Raising The Rancher's Family

Leah sipped from her cup. “I’m sorry, it’s just that while I was in high school, I used to spend a lot of time here taking pictures.”

He tried not to look at her legs, but it was impossible not to, even for a saint and he wasn’t anywhere close to being a saint. Her smooth, shapely calves and trim thighs made his mouth water as the edge of his plaid shirt cut off any more view. He took a gulp of the hot coffee, nearly scalding his throat.

He went to the refrigerator and pulled open the door to the cool air. “How about some lunch?”

She came up beside him, too close and smelling of his soap. “Only if you’ll allow me to fix it.”

Holt stepped back. “Sure. There are cold cuts in the meat bin. I’ll get the bread.”

She touched his arm to stop him. “I can do it. Please, Holt, go and sit down.”

He nodded, went to the large oval table, pulled out a chair and sat. He couldn’t help but watch as she moved efficiently around the kitchen. She laid out the bread on the white-tiled countertop, and layered the cooked ham on top, then added lettuce and tomato. He was handling things just fine until she went to the maple cabinets and reached up for plates. That was when the shirt rose high, exposing the back of her smooth rounded thighs.

Damn. He glanced away. A man could only take so much. Suddenly the back door slammed and in seconds Zach appeared in the kitchen.

The old foreman glanced around the room. His hazel eyes sparkling as he grinned. “Well, if this doesn’t look cozy.”

CHAPTER THREE

LEAH realized what her being half naked and standing in the Rawlins’s kitchen must look like. But she pushed aside her embarrassment, put a smile on her face and went to greet Zach.

“You’re just in time for lunch,” she announced. “Do you want a ham or a turkey sandwich?”

The foreman glanced at Holt. “I don’t want to interrupt…”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?” Holt told him. “You might as well sit down. We’re just killing time until Leah’s clothes dry.”

“So you two got caught in the storm?”

“We were headed back,” Leah said. Why was she feeling guilty? “Sure you don’t want a sandwich, Zach?”

“Well…if it’s not too much trouble.” The foreman went to the table and sat down across from Holt.

Leah smiled. “Not for you.”

“I take it you didn’t have any luck finding the boy,” Zach said.

“No, but I’m not giving up,” she assured him. “He’s out there somewhere.” She turned back to her task at the counter.

“I think he’s moved on,” Holt said. “We haven’t seen any sign of him since yesterday morning.”

Leah placed the sandwiches on mismatched plates from the cupboard and carried them to the table. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t out there.” She went back and poured two glasses of milk, staying busy to keep calm. “I have some places to check tomorrow.” She sat down next to Zach, tugging her makeshift robe over her knees. “I thought I’d try the old Hutchinson mine up on the south ridge.”

“That’s a thought,” Zach said. “There’s water close by and even though the cabin is old, it’s still in good shape.” He bit into his sandwich.

“Hey, don’t I have a say in this?” Holt asked. “I can’t keep traipsing around the countryside looking for a kid who doesn’t want to be found.”

Leah tensed. “Then I’ll go by myself.”

“Not without my permission.”

She caught his determined gaze, but she wasn’t intimidated. “I’m sure the sheriff could get some volunteers together within an hour and search until nightfall.”

Holt glared. “I don’t like being threatened.”

“Not any more than I like to think about a child being left out there alone.” She got up from the table, went to the mudroom and slammed the door behind her.

“Well, you’ve done it now,” Zach said as he looked at Holt. “Maybe where you come from people don’t care about other people, but around here we take care of our own. If you won’t go with Leah, then I will.”

Holt tensed, knowing it wasn’t true that everyone in Destiny took care of, their own. His father hadn’t. Something tightened in his chest. Even Holt wasn’t so callous as to let a kid roam around the wilderness.

“Will you stop grumbling? I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.” Ignoring the gleam in the old man’s eyes, he stood and went to the mudroom. He opened the door just in time to see Leah pull her jeans over those long smooth legs.

Damn. His body suddenly stirred to life.

She jerked around and fisted the shirt edges together. “Do you mind?”

Holt leaned against the doorjamb as if the intimacy of watching her didn’t bother him at all. Like hell. He forced a smile. “Not at all.”

Leah turned her back on him and fastened the jeans. “I’m going back to town now. I’ll get your shirt back to you.”

“Keep it as long as you want. It looks a lot better on you anyway.”

She ignored him and pulled on her boots, then grabbed her blouse and bra off the dryer. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I’ll have the horses saddled about eight.”

She froze. “But I thought—”

“I only said I couldn’t keep doing this all day…every day. I do have to help Zach with chores, and we’re trying to organize the roundup.”

“I know.” Her expression softened as she came closer. “Holt, I appreciate your time and help, especially after the mishap in the mine.”

She looked young…and innocent as she flashed those big brown eyes at him. He felt the reaction deep in his gut. She drew more than protective instincts from him. “That’s why you shouldn’t go into those mines alone.”

Leah nibbled on her lower lip. “So…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she said.

Holt nodded, not trusting himself with saying anything more.

“Goodbye,” she said, then darted out the door and down the steps. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, but she seemed to hardly notice it. Leah raised her face skyward and drew a deep breath before she got into her car.

From the window he watched her drive off. Had he ever been that carefree? He knew the answer to that. He’d been driven all his life. His mother, Elizabeth Pershing, had expected certain things from her only child. He had to uphold the blue-blood old Boston Pershing family’s name. And being the son of a Colorado rancher had already been a black mark against him. As hard as he tried, Holt never felt good enough to be a Pershing. He’d once overheard his grandparents say that Elizabeth had made a mistake marrying, and having a child with John Rawlins. Holt never doubted that he was the “mistake.”

The one difference between himself and his mother was he’d finally stopped trying to please the family. When he’d heard of John Rawlins’s death—and even with his Grandmother Pershing’s threats to disinherit him—Holt had quit his job and moved to Colorado to take over the ranch.

He walked away from his career and from the woman he supposedly loved. Melanie was everything a man could want. But when she wanted to settle down and start a family, he couldn’t take that step.

He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love.