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The 15 Lb. Matchmaker
Jill Limber
When the best-looking man she'd ever set eyes on strode into the diner, Jolie Carleton nearly forgot she'd sworn off men after her fiance jilted her. Now this sexy cowboy was asking her to live at his family ranch and look after a ten-month-old infant! Jolie needed a job, and Griff needed her–in more ways than one.Sheer desperation made Griff hire the stranded city beauty on the spot. His nephew needed a woman's care. But the longer the pretty Miss Carleton stayed, the more Griff realized he needed some TLC, too. Was the nanny from nowhere the key to unlocking his hardened heart–and creating a family filled with love…?



“Ms. Carleton?”
His deep voice rolled over her like a fog across Puget Sound.
Startled, Jolie nodded and swallowed. “Yes?”
Griff took a minute to take in the whole package. What the heck was a beautiful woman dressed like this doing in Harry’s Diner?
“My name’s Griff Price. I have a proposition for you.” He didn’t miss the way her big brown eyes widened at his choice of words.
“How do you do, Mr. Price?” Her speech was careful and polite, her expression wary.
Sleek and sophisticated, she reminded him of a Thoroughbred horse. Generations of carefully chosen bloodlines came together to produce a woman this magnificent. Good bone structure, sleek hair, clear eyes, fine skin and good muscle tone didn’t happen by accident.
He was pretty good at sizing up women. She didn’t look like a baby-sitter.
She looked like trouble.
Dear Reader,
With summer nearly here, it’s time to stock up on essentials such as sunblock, sandles and plenty of Silhouette Romance novels! Here’s our checklist of page-turners to keep your days sizzling!

A Princess in Waiting by Carol Grace (SR #1588)—In this ROYALLY WED: THE MISSING HEIR title, dashing Charles Rodin saves the day by marrying his brother’s pregnant ex-wife!

Because of the Ring by Stella Bagwell (SR #1589)—With this magical SOULMATES title, her grandmother’s ring leads Claudia Westfield to the man of her dreams….

A Date with a Billionaire by Julianna Morris (SR #1590)—Bethany Cox refused her prize—a date with the charitable Kane O’Rourke—but how can she get a gorgeous billionaire to take no for an answer? And does she really want to…?

The Marriage Clause by Karen Rose Smith (SR #1591)—In this VIRGIN BRIDES installment, innocent Gina Foster agrees to a marriage of convenience with the wickedly handsome Clay McCormick, only to be swept into a world of passion.

The Man with the Money by Arlene James (SR #1592)—A millionaire playboy in disguise romances a lovely foster mom. But will the truth destroy his chance at true love?

The 15 lb. Matchmaker by Jill Limber (SR #1593)—Griff Price is the ultimate lone cowboy—until he’s saddled with a baby and a jilted-bride-turned-nanny.
Be sure to come back next month for our list of great summer stories.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor

The 15 lb. Matchmaker
Jill Limber


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Jack—my personal hero.
I love you, forever and always.

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. Visit her at www.JillLimber.com (http://www.JillLimber.com)!



Contents
Chapter One (#ue69097e9-34cc-55b3-8c11-0285944f48c3)
Chapter Two (#uaec2f997-1303-532a-bee6-4975269e55f2)
Chapter Three (#ua5c62277-1f41-5ab6-a4fa-f58a9db91f9d)
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
Today might qualify as the worst day of Jolie Carleton’s life. If you didn’t count last Saturday, when she’d been left standing at the altar in front of three hundred people.
Being jilted had left her more embarrassed than hurt. She’d had second thoughts about her intended for weeks. If she’d had the backbone to speak up it wouldn’t have happened at all. It hadn’t taken her long to recognize the incident as a major wake-up call.
Jolie sighed and stabbed at the remains of a piece of cheesecake. Saturday night she’d made a vow to live with courage, to do something outrageous every day and get a life, but so far fate seemed to be testing her. Getting a life was proving to be harder than she imagined.
Glumly she watched the sunset paint the sky with streaks of orange and purple behind Winslow’s Garage across the street and tried to ignore the diner’s other customers, who watched her with open curiosity.
The smell of fried onions hung in the warm air, and the waitresses wore pink nylon uniforms with their name tags pinned over a fan of starched hankie. Ever since her car had been towed into Billings, Montana, Jolie had the strangest feeling she had entered a time warp.
She heard the door to the diner slap closed and looked up to see a blond version of the Marlboro Man talking to her waitress. Her breath caught in her chest as she fumbled her fork.
Over six feet tall, he had the wardrobe and the build of the icon plastered all over magazines. His broad shoulders filled out a worn sheepskin jacket, and his long legs were covered by blue jeans. He took off his cowboy hat and ran a broad hand through sun-bleached blond hair.
She exhaled a sigh of pleasure. He was eye candy at its finest.
He nodded at the cashier and smiled, displaying a set of even white teeth. Tanned skin crinkled at the corners of his deep-blue eyes, and a dimple dented one cheek. Drop-dead gorgeous, the man looked like a Hollywood version of the perfect cowboy.
The words hunk and babe drifted through her mind as she openly stared at the man, unable to look away.
He needed a shave. The stubble on his chin made him look even more masculine. She could imagine the rasp a beard like that would make against her skin.
Now she liked Montana even more than she had a moment ago. Feeling warm all over, she had to remind herself she’d sworn off men.
He glanced over and caught her gawking, open-mouthed. Jolie bent her head over her newspaper so her hair would hide her face.
Embarrassed to be caught gaping at a stranger, Jolie stared down at the want ads she had already read twice, then turned her head and dared a peek through a curtain of hair.
The cowboy walked past her with enough of a swagger to convince her he had just gotten off a horse, and took a seat at a booth in the rear of the diner.
Jolie dared one more glance in his direction, then turned her attention back to her problems. She needed a job, she told herself firmly, not a man who had the potential to star in a woman’s fantasies.
She tried to ignore the man and think about her situation. Just outside of Billings, a deer had bounded across the highway. Swerving to avoid the animal, Jolie had skidded across the shoulder of the road and run into a telephone pole.
She could almost hear her father scolding her. Jolie, he would say, as if she were still sixteen years old, never swerve to avoid an animal.
Easy enough to say when you didn’t have Bambi looking at you with those big startled eyes.
