Raising The Rancher′s Family

Raising The Rancher's Family
Patricia Thayer
New York tycoon Holt Rawlins has ditched his suits, worn in his cowboy boots and pulled his Stetson down low. He's back home to find the truth, not to make friends!That is until beautiful Leah Keenan bursts into his life. She brings with her a small boy who needs their help. And Holt becomes both father and protector. Leah knows that the family they've created isn't real, and soon she'll have to return to her old life. But to leave will break her heart. Will the rugged rancher persuade her to stay?



Raising the Rancher’s Family
Patricia
Thayer




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Becky,
I was the new kid in town,
and you gave me a hand and guided me through.
You were there whenever I called for help….
no matter what the hour. Thanks, friend.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE
SHE was finally home…
Leah Keenan drew a shaky breath as she drove the narrow road that led up the mountain. To the safe haven of Destiny, Colorado, where she’d grown up surrounded by love and the security of her two sisters and their adoptive parents. It had been twenty-seven years since the day when she, Morgan and Paige had been left at the Keenan Inn.
But she wasn’t the same idealistic, fun-loving girl who had left the small town three years ago. The cruelty of the world had managed to change her.
For the past month she’d fought the recurring memories, but with no success. Memories of the Middle East where she’d been photographing the horrors of war for Our World magazine. She’d seen so much horror—the bombs, the gunfire, the death and destruction. She just finished filming the earthquake and seen the hundreds of thousands of homeless.
And, oh God, the children…
At the sound of a horn, Leah swerved just in time to miss the oncoming car. Shaken, she pulled her rental car to the side of the road and shut off the engine. In the silence Leah could hear the sound of her pounding heart. She had to get herself together.
After a few minutes, she climbed out and drew in a breath of clean mountain air. She slowly began to relax as she eyed the familiar area. White Aspen trees lined the road, their new growth and rich green leaves promising spring had arrived in southern Colorado. Her gaze rose to the San Juan Mountain Range, the Rocky terrain blanketed by huge pine trees. At the very top were patches of leftover snow from the previous winter.
Leah smiled, suddenly feeling adventurous. As a kid she’d hiked through these foothills as if they were her backyard, and her daring spirit had driven her parents crazy.
Luckily on her flight from Durango she’d worn her standard work clothes—a cotton blouse, pullover sweater, khaki pants and lace-up boots.
Grabbing her trusty camera off the seat, Leah marched to the fence and a sign that read, No Trespassing. Since the landowner, John Rawlins was a friend, she ignored it. She easily climbed over the wire fence, decided the direction she planned to go and set out on the narrow trail.
Leah made her way through the trees toward the mountainside. A doe appeared in the grove of trees and she paused to snap a picture. The serene beauty of this place helped to soothe her. Eager to reach her destination, she picked up her pace. After another fifty yards, she could hear the sound of water.
In the shade of the trees it grew cool, but she let nothing slow her until she reached the clearing. She stared in awe at the sight and sound of water rushing over the sheer ledge of mountainside into the rocky bottom of the pond below. Years ago, she’d named this special place Hidden Falls. Since adolescence, this had always been her private retreat, her escape where she could daydream.
A sudden movement caught her eye. She glanced toward the base of the falls to find a small child squatting down on a rock and washing in the water. He looked about eight years old, she thought as she snapped a picture of him, then glanced around to look for anyone else in the vicinity. Like a parent.
Not another person in sight.
Leah moved closer and the kid suddenly jerked around and caught sight of her. There was fear in his eyes as he stumbled backward, then regained his footing and took off.
“Hey, wait,” she called after him. “I’m not going to hurt you. Are you lost? I have a phone in the car.”
The kid didn’t stop. He darted through the trees like a mountain lion. Leah followed, but the youngster was too fast. “It’s going to get dark soon,” she yelled, but the boy was gone.
Okay, he so wasn’t going to come to her. Refusing to give up, she continued through the trees as she checked her watch. It was after three o’clock.
“He didn’t even have a jacket,” she murmured, knowing how cold it would get after nightfall.
Then in the distance she spotted a figure on horseback. As he approached she could see he was a large man with a black Stetson pulled low over his face. Suddenly her attention was drawn to the rifle he held across his saddle horn. She suddenly felt fear, something she’d thought she’d left behind.
“Hello, maybe you can help me,” she said a little too breathless. “There’s a boy—”
“You’re trespassing,” he interrupted.
