The Lawyer's Nanny_A Single Daddy Romance

by Emerson Rose

  “He’s ready to go now, I’ll see you two later on tonight. Love you, Mom, catch ya later Dad.” I stand up to put my plate in the sink. I’m lightheaded still and I should wait to drive but I’m not leaving Charlotte hanging. The only person I can hurt driving on our little ranch roads is myself and that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

  “Beau, really, can’t you wait until I check your blood sugar?”

  “Stop babying him Angel, let him go. He wouldn’t if he didn’t feel good enough.”

  “Thanks Dad.” I look at my worried mom, “I’ll check it I promise, but I feel fine.”

  She doesn’t argue but when I’m closing the door I can tell it’s not because she is listening to reason. She’s gone to that place where her disease takes her far away from those of us who love her most. Her eyes are blank and she slumps back into her chair. Dad notices too but he continues to talk to her as if nothing is wrong.

  I fucking hate Alzheimer’s. It’s one of the cruelest diseases, stealing your loved one’s mind bit by bit, piece by piece until they can’t remember a thing about their life or those still in it.

  I hesitate at the door but dad shoots me a look that says go on. I close the door and turn my face toward the Montana sun and close my eyes.

  In the truck I try to text Charlotte again but still no response. Maybe she changed her mind and never even showed up at all. It’s going to take me a while to reach her. I literally cross my fingers and hope that she hasn’t left yet.

  7

  Let’s make a deal

  Charlotte

  He’s late, and not just five minutes late he’s like, twenty minutes late. I can’t believe I ever trusted him to show up in the first place, so stupid.

  Never trust a Hill. Those Hills are bad news, Charlotte. No good, dirty rotten, low down, good for nothing, Hills.

  Maybe I should have heeded the warnings my family has been giving me ever since I can remember. But, I had to try and now that I have I’m going to pack up my pride and take my ass to the bank to beg for a loan to help my parents.

  After standing out in the high noon heat on a tarmac melting in the sun the air conditioning blasting inside the truck is heavenly. I sit for a few minutes with my hands on the dash letting the air dry the sweat along my hairline and under my arms.

  When I’m cooler I strap on my seatbelt and whip the truck around backwards a little more vigorously than usual and take off down the dirt road. I’m pissed and disappointed, not only because this was my last ditch effort to help my parents, but also because I was convinced we could end this stupid Hill/Deardon family feud with our arrangement.

  I wonder where I got my naivety? Dad seems to have street smarts and Jack Jr. clearly knows how to keep secrets from me. Stella is far from naïve with her strong spirit and opinionated views.

  Maybe someone way back in my family was blindly naïve like me? Maybe my great, great great grandpa Deardon who lost his girlfriend to the Hill’s was the one? Maybe he didn’t see that she was playing the field? That must be it but even if it’s not I’m going with it because it lets me off the hook for being a sucker.

  Driving down the one lane road from the airstrip I’m momentarily blinded by the sun reflecting off of the windshield of a vehicle coming down the main road. When I blink away the stars I see Beau turning off the road coming right at me.

  Great, now he shows up. I can’t even blow past him in a huff of irritation because he’s late, one, because I still need his help and two, because this damn narrow road won’t allow it.

  I could play chicken with him. That actually sounds like fun. I never lose at chicken. I’m usually so hell bent on winning I’ll do whatever it takes to win, but that wouldn’t be a good idea when I’m so desperate for his help.

  We stop when neither of us can go any further and he gets out slowly and makes his way to my window. His gate isn’t the strong, assured, cocky one that I’m used to. Today his steps seem unsure and hesitant. When he reaches my truck he places his hand on the hood for what seems like support. Never letting go, he runs it along the hot metal and then the doorframe, until he arrives at my window.

  I lower the window and the heat blasts me again. I look down at my bare arm where a watch would be if I wore one.

  “Little late aren’t you?”

  “You were leaving?”

  “Yes I was leaving, Beau. I can’t stand around all day waiting; I have to figure this thing out. My parents need a place to live.”

  He doesn’t look the best. I mean he’s gorgeous don’t get me wrong but he’s a little more pale than I’ve ever seen him and covered in sweat.

  “It wasn’t intentional, I got held up at home. Do you still want to talk?”

  I purse my lips and frown wondering what held him up at home and why he looks ashen. “Yes. Do you want to go back to the hanger?”

  “No, we’re far enough out. I’ll just get in with you.”

  I watch him walk around the truck, keeping his hand on the vehicle just enough to keep his balance. Or at least that’s how it appears to me, who knows maybe he’s into touching scorching hot metal?

  When he reaches the door he opens it and slides in. No need to hitch his hip up or use the, oh shit handle, he’s so tall his hip is at seat level. The smell of hard work and leather fills the cab the second he closes the door and the air conditioning hits his damp skin. It’s a smell I’m familiar with growing up on a ranch. I’ve been gone a long time but I’m sure sweat never smelled this masculine and robust on the ranch hands who worked for my family.

  When I don’t say anything he turns to me with his eyebrows lifted and question written on his face.