An hour ago, as she’d brushed the fine white dust that had exploded out of her car’s air bag off her silk shirt, the mechanic at Winslow’s had told her it might take three weeks to get the parts he needed for the repairs to her car.
His exact words had been, “Don’t stock parts for these foreign jobs” in a tone implying she’d broken some kind of law in Montana by driving a car made in Germany.
Now what was she supposed to do? Her car was wrecked, her father had cancelled her credit cards, and her Aunt Rosie was off backpacking somewhere in New York state.
Jolie struggled to think positively and come up with a solution to her problem. Collision coverage would take care of the car, but the deductible she’d had to pay the mechanic to order parts and start work had left her with a measly fifteen dollars.
She refused to call her father in Seattle for help. He’d predicted this trip would be a disaster and forbidden her to go. She’d left anyway, disobeying him for the first time in her life.
Most children rebelled against their parents when they were in their midteens. Jolie had waited until she was almost twenty-five years old.
She should’ve stood up to her father a lot sooner. Because she always went along with whatever he wanted just to keep the peace, she’d almost ended up married to a man she didn’t love.
How could she prove to herself she could be independent if she ran to her father for help at the first sign of trouble? Besides, she was still furious with him for cancelling her credit cards to try to keep her from leaving.
She had called New York and left a message for Aunt Rosie that she’d been delayed, but Rosie wasn’t due back from her trip until Sunday.
Rosie’s newest man must be the outdoorsy type. She tried to picture her chic aunt in a pair of boots and a backpack, but couldn’t come up with the image.
Jolie propped the heels of her Ferragamo flats on her suitcase and traced the outline of the state on the plastic place mat. She had no option but to stay right here in Billings and wait for the car.
She needed a job.
Jolie had planned to look for employment when she returned from her visit with her aunt, but it looked like her first work experience would be right here.
Watching the waitress stop at the next table to pour coffee, Jolie figured she could manage to wait tables. That would pay enough to cover her expenses until her car was ready. True, she had never served food, but she had planned parties and supervised caterers for her father often enough.
“More coffee, hon?” The waitress’s name tag identified her as Helen.
“No, thanks. But I do need a job. Are there any openings here?”
Helen laughed, then her eyes narrowed and slid over Jolie’s designer clothes, lingering on her gold jewelry. “Harry hasn’t hired anybody in over fifteen years. The only reason I got the job is ’cause I’m his sister-in-law.”
So much for the idea of waiting tables, Jolie thought.
Helen still hovered over her, staring. “What’s your name?”
“Jolie Carleton.”
Helen nodded. “Howdy, Jolie. Might be we could find something for you close by. You ever wait tables?”
“No.” She’d never had a job.
Helen raised one thinly plucked eyebrow. “Been a short-order cook?”
“No.” Jolie felt her spirits drop another notch.
“Any cashier experience?”
Only from the customer’s side. “No.”
“Well, honey, what have you done?”
By now Jolie figured Helen wouldn’t be impressed with a list of her Junior League projects. “I have a degree in child development. Maybe I could work at a preschool.”
Helen gave her a speculating look. “You ever actually take care of kids, Jolie?”
Finally she could say yes to something. “I’ve taken care of my cousin’s children.”
“How many?” she asked, her voice skeptical.
“Three.”
“How old?”
Why would Helen care how old her cousin’s children were? Jolie felt protective of the children, probably because her cousin was like a barn cat. She had her babies and after a month or two paid no attention to them, resuming her ski trips and visits to friends in Europe.
Reluctantly she said, “Five, three, and a baby.” Jolie hoped this was leading somewhere.
Helen stared for another disconcerting moment, nodded as if she’d come to some kind of decision, then turned abruptly and walked away. Jolie watched her cross the café to the gorgeous cowboy.
Helen and the cowboy held a whispered conversation, glancing frequently back at Jolie. Now, what was that all about?
Knowing she was the subject of their conversation, Jolie didn’t know where to look. She stared down at the newspaper want ads, folded up on the edge of the table.
The toes of two hand-tooled leather cowboy boots appeared in her line of vision. The faint scent of horse and hay curled up to her.
She looked up, pinned in place by the cowboy’s incredible blue eyes. He was no longer smiling, and she could see lines of fatigue on his face. He looked older than she had first thought.
“Ms. Carleton?” His deep voice rolled over her like a fog across Puget Sound.
Startled, Jolie nodded and swallowed. “Yes?”
Griff took a minute to take in the whole package. What the heck was a beautiful woman dressed like her doing in Harry’s Diner? he wondered.
“My name’s Griff Price. I have a proposition for you.”
He didn’t miss the way her big brown eyes widened at his choice of words, and in spite of his foul mood he suppressed a smile.
“How do you do, Mr. Price?” Her speech was careful and polite, her expression wary.
Sleek and sophisticated, she reminded him of a Thoroughbred horse. Generations of carefully chosen bloodlines came together to produce a woman this magnificent. Good bone structure, sleek hair, clear eyes, fine skin and good muscle tone didn’t happen by accident.
He was pretty good at sizing up women. He’d learned the hard way. She didn’t look like a baby-sitter.
She looked like trouble.
But Griff was desperate. He had just acquired a nephew he hadn’t even known existed, and his housekeeper, Margie, was leaving to take care of her sick sister for at least two weeks.
“Helen tells me you’ve had experience taking care of children.” She nodded and continued to stare at him with those big chocolate-brown eyes.
It was hard to believe, looking at her. She had city and society written all over her, and he wanted no part of either. She had the look of his ex-wife. Expensive. Deirdre would never willingly take a job as a caregiver. She had been a taker, not a giver.
Women like Ms. Carleton didn’t belong in Montana. This country was harsh, and it would chew you up and spit you out if you weren’t as tough as old saddle leather.
Glancing nervously at Helen, who hovered two booths away, she cleared her throat and said, “Yes.”
Griff barely remembered his question and realized he’d been staring at her. He also noticed Helen had hung around to listen, wiping up an already immaculate tabletop. Gossip was first on the menu at Harry’s.
Griff turned his attention back to Ms. Carleton. “Helen also mentioned you’re looking for work.”
He rubbed at his temple, trying to dispel the headache that had blindsided him on the way to town.
Looking uneasy, she glanced at Helen again, then back to him. Finally she nodded, looking as jumpy as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.
