Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan: Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan

He turned abruptly and she almost ran into him. “Oh! You should say something before you do that!” she admonished with a glare, her breath pluming in a misty curl between them. “The ground is hard enough to walk without you stopping for no good reason in the middle of the path. Have you ever considered putting in a nice sidewalk to the guesthouse?”

“No. That would encourage people to stay longer than they’re welcome,” he answered, shifting the box easily although Renee knew it was heavy. So there must be some muscles hidden beneath that flannel shirt she noted with a private shrug. Big deal. She’d never been one to swoon over some hunky cowboy type. Wrangler butts don’t drive her nuts. Good thing, too, because a cursory, almost defiant sweep of his butt, revealed an ass that she couldn’t help but admit was on the perfect side. He caught her unfortunate perusal and his eyebrow lifted only so slightly as he said, “Flattered but not interested. The house is the only thing available in this deal.”

The nerve of this guy! As if she’d be interested in him. The idea bordered on ridiculous. Pulling the box from him and grunting only slightly from the effort, she said coolly, “I wasn’t inquiring. I can handle the rest, thank you. What else did you have to say when you nearly made me run into you?”

She expected him to fight her over the box but he didn’t. The jerk merely shrugged and pulled a key from his pocket, saying, “I was just going to mention that you can help yourself to the woodshed out back and I suggest you build a fire right away. It’s the only source of heat in there. Here’s the key.” And then after pushing the key into the lock since her hands were full, he walked away, not slipping even once although Renee was really hoping he would—it would serve him right—and disappeared in the direction of the barn.

Nerve, nerve, nerve! The man had it in spades. Oh, sure, he gave off that quiet, unassuming vibe but the man actually had an ego the size of…well, for lack of anything more witty or clever, Texas!

She managed to hold on to the box and open the door with a minimal amount of swearing and despite the bone-chilling cold was actually sweating from the exertion.

Dropping the box with less delicacy than she should’ve, she winced as she heard the muffled crack of something breaking and wondered which of her precious few possessions she’d just shattered. After huffing a short breath and vowing to open the box later to find out, she decided to wander the small house to see what she was looking at as far as living conditions go.

Well, it was better than her hotel room, she noted after a quick perusal of the small house. One bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchenette and a tiny living room. Not bad.

If only it weren’t wallpapered with some kind of hideous rose wallpaper that looked like it was taken straight out of the pages of a Sears, Roebuck catalog, circa 1920. She grimaced. Thank God she wasn’t planning on staying long. This wallpaper might make her lose her mind. She peered out the small front window. Nothing but more snow fluttered from the sky, threatening to bury the small house and the ranch itself if the storm didn’t let up. Flicking the living room light on, she pushed the box out of the way of traffic and readied herself for another trip to the car. She didn’t have much but at the moment, even one more trip outside wasn’t a pleasant thought. Get on with it, she chided herself, wrapping her shawl more tightly around her neck. If she didn’t want to sleep in her jeans tonight, she’d better get the rest of her stuff before the path from the driveway to the guesthouse became damn near impassable.

Trudging through the gathering snow, her toes freezing in her worn hiking boots, she couldn’t help the quick glance toward the barn as she wondered what kind of woman—if any—would turn John Murphy’s head.

Likely as not, that woman didn’t exist. She scowled at her thoughts.

Yeah, well, who cares? It’s not like she was hoping to be that woman, anyway. She just wanted her kids back. End of story.

Besides, no one in their right mind would want to live here, she thought with a surly temper as she sank to her knee in fresh powder and nearly toppled forward in a frontal snow angel dive. Pulling her foot free, she muttered with a fierce glower, “I hate snow. I really, really, really hate snow.” And I think I just might hate you, too, John Murphy.

Chapter Eight

THE STORM DIDN’T LET UP as John had thought and since there was little work he could do with the horses in the current weather, all he could do was wait it out. Normally, he’d just tinker around the house, doing odd jobs he’d put off but he couldn’t turn around without stumbling over a little girl underfoot since Alexis and Taylor had been given a snow day.

Peering toward the guesthouse, he was satisfied to see that the little chimney was pumping out smoke, which meant Renee, despite the odds he was betting to the contrary, knew how to build a fire. At least she wouldn’t freeze. Not that he was worried.

He moved to the living room and thought about reading the local paper he’d missed from the previous week but as he entered the room it was hard to avoid the long, sullen faces of three little girls who were dying from boredom.

Earlier Renee had found an old puzzle and she and Taylor had spent an hour putting it together only to discover it was missing a piece. But Taylor had just giggled and Renee’s expression of pure joy had been hard to walk by without taking notice. He could see the happiness shining from her eyes at her daughter’s carefree laughter and it jerked his foundation a little. Alexis, of course, had had nothing to do with her mother or her invitation to join them. For a split second John regretted seeing the light dimming in Renee’s eyes at her daughter’s open rejection and it had bothered him that he cared. Later, Renee had returned to her cottage and the girls had slowly slipped into terminal boredom when Gladys had taken to her bed early.

It was one thing to be locked in a house of your own with your own things to keep you company, but it was completely something else when you’re locked in a stranger’s house with nothing familiar.

