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Authors: Denise Hunter

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A Cowboy's Touch (5 page)

BOOK: A Cowboy's Touch
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Abigail eased the car along the side of the property, and a small shed came into view. Nothing there either.

“Doesn’t look like they’re home,” Maddy said.

“Hardly looks like anyone lives here. You sure this is her house?”

“I’m sure. We were kinda friends in the third grade, and I came over a couple times. She lives here with her mom.”

Abigail wondered what had become of Olivia’s father. She was starting to feel sorry for the family. “Well, that’s about all we can do for now. My aunt’s closing up shop, and I need to give her a ride home—seeing as how this is her car and all.”

She smiled at Maddy, but the girl was looking out the window, forlorn.

Abigail put the car in drive and headed back up the road. “Don’t worry, Maddy, I won’t give up. I’ll call the sheriff again tomorrow and see if he’s learned anything. And I called a used bike shop in Bozeman today. They haven’t seen your bike, but they said they’ll keep an eye out. Someone always knows something. It’s just a matter of finding the right person. So cheer up, okay?”

Maddy worked her lip. “I actually wasn’t thinking about my bike. I mean, I’m worried about it and everything, but there’s something else.”

“What is it?”

“I have to ask something, and I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just ask.”

“Dad said I should be subtle.”

Now Abigail was curious. “I’m more a fan of blunt, actually.”

Maddy tossed her a relieved smile. “Oh, good. Blunt is my specialty.”

Abigail laughed as she turned onto Main Street. “Out with it then.”

“Would you be my nanny for the summer?” The words spilled out like a tipped carton of milk. “My dad says I have to have one, and the one he hired quit before she even started, and now he’s going to call some agency, and I just know I’ll get stuck with a dud for the whole summer!”

Her nanny? Abigail tossed the idea around a little, trying it on for size. It wasn’t like she had other things to do. In fact, she’d been bored silly with her aunt working all day—and it wasn’t like Aunt Lucy needed her at the shop. Abigail would still be close enough to check on her.

“You totally don’t have to say yes. I mean, you’ve already been so nice to me.”

Maddy had kind of grown on Abigail in a short time. She felt a kinship with the girl, having lost a parent herself. Plus, didn’t Aunt Lucy say something about the main house having Internet? She’d be able to do research in her spare time without having to find a way into town.

“Are you mad?” Maddy asked.

Abigail pulled up to the curb in front of the Doll House and put the car in park. “No, honey, not at all. I was thinking it through. Does your nanny stay at the house with you?”

“Yeah. Dad works late a lot, and sometimes things happen and he has to be in the barn all night.”

“Your dad is okay with you asking me?”

Maddy nodded. “He said I could. He’ll want to meet you and ask you questions and stuff. You could come over tonight after he’s done working. If you want to, that is.”

Did she? Abigail envisioned a summer with Maddy, with research opportunity at her fingertips, maybe even a soft bed instead of her aunt’s lumpy, too-short sofa.

She turned to Maddy, smiling. “Actually, I think I do.”

Maddy punched a fist in the air. “Yes!”

Abigail crossed her legs, adjusting the white crepe skirt over her knees while she waited for Maddy to return with a photo album. She was supposed to be meeting with the girl’s dad, but his work was keeping him late. Abigail knew all about that.

Her mom would have a conniption if she took this job. And Reagan wouldn’t be too thrilled either. Abigail was pretty sure this wasn’t what her sister had in mind when she prescribed rest and relaxation. Still, being at the ranch with Maddy would be restful compared to her job in Chicago.

She’d already met Greta, and the smells drifting from the kitchen were reason enough to take the job as Maddy’s nanny. Aunt Lucy’s culinary skills were limited to canned food, and Abigail never went far beyond macaroni and cheese and hot dogs.

Maddy entered the room with a thick leather-bound album and plunked it on her lap. She opened the cover and ran her small hand over the glossy page. “These were taken at the Fourth of July festival. It’s so much fun. There’s a parade and games and fireworks and lots and lots of food.”

“Looks like a good time.”

“You’ll still be here in July.”

“Sure will. Till the end of August, actually.”

“Maybe we can go together. I can show you around.”

“Sounds like fun.”

As Maddy flipped the page, a male voice sounded in the kitchen.

“Dad’s home. He’ll need to clean up, then he’ll be right in. That’s him right there.” Maddy pointed at the photo of a man somewhere in his thirties.

He was very attractive. In the photo he’d turned to look at the camera with a guarded grin. He wore a brown cowboy hat low over his eyes. Abigail recalled Aunt Lucy’s declaration about Wade being named Sexiest Man Alive. The crazy notion didn’t seem so crazy suddenly.

“This is my dad with one of his trophy buckles—he was the World All-Around Champion more times than anyone else.”

“No kidding.” The photo showed a younger man, smiling wide, holding up his trophy buckle on a stage. In his Western shirt and fitted jeans, Wade Ryan was any woman’s definition of a total hunk.

Wade hung his hat on the peg and pulled off his boots, caked with dirt from an afternoon spent cleaning the corrals.

