Loving A Lonesome Cowboy. Debbi Rawlins

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Loving A Lonesome Cowboy - Debbi Rawlins Mills & Boon American Romance

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way out to call Sara, he saw Emily’s sewing basket sitting on the oak dresser. His heart thumped as memories of them sitting by the fire sliced through him as cleanly as a knife through pudding.

      She’d loved working with her hands, and she’d loved Christmas. Around July she’d always started sewing and knitting presents. He still had every sweater she’d knitted him. They were all in boxes he never opened.

      “Ethan?”

      He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there staring, when Sara’s troubled voice drifted to him. Silently he cleared his throat as he saw her in the doorway. Her nose was still red from her coughing fit, and so were her cheeks. She looked about sixteen. “I was trying to air out the rooms.”

      She sniffed. “It’s better already. I take it this is the other room you want me to get ready?” She started to cross the threshold, but he stepped forward, causing her to stop.

      “Let’s give it a few more minutes to air out. I’ll show you where the bathrooms are.” His tone was apparently too abrupt because she looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear, and took a wobbly step backward.

      He didn’t have the words to fend off her fears, so he merely gave her a wide berth as he passed her. “I think one bathroom will be enough for the girls,” he said as he peered through the open door just down the hall.

      The walls were covered with a startling pink wallpaper, the tile floor only a couple of shades lighter. It was one of two guest bathrooms, and Emily had insisted on the colorful decor. He’d truly hated it the first day she unveiled her handiwork, but she’d said bright colors boosted her spirits. And that had been enough for Ethan.

      He thought he heard Sara chuckle, and he glanced over his shoulder. She smiled, her teeth perfectly straight and as white as new snow.

      “How old did you say your older niece is?” she asked, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

      “Twelve. Maybe thirteen.”

      “I wouldn’t count on one bathroom being enough.”

      He rubbed the side of his neck. “Why not?”

      There was that twinkle in her eyes again. Made her look real pretty. “Because girls that age notoriously take hours getting ready.”

      “Ready to do what?”

      “Anything.”

      Ethan shook his head. It was going to be a long two weeks ahead of him.

      “If you’re going to have your own bathroom, the two girls could probably work it out sharing one.” She ducked past him to get a look inside, and a subtle fragrance drifted up to him. From her hair. It smelled like roses.

      “Well, this certainly is an interesting color.” She stepped inside and swiped the wall. Her palm came up brown, and she wrinkled her nose. “Wow! How long did you say it’s been since anyone lived here?”

      “Six years.” Six years, one month and three days. “The girls will have the bathroom to themselves. I live in the caretaker’s place.”

      She turned to him with wide eyes. “You’re leaving them alone here?”

      “No. My—” He caught himself, paused, then gestured with his chin toward the east pasture. “Sam, the Double S foreman, lives in the bunkhouse nearby. Along with about half a dozen ranch hands.”

      “Are they all men?”

      He nodded slowly.

      “You can’t do that.”

      Ethan sighed. “I’ll see the girls every day.”

      She put a hand on her hip. A slim but nicely rounded hip. “That isn’t the point.”

      “I know every single one of those men. There isn’t a thing to worry about.”

      “But they’re only children, you can’t—”

      She stopped abruptly at Ethan’s warning look. He wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t dealt with the persistence of a woman in a long time, or because it was this woman in particular. But she sure was getting under his skin.

      He did feel a little bad, though, seeing the alarm narrow her eyes and the way her body tensed. Made him wonder about her husband, and why she was traveling alone, or why she needed the job. He wouldn’t ask. It’d likely invite questions about himself.

      She rubbed a hand up her arm and gave him a measuring look. “If it would help, Misty and I could stay awhile. No charge, of course. Just room and board would be fine.”

      “I appreciate your concern, ma’am,” he told her, “but I believe I have everything covered.”

      “Of course.” She gave him a tiny smile. “I guess I’ll get started.”

      She led the way back to the family room, her walk not as spry as before, and he couldn’t help wondering about her again. Not that it was any of his damn business. Or that he wanted to get involved.

      “I was thinking I should start with their bedrooms first,” she said over her shoulder. “Then the bathroom, next the kitchen and save the family room for last. If I’m not finished before they get here, they can at least settle in while I tackle in here.”

      He stood beside her at the edge of the family room and frowned. “You don’t think you’ll finish in time?”

      Her brows shot up as she surveyed the room. “I wasn’t expecting quite this much…neglect.” Quickly, she turned to him. “I’m not complaining. And I’ll get it done….”

      “You’re right.” He laid a hand on her arm in reassurance, and her gaze raised to his, her eyes too big and too blue. Immediately he withdrew his hand and swallowed. “There’s a lot to do. I’m going to get one of the men to help you.”

      She blinked, and fear flickered in her eyes. “What men?”

      “One of the ranch hands.”

      “Oh.” She rubbed her palms together, then dragged them down the front of her jeans. “Why don’t we see how far I get by tomorrow first? No need to interrupt their work schedule. The owner might not like it.”

      “He won’t mind.” She still looked tense, so he added, “We can decide tomorrow evening. But you have to promise me you won’t lift anything heavy.”

      A shy smile curved her lips. They were naturally peach-colored, and he felt a stirring where he damn well shouldn’t. “I promise,” she said.

      “Okay.” His tone was gruff, and she stiffened. “I’ll get out of your hair. You need anything, go to the bunkhouse and ask for Sam. He’s a good man.”

      She was about to say something, but her daughter sat up from her lounging position on the couch and yanked off her headphones. Sara hurried over to her. “Is the tape finished, honey?”

      The little girl nodded, her gaze glued to Ethan.

      “Do

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