his way into her life.
Gesturing toward the porch, she said, “Would you like to have a cup of coffee or a glass of lemonade? Mother and I just had something before she left.”
He glanced over his shoulder, toward a portion of the working ranch yard. Even though the nearest barn was more than a hundred yards away, the few trees scattered between didn’t block the view.
“I suppose I could take five minutes,” he said. “It doesn’t appear the men have arrived back from the west pasture yet.”
Nodding, she started toward the house, and he fell into step beside her.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she questioned as they climbed the two wide steps to the porch.
“Texas, ma’am. I used to live near San Antonio. But I decided to migrate west.”
“Oh? You didn’t like it there?”
“I must have liked it,” he answered. “Up until three weeks ago I’d always lived in Texas. But I guess I got the itch to see something new.”
By now they were on the long, concrete porch connected to a huge, cream-colored stucco house trimmed with dark wooden shutters and doors. Above their heads, a balcony served as a roof for the porch and a sunning spot for the rooms on the second floor of the structure.
Three weeks ago, when Jonas had first arrived, Quint had given him a brief tour of the house. The structure was big enough for a simple man like him to get lost in. Which was probably good, since it looked as though he was going to have to spend time in it with this woman.
“Well, I hope you like it here,” the young woman said. “Our grandfather has Quint so tied up developing land near Capitan that he hardly has time to telephone. I know my brother is very relieved to have you taking care of things now that he’s working on other projects.”
“Your brother is an easy man to please.”
She gestured for him to take a seat on one of the willow chairs grouped together at the east end of the porch. Jonas waited for her to ease onto one of the padded cushions before he seated himself. In front of her was a low table with a tray holding glasses, cups and two insulated thermoses.
Leaning forward, she asked, “Coffee or lemonade?”
“The coffee would be nice.”
He watched as she poured the hot brown liquid into a bright yellow mug. Her hands were long and slender, as were her arms and legs. Even with her very pregnant belly, Quint could see that normally she was a shapely woman. As for her facial features, she looked nothing like her brother. In fact, she didn’t resemble any woman he’d seen before. Her face was square shaped, her mouth wide. Eyes the color of a robin’s egg were set beneath a pair of winged black brows. Prominent cheekbones slanted upward toward her temples, giving her a regal, almost exotic appearance. In spite of himself, he felt his gaze drawn to her comely face.
“Cream or sugar?”
Jonas released a breath of air that had backed up in his throat. “No. Black is good.”
She handed him the mug and he murmured his thanks.
“So how are you settling in?” she asked. “Having any problems with the men?”
Jonas swallowed a sip of coffee before he answered. “No problems. I’ve had a bit of time to get to know all the hands, and they all seem to be well acquainted with their jobs. Quint tells me that most of them have worked here for years.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “We don’t have much of a turnover. We try to keep the men’s salaries and benefits comparable to others in the area, and thankfully, most of them are content to stay.”
When Jonas had first approached Alexa Cantrell, he’d not intended for the meeting to turn into a friendly visit. He was on a mission, and normally it was his style to keep things on a business track. But this was a time when he couldn’t behave in his normal fashion. If he did, it would only raise this woman’s eyebrows, and the less he did that, the better off they’d all be.
Resting his mug on his knee, he darted a glance at her. She was a young and lovely woman. Why wasn’t there a wedding band on her finger? A man at her side, eager and waiting to become a father?
Maybe there is, Jonas. Maybe Alexa Cantrell is one of those progressive women who doesn’t necessarily want a traditional family. Maybe the baby’s father is still hanging close. Still her lover.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I hear Mrs. Cantrell is going to be gone for nearly a month.”
“That’s right. She just left to catch her plane. She’s visiting my half brothers in South Texas.”
Jonas forced himself to take another sip of coffee, as though he was enjoying the break, as though every nerve in his body wasn’t wound as tight as a cornered mustang.
“So that leaves you alone in the house.”
Her brow puckered with confusion and Jonas felt like kicking himself. He was going at this all wrong. But then, he’d never been known for finesse. When there was a job to be done he jumped in with both feet. With a fight to be fought, he leaped in with two fists.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, Mr. Redman, but what are you asking?”
“Uh—seems your brother has asked me to look out for you while your mother is away. He wants me to move into the house with you.”
She didn’t try to hide her shock as she stared at him. “What? Is this some sort of joke?”
Jonas wished it were. He had too much on his mind, too much to do in a short time without having to deal with a pregnant woman. But Quint had been understanding enough to permit him to take over the position of general manager of the Chaparral. And being on this huge ranch allowed him access to information he would otherwise have to spend days digging for.
“I’m sorry. This is not anything to joke about. Your brother was concerned about your safety. I promised him I would remain in the house at night—just to alleviate his fears.”
She drew her shoulders back and at the same time rested a hand on the upper part of her belly. Jonas couldn’t help but wonder if she’d already been told the sex of the baby. And when was it due? He didn’t know much at all about expecting women, but this one didn’t look that far away from giving birth, and that left him a little more than uneasy.
“I’m sorry, too. Because my brother doesn’t run my life. I do. And I hardly need a night nurse.”
Jonas couldn’t stop a wry smile from twisting his lips. “Maybe you’d better take another look at me, Ms. Cantrell. I’m about as far away from a nurse as you can get.”
Her square jaw tightened further, and Jonas got the impression that if pushed, she could be more than stubborn.
“All right,” she said curtly. “Let me phrase it this way. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“I wouldn’t label me one of those either. I’m just a cowboy. And your brother is simply concerned.”
She
