Loving A Lonesome Cowboy. Debbi Rawlins

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made a face.

      Sara brushed the bangs out of her eyes. “I thought that was your favorite?”

      “Not every day.”

      Sara flinched. “I know, sweetie. We’ll look for something else, too, okay?”

      They passed a newspaper stand on the way into the store and Sara made a mental note to pick up a paper even though she already knew there weren’t many jobs available that would allow her to keep Misty with her. But it didn’t look like her ad was paying off, and she would have to do something soon.

      In the corner, just past the two clerks busily ringing up sales, a man collected toys for the needy. His box overflowed with brightly wrapped presents and some dolls and trucks that weren’t wrapped.

      “Oh, Mommy.” Misty’s eyes widened, and she tugged on Sara’s hand. “Can I have that doll with the long red braid?”

      Sara smiled down at her. “Sorry, honey, but those things are for the poor and homeless.”

      Misty looked up, her big blue eyes full of innocence. “But that’s us, isn’t it, Mommy?”

      Sara blinked, her head suddenly growing so light that she thought she might pass out. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she bent down and gave Misty a hug. “Come on, baby, we have to hurry back to the motel.”

      She hoped she hadn’t already missed Ethan Slade’s call.

      HAVING TO GO to town two days in a row had Ethan in a foul mood. All because of Jenna. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on his sister. He didn’t care that he hadn’t seen her in six years, he was going to wring her neck anyway.

      He steered the truck into the motel parking lot and squinted at the numbers on the orange doors, looking for the room number Sara Conroy had given him over the phone. There was an empty parking stall in front of number six and as soon as he pulled in and turned off the engine, the door opened. A petite woman with reddish-blond hair stepped outside, and quietly closed the door behind her.

      She gave him a shy smile, then rubbed her palms down the front of her jeans while she waited for him to walk around the front of the pickup.

      “Mr. Slade?”

      He nodded. “Ethan.”

      “I’m Sara Conroy,” she said, offering him her hand.

      It trembled slightly in his grasp, and although her blue eyes met his steadily, wariness darkened them.

      “You’re awfully young.”

      She blinked and pulled back her hand. “That has nothing to do with how well I can clean. Besides, I’m not that young.”

      Ethan rubbed the side of his jaw. He supposed that was true, except he didn’t know that some pretty young gal would want to do the dirty job that he had in mind. Besides, she was little, and there was going to be some lifting involved in restoring the house.

      Still, he figured he was lucky to find someone at this late date, and that she was a stranger and not likely to pry was a big bonus.

      “This is going to be a sizable job. The house hasn’t been lived in for almost six years,” he finally said. “It’ll probably take you the two full days.”

      “No problem.”

      “Like I told you on the phone, the girls get here on Friday, which basically gives you no leeway.”

      Shrugging, she pushed back the sleeves of her pink flannel shirt. She had the tiniest wrists he’d ever seen. “Like I told you, no problem.”

      He leaned against the front of his truck. She hadn’t asked him inside, and he didn’t blame her. He was a stranger to her. Made him wonder what she’d found out about him. A cautious woman would have asked around. “I won’t be around to help.”

      “I won’t need it.”

      Ethan exhaled. “You have a car?”

      She shook her head.

      “The ranch is about thirty miles outside of town. How do you plan on getting there?”

      She smiled. “I can be ready in twenty minutes.”

      He stiffened. It wasn’t like it was out of his way, but he’d planned on asking Sam to let her in. Although he probably ought to make sure she only readied the kitchen and the rooms his nieces would need. No sense in putting the entire house back to order. But it had been a hell of a long time since he’d set foot in that house. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready. He liked living alone in the caretaker’s shack. Life was fine just the way it was.

      He lifted his Stetson off his head, pushed the too-long strands of hair off his forehead, then settled the hat back down. “All right. I was going to let the foreman take care of things, but I suppose I can let you in and make sure you know where everything is.”

      Her smile broadened. “Great.” Dusting her hands together, she turned to the door, then stopped. “Maybe you have something to do in town while I get ready? I won’t be but twenty minutes.”

      He looked at his watch. The worn leather band was on its last leg. Maybe he ought to use the time to replace it. “Twenty minutes,” he said, and rounded the truck to the door.

      By the time he’d climbed behind the wheel, Sara had already disappeared behind the ugly orange door. He couldn’t help but wonder why a pretty young girl like her was staying in a dumpy motel like this. Or why she needed a job cleaning other people’s houses.

      Maybe she was a runaway. Just like his sister had been once upon a time. Sara had to be younger than Jenna. He turned the key in the ignition, his thoughts straying to his sister.

      In some ways it seemed like only yesterday that he’d awakened at sunup to find a note from Jenna telling him she’d eloped. But she’d been seventeen then, and now she was sending her two daughters to spend Christmas with him while she honeymooned with her soon-to-be-third husband.

      Ethan sighed heavily. What the hell was he going to do with a twelve-and six-year-old for ten days? It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, or that he wasn’t happy to see his nieces, but he obviously didn’t know beans about kids.

      He’d tried his hardest to raise fourteen-year-old Jenna after their parents had died, but he’d clearly failed. She’d gone from a sweet-tempered, shy child to a headstrong hellion by the time she was sixteen. Of course he’d only been twenty himself at the time of the car accident, and totally clueless about the needs of a young teenage girl. The only thing he knew about was ranching. And Emily.

      But Emily was dead now. And Ethan didn’t give a damn anymore about the ranch they’d built together. Sam took care of everything just fine.

      There was a small jewelry and coin store right at the edge of town, so he parked the truck and went inside. He vaguely knew the owner, who was reading a comic book behind the counter, but fortunately not well enough to make small talk or to have to answer a lot of nosy questions. Other than that, no one else was around. Probably all home having supper.

      The owner showed him a modest selection

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