He’d bet a week’s wages she was running away from something. Women like her always left when things got tough. He knew that from experience. First his mother had run, then his wife.
But, he reminded himself grimly as he watched the way her small smooth hand toyed nervously with a gold chain necklace, he didn’t have much choice. And Helen had said she had cared for her cousin’s children. Unlike his wife, she must have a sense of family, and to Griff that meant something.
“I need a live-in baby-sitter for a few weeks.” He watched her absorb that information.
Deirdre had run off two years ago with his brother. Until three weeks ago when Social Services had called about his nephew, Riley, he’d known nothing about the baby, or Deirdre and his brother’s deaths.
She brightened a little. “Live in?”
“Yes, ma’am. I live a ways out of town.” He knew her car had been wrecked and there was no way he could take the time to drive her back and forth to town every day.
“I see.” She continued to twist up the gold necklace that hung down over her full breasts. Little lines of concentration furrowed her brow.
“I’ve got a ranch to run.” He tapped the toe of his boot against the linoleum, anxious to be on his way. He still had hours of work to do before his day would end.
Griff couldn’t stay home with Riley. The ranch took up all his time, even when things were going smoothly. And things had not been smooth for quite a while.
Right now he had fence down in two spots. God knew how many head had wandered into the coulees. It could take days to find them all. His main stock tank had sprung a leak sometime in the past few days, and he had to get it fixed or spend hours hauling water. And just to round things out, the weatherman was predicting a hard, early winter.
Worst of all, he missed his dad with a fierce ache in the belly. He wanted the old man beside him, quietly reassuring him that everything would work out.
Griff yanked his wandering thoughts back to the problem at hand. He stared at Miss Carleton, squirming on the red vinyl seat. No one had answered his advertisement, and Margie was leaving this afternoon.
He was desperate, but he wasn’t a fool. She was all wrong for the job, but he needed time to find a permanent baby-sitter. Margie had made it very clear from the day the baby arrived she was a housekeeper and hadn’t hired on to raise kids. This woman could do the job for the short term, to buy himself some time.
“We need someone for a couple of weeks.” He watched her as she considered his offer, and wondered if she would last even a week.
She nodded hesitantly. “Okay.”
He felt a spurt of relief. He’d be damned if he’d explain more to her here. Everyone in the diner had an ear turned toward their conversation. Any conversation he had with her here would be all over town in minutes. He’d been the topic of their gossip enough to last him the rest of his life.
If she had questions, they could talk in the truck. He didn’t want Billings chewing on his personal business again.
On the way back to the ranch he would tell her only what she would need to know to do the job. She was a stranger who would be in and out of his life. She didn’t need to know why Riley was living with him. His brother’s betrayal and death cut deeply into his soul, and he didn’t plan on sharing it.
Griff pushed his dark thoughts away. It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on. Every time he saw his nephew he was reminded of the fact his wife had run off with his brother. She had refused to have Griff’s child, but obviously hadn’t felt that way about his brother.
Apparently, Jolie thought as she watched him press his fingers to his forehead, even though he’d offered her a job, she hadn’t made a very good first impression.
She hadn’t missed how he had emphasized the fact that the position came with a time limit. That was fine with her; all she needed was a temporary position.
Jolie was not going to react to the annoyed expression on Mr. Price’s face as he stared at her. How often had she caved in to her overbearing father when he had scowled at her like that?
Courage, Jolie, she told herself.
Helen knew Griff Price, and she must think it was okay for Jolie to work for him or she wouldn’t have suggested it. She cleared her throat and was about to suggest he sit down and have a cup of coffee.
“Well, are you coming?” The sole of his boot slapped impatiently against the worn flooring.
She did want the job, but found it easier to say she was going to live with courage, harder to actually do it. “Yes, let’s—”
“Come on, it’s late,” he said gruffly, cutting her off.
He jammed his hat back on his head. Then in one fluid movement he picked up her jacket, tossed it to her, lifted her suitcase, turned and strode out of the diner.
Dumbfounded, she watched him disappear into the twilight with her bag.
He might be one of the best-looking men she had ever met, but he had the manners of a boor.
Hurriedly she slid out of her seat, pulled four dollars out of her precious hoard, then slapped the bills down on the table. Exasperated by his rude behavior, Jolie approached Helen, who was setting a nearby table.
“Excuse me, but do you know Mr. Price very well?”
Helen smiled and nodded. “Sure do. I went to high school with his daddy. He comes from a fine family. Prices been running the Circle P spread for almost a hundred years.”
Jolie looked uncertainly at the door. “He didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions,” she said, more to herself than Helen.
Helen smiled. “Oh, don’t worry—”
“You coming or not?” Everyone in the diner turned as Griff Price stuck his head in the door and hollered at her, cutting off what Helen was about to say. Then he left without waiting for her to answer.
Jolie felt the blood rise in her cheeks. She’d made him angry.
Helen gave Jolie a gentle push toward the door. “That boy’s always in a hurry. Margie will fill you in when you get to his place. She’s going to visit her sick sister, but you can talk to her before she leaves.”
So that was why he needed a baby-sitter, Jolie thought as she followed him out the door, her stomach tied in knots at the thought she’d annoyed him. His wife was leaving.
On her way out she hurriedly summed up what she knew about the man, still trying to decide if going with him was a reasonable plan.
He was married, from a good family and offering a job she knew she could do. She had decided to live with courage and do something outrageous every day. Now it seemed as though she was going to be put to the test.
Besides, Jolie thought, her other choice was to bed down in her car in Winslow’s garage.
She assured herself if she didn’t feel comfortable with the situation when she got to their home, she’d ask Margie Price to bring her back to the diner.
By the time Jolie got to the parking lot, he was at the passenger door hefting her bag into the back seat of the biggest pickup truck Jolie had ever seen. She stopped about five feet from the cowboy.
He pointed at the open door. “Get in. I’ve got stock to tend to.”
Taken aback by his abrupt behavior, Jolie inched toward the truck. “Don’t you want references?” she asked.
Not that she could give him any work references, but it seemed like a good question to ask before they got too far out of town.
He stared at her for a moment. “No. Is there some good reason you’re stalling?”
“No, I—”
“You told Helen you’d taken care of your family’s kids,” he said cutting her off and frowning at her as if he thought she might have lied to him.
“Yes, I did,” she said, not quite knowing how she should respond to his lack of courtesy. She shivered as the cold evening air penetrated her thin blouse.
