Captivating A Cowboy
Captivating A Cowboy
Jill Limber
THE RANCHER…A man would have to be blind not to notice pretty, sophisticated Julie Kerns, Ferndale's newest arrival. And good-looking Tony Graham was far from visually impaired. But when the fiercely independent beauty needed him to renovate her grandmother's old Victorian, he couldn't stop the unsettling images of them living together in the house–as a family.AND THE CITY SLICKERReturn to Ferndale? Never! Julie envisioned herself among the bright lights and bustle of L.A. forever. Yet she found herself a reluctant homeowner in the tiny town of bad childhood memories. Could the sexy, small-town cowboy make her see there was joy to be found in country life…with him in the picture?
Boy, they sure didn’t grow them like this in Los Angeles.
From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall, gorgeous hunk of man.
Julie flashed him her best smile and tried to focus on what he was saying. “You could help me with what?”
She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who’d be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.
He took off his hat and ran a hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair. “Handling the sander, ma’am.”
Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?
She hoped not….
Dear Reader,
We’ve been busy here at Silhouette Romance cooking up the next batch of tender, emotion-filled romances to add extra sizzle to your day.
First on the menu is Laurey Bright’s modern-day Sleeping Beauty story, With His Kiss (#1660). Next, Melissa McClone whips up a sensuous, Survivor-like tale when total opposites must survive two weeks on an island, in The Wedding Adventure (#1661). Then bite into the next juicy SOULMATES series addition, The Knight’s Kiss (#1663) by Nicole Burnham, about a cursed knight and the modern-day princess who has the power to unlock his hardened heart.
We hope you have room for more, because we have three other treats in store for you. First, popular Silhouette Romance author Susan Meier turns on the heat in The Nanny Solution (#1662), the third in her DAYCARE DADS miniseries about single fathers who learn the ABCs of love. Then, in Jill Limber’s Captivating a Cowboy (#1664), are a city girl and a dyed-in-the-wool cowboy a recipe for disaster…or romance? Finally, Lissa Manley dishes out the laughs with The Bachelor Chronicles (#1665), in which a sassy journalist is assigned to get the city’s most eligible—and stubborn—bachelor to go on a blind date!
I guarantee these heartwarming stories will keep you satisfied until next month when we serve up our list of great summer reads.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Captivating a Cowboy
Jill Limber
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Kathy—best buddy and cosmic sister. This one’s for you!
Acknowledgments:
Many thanks to James Weippert—for letting me pick his brain and for his service to his country as a Navy SEAL. Thanks to Dr. Dick O’Connor and Dr. Ernie Tucker for all things medical, along with friendship. Special thanks to Bryn Willson for her wonderful poetry.
Books by Jill Limber
Silhouette Romance
The 15 lb. Matchmaker #1593
Captivating a Cowboy #1664
JILL LIMBER
lives in San Diego with her husband. Now that her children are grown, their two dogs keep her company while she sits at her computer writing stories. A native Californian, she enjoys the beach, loves to swim in the ocean, and for relaxation she daydreams and reads romances. You can learn more about Jill by visiting her Web site at http://www.JillLimber.com (http://www.JillLimber.com).
Contents
Chapter One (#u6f31322a-72da-5aad-a800-5549e8c942ff)
Chapter Two (#ub218b208-2a29-5760-a62c-de5d8c8b48d4)
Chapter Three (#ud233d2bc-150d-5f4d-a08f-d57d724ae4c8)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Tony saw her the instant she walked into the hardware store. He paused in the aisle and studied the fine piece of eye candy that had sauntered in off the street, putting every fiber of his male being on alert. Her long ponytail twitched over bared shoulders. Snug shorts dipped below a slim waist, showing a band of firm brown flesh where her cropped top didn’t quite meet up with denim. Long slender legs completed the sexy little female package he judged to be about twenty-five years old.
Conversations dropped off one by one until every man in the store, including old Mr. Dunn, turned his head. Cliff, working behind the counter, looked like a deer caught in headlights as she approached him.
Tony was too far away to hear what she asked, but he could see the tips of Cliff’s ears turn a bright red. He pointed to the back of the store. She turned, and Tony felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the place. She had a face like an angel, with big blue-green eyes and a generous upper lip over a full lower lip. A mouth made for kissing and a body built straight out of every man’s fantasy.
Suddenly the fact that every guy in the store was probably thinking the same thing annoyed the hell out of him. He had a sudden irrational and possessively childish urge to tell them he had seen her first.
He shook his head at his own foolishness. He had better things to do with his time than stand in Nilsen’s Hardware and have fantasies that could get him arrested in half the states in the country. If he was going to get his house finished on his land before the cold weather set in so he could move out of his tiny unheated trailer, he needed to get going.
Yeah, right, he thought, rooted to the spot as he watched the utterly female way she walked.
She made her way to the power tools and bent over the boxes that contained sanders. Tony bit back a groan and headed for the counter to pay for his supplies.
A man could only take so much.
Cliff rang up the sack of nails and caulking. He made change, his attention not on what he was doing. Tony had to grab the coins before they dropped on the counter.
“Who is she?” Tony asked, resisting the urge to turn around and take another long look.
Cliff shrugged and leaned to the side so he could see around Tony. “Don’t know. This is the first she’s been in here.”
She had to be new in town, Tony thought. In Ferndale strangers never went unnoticed. Especially women who looked as good as this one.
He lingered until Cliff straightened up and smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, alerting Tony to the fact she was on her way to the counter. He moved a few feet away to look at a display of saw blades.
She walked by him carrying a box and trailing the fragrance of summer flowers, sweet and fresh.
“Does this sander come with instructions?” She laid a credit card beside the box.
Tony stifled a groan. He was all for equal opportunity, but unskilled women and power tools were generally a bad combination.
Cliff slid her plastic credit card across the counter, swiped it through his machine and handed it back before Tony could read the name on it.
Cliff mumbled and reached to open the box. He waved a piece of paper. “Sorry, miss, no operating instructions. Just the usual safety warnings.” He handed her the credit slip to sign.
Unable to help himself, Tony stepped closer, hoping his carnal thoughts didn’t show on his face. “Excuse me, miss. Maybe I could help.”
Julie turned to glance at the great-looking man she had noticed lurking by a display of big metal wheels with wicked teeth. Boy, they sure didn’t grow them like this in Los Angeles. From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall gorgeous hunk of man.
She flashed him her best smile. “Could help me with what?” she asked, wondering exactly what he meant.
She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Shy, perhaps. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who would be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through the close fit of his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.
He took off his hat and ran a big square hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair, then gestured to the box the middle-aged clerk struggled to repackage. “The sander, ma’am.”
The cowboy was blushing. She swallowed a smile. Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?
She hoped not.
She was going to be in Ferndale all summer, and had no friends here. No one she knew from Los Angeles was likely to come for a visit. She’d been dreading being stuck in this small town for three long months.
Quaint Victorian Ferndale hadn’t changed any since she’d left almost ten years ago to go to college. Now that she’d used her credit card, within hours everyone in town would know she was back in Northern California. Give her a big city any day. There was no such thing as privacy in a small town.
She winked at him. “Thanks, cowboy, but I think I can manage.”
At least she could learn. With her budget and time limit, she had to become adept quickly to finish all the things that needed doing to her grandmother’s house.
Her house now.
She wanted get the place fixed up and put it on the market. She had to get back to L.A. before the school year started.
He tapped his forefinger on the box. “Do you have any experience with power tools?”
The cowboy had a polite earnestness about him she found appealing. The men she knew were so into their own image and being cool they would never show the kind of interest she saw on his handsome face.
She shrugged, amused that he would assume she couldn’t manage by herself because she was a woman. She was smart and could figure out how to do what needed to be done.
Julie glanced around at the men who had gathered to listen openly to their conversation, then gave them a smile.
“How hard can it be? You all know how to use them, don’t you?” she asked sweetly, then picked up the box and sauntered out onto Main Street.
Every pair of eyes watched her leave. As she disappeared from sight, Tony swore he heard a collective male sigh from inside the store.
Tony turned to Cliff. “Who is she?”
Cliff scratched his bald head, still staring at the now empty door. “Dunno.”
Tony reached over and pulled the credit slip out of Cliff’s fingers.
“Julie Kerns.” He read aloud.
“That was little Julie Kerns?” Mr. Dunn peered around Tony trying to see the slip of paper.
Tony turned to stare at the old man. “You know her?”
Mr. Dunn nodded. “She used to live here. Moved in with her grandma when she was a little girl after her folks died.”
“Where does her grandmother live?”
“Doesn’t. Her grandma was Bessie Morgan. Died about two months ago.”
Tony thought for a minute. The name was vaguely familiar. “The blue-and-white Queen Anne style house with the vines over by the church?”
Mr. Dunn nodded. “Yup. Heard Julie got the house. Must be moving in.”
Tony stored that bit of information away and left the store whistling.
He’d find a reason to go and pay the little lady a call and remind her how neighborly Ferndale could be.
Tony stood on the sidewalk in the hot noon sun and shifted the ladder on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. He contemplated the cottage belonging to the very enticing Julie Kerns.
Two things came to mind.
First, the house was a marvel of workmanship, with all the trim and special touches that went into a Queen Anne. Not as fussy as most Victorians, he’d always liked the design.
Second, the place needed a heck of a lot of work.
For starters, the top two wooden steps to the porch were rotten. He glanced up and noted the rain gutter had rusted through in several places. That explained the rot.
He leaned the new ladder she’d ordered against the side of his truck and hefted the five gallon cans of plastering compound and primer.
Skirting the rotten wood, he climbed the stairs and set the cans beside the front door. The doorbell, a round crank set in the wall, rang loud enough to be heard in the next block.
Within moments, he saw her through the beveled glass window set in the middle of the door. She wore baggy old jeans and a big shirt. He missed yesterday’s outfit.
Julie opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Hello, cowboy.”
He grinned at her and tipped his hat. “Afternoon, Miss Kerns.” He’d forgotten how pretty she was.
“Please, it’s Julie.” She didn’t seem surprised that he knew her name.
“I’m Tony. Tony Graham.”
She gave him that great smile of hers, then glanced down and spotted the cans. “Do you work at the hardware store?”
“No, ma’am. Just doing Cliff a favor. His wife took the truck to Redding to do some shopping.”
Tony hoisted the cans and she stood aside so he could enter. “Where do you want these?”
“Upstairs. But you can leave them right there.”
“I’ll take them up for you. Lead the way.”
He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.
She turned into one of the front bedrooms. He set the cans inside the door. She’d been busy. All the furniture had been pushed into the middle of the room and covered with a tarp.
Tony gave a low whistle when he looked up and saw the water damage to the ceiling and walls. Big chunks of plaster were missing. “Roof?”
She nodded. “Yes. Bessie hated to spend money and waited until the leak got really bad before she had it repaired.”
He nodded. Lots of people put off work, then ended up paying more. He didn’t understand their logic.
Dubious that a novice had a chance of doing a decent plaster job, Tony wandered over to a damaged wall and turned to eye the book she held. “You ever do any plaster repair?”
“Not yet.” She slapped the book she was holding closed and set it on top of the tarp, then put her hands on her hips.
She sure did look determined.
She studied him for so long he wanted to squirm. Then she squared her shoulder as if she had made a decision and asked, “Have you had lunch?”
It took him a moment to react. He didn’t expect the question. “No. I was just about to take a break.” His lunch was in his truck.
“Good. Have lunch with me.”
Tony was both surprised and pleased at her invitation. He had been trying to decide how to ask her out. Now they could get acquainted over a sandwich at the kitchen table.
“Sure. That would be great.”
“I have to warn you, I have an ulterior motive.”
Tony raised an eyebrow as a quick fantasy shot through his mind.
She tapped her book with a slender forefinger. “I want to pick your brain about plastering techniques.”
Oh, well, he thought, feeling a little deflated, at least she wanted to have lunch with him.
He followed her downstairs and instead of turning toward the back of the house where he assumed the kitchen would be, she went out the front door.
“We’re going out?”
Julie looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile. “My treat. I don’t cook.”
He wanted to ask her why not. Cooking was basic for existing as far as he was concerned. Did she eat all her meals out? It seemed a little too soon to ask. Some women got so prickly when a guy asked questions like that.
“Okay.” He wasn’t comfortable with her picking up the tab even if it was her idea, but they could discuss that when the time came.
Tony closed the front door behind him and walked with her a half block until they hit Main Street. They chatted about how the town had not changed at all in the years since she had left.
“Village Bakery okay with you?”
“Sure.” He’d eat the lunch in his truck for supper.
They found a table and gave the waitress their order.
Julie smiled at him and he went warm all over. What a beauty, with her streaked brown hair and blue-green eyes. He smiled back and noticed she had flecks of gold in her eyes that matched the streaks in her hair.
“Now, about plastering.”
He didn’t care why she had invited him to lunch. If she smiled at him like that she could have anything she wanted. “What do you need to know?”
She shrugged. “Everything.”
Tony laughed loudly enough that everyone in the bakery turned to look at the two of them.
