Her Hill Country Cowboy

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Her Hill Country Cowboy Page 1

by Myra Johnson




  Cowboy Dad

  Single father Seth Austin will do anything for his children. So when he discovers the new housekeeper his grandmother hired for their guest ranch is a former social worker, he plans to keep his family far away from Christina Hunter. Seth once almost lost custody of his beloved kids because of an overzealous social worker. Problem is his children adore Christina and her sweet service dog—and he’s starting to fall for her, too. Recuperating from an accident, Christina is determined to slowly ease back into her old life. But the more time she spends with them, the more she realizes that her future might be with the cowboy and his family.

  “I—I’m sorry,” Christina gasped, her heart thudding.

  All she wanted was to get down off this horse and bury her face in her dog’s neck.

  “Hang on, it’s all right.” In one swift movement Seth swung himself to the ground and held up his hands to Christina. “Let’s take a break. I’ll help you down.”

  Too relieved to think beyond the moment, she transferred her grip from the saddle horn to Seth’s broad shoulders. With his strong arms supporting her, she slid from the saddle and collapsed against him.

  “Easy, easy.” Seth soothed her with gentle pats as if she were a jittery colt. “Man, you’re really shaking. Never meant to scare you like that.”

  As her breathing slowed, she became all too aware of Seth’s firm chest beneath her cheek, along with the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. If she thought her legs would hold her, she ought to put some distance between them. He was her employer, after all. Besides, how many times would he come to her rescue like this before he convinced his grandmother she was unfit for the job?

  Award-winning author Myra Johnson writes emotionally gripping stories about love, life and faith. She is a two-time finalist for the ACFW Carol Award and winner of the 2005 RWA Golden Heart® Award. Married since 1972, Myra and her husband have two married daughters and seven grandchildren. Although Myra is a native Texan, she and her husband now reside in North Carolina, sharing their home with two pampered rescue dogs.

  Books by Myra Johnson

  Love Inspired

  Rancher for the Holidays

  Her Hill Country Cowboy

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  HER HILL COUNTRY

  COWBOY

  Myra Johnson

  Have I not commanded you?

  Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid;

  do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God

  will be with you wherever you go.

  —Joshua 1:9

  With gratitude for those very special service animals who assist and hearten their humans in so many ways, and with deepest admiration for the dedicated trainers who prepare these animals to serve with loyalty and unconditional love.

  Many thanks also to my dear friend and fellow author Janet Dean, whose ideas and insights helped tremendously during the early development of this story. As always, I’m grateful for my family’s love and encouragement, as well as the friendship and support of all my “sisters” in Seekerville (seekerville.blogspot.com).

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from The Bachelor’s Unexpected Family by Lisa Carter

  Chapter One

  Christina Hunter flexed her stiff fingers gripping the steering wheel and shot an anxious glance at the GPS display on her smartphone. Good, still following the blue line.

  “In five hundred feet, turn right.”

  “Thank you, Map Lady.” Flicking on her right blinker, she slowed as she approached the intersection.

  Driving through the quaint downtown area of Juniper Bluff, Texas, felt like stepping back in time, but after her near-fatal auto accident two years ago, followed by a slow and difficult recovery, she was more than ready for a change of scenery. Small shops and businesses bordered a central square with a fountain at one end and a gazebo at the other. In the middle stood a statue of a horse and rider. A local hero, maybe? If Christina’s new job worked out, she might get to stay long enough to learn something about the guy.

  But these days, everything in her life was a big if.

  After making the turn, Christina patted her sweet, unflappable golden retriever, curled up in the passenger seat. “What do you say, Gracie? Ready to try small-town living?”

  The dog thumped her tail, and those big brown eyes, so full of loyalty and affection, tugged hard at Christina’s heart.

  “I couldn’t do this without you, girl. You know that, right—?”

  Brake lights ahead jerked Christina’s attention back to her driving. A pickup swung over to the curb, and a tall man wearing a cowboy hat jumped out. Trotting to the middle of the road, he waved his arms in a frantic signal for Christina to stop. She slammed on the brakes and thrust out one hand to steady Gracie. Good thing the dog was safely secured in her harness.

  Unfortunately, the sudden stop killed the car engine.

  Heart pounding, Christina lowered her window and leaned out. “Is there a problem?”

  “Sorry,” the man yelled. He stooped to pick up something in the street—a turtle?—and carried it across to the other side.

  “Good grief. Really?” Glancing skyward, Christina shook her head. Was it a thing in small-town Texas to stop and help wildlife safely across the road?

  Then she noticed the two anxious faces peering through the rear window of the pickup. A solemn-faced little boy held fast to a smaller girl and patted her shoulder. Even at this distance, Christina could see the girl’s chin quivering as she swiped wetness from her cheeks.

  Poor kid.

  But what a great dad.

  Christina’s irritation eased. Formerly a social worker who’d championed children in trouble, she’d encountered too many fathers who didn’t deserve the title. How could she not admire a man willing to risk life and limb to protect his kids from witnessing a poor, defenseless creature crushed beneath the wheels of an automobile?

