Romancing the Cowboy

“Where is it located?” Jared asked.

“Not too far from Las Vegas. Everett always thought the town would grow and that the property would be valuable someday.”

“So do you want to sell?” he asked.

“If they make me a decent offer.”

Jared feared, at her age, she might not be able to negotiate a real-estate deal—not without being taken advantage of. And who was to say what a “decent offer” was? “Why don’t you let me talk to that guy the next time he calls?”

“All right.” Granny took a sip of coffee, then watched as Connie took a platter of pancakes from the oven, where they’d been kept warm, and placed them on the table. Each one was an uneven shade of brown and shaped like the ink blots on a Rorschach test. Jared wondered if the hands had chosen the ones that looked more edible and left these behind.

“Hotcakes anyone?” Connie asked.

Matt merely stared at the stack, and Jared wondered if he’d make it until lunch if he didn’t eat any of them.

“Thanks,” Granny said, snagging one that was a little too dark around the edges for Jared’s taste. “They’re looking better each time you make them, Connie. I told you perfect flapjacks just take practice.”

It seemed pretty apparent that Granny hadn’t required her new cook to provide references.

Before long, they were joined at the table by Sabrina and her nephew, whose eyes widened when he spotted Jared. “We never get to eat with the cowboys.” Then his gaze lit on Matt and his wheelchair.

Jared had to give the kid credit for biting his lip, rather than commenting.

After Granny made the introductions, Sabrina dug through the pile of hotcakes and found one shaped like an egg. It was a perfect shade of brown on one side, and nearly white on the other.

She placed it on the boy’s plate, but he seemed more interested in Matt’s chair. Curiosity grew in his eyes.

“My grandfather has a wheelchair,” the boy finally said. “But it isn’t as cool as yours.”

“Mine’s pretty cool,” Matt said.

Was Jared the only one who sensed sarcasm in his brother’s tone?

“What happened to you?” the boy asked. “My grandpa fell down and broke his hip.”

“Matt broke his legs,” Granny explained, probably assuming her middle son would shine the kid like he usually did when someone brought up the subject. Or maybe she was just trying to take the heat off him. “Thank God he won’t have to stay in the chair forever.”

Maybe not, although that was left to be seen. But either way, Matt would never compete in the rodeo again, which was his life. So Jared suspected his brother didn’t get a whole lot of comfort from that. If he did, you’d think he’d be trying harder to get better.

“Have you started physical therapy again?” Granny asked.

Wrong question, Jared could have told her. But he didn’t.

Matt tensed, then glanced at her, his expression blank. “No. Not yet.”

Footsteps sounded, and the redhead—Tori—joined them at the table, taking a seat next to the boy.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Tori asked Granny.

“Only woke up once to use the bathroom,” Granny said. “You were right about that medication.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

It was bad enough that three strangers had infiltrated Granny’s life and home, but it was even worse to have them buttinginto her personal habits.

“Hey, cool,” Joey said, as he pulled his fork out of the gooey middle of his hotcake. “They’re cream-filled.”

“Uh-oh. Sorry about that.” The blond cook snatched away the boy’s plate. “That’s not cream filling, it’s batter. I guess that one needs to be cooked a little more.”

This was crazy. Jared wondered if Sabrina, the bookkeeper, knew how to run an adding machine or if Tori, the maid, knew which end of the broom was up.

He had to talk Granny into selling the ranch and moving in with him, where he could take care of her. Too bad she was every bit as stubborn as she was good-hearted.

A knock sounded at the door. Before waiting to be invited in, the ranch foreman entered the mudroom. “Sorry to interrupt breakfast, but Earl Clancy just split his head wide-open. He’s refusing to go into town and see a doctor, but it looks pretty bad to me.”

“He needs to go anyway,” Sabrina said. “If he’s worried about the cost, worker’s compensation will take care of it.”

Tori scooted her chair away from the table. “I’ll go take a look at the wound. Maybe I can talk Earl into getting it checked.”

“Thanks, ma’am.” Lester turned toward the door and placed his hat back on his head. “I’d sure appreciate that.”

The redhead reached into a cupboard near the refrigerator and pulled out a white metal box with a red cross on the front. Jared wondered if she had first-aid training, suspecting that she might have. Still, that didn’t make her Florence Nightingale.

“You know,” he said, getting to his feet, “I think I’ll go check on the injured man myself. If he needs a doctor, I’ll drive him into town.”

And even if he didn’t, Jared wanted to get the foreman off by himself. Lester Bailey had been working for the Rocking C for almost as long as Jared could remember, and if anyone had a handle on Granny’s mental state, it was him.

“I’ll keep the hotcakes warm for you,” the cook said.

“Thanks, Connie. But don’t bother.” Jared would much rather pick up something to eat in town. As he reached the back door of the mudroom and grabbed his hat, footsteps sounded behind him.

“Wait a minute.”

He turned to see Sabrina heading after him, a plastic container in her arms. “Why don’t you take a couple of cookies with you? Think of them as a hearty bowl of oatmeal-on-the-run, only better.”

Jared, who’d always had a sweet tooth, reached inside and pulled out one of the plumpest cookies he’d ever seen. “Who made these?”

“Connie did.”

The cook?

“She’s a whiz at making sweets and desserts. So I don’t think one will be enough.” She handed him a couple more.

He took the cookies she offered, then watched as she reached into the jar and pulled out one for herself. After taking a bite, she closed her eyes, relishing each chew.

Jared had never known that eating could be so damn sexy. His mind wandered to the vision Sabrina had made last night, wearing that flowing white nightgown and with that veil of hair sluicing over her shoulders and down her back.

Now, as she murmured a “Mmm” in delight, it set off a wave of hunger inside of him. And he wasn’t talking about food.