She blinked at his rudeness. “Not really,” she said, trying to recognize the man, but his sandy-brown hair and startling green eyes were unfamiliar. “I know the landowner. I’m more worried about the young boy I saw. I think he might be a runaway.”
“I haven’t seen any kids,” he insisted. To her relief, he slipped the rifle back into the sleeve. “So you need to leave.”
“I said it was okay, I’m Leah Keenan. John Rawlins has let me hike here to take pictures for years.”
“That’s not going to be allowed any longer.”
Leah wasn’t used to people around here being unfriendly. “And why is that?”
“John died about six months ago.” She was close enough to see something flash in his eyes, sadness, vulnerability…
Quick tears stung her eyes. “Oh, no, not John. I didn’t know.” The rancher had been about her father’s age. He was also someone she’d loved and enjoyed seeing and talking to.
“Well, now you do.” He shifted the big gelding and pinned her with startling green eyes. “So you can leave the property.”
“I can’t. There’s still a lost child. He could be hiding out in one of the caves. That could be dangerous.”
“Then I’ll ride around and check it out.”
His offhanded promise didn’t reassure her. “I know where all the caves are around here. I could help you look.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Leah worked hard to hold her temper. “There is no reason to be rude. I’m only worried about the child.”
“That child is trespassing, and so are you. Now leave.”
Her temper got the best of her and she jammed her hands on her hips. “Just who are you?”
“Holt Rawlins.”
Leah’s gaze combed over the shadowed face, and finally recognized the strong jaw and the familiar cleft in his chin. The difference was the sandy-colored hair, and those piercing emerald eyes.
“John’s son,” she whispered. “I didn’t know John had a son.”
A bitter smile creased his wide mouth. “That makes us even. For years I didn’t know I had a father.”

Holt Rawlins slowly followed the intruder on horseback and watched as she made her way to the fence and climbed over it. Leah Keenan got into her car and finally drove off.
He breathed a sigh. The last thing he wanted was another resident of Destiny telling him what a wonderful man John Rawlins was. If the man was so great why hadn’t he seen or spoken to his only son in nearly thirty years?
Holt’s parents’ divorce had been a bitter one. For years his mother had told him that his father was a selfish man, that his family hadn’t mattered as much to him as his precious Silver R Ranch.
With the notification of his father’s death four months ago, Holt had now returned to the place of his birth. To live on the land that rightfully belonged to a Rawlins.
And he was a third generation Rawlins.
He turned the chestnut gelding, Rusty, toward the picturesque waterfall, letting the tranquil sound relax him as he looked through the rows of aspen trees toward the majestic mountain range. Though he was a New Yorker who thrived on the energy of big city life, there was part of him that got a different kind of rush from this place.
He attributed it to the fact that his life was in turmoil right now. He’d ended a long-term relationship with a woman whom he’d thought he wanted to be his wife. His career wasn’t the exciting challenge it once had been. So when the lawyer called and said his father had passed away and left him a ranch, Holt knew he needed to come back. At least to learn about the man who was his father. So far, all he’d discovered was that everyone around here had loved and respected the man. His chest tightened. Then why hadn’t he had time for his only son?
Holt thought back to the numerous birthdays and Christmases when a small boy had waited for a present, or letter. Just a phone call. But there had been nothing…ever.
He pushed aside the memories and glanced toward the road. All evidence was gone of the petite blonde with the big doe eyes. But something in those deep, chocolate depths told him she didn’t give up easily. He doubted he’d seen the last of her, or heard the last praise of a man who to Holt had been no more than a stranger.

Leah drove down two-lane First Street, the main road through town, past the row of buildings that made up the small community of fifteen hundred residents. In the historical town square was the bank, the sheriff’s office, City Hall and the mayor’s office. Leah smiled. The mayor was her older sister, Morgan.
Leah drove past the large tiered fountain that spouted clear mountain water…for now. Over the years the water mysteriously changed color according to any upcoming holiday.
Not much had changed in the pleasant town she and her sisters had grown up in. That gave her comfort, comfort she needed to help heal her body…and her heart.
She slowed at Pine Street and turned left. Just a block up the road she saw the huge brick and wooden structure she still called home. She pulled up in front of the decorative white sign posted in the yard of the historic bed and breakfast, the Keenan Inn, Tim and Claire Keenan proprietors.
Leah climbed out of the car as her mother rushed out of the house. Right behind her was her father.
“Leah, you’re home.” Claire Keenan wrapped welcoming arms around her daughter and held on tight. Leah fought her emotions as she inhaled her mother’s familiar rose scent.