“You sure you want to do this yourself? I’d be glad to help.” He could take some time off from building his house.
She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the table, then back up at him. “No, thanks. I’m going to do it myself, but I’m not above wangling a few tips. How did you learn to do plastering?”
“My dad and I built the house my folks live in now when I was a teenager. He was in construction before he started ranching.”
“Do your parents live around here?”
“No. Wyoming.”
“How did you come to live in Ferndale?”
He felt a quick stab of the familiar pain associated with the accident, Jimmy’s death, and how he had come to be where he was. “I inherited a piece of property just outside of town. I’m building my own place there now.”
The waitress set their sandwiches in front of them. He thanked her and between bites, steered the conversation back to plastering. He told Julie everything he could think of that would help her do the job.
She asked a few questions, then mentioned her grandmother again, commenting on all the stuff she still needed to clean out.
He eyed her curiously. “You called your grandmother by her first name?”
Her expressive blue-green eyes became shuttered for a moment, then she gave him a rueful smile. “Bessie never liked being called Grandma.”
Tony tucked that bit of information away to ponder later.
“You have a lot of work to do on the place before you move in.” He hadn’t missed the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint.
She laughed. “I’m moved in, but it’s temporary. As soon as I can get the placed fixed up, it goes on the market and I go home.”
“Where’s home?” He didn’t like the thought of her leaving Ferndale. He had plans to get to know her better.
A lot better.
“Los Angeles.”
He couldn’t think of a worse place to live. “Why?”
She raised a finely arched eyebrow. “Why what?”
“Why do you live there?” It must be for her job.
She laughed. “Because I like it. Why do you live in Ferndale?”
He grinned at her. “Because I like it.” Or at least he would when he could move into his own home.
“What do you do in L.A.?” He wondered what kind of job would keep her there.
“I teach high school. English.”
The waitress brought the bill and they both reached for it. “I invited you.” Julie jerked the slip of paper out of his hand.
“Half?” He didn’t let women buy him meals. It might be old-fashioned, but it didn’t set right.
“No. Then I’ll feel guilty for picking your brain the whole time we ate.”
Tony shrugged, then thought of a plan. “Okay. But only if you agree to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
Julie watched him for a minute. He sensed her hesitation, then she gave him another of her great smiles. “Deal.”
He watched her walk up to the counter to pay.
He’d never had a teacher who looked like Ms. Kerns. The boys in her classes probably had a hard time keeping their minds on the subject matter when she was standing in front of the class.
He stood up and pulled two bills out of his pocket for the tip. She saw him leave the money on the table and rolled her eyes.
They walked back to her house in companionable silence.
He glanced over at her. She could teach anywhere. Why would she choose to live in a big smelly city like Los Angeles? Maybe a guy kept her there. He didn’t like the thought.
“So you teach English. Fond of the classics?” He liked her hair. So many different shades of brown.
She shrugged. “I’m fond of all kinds of books.”
He had been, too, once. He had devoured books, losing himself for hours in them. Since the accident he had to struggle to read, and the frustration ruined the pleasure.
When they got to her place Tony unloaded the rest of her order and carried a ladder and bag of small hand tools upstairs. The banister was loose and needed bracing.
He found Julie leaning against a piece of covered furniture, holding her how-to book and frowning.
“You need me to stay?” He glanced over at the book she studied. Doing plaster work took some skill. Even with everything he’d told her he was skeptical that she could manage alone.
“Nope.” She glanced up from the page she studied and smiled. “Remember? I’m going to do it myself.”
He wondered why she was so stubborn about not having help. He’d be willing to take time off from working on his own house. He didn’t say anything. From the set of her shoulders and the jut of her chin it was obvious she was intent on tackling the job herself.
He’d give her the rest of the day to see how hard the job was, then come back and see if she’d changed her mind about his help.
He reached into the bag and pulled out the goggles and dust mask he had purchased and added to her order.
“Come over here.” Tony motioned to her.
When she hesitated, he said, “Just more friendly advice.”
She shrugged and moved to his side. Her hair smelled like lemons, and he fought the urge to lean closer and inhale.
He positioned her under the worst of the damage, liking the feel of her warm skin under her cotton shirt.
Reluctantly he let go of her and pointed to the ceiling. “Always wear these.” He held up the mask and goggles. “They’ll get in your way, but you’ll get used to them. Be sure to chip off all the stained plaster. Otherwise, the stain will bleed through your new paint.”
“Okay.” She glanced up to the ceiling and back to his face.
Tony handed over the safety equipment and wanted to reach for her, the urge to kiss her strong.
He pulled back. Whoa, way too soon for a move like that, he thought. Instead he stepped away and opened the ladder, positioning it under a gaping hole in the ceiling. “Good luck.”
As he turned to leave, she said, “’Bye, Tony. And thanks.”
“Anytime. Thanks for lunch.” He gave her a smile before he started down the stairs.
Julie watched him go, then glanced down at the goggles and mask dangling from her fingers. His concern about her safety touched her.
She ran a finger over the ridges in the blue mask. The handsome man had some kind of problem with speech comprehension and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She’d noticed how he’d watched her face intently as she spoke, and then there would be a bit of lag time before he replied. She didn’t think he was deaf, but perhaps she was wrong and he was reading lips.
Curiosity got the better of her and she went out to the upstairs landing and leaned over the rail just as he opened the front door.
“Tony?” She kept her voice very quiet.
He turned immediately. “Yes?”
Well, his hearing was fine. She groped for something to say. “Ah, if you see Cliff, tell him thanks for the delivery.”
He tipped his hat. “Sure thing. Be careful not to lean on that banister. It’s loose.” He closed the door behind him.
She knew the railing was loose. She just hadn’t gotten to that chapter in her fix-it book yet.
She glanced around the upstairs landing. How hard could it be? She had the tools and the how-to book. If she sold the place as a fixer-upper she would get a lot less for it, and she needed the money.
Her dream was to take time off teaching to write. She had ideas for several children’s books, but she needed the time. Teaching seemed to drain away her creativity.
She’d sublet her apartment at the beach for the summer and planned to spend her vacation repairing plaster and painting. Then she’d put the house up for sale and go back to Los Angeles in time to start teaching. When the house sold, she’d take a leave of absence to write.
Julie walked back into the bedroom. She’d checked recent sale prices of Victorians in Ferndale. She figured she could take next year, maybe even the next two, off if she moved away from the beach and into a cheaper apartment.
There were a few pieces of her grandmother’s furniture she’d like to keep, but the rest she could offer with the house. She made a mental note to talk to the people who ran the Foggy Bottom Antiques Store and Cream City Antiques. They might be willing to take some of it on consignment.
Her mind wandered back to Tony. Why had she agreed to dinner tomorrow night? She didn’t plan to get involved. She’d ended her on-again-off-again relationship with Alan before she left L.A. He had indicated he wanted to get more serious, and she wasn’t interested in a commitment.
Julie rummaged through the bag from the hardware store and laid out the tools recommended in the book. In L.A. she wouldn’t think of going out with someone she didn’t know. But here in Ferndale nobody was really a stranger.
She turned her attention back to work and did a quick scan of the section on repairing plaster. She climbed the ladder to get to the damaged wall, then donned the mask and goggles. Within minutes of chipping away at the plaster dust covered her hair and sifted into her bra.
She sneezed and a cloud of fine white powder drifted down.
Why would anyone choose to do this kind of work? She thought of Tony as she wiped at her face with her sleeve, then climbed back down the ladder to tuck a rag in the waistband of her jeans.
She flipped on the portable compact disk player and with Jimmy Buffett wailing about cheeseburgers in paradise, she went back to work.
By midafternoon her arms ached. Even though she had worn the goggles, she had to use saline drops to get the dust out of her eyes. But she’d made good progress. All the old plaster was down. Tomorrow she would start patching. Her arms were too sore to start today.
Julie took a shower and washed the plaster out of her hair. Then she fixed herself a snack and contemplated what she would do with the rest of the afternoon.
The closets. Bessie had a lifetime of stuff stored on the shelves and in the cupboards. Julie felt like an intruder going through her grandmother’s belongings, but it had to be done.
The woman had never shared anything personal with Julie, and would probably be horrified that someone was poking through her things, but Julie couldn’t get rid of them without sorting them.
Reluctantly she trudged back up the stairs and started in the room where she had slept as a teenager.
She slipped off her shoes and used the chair from the dressing table to reach the shelves in the closet. There were boxes of hats and gloves that must have dated back to the forties. Bessie had worn a hat to church every Sunday.
Julie wondered if they would be worth anything at a vintage clothing store. She knew of a good one in L.A. she could call, she thought as she piled them in a corner of the room.
After she finished the closet, she opened the cupboards above the closet. Large boxes marked Bedding were stacked to the top of the space. Had her grandmother saved old bedding as well as old clothes?
Julie reached as high as she could and tugged at the top box. It seemed to be caught on the box below. She should go get the ladder, but she was tired and the thought of getting down to get the darned thing was too much work.
She gave the box a yank and it slid toward her. The cardboard came apart in her hands and a waterfall of huge leather-bound books tumbled down on her, knocking her from the chair.
As she hit the floor beside the bed she heard a sound that reminded her of a dry twig breaking.
She lay up against the bed, stunned. The books were ledgers from the insurance business her grandfather had run in Ferndale for years.
Furious with herself for being so stupid, she struggled to sit up. It hurt to move her right arm and she had a gash on the inside of her left elbow that was starting to bleed freely. Her legs felt okay, so she struggled to her feet and grabbed a towel from the bathroom to hold against the cut.
She got as far as the top of the stairs when she started to feel dizzy, so she lowered herself to the top step and leaned against the wall. She needed a moment to think about what she’d do next.
Tony skirted the rotten boards on Julie’s steps and paused at the front door. He glanced down at the plaster finishing tool he held in his hand. His offer of help so soon after she had turned him down twice might make her mad, but getting a smooth finish to match the rest of the room was tricky, and he wanted to help her out.
He turned the crank on the old doorbell.
“Come in.”
He heard her faintly through the heavy door. He stepped into the dim foyer and glanced up the stairs to find her sitting on the top step. She’d washed her hair and changed clothes.
He smiled. “Wear yourself out?”
“Something like that,” she said, her voice flat and low.
She was mad at him and he hadn’t even offered his help yet. She’d undoubtedly spotted the trowel in his hand.
But then he realized as he looked up at her something was wrong. She was leaning against the wall as if she needed the support. Her face was pale and drawn.
He dropped the trowel and took the stairs two at a time, flipped on the light switch and crouched down on the step below her.
“You showed up at just the right time,” she said, an edge of pain in her voice.
He could see her struggle not to cry and it tore him up inside. “What happened?” He didn’t want to touch her until she told him where she hurt.
“I was cleaning out a cupboard and pulled a box of books down on my head.”
“Did you fall?” He cupped her face gently in his palms and studied the bruise blooming on her cheek.
“Yes,” she said with a catch in her voice.
He dropped his hands from her face. “Off the ladder?”
She shook her head. “I was standing on a chair.”
“Did you black out?” This was not the time to tell her how foolish she had been. Besides he could tell by her voice she had already told herself the same thing.
“No. I remember every last detail.” She attempted a laugh but it came out as a little sob.
Tony didn’t want her to fall apart so he patted her briskly on the knee and said, “You’re doing fine.”
Julie nodded and seemed to pull herself together.
“Tell me what else hurts besides your cheek.”
“It hurts when I move my arm.”
She had a dark green towel in her lap. She’d been cradling her right arm with her left hand. “Okay. What part of your arm?”
“My shoulder.”
She had on an oversize blue shirt. “I need to unbutton your blouse, okay?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Is that the best line you have, cowboy?” she asked with a little hitch in her voice.
He returned the smile, relieved she still had her sassy sense of humor. “It’ll have to do for now.”
He unbuttoned her shirt and gently eased the fabric off her shoulder, trying to ignore the electric-blue lacy bra strap.
He ran his fingers lightly along her clavicle, stopping at a big lumpy spot. There was no doubt the bone was fractured. Swelling and discoloration had already begun.
Carefully he pulled the shirt back in place and buttoned her up. “You broke your collarbone.”
“I was afraid of that. I heard a snapping sound when I hit the floor.”
“What else?”
“I have a cut on my elbow. I think I landed on the corner of the bed frame.” She glanced down at her left arm.
He needed some space. She was leaning with her left arm against the wall. “I’m going to help you up and we’re going down into the kitchen so I can get a good look at your arm.”
“Okay.”
“Can you walk?” He couldn’t carry her without hurting her and he needed to assess her overall condition.
Her chin came up. “Yes.”
He stood up and backed down a step to give her the room to stand. She braced herself against the wall and swayed a bit.
“Dizzy?’ He grabbed her hips to steady her, braced to catch her if she fainted.
“A little.”
There was no color in her face and her skin looked clammy.
“I’m going to get beside you.” Tony stepped up to the same stair she was on and reached under the back of her shirt, grasping a handful of the waistband of her pants.