“Good,” he answered, with such a tone of relief in his voice she relaxed a little. “You do want the job, don’t you?” he asked, still staring, his tone back to edgy.
Jolie paused for another moment to shrug into her jacket, then decided she was being foolish to hesitate. “Yes, I do.”
Her other choices sucked.
“Okay.” He took two strides to get to her, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and set her on the seat.
Breathless at the suddenness of his bold action and the feel of his hands on her, she scrambled to get her feet in before he closed the door on them.
She took a deep breath and watched him stride around to the driver’s door, hop in, then turn the key in the ignition. The truck’s engine started with a roar.
He muttered something under his breath and pulled out of the parking lot while she was still struggling to find her seat belt. Holding the shoulder strap, Jolie dug down behind the seat to locate the buckle.
Suddenly his big warm hand slid along her hip and fished the fastener out from behind the seat.
She felt a zing of sensation where he’d touched her, then immediately chided herself.
He was married.
And she had sworn off men.
She murmured a quick thank-you. Hoping he couldn’t see her face flush, she managed to connect the two ends of the belt.
The silence in the cab grew until Jolie couldn’t stand it anymore. “Is your home very far?”
He shifted on the seat and shrugged one shoulder. “Nope.”
Jolie waited for more of an explanation, but apparently that was his whole answer. She’d have to try another subject. “Mr. Price, how many children do you have?”
He cleared his throat. “Griff.”
Jolie turned to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“My name is Griff. There’s one child.”
Jolie nodded and waited for him to give her more information. He stared straight ahead at the road.
Her annoyance grew until after a few moments she decided one of them needed to show some manners, so she tried again. “Griff, is your child a boy or a girl?”
“Boy.”
Jolie struggled to hold on to her temper. He acted like she was charging him by the word. “How old is your son?”
He started to answer when a ringing phone interrupted them.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled a cellular phone out of his shirt pocket.
Turning her head just a little, Jolie studied him in the gathering gloom. His expression darkened as he listened intently to whoever was on the other end of the line.
Scowling, he glanced at the clock set in the dashboard. “When?” he barked into the phone, tightening his grip on the instrument.
His intensity made her uncomfortable. The man certainly didn’t believe in wasting time on conversation. Or manners. Jolie was accustomed to polite small talk, no matter how meaningless.
“Take care of that now.” He barked into the phone.
Jolie shifted her gaze to stare out the window at the empty country and the sapphire sky as she listened to his one-word questions and answers. The landscape that had seemed beautiful and wild a few hours ago now appeared barren. She fought down the urge to ask him to take her back to the diner.
Don’t be a fool, she thought. She was going to be courageous. Besides, she didn’t have any options. She was starting to realize how easy her life had been when she’d let others make her decisions for her.
She chanted her new mantra to herself. Courage, I live with courage. And because of that courage, she had her first job. She had wanted to work right after college, but her father had always had a reason she should wait. A trip, a charity ball to organize, overseeing the redecoration of the house.
Griff turned off the main road. She glanced at him and decided she wouldn’t let a little surliness get her down. She’d just have to work on those clever comebacks that always occurred to her an hour after she needed them.
She could see a house in the distance, sitting on a broad expanse of open plain. The huge building behind the house was probably a barn. Didn’t ranches have barns?
She thought of a dozen questions, but when she glanced at Griff, who stabbed at the power button on his phone as if he was killing a venomous insect, she decided not to waste her breath.
She’d talk to Mrs. Price.
As he parked behind a small, battered, blue compact car, Jolie stared at the enchanting yellow-and-white Victorian house, complete with wraparound porch and gabled roof, and hid a smile.
The big sour cowboy who had driven her in from Billings did not belong in such an enchanting home. It looked too feminine and had too much charm. His wife must be a lovely woman.
Without a word he opened the driver’s door and climbed out, then hauled her suitcase out of the back.
Jolie opened her door and slid out of the truck, following Griff up the front steps. She stepped through the open door and almost bumped into an old woman in the entry hall.
The woman jammed an ancient black pillbox hat with torn netting over her gray hair while she scolded Griff Price. “About time you got back. Now I got to drive in the dark.”
She thrust a lethal-looking hat pin through the battered crown of her hat and glared up at him.
She glanced at Jolie. “Baby’s asleep.” Without saying another word, she headed out the door.
Baby? For some reason Jolie had pictured an older child. She watched the woman march down the steps and get in the blue car.
By this time Jolie was not the least bit surprised not to get an introduction.
Just as the old woman was closing her car door, Griff hollered down to her. “Hey, Margie, did that feed supplier call?”
Jolie spun around to stare at Griff Price. That was Margie?

Chapter Two
So much for making assumptions, Jolie thought. Obviously Margie was not Griff Price’s wife.
Jolie tore her surprised look away from Griff and looked back to see Margie, driving like someone qualifying for the Indy 500, head out to the main road in a cloud of dust.
Not meeting her eye, Griff took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “She was in a hurry.”
Jolie choked back a sarcastic remark. He turned to go back out the door, as if that was all the information Jolie needed.
Was he just going to leave her standing here? She stepped in front of him, grabbing the sleeve of his sheepskin jacket, blocking his path. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”
He stared at her for a moment with those sky-blue eyes, then shook her hand off his arm and ran his hands tiredly over his face. “I told you. I have stock that needs tending.”
Confused, Jolie looked around. “Is your wife here?”
His face hardened into a scowl. “No wife.”
Jolie’s hand dropped to her side, and she eyed the big cowboy. Now a few of the pieces of the puzzle that hadn’t made sense fell into place.
She suspected she knew why he was acting so rude. His wife had left him with their child. He was hurting and he covered it up with anger. How many times had she watched her father do the same thing?
“I’m sorry.” It sounded trite, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Don’t be.” He said curtly and shrugged one shoulder as if he wanted her to think it didn’t bother him. Abruptly he turned toward the stairs. “I’ll show you the baby’s room.”
She followed him, her heels clicking on the bare wood of the stairs. He stopped at an open door and gestured for her to go ahead of him.
The only light in the room came from the hall. Jolie could see a crib in the corner and assumed Griff’s son was asleep. Then, as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she saw movement in the small bed.
Jolie turned to ask Griff the child’s name, and the words died on her lips.
He was gone.
