed on the horizon.
“That whole thing was like a made-for-TV movie,” Shannon admitted. “But really, how often does that kind of thing happen, especially in a town the size of Horseback Hollow?”
“The fact is, oh ye of little faith, almost anything is possible. Hey, Mr. Oliver Fortune Hayes could fall in love with you, give up his home in London and the two of you could live happily ever after right here.”