He remembered what he and Evan used to do when the snow piled high and their mom had had enough of their tussling in the house. She sent them outside in the snow with the order to stay out of trouble or else.

A speculative glance toward the girls had his mind moving. If memory served, there was still a toboggan in the attic gathering dust along with the rest of his childhood mementos. He’d be willing to bet Taylor would love a ride down the hill on that thing.

A few minutes later, he entered the living room with an announcement.

“Bundle up, we’re going outside.”

“It’s snowing,” Alexis said.

“Are you going to melt if a snowflake lands on you?”

She scowled. “No. But it’s cold outside and Chloe’s still sick.”

“Fresh air never hurt anyone. Besides, her cough is getting better by the day. Discussion over. Go get dressed and help your sisters, please. We’re going outside.”

Alexis didn’t argue further but the unhappy pout told him volumes about her disposition. He didn’t let it get to him, though. He suspected her attitude had less to do with the snow and more to do with the fact he’d let her mama move into the guesthouse. He withheld a sigh. Despite some reservations, he supposed he had to find a way to get those two talking again. He glanced at the small guesthouse, and figured he might as well stop putting it off and start lending a hand. To that end, he made a decision that he hoped didn’t blow up in his face.

“I’ll be right back,” he told the girls who were in the process of being bundled into new jackets and mittens that had been part of the back-to-school shopping spree that he’d instructed Gladys to make. He had to admit, Gladys had a better eye when it came to girly stuff than he did. His idea of high fashion was a clean flannel shirt but, shoot, the horses didn’t care what he wore. “Make sure you zipper up good. The wind is blowing a bit,” he instructed.

“Maybe we should stay in the house then,” Alexis muttered but continued to help Taylor into her mittens.

Making his way to the guesthouse, he gave the door a short rap. A minute later Renee appeared wearing a pink fuzzy sweater that plunged at the neckline in an enticing V, practically plucking John’s eyeballs from his head and nestling them between her ample breasts, until she crossed her arms at the immediate chill to ask, “Is everything okay?”

Uh. Shaking off the odd spell—had she been wearing that sweater earlier? Seemed funny that he just now noticed how much it flattered her figure—he focused on her face as he answered. “We’re going sledding. Do you want to come?”

“Sledding?” She blinked at him, her mouth working silently as she considered the offer. “You mean actual sledding? Down a hill or something?”

“That’s generally how it’s done. You’ve never gone sledding before?”

“No. I didn’t grow up around the snow,” she answered, tightening her arms and scowling much like Alexis did. “It’s not a childhood requirement, you know.”

“You’re right,” he agreed amiably. “So, here’s your chance to see what you’ve been missing. Bundle up and meet us out front.”

He didn’t give her much opportunity to say more and he did that purposefully. He was having a hard time focusing when his eyeballs wanted to slide downward to enjoy the view that shouldn’t have interested him at all given their situation. But, as his brother liked to point out with a cheeky grin, he had needs, too. He shook off the immediate bells and whistles that hooted and hollered in his head at the thought of satisfying those pent-up needs with Renee Dolling and walked a little faster away from the small house.

The girls, stamping their feet in the snow and blowing little clouds in the frosty air, gaped at the toboggan he carried under his arm.

“What’s that, Mr. John?” Taylor asked, her smart gaze feasting on the long, sturdy contraption that despite its age was in excellent shape.

“It’s a toboggan and we’re going to do something that I used to do with my brother, Evan, back when we were kids and there was nothing to do but watch the snow fall. Come with me.” Bending, he scooped Chloe up, carrying the toddler while pulling the toboggan behind him, his own breath making blue-gray puffs that quickly disappeared in the frigid air. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Renee running to catch up. He kept his expression neutral though he had the strange impulse to grin.

Taylor squealed and jumped into a snowdrift, giggling as the white powder swallowed her small frame until she had to kick her feet to regain her footing. “I like snow,” she announced as Renee took her hand and pulled her out. “Do you like snow?” she inquired and John listened a little more intently for Renee’s answer.

“I like being with you girls,” Renee answered diplomatically and John chuckled softly. She was breathing a little harder from the exertion and her cheeks bloomed prettily, not that she needed any help in that department, John noted with exasperation. Renee tried making small talk with Alexis and John admired her tenacity in the face of her daughter’s dark expression. “Remember that time we went to Kirkwood and—”

“No. I don’t.”

Alexis trudged ahead, her arms swinging with the effort as she put distance between them all. John heard Renee’s unhappy sigh and slowed his own gait so they were walking side by side.

“She’s pretty headstrong,” he said, needing to say something that might put Alexis’s rejection into perspective.

“Always has been. But she used to be on my side,” Renee said. “She’s not the kind of kid who forgives or forgets easily.”

“Would you want her to be?”

“No. Not really. I’ve always felt that Alexis had a good head on her shoulders. That life wouldn’t tip her over like it did me. She’s always had the uncanny ability to see through the bullshit. I wish I’d had that talent when I was young.”

John wondered at that statement. He was slowly beginning to realize that Renee’s past may well be a chaotic one. Shrugging, he said, “She’ll come around.”

“I know. But it hurts to be on the outside.”