The Rancher's Bargain

by Joanne Rock

  She was grateful for the baby’s next cry, since it gave her the perfect excuse to retract her fingers. She darted from the room to escape the temptation of her new boss—and the fear that she’d just made a huge mistake.

  * * *

  After a brief supper shared with her new charge in the nursery, Lydia debated the wisdom of starting her new job so quickly.

  She’d jumped into the baby’s routine with both feet, comfortable with knowing where most things were located since her new employer had given her a quick tour. She knew the protocol for Teddy’s food allergies and where the EpiPens were kept. But she hadn’t clarified how or when she would go about moving her things into her suite at the Double H, thinking she’d see her new boss at dinnertime.

  But James still hadn’t come in from his chores at eight o’clock after she put Teddy into his crib for the night. Lydia knew because she’d peered down the stairs a few times, and twice had checked in with the housekeeper.

  On both occasions, Mrs. Davis had looked at her as though she might steal the house silver at any moment. And between the woman’s terse answers and general lack of hospitality, Lydia had the distinct impression that her presence was not welcomed by the older housekeeper.

  Not that she was too worried. Usually, her work spoke for itself. Maybe Mrs. Davis was simply tired from the strain of caring for a little one. Lydia was more concerned to think that James might not be accessible in the coming weeks. As Teddy’s parental figure, James had an important role in the boy’s life even if he hadn’t fully committed himself to it yet.

  Then again, maybe James’s disappearing act had nothing to do with his nephew and everything to do with the blossoming attraction between them.

  Figuring she’d never improve things around here if she stayed hidden in her room, Lydia stepped out of the sprawling nanny suite and hurried down the hall to the staircase. The natural wood banister was polished to a high sheen, and the house’s log cabin elements mingled seamlessly with more contemporary touches, like the walls painted in shades of taupe and tan. Downstairs, the stone hearth rose to a high ceiling right through the upstairs gallery walkway. A rough wood mantel and steer horns decorated the fireplace, but the leather couches and cream-colored slipper chairs were sleekly styled and inviting. Agriculture books filled the shelves in the far corner of the room, the leather spines freshly dusted.

  She peered around for any signs of Mrs. Davis but didn’t see the housekeeper. Before Lydia could debate her next move, the side door opened and James stepped inside.

  She stood far enough away that he didn’t notice her at first. He took his time hanging his Stetson and shrugging out of a weatherproof duster. Belatedly, she felt a hint of cool air that must have entered the house with him. The temperature had dropped, and she knew a storm was predicted tonight. In the shadows of the mudroom, his features looked all the more sculpted. He had high cheekbones. A strong jaw. Well-muscled shoulders that would turn any woman’s head.

  And yes, she acknowledged, she liked looking at him.

  “Do you always work so late?” she asked as a way to reveal her presence, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

  He glanced up quickly, his expression more pleased than surprised.

  “Hello, Lydia. I didn’t expect to see you so late.”

  She glanced at the antique clock on the opposite wall. “It’s not even nine.”

  “Right. And when I’ve been on duty with my nephew, I’m ready for bed before he is.” He toed off his boots and lined them up on the far side of the welcome mat.

  There was something oddly intimate about seeing him take off his shoes. Being in his home at this hour.

  Which was a silly thing to think given that she’d been a nanny before. She’d seen parents moving around their living space while she helped out with children. Maybe it felt different with James because he was single.

  And...smoking hot. Her gaze tracked him as he strode into the kitchen in sock feet. In a long-sleeved gray tee and dark jeans, he looked less like the polished Texas Cattleman’s Club president and more like a ruggedly handsome rancher. He scrubbed his hands at the kitchen sink.

  “Teddy went to bed fairly well for me.” So far, she couldn’t see any evidence of the toddler being more difficult than most children his age. “Beginner’s luck, maybe.”

  “Or maybe you’re just that good.” He grinned at her while he dried off, her thoughts scrambling at the mild flirtation in the words. “Would you like to join me for dinner? I’m starving, but I’d appreciate hearing more about your day.”

  He moved toward the stainless steel refrigerator and tugged it open.

  “No, thank you. Teddy and I ate dinner earlier.” She couldn’t risk spending too much time in her employer’s presence based on her over-the-top physical reaction to just a handshake, for crying out loud. If she was going to reach at least the two-month mark on this trial period, she really shouldn’t have late meals alone with him. “I just thought maybe now would be a good time for me to return to my house and pick up a few items to get me through the next week.”

  “I forgot you didn’t move your things in today.” He backed out of the refrigerator with a sandwich on a crusty French roll and proceeded to remove the clear plastic wrap. “There’s a storm brewing that could turn nasty if the temperature drops any more.”

  “I’ll be careful.” She stepped closer to the kitchen but didn’t enter it, remaining outside the granite-topped breakfast bar as she watched him retrieve a plate and glass. “I can be back in two hours.”

  He parted the curtain on the window over the kitchen sink, peering out into the night. “The roads are going to be dangerous if we get ice.”

  “As the oldest of eight in my family, I have to say it’s a unique experience to have someone worry about my safety for a change.” She couldn’t help a rueful smile, since she was usually the one doing the worrying.

