Cowboy Daddy

She’d been scared to death—Lane had seen it in her eyes. But that hadn’t stopped her. Being the middle of six kids had given her gumption. After soaring out of the swing at its highest arch, she’d climbed out of the water, soaking wet, her clothes, what little there had been of them, had clung too provocatively to her lovely curves.

She’d soon been shivering and Lane had pulled off his over-shirt for her to wear. His plain white T-shirt and the hormones raging through his body had been enough to keep him warm. He wondered what had become of that shirt, as he’d never gotten it back.

That was the first of many times DJ had warned Lane to stay away from his sisters.

Pain cut through Lane’s hand suddenly, bringing him back to the present. A barb had gotten through his thick work glove and he pulled it off to check the damage to his finger. He cursed, sick and tired of the calluses and pain of his beat-up hands. He didn’t mind the pain—he just hated the work that caused it.

His back to the ridge, his injured finger wrapped in the tail of his shirt, Lane stared at the horizon with its late-afternoon shimmer of heat.

How many times had he thought about heading straight to that horizon and never turning back?

Something bumped his shoulder, and he turned to see Midnight standing there, looking at him wide-eyed.

“I know, boy.” Lane patted the wide brow. “It’s useless to dream. You just want to get back to your oats, don’cha? I’ll hustle.” He went back to work and had the fence up before the sun was fully gone. Wyatt’d be happy now.

At least that made one of them.

Swinging up into the saddle, Lane took one last glance at the vanishing horizon before turning Midnight toward the barn.

Lights were coming on all over the ranch house. Glancing back once more, Lane watched the sun dip below the horizon, snuffing out the illusion of his future there.

* * *

AMANDA HELD LUCAS in her arms and stood at the wide picture window in the den. She watched Lane, high in Midnight’s saddle, as he crested the ridge and headed to the barn.

Closing her eyes, she fought the burn of unwanted tears. “See that? That’s your daddy.” She knew Lucas didn’t understand her, but he would.

“Don’t pay attention to him being so distant,” she whispered to Lucas. “Something’s up, but we’ll figure it all out. Daddy really does love...you.” She’d almost said “us” but she wasn’t so sure anymore. As she looked at her son, she hoped and prayed she was telling the truth.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_2eea774b-bda5-5805-a63d-ff85adb5430e)

AMANDA COULD TELL she was getting better. Today she was bored and itched for something to do. Thanks to Tara and Juanita and half a dozen helpful cowboys, she’d gotten plenty of rest.

Fortunately, the maternity leave from her job as office manager for one of Dallas’s largest Realtor offices gave her plenty of time to recuperate and be with Lucas. She missed the pace, the purpose and structure of the office, but she wasn’t ready to face the prospect of putting Lucas in day care. The very idea gave her hives.

Still, she was going stir-crazy sitting around waiting for—for what? For nothing. That was the problem.

No one would let her help in case it tired her out. Juanita didn’t need or really want her help in the kitchen. Besides, if she ever required help cooking, Tara the “cook du jour” was around, except for the three days a week when she worked at a small diner in town.

And Amanda didn’t know much about horses, except how to enjoy riding them. And cattle? They scared her half to death. She didn’t want to go near them, much less work with them.

Since Lucas was asleep after a fitful night, Amanda knew she should get more rest, but pent-up energy kept her roaming the house. Sleep wouldn’t come anyway.

She ended up in the front room where she and Lane had talked the other night. Lane’s words came back to her and she nearly left—until she saw Wyatt sitting at the massive desk, his back to her.

The huge picture window on the far wall provided a lovely view of the ranch and, while it looked as if he were enjoying that view, she knew better. He was too busy mumbling curses.

“Problems, brother dear?”

“Yes. No. I hate technology.” He hit a key on the computer’s keyboard with just a bit too much force, filling the room with a loud click.

She moved closer and peered over the piles of papers lined up on the desktop. “You still use the hunt and peck method?”

“Hey, it works fine,” he said defensively and punched out another word.

“Uh-huh.” She picked up a few sheets of paper and automatically straightened them. “I thought you were going to town today.”

“I was.” He didn’t elaborate.

Amanda might not be the closest in age to Wyatt, but she’d learned long ago to read all of her siblings. Serious frustration blanketed his face.

“And?” she prompted, perching a hip on the only clear spot on the desk.

He leaned back, and this time he at least looked up at the beautiful view stretched out in front of him. “I love running this business, but this—” He waved at the desk and piles of paperwork. “Not so much.” He sighed.

Amanda bit her lip as an idea occurred to her. Should she? This was Wyatt, her big brother. The one always in charge. She took a deep breath. “You know, I run a large office for Mark and Tim. I could easily help you around here.”

Even before she finished, he was shaking his head. “You’re here to recuperate, not work.”

She laughed. “This is nothing compared to the amount of work I do there. And I’m about ready to go crazy, Wyatt. I need something to do.”

“What about Lucas?”

“What about him? I can run—well, not run so much—but go down the hall if there’s a problem. His swing will fit right...” She turned. “There.” She pointed to the open spot by the fireplace. “It’s not like you would make me punch a time clock.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on.” She stood and walked to stand beside the big leather desk chair. “Wouldn’t you rather be out there helping the men? Communing with nature?”

“Laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think? Communing with nature?” He looked up at her with an arched brow.

“Okay, okay. I work with salesmen. What can I say?” When he remained quiet, she pushed on. “Come on. Let me help.”

“It’s tempting.” He leaned back in his chair. “You won’t like my filing system.”

“What filing system?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I can create one for you. I know the business and how you think.”

Wyatt rose to his feet, towering over her. “You actually like doing this kind of stuff?” He glared at the disastrous desk.

“I don’t hate it.” She shrugged. “And I’m good at it.”

“I dunno.” He crossed his arms, one hand rubbing his chin.

“Oh, for God’s sake, I’m offering. I won’t beg.”