  On his way back to the pickup, the man caught Christina’s eye and tipped his hat, briefly revealing sun-kissed caramel-colored hair in need of a trim. His crooked smile, combined with the happy cheers of his kids as they hung out the driver’s-side window, more than made up for the alarm Christina had suffered as a result of her abrupt stop.

  Time to settle her nerves and get back on the road so she could meet her new employer. But when she turned the key in the ignition, the only response from under the hood was a rumbling groan. Another try, and the rumble faded to a sputtering cough.

  “Not now. Oh, please, not now!” Christina slapped the steering wheel as a fresh surge of anxiety threatened to choke her.

  Gracie whined. Rising on her haunches, the dog licked Christina’s ear and rested a paw on her thigh.

  “I know, I know.” Forcing slow, deep breaths, Christina sank her fingers deep into the soft fur behind Gracie’s ears.

 
The man in the cowboy hat appeared at her window. “Everything okay, ma’am?”

  “I—I can’t get my car started.” Christina despised the helpless-female quaver in her voice.

  “Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

  “That’s okay. I can—”

  Too late. He’d already moved around to the front of the car. Oh, well, as a newcomer in a strange town, it wasn’t as if Christina had a lot of options. A call to the auto club could mean waiting an hour or more, especially this far away from a good-sized city, and she was already a day overdue to start her new job.

  Wearily, she found the hood release and pulled the lever. Now all she could see in the space between the dashboard and the hood was the man’s strong, capable-looking hands. He fiddled with a car part here, another one there, then told her to try the ignition again.

  The car started right up. Christina released a shaky cry of relief as the man slammed down the hood. With an elbow resting on the window frame, she called a relieved “Thank you!”

  “No problem. It was kinda my fault, anyway. And thank you for stopping.” He tilted his head toward the kids watching from the pickup. “If I hadn’t rescued that critter, I’d have caught all kinds of what-for from those two.”

  “Well, we couldn’t have that.” A pang of envy caught Christina by surprise. Did his wife know how blessed she was to be married to such a caring husband and father? With a quiet sigh, she reached for the gearshift. “I should get going. No more, uh, critters in the road, are there?”

  The man looked both ways. “Coast is clear.” He hesitated. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  Christina attempted a light laugh. “What gave me away?”

  “No front license plate. Texas cars and trucks have both front and rear.”

  Right. And in Arkansas they didn’t. Two days on the road and Little Rock already felt like a lifetime ago.

  “If you need directions or anything...”

  Christina pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She’d been driving almost nonstop since leaving the motel north of Dallas that morning, and she only wanted to reach her destination, meet her new employer and start settling in. Unwilling to risk the GPS getting her lost in the middle of nowhere, she glanced up with a tentative smile. “Maybe you could tell me if I’m heading in the right direction for Serenity Hills Guest Ranch.”

  One eye narrowed. “You have a reservation?”

  “Sort of.” It wasn’t any of this stranger’s business, but her employment arrangement did include the use of a private cabin.

  Dipping his head, the man looked past Christina and frowned toward Gracie. “Then you should know the ranch has a no-pets policy.”

  “Gracie isn’t a pet. She’s a registered service dog.” Guess he hadn’t noticed the blue vest Gracie wore.

  “Be that as it may, you still can’t—”

  A car horn blared behind them, and Christina startled. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed a dusty tan SUV.

  “Hey, Seth,” the whiskered driver bellowed through his open window. “Do your jawin’ somewhere’s else, will ya?”

  “Cool your jets, LeRoy. The lady just had a little car trouble. Pull around if you’re in a hurry.”

  Car trouble she wouldn’t have had if Seth hadn’t forced her to stop so he could move a turtle out of danger. And now he was telling her they wouldn’t allow Gracie at the ranch? Obviously, he was ignorant about laws regarding service animals.

  And obviously, she’d misjudged his solicitous nature.

  As the SUV eased around them, Christina gripped the steering wheel and shot a curt glance at the man at her window. “Thanks again for getting my car started. I’m sure I can find my way from here.”

  “But the dog—”

  She didn’t give him a chance to finish. Shifting into Drive, she left the do-gooder cowboy and his pickup behind. This transition was hard enough without letting an opinionated—and clearly uninformed—stranger rattle her.

  So much for her initial admiration for a kindhearted dad who rescued defenseless animals. She could only pray she didn’t cross his path again anytime soon.

  * * *

  Seth Austin ground his teeth. Yes, the guest ranch had been short on business this summer, but the last thing he needed was a lodger who thought she could ignore the rules.

  Although he was pretty certain he would have remembered if they’d had a reservation for a Tuesday night. Most of their guests arrived on Thursday or Friday for a weekend stay, or else on Sunday if they had reservations for a full week.

  Then it hit him. His grandmother had hired a new housekeeper, who should have reported yesterday, only something had come up and she’d postponed her arrival for a day.