  “You okay over there?”

  I shake myself free from the pheromones and blink several times. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s just a sweaty man who was twenty minutes late to… to what? To save my family from destitution that’s what.

  “I was thinking of asking you the same thing. You look like you’ve got a touch of heat stroke or something.”

  Deflection perfect, get the attention off of me before I slide across the seat and straddle him.

  “No, I’m fine, just a little tired. Somebody called and woke me up in the middle of the night last night,” he says arching one eyebrow.

  I sigh and do my best not to roll my eyes. I knew it was too late to call but I didn’t think he’d hold it against me. “Sorry, there isn’t much privacy in a four person hotel room filled with five people. I had to sneak out when they were sleeping.”

  He frowns, “You’re all in one room?”

  “Well, yes. I’m still a poor college student ya know. I could hardly pay for the plane ticket home and my parents have nothing now, which is the reason we are here. How are you going to help us when our families despise each other?”

  “I have a plan.”

  “Care to share that plan mister?”

  “First I want you to agree to something.”

  And there it is, the stipulation I’ve been worrying about. I can’t imagine what he could want from me knowing I’m broke and in college and a Deardon.

  “I will help your family if you will work as my private veterinarian when you graduate. Earl took off home after the twister. There’s not enough work for him around here with all the ranches taken out by the twister.”

  I swear my whole body relaxes at the sound of that deal. I’d imagined a million dirty immoral even kinky things that he might demand of me. He knows I’m in a terrible position, he could have asked for anything and I would have considered it.

  But this, this is perfect. My whole life all I’ve ever wanted was to be a vet on a ranch. Preferably my family’s ranch but it’s gone along with that dream and this is an opportunity of a lifetime. Whiskey Hill Ranch is one of the biggest and busiest ranches in this part of the state. It’s also beautiful and they have magnificent animals to work with.

  I never imagined working anywhere other than the Rose Deardon Ranch. Whiskey Hill wouldn’t be a bad
second choice other than the fact that any one of the Hill family might shoot me on sight for being a Deardon.

  “Earl left?”

  “Yeah, didn’t even say goodbye, just left a note that said he was moving on.”

  Earl was the local veterinarian. He had worked six ranches in the area his entire life but now with only one of them left I see his predicament. But to quit with a note after all those years was like breaking up a marriage via text.

  “That’s strange, doesn’t sound like Earl.”

  “So, you interested or should I put out an ad for a new vet?”

  “How are you going to help my family when they haven’t so much as looked across the road in Whiskey Hill’s direction for a hundred years?”

  “You have to agree to work for me first. Then I’ll tell you my plan.”

  I pull up my knee and turn to face him in my seat. “What’s wrong with your plan? Why can’t you tell me first?”

  “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with my plan at all. I just want what I want first.”

  “What if I agree to work for you and I don’t like your plan?”

  “You still have to work for me,” he winks and as irritated as I am with him there’s an undeniable tingle between my legs.

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Life’s not fair, Charlotte. I need a vet and you’re smart, I’ve known you my whole life, I trust you. And you need my help as much as I need yours,” he throws in that last part like a second thought. He trusts me. Why on earth would he trust me?

  He has one thing right life isn’t fucking fair. I can’t afford to tell him no, it’s a win, win, for both of us no matter what his plan ends up being.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  He almost looks disappointed that I didn’t put up more of a fight, a man who enjoys arguing, great, just what I need.

  “Now tell me your plan.”

  “You know that piece of land our families have been fighting over for at least fifty years?”

  “Yeah, our land that you fenced us off from?”

  He rolls his eyes, “Your family could never been prove who owns that land and you know it. I fenced it off because nobody was taking care of it. I cleaned it up and I’ve kept it up for years.”

  “Whatever, what about it?”

  “I built a small house on it a few years ago. They can live there if they want to and you can tell them it’s their land. I hired an investigator who found the original paperwork, the land is ours.”

  “It is? Wait, you built a house? Why? Who lives there?”

  “No one lives there anymore, it was for a friend.”

  I shake my head and close my eyes, “No, they know it’s not theirs, they’ll never live in it.”

  “We can have some documents drawn up that say it’s been discovered that the land is theirs and anything on it is subsequently theirs by default. Your dad ought to love that. I’ll give you the deed to those acres to keep so you know I won’t back out of our deal.”

  I scrunch my brows together. Yeah my dad will love that but what about his.

  “You’d do that for us, for them?”

  “Yes, but only if you live with me and take care of my animals full time.”

  My heart stops and restarts. “Live with you? Are you kidding me? That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “I didn’t mean with me in the main house. My house is empty you can live there. I want you close for emergencies, it’s only logical.”

  Logical. Nothing about this is logical but I’m willing to give a little as long as he isn’t expecting any funny business on the side.

  His plan sounds amazing except that it doesn’t bury the Hill/Deardon hatchet. If anything it’s throwing fuel on the fire when it comes to his family.

  “How are you going to handle your parents? It’s going to look like a win for the Deardon’s, won’t that infuriate them?”

