Made for the Rancher Read online

  Her long dark curls tumbled down almost to her waist and bounced as she walked toward him. She had never been tiny, and she had filled out more in the years since he had last seen her. With her gleaming dark eyes, rosy cheeks and snug orange T-shirt, she gave the bright pink seats and decorations in the sandwich shop some competition. He recalled her hanging around the schoolyard in grade school. He had been a couple of years ahead of her. Even that long ago, she had always acted larger than life—and been the life of the party.

  Thinking of Sean, he frowned. Maybe Ally as a babysitter wouldn’t be such a good influence on a preteen or a teenager...but a one-month-old? What could it hurt? Besides, even if she accepted the offer he planned to present to her, he and the baby wouldn’t be here long enough for her to make much of an impact.

  “Hi.” Sounding a little breathless, she took the booth across from him. “I got here as soon as I could.”

  “Hope you didn’t have to rush.”

  “No rush. No more than usual, anyhow. My papa says I never run at half speed when I can take it up to full.” She laughed. “But I’m running behind now because, just as I was leaving, one of the customers came to the register with a big order.”

  Since they had met up at the store, she had slicked something on her lips, shiny and red as cherry candy. Suddenly, he felt an urge to lean across the tabletop for a taste.

  Whoa, Nelly.

  He’d been away from women too long. Or not long enough.

  Sex wasn’t supposed to be on his radar for a good while into the future. Preferably, at least not till Sean turned twenty-one. He tried to think back to his school days and the younger Ally, when the few years’ age difference between them seemed to be a much wider gap.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked. “You’re frowning.”

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just trying to decide what to have. To drink.”

  Layne returned to the booth, and they each ordered sweet tea without the sweet and a wedge of lemon.

  Ally sat fiddling with an armload of gold bracelets she wore on one wrist. She hadn’t had them on at the store, he’d noticed...then wondered why he’d taken note of her bare, tanned arm in the first place. Anyhow, she probably didn’t want the bracelets to get damaged while she was stocking shelves.

  “We have the same taste in drinks,” she said a moment later.

  “I guess we do.”

  They made small talk until their teas arrived. Ally’s quick drink left the straw candy-tipped from her lipstick. She smiled at him. “So, how has the big, bad city been treating you all these years? Well enough, I guess, or you would have been home again before now.”

  “Houston did treat me well, I have to admit.” The woman he had met just before graduation was another story. “Going to school there was a good experience, one I don’t regret. But I’m not in Houston anymore. I’ve got a job outside San Antonio, sales manager for a distributor of farming equipment.”

  She blinked those big dark eyes. “Why would you be selling farm equipment, when you have a ranch right here to come home to?”

  “It pays the bills.”

  “Oh.” His curt reply had thrown her. It didn’t keep her down for long. “Well, I can certainly see the benefits of that.”

  He hoped so. Just as he hoped this meeting would benefit them both. But he wanted to lead up to his idea slowly. And he didn’t want to say too much about the past. If he had his way, neither Ally nor anyone else in Cowboy Creek would learn what happened between him and the woman he’d loved and had thought loved him, too.

  He grabbed his tea glass. He had skipped the straw and now took such a long swallow, ice cubes clattered against his front teeth. “What about you? You didn’t sound so overjoyed about the job at the store.”

  Even with her tanned skin and the pink makeup on her cheeks, he saw the telltale darkening of her flush. “I was just joking, pointing out the differences between us. Actually, it’s a great job. Of course, I could always use some extra money. Who couldn’t? But there’s not a lot of work in Cowboy Creek, unless you’re a cowboy or want to help decorate for weddings at the Hitching Post. I’d rather decorate a cowboy.”

  She shot him a flirty grin. “Kidding again, in case you didn’t catch that. But, honestly, since I still live at home, my bills aren’t too bad.”

  “How are your parents doing?”

  “Great. Papa’s still working at the car dealership, and Mama’s still spoiling us both, making us breakfast before we head out to work every morning.” She laughed. “Mama’s always complaining my hours cut into her beauty sleep. But I’m an early riser, which means the seven-to-three shift works for me. Plus, it leaves my evenings free.”

  The perfect opening. “Yeah, so you’d said. You still like to hang out at the Cantina?”

  “Sometimes. My friends and I will go there for the dance nights. Or go to the movies or bowling. You know, all the highlights of Cowboy Creek.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. I remember. I wanted to ask about the time you said you had free. While I’m here, I could use some help in the late afternoon and maybe some evenings.”

  Ally reached for her tea glass again and hoped Reagan couldn’t see her hand shaking. This was Reagan Chase, the boy she had had a crush on all through school, the boy who had barely seemed to notice she was alive. Even back then, to her, he had looked hotter than a jalapeño—and he had grown up to become a man who looked ten times better than he had years ago.

  And that man wanted her help.

  “Of course,” she said brightly, trying to hide her elation. “I’d be happy to give you a hand. Since you haven’t been home since...since your mama and then your father died, I’m sure there’s a lot to be done at the house. I’m sorry about your parents, Reagan,” she said in a softer tone, “and sorry I never had the chance to tell you before today.”

  How could she—or anyone else in Cowboy Creek—have told him? He hadn’t been home since before his mama died.

  He nodded.

  She hesitated, then said, “It’s been over a year since your father passed. What brings you home now?”

  He looked down at his glass. She felt sure he wouldn’t answer. Too late, she realized maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

  Finally, he said, “The right way to phrase that question probably is why haven’t I come back before now.” He shrugged. “This was the first chance I had to get here.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re back. Everyone else will be, too. And I’m happy to help you empty closets, sort through cabinets, do some cleaning.”

  But not clearing out. Now you’re here, tell me you’re going to stay.

  “Thanks,” he said, “but that’s not the kind of help I need.”

  Because you are planning to stay.

  Her heart nearly jumped from joy. She couldn’t help the reaction. She’d had years of history behind her when it came to caring about Reagan.

  “That’s fine, too,” she assured him. “If it’s anything to do with paperwork, I can help. I do some of the parts orders and the filing at the store. And Tina’s a bookkeeper. She’ll help me out if you need to do anything with financial paperwork or taxes. So...what can I do for you?”

  He smiled, and her heart gave an extra thump.

  “While I’m in town,” he said, “I need a babysitter.”

  Copyright © 2017 by Barbara White-Rayczek

  ISBN-13: 9781488010743

  Made for the Rancher

  Copyright © 2017 by Rebecca Winters

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