the common ground that will allow you and Lamar to establish any kind of rapport?”
“He’ll respond to time and attention.”
Amanda shook her head. “You think his foster parents haven’t been giving him that?”
“Obviously, Lamar needs even more than what he’s been getting,” Justin countered. “Which is where I come in.”
Amanda activated the trailer’s solar panels. “Want my advice?”
“No, but I expect you’re going to give it anyway.”
Their eyes met. “Leave the life lessons to the social workers. They’ve had lots of practice and they’re good at it.”
She went inside the trailer and returned with a rolled-up awning, which he helped her set up.
“Work on getting this ranch finished and ready for the first eight boys. If Lamar can help you do that, fine, it’ll be a good deal for both of you.” With the awning finally attached, she brushed dust off her hands. “But accept the possibility that the kid might not want to be here tomorrow any more than he apparently wanted to be here today.”
“And if that happens?” he prompted, intrigued despite himself by her perspective on the situation.
Her voice dropped a companionable notch. “If he doesn’t want to help out, don’t force it, because the only way it will ever work is if this is his choice. Not someone else’s.”
Justin studied her closely. “What makes you such an expert on all this?” As compared to, say—me?
A hint of sadness haunted her eyes. “Because I lived it. For a good part of my teenage years I hated everyone and everything.”
Now, that was hard to imagine. She seemed so content and comfortable with herself. Sensing he could learn something from her, Justin asked, “What changed?”
For a moment, Amanda went very still, seeming a million miles away. “Me. I finally realized I had a choice to either continue on as I was, which was a pretty miserable existence, or approach life differently. The point is, Justin, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help himself.” She sighed. “From what I saw, it didn’t look to me like Lamar is there yet.”
He grimaced at the truth of her words. “I know he’s not.”
Another beat of silence. “Then?” she pressed.
I’m not risking another tragedy. It’s as simple and complicated as that.
Justin stepped closer, vowing, “I’m going to help Lamar whether he wants me to or not.” He paused to take her in, appreciating both her beauty and her strength. “I’d like it if you were on board with that. If you’re not,” he paused and shot her a laser-sharp look, “I’d appreciate it if you would keep your feelings to yourself.”
Chapter Two
“I’d rather work with her.” Lamar pointed at Amanda, soon after arriving the following day.
Justin motioned Lamar back to the stacks of paper he had been trying to organize. Some were for state licensing and registration, others were for federal, state and private grants. The biggest—a quarter-million-dollar endowment from the Lone Star United Foundation—was due by the end of July. In addition to that, there were more fund-raising solicitations to send, thank-you letters to write, a tight budget to manage and local building regulations to comply with.
Justin had figured the teen would show up with an attitude, but he wasn’t going to let him dictate how things were done. “Not an option.”
Lamar slouched in his chair, a scowl on his young face. “How come?”
“Because Amanda’s not in charge of you,” he reminded the boy mildly. “I am.”
The teen returned his glance to the window. “That wood she’s carrying looks heavy.”
Heavy enough to require the sleek muscles of her gorgeous shoulders and upper arms, Justin noticed appreciatively. What it did for her legs wasn’t bad, either.
Justin dragged his glance away from the statuesque beauty in the sleeveless red T-shirt, denim coverall shorts and sturdy work boots. “If Amanda needed our help, she would’ve asked for it.”
“Sure about that? I mean, isn’t this place supposed to be about turning kids into well-mannered guys? What kind of Texas gentleman lets a lady hoist all that stuff by herself—even if she is a carpenter by trade?”
Good question. And one meant to make Justin bend to Lamar’s strategy. “Nice try.”
The kid held his palms aloft. “Hey! I’m just saying...”
Justin eyed the paperwork still needing attention. “Did you get how to use the scanner? Or do I need to explain it again?”
Lamar turned back to the desk with a huff. “I’m not good at this computer stuff.”
Which was an understatement and a half, Justin soon found out. In the next thirty minutes, Lamar managed to accidentally shut down the operating system, re-enter a single document three times and delete two files Justin had initially scanned as examples. The only thing worse than his own mounting frustration was the fact that his young charge seemed equally annoyed at his own ineptitude.
“So maybe office work isn’t your thing,” Justin said finally, ready to admit that all this assignment had done so far was cost both of them precious time and patience.
Lamar looked wistfully out the window at the vast blue horizon and dazzling sunshine. “Sure you don’t want me to go out and at least offer to give Miss Amanda a hand? She still has quite a bit to unload.”
The goal was to get Lamar doing something constructive on his very first day, so Mitzy could report back to her superiors that things were going well.
Figuring it would be okay if they both assisted Amanda, Justin stood. “All right. Let’s go ask.”
Justin and Lamar walked out of the lodge. By the time they reached the pickup truck that Amanda had parked just in front of the door, she had re-emerged from the bunkhouse. She looked from one to the other. Sweat beaded her face, neck and chest. “What’s up?” she asked, blotting the moisture on her forehead with one gloved hand.
Justin turned his attention away from the pretty color in her cheeks and the radiant depths of her eyes. “We thought we’d give you a hand with the unloading,” he explained.
Amanda stiffened. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
Lamar gave the pretty carpenter a pleading look. “If you don’t let me help, he’s going to make me go back to the computer—and I’ve already messed things up in there pretty bad.”
Amanda had no problem turning Justin down.
Lamar, it seemed, was another matter entirely.
She sized up the teenager. “The bunkhouse air-conditioning