“Just take it slow.”
She nodded and started down the steep stairs, wincing as each step jarred her arm.
He guided her to a kitchen chair and she lowered herself gingerly. He knelt on the floor beside her and pulled the towel away from her arm. A jagged gash about three inches long lay across the elbow joint along the inside of her arm. The towel was so dark he hadn’t noticed the blood.
He went blank for a moment and then pulled himself together. On missions he’d acted purely on his training. It was different with Julie. She shook him up.
Tony pulled himself together and said, “It’s still bleeding. I need to put some pressure on it. Where are the clean towels?”
“The drawer next to the sink.”
He found a stack of white dish towels and made a thick pad with one, pressed it against the cut, then wrapped it tightly with a second towel.
He slid into the chair next to her. “Okay, that should hold you until we can get it stitched up.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a long look. “You want to do it? My grandmother’s sewing box is in the living room.”
He shook his head, knowing she was kidding. He had put stitches in before, but that was when there were no medics around. Her beautiful smooth skin deserved more of an expert than he was.
She stared at him. “Where did you learn to do all this?”
“Navy. I went through some medical training.” He helped her to her feet, grabbing hold of her waistband again. The skin on her lower back was smooth and warm. He wondered if her panties matched her bra. He had always been a sucker for those lingerie ads.
He shook his head, disgusted with his thoughts. He must be more hung up on her than he’d thought to be considering jumping her bones on the way to the hospital. “Next stop, Redwood City emergency room.”
Since the accident and Jimmy’s death he’d been numb, unable to feel any real emotion, but taking care of her this afternoon had changed that.
He wasn’t sure he was ready.
She twisted until she could get up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
The sisterly kiss sent a zing through his system. “No problem,” he said and led her out to his truck, knowing his comment was probably the biggest lie he had ever told.
His instincts had always been good. This woman could cause him plenty of problems, the kind he had never dealt with before.
The kind that involved his heart.
Chapter Two
Exhausted and fighting tears, Julie stood on the sidewalk beside Tony and contemplated the steps leading to her front door.
They reminded her of Mount Everest.
He had a firm grip on the upper part of her left arm. At least he was no longer hauling her around by the back of her pants.
“Thank you. For everything.” She tried to pull away from his big warm hand. She wanted to get in the house before she fell apart. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him.
Tony didn’t let go. “Let’s get you in the house.”
She looked up at the dark windows. “Thanks, but I’ve taken enough of your time.”
He ignored her and urged her up the stairs. “I’ll help you get settled.”
She didn’t want to be rude after he had rescued her, but she needed to be alone. She never let anyone see her cry.
Through the haze of medication that didn’t quite block the pain, she was beginning to realize she wouldn’t be able to work on the house for quite a while. The doctor had trussed her up like a Thanksgiving turkey, with her arm in a sling strapped to her chest to immobilize her broken collarbone.
She couldn’t finish fixing up the house on her summer vacation.
The utter frustration of her situation overwhelmed her and she groaned. At least her anger at herself helped overcome the urge to cry.
Tony dipped down until his face was level with hers. “Julie? What’s wrong?”
If she’d had a good hand, she would have smacked him. What wasn’t wrong?
She shook her head. This experience had turned her into a shrew. “Let’s just get in the house.”
Tony opened the door, flipped on the light in the foyer and led her across the threshold.
She needed to get him out of the house. She just wanted to go to bed and wallow in misery for a while. Tomorrow she’d think about what she was going to do.
“I really appreciate everything you’ve done. I’d like to pay you for your time.”
He looked amazed at her comment, then his mouth thinned into a grim line. “Pay me? You’re not in L.A., lady. Folks in small towns help each other.”
His angry attitude took her by surprise. She didn’t need to be reminded she wasn’t in L.A. Stiffly she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
She just wanted him out of the house so she could fall apart. “I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“My time isn’t your problem. Come on, I told you I’m staying until you’re settled.” Gently, his touch a contrast to his voice, he grasped her arm and started toward the stairs.
Immediately she stiffened up, anger catching up with distress. Getting rid of him was starting to look as tough as getting gum off the bottom of a shoe. Digging in her heels, she decided to be direct. Hinting hadn’t worked. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stay.”
Tony dropped her arm and studied her for a moment. “So, you’re fine, huh?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“How are you going to get undressed?”
Julie hadn’t thought about that. Her chin came up. “I’ll manage.”
He took off his hat and tossed it onto the knob on top of the banister. “How are you going to get your bra off?”
Good question, she thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. How was she going to get undressed? One arm was strapped to her chest and she couldn’t bend the other at the elbow because of the stitches.
He threw her a smug look that irritated her. “Do you have any female friends in town?”
She hadn’t made close friends except for Lynn, and she lived in New York now. When she’d been sent to live with her grandmother after her parents died, she’d resented being yanked from her home and friends in L.A. and been pretty much of a loner all through high school.
The only person who came to mind was Betty, Lynn’s mother. She’d heard Betty was off visiting her son in New Mexico.
“No.” Darn him. At least now she was so angry she no longer felt like crying.
“Come on,” he said briskly, urging her up the stairs. “Things are going to look much better when you get a little sleep.”
Julie didn’t think she had ever met a guy who seemed to relish being in control the way Tony did. It rankled. She was used to taking care of herself.
Most of the time.
A little voice in her head reminded her she wasn’t doing such a good job.
Her collarbone ached and her stitches burned. Lacking the energy to fight him any longer, she gave in and let him lead her into her old bedroom.
The chair lay there on its side, surrounded by the ledgers.
“What do you sleep in?” he asked matter-of-factly, ignoring the mess.
“There’s a nightshirt in the top dresser drawer.”
He left her side to rummage through the drawer and came up with a pink flannel nightshirt with the words Uppity Woman scrawled across the front in red. “This?”
She nodded and he laid the shirt over his arm and came back to stand in front of her. With sure fingers he unbuckled the strap around her middle that held the sling close to her body.
“I’m going to take the sling off. I need you to do nothing. Concentrate on keeping your arm perfectly still, okay?”
Julie nodded. That shouldn’t be hard. It hurt when she moved even a little.
He slipped the sling off. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.” For all his muscles he had a gentle touch.
“Now I’m going to unbutton your shirt.” His big hands were quick with the buttons.
For the second time today he had his hands inside her blouse, she thought. It was getting to be a habit.
He slid the shirt off her left shoulder and eased it over her left arm, past the wide elastic bandage covering her stitches.
“Now, let me do all the work here. You just think about holding still.” He slid the shirt off her right shoulder and eased it down her arm.
She sighed when he had it off. He had such warm, careful hands. Slick as a whistle, he hadn’t hurt her at all. She glanced down to see her nipples puckering through the blue satin of her bra. She wanted to be as cool about this as he was, but her body wasn’t cooperating.
Keeping his eyes on her face as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at all the skin he’d just uncovered he said, “Turn around.”
His voice sounded low and husky.
He wasn’t quite as detached after undressing her as he’d like her to believe. Good, because she wasn’t detached at all. Obediently she turned.
He stood so close behind her she could feel the heat of his body on her bare back.
He unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders, over her elbows and her hands, then dropped it like it was a poisonous snake.
Her heart thudded in her chest. What was wrong with her? She barely knew the man and she wanted to feel his hands on her.
It must be the pain medication.
“You’re doing fine.” His breath feathered the hair behind her ear.
She shivered.
“Cold?” He reached around her from behind to slide her right arm into the sleeve. The back of his hand grazed her bare breast.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll be covered up in just a minute.”
She was anything but cold. He brought the shirt behind her back and gently eased the fabric over her stiff elbow.
“Okay, turn around.” Hands on her shoulders again, he turned her toward him.
She looked up into his face as he did up her buttons and had the oddest sensation of being a desirable woman and a cared-for child all in the same moment.
He eased her into the sling and strapped her up, then stepped back. “There. All set.” He was back to his matter-of-fact tone again.
She kicked off her shoes. Julie wanted to hear the husky desire in his voice she’d heard before.
A little devil in her made her say, “Help me with my jeans?” Besides, she thought, how was she going to get the snug denim off without help?
She could see beads of sweat on his upper lip just before he leaned over and fumbled under her nightshirt for the fastener on her pants. His position gave her a great view of his hair, thick, dark and slightly wavy.
He eased the zipper down, hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the denim over her hips. She could feel the trail of heat down her body left by the touch of his hands.
He backed up and heaved a sigh as she stepped out of her pants.
“Anything else?” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest as if he was in pain.
Julie looked down at her bare toes, hiding a smile. Just one more thing before she let him off the hook. “Ah, my, ah…panties.”
She glanced up at him and swore she saw his eyes cross for an instant. It was all she could do not to smirk.
“Sure.” His voice was gruff. He reached up and hooked his work-roughened fingers over the elastic and slid the satin down her legs.
Satisfied he had been punished enough for being so controlling, she kicked the panties over with her jeans. “Thanks.”
He skirted around her as if she was on fire and pulled the covers down on the bed. “Get in. I’ll go get you a glass of water.”
He pulled her prescription of pain pills out of his shirt pocket and smacked the bottle down on the bedside table before he left the room.
Awkwardly Julie scooted under the covers. She lay back against the pillows and thought about what she’d just done. It was petty to harass Tony like that, but people who thought they knew best annoyed her. Plus, she was so angry at herself for fouling up all her summer plans she’d taken out her anger on him.
She supposed she needed to apologize, but she didn’t know how to do that without embarrassing both of them.
One more thing she would have to deal with in the morning, she thought as her eyes slid closed.
Tony came back with a glass of water and found Julie had fallen asleep. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders, turned out the overhead light and switched on a small lamp on the dresser across the room.
He wasn’t going to wake her up to give her a pill to make her sleep.
He didn’t want her awake.
Getting her undressed had been harder than most of the missions he’d been on for the Navy.
He picked up the scattered ledgers and righted the chair. Then he draped her jeans and shirt over the chair, along with the blue bra and matching panties. Her clothes were still warm and smelled like her. With a groan he settled into an overstuffed chair and watched her sleep. She looked so young and innocent lying there.
Hah, he thought. About as innocent as Eve when she teamed up with the serpent in the Garden of Eden.
And he wanted a bite of the apple.
The woman knew just what caliber ammunition she carried. She thought it was safe to mess with his head because she’d been injured.
She was right.
There was time, and Tony was a patient man. She needed him because she wouldn’t be able to work on this place for weeks. By the time he had the house in shape and Julie had mended, he planned to show her what happened when you played with fire.
Tony dozed off with a smile on his face.
Chapter Three
Julie woke after a restless night. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Groaning, she tried to lift her hand to rub her gritty eyes, but she’d forgotten her arm was strapped to her waist. She tried her other arm and found her elbow so stiff from the stitches she couldn’t reach up.
She closed her eyes and fought back frustration, furious with herself for being so clumsy. Her plans to get the house fixed up to sell during her vacation would be on hold for at least a few weeks, if not longer.
Her wonderful timetable was ruined, her dreams on hold.
A tear leaked out from under her lids. She was about to give herself a talking to for being such a weakling when she heard her bedroom door creak.
Before she had time to be frightened, Tony stuck his head in the room.
He grinned, managing to look bashful and incredibly handsome at the same time.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
Quickly she turned her head and wiped her eyes on the pillow case. No way was she going to let him catch her crying like some wimpy little female. He walked in and brought the smell of fresh coffee with him as he handed her a steaming mug.
“Ah,” she closed her eyes and drank in the aroma. “You stopped for coffee. Thanks.”
She sat up and used her feet to scoot herself against the headboard.
She frowned as she noticed the coffee was in a mug from her grandmother’s kitchen.
“Where did you get the coffee?”
He grinned at her again. “Out of the coffeepot.”
Besides being extremely good-looking, the man had a killer grin. She wished he would stop using it. It ruined her train of thought.
Julie guided her thoughts back to the conversation. “I have a coffeepot?”
Tony nodded. “In the cupboard above the sink.”
She really hadn’t paid much attention to the kitchen. “And ground coffee?” Her grandmother had been a tea drinker as far as she remembered.
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I did have to go to Valley Grocery for that.”
Julie peered at the travel alarm clock beside the bed. “How long have you been here?”
“All night.”
Oh, swell, she thought, noticing for the first time he had the same clothes on he’d worn yesterday.
That would give the town gossips something to chew on.
She’d known him less than two days and he stays over. “I thought we agreed you were leaving,” she snapped.
Tony didn’t look the least bit upset at her annoyed tone. “I told you I was staying. You might have needed something in the middle of the night.”
Vaguely Julie recalled Tony coming to check on her, but she’d been so groggy from the pain pills she had no idea what time it might have been. And since when did she care what the neighbors might think?
She realized she liked knowing he’d been there and it made her temper rise. She hadn’t expected him to stay and she didn’t want to impose. She could take care of herself.
“Well, thanks,” she said grudgingly. “That was nice of you. But I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
“No problem. It’s raining and I can’t work on my house today.”
She glanced out the window and noticed the storm for the first time. “Don’t you have a regular job?”