He had left her standing alone in the doorway, with no information about his son. Jolie felt the outrage grow inside her.
How could he leave her standing here without even bothering to give her the baby’s name? Angry or not, the man needed to pull himself together for the sake of his child.
Jolie flipped the light switch. The baby boy sat quietly in the corner of his crib, staring at her, his big blue eyes blinking against the sudden light. He had a head of blond curls and was going to grow up to look just like his daddy.
Jolie hoped he ended up with a better disposition.
“Well hello there, little guy,” she said.
Staying where she was for a moment, she smiled at the child, afraid to approach too quickly and frighten him. She knew some babies were afraid of strangers.
He was about the size of her cousin’s youngest child, so she guessed he must be about ten months old. “Did you just wake up?”
Jolie took her jacket off and laid it over the back of a chair. “My name is Jolie.”
Slowly she moved into the middle of the room, then stopped about five feet from the battered crib. “I don’t know your name because your daddy had to leave in a hurry.” And he’s a handsome, rude man, she added to herself.
The baby sat motionless, staring at her with his big blue eyes.
“So this is your room. I don’t know where I’m supposed to sleep.” The baby’s room contained just the crib, an old wooden dresser and a single bed with a bare mattress.
No toys or stuffed animals littered the room. Griff’s housekeeper must be a very tidy woman. “Where’s all your stuff?”
The baby didn’t move or change his facial expression at her inane conversation. He just continued to stare at her. She moved a little closer to the bed and watched him watching her.
“Are you ready to get up?” Jolie had no idea if he was waking from a nap, or had been put down for the night. She took another step toward the bed, feeling as though she was in the middle of a one-person, red-light-green-light game.
When he showed no signs of being alarmed by her presence, Jolie moved all the way to the bars of the crib. He was dressed in a blanket sleeper, and she could tell from where she stood that he needed a fresh diaper.
“How about we get you cleaned up and go find your daddy. I have some things I need to say to him,” she said, not allowing her annoyance to show in her voice.
It wasn’t the baby’s fault that his father had no manners.
She lowered the side of the crib and reached in to get him. He allowed her to pick him up, and when she lifted him up against her chest, he put his head on her shoulder and wound his arms around her neck, then gave what sounded like a little sigh as he nestled into her body.
Jolie felt her heart turn over. In that instant she fell in love with a little boy whose name she didn’t even know.
Jolie sat at the dining room table, her temper simmering just below the boiling point. Holding the quiet baby in her lap with one hand and, with the other, folding clean baby clothes she had discovered in the dryer, she waited for Griff Price to return.
Where was he? Didn’t people who worked on a ranch quit when the sun went down? It had been dark for hours.
She slapped a tiny shirt down on the shiny tabletop. “There’s no excuse for the way he walked out on me,” she said to the baby, careful to use a cheerful conversational tone that masked her feelings.
“Leaving you with a stranger.” Tossing the shirt into the basket, she yanked a faded sleeper out of the small pile.
She kissed the top of his head. “He didn’t say ten words to me on the way here from the diner.”
Jolie took a deep breath, trying to relax, then nuzzled the tumble of clean curls on the baby’s crown. “How does he know I can be trusted with you?”
If he were her little boy she’d never leave him with someone she didn’t know.
She’d given him his bath, fed him, and he was now ready to be put to bed. Together they had explored the house while she’d waited for her employer to return.
No matter how busy Griff claimed to be, the man should have been home early enough to spend some time with his son. She knew from her training nothing mattered more than the early bonding between a parent and child.
That was why she had spent so much time with her cousin’s children when they traveled and left them in the care of their nanny for weeks at a time.
She assumed this little boy’s mother had already deserted him. If she lived nearby, Jolie reasoned, the ex-wife would be caring for her son. Griff wouldn’t have had to hire Jolie.
Jolie’s thoughts shifted to the child she held. She was worried about the baby. He was too quiet.
He didn’t try to crawl, and he didn’t reach for things. He just watched her and clung to her when she picked him up. He didn’t laugh or vocalize in any way.
Maybe it was because she was a stranger. Tomorrow, when he was used to her, he would probably be more active.
She glanced around the dining room. Something was not right about the home environment, either. Earlier, as she’d wandered through the house getting acquainted with the place, she’d felt uneasy.
The wonderful old Victorian was clean and extremely tidy, but there were no homey touches, no warmth. Nothing that hinted at the people who lived here. As if the clutter of everyday life, the things that told something about the residents, was not allowed to accumulate.
It bothered her. Not for Griff Price’s sake. Whatever had made him such a closed-off grouch was his problem. Jolie’s concern was all for the baby she held in her arms.
As she waited, she smoothed her hand over the little boy’s fuzzy blanket sleeper and enjoyed the weight and warmth of him as he settled back against her lap. “I have some questions for your daddy.”
He turned his head and looked up at her with his big blue eyes. “I don’t even know your name.” Jolie stroked the soft skin of his little cheek.
“I’m not even sure where your daddy wants me to sleep.” She stroked his cheek again, and his eyelids blinked sleepily.
There was a bedroom next to the baby’s room, but she didn’t want to presume. After glancing into bedrooms, she couldn’t even tell which room Griff slept in. Her suitcase still sat at the bottom of the stairs in the entryway.
Jolie turned the baby so he lay in the crook of her arm, and confided her anxiety at facing Griff Price with her questions. “Confrontation has never been my strong suit.”
She chanted her new mantra for him. “I live with courage. Catchy, isn’t it? For the next few weeks I’m going to take care of you, even if it means getting in your daddy’s face.”
Jolie discarded the idea Griff thought her so efficient she didn’t need any guidelines. She suspected he had simply not bothered to tell her.
Did he expect her to do other work besides caring for the baby? There was no evidence of an evening meal. In fact, there was little food in the refrigerator. Before discovering baby clothes in the dryer, she wondered what the little guy would wear tomorrow.
The baby’s head nodded against her arm, and she turned him and hoisted him up against her shoulder. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, his little body relaxed as he slid into sleep. She stroked his back and fell a little more in love with him.
The longer Griff Price took to come home, the madder she got.
She continued to rub the baby’s back. If she wasn’t desperate for a job and a place to stay, she would demand he take her back to town the minute he walked in the door.
As soon as she had the thought she realized she was kidding herself. She couldn’t leave until she straightened this man out about the way he was raising his son.