  “Don’t worry about them, I’ll handle it.”

  Tucking my chin down I raise an eyebrow and look at him skeptically.

  “Don’t. Worry. About. It.” He pauses pointedly between every word to drive home his point and I have to admit, it’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed being bossed.

  I sigh and twist back to face forward. “Okay, I don’t know why you trust me and I feel like the scales are unbalanced but I don’t have a lot of choices here.”

  “Unbalanced? How so?”

  “You have to give up one hundred acres of land and allow your life long enemies to live in a house that you built for… whoever. Not to mention, you’ll be giving up your own house for me to live in. You’re going to have to put up with a lot of grief from your parents and you’re going to have a bunch of strangers living on your land.”

  “Their land, it will legally be their land when all is said and done. And you are not my enemy, I hardly know you. What I do know however, is that you didn’t have a thing to do with our ridiculous family feud, neither did I. Maybe it’s time someone started mending that old fence instead of ignoring it.”

  He’s thinking along the same lines that I am, healing, mending, and bringing our families together. Well, maybe not together but maybe we could calm their twitchy trigger fingers enough that they won’t want to shoot to kill when they see each other.

  Another thing I can’t help thinking about is the amount of time I’ll be spending with this drop dead gorgeous cowboy. If this all went according to his plan I could potentially be spending the rest of my life working on at Whiskey Hill Ranch, which means spending the rest of my life alongside Beau Hill.

  It’s not the worst thought I’ve ever had, and my body certainly won’t argue. Beau Hill stirs up unfamiliar urges that I’ve never felt before. When I see him I feel like I have a packet of pop rocks exploding in my stomach, kind of tickly and hot and… positively marvelous. The more time I spend in his company the more I worry about actually liking this man who I was taught to hate.

  What parents teach hate anyway? Weren’t they supposed to encourage their children to love and be kind to everyone no matter who they are or what kind of background they come from?

  “I agree, let’s mend that one-hundred year old fence.” He nods and reaches for the handle on the door but before he opens it he turns back to me.

  “You shouldn’t keep your air conditioning so cold, it’s not good for your body’s thermostat.” And with that he leaves. I look down at the buttons that control the air and frown. He may be hot, but he’s got a side of weird to go with all those rippling muscles and tanned skin. Good thing I’m totally into weird hot guys.

  8

  I fucking hate Alzheimer’s disease.

  Beau

  A wayward moth flutters against the ceiling as I lay in bed staring up in the dimly lit bedroom. It’s early to be in bed, only eight o’clock, but I’m more tired than usual tonight and I have a lot on my mind.

  I still can’t believe she agreed to live here. I mean not here in the main house but on my land, within my reach, on my payroll and within eyesight twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.

  That’s probably exaggerating a bit. It’s not like I’ll be watching her sleep in my king sized four-poster bed, between the fifteen hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Or padding around on the hard wood, in just a t-shirt and fuzzy socks, holding her first cup of coffee of the day under her nose inhaling deeply with her eyes closed.

  Damn this woman has gotten under my skin and made me uncomfortable. I literally cannot stop thinking about her for five minutes. And ninety percent of those thoughts include her being in varying degrees of undress in my house, bent over the kitchen counter or the couch or any surface that is waist high. Sometimes I have her pinned up against the pillar just inside the front door or tangled in my arms in my oversized sinker tub, but she’s always ready and willing to let me do whatever I please.

  That forbidden woman is going to be mine, one way or another. I may have to battle my father in a messy war, but I’m up for the fight. I hav
e never had feelings for a woman before. All of this is foreign to me. The overwhelming compulsion to possess her and keep her safe, the urge to press my mouth on hers every time she’s within reach, is with me constantly. The way she has moved into my mind and made herself right at home in my thoughts.

  Dealing with mom won’t be easy either. She hates the Deardon’s as much as dad, but she loses more of her memory every day. If something doesn’t change soon she won’t know a Deardon from a Hill and that’s the only good thing that could come from this horrible disease.

  The shuffling sound of mom’s slippers against the wood floors in the kitchen down the hall keeps my senses on high alert. I can tell where she is in the room when she moves between the rugs and the wood. Each rug has a different pile therefore sounding unique and the floors telltale creaks make it easy to pinpoint her location.

  Right now she’s making tea on the stove. At night she becomes more disoriented so I listen carefully to be sure she takes the proper steps, filling the tea kettle, turning on the stove, waiting for it whistle and most importantly turning off the stove.

  I don’t know where dad is, he should be out there making sure she doesn’t burn herself or leave the stove on. He knows I’m here though and he takes advantage of it at times, going out to play cards with his friends or working late calving the cows. He just won’t admit she’s getting worse and he doesn’t have to when he knows I’m here for her.

  The main house is large, but when I moved back in I chose the guest room over my old bedroom that I had as a child. The guest bedroom is purposely separated from the other bedrooms to provide privacy, albeit not enough.

  I moved out of this house when I was nineteen years old after I built my own home on our land. That was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done, and it took every spare minute of my time during high school to do it.