Little Cowgirl Needs a Mum / Once Upon a Proposal. Patricia Thayer
Louisa smiled. “I’d rather have a houseful of grandkids to spoil, but my son, Sloan, is a little slow to fill my request.” Louisa smiled. “You say you’re single?”
Jenny found herself stuttering. Please don’t let anyone set me up with a date.
Beth spoke up. “Sloan is more interested in raising his free-range cattle than in women right now. Jenny’s been busy, too … with her girls’ class.”
“He’ll be interested,” Louisa assured her, “when he finds the right woman.” She looked encouragingly at Jenny.
“I won’t be staying in town past the summer. I’ll be returning to San Antonio and my teaching job.”
After a series of groans from the women, Beth started talking about her granddaughter, Kasey. And Jenny was happy to no longer be the main topic of discussion. What would everyone think if they knew Evan Rafferty had kissed the daylights out of her last night?
She smiled to herself, knowing that, as much as she’d enjoyed the kiss, she couldn’t make too much out of it. Talk about a mismatch. Evan wasn’t the man for her. A warm shiver went through her at the memory of his touch.
Maybe if she wrote it on a piece of paper a hundred times then she’d start to believe it.
That same morning, Evan began his day as usual. He walked through the vines, checking the grapes as he had every day for years. He’d always been a man who thrived on routine, on habit.
But he wasn’t in the habit of kissing women.
He closed his eyes and Jenny came to mind. In the last twelve hours he hadn’t been able to erase her image, or the feel of her against him, or the taste of her.
The truth was, kissing Jenny had been incredible. He hadn’t wanted to stop, but he’d had to. It wasn’t wrong to want a woman, he told himself, especially a woman as appealing as the dark-eyed blonde.
What bothered him was how she made him feel. He wanted casual, and she had marriage and kids written all over her. He couldn’t go there again. Besides, Jenny had befriended his daughter. That could complicate things all to hell. And he needed to put his energy into his relationship with Gracie.
No, marriage wasn’t for him. He couldn’t make his first one work, so why would he try again?
At the sound of a horn, he looked over his shoulder and saw a crew-cab truck pull up next to the barn. Alex Casali and Gracie got out along with her new friend, Cherry. His daughter waved and he started down the slope as the group came toward him.
“Hey, Gracie.” He’d missed her more than he could have imagined.
“Hi, Daddy,” she called, surprising him as she rushed into his arms.
“Did you have a good time?”
She stood back and smiled. “It was so much fun. We watched movies and played video games.”
Hadn’t she missed him at all? “Sounds like fun to me.”
“Daddy, when can I have my sleepover?”
“I’m not exactly sure.” He glanced at Alex. “We need to discuss that with Jenny.”
Gracie looked at Cherry. “Jenny’s going to be the woman in the house. Daddy says mothers won’t let their girls come with only men here.”
Alex hid a grin. “Wise idea.”
Gracie turned back to Evan. “Will you ask her?”
He wasn’t sure he was ready to face Jenny yet. “Okay.”
“Today?”
That could be an excuse to see her again. “We’ll see.”
Gracie looked at her new friend. “Come on, I want to show you my room.”
“Ten minutes, Cherry,” Alex called after the twosome running toward the house. “Then we need to leave.” He turned back to Evan. “I doubt she even heard me.” He nodded toward the vineyard. “How about showing me around?”
Evan was surprised by the request. “Sure.”
Together they walked toward the rows of vines, heavy with grapes. “It’s quiet now, but we’ll start harvesting in a few months,” Evan said. “We’ll be busy then.”
“How many acres planted?”
“Right now it’s about twelve.”
Alex studied him. “You have plans for more?”
Evan turned away. “I’ve always had plans for more. Just not in the near future.”
“You sell to Solomon Creek Winery?”
Evan nodded. “Yes, my pinot grigio grapes.” He pointed to the highest section of the hill. “They’re harvested first. Then zinfandel and muscat. They’re all my grapes, but under his label.”
“I’m impressed.”
Evan was surprised. “Why? You’ve done well in the cattle business, and it’s been a lot more profitable.”
“Success is not always measured by financial gain.” Alex smiled. “I discovered that when I met Allison and Cherry.” There was a long pause. “You’ve had a rough few years, but you’ve come through it.”
Evan didn’t want to go there. “I have a daughter to think about now.” He glanced around the vineyard. “This is for her. It’s her heritage.”
“Is she the reason you wanted to build the winery?”
“That was part of the Kerchers’ plan, then my wife’s. Now, it’s the Rafferty Vineyard. I’m more into growing the grapes. And they’re in demand as the hill-country wine business grows. These wineries here are winning awards all over the world.”
“You’re quite the spokesperson.”
“It is my livelihood.”
They stopped at the crest of the hill. “What’s your dream?”
“It’s pretty simple—to grow the best grapes and run my own label.” Evan just wasn’t sure he could pull it off by himself. Although his brother helped out, Matt was more interested in the cattle operation.
Alex studied him. “The important thing is to have a dream. That was my problem for years.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “I worried too much about accomplishing things, making money, moving on to the next step, so that I couldn’t enjoy what I had. It’s important to have someone to share it with.”
Evan had to agree, but he had a feeling Alex Casali wasn’t talking about sharing all this with Gracie, but with another female.
Jenny rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock on her nightstand—6:55 a.m. Since it was only five minutes until the alarm would go off she might as well get up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her thoughts flashed to Evan. It had been two days since she’d been foolish enough to let things go so far.
Big mistake. She never should have gone to Rory’s. Never should have let Evan kiss her. What had made her think they could be just friends?
She released a breath and walked out of her bedroom and into the main room of the apartment.
The newly remodeled attic space that had once belonged to Allison was smaller than Jenny’s place in San Antonio, but she didn’t have to share it with a roommate.
She walked over to the compact kitchen with its new cabinets and appliances, not that she needed more than a microwave. She took a diet soda from the refrigerator, popped the tab and went into the living area. Bamboo floors were covered by a sisal rug, and a grass-green love seat and two tan leather chairs faced the small flat-screen television banked on either side with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There wasn’t any wasted space here.
It