The Texan's Happily-Ever-After. Karen Rose Smith

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Neither of them said anything as Shep carried Manuel, and Raina followed him to the playroom.

      They passed what looked like a guest bedroom, then entered a bright, sunny room with yellow walls. There were two long, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the backyard and smaller ones in a row on the other side.

      “Was this once a porch?” she asked.

      “Yes, it was. I closed it in, put a smaller porch on this entrance and fenced in the yard.”

      “Did you do it yourself?” If he did, she was curious why. He could have hired an entire crew! Now she really was curious about him.

      “A contractor did most of the work on the ranch for me. I wanted it restored rather than razed and rebuilt. But I did this. I learned to work with my hands early on. I like building things. I guess that’s why I bought the lumberyard, so I could help other people do it.”

      He took Manuel over to a dark wood chest with a changing table on top. The room had been furnished with kids in mind—a couple of royal blue beanbag chairs, a game table with stools, cupboards and shelves that held toys—everything from remote-controlled vehicles to drawing sets. This room created a pang of longing in Raina, a pang she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Clark had wanted children badly. So had she.

      “What are you thinking about?” Shep asked her.

      With that question, Raina knew he could be a perceptive man. But she didn’t share her private thoughts very easily. “I was just thinking about parents and kids. When did you know you wanted to adopt?”

      As he undressed Manuel, Shep seemed to consider her question very carefully. “I knew about foster care firsthand. I grew up in the system. It wasn’t pretty. Once I got a start in life and learned how to make money, I had a goal—to find a place I could turn into a real home for kids, kids who needed a family as much as they needed a roof over their heads.”

      Shep set Manuel’s shirt aside, but it began to slip from the table. Raina caught it. Closer to Shep now, she could almost feel the powerful vibrations emanating from his tall, hard body. She sensed he was all muscle, all cowboy, silent much of the time, only revealing himself when he chose or had to.

      “Why Sagebrush?” she asked.

      “Why not Sagebrush?” he responded with a quick grin that she realized he used to disarm anyone who maybe got too close. That grin had the power to make butterflies jump in her stomach. She hadn’t felt that sensation for so long she almost didn’t recognize it. But when she felt a burning heat crawling up her neck again, she knew exactly what it was. Attraction. She’d been fighting it ever since she’d met Shep McGraw.

      Concentrating on their conversation, she took a quick breath. “This isn’t an area of Texas most people think about when they want to move somewhere. I just wondered how you landed here.”

      Shep helped Manuel into a pajama shirt covered with horseshoes. The toddler yawned widely as Shep concentrated on the tiny buttons, his fingers fumbling with them.

      “My father came from Sagebrush. He died when I was four. Then my mother and I moved to California. So you might say I just returned to my roots.”

      Raina knew she should back away from Shep and his story, which was bound to deepen her awareness and sympathy. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone. She’d lost her husband in the most awful of ways, and the aftermath had been heart-wrenching. Moving on had been an almost insurmountable task. But she had gone on. She was past tragedy. And she wanted to keep it that way.

      Still, she was so intrigued by a cowboy who could run a ranch and a lumberyard, yet change a diaper, too. Trying to be as tactful as she could, she asked, “And you lost your mom, too?”

      “Yeah, I did.”

      When Shep didn’t say more, Raina moved a step closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

      Stilling, he peered down at her. He was so much taller than she was. The blue of his eyes darkened until she felt a tremble up her spine.

      “Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice husky and low. “Everything that happened to me back then made me who I am now.”

      Who was Shep McGraw, beyond a rancher and a dad? Did she even want to find out? Wasn’t that why she had accepted his invitation tonight?

      The moment was broken when Manuel began kicking his legs and reached his arms out to Shep. “Up, Daddy, up.”

      Shep broke eye contact and concentrated on the little boy. “Not yet. Let’s get you changed so we can put your eardrops in.”

      “Dwops?” Manuel repeated.

      “I left them on the kitchen counter,” Shep told Raina. “Would you mind getting them?”

      No, she didn’t mind. She felt as if she needed a breather from him and the obvious love he felt for his sons.

      A few minutes later Raina distracted Manuel as Shep squeezed in the drops. Both of them seemed to be going out of their way not to get too close, not to let their fingers touch, not to let their eyes meet.

      Footsteps suddenly thundered down the stairs. “Dad! Dad!” Roy and Joey called as they ran through the living room towards the playroom.

      “I’m right here,” he said with a laugh, “not out in the barn.”

      His gentle rebuke didn’t seem to faze the boys. “We want to say good night to Dr. Gibson. Eva said we could.”

      Raina drank in the sight of the two little boys, her heart lurching again. What was wrong with her tonight? Joey was dressed in pj’s decorated with racecars. Roy’s were stamped with balls and bats. “I’m glad you came down.”

      “We’re not going to bed yet,” Joey explained. “We can read in our room before we go to sleep. Dad says that quiets us down.”

      Raina couldn’t help but smile. “Sometimes I read to quiet me down before I go to sleep.”

      “We wanted to ask you somethin’,” Roy volunteered.

      Raina glanced at Shep but he just shrugged. “What did you want to ask me?”

      “Can you come back and see the horses sometime?”

      She didn’t know how to respond. What did Shep want? What did she want? Did that even matter, when these two precious children were staring up at her with their big, dark eyes? “I suppose I can.”

      “Promise?” Roy asked, possibly sensing her hesitance.

      Joey added, “If you promise, you have to do it. Dad says no one will be your friend if you can’t keep a promise.”

      Again her gaze sought Shep’s. His expression was friendly but neutral. Apparently, this was her decision. She liked the idea of him teaching his sons about promises being kept.

      “I promise,” she said solemnly.

      “If you come Saturday, we can go for a ride after we do chores,” Joey informed her, as if warming to that idea.

      “You

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