“No. I’m building a house on my land.”
She wanted to ask how he managed that without regular employment, but didn’t know how to do it without sounding like she was prying.
Tony raised an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth turned up in a sly little smile. “Need help getting dressed?”
Obviously he’d recovered his composure after the teasing she’d given him last night. It was her turn to blush. “Ah, I think I can manage.”
“The doctor said you can leave the sling off during the day. You just have to be careful.”
Good thing, she thought. There was no way to get out of the nightshirt trussed up the way she was.
He turned and headed out her bedroom door. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. Give me a yell if you need help.”
Julie sipped on the coffee and pondered her options. She could drive back to L.A. or stay here until she healed. Then she remembered her apartment had been sublet for the summer and her car had a stick shift. No way could she make the twelve-hour drive home even if she did have a place to live.
Okay, she would stay here in Ferndale. She scooted to the side of the mattress and wiggled around until she got her feet on the floor.
There had to be things she could do to the house one-handed, so the next few weeks wouldn’t be a total loss. Julie finished the coffee, feeling better now that she had the start of a plan in her mind.
She struggled out of the sling and awkwardly managed to get into a pair of panties and sweats. A bra was out of the question, and so apparently, was brushing her hair and putting on socks. She could ask Tony’s help with the socks, and even her hair, but she would have to go braless. There was no way she’d ask him for help with that.
Remembering the way she had acted last night brought a blush to her face. She must have been out of her mind to tease him like that. She barely knew him. Maybe she could blame her behavior on the pain medication she’d taken on the way home.
She made her way downstairs and found Tony sitting in the kitchen, slicing into a coffee cake.
She inhaled the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg, her mouth watering. “Tell me you did not bake that this morning.”
He laughed. “No. Mrs. Smithy dropped it off.”
Julie didn’t recognize the name. “Why?” Why would someone bring Tony a freshly baked coffee cake at her house?
He slipped a wedge of cake onto a plate and pushed it across the table towards her. “Because she heard you had been hurt in an accident.
Julie searched her memory. “I don’t even know who she is.”
“I think she knew your grandmother. Besides, this is a small town. Folks do nice things for each other in small towns.”
He’d made it very clear yesterday that he thought small towns were highly preferable to large cities. He saw this gift of food as a good thing.
Julie frowned, looking down at the plate. She viewed it as an intrusion into her privacy. By now everyone in town probably knew that she had been clumsy enough to fall off a chair.
The coffee cake smelled so good she decided not to let the reason it was in the middle of the kitchen table get in her way of enjoying it. She set her socks, brush and a rubber band down on the chair beside her and settled in to savor some home baking. Awkwardly she forked up a mouthful.
Tony watched her uncoordinated movements and nodded in approval. “The more you use that arm the less stiff you’ll be.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you, Dr. Tony.”
He cut a huge piece of cake for himself and sat across the table from her. After he had demolished half his piece of cake he paused and cleared his throat.
Julie glanced up, waiting. Obviously he was working his way up to saying something.
Finally he said, “Julie, I know you wanted to do all the work on this house yourself, but you aren’t going to be able to manage for a while. Why don’t you hire me? I could use the money.”
She was tempted. By hiring him she could get done even sooner that she had first planned and get back to L.A. Even if she hadn’t broken her collarbone she had no illusions that she could do the work as well or as fast as someone with experience and skill.
Hiring him would solve part of her problem, but there was a hitch. She hated to admit it, but her plan to do over the house herself was based on a lack of cash.
He had made a nice offer and he deserved an explanation, even though she didn’t want to give him so much personal information.
“I can’t afford to pay you and buy materials and supplies. I get paid ten months a year. I’m really strapped for cash.”
Tony shrugged one muscular shoulder. “No problem. Pay me when you close escrow. I’m saving money for stock.”
“Stock? You play the market?” She couldn’t picture him buying and selling, gambling on the stock market. He was too…steady.
He looked puzzled for a minute, then he laughed. “No. Stock as in horses.”
“Oh.” She felt silly. Hadn’t she nicknamed him cowboy? Of course he meant horses.
“When I get my house built, I’ll start on the barn and corrals. I’m going to raise and train horses.”
Julie studied him for a moment. Horse rancher. It fit. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Sure.” He stood up and scooped up her plate and his, carrying them to the sink. She watched him walk across the kitchen, admiring the fit of his worn jeans. The man did have one fine body.
He finished rinsing the plates and she quickly looked down at her folded hands as he turned toward her.
Tony stopped beside her chair. “I have to go check on Mrs. Trimball’s place, then I’ll be back.”
Betty Trimball, the minister’s widow and the only person in Ferndale she could call a friend, lived three blocks away.
She scooted her chair back across the worn linoleum. “When does Betty get back?” Julie wanted to see her again. There were very few people she felt that way about.
“A couple more weeks.” Tony squatted down beside her chair, took hold of her ankle and propped it on his thigh. He drew her sock onto her foot, and repeated the motion as he put on her other sock. The feel of his big square competent hands on her skin sent shivers up her legs.
In one fluid motion he stood up and picked up her brush. He drew the bristles through her hair in steady, firm strokes. Between the warmth of him at her back and the feel of the brush against her scalp, she had to brace herself to keep from sliding out of the chair.
She noticed he was very careful to be gentle over the lump on the side of her head where she had smacked her skull against the floor.
Where had he learned to deal with long hair? she wondered. An unexpected stab of jealousy spiked through her. Why did she even care?
“Ponytail?”
“What?” She tried to get her thoughts back to what he had asked.
“Do you want your hair in a ponytail, or down?”
She almost asked him how he wanted it. Stupid. Why should she care what he preferred?
“Ponytail.” She picked the elastic band off the chair beside her and held it up as far as her stiff elbow would allow.
She felt him twist the rubber band around her hair, and then he handed her the brush.
He still had a hold of her hair and he gave it a teasing little tug. “I’ll stop by before I head home to see if you need anything.”
No one had cared enough to ask her if she needed anything for a very long time. The tears that had snuck up on her earlier threatened to return. It had to be the pain medication. She blinked them back and stood, turning to face him.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugged and dipped his head in an endearing little boy kind of way. “No problem. See you later.”
He was out the back door and into the summer rain, leaving her feeling that her thank you had been inadequate considering all he had done for her in the past twenty-four hours.
Julie settled back in her chair and pondered what she should do. If she hired Tony she could get the work done by the time she had to go back to L.A. That way the house would be on the market. If she waited to do the work herself, she would probably have to make at least a few extra trips back up to Ferndale. She wouldn’t be able to put the place on the market until late fall, if that soon. With the price of gas and wear and tear on her car for extra trips, it made sense to hire Tony.
The thought made her feel uneasy. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him to do a good job. After all, wasn’t he building a house all by himself? It was just that she had planned to do it alone. Be her own boss, make her own decisions.
She had already seen him in action. He liked to be in control of a situation.
She began to argue with herself. She would still be in charge. She could help him out as he worked. That would speed things up. He had the skill and expertise, and she could learn from him.
She sat for a long time as her fingers fiddled with the bristles of her brush. Money and control weren’t the only problems, she thought.
She was attracted to him.
Very attracted.
If she hired him to work, they shouldn’t start a relationship that had nowhere to go anyway. He had made it clear he liked small town living, and in a matter of weeks she would head back to her life in Los Angeles.
She stood up and gingerly stretched her sore muscles, then headed upstairs, her thoughts still swirling. So the real question was, could she work with him and maintain her distance? Just be friends?
Of course she could.
She’d been around plenty of good-looking men. Even had a few who were friends. She laughed at herself. Was she turning her rescuer into some kind of irresistible knight on a white horse?
He was just a guy.
She set her brush down on the dresser and surveyed the damaged ceiling that she’d stripped yesterday. Just the thought of lifting her arms over her head to apply the plaster made her wince.
Julie made her decision. If she and Tony could come to reasonable terms, the ceiling would be their first project.
The sound of the front doorbell interrupted her thoughts. She headed down the stairs. A middle-aged woman stood on the porch holding a dish covered with foil. Julie thought she looked vaguely familiar but it was hard to tell through the wavy old oval glass window in the door.
She opened the door and the woman smiled. “Julie, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Jane Arnold.”
As soon as she spoke, Julie remembered. Jane Arnold had been one of the adults who led the youth group at the church. “Of course I remember.” Almost, she thought.
Mrs. Arnold held out a covered casserole. “I heard what happened. I made you some chicken.”
Of course. Hadn’t she predicted that the whole town would know? Julie remembered her manners. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you, dear, but I’m on my way to an appointment. Let me just put this in the refrigerator for you.”
Julie followed her to the kitchen and then back to the front door, feeling awkward over the woman’s show of concern. At Mrs. Arnold’s insistence, Julie promised to call if she needed anything.
By the time Tony returned hours later Julie had gotten tired of running up and down the stairs to answer the door and had planted herself in the front room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, giving her a quick once-over.
His question vaguely annoyed her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking on the role of her guardian.
“Tired, but otherwise pretty good.” Actually, answering the door had worn her out.
“Take any more pain pills?”
“No.” She was trying to avoid them. They made her stupid, and if she was going to be around Tony she needed to stay smart.
“Hungry?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“I’ll go get some groceries.” He started to turn toward the front door.
Julie grimaced. “Not necessary.”
She motioned to him to follow her to the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. There were five casseroles inside. “I will be eating tuna and noodles and chicken and rice for the next week.”
Tony surveyed her newly filled refrigerator and shook his head. “Looks like a church potluck on Saturday night.”
“Yeah,” Julie remarked sourly. “People just couldn’t wait to come and see Julie, all grown up and clumsy.”
Tony shot her a startled look, but didn’t say anything. He started touching the sides of the casserole dishes, then lifted the foil on the corner of one on the second shelf. “This one is still fairly warm. Want to start with it?”
Why was he being so nice? He couldn’t like tuna and noodles that much. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do?”
“What, and miss a free lunch? No, ma’am.” He grinned and pulled the glass dish out of the fridge.
Julie settled down onto one of the chairs and watched him scoop a huge amount of casserole onto a plate. When he started to fill the other plate she said, “Whoa, cowboy. I need less than half of that.”
He carried the plates to the table, found some silverware, and sat down. Julie watched, fascinated as he methodically and quickly cleaned his plate.
“Do you always eat that much?”
He shrugged. “Usually. I stay pretty busy during the day.”
She shoved the food around her plate. “Speaking of that, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I’m going to need some help, but I want to make sure you have the time. I mean, that you’re not going to regret your offer.”
He studied her face. “I wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t want to do it.”
She felt herself warm under his direct gaze. “Well, I just wanted to be sure.”
“I do need to keep working on my place, so how about I come in three days a week? We’ll see how it goes.” Tony stood up and carried the dishes to the sink.
“Okay. How long does it take you to get here from where you live?”
“If there’s no fog and the road isn’t washed out, about an hour and a half.”
That was worse than the commute times in L.A. “You’re kidding? You live that far out?”
“Have you been down Petrolia Road to the Lost Coast?”
She’d heard of it. “No. My grandmother never allowed me to go. She thought that’s where kids went to drink and get into trouble.” Besides, she’d been such a loner in high school she’d only been invited once.
Tony grinned at her. “She was right. I’ve chased kids off my property on occasion.”
He came around and helped her as she scooted back out of her chair. “Why don’t we take a look at what needs doing.”
Stiffly she got to her feet and stretched to get some of the kinks out. “Well, you’ve already seen the ceiling upstairs.”
“You did a nice job of cleaning it up.”
“Thanks.” She felt a glow of appreciation at his approval.
They wandered through the downstairs rooms, Julie pointing out what she wanted to do, as Tony nodded and added suggestions.
By the time they went upstairs into the room where she slept they’d settled on an hourly wage and Julie had a good idea of how long things would take. She felt better about her decision to hire Tony.
He was so businesslike she felt foolish thinking they would have problems working together.
She wandered over and looked out the window at the backyard, wondering if she should just forget the outside until later. The yard was a mess. Dead bushes and scrubby patches of grass filled the yard, along with the ugly supports for a clothesline that looked like two giant croquet wickets made out of thick galvanized pipe.
If she did any work on the yard now she’d just have to keep it up until the house sold. The yard could wait until the house was finished.
This plan was going to work, she thought as she gazed down on the dead grass and scraggly shrubs. Tony was friendly but businesslike, they agreed on what needed to be done, and paying him when the house sold fit into her tight budget.
Her worries over them having a personal relationship that got in the way of their business had been silly thinking.
Julie turned to mention the yard to him and came up against a very firm male body. She hadn’t heard him step behind her.
She lurched back in surprise and lost her balance. He reached out and grasped her around the waist to steady her. She smelled soap on his skin.
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Jill Limber
THE RANCHER…A man would have to be blind not to notice pretty, sophisticated Julie Kerns, Ferndale's newest arrival. And good-looking Tony Graham was far from visually impaired. But when the fiercely independent beauty needed him to renovate her grandmother's old Victorian, he couldn't stop the unsettling images of them living together in the house–as a family.AND THE CITY SLICKERReturn to Ferndale? Never! Julie envisioned herself among the bright lights and bustle of L.A. forever. Yet she found herself a reluctant homeowner in the tiny town of bad childhood memories. Could the sexy, small-town cowboy make her see there was joy to be found in country life…with him in the picture?