She kissed Leah’s cheek then pulled back to examine her again with concerned blue eyes. “You look tired—and you’re too thin.”
Leah laughed and brushed away a tear. “Gee, Mom, thanks.”
“Step aside, Mother, I need to hold this lass in my arms to make sure she’s really my baby girl.” Tim Keenan pulled her into a rough embrace and whispered in her ear. “You’re home now, Leah, and you’re safe. My prayers were answered.”
Her father had always had the power to know what she was thinking and feeling. What she needed. The big, burly Irishman had dark good looks with an easy smile and big heart. And from the time Leah had noticed boys, she’d compared everyone to him. Not one of them had ever measured up.
Suddenly Holt Rawlins came to mind again. There was something about the man she hadn’t been able to shake. As a trained photographer she’d prided herself on reading people, but not this man.
“Tim, let the poor girl get a breath,” Claire said. “Let’s go into the kitchen.” She took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it as she blinked back tears. “It’s so good to have you home. You’ve been away too long.”
“I know, Mom.”
They walked up the steps to the Victorian house. The large porch was trimmed with baskets of colorful spring flowers. Two wooden swings hung by chains on either side of an oak door with the oval beveled glass inlays. She stepped across the threshold into a wide entry and honey oak hardwood floors. A burgundy carpet runner led to a sideboard that was used as the hotel’s front desk. The high white ceilings were trimmed in crown molding. The pocket doors to the parlor were partly closed, but Leah could see two guests sitting at the window enjoying their afternoon tea.
Her mother said something to the girl behind the desk, then escorted Leah past the winding staircase that led to six guest suites upstairs on the second floor.
They passed the library with the fireplace and the big comfortable, overstuffed wing chairs and the shelves loaded with books. Next was the formal dining room with the floral wallpaper and oak wainscoting. Several tables were already set for tomorrow’s breakfast with fine china and silver and colorful napkins.
They walked into the kitchen. This room was different from the rest of the house, mainly because it was strictly for family. No guests were allowed in this area. The same went for the Keenans’s living quarters on the third floor
Her father led her to the big table in the alcove lined with windows facing the backyard. “Now, tell us about your travels.”
As Leah sat down she felt her heart begin to pound, but before she could speak, her mother spoke up. “Tim, leave the child alone. She hasn’t even had a chance to catch her breath.”
Leah touched his rough hand. “Dad, I want to know about what’s been going on here. That Morgan was elected mayor is so cool. I bet that ruffled good old Hutchinson’s feathers.”
The Hutchinsons had always been the wealthiest family in town. It was their great-grandfather, Will, who first struck it rich with the “Silver Destiny Mine,” and had helped found the town.
Claire looked sad. “I think Lyle is more concerned about his father. Billy Hutchinson is failing badly. It’s a shame he had to be put in the nursing home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Billy Hutchinson had to be well over eighty.
Her father stiffened. “Well that didn’t stop his son, Lyle, from trying to undermine the election, by strong-arming his employees to vote for him. Lyle wants what’s good for himself.” Tim nodded. “Morgan will do what’s good for the town.”
Claire carried a big tureen of potato soup to the table, then filled bowls for everyone. She handed the first one to Leah.
“I have to say, Mom, I’ve missed your cooking,” Leah said.
Claire beamed. “Well, I hope that convinces you to stay longer. Both you and your hotshot lawyer sister.”
Leah didn’t want to talk about leaving again. She just wanted to think about pleasant things. Like home, and family. “How is Paige? I haven’t been able to e-mail her in months.”
“She works too hard,” her mother said, “but we’re hoping to get her home for the celebration.”
The familiar voice called out from the hall. “Hey, where is everyone?”
“We’re in here.” Leah jumped up and went to the doorway as tall, willowy Morgan came in.
Her auburn hair was long and curled around her shoulders. A perfect frame for her green eyes. Morgan and Leah were as opposite as two sisters could be.
“Leah, come here, squirt.” Morgan hugged her tight in a comforting embrace. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“And I’m glad to be here.” Tears prickled Leah’s eyes as her sister held her close. So many times while she’d been far away from home, she had relied on her big sister’s love and support.
“Come eat, you two, before it gets cold,” Claire called.
They walked hand in hand to the table and sat down. After a short blessing, the family began to eat.
“I heard that John Rawlins died,” Leah said. “Is that true?”
Her father nodded. “It happened so fast. A heart attack.” His gaze met hers. “How did you find out?”