  “What about your mom?” he asked, letting go of the sheer curtain to fill a water glass. “She didn’t ever tell you not to go out into an ice storm?”

  Even with the barrier of the counter between them, she felt the draw of his curiosity about her. She’d never experienced the pinprick of awareness all over her skin with anyone else and wondered why, of all the people Gail could have indebted herself to, it had to be a man whom Lydia found so potently sexy.

  “My mother doesn’t take much notice of potential dangers in the environment.” To put it mildly. Lydia had saved her youngest sister from drowning in a neighbor’s backyard pool while her mom led a workshop on fostering a love of Mother Earth in children. She’d been totally oblivious. “Fiona Walker truly believes that if you see hearts and flowers wherever you go, then the world must be a happy, safe place.”

  James’s eyebrows lifted as he slid his sandwich into the microwave. “Sounds like you got to see a different side of the House Rules parenting approach.”

  She wasn’t surprised he knew about the blog. Her mother’s PR machine regularly spit out stats about how many lives the parenting website actively changed for the better—which was their highly embroidered way of reporting social media reach.

  Choosing her words carefully, she replied, “Let’s just say that I hope you didn’t hire me because you thought I’d be giving Teddy lessons in the power of positive thinking.”

  “Honestly, I was just happy to read that you have CPR certification along with good references and a clean driving record.” He withdrew his meal from the microwave. “But how about you let me drive you to pick up your things and we’ll talk about your first day on the way?”

  “What about Teddy?”

  “Mrs. Davis will hear him if he cries.” He picked up a key ring from a dish on the granite countertop. “Besides, we’ll be back before he wakes.”

  She needed to speak to him about that. It didn’t make her comfortable to leave her young charge in the care of a wom
an who seemed to resent having to watch over him. But chances were good—even if she insisted on driving herself—that James would let his housekeeper tend the child if Teddy woke anyhow.

  Somehow, she had to help James feel more comfortable in a father role. And no matter that the close proximity of a car ride with her strikingly handsome boss might prove tempting, Lydia knew the sooner she discussed those issues with him, the better.

  “Okay. Let me just get the nursery monitor set up for her.” She had the baby monitor feed on her phone, but she knew the model in the nursery came with a physical receiver.

  James nodded as he pulled out his phone. “Take your time. I’ll finish up my meal while you do that.” He scrolled through his screens. “Mrs. Davis’s room is the first one on the left just downstairs. You can leave the monitor outside her door and I’ll text her the plan. She doesn’t go to sleep until after the late news anyhow.”

  Lydia walked upstairs to the nursery, hurrying in spite of James’s assurance they could take their time. Teddy Harris had been through enough these last few months. The quicker they went, the sooner Lydia would be back here, minimizing the chance that the child would wake up to Mrs. Davis.

  After retrieving the receiver, she paused near the baby’s crib, gazing at his little face in the glow of a night-light. So angelic. His rosebud mouth slightly open, his fingers clutching a soft rattle in the shape of a blue puppy dog.

  Tenderness filled her as she closed the door quietly behind her. Somehow, some way, she would get through at least the next two months. Not just for the way it would help Gail.

  She knew she could make a difference in the baby’s life. And, she hoped, in his uncle’s, too.

  * * *

  Windshield wipers working double time, James focused on the road ahead as he navigated his pickup truck down the quiet county road that led to Lydia’s place. He’d eaten enough dinner to take the edge off one hunger, but having his nephew’s new nanny beside him stirred another.

  He tried his damnedest not to think about that. But with her light vanilla fragrance teasing his nose when she leaned closer to switch the radio station away from some political news, he couldn’t resist the urge to drag in a deep breath.

  “There.” She leaned back in the passenger seat once a steel guitar sounded through the surround-sound speakers. “I hope that’s okay. I hate to shirk my civic duty, but some days I can’t cope with even one more story about politics.”

  “Rainy nights and steel guitars go hand in hand.” He glanced over at her profile in the reflected light of the dashboard. “But then, you’re talking to a man with a lot of Texas in his blood.”

  “Is that right?”

  He heard the smile in her voice, even with his eyes back on the road and the glare of another vehicle’s bright lights.

  “Yes, ma’am. My granddaddy was born on Galveston Island, but he moved here after the Korean War when an army buddy of his died and left him the care of his family farm.”

  “Your grandfather inherited the Double H?” She shifted her legs toward him, her knees not all that far from his.

  For a moment, he cursed the size of his truck. If they’d taken her car, her leg would be brushing up against him right now. But then, he recalled that he was not supposed to be imagining his legs entwined with hers. He had no business thinking about an employee that way.

  “The land wasn’t really a ranch at that time. Just some farm acreage. His friend’s widow was struggling to raise three kids and get the crops in, so Henry Harris Sr. moved into a trailer on the land and got to work.” He’d heard the story from his father often enough, since his granddad had passed away when James was still a child.

  “My house is up here on the left.” She pointed to a turn ahead. “I’m sure your grandfather would be proud of how you’re maintaining the property. It’s a showplace.”

