her with diamonds.”
That certainly didn’t describe Jonathan.
“I’m not interested in romantic potential,” Jonathan said. “If she’s willing to come and can do the job, bring her on.”
Allison flashed a satisfied smile and dialed a number on her cell phone. Jeff groaned.
SHERRY MCCORMICK drove slowly around the town square of Cottonwood, hardly believing her eyes. It could have been a set from a Hollywood back lot—for a period piece from the 1920s. Quaint hardly began to describe this town.
Fortunately, Sherry was a sucker for quaint. The picturesque shops and restaurants charmed her silly. Did people really live like that? Even as she tried to tell herself the idea of residing in the sticks repulsed her, she felt an insistent pull toward this place.
Cottonwood was a town a person could call home.
Sherry had never lived in a place that felt like home. Certainly the double-wide in which she’d grown up hadn’t qualified. Her parents had been a lot more interested in drinking and smoking dope than raising their only child—except to sporadically hurl criticism and occasional pieces of furniture her way. That was their idea of parenting.
She was okay with her current home, a condo in Dallas she’d bought last year. She’d taken great care in decorating it, choosing each picture and accent piece one at a time. But no matter how many homey touches she added, it still felt cold to her. She supposed no place could feel really like a home when only one person lived there.
But maybe that was her lot in life. She sighed as she turned her car away from town and followed the directions Allison had given her to the Hardison Ranch. She’d tried really hard to find a companion, a man she was compatible with, one who would love her, one who wanted to commit and eventually grow old with her. But it seemed the harder she tried, the worse things turned out. She’d found plenty of men who would love her—for one night. Maybe she just wasn’t the kind of woman a man wanted hanging around for the rest of his life.
As sobering as that thought was, Sherry knew she could live without a husband. Growing old without children, though—she wasn’t going to settle for that. Still, at thirty-one, she had a little time. And until she figured out the rest of her life, she had her nursing career, which was a real blessing. She’d been let go from her last position, an event that seemed grossly unfair to Sherry. She was a good nurse, a conscientious one, and it was only a personality conflict that had gotten her fired. But then she’d landed a plum position with the best plastic surgeon in Dallas, along with a big hike in pay, so it had all worked out.
Even this chance to come to Cottonwood and take care of an injured rancher had come at the right time, convincing her that nursing was where she needed to focus her energies. Her new job didn’t start until next month and her finances were getting a little tight. The money she would earn as a live-in caregiver would help with some of those credit card bills she was using as a stopgap measure.
The Hardison Ranch was easy to find. She just had to follow what seemed like miles of white rail fences until she reached the main gate, which featured a hand-painted sign and a metal sculpture of a bucking longhorn cow. Or was it a bull? A steer? Whatever. Sherry knew nothing about cattle, and she didn’t want to.
She turned her Firebird right and through the gate, rumbling over a cattle guard, then down a long, red dirt drive. She noticed a picturesque red barn off to her right. It looked like the model for countless amateur oil paintings.
“What a trip,” she murmured aloud.
When the ranch house came into view, Sherry was impressed. It was a huge, rambling one-story building done in a pseudo log-cabin style. Pastures surrounded it on all sides, but a few trees had been spared to give the house shade from the hot Texas sun. Someone had planted chrysanthemums in front, which were covered in orange blossoms.
The house and grounds looked well maintained, and the few cows she saw in the distance grazed contentedly. She hoped the inside was as nice, but she had her doubts since from what Allison had told her, the Hardison Ranch was a bastion of male bachelorhood. She didn’t relish the thought of devoting all her time to scrubbing floors and toilets, but that was what she would do if she had to. When she’d left the trailer park, she’d sworn she would never live anyplace dirty again, not even temporarily.
Sherry pulled her Firebird next to a pickup truck. Several other vehicles were parked in the drive, all of them trucks or SUVs. Her little red sports car looked out of place, she thought with a grin, wondering what her new employer would think of it.
She hadn’t given much thought to her boss and patient, Jonathan Hardison. When she’d asked Allison if Jonathan was as cute as his younger brother, her friend had been cagey with her answer, saying, “He’s handsome enough when he smiles, which isn’t very often.” Sherry figured that was fair warning that Jonathan wouldn’t be an easy customer.
Well, soon she’d know exactly what the situation was. She couldn’t sit here in the car all day. She applied a fresh coat of lipstick, powdered her nose, fluffed her blond hair, grabbed her overnight case from the passenger seat, and got out of the car.
“SHE’S HERE!” announced Sam, Jonathan’s eight-year-old son, who peered excitedly out the living room window.
“I wanna see!” Jon’s seven-year-old, Kristin, raced to the window to join her brother.
If Jonathan could have done the same, he would have. But he was stuck in a recliner, his leg elevated on pillows. He could move, even walk with the aid of crutches when he had to, but Jeff had ordered him to stay put unless absolutely necessary.
For once, Jonathan had listened to his brother. Now that he was off those nice painkilling drugs they’d given him at the hospital, the leg hurt—a lot. He would do whatever it took to heal the fracture as quickly as he could so he could get back to work. If that meant acting like an invalid for a few days, he’d do it.
His whole family had come to the hospital this morning to take him home, like it was some kind of party. Now they were crawling all over the house. Jeff and their father, Edward Hardison, who was also a doctor, were here to instruct Jonathan’s new nurse on his care. Wade was here ostensibly because he was running the ranch for the next couple of weeks, but Jonathan suspected Wade and his wife, Anne, were hanging around because they were curious about the new nurse.
Allison was also there to greet Sherry because she’d arranged the whole thing. Gregarious Sally, Pete’s fiancée, didn’t really have an excuse for being here, except that she and Pete were seldom apart these days. They’d all been fussing around him like old women, fixing up a guest room, doing laundry, stocking the pantry. Much as he loved his family, Jonathan wished they would all just go away and leave him in peace. He could work things out with the nursemaid himself.
Wade joined the kids at the window and let out a low whistle. “Allison, are you nuts? She doesn’t even look like a nurse. She looks like a—”
“Don’t say it.” Allison held up her hand to halt her future-brother-in-law’s tirade. “You can’t judge a book by its cover. Haven’t you ever heard that?”
Like a what? Jonathan wanted to know.
“Let’s have a look at her,” said Pete, Jonathan’s wiry grandfather, toddling over to the living room window and peeking around the edge of the curtain. “She can’t be that—holy moly, that’s some hunk of woman.”
“Pete,