“I stopped by Hidden Falls and ran into a man who says he’s John’s son. A Holt Rawlins.” She didn’t mention that he was good-looking, but not all that friendly. “I didn’t know John had a son.”
Her father nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Years ago John met his wife, Elizabeth, when she was here on vacation. They fell in love and were married just weeks later. But she never took to being a rancher’s wife, and Elizabeth took the boy back East to her family.”
“Why didn’t Holt ever come here to visit John?”
“John tried, but Elizabeth’s family had money and she got full custody of their son. She refused to let him come back here even for a visit.”
“Well, he’s here now,” Leah said.
Her mother sighed. “John left him the Silver R Ranch.”
“Is he going to stay?”
“Not sure,” her father said. “The word is he’s a financial adviser in New York. Why so interested?”
Leah shrugged. “I guess I’m curious as to what kind of man he is,” she said honestly. “I noticed a little boy at Hidden Falls. By the looks of him, I’d say he’s a runaway. Mr. Rawlins wasn’t too eager to help me look for him.”
Morgan looked up from her soup. “I haven’t gotten a report from the sheriff about any runaways. Are you sure he’s not just a camper who strayed? John’s property borders the Mountain View Campground.”
Leah had seen too many hungry street kids not to be suspicious. “Could be, but tomorrow, I’m going back to look for him whether Rawlins likes it or not.”
Her parents exchanged a look. “Maybe you should let the sheriff handle it.”
“The sheriff can’t do anything if he can’t find the child, if he’s hiding out. But don’t worry, I can handle Holt Rawlins.” She thought about the intimidating man with the rifle and hoped that was true.

But she thought wrong.
The next morning, Leah parked her car in the same spot and followed the trail that led toward the falls, but she didn’t make it undetected. Mr. Rawlins met her on the trail.
He looked better than a man in a pair of old jeans and a Western shirt that looked like he’d been working for hours had any right to look. He wore his Stetson like a shield, low, concealing a lot of his face.
“I thought I told you I would take care of this,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “I decided you could use some help,” she told him.
He leaned forward, resting his arm on the saddle horn. “You’re still trespassing.”
“And there’s a young boy who could be lost.”
“Or he could be running from the law.”
“Either way, he’s just a child.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving.”
“I could remove you, or call the sheriff.”
“I’ll still report seeing a child,” she challenged right back. “He’ll get a search party together and comb this area.”
Holt stiffened. The last thing he wanted was more people coming on the property. Curious residents of Destiny, wondering about his business here.
“Of course with a lot of people searching,” she continued, “it could drive the frightened boy into more danger.”
“I’ll give you two hours. If we don’t find anything, the search is over.” He held out his hand. “Climb on.”
Leah Keenan’s big brown eyes rounded. “You want me to ride with you?”
“Since I don’t have another mount, and I doubt you can keep up with me on foot, I’d say this is your only option.”
She squared her shoulders, bringing her height up to maybe five foot two. He’d always been attracted to tall, leggy women. Of course he couldn’t deny he’d noticed her shapely, petite body. At this stage in his celibate life any woman would spark his interest.
“Okay,” she relented. “We’ll start with the caves.”
After his reluctant nod, she marched toward the horse. He slipped his foot out of the stirrup, and she put her boot in, gripped his forearm, pulling herself up behind him. He had no doubt she was an experienced rider.
“All set?” he inquired.
“I’m set.” She grabbed the edge of the cantle on the saddle. “Head toward the hills. I know two caves there. I’m hoping he’s holed up in one of them instead of an abandoned mine.”
Holt tugged the reins to change Rusty’s direction. The transition didn’t go smoothly and Leah gasped and grabbed on to Holt to stay on the horse. He tried to ignore the feel of her hands on his waist, but her touch was like a brand burning into his skin. He found he’d missed it once they got on the trail and she released her hold.
“If you need to hold on…”
“I’ve ridden all my life, I think I can manage to stay on a horse.”
About twenty minutes later they finally reached the edge of the rocky hillside. Leah was eager to get off the horse. She was becoming far too aware of the close contact with this man.
“Stop here,” she called and dismounted before he could offer to help. She took off up the slight grade of the slope, feeling Holt behind her. She heard him slide in his leather sole boots, but wasn’t about to help him. He didn’t care about any lost kids. Let him keep up with her. She finally made it to the ledge, and kept going around the rock formation. Years disappeared recalling it had probably been since high school that she’d scaled this rocky terrain.
“Hey, wait up,” Holt called to her.