Boy, they sure didn’t grow them like this in Los Angeles.
From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall, gorgeous hunk of man.
Julie flashed him her best smile and tried to focus on what he was saying. “You could help me with what?”
She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who’d be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.
He took off his hat and ran a hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair. “Handling the sander, ma’am.”
Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?
She hoped not….
Dear Reader,
We’ve been busy here at Silhouette Romance cooking up the next batch of tender, emotion-filled romances to add extra sizzle to your day.
First on the menu is Laurey Bright’s modern-day Sleeping Beauty story, With His Kiss (#1660). Next, Melissa McClone whips up a sensuous, Survivor-like tale when total opposites must survive two weeks on an island, in The Wedding Adventure (#1661). Then bite into the next juicy SOULMATES series addition, The Knight’s Kiss (#1663) by Nicole Burnham, about a cursed knight and the modern-day princess who has the power to unlock his hardened heart.
We hope you have room for more, because we have three other treats in store for you. First, popular Silhouette Romance author Susan Meier turns on the heat in The Nanny Solution (#1662), the third in her DAYCARE DADS miniseries about single fathers who learn the ABCs of love. Then, in Jill Limber’s Captivating a Cowboy (#1664), are a city girl and a dyed-in-the-wool cowboy a recipe for disaster…or romance? Finally, Lissa Manley dishes out the laughs with The Bachelor Chronicles (#1665), in which a sassy journalist is assigned to get the city’s most eligible—and stubborn—bachelor to go on a blind date!
I guarantee these heartwarming stories will keep you satisfied until next month when we serve up our list of great summer reads.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Captivating a Cowboy
Jill Limber
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Kathy—best buddy and cosmic sister. This one’s for you!
Acknowledgments:
Many thanks to James Weippert—for letting me pick his brain and for his service to his country as a Navy SEAL. Thanks to Dr. Dick O’Connor and Dr. Ernie Tucker for all things medical, along with friendship. Special thanks to Bryn Willson for her wonderful poetry.
Books by Jill Limber
Silhouette Romance
The 15 lb. Matchmaker #1593
Captivating a Cowboy #1664
JILL LIMBER
lives in San Diego with her husband. Now that her children are grown, their two dogs keep her company while she sits at her computer writing stories. A native Californian, she enjoys the beach, loves to swim in the ocean, and for relaxation she daydreams and reads romances. You can learn more about Jill by visiting her Web site at http://www.JillLimber.com (http://www.JillLimber.com).
Contents
Chapter One (#u6f31322a-72da-5aad-a800-5549e8c942ff)
Chapter Two (#ub218b208-2a29-5760-a62c-de5d8c8b48d4)
Chapter Three (#ud233d2bc-150d-5f4d-a08f-d57d724ae4c8)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Tony saw her the instant she walked into the hardware store. He paused in the aisle and studied the fine piece of eye candy that had sauntered in off the street, putting every fiber of his male being on alert. Her long ponytail twitched over bared shoulders. Snug shorts dipped below a slim waist, showing a band of firm brown flesh where her cropped top didn’t quite meet up with denim. Long slender legs completed the sexy little female package he judged to be about twenty-five years old.
Conversations dropped off one by one until every man in the store, including old Mr. Dunn, turned his head. Cliff, working behind the counter, looked like a deer caught in headlights as she approached him.
Tony was too far away to hear what she asked, but he could see the tips of Cliff’s ears turn a bright red. He pointed to the back of the store. She turned, and Tony felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the place. She had a face like an angel, with big blue-green eyes and a generous upper lip over a full lower lip. A mouth made for kissing and a body built straight out of every man’s fantasy.
Suddenly the fact that every guy in the store was probably thinking the same thing annoyed the hell out of him. He had a sudden irrational and possessively childish urge to tell them he had seen her first.
He shook his head at his own foolishness. He had better things to do with his time than stand in Nilsen’s Hardware and have fantasies that could get him arrested in half the states in the country. If he was going to get his house finished on his land before the cold weather set in so he could move out of his tiny unheated trailer, he needed to get going.
Yeah, right, he thought, rooted to the spot as he watched the utterly female way she walked.
She made her way to the power tools and bent over the boxes that contained sanders. Tony bit back a groan and headed for the counter to pay for his supplies.
A man could only take so much.
Cliff rang up the sack of nails and caulking. He made change, his attention not on what he was doing. Tony had to grab the coins before they dropped on the counter.
“Who is she?” Tony asked, resisting the urge to turn around and take another long look.
Cliff shrugged and leaned to the side so he could see around Tony. “Don’t know. This is the first she’s been in here.”
She had to be new in town, Tony thought. In Ferndale strangers never went unnoticed. Especially women who looked as good as this one.
He lingered until Cliff straightened up and smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, alerting Tony to the fact she was on her way to the counter. He moved a few feet away to look at a display of saw blades.
She walked by him carrying a box and trailing the fragrance of summer flowers, sweet and fresh.
“Does this sander come with instructions?” She laid a credit card beside the box.
Tony stifled a groan. He was all for equal opportunity, but unskilled women and power tools were generally a bad combination.
Cliff slid her plastic credit card across the counter, swiped it through his machine and handed it back before Tony could read the name on it.
Cliff mumbled and reached to open the box. He waved a piece of paper. “Sorry, miss, no operating instructions. Just the usual safety warnings.” He handed her the credit slip to sign.
Unable to help himself, Tony stepped closer, hoping his carnal thoughts didn’t show on his face. “Excuse me, miss. Maybe I could help.”
Julie turned to glance at the great-looking man she had noticed lurking by a display of big metal wheels with wicked teeth. Boy, they sure didn’t grow them like this in Los Angeles. From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall gorgeous hunk of man.
She flashed him her best smile. “Could help me with what?” she asked, wondering exactly what he meant.
She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Shy, perhaps. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who would be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through the close fit of his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.
He took off his hat and ran a big square hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair, then gestured to the box the middle-aged clerk struggled to repackage. “The sander, ma’am.”
The cowboy was blushing. She swallowed a smile. Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?
She hoped not.
She was going to be in Ferndale all summer, and had no friends here. No one she knew from Los Angeles was likely to come for a visit. She’d been dreading being stuck in this small town for three long months.
Quaint Victorian Ferndale hadn’t changed any since she’d left almost ten years ago to go to college. Now that she’d used her credit card, within hours everyone in town would know she was back in Northern California. Give her a big city any day. There was no such thing as privacy in a small town.
She winked at him. “Thanks, cowboy, but I think I can manage.”
At least she could learn. With her budget and time limit, she had to become adept quickly to finish all the things that needed doing to her grandmother’s house.
Her house now.
She wanted get the place fixed up and put it on the market. She had to get back to L.A. before the school year started.
He tapped his forefinger on the box. “Do you have any experience with power tools?”
The cowboy had a polite earnestness about him she found appealing. The men she knew were so into their own image and being cool they would never show the kind of interest she saw on his handsome face.
She shrugged, amused that he would assume she couldn’t manage by herself because she was a woman. She was smart and could figure out how to do what needed to be done.
Julie glanced around at the men who had gathered to listen openly to their conversation, then gave them a smile.
“How hard can it be? You all know how to use them, don’t you?” she asked sweetly, then picked up the box and sauntered out onto Main Street.
Every pair of eyes watched her leave. As she disappeared from sight, Tony swore he heard a collective male sigh from inside the store.
Tony turned to Cliff. “Who is she?”
Cliff scratched his bald head, still staring at the now empty door. “Dunno.”
Tony reached over and pulled the credit slip out of Cliff’s fingers.
“Julie Kerns.” He read aloud.
“That was little Julie Kerns?” Mr. Dunn peered around Tony trying to see the slip of paper.
Tony turned to stare at the old man. “You know her?”
Mr. Dunn nodded. “She used to live here. Moved in with her grandma when she was a little girl after her folks died.”
“Where does her grandmother live?”
“Doesn’t. Her grandma was Bessie Morgan. Died about two months ago.”
Tony thought for a minute. The name was vaguely familiar. “The blue-and-white Queen Anne style house with the vines over by the church?”
Mr. Dunn nodded. “Yup. Heard Julie got the house. Must be moving in.”
Tony stored that bit of information away and left the store whistling.
He’d find a reason to go and pay the little lady a call and remind her how neighborly Ferndale could be.
Tony stood on the sidewalk in the hot noon sun and shifted the ladder on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. He contemplated the cottage belonging to the very enticing Julie Kerns.
Two things came to mind.
First, the house was a marvel of workmanship, with all the trim and special touches that went into a Queen Anne. Not as fussy as most Victorians, he’d always liked the design.
Second, the place needed a heck of a lot of work.
For starters, the top two wooden steps to the porch were rotten. He glanced up and noted the rain gutter had rusted through in several places. That explained the rot.
He leaned the new ladder she’d ordered against the side of his truck and hefted the five gallon cans of plastering compound and primer.
Skirting the rotten wood, he climbed the stairs and set the cans beside the front door. The doorbell, a round crank set in the wall, rang loud enough to be heard in the next block.
Within moments, he saw her through the beveled glass window set in the middle of the door. She wore baggy old jeans and a big shirt. He missed yesterday’s outfit.
Julie opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Hello, cowboy.”
He grinned at her and tipped his hat. “Afternoon, Miss Kerns.” He’d forgotten how pretty she was.
“Please, it’s Julie.” She didn’t seem surprised that he knew her name.
“I’m Tony. Tony Graham.”
She gave him that great smile of hers, then glanced down and spotted the cans. “Do you work at the hardware store?”
“No, ma’am. Just doing Cliff a favor. His wife took the truck to Redding to do some shopping.”
Tony hoisted the cans and she stood aside so he could enter. “Where do you want these?”
“Upstairs. But you can leave them right there.”
“I’ll take them up for you. Lead the way.”
He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.
She turned into one of the front bedrooms. He set the cans inside the door. She’d been busy. All the furniture had been pushed into the middle of the room and covered with a tarp.
Tony gave a low whistle when he looked up and saw the water damage to the ceiling and walls. Big chunks of plaster were missing. “Roof?”
She nodded. “Yes. Bessie hated to spend money and waited until the leak got really bad before she had it repaired.”
He nodded. Lots of people put off work, then ended up paying more. He didn’t understand their logic.
Dubious that a novice had a chance of doing a decent plaster job, Tony wandered over to a damaged wall and turned to eye the book she held. “You ever do any plaster repair?”
“Not yet.” She slapped the book she was holding closed and set it on top of the tarp, then put her hands on her hips.
She sure did look determined.
She studied him for so long he wanted to squirm. Then she squared her shoulder as if she had made a decision and asked, “Have you had lunch?”
It took him a moment to react. He didn’t expect the question. “No. I was just about to take a break.” His lunch was in his truck.
“Good. Have lunch with me.”
Tony was both surprised and pleased at her invitation. He had been trying to decide how to ask her out. Now they could get acquainted over a sandwich at the kitchen table.
“Sure. That would be great.”
“I have to warn you, I have an ulterior motive.”
Tony raised an eyebrow as a quick fantasy shot through his mind.
She tapped her book with a slender forefinger. “I want to pick your brain about plastering techniques.”
Oh, well, he thought, feeling a little deflated, at least she wanted to have lunch with him.
He followed her downstairs and instead of turning toward the back of the house where he assumed the kitchen would be, she went out the front door.
“We’re going out?”
Julie looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile. “My treat. I don’t cook.”
He wanted to ask her why not. Cooking was basic for existing as far as he was concerned. Did she eat all her meals out? It seemed a little too soon to ask. Some women got so prickly when a guy asked questions like that.
“Okay.” He wasn’t comfortable with her picking up the tab even if it was her idea, but they could discuss that when the time came.
Tony closed the front door behind him and walked with her a half block until they hit Main Street. They chatted about how the town had not changed at all in the years since she had left.
“Village Bakery okay with you?”
“Sure.” He’d eat the lunch in his truck for supper.
They found a table and gave the waitress their order.
Julie smiled at him and he went warm all over. What a beauty, with her streaked brown hair and blue-green eyes. He smiled back and noticed she had flecks of gold in her eyes that matched the streaks in her hair.
“Now, about plastering.”
He didn’t care why she had invited him to lunch. If she smiled at him like that she could have anything she wanted. “What do you need to know?”
She shrugged. “Everything.”
Tony laughed loudly enough that everyone in the bakery turned to look at the two of them.
“You sure you want to do this yourself? I’d be glad to help.” He could take some time off from building his house.
She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the table, then back up at him. “No, thanks. I’m going to do it myself, but I’m not above wangling a few tips. How did you learn to do plastering?”
“My dad and I built the house my folks live in now when I was a teenager. He was in construction before he started ranching.”
“Do your parents live around here?”