His cows seemed to mean more to him than his child.
Griff Price’s behavior was inexcusable.
The back door slammed, jerking her out of her thoughts. She looked up and spotted Griff coming through the door that led to the mudroom. He stopped at the kitchen sink, his broad back to her.
Jolie got up, holding the sleeping baby on her shoulder as she strode into the kitchen to give the man a piece of her mind.
He stood, his tall frame hunched over the sink, washing his hands. In the short time since she had met him she had forgotten what a big man he was.
He turned to look at her, surprise plain on his face. “Evening.”
Had he forgotten she was in the house? She cleared her throat and said in a low voice, “Actually, it’s past evening.”
He stared at her for a moment, then his glance slid briefly over his son, as if trying to place who they were. Finally he looked past her, over her shoulder.
What was he doing, checking the dark house to see if there was anyone else there he might have forgotten?
Jolie took a deep breath and reached for her courage, determined to pin him down. “Mr. Price, I have some questions I need answered now.”
His expression became shuttered so quickly she blinked at the change in him.
He shifted his glance away from her face. “Okay. I’m listening.” He picked a towel up off the counter to dry his hands.
Jolie put a protective hand up to cradle the sleeping child’s head, as if contact with the baby could keep her focused on what she planned to say to him. “You left without telling me the baby’s name or anything about him.”
“His name is Riley.” Griff seemed to be searching his mind for something else to say. “He’s ten months old.”
She watched him focus on something behind her again, and his shoulders slumped in a defeated movement as he leaned his hips against the cabinet. “You’re leaving.”
Jolie glanced over her shoulder and saw that he stared at her suitcase. “Oh, no. I’m staying. My suitcase is there because you didn’t bother to tell me which room is mine.”
She couldn’t leave.
Not just because she didn’t have any money.
Griff Price needed her, whether he realized it or not. And for a lot more than changing his son’s diapers. His expression told her how badly he thought he needed her, and he didn’t know the half of it.
No one had ever needed Jolie before, not like this.
She would stay, not for him, but for the precious little boy asleep in her arms. She hadn’t missed the fact he hadn’t taken even a moment to ask after his child.
“We need to talk.” She suspected before long he would regret he hadn’t taken her back to town tonight.
Griff let out a sigh as he watched the stubborn set of Jolie Carleton’s sweet little chin. Still fighting his headache, he thought sourly, was there a phrase he hated more than we need to talk?
He eyed the beautiful, frazzled-looking woman standing there holding his nephew. In the few hours since he had met her he had tried to forget what a fine-looking woman she was.
Griff eyed the set of her jaw and knew before the words were out of his mouth he would regret asking. “About what?”
Her lovely mouth dropped open as if he had asked an astounding question. She caught herself gaping at him and closed her jaw with a snap of perfect white teeth.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced down at Riley, then hissed at Griff. “About your responsibilities, Mr. Price.”
Well, he had a million of those, that was for sure. “What responsibilities would those be?”
Her pale fine skin flushed. “This baby!”
She was no longer trying to keep her voice down. Riley jerked awake, his head coming off her shoulder.
Griff didn’t want to talk about his nephew. Not tonight. If she had just kept her voice down, Riley would still be asleep.
He skewered her with a look designed to intimidate. “Wrong, Ms. Carleton. I hired you to take care of Riley. He’s your responsibility.”
Griff turned away from the dumbfounded look on her face, crossed through the house to the stairs and picked up her bag.
He didn’t want to explain anything. Talking about the baby would lead to talking about his wife and his brother. That was a subject he didn’t plan to cover, especially with a stranger.
He needed some aspirin and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow would be another too-full day. He’d still be out on the range tonight if the moon hadn’t set.
As he got to the top of the stairs he heard her determined footsteps just behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and held back another sigh as he watched her march up the stairs.
She looked like a woman with a mission. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she hadn’t liked his answer.
That scowl he had used on her downstairs worked on his hired hands but didn’t seem to phase Jolie Carleton.
Save me from crusading females, Griff thought as he put her suitcase just inside the door of the bedroom next to the baby’s room. He straightened up and braced himself for another round.
She sailed past him without a word, stepped into Riley’s room and closed the door firmly behind her.
Surprised to find, in spite of his headache, he was a little disappointed she hadn’t faced him down again, he stood and stared at the closed door.
He had no intention of telling her about Deirdre or Jake, but he had enjoyed the flush on her cheeks and the flash of anger that ruffled her composed exterior.
In the diner she had come across as cool and collected. With all that temper simmering below the surface, she might prove to be more passionate than he had first supposed.
Standing out in the hall, he heard her walking back and forth across the bare wood floor, murmuring to Riley.
Griff continued to stare at the closed door as he wondered what it would be like to peel the fragile silk of her blouse off and see all that fine pale skin turn rosy with arousal. His body reacted to the thought, and he smiled.
This just might turn out to be an interesting couple of weeks.
He could hear her through the door, still muttering to the baby. Griff rubbed his hand over the tired muscles of his neck. He was pretty sure the discussion regarding his responsibilities wasn’t over.
When a woman said she wanted to talk to a man, it meant she talked until she got the man to agree.
Tired as he was, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow night.

Chapter Three
After spending less than twenty-four hours with Riley, Jolie was concerned about the little guy. Maybe he was coming down with something, but he was too quiet.
She needed to talk to Griff tonight. It was already well past dark and Griff Price had not returned to the house. He had left before she’d awakened this morning. Now Riley was almost ready for bed, so that meant a whole day with no contact between father and son.
She suspected Griff was staying away so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.
It was her fault. She should have stayed calm last night instead of closing the door in his face, but she had been so angry she would have said things he wasn’t ready to hear.
He thought the baby was her responsibility. His announcement had told her a lot. Could he actually think he didn’t need to have contact with his son at this point in the child’s life? That a temporary baby-sitter could take the place of both parents?
Into a bowl she put fresh greens from the garden outside the mudroom and glanced down at Riley, who sat quietly on an old towel in the middle of the kitchen floor.
Although Riley watched her all the time, he didn’t make sounds or smile. Jolie knew his eyesight and hearing were okay, she had given him some basic tests and he had responded by following her movements and turning to sounds.
She put the greens aside and took two wooden spoons out of a crock by the stove, placing them on the towel beside the baby.