Leah stopped and waited as he came up beside her. For a city guy, he handled the climb like a local. Four months of ranch life had benefited Holt Rawlins in other ways, too. She couldn’t help but admire his developed shoulders and chest. Suddenly her breathing became a little rough and she quickly blamed it on the altitude.
“You can wait here if you’re claustrophobic,” she told him. “The space is kind of narrow.”
She couldn’t ignore the intensity in his green eyes. “Just lead the way.”
She walked around another group of rocks, made it to the other side where there was an entrance to a deep cave. She leaned down to make it through the opening. It was empty and there weren’t any traces of it recently being inhabited by a human.
“He’s not here,” she said disappointed.
Holt sighed and tipped his hat back. “So what’s next? Are you ready to give up?”
“No, I’m not giving up,” she insisted.
Leah marched out with Holt close behind her, too close. She continued her trek along the wide ledge for about thirty yards. She had hiked this area during her teenage years when she’d first taken up photography.
“How do you know about these caves?” Holt asked.
“I used to come here to take pictures. John told me as long as I stayed away from the old silver mines, he’d let me have the run of the place.” She paused and a breeze whipped at her hair as she looked around.
They were surrounded by the brilliant colors of the mountains. Above, a rich blue sky topped each peak, and below, a lush green meadow was spotted with cattle.
“Why did you stop?”
She glanced back at the man. “Just enjoying the view. Your view.”
“I don’t have time to stand around.”
She sighed. Save me from New Yorkers. “We’re almost there.” She went around another group of rocks to the entrance of another cave and she ducked inside the cool space. That’s where she saw several empty water bottles. Holt came around her and took his own inventory of empty food wrappers. “It looks like the kid is also a thief.”
Leah placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Holt. Your thief, as you call him, is only a boy.” She glanced around. “Look how he’s had to live.”
“He shouldn’t be living here.”
“Maybe he has nowhere else to go,” she insisted. “Have you ever thought about that? He’s a child and he’s living in a cave.” She blinked back sudden tears. “Looks like he has moved on anyway.”
For a split second she saw something in his eyes that gave her hope. Holt relented. “I won’t have a thief around.”
“You won’t. I’ll come back and find him.” She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out two energy bars and placed them on the log. “In case he returns here.” She walked out and Holt followed her.
They made their way down to the horse. “What did you mean you’ll be back?” he asked.
“The boy isn’t going to survive out here for long. The weather could change, and it could freeze. I can’t stop looking for him.”
“Okay, then come by the ranch and you can have your own mount.”
“So, you’ve changed your mind about the boy?”
“I’ve only decided it would be safer if he’s found.”
Well, Leah decided. This man might have a heart after all.

CHAPTER TWO
IN THE bedroom, later that evening, Leah sat on the bed with Morgan, reliving memories of their childhood.
“You’d still be stuck in that tree if I hadn’t found you and got you down,” her older sister told her.
“It would have been okay if I hadn’t got my jeans caught on the branch,” Leah recalled. “Mom wasn’t happy that I destroyed my new pants.”
“That wasn’t all she was worried about. It was your lack of fear. And now, you’re out there traveling from continent to continent.”
“I can take care of myself.” At least physically, Leah thought as pictures of forgotten kids flashed into her head. She shook them away. “Mom doesn’t need to worry.”
“As if she would ever stop,” Morgan said. “You’re her baby.”
Leah had felt secure in the arms of her family. Unlike her sisters, she couldn’t remember any life before coming to live in Destiny. She considered the Keenans as her parents. She hadn’t been as inquisitive as Morgan and Paige about her biological parents, or why their mother had given up her three young daughters. This was home and now, that meant more to her than she could explain.
“Please tell me you’re staying for a while.”
“I told you I would be here to help with the town’s celebration, and Mom and Dad’s anniversary. I don’t have to report for my next assignment for six weeks.” For the first time since she started photographing third world countries, Leah wasn’t eager to return. The constant sight of famine and war had taken its toll on her. Suddenly another picture came to mind. That of the young, thin boy she’d seen at the waterfall.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m just worried about the lost boy.”
“I can understand,” Morgan conceded. “But the sheriff is looking into any reported runaways. Reed Larkin is an ex-FBI agent, and he’s good at his job.”
Leah wasn’t worried about the sheriff. It was Holt Rawlins’s attitude that troubled her. “What do you know about Holt Rawlins?”
“Just what Mom and Dad told you.” Her sister’s green gaze showed concern. “A few months ago he took over the running of the Silver R. He’s come into town a few times, but pretty much keeps to himself. Speculation is that he’s waiting until after the roundup, then he’s going to sell the place.”