“No. Wyoming.”
“How did you come to live in Ferndale?”
He felt a quick stab of the familiar pain associated with the accident, Jimmy’s death, and how he had come to be where he was. “I inherited a piece of property just outside of town. I’m building my own place there now.”
The waitress set their sandwiches in front of them. He thanked her and between bites, steered the conversation back to plastering. He told Julie everything he could think of that would help her do the job.
She asked a few questions, then mentioned her grandmother again, commenting on all the stuff she still needed to clean out.
He eyed her curiously. “You called your grandmother by her first name?”
Her expressive blue-green eyes became shuttered for a moment, then she gave him a rueful smile. “Bessie never liked being called Grandma.”
Tony tucked that bit of information away to ponder later.
“You have a lot of work to do on the place before you move in.” He hadn’t missed the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint.
She laughed. “I’m moved in, but it’s temporary. As soon as I can get the placed fixed up, it goes on the market and I go home.”
“Where’s home?” He didn’t like the thought of her leaving Ferndale. He had plans to get to know her better.
A lot better.
“Los Angeles.”
He couldn’t think of a worse place to live. “Why?”
She raised a finely arched eyebrow. “Why what?”
“Why do you live there?” It must be for her job.
She laughed. “Because I like it. Why do you live in Ferndale?”
He grinned at her. “Because I like it.” Or at least he would when he could move into his own home.
“What do you do in L.A.?” He wondered what kind of job would keep her there.
“I teach high school. English.”
The waitress brought the bill and they both reached for it. “I invited you.” Julie jerked the slip of paper out of his hand.
“Half?” He didn’t let women buy him meals. It might be old-fashioned, but it didn’t set right.
“No. Then I’ll feel guilty for picking your brain the whole time we ate.”
Tony shrugged, then thought of a plan. “Okay. But only if you agree to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
Julie watched him for a minute. He sensed her hesitation, then she gave him another of her great smiles. “Deal.”
He watched her walk up to the counter to pay.
He’d never had a teacher who looked like Ms. Kerns. The boys in her classes probably had a hard time keeping their minds on the subject matter when she was standing in front of the class.
He stood up and pulled two bills out of his pocket for the tip. She saw him leave the money on the table and rolled her eyes.
They walked back to her house in companionable silence.
He glanced over at her. She could teach anywhere. Why would she choose to live in a big smelly city like Los Angeles? Maybe a guy kept her there. He didn’t like the thought.
“So you teach English. Fond of the classics?” He liked her hair. So many different shades of brown.
She shrugged. “I’m fond of all kinds of books.”
He had been, too, once. He had devoured books, losing himself for hours in them. Since the accident he had to struggle to read, and the frustration ruined the pleasure.
When they got to her place Tony unloaded the rest of her order and carried a ladder and bag of small hand tools upstairs. The banister was loose and needed bracing.
He found Julie leaning against a piece of covered furniture, holding her how-to book and frowning.
“You need me to stay?” He glanced over at the book she studied. Doing plaster work took some skill. Even with everything he’d told her he was skeptical that she could manage alone.
“Nope.” She glanced up from the page she studied and smiled. “Remember? I’m going to do it myself.”
He wondered why she was so stubborn about not having help. He’d be willing to take time off from working on his own house. He didn’t say anything. From the set of her shoulders and the jut of her chin it was obvious she was intent on tackling the job herself.
He’d give her the rest of the day to see how hard the job was, then come back and see if she’d changed her mind about his help.
He reached into the bag and pulled out the goggles and dust mask he had purchased and added to her order.
“Come over here.” Tony motioned to her.
When she hesitated, he said, “Just more friendly advice.”
She shrugged and moved to his side. Her hair smelled like lemons, and he fought the urge to lean closer and inhale.
He positioned her under the worst of the damage, liking the feel of her warm skin under her cotton shirt.
Reluctantly he let go of her and pointed to the ceiling. “Always wear these.” He held up the mask and goggles. “They’ll get in your way, but you’ll get used to them. Be sure to chip off all the stained plaster. Otherwise, the stain will bleed through your new paint.”
“Okay.” She glanced up to the ceiling and back to his face.
Tony handed over the safety equipment and wanted to reach for her, the urge to kiss her strong.
He pulled back. Whoa, way too soon for a move like that, he thought. Instead he stepped away and opened the ladder, positioning it under a gaping hole in the ceiling. “Good luck.”
As he turned to leave, she said, “’Bye, Tony. And thanks.”
“Anytime. Thanks for lunch.” He gave her a smile before he started down the stairs.
Julie watched him go, then glanced down at the goggles and mask dangling from her fingers. His concern about her safety touched her.
She ran a finger over the ridges in the blue mask. The handsome man had some kind of problem with speech comprehension and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She’d noticed how he’d watched her face intently as she spoke, and then there would be a bit of lag time before he replied. She didn’t think he was deaf, but perhaps she was wrong and he was reading lips.
Curiosity got the better of her and she went out to the upstairs landing and leaned over the rail just as he opened the front door.
“Tony?” She kept her voice very quiet.
He turned immediately. “Yes?”
Well, his hearing was fine. She groped for something to say. “Ah, if you see Cliff, tell him thanks for the delivery.”
He tipped his hat. “Sure thing. Be careful not to lean on that banister. It’s loose.” He closed the door behind him.
She knew the railing was loose. She just hadn’t gotten to that chapter in her fix-it book yet.
She glanced around the upstairs landing. How hard could it be? She had the tools and the how-to book. If she sold the place as a fixer-upper she would get a lot less for it, and she needed the money.
Her dream was to take time off teaching to write. She had ideas for several children’s books, but she needed the time. Teaching seemed to drain away her creativity.
She’d sublet her apartment at the beach for the summer and planned to spend her vacation repairing plaster and painting. Then she’d put the house up for sale and go back to Los Angeles in time to start teaching. When the house sold, she’d take a leave of absence to write.
Julie walked back into the bedroom. She’d checked recent sale prices of Victorians in Ferndale. She figured she could take next year, maybe even the next two, off if she moved away from the beach and into a cheaper apartment.
There were a few pieces of her grandmother’s furniture she’d like to keep, but the rest she could offer with the house. She made a mental note to talk to the people who ran the Foggy Bottom Antiques Store and Cream City Antiques. They might be willing to take some of it on consignment.
Her mind wandered back to Tony. Why had she agreed to dinner tomorrow night? She didn’t plan to get involved. She’d ended her on-again-off-again relationship with Alan before she left L.A. He had indicated he wanted to get more serious, and she wasn’t interested in a commitment.
Julie rummaged through the bag from the hardware store and laid out the tools recommended in the book. In L.A. she wouldn’t think of going out with someone she didn’t know. But here in Ferndale nobody was really a stranger.
She turned her attention back to work and did a quick scan of the section on repairing plaster. She climbed the ladder to get to the damaged wall, then donned the mask and goggles. Within minutes of chipping away at the plaster dust covered her hair and sifted into her bra.
She sneezed and a cloud of fine white powder drifted down.
Why would anyone choose to do this kind of work? She thought of Tony as she wiped at her face with her sleeve, then climbed back down the ladder to tuck a rag in the waistband of her jeans.
She flipped on the portable compact disk player and with Jimmy Buffett wailing about cheeseburgers in paradise, she went back to work.
By midafternoon her arms ached. Even though she had worn the goggles, she had to use saline drops to get the dust out of her eyes. But she’d made good progress. All the old plaster was down. Tomorrow she would start patching. Her arms were too sore to start today.
Julie took a shower and washed the plaster out of her hair. Then she fixed herself a snack and contemplated what she would do with the rest of the afternoon.
The closets. Bessie had a lifetime of stuff stored on the shelves and in the cupboards. Julie felt like an intruder going through her grandmother’s belongings, but it had to be done.
The woman had never shared anything personal with Julie, and would probably be horrified that someone was poking through her things, but Julie couldn’t get rid of them without sorting them.
Reluctantly she trudged back up the stairs and started in the room where she had slept as a teenager.
She slipped off her shoes and used the chair from the dressing table to reach the shelves in the closet. There were boxes of hats and gloves that must have dated back to the forties. Bessie had worn a hat to church every Sunday.
Julie wondered if they would be worth anything at a vintage clothing store. She knew of a good one in L.A. she could call, she thought as she piled them in a corner of the room.
After she finished the closet, she opened the cupboards above the closet. Large boxes marked Bedding were stacked to the top of the space. Had her grandmother saved old bedding as well as old clothes?
Julie reached as high as she could and tugged at the top box. It seemed to be caught on the box below. She should go get the ladder, but she was tired and the thought of getting down to get the darned thing was too much work.
She gave the box a yank and it slid toward her. The cardboard came apart in her hands and a waterfall of huge leather-bound books tumbled down on her, knocking her from the chair.
As she hit the floor beside the bed she heard a sound that reminded her of a dry twig breaking.
She lay up against the bed, stunned. The books were ledgers from the insurance business her grandfather had run in Ferndale for years.
Furious with herself for being so stupid, she struggled to sit up. It hurt to move her right arm and she had a gash on the inside of her left elbow that was starting to bleed freely. Her legs felt okay, so she struggled to her feet and grabbed a towel from the bathroom to hold against the cut.
She got as far as the top of the stairs when she started to feel dizzy, so she lowered herself to the top step and leaned against the wall. She needed a moment to think about what she’d do next.
Tony skirted the rotten boards on Julie’s steps and paused at the front door. He glanced down at the plaster finishing tool he held in his hand. His offer of help so soon after she had turned him down twice might make her mad, but getting a smooth finish to match the rest of the room was tricky, and he wanted to help her out.
He turned the crank on the old doorbell.
“Come in.”
He heard her faintly through the heavy door. He stepped into the dim foyer and glanced up the stairs to find her sitting on the top step. She’d washed her hair and changed clothes.
He smiled. “Wear yourself out?”
“Something like that,” she said, her voice flat and low.
She was mad at him and he hadn’t even offered his help yet. She’d undoubtedly spotted the trowel in his hand.
But then he realized as he looked up at her something was wrong. She was leaning against the wall as if she needed the support. Her face was pale and drawn.
He dropped the trowel and took the stairs two at a time, flipped on the light switch and crouched down on the step below her.
“You showed up at just the right time,” she said, an edge of pain in her voice.
He could see her struggle not to cry and it tore him up inside. “What happened?” He didn’t want to touch her until she told him where she hurt.
“I was cleaning out a cupboard and pulled a box of books down on my head.”
“Did you fall?” He cupped her face gently in his palms and studied the bruise blooming on her cheek.
“Yes,” she said with a catch in her voice.
He dropped his hands from her face. “Off the ladder?”
She shook her head. “I was standing on a chair.”
“Did you black out?” This was not the time to tell her how foolish she had been. Besides he could tell by her voice she had already told herself the same thing.
“No. I remember every last detail.” She attempted a laugh but it came out as a little sob.
Tony didn’t want her to fall apart so he patted her briskly on the knee and said, “You’re doing fine.”
Julie nodded and seemed to pull herself together.
“Tell me what else hurts besides your cheek.”
“It hurts when I move my arm.”
She had a dark green towel in her lap. She’d been cradling her right arm with her left hand. “Okay. What part of your arm?”
“My shoulder.”
She had on an oversize blue shirt. “I need to unbutton your blouse, okay?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Is that the best line you have, cowboy?” she asked with a little hitch in her voice.
He returned the smile, relieved she still had her sassy sense of humor. “It’ll have to do for now.”
He unbuttoned her shirt and gently eased the fabric off her shoulder, trying to ignore the electric-blue lacy bra strap.
He ran his fingers lightly along her clavicle, stopping at a big lumpy spot. There was no doubt the bone was fractured. Swelling and discoloration had already begun.
Carefully he pulled the shirt back in place and buttoned her up. “You broke your collarbone.”
“I was afraid of that. I heard a snapping sound when I hit the floor.”
“What else?”
“I have a cut on my elbow. I think I landed on the corner of the bed frame.” She glanced down at her left arm.
He needed some space. She was leaning with her left arm against the wall. “I’m going to help you up and we’re going down into the kitchen so I can get a good look at your arm.”
“Okay.”
“Can you walk?” He couldn’t carry her without hurting her and he needed to assess her overall condition.
Her chin came up. “Yes.”
He stood up and backed down a step to give her the room to stand. She braced herself against the wall and swayed a bit.
“Dizzy?’ He grabbed her hips to steady her, braced to catch her if she fainted.
“A little.”
There was no color in her face and her skin looked clammy.
“I’m going to get beside you.” Tony stepped up to the same stair she was on and reached under the back of her shirt, grasping a handful of the waistband of her pants.
“Just take it slow.”
She nodded and started down the steep stairs, wincing as each step jarred her arm.
He guided her to a kitchen chair and she lowered herself gingerly. He knelt on the floor beside her and pulled the towel away from her arm. A jagged gash about three inches long lay across the elbow joint along the inside of her arm. The towel was so dark he hadn’t noticed the blood.
