Jill Lynn - Her Texas Cowboy

Rachel’s sister-in-law had aged well in the years since she’d met and married Cash. She wore khaki shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, her long mocha hair pulled into a ponytail. Even without makeup, she was striking. But more than her outside beauty, she was tender and compassionate with enough snark to make her likeable. The sister Rachel had never had. When Rachel had been in high school, Olivia had been her volleyball coach. She’d made a huge impact on Rachel and mentored her at a time when she’d been missing her parents and floundering.

“Sorry, Rach. Gray needs to get dressed and I had planned to sneak in and grab a few things without waking you. But it seems our boy had a different idea.”

Rachel captured Grayson and tugged him close, holding him in a tight grip that made him squirm and giggle. “It’s okay. I was up and hungry, and I love to eat little boys for breakfast.”

He squealed and tried to get away while she smacked a kiss to his chocolate hair that still carried the sweet, fruity smell of kiddo shampoo from last night’s bath.

“Auntie Rachel, will you take me riding?” When those hazel eyes peered up at her, Rachel didn’t stand a chance of saying no. Not that she wanted to. Part of her plan for the summer was to help Liv with the kids. If she was home waiting on a job, she could at least lend a hand. She’d already finished all of the requirements needed by the State of Texas in order to be ready for the new opportunity. Which meant now she needed to occupy herself while playing the waiting game.

“Yep. Just let me get dressed. Can’t ride in our pajamas.”

Grayson’s eyes lit up. “But that would be cool.”

Within a half hour Rachel had eaten a bowl of cereal and downed a cup of coffee. Now she and Grayson were saddled up and headed out. He looked so happy, sitting in front of her in the saddle, mini cowboy hat on his head. Her heart just about gushed out all the love it held. She really, really adored her nephews. They were one plus in being home this summer.

The two of them meandered out on the ranch, stopping to visit with Cash and a few of the ranch hands before riding to the east edge of the property.

Rachel had forgotten about the old house that popped into view. It had been part of a ranch that had gone under decades before, and her parents had bought the land as an addition to the Circle M. She remembered a story about a skirmish between her dad and Hunter’s, as they’d both wanted the property flanked by their two spreads. Her father had won the tussle, and she and Hunter had grown up on neighboring ranches.

Not that the McDermotts cared about this small slip of ranchland anymore. They were like land barons. They’d snatched up a number of smaller ranches over the years and now had a massive operation.

She directed Bonnie, the sweet mare they were riding, toward the house. A grayish hue tinted the white paint, as though the siding had given up fighting against the Texas sun years before. It looked deserted. No recent tire tracks. The grass around it was unruly and long.

Strange. Before she’d left for college, various ranch hands had rented the small house or negotiated living there as part of their pay. She didn’t know what Cash did with it now.

Movement to the east caught her eye. A man on a horse crested a hill on the McDermott ranch. Too far away to tell for sure who it was, especially with the cowboy hat, but the build could definitely be Hunter’s.

“Can we get down and look around?” Grayson questioned.

“Sure!”

Gray looked at her a little funny, and why wouldn’t he? She’d just shown a lot of excitement for poking around an empty house. But if it would help her avoid a run-in with Hunter—if that was him—she couldn’t resist.

Rachel still couldn’t believe the two of them were in charge of building the float with the youth. That would have been useful information to have when Greg had asked Rachel to help. Since their conversation at church yesterday, she’d gone over and over the situation, and she couldn’t see an escape route. She’d committed, and she wasn’t going to back out and leave the church strapped. Besides, she wanted to work with the teens. This would be a great opportunity to show the town she’d changed—that she wasn’t the same immature girl she’d once been.

Rachel wanted people to see her as who she’d become. Not the queen of bad decisions. A crown she’d once had the monopoly on.

She and Hunter would just have to function around each other. If they limited their interactions to Wednesday nights and the occasional sighting at church, Rachel would be out of here and on to her new life in no time.

Bonnie meandered to a stop on the west side of the house, and Rachel and Grayson slipped down from the saddle. Her nephew was more at home riding than most adults she knew. Definitely her brother’s child. When they’d been kids, Cash had always been out working with the horses, doing anything mechanical, helping move cattle and bumming around the ranch with Dad, even at a young age. The memory coaxed a smile. She was thankful the ache of missing her parents had lessened over the years, though it always remained with her.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to go back for one day and tell them how much she loved them.

Gray had already taken off around the front of the house, so Rachel secured Bonnie to the hitching post and trotted after him. The kid only had one speed—fast.

“Can we go inside? Maybe we’ll find a snake!” He’d already climbed the front steps and now stood on the small wooden porch. He tossed his hat on the stair railing, leaving a thick head of mussed brown hair visible. “Or a black widow spider. Or a tarantula.” His excitement increased with each suggestion, while Rachel’s mind screamed, Turn around. Fast .