“Why would a New Yorker spend so much time here?”
Morgan shrugged. “A lot of people want lifestyle changes. Just because you’re a globetrotter doesn’t mean some of us don’t like life in a small town.”
“Well, whether he goes or stays, he isn’t going to keep me away. I’m headed out there in the morning to continue my search.”
“It seems to me you’re keeping a pretty close eye on the guy.”
Leah stiffened. “Only because Mr. Rawlins seems to have a chip on his shoulder. I don’t think he’s going to look for the boy.”
“So it’s Leah to the rescue.” Her sister smiled.
Leah only nodded, but knew her track record wasn’t that good.

The following morning, Holt came out of the barn to find a compact car pull up at the house. Leah Keenan climbed out and walked toward him. She was dressed in a white blouse, a pullover red sweater and a pair of jeans that molded to that curvy little body of hers. How could someone no bigger than a minute have such long legs?
His gaze moved to her face. Her shiny, wheat-colored hair was pulled back into a ponytail, exposing flawless skin void of any makeup. She walked toward him and her rich brown eyes slowly widened and her full mouth creased in a big smile. Something in his chest tightened when she took off running then he realized her attention wasn’t directed at him.
“Zach,” she cried as she flew into the arms of the old man standing in the doorway of the barn.
The ranch foreman, Zach Shaw, took her into his arms and hugged her. “Leah,” he said. “I heard you came home.” He stood back to look at her. “Well, if you aren’t still the prettiest girl in town. It’s about time you came to see me.”
“And if you aren’t the biggest fibber ever.” She sobered. “I’m so sorry about John. I hope he didn’t suffer.”
Zach shook his head. “No, it was his heart. He was gone in minutes.” The old guy blinked, then smiled. “John talked about you a lot. And he sure enjoyed all the postcards you sent him. He said you’d gone to places whose names he couldn’t even pronounce.”
“I couldn’t pronounce them, either.”
They both laughed as Holt watched her wipe stray tears from her eyes and he suddenly felt like the intruder. His own father had known this woman, but never had taken the time to know his own son.
He’d had enough of their friendly chatter. “If you two are finished reminiscing, we need to get started.” He walked past them into the barn.
Leah followed. “Just tell me which horse you want me to saddle,” she said.
He stopped at the stall. “It’s already done.”
Zach came up behind them. “I thought you’d do best on Daisy.”
Leah patted the mare’s neck. “You’re a pretty girl,” she crooned, then glanced back to Zach. “You didn’t have to saddle her.”
“I didn’t,” the old man said. “Holt had her ready before I got the chance.”
Holt led his mount toward the door. “I thought it would save us time.”
“I’m ready,” Leah insisted as she opened the gate, grabbed the reins and followed close behind. “Zach, you want to go with us?”
“No thanks, darlin’.” He glanced at Holt. “I’d say this is a two-person job. I’ll hold down the fort here. Besides, the little rustler might decide to come back here and steal again.”
Leah’s gaze shot toward Holt. “Are you sure it was the boy?”
Holt shrugged. “We’re short a couple of blankets, a flashlight and some food. What do you think? He came right into the house when we were out with the herd.”
“The kid is pretty careful about not being seen,” Zach said. “If he’s running from someone, that probably means he isn’t being treated right.”
“And we need to find him,” Leah said as she climbed up on Daisy.
“Just be careful, you two,” the old man told them. “Holt, you can handle a horse just fine, but there’s a lot in this country you don’t know. Leah does. She can lead you to the caves.”
Holt nodded. “We should be back in a few hours,” he said.
Zach glanced from Holt to Leah and grinned. “Well, if I was a young buck again and had such a pretty companion, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to get back.”
Holt grimaced. Damn if the old man wasn’t matchmaking.

Leah hadn’t realized how much she’d missed riding along a trail in some of the prettiest scenery in the world. She was definitely a mountain girl. She loved everything about the high, jagged peaks that seemed to reach up and touch the sky. Oh, she wished she’d brought her camera.
At least she’d have something to do. She glanced at the man on horseback next to her. Although she’d tried to make polite conversation, Mr. Rawlins wasn’t the chatty type. They’d already returned to the cave where they’d found evidence of the boy living there. Everything was gone today. No signs were left of the child.
“Is it just me,” Leah began, “or are you like this with everyone?”
He seemed taken aback by her question. “Like what?”
“You haven’t said more than a dozen words to me since we left the ranch.”
