Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek

He wasn’t sure if Molly Kingsley was kidding or not. “You want me to play cowboy?”

“Maybe. We won’t ask you to bust any wild horses,” Willow said. “But there are other things you can do around the ranch. And we can teach you a few things so you can get by.” She turned to her mother. “A good cover might be that he’s a friend of Dean’s.”

Molly nodded. “I do have one concern. Can you handle about three dozen rowdy kids? Because in a little over a week, we’re reopening our annual summer camp.”

“By then I’ll be out of here.”

“One would hope,” Willow said.

Jack couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I’ll do it. I mean how hard can it be?”

Jack had held back one bit of information. He actually had spent some time on a working ranch. After he’d been labeled a troubled kid, his mother was more than happy to get rid of her twelve-year-old son for a couple of months. He hated leaving his friends in town to go to a police sponsored summer camp, but in the end he’d enjoyed his time in the country. Back then, he’d considered himself such a badass he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing he liked anything.

Until Mike got a hold of him. The tough cop refused to put up with a teenager’s foul mouth and bad attitude. Damn. If Mike could see him now. “What goes around comes around,” he’d told Jack so many times.

An hour after dinner, carrying his duffel bag, Jack followed Trevor into the bunkhouse. They entered into a large main room with rough-cedar walls divided up into different areas. In the kitchen area three long tables took up the space.

Along one wall was a huge sofa and two recliners. Two men occupied chairs facing a large television tuned to a baseball game.

“Ted and Larry,” Trevor began. “This is Jack Sullivan. He just hired on and will be bunking here with you.”

Both men greeted him with a wave as Trevor continued the tour, down the hall to the first of three smaller rooms. Here there were four bunks, two already made up. Jack tossed his things on a vacant one next to the window.

“The bathroom is at the end of the hall, bed linens and towels are in the cupboard. Breakfast is at six after the morning chores are finished.”

Jack could see Adams enjoyed playing boss. “When do we get up?”

“About five. The stock gets fed first.”

Jack grinned. “Not a problem. I can handle that.”

The foreman glared at him. “Just follow the rules, Sullivan, and we’ll get along fine.”

“Don’t worry, Adams, I’ll do my part.”

Trevor pushed his hat back on his head. “We’ll see.” He turned to leave when Willow appeared in the doorway. “Willow, is there a problem?”

“No, I came to talk to Jack.”

Trevor studied her for a moment, then shrugged and left them alone.

She glanced around the room, then turned to Jack. “As you can see the accommodations are pretty basic…. Not much privacy, either.”

He’d lived in worse. “It beats sleeping in my car.” He caught a hint of a smile from her as he sat down on the single-sized mattress. “And the bunk is comfortable.”

“My mother had them all replaced just recently.” She moved farther into the room carrying a canvas tote bag. “Of course you aren’t going to get a lot of sleep. And tomorrow will be rough so I thought you might need these.” From the bag she pulled a pair of black boots. They were well-worn, but he could tell they were top-of-the-line. “What’s your size?” she asked.

“Twelve.”

“Then these should fit you.”

He wasn’t sure he should take them. Why was she suddenly being so nice?

She glanced down at his black leather athletic shoes. “We can’t pull this off if you don’t at least look the part.”

He reached for them and kicked off his shoes. He was about to slip one on when he saw the initials MK inside. “These were you father’s.”

She nodded.

He felt like a heel. “I know you don’t want me here, Willow.”

She glanced away. “I told you before we value our privacy.”

“And I have a job to do.”

“You don’t have any proof that Dean is guilty of…whatever.”

“That’s the reason I’m here. To talk to him.”

After a moment she sighed and said, “You’re wasting your time. Dean won’t come here. The ranch wasn’t his favorite place.”

Jack studied her. Before coming to California, he’d done extensive research on the Kingsley family. He knew all about the twenty-nine-year-old Willow’s well-publicized engagement and breakup, and the unauthorized private pictures her ex-fiancé sold to the tabloids. He didn’t blame her for being leery of strangers.

“I give you my word, Willow. I’ll do my best to keep the matter with Dean private…but that’s up to your brother.”

“Just remember we’re giving you this opportunity so the press won’t be involved.”

“Believe me, my client doesn’t want to publicize this situation any more than you do.”

She watched him with those intriguing blue eyes, but her firm jawline showed her determination, her refusal to back down. He knew she’d protect her family no matter what.

Who protected her?

Jack’s job was to find people’s vulnerability. Although Willow Kingsley hid hers well, he’d seen that, too. He’d caught glimpses of her softness, definitely her beauty. Yes, definitely, her beauty wasn’t lost on him. His chest tightened as his body began to stir with awareness.

She finally broke the spell and glanced down at the boots. “You better see if those fit.”

“Right.” Jack busied himself tugging on the boots, then stood to check the fit. The soft leather felt good. “Not bad,” he announced with a smile.

She nodded. “Be sure to wear a long-sleeved shirt and there are extra hats on the rack in the barn. There should be one that fits you.” She glanced around the room again. “If there’s anything else you need, Trevor should be able to get it for you.” She paused. “Good night…Jack.”

She turned to leave and he found himself trying to find a way to stop her. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

Willow paused at the room’s entrance, her full lips parted, hesitating, then she said, “I usually ride most mornings, but you already know that.”

He nodded, unable to forget how graceful she was on horseback. “Then I’ll look for you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”