  Her words pleased him. He’d worked tirelessly for the last ten years to modernize.

  “Thank you.” He slowed the vehicle as he guided it into the horseshoe driveway in front of a single-story residence. Concrete-block built, the white house had what appeared to be building materials neatly stacked under tarps in the front yard. “Looks like you’ve got some improvements planned yourself.”

  “Not as quickly as I would like, but yes.” She pointed toward a portico structure on the far side of the building. “If you want to park under there, we can get inside without getting too drenched.”

  Moments later, he followed her inside, the rain battering hard on the portico roof as she jiggled her key in a stubborn lock. He noticed the overhang leaked in a few places, with rivulets of water streaming through the gaps.

  Inside, she flipped on a light to reveal a home in transit. Plastic sheeting hung on one end of a functional kitchen, an attempt to keep dust at a minimum, he guessed. But the workable section of living space that he could see showed tidy counters and cabinets, a big worktable covered with flooring samples and countertop tiles.

  Beyond that, there were small touches of the woman who lived here. A bright braided rug. Heart-shaped magnets on the refrigerator that pinned a child’s crayon art in places of honor. A small wall shelf contained a collection of glass and ceramic birds.

  “I’ll just be a minute.” She headed toward an overlapping section of the plastic sheeting that divided the living space. “I need to grab some clothes.”

  “Can I carry anything for you?” He studied her in the light of a wrought iron chandelier over the kitchen table. “There’s plenty of room in the extended cab if you want to bring any furniture or personal items to make you feel more at home.”

  “I don’t need much—” She hesitated. “Actually, I have a few toys that Teddy might like if you want to come with me.”

  She held the plastic sheeting open for him and he ducked through, passing close to her. Brushing her shoulder with his accidentally. Was it his imagination, or did she suck in a breath at the contact?

  He stopped too close to her in the small space, but a temporary wall had been constructed of plywood, making the hallway narrow here.

  “Sorry about the mess,” she said, quickly stepping ahead of him. “I’ve been living in a construction zone. I hardly notice it anymore when it’s just me here.”

  His gaze roved—without his permission—to the sultry curve of her hips in her khaki slacks as she strode ahead of him. She paused to flip a light switch on one wall, and then she turned into what looked like a storage area.

  “I’m glad to help,” he told her honestly, not wanting to admit how much he liked spending time with her. How content he would be to linger with her here.

  “Do you want to pull down those two suitcases?” she asked, pivoting in her tennis shoes to face him.

  He hoped he’d lifted his gaze to eye level fast enough.

  Damn. What the hell was he thinking to ogle her?

  “Sure thing.” He skirted around a couple of box fans to the shelves that held the luggage, and pulled down the items she’d indicated.

  While he did that, she dug in a big box filled with plastic scooters, ride-on toys and trucks. He resisted the view of her tempting feminine form, concentrating on opening the first suitcase like his life depended on it.

  He steeled himself for the inevitable draw of her proximity when he brought the bag over to her. In short order, she tossed in a farm set with clear plastic bags full of toy animals, fencing and tractors. She added a few other items he didn’t recognize—baby gear of some sort.

  “You know you can buy whatever you think he needs—”

  “Babies outgrow things so quickly. It makes more sense to share.” Their eyes met over the suitcase he held.

  He studied her, forgetting what they’d been talking about as sparks singed between them. For a moment, they breathed in one another’s air. And from the protracted pause, he knew she was as distracted by the sizzling connecti
on as he was.

  If she was any other woman, he would have set aside the suitcase and pulled her into his arms. Tested her lips to see if they were as petal soft as they looked. Wrapped his arms around her curves to see if she fit against him as perfectly as he imagined she would.

  He could practically hear his own heartbeat. It rushed in time with her fast breathing in the otherwise silent room.

  What he wouldn’t give for just one taste...

  “I’d better get my clothes,” she said suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts just in time for him to see her rush out the door and disappear down the hall.

  Cursing himself up one side and down the other, James zipped the suitcase and carried it back out to the safety of the empty kitchen.

  As he waited for Lydia to finish, he ground his teeth together and reminded himself that the luggage wasn’t the only thing that needed to stay zipped.

  Four

  As the holidays neared, Lydia put all her focus on setting up happy daily routines for Teddy Harris.

  She was good at her job, after all, and she needed to have something in her life that was working in her favor when she felt like she was tempted by her boss every time she turned around. Not that either of them had acknowledged the almost-kiss that happened nearly two weeks ago on the night he’d driven her to her home.

  He seemed as wary as she was to cross that line since she worked for him. Because James had a high standard of ethics? Or was he simply unwilling to jeopardize his child care arrangement? Maybe a little of both. Either way, they’d been staying out of one another’s way, never spending much time in each other’s presence.

  Now, decorating the playroom for Christmas, Lydia hummed a carol while the toddler raced in circles, tugging a Santa sleigh pull toy behind him. She liked reading to him before he fell asleep, but some nights he was simply too wound up to sit still. He liked running, jumping and climbing stairs, although she was always careful to follow him up each step, in case he fell. But he was agile and coordinated, just very energetic.