“I didn’t think it was required of me to carry on a conversation.”
“No, but would it hurt to be cordial?”
He continued to stare ahead. “That all depends on what you want to talk about.”
“Well, for starters, why didn’t you ever come to visit your father?”
He tensed. “I’m the wrong person to ask that question.” He finally turned his green-eyed gaze on her. “I’m sure you or anyone in Destiny knew more about John Rawlins than I did. I haven’t seen the man since I was four.”
Although Holt Rawlins worked hard to hide it, she caught a flash of sadness in his eyes. And as much as she tried to fight it, his vulnerability got to her. “But John was your father.”
“Says you,” he said, then guided the horse through a group of trees. “Maybe it would be safer if we concentrated on the task at hand, which seems to be protecting this kid you’re so worried about.” Even through his gruffness, there was also an undertone of softness in his voice.
“All children need protecting,” she said.
“Then, let’s find him,” he said. “Since he’s run off from the cave do you have any idea where he’d go?”
“My biggest fear is that he’s holed up in one of the abandoned mines.” She pointed upward toward the foothills.
Holt knew this was a mistake. He should have let the sheriff handle the search for the boy, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with Ms. Keenan.
He knew her type. She was out to save the world. Everyone was her friend, and everyone liked her. What wasn’t to like? She was beautiful. With her engaging smile that drew you in, it was impossible not to react to her. Those tawny-brown eyes of hers seemed to look too deep…too far inside to see what you didn’t want anyone to see.
Yes, he needed to stay far away from the woman. Too bad he hadn’t taken his own advice. This morning he’d been up early, waiting and willing to do her bidding.
Holt made a clicking sound with his tongue and the gelding picked up the pace. The sooner they found the kid, the sooner the tempting Leah Keenan would be off his land and out of his life.

About thirty minutes later they reached their destination. Holt followed Leah’s lead as she climbed off her mount and tied the bay mare to the tree branch. “The Sunny Days Mine is up there.”
Armed with flashlights, she started up the rocky grade with Holt close behind her. To his surprise, she managed to climb with ease. They reached the landing, then another twenty feet they located the mine. The entrance was boarded up and a Keep Out sign nailed across the front. A closer look showed that the barricade had been loosened, making entry easier.
“This is a popular place for teenagers,” Leah explained. “It’s kind of a rite of passage. They come here to drink and…be with their girlfriends.”
Holt pushed back his hat, and rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. “This gives Lover’s Lane a whole different meaning,” he said.
“And it’s a whole bunch more dangerous.”
He pulled off two loose boards to allow them better access. With flashlights on they ducked into the dark mine. The temperature was a good ten degrees cooler inside and a musty smell assaulted their noses.
Holt directed his light toward the floor, showing dusty evidence of past parties.
“Typical teenagers, they never pick up after themselves,” he said.
“We should report this to the sheriff so he can notify the owner to seal the entrance.”
“Do you really think that will keep out curious kids?”
Leah ignored Holt’s sarcasm. While he examined the main room, she started off toward one of the tunnels, praying she wouldn’t find any traces of the boy living here. She ducked through the entry to the tunnel framed by huge wooden support beams. There were old mining tools and stacks of rotten lumber. Just as she walked around the beams, a rat scurried across her path. She gasped and jumped backward tripping over the rotting wood. Unable to regain her balance, she hit the dirt floor as the stack began shifting.
Dust stirred the air and Holt rushed to her side. He swept her up in his arms and carried her out into the main room. Setting her down against the entrance, his large body shielded her from any falling debris. Finally silence filled the air, but he didn’t release her. She was trembling, feeling Holt’s breath against her ear, his large body against hers.
He looked down at her. “Are you all right?”
She managed to nod.
“Then let’s get the hell out of here.” He took her hand and drew her outside.
Once in the bright sunlight, he held her at arm’s length and did a closer examination. “Do you realize what could have happened to you?”
She was still trembling. “Yes, but I’m okay. Thank you.”
That seemed to make him angry. “I don’t want your thanks. You could have been seriously hurt or…or…” He turned away, jerked his hat off and combed his hand through his hair. “Dammit, Leah.”
Now she was angry with herself. “I know. I shouldn’t have gone into the tunnel. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to find the boy.”
“Are you this reckless as a photographer?”
He didn’t know the half of it. “They hire me to do my job,” she insisted. She started down the slope when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. They stood inches apart.
“I’m not taking another step until you promise me not to do anything that crazy again.”
