No Getting Over A Cowboy. Delores Fossen

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No Getting Over A Cowboy - Delores Fossen A Wrangler’s Creek Novel

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aunt had h-o-t p-a-n-t-s, and I don’t think Loretta meant they were really short shorts.”

      “No,” he had to agree. Even though Garrett had never met his great-aunt, it was unsettling to think she could have killed a man. That “unsettling” wasn’t limited to just her though. “I’m holding out that the guy died of natural causes.”

      Nicky smiled. “And here I didn’t think you were a rose-colored-glasses kind of guy.”

      Her smile quickly faded. Probably because she remembered there wasn’t much to be happy about. But while it lasted, he got a glimpse of the cute flute player she’d once been. In those days, she’d been a looker. Still was. And Garrett hated to notice that the years had settled nicely on her.

      It was definitely time for him to get the heck away from her.

      He stepped around her to do just that, but Nicky blocked his path again. “Please don’t fight the lease,” she repeated. “I sold my house to pay for the rent and expenses on this place.”

      “You sold your house?” he questioned.

      She nodded. “It really wasn’t a home where I wanted to stay. I’d planned on selling it anyway, but I need to give this a try first. I made a promise to these women that they’d have a retreat here on the ranch. I just hadn’t counted on the retreat coming with so many...obstacles.”

      She looked him straight in the eye when she spoke that last word. Yes, he was an obstacle to her, but he wasn’t the only one.

      “You should know that my mom is playing matchmaker,” he informed her. “That’s the real reason she agreed to lease the place to you.”

      Nicky didn’t hesitate in nodding. “I know. That’s also why she hired me to do some legal work for her.”

      Garrett frowned. Again, this was news to him. And confusing since they already had a family lawyer. “What kind of legal work?

      “She’s redoing her will. Not a standard will, either. It’s complete with elaborate funeral details and her obituary. She says it’ll take weeks, maybe even months to finalize.”

      Yeah, definitely matchmaking. He could add another chat with his mom to his to-do list. He had to nip this in the bud before it bit him in the ass. He didn’t want his mother throwing him together with Nicky—and Kaylee.

      Nicky lifted the suitcase onto the bottom step, and Garrett didn’t miss the slight grunting sound she made. The grunt got louder when she hoisted it to the next step. With eight more steps to go, she was going to give herself a hernia before she made it to the back door.

      Of course, he helped by carrying it up all the steps and onto the porch. Thankfully, the suitcase had wheels so she shouldn’t have any trouble getting it inside. After that, though, she was on her own.

      “You’re leaving?” she asked, tipping her head at the clothes he had draped over his arm.

      “Moving to the guesthouse. I figure the house will get pretty crowded what with Mom, our housekeeper, a toddler and six widows.”

      Nicky got a strange look. A cross between “deer in the headlights” and “oh, crap.”

      “About that...” she said.

      But that was all she managed before he heard sounds he darn sure didn’t want to hear. Car engines. And they were all converging on the house like some kind of funeral procession. Garrett watched as they drove in one by one, and they just seemed to keep on coming. Trucks, cars and SUVs. Someone even drove up on a motorcycle.

      “About that,” Nicky repeated. She opened the back door, pushed in her suitcase. “There are more than six of us.” And she ducked inside.

      For a few seconds Garrett was stunned into silence. “How many more?”

      “Twelve. Maybe thirteen. Fourteen, tops.” Nicky walked away, repeating the biggest lie of all. “You’ll never even notice we’re here.”

       CHAPTER FIVE

      IT WAS LIKE a metaphorical intestinal disorder. The widows just kept coming.

      When Nicky had first thought of this idea, she’d envisioned a The World According to Garp type of haven for women like her who needed mending. Peace, quiet, space. She had none of those things. And even in a house as big as the Grangers’, it was hard to find a place where she could go and silently scream.

      Like now, for instance.

      “Two bathroom toilets are clogged,” Loretta reported, reading from a list like the town crier. The woman had a canvas bag filled with heaven knew what looped over her wrist and a small box tucked beneath her arm. “And the Ellery sisters and Lizzie bought the wrong kind of groceries. Did you know they were all vegan when you sent them to the store?”

      No idea, but Nicky did have an idea that someone, probably her, would be making another grocery run first thing in the morning. Not that she had time. Apparently, she had toilets to unclog, room assignments to finish not just for here but for the Widows’ House once they had the all-clear to return. She also no doubt needed to smooth things over with the housekeeper, Alice, because someone had almost certainly managed to piss her off by now.

      “Lizzie’s little boy, Liam, was running through the house, playing ninja, and he broke some stuff,” Loretta continued.

      That didn’t surprise Nicky. She’d only caught glimpses of the four-year-old, but Liam always seemed to be running. Lizzie needed to try to get him under control or there were going to be even more problems. “Keep a list of the broken items, and I’ll replace them,” Nicky said.

      The only bright spot in this day was that Kaylee was napping and hadn’t wandered off to pester Garrett. But even that silver lining was tarnished. Since it was 6:00 p.m., it was too late for a nap and too early for her normal bedtime, which meant she’d be up half the night. That meant no sleep for Nicky at a time when she desperately needed it.

      No one would certainly accuse Nicky of wearing rose-colored glasses right now.

      It didn’t help that she was in Garrett’s office. Even though he wasn’t there, she was still surrounded by his things and could almost feel those things scowling at her. Kaylee hadn’t seemed to mind, and that’s why she’d fallen asleep on the small sofa beneath the window.

      “Ruby Billings,” Loretta went on. “Suicide,” she added in a whisper to indicate that it was what had made Ruby a widow. “She’s already complaining about her roommate.”

      Nicky checked her list. There were five available bedrooms and a family room with a pullout sofa, which meant people had to triple up in some cases. In Ruby’s case, she was sharing with D. M. Arnison—surgical complications—who’d arrived on a Harley. Nicky didn’t know D.M. that well, but the woman did have Tourette’s which caused her to let curse words fly without warning. That might offend some of the other widows, but someone had to room with her. And it wasn’t as if the woman could help what came out of her mouth.

      “Ruby wants you to check with Mrs. Granger to see if we can use her kids’ rooms,” Loretta added. “Since they’re not using them and

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