Just What the Cowboy Needed Read online

  The problem was, she was perfect for this job, except the part where Logan wanted to find out if she might be attracted to him, too. He would know only if he made a move on her and that was out of the question. But accepting that didn’t make the wanting go away. Why couldn’t she be a sweet old lady? Or even a crabby one who was great with kids? Since luck had never been on his side, there was no reason to hope for a change now.

  Hiring her to take care of his daughter was trouble with a capital T, but by the time he’d met her Cassie’s mom had all but signed her onto the payroll. His approval was more symbolic than anything, and her credentials were impeccable. No way could he admit he was the problem and why that was. So Grace was here for the next eight weeks.

  God help him.

  He cleared his throat. “Grace—”

  “Oh, my God!” She whirled around, dropping the stack of panties and bras she’d been about to put in a drawer. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that her panties were skimpy, lacy and at least one pair was red and one black. Might have been a pink one, too, but verifying would mean staring and that wasn’t smart. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Maybe I should wear a bell around my neck.”

  “Works for me.” She blew out a breath. “Is there something you needed?”

  That was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one, but that’s not what she meant. “Cassie’s finished in the tub and I’m going to brush out her hair. She thought you might want to watch, in case you have to do it.”

  “Of course. Hair brushing doesn’t have a steep learning curve, but she’s only five. Easing into the situation to make the transition smoother is a great idea.”

  “She does have a mind of her own. Sometimes it’s better just to go with it.” He turned away, knowing she was crossing the room to follow. Not that he was psychic. The scent of her perfume grew stronger and settled inside him. He was pretty sure he could find her in a pitch-black room.

  In the bathroom Cassie had pulled some girlie nightgown over her head and stood waiting for them. She grinned. “Hi, Grace. I’m all clean.”

  “I see that. And your hair is all wet.”

  “I know. Daddy’s going to show you how he combs all the tangles out. He learned from Mommy.”

  He grabbed the special spray hair product and squirted the liquid on her head, then picked up the wide-toothed comb to slowly drag it from her forehead all the way past her shoulders. “Are you sure you don’t want to get all this cut off?”

  “No!” Cassie and Grace spoke together.

  Logan looked from the small female to the taller one. “I guess it’s unanimous.”

  “Your hair is gorgeous,” Grace told the little girl. “Don’t let him talk you into cutting it.”

  “No way.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m glad Grace is here.”

  “Yeah.” He met her gaze and forced himself not to look at her mouth. If it was up to him, he would advise her to get out before his bad rubbed off on her. Surely there was a woman over sixty in Blackwater Lake who could do this job.

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweetie,” Grace said. “But I have to say your dad is doing a great job.”

  “You sound surprised.” He continued working out the tangles with the comb.

  “Maybe a little. She has thick hair, but you make it look easy.”

  “Daddy says it’s not that different from brushing the horses.” Cassie giggled, and her tone said she liked ratting him out.

  Humor sparkled in Grace’s eyes. “So you use a pricey hair product to detangle horse hair in order to not hurt their delicate scalp?”

  “What if I said yes?” He couldn’t resist smiling at that.

  “I’d say you have some very pampered horses here on the ranch.”

  On one knee behind his daughter, Logan slowly pulled the plastic comb through the long hair as gently as possible. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her for anything. “Horses are a business asset, and it wouldn’t be smart to neglect them. They serve a purpose and need to be maintained. Just like a car or any other piece of equipment.”

  “Agreed.” But she looked puzzled. “And yet, I can’t help wondering about the context of the conversation that you had with Cassie, comparing her hair to brushing a horse.”

  “This little girl wouldn’t hold still.”

  Cassie nodded, throwing off the comb and proving the truth of his words. “Daddy said the horses didn’t move while he was brushin’ ’em. And he betted me I couldn’t be like a horse.”

  “Did he now?” Grace nodded her approval. “Who won the bet?”

  “Daddy did.” She sighed. “Holding still is really hard.”

  “Are the horses older than five?”

  “Not all of them.” Logan stopped combing and looked up at her. “But I see where you’re going with this. Chronological age doesn’t work the same in horses as it does in humans.”

  Cassie had the expression on her face that said she thought he hung the moon. “My daddy knows everything. Don’t you, Daddy?”

  Logan dreaded the day when she would find out for sure that he didn’t know very much of anything. “I know enough to take care of them and keep them healthy. And when it’s necessary to consult someone else who knows more than me.”

  “And you can ride really good, too. Daddy, you promised to teach me how when I was five. And now I am.”

  His stomach knotted with dread. When he’d promised her that, it had sounded so far in the future. Now, suddenly she was five. Next thing he knew she’d be dating boys and asking to drive a car.

  “It’s getting late. Why don’t we talk about this later, baby girl?”

  “That’s what you always say.” The glare on her face said he was one broken promise away from her realizing that he didn’t hang the moon. “And I’m not a baby.”