“I know, I’m late,” he said before Greta could get on him.

“Supper’s keeping warm in the oven, and your daughter’s entertaining your applicant in the living room.”

“She upset?”

“Not as I can tell.” Greta grabbed her purse from the low bench by the door, then slipped into her sweater and tied the belt around her thick middle.

The smells wafting from the oven set a low grumble in his belly. “Thanks, Greta.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“ ’Night.”

The screen clacked quietly into place. In the sudden silence of Greta’s departure, Wade heard his daughter’s voice.

He went to the sink, rolled up his sleeves, and washed the dirt and grime off his hands and forearms. Snagging a towel probably not meant for hands, he followed the sound of Maddy’s voice to the living room doorway, stopping shy of the threshold.

Around the corner, on the couch, he could see the bottom half of them, his daughter’s denims and the woman’s white skirt and sandals.

Maddy was jawing about some rodeo and his finish. A lifetime ago.

“Here he is in the newspaper after he won that All-Around,” Maddy was saying.

“You must be very proud.” The woman had a soft, soothing lilt to her voice.

“Greta says he’s the most eligible bachelor in all Montana. But he doesn’t date.”

Enough of that. Wade cleared his throat and stepped into the room, and Maddy looked up from the photo album.

“You’re late, Dad.”

His eyes drifted to the woman beside his daughter.
Miss Lucy’s niece, my foot
. The woman couldn’t be a day past twenty-five. She had flawless skin and large eyes of questionable color.

When she stood, her honey-colored hair swung over her shoulders. The top of her head reached his lips, which made her tall by anyone’s standards.

“Hi. I’m Abigail.”

“Wade. Sorry to keep you waiting.” And he was especially sorry he smelled like cow flesh and wore the grime of a day spent in the corral branding a hundred feisty calves.

He ditched the towel and extended his hand. At least that was clean.

“I’ve been enjoying talking to your daughter.” Her grip was firm, her skin soft.

He pulled away quickly. “Maddy, why don’t you run along and let us talk.”

Maddy gave Abigail a small smile before heading up the stairs.

He ran his hand through his hair, aware he no doubt had a bad case of hat head. When he heard Maddy’s bedroom door close, he gestured toward the album. “Sorry. Looks like she got a little overzealous with the family history.”

“Not at all. I met Maddy the other day in my aunt’s store, and we’ve become fast friends. I guess she told you I’m Lucy Bowers’s great-niece.”

He took a seat in the recliner across from her. “She did.” With the exception of the “great” part.

“I like Maddy a lot.”

“She’s at ease around you already. I’m surprised.”

“She was shy at first, seemed a little lost. But then she opened up. I think she’s a loyal and curious girl. Strong, too, though she may not know it yet.”

He kept his expression blank only from years of practice. The woman knew his kid better after a couple days than her past nanny had after three summers.

“Sorry if I offended you,” she said, absently playing with the silver ring on her right hand.

He cleared his throat. “Appreciate your honesty.”

“I have good intuition, or so I’m told.”

The announcement and proof of its accuracy made Wade want to don a lead mask. But some things couldn’t be intuited, no matter how discerning the woman, and those things he would carry to his grave.

“I have a great deal of respect for your aunt,” he said. “She’s a fine Christian woman, and she’s been good to Maddy. You’re visiting for the summer?”

“My mom wanted me to check on Aunt Lucy, as she’s getting up in years. I have a three-month leave of absence from my job in Chicago.”

Long leave of absence.

“Health reasons,” she added as if sensing his question.

He wondered if it would be rude to inquire. Would her health limit her?

“Nothing serious.” She waved her hand. “Just needed a break and a change of scenery—which this certainly is.”

“No doubt.” He eyed her getup and wondered if she had ranch duds.

“I have jeans,” she said. “And I should probably buy a pair of boots.”

It was a little disconcerting, the way she read his mind. “Probably should.”

“I like the ranch name—Stillwater. Did you name it?”

“Got it from Scripture. You know, ‘He leads me by quiet waters.’”

“Ah, Psalm 23. A popular one.”

“Seemed fitting.” Before she could question his comment, he changed the subject. “Our nanny usually stays here in the main house—my hours aren’t exactly nine to five.” He looked her over, feeling a twinge of something he hadn’t felt in a while. “But if you want to stay at your aunt’s—”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind staying here. I’d be more available to Maddy, and honestly, the couch at Aunt Lucy’s? Not so comfy.” Her wide smile kicked him in the gut.

He was so in trouble. “Fine.”

“I hope you wouldn’t mind us checking on her now and then. I don’t have a car, but we could walk over.”

“You’re welcome to use my truck. Maddy likes visiting your aunt, so that’d be fine. Sundays off?” He named a wage that seemed fair, considering the free room and board.

“Perfect. When does school end?”

“Tomorrow’s the last day. You can come the next morning and settle in if that suits.”

Abigail smiled again. “Suits me fine. Thanks for your time.” She stood and swung her bag onto her shoulder.

BOOK: A Cowboy's Touch
5.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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