He went blank for a moment and then pulled himself together. On missions he’d acted purely on his training. It was different with Julie. She shook him up.
Tony pulled himself together and said, “It’s still bleeding. I need to put some pressure on it. Where are the clean towels?”
“The drawer next to the sink.”
He found a stack of white dish towels and made a thick pad with one, pressed it against the cut, then wrapped it tightly with a second towel.
He slid into the chair next to her. “Okay, that should hold you until we can get it stitched up.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a long look. “You want to do it? My grandmother’s sewing box is in the living room.”
He shook his head, knowing she was kidding. He had put stitches in before, but that was when there were no medics around. Her beautiful smooth skin deserved more of an expert than he was.
She stared at him. “Where did you learn to do all this?”
“Navy. I went through some medical training.” He helped her to her feet, grabbing hold of her waistband again. The skin on her lower back was smooth and warm. He wondered if her panties matched her bra. He had always been a sucker for those lingerie ads.
He shook his head, disgusted with his thoughts. He must be more hung up on her than he’d thought to be considering jumping her bones on the way to the hospital. “Next stop, Redwood City emergency room.”
Since the accident and Jimmy’s death he’d been numb, unable to feel any real emotion, but taking care of her this afternoon had changed that.
He wasn’t sure he was ready.
She twisted until she could get up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
The sisterly kiss sent a zing through his system. “No problem,” he said and led her out to his truck, knowing his comment was probably the biggest lie he had ever told.
His instincts had always been good. This woman could cause him plenty of problems, the kind he had never dealt with before.
The kind that involved his heart.
Chapter Two
Exhausted and fighting tears, Julie stood on the sidewalk beside Tony and contemplated the steps leading to her front door.
They reminded her of Mount Everest.
He had a firm grip on the upper part of her left arm. At least he was no longer hauling her around by the back of her pants.
“Thank you. For everything.” She tried to pull away from his big warm hand. She wanted to get in the house before she fell apart. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him.
Tony didn’t let go. “Let’s get you in the house.”
She looked up at the dark windows. “Thanks, but I’ve taken enough of your time.”
He ignored her and urged her up the stairs. “I’ll help you get settled.”
She didn’t want to be rude after he had rescued her, but she needed to be alone. She never let anyone see her cry.
Through the haze of medication that didn’t quite block the pain, she was beginning to realize she wouldn’t be able to work on the house for quite a while. The doctor had trussed her up like a Thanksgiving turkey, with her arm in a sling strapped to her chest to immobilize her broken collarbone.
She couldn’t finish fixing up the house on her summer vacation.
The utter frustration of her situation overwhelmed her and she groaned. At least her anger at herself helped overcome the urge to cry.
Tony dipped down until his face was level with hers. “Julie? What’s wrong?”
If she’d had a good hand, she would have smacked him. What wasn’t wrong?
She shook her head. This experience had turned her into a shrew. “Let’s just get in the house.”
Tony opened the door, flipped on the light in the foyer and led her across the threshold.
She needed to get him out of the house. She just wanted to go to bed and wallow in misery for a while. Tomorrow she’d think about what she was going to do.
“I really appreciate everything you’ve done. I’d like to pay you for your time.”
He looked amazed at her comment, then his mouth thinned into a grim line. “Pay me? You’re not in L.A., lady. Folks in small towns help each other.”
His angry attitude took her by surprise. She didn’t need to be reminded she wasn’t in L.A. Stiffly she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
She just wanted him out of the house so she could fall apart. “I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“My time isn’t your problem. Come on, I told you I’m staying until you’re settled.” Gently, his touch a contrast to his voice, he grasped her arm and started toward the stairs.
Immediately she stiffened up, anger catching up with distress. Getting rid of him was starting to look as tough as getting gum off the bottom of a shoe. Digging in her heels, she decided to be direct. Hinting hadn’t worked. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stay.”
Tony dropped her arm and studied her for a moment. “So, you’re fine, huh?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“How are you going to get undressed?”
Julie hadn’t thought about that. Her chin came up. “I’ll manage.”
He took off his hat and tossed it onto the knob on top of the banister. “How are you going to get your bra off?”
Good question, she thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. How was she going to get undressed? One arm was strapped to her chest and she couldn’t bend the other at the elbow because of the stitches.
He threw her a smug look that irritated her. “Do you have any female friends in town?”
She hadn’t made close friends except for Lynn, and she lived in New York now. When she’d been sent to live with her grandmother after her parents died, she’d resented being yanked from her home and friends in L.A. and been pretty much of a loner all through high school.
The only person who came to mind was Betty, Lynn’s mother. She’d heard Betty was off visiting her son in New Mexico.
“No.” Darn him. At least now she was so angry she no longer felt like crying.
“Come on,” he said briskly, urging her up the stairs. “Things are going to look much better when you get a little sleep.”
Julie didn’t think she had ever met a guy who seemed to relish being in control the way Tony did. It rankled. She was used to taking care of herself.
Most of the time.
A little voice in her head reminded her she wasn’t doing such a good job.
Her collarbone ached and her stitches burned. Lacking the energy to fight him any longer, she gave in and let him lead her into her old bedroom.
The chair lay there on its side, surrounded by the ledgers.
“What do you sleep in?” he asked matter-of-factly, ignoring the mess.
“There’s a nightshirt in the top dresser drawer.”
He left her side to rummage through the drawer and came up with a pink flannel nightshirt with the words Uppity Woman scrawled across the front in red. “This?”
She nodded and he laid the shirt over his arm and came back to stand in front of her. With sure fingers he unbuckled the strap around her middle that held the sling close to her body.
“I’m going to take the sling off. I need you to do nothing. Concentrate on keeping your arm perfectly still, okay?”
Julie nodded. That shouldn’t be hard. It hurt when she moved even a little.
He slipped the sling off. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.” For all his muscles he had a gentle touch.
“Now I’m going to unbutton your shirt.” His big hands were quick with the buttons.
For the second time today he had his hands inside her blouse, she thought. It was getting to be a habit.
He slid the shirt off her left shoulder and eased it over her left arm, past the wide elastic bandage covering her stitches.
“Now, let me do all the work here. You just think about holding still.” He slid the shirt off her right shoulder and eased it down her arm.
She sighed when he had it off. He had such warm, careful hands. Slick as a whistle, he hadn’t hurt her at all. She glanced down to see her nipples puckering through the blue satin of her bra. She wanted to be as cool about this as he was, but her body wasn’t cooperating.
Keeping his eyes on her face as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at all the skin he’d just uncovered he said, “Turn around.”
His voice sounded low and husky.
He wasn’t quite as detached after undressing her as he’d like her to believe. Good, because she wasn’t detached at all. Obediently she turned.
He stood so close behind her she could feel the heat of his body on her bare back.
He unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders, over her elbows and her hands, then dropped it like it was a poisonous snake.
Her heart thudded in her chest. What was wrong with her? She barely knew the man and she wanted to feel his hands on her.
It must be the pain medication.
“You’re doing fine.” His breath feathered the hair behind her ear.
She shivered.
“Cold?” He reached around her from behind to slide her right arm into the sleeve. The back of his hand grazed her bare breast.
He cleared his throat. “You’ll be covered up in just a minute.”
She was anything but cold. He brought the shirt behind her back and gently eased the fabric over her stiff elbow.
“Okay, turn around.” Hands on her shoulders again, he turned her toward him.
She looked up into his face as he did up her buttons and had the oddest sensation of being a desirable woman and a cared-for child all in the same moment.
He eased her into the sling and strapped her up, then stepped back. “There. All set.” He was back to his matter-of-fact tone again.
She kicked off her shoes. Julie wanted to hear the husky desire in his voice she’d heard before.
A little devil in her made her say, “Help me with my jeans?” Besides, she thought, how was she going to get the snug denim off without help?
She could see beads of sweat on his upper lip just before he leaned over and fumbled under her nightshirt for the fastener on her pants. His position gave her a great view of his hair, thick, dark and slightly wavy.
He eased the zipper down, hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the denim over her hips. She could feel the trail of heat down her body left by the touch of his hands.
He backed up and heaved a sigh as she stepped out of her pants.
“Anything else?” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest as if he was in pain.
Julie looked down at her bare toes, hiding a smile. Just one more thing before she let him off the hook. “Ah, my, ah…panties.”
She glanced up at him and swore she saw his eyes cross for an instant. It was all she could do not to smirk.
“Sure.” His voice was gruff. He reached up and hooked his work-roughened fingers over the elastic and slid the satin down her legs.
Satisfied he had been punished enough for being so controlling, she kicked the panties over with her jeans. “Thanks.”
He skirted around her as if she was on fire and pulled the covers down on the bed. “Get in. I’ll go get you a glass of water.”
He pulled her prescription of pain pills out of his shirt pocket and smacked the bottle down on the bedside table before he left the room.
Awkwardly Julie scooted under the covers. She lay back against the pillows and thought about what she’d just done. It was petty to harass Tony like that, but people who thought they knew best annoyed her. Plus, she was so angry at herself for fouling up all her summer plans she’d taken out her anger on him.
She supposed she needed to apologize, but she didn’t know how to do that without embarrassing both of them.
One more thing she would have to deal with in the morning, she thought as her eyes slid closed.
Tony came back with a glass of water and found Julie had fallen asleep. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders, turned out the overhead light and switched on a small lamp on the dresser across the room.
He wasn’t going to wake her up to give her a pill to make her sleep.
He didn’t want her awake.
Getting her undressed had been harder than most of the missions he’d been on for the Navy.
He picked up the scattered ledgers and righted the chair. Then he draped her jeans and shirt over the chair, along with the blue bra and matching panties. Her clothes were still warm and smelled like her. With a groan he settled into an overstuffed chair and watched her sleep. She looked so young and innocent lying there.
Hah, he thought. About as innocent as Eve when she teamed up with the serpent in the Garden of Eden.
And he wanted a bite of the apple.
The woman knew just what caliber ammunition she carried. She thought it was safe to mess with his head because she’d been injured.
She was right.
There was time, and Tony was a patient man. She needed him because she wouldn’t be able to work on this place for weeks. By the time he had the house in shape and Julie had mended, he planned to show her what happened when you played with fire.
Tony dozed off with a smile on his face.
Chapter Three
Julie woke after a restless night. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Groaning, she tried to lift her hand to rub her gritty eyes, but she’d forgotten her arm was strapped to her waist. She tried her other arm and found her elbow so stiff from the stitches she couldn’t reach up.
She closed her eyes and fought back frustration, furious with herself for being so clumsy. Her plans to get the house fixed up to sell during her vacation would be on hold for at least a few weeks, if not longer.
Her wonderful timetable was ruined, her dreams on hold.
A tear leaked out from under her lids. She was about to give herself a talking to for being such a weakling when she heard her bedroom door creak.
Before she had time to be frightened, Tony stuck his head in the room.
He grinned, managing to look bashful and incredibly handsome at the same time.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
Quickly she turned her head and wiped her eyes on the pillow case. No way was she going to let him catch her crying like some wimpy little female. He walked in and brought the smell of fresh coffee with him as he handed her a steaming mug.
“Ah,” she closed her eyes and drank in the aroma. “You stopped for coffee. Thanks.”
She sat up and used her feet to scoot herself against the headboard.
She frowned as she noticed the coffee was in a mug from her grandmother’s kitchen.
“Where did you get the coffee?”
He grinned at her again. “Out of the coffeepot.”
Besides being extremely good-looking, the man had a killer grin. She wished he would stop using it. It ruined her train of thought.
Julie guided her thoughts back to the conversation. “I have a coffeepot?”
Tony nodded. “In the cupboard above the sink.”
She really hadn’t paid much attention to the kitchen. “And ground coffee?” Her grandmother had been a tea drinker as far as she remembered.
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I did have to go to Valley Grocery for that.”
Julie peered at the travel alarm clock beside the bed. “How long have you been here?”
“All night.”
Oh, swell, she thought, noticing for the first time he had the same clothes on he’d worn yesterday.
That would give the town gossips something to chew on.
She’d known him less than two days and he stays over. “I thought we agreed you were leaving,” she snapped.
Tony didn’t look the least bit upset at her annoyed tone. “I told you I was staying. You might have needed something in the middle of the night.”
Vaguely Julie recalled Tony coming to check on her, but she’d been so groggy from the pain pills she had no idea what time it might have been. And since when did she care what the neighbors might think?
She realized she liked knowing he’d been there and it made her temper rise. She hadn’t expected him to stay and she didn’t want to impose. She could take care of herself.
“Well, thanks,” she said grudgingly. “That was nice of you. But I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
“No problem. It’s raining and I can’t work on my house today.”
She glanced out the window and noticed the storm for the first time. “Don’t you have a regular job?”
“No. I’m building a house on my land.”
She wanted to ask how he managed that without regular employment, but didn’t know how to do it without sounding like she was prying.
Tony raised an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth turned up in a sly little smile. “Need help getting dressed?”
Obviously he’d recovered his composure after the teasing she’d given him last night. It was her turn to blush. “Ah, I think I can manage.”
