clock on the nightstand.
“It’s six o’clock,” she said with a groan and then sat up, yawning widely. “I let you stay up a whole hour past your bedtime last night so you’d sleep later this morning.”
“Didn’t work,” EJ reported with a wide grin. “I haven’t even heard the rooster yet. I beat him.”
“You sure did,” she agreed. She’d slept through the night without waking but somehow felt more exhausted than she had in ages. She struggled to sit up against the pillow, letting the sheet and quilt slip down to her waist. “But it’s too early, sweetie. I bet Mr. Nate isn’t even—”
“Good morning,” a deep voice called from the doorway. “I’m impressed that you two keep ranch hours.”
Maybe it was her fuzzy brain, but Bianca felt her mouth drop open as she took in Nate Fortune leaning against the doorjamb, sipping from an oversize mug. He looked even more handsome than he had yesterday, wearing a red-checked flannel shirt and faded jeans molded to his lean hips and muscled thighs. Bianca must have been more desperate than she’d even realized because she was jealous of a pair of pants. His hair was damp at the ends and curled over his collar like he was a couple of weeks past needing a haircut.
“I beat the rooster,” EJ repeated, grinning widely.
“Nice work,” Nate said with an answering smile.
Bianca stifled a yawn. “This is an unholy hour for people to be awake and chipper.”
“Mommy’s grumpy in the morning,” EJ announced helpfully.
She made a face. “It’s practically still the middle of the night.”
Nate chuckled, the sound reverberating through her. “At least you’re not turning green and busting out of your clothes.”
At the mention of clothes, Bianca glanced down to the thin tank top she wore for sleeping. The words You Can’t Make Everyone Happy. You’re Not Pizza. were printed across the front, and she’d taken off her bra before she went to bed last night. She looked up again and Nate’s gaze slammed into hers. She automatically crossed her arms over her chest, but at the way his brown eyes sparked, it was obvious he’d already noticed her lack of a bra. Goose bumps rose on her skin in response to the intensity of his stare. Maybe Nate’s thoughts where she was concerned weren’t so brotherly, after all.
Bianca’s heart hammered a frantic beat in her chest. She definitely didn’t need coffee to wake her up when Nate looked at her like that.
“Come on, Mommy,” EJ urged, tugging at the covers. “You should get out of bed.”
She pulled him into her lap, keeping the covers tucked around her. She’d put on a pair of short boxers and wasn’t quite ready to expose her legs for Nate’s inspection. When was the last time she’d shaved them, anyway?
Nate cleared his throat. “Hey, EJ, maybe we can let your mom catch up on sleep this morning while you help me with chores in the barn. What do you think?”
The boy squirmed out of her grasp, his bare feet hitting the carpet with a soft thud. “Can I go, Mommy?”
“Sure,” she mumbled, swallowing to wet her throat when the word came out on a croak. “You need to get dressed, brush your teeth and eat breakfast first.”
“We’ll handle that,” Nate told her as EJ ran past him, heading across the hall. “You go back to sleep. You obviously need it.”
Ouch. Bianca raised a hand to her cheek. She could feel her face flooding with color as she let out a half laugh, half sigh. “I guess it’s been rougher recently than I realized. Plus the drive from San Antonio took a lot out of me. I’m not normally this much of a mess.”
“You’re not a mess.” Nate took one step toward the bed then stopped, his fingers gripping the mug so tight his knuckles turned white. He stared at her for several long moments, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You’re beautiful, Bianca. But it’s obvious you’ve been taking on too much. If Eddie were alive, he would have never let that happen. You’re here now...with me. I only want to help.”
Her toes curled as relief and gratitude whirled through her like a tornado. She hated what her life had come to in the past few months but was so happy to have this chance at a literal do-over. She could make things right for herself and EJ because Nate was in her corner.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m going to make this up to you someday. I promise.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I owe Eddie more than you can ever know. Helping you is the least I can do.” His voice was tight with tension as he spoke, as if there were more he wanted to say. Then EJ ran back in wearing his favorite dump truck T-shirt, a pair of baggy jeans and his light-up sneakers.
“I’m ready for breakfast,” he said, tugging on Nate’s free hand. “I got dressed by myself. My sneakers have Velcro so Mommy doesn’t have to tie them.”
“Clever,” Nate murmured, smiling at her son.
“Do you always wear cowboy boots?” EJ asked, pointing to the toe of Nate’s leather boot.
“Almost always.”
EJ turned his attention to Bianca. “Mommy, can I get a pair of boots?”
She wondered how much youth-sized cowboy boots would run. “We’ll see.”
“Get some rest,” Nate told her, ruffling EJ’s hair as he turned for the door, then quickly added, “Not because you look like you need it. Because you deserve it.”
She flashed a smile. “Good save, cowboy.”
He nodded then led EJ from the room. Bianca readjusted the pillow, then laid back and stared up at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to fall asleep again, but within seconds her eyes drifted shut. Maybe just a few minutes more, she told herself. Just a few.
“Like this, Mr. Nate?”
“Exactly. Hold the nail steady with one hand and the hammer with the other. Careful of your fingers.”
Later that morning, Nate stood next to EJ at the workbench on the far side of the barn, watching as the little boy hammered together two boards to be used as a ramp for the chicken coop. It was a mundane chore Nate had been putting off for weeks, but it was the perfect job for an eager four-year-old.
Nate never would have guessed how much he’d enjoy having a kid shadow him all morning as he fed and watered the livestock and then drove out to check the perimeter fences. EJ’s enthusiastic stream of questions and excitement over every new task made the time fly by. EJ wanted to be involved in every piece of the action, reminding Nate of himself and his brothers when they were kids.
Earl and Cynthia Thompson, who’d owned the ranch, had been like grandparents to the triplets. Had his mother been as exhausted as Bianca seemed?
Probably.
He
