Romancing the Cowboy. Judy Duarte
blame that on his unannounced arrival, it had been the tone of his voice and the implication in his words that had set her emotions on edge. He’d talked to her as though she were some kind of imposter or second-class citizen.
Standing in the kitchen, with his hands slapped onto his hips, golden-brown eyes narrowed with suspicion, square jaw lifted in challenge, he’d been a formidable opponent. And if he hadn’t struck such an intimidating pose, she might have found the blond-haired rancher handsome.
Okay. So she’d found him handsome anyway. That didn’t make him particularly appealing. Not to her. The kind of man she wanted for herself was caring and gentle, someone who pondered a situation before barking out commands or making rash judgments and snide comments.
Someone not at all like her employer’s oldest son.
Sabrina’s thoughts turned to the day she’d first arrived at the ranch. When Mrs. Clayton had given her a tour of the house, they’d stopped near the rustic stone fireplace in the spacious living room, where Sabrina had gravitated toward a hodgepodge of silver-framed photos gracing the mantel. When she had a family and a home of her own, she would display photographs, too.
One picture in particular piqued her curiosity, and she’d reached for the pewter frame of a young boy mounted on a black horse. His eyes fairly glistened with joy and a smile dimpled his cheeks.
“That’s Jared the day he went out with the men for the very first time,” the elderly woman had told Sabrina. “He was so proud. His early years had been spent in the city, so he had to learn to rope and ride first, but he was a natural. You would’ve thought he’d been born in a saddle.”
Grant Whitaker, the elderly CPA who’d passed Sabrina’s resume on to Mrs. Clayton, had mentioned something about the three boys the woman had adopted, all of whom had been down-and-out youngsters with nowhere else to go.
As Sabrina had studied the happy young boy in the photo, she’d been curious about his background. But since she’d always been one to keep her own…humble beginnings to herself, she didn’t prod for any more information than her employer wanted to share.
“Jared’s the oldest of my three sons,” Mrs. Clayton had said. “He’s grown up to be the kind of man a woman can depend upon. I suppose some would say he’s loyal to a fault.”
For a moment, Sabrina had wondered if the elderly woman had been trying her hand at matchmaking, but decided she was probably talking in a mother/son or family sense. Jared had certainly seemed to be looking out for his mother last night—if you could call a rabid dog protective.
Of course, he might have had good reason for being in a foul mood, like an abscessed tooth or a migraine headache. Still, try as she might, Sabrina couldn’t imagine that scowling, brash man to be the same smiling boy she’d seen in the picture on the mantel.
As Sabrina had returned the frame to its rightful place, Mrs. Clayton had added, “Jared’s a good boy. Of course, all my sons are.”
That hadn’t always been the case, though. From what Sabrina had heard in town, Edna “Granny” Clayton had opened her heart to people in need over the years, and no one had needed a home—or a firm hand—more than the three boys she’d adopted. Yet her generosity and kindness hadn’t stopped there.
In the past few weeks, she’d not only taken in Sabrina and Joey, but she’d given Tori McKenzie and Connie Montoya jobs and a place to live, too. So now that Jared and his brother had arrived, the house was bursting at the seams. Of course, the living situation would improve once the cabin was renovated and one of the outbuildings was converted into two small apartments for the household staff.
Sabrina didn’t know about the other two women, but she was really looking forward to the move.
As a child, she and her family had been forced to live with various relatives and she’d grown to hate feeling like a charity case. All she wanted was to have a home of her own, a place no one could ever take away from her, but she would be content with what she had now and do her best to create a stable environment for her nephew.
She plumped her pillow for the umpteenth time in the last hour or so, then rolled to the side of the bed and glanced across the room to where Joey slept. She was able to see his blanketed form without having to turn on the light, which meant morning had arrived, so she climbed from bed.
Before heading to the bathroom, she stopped at the window, drew open the white eyelet curtains and peered out at the grassy pasture where several horses grazed, then over to the big white barn. Near the double doors, some of the hired hands had begun to gather.
The Rocking C wasn’t anything like the home she’d imagined having in the city, but Joey seemed to like it here, which was all that really mattered.
She let the curtains fall back into place and made her way to the shower. She was glad her room had a private bathroom she only had to share with Joey. She turned on the spigot, waiting until the water was the right temperature, then stepped inside. When she was done, she wrapped a towel around her and blowdried her hair. Then she dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, a neatly pressed white cotton blouse and a black sweater.
Just months ago, she’d dreamed of living in the city and wearing business suits to work—a dream she would have to put on hold until Joey was older.
Still, she’d tried to dress the part of a professional on her first day at the Rocking C by wearing a skirt and blazer.
“Well, now, don’t you look nice,” Granny had said. “But dressing up all fancy isn’t necessary around here.”
Sabrina had glanced down at her outfit, then at the elderly woman who’d hired her. “I suppose this is a bit over the top for a bookkeeping position at a ranch, but I wanted to let you know I take this job seriously.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But you’ll be a lot more comfortable around here in denim and flannel.”
Sabrina hadn’t been able to go that far, so slacks and blouses had been a compromise. And even though Granny had purchased several pairs of jeans and some feminine-cut T-shirts as a surprise, Sabrina hadn’t been able to wear them. Not for work.
Now ready to face the day, she took one last peek at her nephew, then quietly let herself out of the bedroom and started down the hall. The rich aroma of freshbrewed coffee wafted through the sprawling, fivebedroom ranch house, letting her know she wasn’t the first one up and moving about. A cupboard door opened and closed in the kitchen, suggesting that Connie had started to prepare breakfast. Sabrina wondered if the new cook had any idea there would be two more joining them for the morning meal—Jared and Matthew.
She supposed it didn’t matter. Connie tried hard, and although her meals weren’t anything to shout about, she usually prepared enough to feed an army.
Sabrina wasn’t much of a breakfast eater herself, especially when she’d had a midnight snack. But last night she’d only had two cookies. If Jared hadn’t shown up, she might have gone back for more, but she hadn’t wanted to leave her room.
Before she could get three steps down the hall, she heard papers being shuffled in the dark-paneled, masculine office and stiffened. She’d become somewhat territorial about the room in which she worked. With Edna’s permission, she’d spent the better part of two days arranging the furniture and setting up a filing system that suited her.
More paper shuffled and a drawer slid open.
Was Edna looking for something she’d misplaced again?
As Sabrina approached the open doorway, she spotted Jared seated at the desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Several open files lay across the scarred oak desktop.
“Looking for something?” she asked.
The rugged rancher glanced up. For one fleeting moment, he donned the expression of a boy who’d been caught with his hand in the church offering plate, but he quickly doused it.
Straightening, he leaned back in the seat, the leather and springs