She peeked through the front window. Papers, a turned-over chair, clothes and some other random items littered the floor. On the front porch, an abandoned wooden swing hung by only one chain. The other side scraped eerily against the floorboards in the slight breeze.

No one lived here. Not at the moment.

“We can try, bud, but I would assume it’s locked.” Rachel attempted to turn the knob, but it didn’t twist. Mostly to prove to Grayson that she’d tried, she shoved on the door with the palm of her hand. Amazingly, it eased open. The latch must have been broken. She pushed the door open wider, and it creaked and groaned as though arthritis crippled its hinges.

Before going inside, she gave the porch a good hard stomp, just in case any critters did live inside. Ignoring the creepy feeling that a spider was about to descend on her head, she took a tentative step inside. It smelled...musty. But daylight streamed in through the windows, illuminating a basic, but surprisingly roomy space. A small bedroom was visible through an open door to the right, and the kitchen area held a few cabinets and an avocado-green stove. An older fridge—the kind that would probably go for megabucks as vintage on eBay—had the doors propped open. Thankfully the contents had been cleaned out before it had been left unplugged.

“Whoa.” Grayson had followed her inside and now stood next to her, thumbs hooked through his belt loops as he studied the room. “This could be my fort. I’d pretend the bad guys were coming.” His fingers formed guns as he faced the door. “I’d have everything ready. They wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

Just like Grayson to see the possibilities instead of the obstacles. At four years old—soon to be five—he had the sweetest optimism about life. Rachel would like to take a scoop of it with her wherever she went. She ran a hand through his soft hair. “Totally, buddy. You’d have the fastest guns, for sure.”

Grayson walked the open stretch of floor, boots echoing against the wood. He stopped at the end of the room, head tilted in concentration. “Think Dad would let me move out here?”

She managed to stem the laughter bubbling in her throat. “I don’t know about that, Gray.”

Though she could understand his interest. The place did have a certain charm—if she looked past the mess that had been left behind. For a family, it would be tiny. But for one or two people? Cozy. Quiet.

If she could get this place cleaned up, maybe she could move out here for the next month or two. She could give Olivia, Cash and the boys their house back while still being around to help and spend time with them. Rachel pressed the pause button on her rampant thoughts. The idea was crazy. The house might not be falling to pieces, but it would take too long if she attempted it on her own. Rachel could admit it was as tempting to her as Grayson’s fort was to him, though.

“Auntie Rachel, can I go outside?” Grayson had already zipped through the small bathroom and bedroom and must have gotten bored with the space.

Liv let Grayson play outdoors by himself for little bits of time, so Rachel thought the same rule could apply here. “If you stay within five steps of the house.”

“Five giant steps?”

With his little legs? “Deal.”

“Front and back?”

“Just front. That way I can keep an eye on you through the windows.”

His nose wrinkled as if to say he didn’t need that kind of supervision, but then he scampered outside.

She moved into the bedroom, watching through the old, white-wood-framed glass window as Grayson scooted down the porch steps, and then, true to form, counted out five long strides from the house. When he reached the limit, he bent down, grabbed a stick and began drawing in the dirt.

Rachel wandered to the east bedroom window and scanned the horizon. No more sign of the rider who had been there minutes before.

If it had been Hunter, he was gone now. Relief rushed in, cool and sweet.

Sometimes she looked back on what had happened with Hunter and wondered how it had all gone so wrong. How they’d switched from best friends to not speaking at all.

Most people didn’t know that Hunter had gotten it into his head to propose to her back then. She hadn’t even told her brother, simply because Rachel had known it couldn’t happen. Getting married at such a young age might have worked out for Hunter. He’d known what he wanted and that it was here. He was a rancher. It had always been this town, this life, for him.

But Cash had given up a lot for her, and she’d been working on maturing at the time. That hadn’t included eloping and throwing away a volleyball scholarship. Even for Hunter.

To say the least, he hadn’t understood.

Their relationship—even their friendship—had been crushed.

Something skittered across the wood floor and Rachel screamed. An old brown chair had been left behind in the corner of the room, and she ran for it, jumping up. It wobbled under her weight but thankfully held. Screeches continued to slip out of her as the mouse paused to stare her down, then ran for the edge of the room.

She shivered as it disappeared beneath some warped trim. Eek , that thing had freaked her out. Her heart stampeded, and she sucked in a calming breath, thankful no one was around to see her silly antics over such a tiny creature.

“What are you doing?” Hunter leaned against the bedroom doorframe, arms crossed. Looking casual. Amused.

Her eyes momentarily closed. So it had been him she’d seen. He must have left his hat somewhere, because his hair looked as though a hand had scrubbed through the short, dark blond locks only seconds before.

Stinky, stink, stink. How long had he been standing there? She looked down at the chair under her boots, then back to him, contemplating asking, God, why? Why Hunter? Why now?