“The doctor said you can leave the sling off during the day. You just have to be careful.”
Good thing, she thought. There was no way to get out of the nightshirt trussed up the way she was.
He turned and headed out her bedroom door. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. Give me a yell if you need help.”
Julie sipped on the coffee and pondered her options. She could drive back to L.A. or stay here until she healed. Then she remembered her apartment had been sublet for the summer and her car had a stick shift. No way could she make the twelve-hour drive home even if she did have a place to live.
Okay, she would stay here in Ferndale. She scooted to the side of the mattress and wiggled around until she got her feet on the floor.
There had to be things she could do to the house one-handed, so the next few weeks wouldn’t be a total loss. Julie finished the coffee, feeling better now that she had the start of a plan in her mind.
She struggled out of the sling and awkwardly managed to get into a pair of panties and sweats. A bra was out of the question, and so apparently, was brushing her hair and putting on socks. She could ask Tony’s help with the socks, and even her hair, but she would have to go braless. There was no way she’d ask him for help with that.
Remembering the way she had acted last night brought a blush to her face. She must have been out of her mind to tease him like that. She barely knew him. Maybe she could blame her behavior on the pain medication she’d taken on the way home.
She made her way downstairs and found Tony sitting in the kitchen, slicing into a coffee cake.
She inhaled the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg, her mouth watering. “Tell me you did not bake that this morning.”
He laughed. “No. Mrs. Smithy dropped it off.”
Julie didn’t recognize the name. “Why?” Why would someone bring Tony a freshly baked coffee cake at her house?
He slipped a wedge of cake onto a plate and pushed it across the table towards her. “Because she heard you had been hurt in an accident.
Julie searched her memory. “I don’t even know who she is.”
“I think she knew your grandmother. Besides, this is a small town. Folks do nice things for each other in small towns.”
He’d made it very clear yesterday that he thought small towns were highly preferable to large cities. He saw this gift of food as a good thing.
Julie frowned, looking down at the plate. She viewed it as an intrusion into her privacy. By now everyone in town probably knew that she had been clumsy enough to fall off a chair.
The coffee cake smelled so good she decided not to let the reason it was in the middle of the kitchen table get in her way of enjoying it. She set her socks, brush and a rubber band down on the chair beside her and settled in to savor some home baking. Awkwardly she forked up a mouthful.
Tony watched her uncoordinated movements and nodded in approval. “The more you use that arm the less stiff you’ll be.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you, Dr. Tony.”
He cut a huge piece of cake for himself and sat across the table from her. After he had demolished half his piece of cake he paused and cleared his throat.
Julie glanced up, waiting. Obviously he was working his way up to saying something.
Finally he said, “Julie, I know you wanted to do all the work on this house yourself, but you aren’t going to be able to manage for a while. Why don’t you hire me? I could use the money.”
She was tempted. By hiring him she could get done even sooner that she had first planned and get back to L.A. Even if she hadn’t broken her collarbone she had no illusions that she could do the work as well or as fast as someone with experience and skill.
Hiring him would solve part of her problem, but there was a hitch. She hated to admit it, but her plan to do over the house herself was based on a lack of cash.
He had made a nice offer and he deserved an explanation, even though she didn’t want to give him so much personal information.
“I can’t afford to pay you and buy materials and supplies. I get paid ten months a year. I’m really strapped for cash.”
Tony shrugged one muscular shoulder. “No problem. Pay me when you close escrow. I’m saving money for stock.”
“Stock? You play the market?” She couldn’t picture him buying and selling, gambling on the stock market. He was too…steady.
He looked puzzled for a minute, then he laughed. “No. Stock as in horses.”
“Oh.” She felt silly. Hadn’t she nicknamed him cowboy? Of course he meant horses.
“When I get my house built, I’ll start on the barn and corrals. I’m going to raise and train horses.”
Julie studied him for a moment. Horse rancher. It fit. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Sure.” He stood up and scooped up her plate and his, carrying them to the sink. She watched him walk across the kitchen, admiring the fit of his worn jeans. The man did have one fine body.
He finished rinsing the plates and she quickly looked down at her folded hands as he turned toward her.
Tony stopped beside her chair. “I have to go check on Mrs. Trimball’s place, then I’ll be back.”
Betty Trimball, the minister’s widow and the only person in Ferndale she could call a friend, lived three blocks away.
She scooted her chair back across the worn linoleum. “When does Betty get back?” Julie wanted to see her again. There were very few people she felt that way about.
“A couple more weeks.” Tony squatted down beside her chair, took hold of her ankle and propped it on his thigh. He drew her sock onto her foot, and repeated the motion as he put on her other sock. The feel of his big square competent hands on her skin sent shivers up her legs.
In one fluid motion he stood up and picked up her brush. He drew the bristles through her hair in steady, firm strokes. Between the warmth of him at her back and the feel of the brush against her scalp, she had to brace herself to keep from sliding out of the chair.
She noticed he was very careful to be gentle over the lump on the side of her head where she had smacked her skull against the floor.
Where had he learned to deal with long hair? she wondered. An unexpected stab of jealousy spiked through her. Why did she even care?
“Ponytail?”
“What?” She tried to get her thoughts back to what he had asked.
“Do you want your hair in a ponytail, or down?”
She almost asked him how he wanted it. Stupid. Why should she care what he preferred?
“Ponytail.” She picked the elastic band off the chair beside her and held it up as far as her stiff elbow would allow.
She felt him twist the rubber band around her hair, and then he handed her the brush.
He still had a hold of her hair and he gave it a teasing little tug. “I’ll stop by before I head home to see if you need anything.”
No one had cared enough to ask her if she needed anything for a very long time. The tears that had snuck up on her earlier threatened to return. It had to be the pain medication. She blinked them back and stood, turning to face him.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugged and dipped his head in an endearing little boy kind of way. “No problem. See you later.”
He was out the back door and into the summer rain, leaving her feeling that her thank you had been inadequate considering all he had done for her in the past twenty-four hours.
Julie settled back in her chair and pondered what she should do. If she hired Tony she could get the work done by the time she had to go back to L.A. That way the house would be on the market. If she waited to do the work herself, she would probably have to make at least a few extra trips back up to Ferndale. She wouldn’t be able to put the place on the market until late fall, if that soon. With the price of gas and wear and tear on her car for extra trips, it made sense to hire Tony.
The thought made her feel uneasy. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him to do a good job. After all, wasn’t he building a house all by himself? It was just that she had planned to do it alone. Be her own boss, make her own decisions.
She had already seen him in action. He liked to be in control of a situation.
She began to argue with herself. She would still be in charge. She could help him out as he worked. That would speed things up. He had the skill and expertise, and she could learn from him.
She sat for a long time as her fingers fiddled with the bristles of her brush. Money and control weren’t the only problems, she thought.
She was attracted to him.
Very attracted.
If she hired him to work, they shouldn’t start a relationship that had nowhere to go anyway. He had made it clear he liked small town living, and in a matter of weeks she would head back to her life in Los Angeles.
She stood up and gingerly stretched her sore muscles, then headed upstairs, her thoughts still swirling. So the real question was, could she work with him and maintain her distance? Just be friends?
Of course she could.
She’d been around plenty of good-looking men. Even had a few who were friends. She laughed at herself. Was she turning her rescuer into some kind of irresistible knight on a white horse?
He was just a guy.
She set her brush down on the dresser and surveyed the damaged ceiling that she’d stripped yesterday. Just the thought of lifting her arms over her head to apply the plaster made her wince.
Julie made her decision. If she and Tony could come to reasonable terms, the ceiling would be their first project.
The sound of the front doorbell interrupted her thoughts. She headed down the stairs. A middle-aged woman stood on the porch holding a dish covered with foil. Julie thought she looked vaguely familiar but it was hard to tell through the wavy old oval glass window in the door.
She opened the door and the woman smiled. “Julie, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Jane Arnold.”
As soon as she spoke, Julie remembered. Jane Arnold had been one of the adults who led the youth group at the church. “Of course I remember.” Almost, she thought.
Mrs. Arnold held out a covered casserole. “I heard what happened. I made you some chicken.”
Of course. Hadn’t she predicted that the whole town would know? Julie remembered her manners. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you, dear, but I’m on my way to an appointment. Let me just put this in the refrigerator for you.”
Julie followed her to the kitchen and then back to the front door, feeling awkward over the woman’s show of concern. At Mrs. Arnold’s insistence, Julie promised to call if she needed anything.
By the time Tony returned hours later Julie had gotten tired of running up and down the stairs to answer the door and had planted herself in the front room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, giving her a quick once-over.
His question vaguely annoyed her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking on the role of her guardian.
“Tired, but otherwise pretty good.” Actually, answering the door had worn her out.
“Take any more pain pills?”
“No.” She was trying to avoid them. They made her stupid, and if she was going to be around Tony she needed to stay smart.
“Hungry?”
She thought for a moment. “Yes.”
“I’ll go get some groceries.” He started to turn toward the front door.
Julie grimaced. “Not necessary.”
She motioned to him to follow her to the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. There were five casseroles inside. “I will be eating tuna and noodles and chicken and rice for the next week.”
Tony surveyed her newly filled refrigerator and shook his head. “Looks like a church potluck on Saturday night.”
“Yeah,” Julie remarked sourly. “People just couldn’t wait to come and see Julie, all grown up and clumsy.”
Tony shot her a startled look, but didn’t say anything. He started touching the sides of the casserole dishes, then lifted the foil on the corner of one on the second shelf. “This one is still fairly warm. Want to start with it?”
Why was he being so nice? He couldn’t like tuna and noodles that much. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do?”
“What, and miss a free lunch? No, ma’am.” He grinned and pulled the glass dish out of the fridge.
Julie settled down onto one of the chairs and watched him scoop a huge amount of casserole onto a plate. When he started to fill the other plate she said, “Whoa, cowboy. I need less than half of that.”
He carried the plates to the table, found some silverware, and sat down. Julie watched, fascinated as he methodically and quickly cleaned his plate.
“Do you always eat that much?”
He shrugged. “Usually. I stay pretty busy during the day.”
She shoved the food around her plate. “Speaking of that, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I’m going to need some help, but I want to make sure you have the time. I mean, that you’re not going to regret your offer.”
He studied her face. “I wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t want to do it.”
She felt herself warm under his direct gaze. “Well, I just wanted to be sure.”
“I do need to keep working on my place, so how about I come in three days a week? We’ll see how it goes.” Tony stood up and carried the dishes to the sink.
“Okay. How long does it take you to get here from where you live?”
“If there’s no fog and the road isn’t washed out, about an hour and a half.”
That was worse than the commute times in L.A. “You’re kidding? You live that far out?”
“Have you been down Petrolia Road to the Lost Coast?”
She’d heard of it. “No. My grandmother never allowed me to go. She thought that’s where kids went to drink and get into trouble.” Besides, she’d been such a loner in high school she’d only been invited once.
Tony grinned at her. “She was right. I’ve chased kids off my property on occasion.”
He came around and helped her as she scooted back out of her chair. “Why don’t we take a look at what needs doing.”
Stiffly she got to her feet and stretched to get some of the kinks out. “Well, you’ve already seen the ceiling upstairs.”
“You did a nice job of cleaning it up.”
“Thanks.” She felt a glow of appreciation at his approval.
They wandered through the downstairs rooms, Julie pointing out what she wanted to do, as Tony nodded and added suggestions.
By the time they went upstairs into the room where she slept they’d settled on an hourly wage and Julie had a good idea of how long things would take. She felt better about her decision to hire Tony.
He was so businesslike she felt foolish thinking they would have problems working together.
She wandered over and looked out the window at the backyard, wondering if she should just forget the outside until later. The yard was a mess. Dead bushes and scrubby patches of grass filled the yard, along with the ugly supports for a clothesline that looked like two giant croquet wickets made out of thick galvanized pipe.
If she did any work on the yard now she’d just have to keep it up until the house sold. The yard could wait until the house was finished.
This plan was going to work, she thought as she gazed down on the dead grass and scraggly shrubs. Tony was friendly but businesslike, they agreed on what needed to be done, and paying him when the house sold fit into her tight budget.
Her worries over them having a personal relationship that got in the way of their business had been silly thinking.
Julie turned to mention the yard to him and came up against a very firm male body. She hadn’t heard him step behind her.
She lurched back in surprise and lost her balance. He reached out and grasped her around the waist to steady her. She smelled soap on his skin.
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Jill Limber
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: THE RANCHER…A man would have to be blind not to notice pretty, sophisticated Julie Kerns, Ferndale′s newest arrival. And good-looking Tony Graham was far from visually impaired. But when the fiercely independent beauty needed him to renovate her grandmother′s old Victorian, he couldn′t stop the unsettling images of them living together in the house–as a family.AND THE CITY SLICKERReturn to Ferndale? Never! Julie envisioned herself among the bright lights and bustle of L.A. forever. Yet she found herself a reluctant homeowner in the tiny town of bad childhood memories. Could the sexy, small-town cowboy make her see there was joy to be found in country life…with him in the picture?