  He glanced at Grace and couldn’t tell what she was thinking. That pushed him to explain. “It’s not just about being five, honey. You have to be strong enough to handle a horse. To show him who’s boss.”

  “And to get strong,” Grace interjected, “you have to eat right and get enough sleep.”

  Logan shot her a grateful look for the support and the distraction that pulled his ass out of the fire. He stood and looked down at his daughter. “That’s right.”

  “Do you like reading a story at bedtime, Cassie?” Grace asked.

  The little girl turned serious—and literal. “I don’t know how to read yet. But in September I’m going to big-girl school so I can learn.”

  “How about if I read?” Grace pressed her full lips together, probably to hold back a laugh.

  Too bad, Logan thought. He’d heard her laugh and liked it a lot. But he didn’t count. Cassie’s opinion was the one that mattered and she seemed completely taken with Grace. As comfortable as if she’d known her forever. That was the most important thing. More significant than Grace’s pretty sun-streaked brown hair and big hazel eyes.

  That did it. No one would ever accuse him of being poetic, so it was a clear sign that the time had come to make himself scarce.

  “Okay, baby girl—” He saw the rebellion on the little freckled face and held up his hand. “My bad. You’re not a baby. But I’m still going to tuck you into bed, then Grace can read you a story.”

  “Okay.”

  Logan took her small hand and they walked to her room. Then he picked her up and set her gently on the mattress before pulling the covers over her. “Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Daddy, don’t you want to hear the story, too?”

  “I’d love to but—” He needed space. “This will give you and Grace a chance to get to know each other. Remember, I won’t be around much because I have to work and run the ranch. That’s my job.”

&
nbsp; “So Grace is like Mary Poppins,” Cassie said.

  “The movie?”

  “Yes. Mary Poppins comes to take care of kids and she does magic. When she goes away at the end the whole family is happy.”

  Logan looked at the woman he’d hired. “I don’t know if Grace can do magic, but she’s here to watch out for you. Most of the time you’ll be with her.”

  “You still have to teach me to ride a horse, Daddy.”

  He ignored that and it went into the file of not a hill he was going to die on tonight. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep so you grow big and strong.”

  Logan stood in the hall for a few moments, listening to the sound of Grace’s voice reading Cassie’s favorite Dr. Seuss book. With a sigh he turned away and headed downstairs, where he was going to try like hell not to think about that woman’s sexy underwear on the floor of her room. Or how she might look wearing nothing but those red panties. A good single-malt Scotch might help with that, but liquor traditionally tore down walls and willpower, which was the complete opposite of his current goal.

  Coffee was a safer bet, so he poured some that was left over from this morning into a mug and warmed it in the microwave, then headed to his downstairs home office for the inevitable computer work. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard a knock and glanced over to see Grace in the doorway.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I just thought you should know that Cassie is asleep.”

  “Good. Thanks.” He started to swivel back to the computer monitor.

  “Can I talk to you? About Cassie,” she added, as if his distancing himself from her was obvious.

  “Of course. Have a seat.” The invitation was automatic because he didn’t want her to get comfortable enough to stick around.

  “Thanks.” She sat in one of the club chairs in front of his desk.

  “Is there a problem?” He was studying her and saw the color that rose into her cheeks. What was that about?

  “No.” The response was quick and a little sharp. “Your daughter is wonderful.”

  “She’s the best.” And deserved someone without his shortcomings as a father. Unfortunately, he was what she got.

  “I just need to know what you expect of me.”

  He expected that her skin was even softer than it looked, and if he touched his mouth to hers... There it was. His shortcomings as a man were scratching to get out. He shook his head to clear it. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “When I interviewed we talked mostly about my qualifications and obviously my job is to watch over Cassie and keep her safe.”

  “Did Tracy explain that she thought it best to bring you in before her wedding so Cass can get used to the arrangement? Also, she has a million things to do to get ready for her day. And by the time she leaves on the honeymoon, she’ll feel comfortable that everything with our daughter is going smoothly?”

  “Yes. She said she’ll be gone six weeks.”

  “Right. So, we’re good—”

  “Wait. I know you work long hours and won’t be around to ask, so it would be good to go over the questions I’ve thought of, like... How do you want her time structured? Tracy said my application for this job stood out because I teach kindergarten and Cassie will be starting in September. Do you want activities channeled for learning? Or strictly fun?”

  Logan had no idea. This was Tracy’s deal. She was Cassie’s mom and made all the decisions. Since he only ever had his daughter on weekends, Logan deferred to her mother’s maternal instincts and judgment. He always had. His upbringing was so screwed up that he had no business deciding anything for his daughter.

  He looked at Grace and hoped the panic didn’t show. “You’re the expert in that department. Do you think she needs learning activities all summer?”