“Pick them up, Riley. They’re for you. It’s okay to touch them.” She smiled at him, encouraging him with a nod of her head.
Riley looked at the spoons, then back up at her. He didn’t reach for the utensils, just continued to watch her.
She waited for a few moments, and when he didn’t move, she found a set of metal measuring spoons in a drawer, gave them a shake so they all clanked together, then laid them beside the other spoons.
“Don’t they make a fun noise?” she cooed, and bent over him, giving them another shake. “Take them.”
As she dangled the spoons, his gaze lingered for a moment longer on them, then returned to her face. This time she noticed his fingers opened and closed, but he still didn’t reach out.
She laid them down on the towel beside him. “When you’re ready, you pick them up.”
As Jolie returned to dinner preparation, the suspicion that something might be wrong emotionally with Riley tore at her heart.
She had no idea how to tell Griff that she suspected a problem. Her greatest apprehension was that Griff might not care. Could he be that detached from his own child? Or did he already suspect that something might be wrong, and he couldn’t accept a less than perfect child?
She wasn’t trained for this. She needed to take Riley to a pediatrician and get a professional opinion. Babies his age, normal babies, had only two speeds. Full tilt or sound asleep. They explored everything with insatiable curiosity.
Jolie’s hands stilled and she realized she had slipped back into her old way of thinking. There were things she could do, if she had the courage.
For instance, there were no toys in the house, no bright mobiles or wall hangings in his room to catch Riley’s interest.
When she stayed with her cousin’s children, sometimes it took an hour for her and the nanny to pick up their toys and games, even when the maid pitched in.
Perhaps Riley’s problem was a lack of stimulation in his environment. Most children formed an attachment to a special blanket or stuffed toy they had dragged around everywhere they went. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t have anything.
The only time she got any reaction from Riley was when she picked him up. Then he clung to her like a limpet on a rock at the shoreline. The feel of his little hands grabbing her almost broke her heart.
The back door slammed and Griff came into the kitchen through the mudroom.
Riley watched Griff come in, but showed no reaction.
At the other extreme, her pulse leaped at the sight of him. Annoyed at the purely physical reaction the man evoked in her, she smacked the metal bowl down on the counter harder than she had intended.
He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in question. Then his eyes slid slowly over her apron, eyeing her as if she were wearing a lacy item from Victoria’s Secret instead of the ancient faded smock she’d found in a drawer.
Every nerve ending in her body seemed to tingle.
Flustered by his perusal and her reaction, she met his gaze. Courage, she thought, have courage.
She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.
Her ex-fiancé used to do that to get her off a subject he didn’t care to pursue. But Charles had never been able to derail her with just a look.
Jolie shivered. Those blue eyes of his made her stomach do little flip-flops.
“Evening.” He held her eye for another disarming moment, then glanced down briefly at Riley before turning to the sink. He didn’t speak to his son.
“Good evening.” She kept her tone light and tried to keep her mind on the discussion she intended to have with him during dinner.
He had on a denim shirt that pulled across his shoulders as he reached to turn on the water. The color made his blue eyes even bluer. Deeply tanned skin made his hair looked gilded in the bright kitchen light.
In spite of how good he looked, Jolie didn’t miss the fact that lines of fatigue, so apparent yesterday, had deepened around his eyes and mouth.
Jolie watched the baby as Griff finished washing up. Riley displayed only a simple curiosity at the new person who had entered his presence. No smiles or squeals of happiness at seeing a familiar face, no anticipation of attention.
Griff had shown no interest in the child beyond a cursory glance.
They acted as if they were strangers.
Jolie felt a moment of panic. She wasn’t qualified to deal with this situation. How could she get Griff and Riley together?
Courage, she told herself sternly, you live with courage. You may not have the training for this, but you’re all they have to save them.
When she had vowed to have courage and do something outrageous every day, she had never considered taking on something as complicated as repairing the damaged relationship between a man and his son.
She had thought more along the lines of working up the nerve to get a tattoo in a place no one else would see.
The daunting task of fixing this parent-child relationship made the thought of decorating her hip with a small tattoo seem too trivial to think about.
But, she reminded herself, she was all this man and his son had. Jolie didn’t see Griff as the kind of person who would go looking for help.
She was pretty sure he didn’t know he needed help.
She was absolutely sure he wouldn’t want her help.
But, she told herself, you’ve dealt with your own father all these years. They didn’t come much more difficult than Richard Carleton.
The key here was for Griff to think that becoming more involved with Riley was really his idea. Jolie could be very underhanded if it meant a better life for the baby.
She plastered a smile on her mouth, turned and faced Griff as he rinsed the soap off his hands. “Dinner is almost ready.”
She didn’t miss his suspicious look.
Jolie lifted two plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.
He watched her for a moment, then said, “I have to make two calls, then I’m going back out.”
Concentrating his gaze on the towel, he acted as if the task of drying his hands required his full attention.
She wasn’t going to let him get away, not now, while she was having a hard time holding on to her resolve.
Forcing herself to adopt a reasonable tone, she phrased her response as a question. “You can take time to eat, can’t you?”
He stared at her while he seemed to consider his answer. “Will it be ready in ten minutes?” he asked in a wary voice.
“Yes.” She’d make sure of it. He was trying to put distance between them and she needed to get started on him.
She only had two weeks.
“Ring the bell.” He gestured to a round metal contraption with a pull chain set high on the kitchen wall.
Then he stepped around Riley as if the baby were a piece of furniture, and left the kitchen without sparing a word for his son.
Jolie stood staring at the empty door frame, unable to believe what had just happened. He hadn’t even taken a moment to pat his son on the head.
Griff Price had to be the most aggravating person she had ever encountered. It was as if he refused to have any more human contact than was absolutely necessary.
She suspected if she suggested they work out a series of signals with the bell so that they wouldn’t have to talk to each other he’d like the idea.
How could Riley thrive in this atmosphere? She scooped the baby off the floor and gave him a fierce hug as he nestled into her arms.
“Don’t worry,” she said into his curls, “I’m not leaving until he realizes how precious you are. And what you need,” she added, hoping keeping the promise wouldn’t take more courage than she possessed.
Jolie rocked him in her arms for a few more moments and crooned silly endearments, then put him back down.
If she didn’t have dinner ready, Griff would leave and she would miss a chance to talk to him. Hurrying through the preparation, she finished up and tugged on the bell chain.