  “Please, please, please, Lord,” Seth mumbled as he strode to his pickup. “Don’t let that woman be her.”

  She sure didn’t look like any housekeeper they’d ever had on the place. Too pretty, for one thing—and it galled Seth to realize he’d even noticed. Shoulder-length golden-blond hair, eyes the color of fresh-brewed coffee. And just as potent, apparently, because Seth couldn’t feel more wired if he’d polished off a whole pot of his grandmother’s strong brew.

  “Daddy?” Nine-year-old Joseph scrambled out of the way as Seth climbed into the cab. “Is the turtle gonna be all right?”

  “Sure thing. He’s probably happily munching on dandelions by now.” Seth twisted around to make sure Eva, his six-year-old, was buckled into her booster seat behind him.

  Joseph crawled between the seats and buckled up in his spot next to Eva. “Who was that lady in the car, Daddy?”

  “Just somebody new in town.”

  Eva sniffled. “She had a big dog.”

  “I know, honey. But it’s gone now. Nothing to worry about.” Laying his Stetson on the passenger seat, Seth sent his little girl a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror, then belted in behind the wheel. On the worrisome chance the woman was the new housekeeper, he’d be sending her right back to town with directions to Doc Ingram’s so she could board that beast of hers at Juniper Bluff’s only veterinary clinic. Service dog or not, Seth wasn’t about to let the animal anywhere near his kids.

  He had one more stop to make on his way home. At the farm-and-ranch supply on the outskirts of town, the kids latched onto both his hands as he waited for Wally, the teenage store helper, to load four fifty-pound bags of horse feed into the pickup bed. When Wally tipped his baseball cap at Eva, she scooted farther behind Seth’s leg.

  “Shy as ever, ain’t you, sweet thing?” Wally glanced up at Seth with a regretful frown.

  Seth had long ago grown tired of fending off such remarks about his little girl, skittish as a newborn foal. Eva would get over her timidity when she was good and ready. “Thanks, Wally. Hop in the truck, kids.”

  Twenty minutes later, he backed the pickup up to the barn door. As he helped the kids to the ground, his grandfather ambled through the opening. Bryan Peterson, Seth’s mother’s dad, walked with a slight limp, thanks to his horse taking a misstep some twenty years ago and both of them landing in a gully.

  The kids darted over to greet their great-grandfather, affectionately known as Opi, a German endearment for grandpa. “Daddy helped a turtle get to the other side of the road,” Joseph announced. “Then he had to fix a lady’s car that wouldn’t start.”

  “Sounds like y’all had yourselves a little adventure in town.” Opi tousled Joseph’s mop of tawny hair. “Why don’t you take your sister to the house? I think Omi has some chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.”

  Seth’s heart clenched as he watched the indecision play across his son’s face. Since their mother’s death not quite three years ago, neither of the kids strayed far from Seth’s side. But the lure of those fresh-baked cookies finally won out. Joseph grabbed Eva’s
hand, and together they jogged across the lane to the white three-story farmhouse that served as both their home and the guest ranch offices.

  Only then did Seth notice the blue compact sedan parked in the gravel lot behind the house. He yanked off his Stetson and slapped it against his leg. “Shoulda known.”

  “What, son?” Opi hefted one of the feed sacks.

  “The car over there. Our new housekeeper?”

  “Yep. Pretty little thing.” As if Seth needed reminding. “Your grandma’s getting her paperwork in order.” Shifting the feed sack to his shoulder, Opi started for the storeroom.

  “You told her she couldn’t keep the dog here, right?”

  “It’s a service dog. Got no choice.”

  Bile rose in Seth’s throat. They most certainly did have a choice. Omi would just have to find another housekeeper.

  He stormed across the lane, but before he made it to the back door, he spied Eva shivering on the wooden swing at the far end of the porch. “Aw, baby.”

  She pulled her thumb out of her mouth long enough to whimper, “The big dog’s in there, Daddy!”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Sweeping Eva into his arms, he sank onto the swing and held her close. It was all he could do to speak calm, soothing words to his little girl while a cauldron of fury boiled in his gut.

  “Omi gave me a cookie and said to wait out here.” Eva looked up, tears pooling in eyes as brown as the chocolate smearing the tip of her nose. “Can you make the big dog go away?”

  Seth fully intended to, but he dare not make promises to his daughter until after he cleared the matter with his grandmother. Marie Peterson pretty much ruled the roost at Serenity Hills Guest Ranch, and she’d have to be the one to send this woman on her way.

  “Tell you what,” he said, shifting Eva onto the swing beside him. “I’ll walk you over to Opi in the barn, and you can give him a hand feeding the horses while I talk to Omi about the lady with the big dog.”

  The suggestion seemed to mollify Eva. She nodded and slid off the swing, then clung to Seth’s fingers as they headed over to the barn. Once Eva had transferred her death grip from Seth’s hand to Opi’s, Seth marched back to the house. He squared his shoulders and hauled in a determined breath before yanking open the screen door.

 

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