  “She’s really bright, so probably not. But I can plan some things to do that are fun, and she won’t even know she’s learning.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think kids should be carefree while they can be. Responsibility comes soon enough.”

  It had come too soon for him. Logan was just a kid himself when his mom took her four children and left his wealthy, cheating father. They ended up homeless, even though she waitressed and cleaned houses, doing her best to take care of them. Logan took on being head of the family to protect her and his siblings. He’d been twelve then and didn’t recommend it for any kid.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Fun first. No dedicated learning during the summer. Good talk. I’m glad—”

  “Wait. Something else I need to ask.”

  “Shoot.” He held in a sigh.

  “As far as structuring time... Do you need me to do housekeeping? Cooking? Anything like that?”

  “I have someone who comes in once a week, so probably not. But cooking for Cassie and you is something you’ll need to handle.”

  “No problem. I’m happy to plan meals and make a plate for you, if you’d like.”

  There was a sweetness in her voice, an expression in her eyes, a softness that any man could get used to. And it pierced the hollow emptiness inside him. He was normally dead tired when he finished work at night, and that obviously lowered his resistance. It was his only excuse for saying, “That would be nice.”

  “Great. Pleased to do it.” And she smiled as if that was the truth.

  “So, if there’s nothing else...”

  “Just one more thing.”

  There always was. “Okay. What is it?”

  “Why don’t you want to teach Cassie to ride a horse?”

  “What makes you think I don’t?” He didn’t, but that was beside the point.

  “I read between the lines,” Grace said. “The fact that you always say you’ll talk about it later coupled with her protest that she’s not a baby. Apparently she feels treated like one.”

  Logan was pretty sure that at this point in a conversation a mother would fall back on “because I’m the mom and know best.” He couldn’t do the dad version because he had no idea what the blueprint of a good one looked like. All he could think to say was, “What’s your point?”

  “Just that I live in a ranching community and teach kindergarten. Lots of children learn to ride even younger than Cassie. So what are you afraid of?”

  That he’d be outed as a fraud? The bad that he grew up with was carved into him and would somehow come out and hurt his daughter? “I’m not afraid of anything. But I gave my word to Tracy that our child will be in one cute, adorable piece when she comes back from her honeymoon. You’ve been hired to help me do that.”

  “Right.” Her tone said she’d noticed he hadn’t actually answered her question about teaching Cassie to ride. “That’s it, then. Good night, Logan.”

  He watched the sway of her hips as she left his office, then let out a long breath. Cassie would be fine when this was all over because he’d walk through fire to make sure of it, but he wasn’t so sure about himself.

  Grace Flynn was unexpected, and nine times out of ten that was not a good thing.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning after a late breakfast, Cassie wanted to have a tea party outside on the front porch. It was a spectacular late June day and Grace didn’t see any reason to say no.

  “Let’s get our supplies together,” she said.

  In the spacious family room a very large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall above the rock fireplace and oak mantel. There was also a very large area in a corner beside it where the little girl’s toys were stored. The two of them stood side by side looking at it and taking stock of what they would need.

  “Do you want to sit on a blanket and spread out? Or use the outside furniture or your play table? And before you answer, keep in mind that whatever we take outside with us has to be brought back in.”

 
The little girl thought for a moment. “There are only two chairs on the porch, and my table is too little for Daddy. So maybe a blanket, just in case he has time to play there will be enough room for him.”

  “Does he play with you often?”

  “No. Never.”

  Logan had made it clear that running a ranch took up most of his time and not to expect him to be around much. But there was sadness behind this little girl’s resignation and, apparently, a dash of hope that he might one day have a moment to stop and hang with her, if tea party seating to accommodate his size was anything to go by. If they were talking his sex appeal, Grace couldn’t imagine a venue spacious enough to contain it. Just an observation, not personal or anything.

  “Okay,” she said. “A blanket it is.”

  An old quilt was neatly folded among the games and toys. Grace grabbed it along with a mesh bag full of pink cups, saucers, a teapot and plastic utensils. She took the string handles, then slipped them over her arm. “We’ll need this.”

  “And people, too. But who can I bring?” Cassie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Ariel has a time-out.”

  Grace pressed her lips together to hold back her amusement. This child sounded like a miniature adult, and it was so adorable. When she could talk without laughing she asked, “What did Ariel do to get in trouble?”

  “She talked back to her mom. And being tired and crabby is no excuse. Moms get tired and crabby, too. But Daddy never does.” She picked up another doll and shook her head. “Ella can’t go either. Her mom said she had to eat her vegetables and she gave them to the dog.”

  Grace knelt down and scooped up a soft, pink terry-cloth baby. “How about this cutie?”

  “No.” Cassie shook her head. “She was whining and her mommy ran out of patience.”

  Grace noticed that this child was projecting her own experiences on the dolls, and the discipline was clearly mom-centered. “Do their dads ever give them a time-out?”