The loud clang made her jump.
What an annoying noise, she thought as she pulled out her chair and sat.
Griff slid into his chair and forked a bite off the plate of fresh greens topped by a broiled, sliced chicken breast. After a few bites he said, “This is good. What’s for dinner?”
She thought he must be kidding, but so far she hadn’t seen him display a glimpse of a sense of humor. “This is dinner.”
“Is there any more?” He looked at her with a hopeful expression.
Jolie shook her head. “No. Sorry.”
What was wrong with her? She should have realized a man who worked outside all day would need more than a salad for dinner. She pushed a basket of bread toward him.
At least he was talking. If they had to start with food, that was fine with her. “What kind of food do you like for dinner?”
He thought for a minute. “Steak. The chest freezer in the mudroom is full.”
Of course he would like beef. He grew them, didn’t he? She hadn’t looked in the chest freezer that took up half of one wall.
The top of the appliance was piled with newspapers and bags of empty beer cans. Her hands had been full with Riley and she hadn’t taken the time to clear it off so she could check inside. She had discovered the ice-incrusted package of chicken breasts in the freezer section of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
“We need to talk about Riley.” Jolie laid her fork on her plate.
He glanced down at the baby, who stared back at him. “What about him?”
Jolie started with something small and worked her way up. “He doesn’t have any toys.”
Griff shrugged. “Isn’t he too young for toys?”
“Not at all. He needs things to help develop his hand-eye coordination.”
He frowned and threw her a skeptical look, then shrugged.
Jolie groped around for something else to say to keep him talking to her. “And he has very few clothes.”
His features tightened up. “Can you drive a stick shift?”
“Yes.” She noted the change in his expression and wondered if money was a problem for him.
She’d gladly charge everything the baby needed, but the only thing her credit cards were good for now was scraping gum off the bottom of her shoe.
He waved his hand. “Take the truck and get what he needs.”
Embarrassed to ask, she saw no alternative. “I’ll need money.”
He rolled on his hip and worked his wallet out of a back pocket, pulled out a handful of bills and put the money in the middle of the table.
“What about a baby’s car seat? Do you have one of those?” There hadn’t been one in the truck he had driven last night.
Jolie watched Griff’s features tighten up even more as he shook his head.
Getting answers out of him was a painful process. What did he do, lay the baby on the seat of that big truck of his? She felt a spurt of anger at his disregard for his son’s safety.
He pushed his chair back, and she grabbed his arm to stay him, feeling the hard, warm muscle under the fabric of his shirt. “There’s more I need to say before you leave again.”
She had waited all day to talk to him, and she didn’t have time to put this off.
He looked down at her hand clutching his arm and she felt the hard muscle under her fingers tense. “Hurry up and get it over with. I’ve got work to do.”
Jolie dropped her hand, sorry that she had touched him like that. He obviously didn’t like it.
“I’m worried about Riley.”
Griff looked quickly at the baby, then back at Jolie. “He looks fine to me. Is he sick?”
Jolie took a deep breath. No parent wanted to hear that something might be wrong with their child. She chose her words carefully.
“No. Physically he appears to be fine. But you must have noticed that he doesn’t crawl or reach for things.”
Griff sat very still, studying fingers splayed on his knees. What was he looking for, bamboo strips under his fingernails? she thought sourly. He acted as if he was being tortured.
Finally he glanced up at her and spoke. “Isn’t he too young to do those things?”
“No. He should be reaching and crawling and even pulling himself up to stand.”
Griff rubbed his palms against his blue-jean-clad thighs and stared at Riley.
Jolie waited for him to absorb the information, then asked gently, “What has his pediatrician told you about his development?”
“Pediatrician?” He looked at her blankly.
“Do you take him to your regular doctor?” Maybe he used a family practice doctor.
Griff shrugged, still staring at the baby. “I haven’t taken him to the doctor.”
Jolie was appalled. What about his well-baby checks and vaccinations? “Never?”
“I just got him, okay?”
Jolie’s head jerked up at his rough tone that didn’t quite mask the pain underneath. “What?”
Just got him? It hadn’t occurred to her that Riley might have been living elsewhere. She assumed his ex-wife had left him and the child.
“You heard me.” He clamped his mouth shut so tightly a muscle twitched in his jaw.
She had heard him, and what he said made a big difference. She decided to try another approach. “Look, I know you think I’m prying, but there are things I need to know if I’m going to take care of Riley.”
Agitated, Griff told himself he had wasted too much time eating the rabbit food she passed off as dinner, and he had heard more than enough talk. She may have a degree in some field about children, but she didn’t know what she was talking about.
Dread he didn’t want to face had him standing up so fast his chair tipped over and crashed against the floor.
Furious at himself for reacting to her, he jerked the chair upright and turned on her. “You are prying. There’s nothing wrong with the kid. I hired you to feed him and watch him. That’s all.”
If he didn’t get out of the kitchen he was going to say something he’d regret about her nosy ways. He walked out the door, leaving her with her pretty little mouth hanging open.
Griff stopped in the middle of the yard and ran his hands through his hair. It was a wonder he could keep his temper at all around her. She was a managing kind of female with a body that made him want to weep.
There was nothing wrong with Riley. If there had been, the social worker would have said something.
The problem was her. It had to be her. He couldn’t handle it if it wasn’t.
Exhaustion dragged at him. It would be hours tonight before they finished riding the fence line. He tipped his head back and stared at the stars, just starting to show in the evening sky.
He had awakened several times last night with the thought that she was sleeping just down the hall. Usually when he was working as hard as he had been lately, he slept like a rock.
He was horny, tired and hungry. None of the conditions improved his disposition.
Last night, on his way back to the house, he had decided that he wasn’t going to sleep with her. He had learned the hard way that the hotter his blood ran for a woman, the colder his bed was when she left.
The decision seemed reasonable until he was in the same room with her.
To get his mind off her sweet little body, he thought about what she had said about his nephew.
She was wrong about Riley. The kid was fine. Just quiet, like him.
There was such a thing as too much education, and he suspected that was Jolie Carleton’s problem. She wanted to see things that weren’t there.
Riley had looked okay to Griff, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. The kid didn’t need toys. He didn’t play with the spoons and stuff he had. And if he hadn’t started to crawl yet, that just made her job easier. She didn’t have to chase after him.

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