The last thing she wanted to do was kowtow to this man, but after he’d rescued her, she owed him one. “Okay, but you need to accept that I mean to find that boy.” She glanced up at the sky as the sun suddenly was shadowed by threatening clouds. “We should hurry because we’re running out of time.” She started down to the horses.
“We’re finished for today.”
She stopped to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Then I’ll go myself.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “After what happened in the mine shaft, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Twenty minutes later they rode back to the ranch, but not before the sky opened up and soaked them before they got into the barn.
The rain pounded against the roof as Leah took Daisy to her stall and began removing her tack. She placed the mare’s saddle on the railing, then started wiping down the animal. Once her horse was settled, Leah went to put the saddle away.
“Let me get that,” Holt said as he came up behind her.
“I can manage.” She glanced at him. He removed his hat and for the first time she got a good look at his handsome face. His sandy-colored hair was wavy and fell against his forehead, and his startling green eyes were framed by long dark lashes. “I…I know where everything goes.”
“As do I.” He took the saddle from her and continued down the aisle. She went back for the bridle and blanket and hurried to catch up with him in the tack room.
Leah hung it on the wall. “Well…I guess that’s it.” She turned around to discover Holt watching her. The direction of his heated gaze was on her rain-soaked blouse. At first she resisted the urge to cover herself, but then a clap of thunder shook the barn along with the pounding of the rain. She shivered and crossed her arms over her breasts.
Holt couldn’t help but stare. Even soaking wet Leah Keenan was far too appealing. His protective instincts took over and he reached for a blanket. He went to her and draped it around her shoulders. Then he made a big mistake and looked into her big brown eyes. “I think you should wait out the storm here.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you come up to the house and get out of those wet clothes?”
Her eyes rounded. “I’m fine right here.”
“Don’t look so frightened, I’m not going to attack you.”
She straightened. “I never thought you were. I just didn’t want to put you out.”
“It’s a little late for that,” he said as he took her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Come on, the rain has eased up a little.”
Together they headed for the house. By the time they reached the porch, they were both soaked again. Holt pushed open the back door and let her inside the mudroom.
“We better take off our boots, or Maria will have our heads for tracking up the kitchen.”
“Maria Silva?” Leah looked up from unlacing her boots. “She still works here?”
Holt nodded. “She cleans once a week, and prepares some of the meals.”
“Lucky you. She’s a great cook.”
“I can cook, but after a long day of work, it’s been nice not to have to.” He went into the main part of the house. He grabbed a towel—and the only thing available for her to change into—one of his flannel shirts. He returned to her.
“I don’t own a robe, so this is all I have. While your wet clothes are in the dryer put this on.”
“I don’t need to change.”
“You’re shivering. Do it or Zach will kick my butt for letting you catch cold.”
“Okay.” Leah took the shirt and followed him through the kitchen and down the hall.
He pointed to a closed door. “That’s a bathroom.” “If you want you can take a hot shower.”
Holt climbed the stairs to the second floor of the large ranch house. He definitely didn’t need a hot one, he thought as he went into the master bedroom that once belonged to his father. The large sleigh bed was a dark mahogany covered in a multicolored quilt. The small print wallpaper had faded over the years. A braided rug partly covered the hardwood floor that Maria kept polished to a high gloss.
There weren’t any pictures of family and none of him, even as a boy. Holt tried to push aside the memories of a man who wanted nothing to do with his son. His only child.
There were three other bedrooms on the second floor, but Holt told himself the reason he stayed in this room was because of the connecting bath. He began stripping off his clothes and heard the water go on downstairs. Great, that was all he needed, the image of a naked Leah Keenan in his bathroom. He got in the shower and turned on the faucet to cold.
But ten minutes later, he went downstairs and found Leah in the kitchen. He swallowed hard. She was dressed only in his shirt. Her face was scrubbed clean and the blond hair pooled wet against her shoulders was beginning to curl.
“Hi,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, I fixed some coffee.”
She’d made herself at home. “Sounds good,” he told her. “I take it you know your way around here.”
Leah sipped from her cup. “I’m sorry, it’s just that while I was in high school, I used to spend a lot of time here taking pictures.”
He tried not to look at her legs, but it was impossible not to, even for a saint and he wasn’t anywhere close to being a saint. Her smooth, shapely calves and trim thighs made his mouth water as the edge of his plaid shirt cut off any more view. He took a gulp of the hot coffee, nearly scalding his throat.
He went to the refrigerator and pulled open the door to the cool air. “How about some lunch?”
She came up beside him, too close and smelling of his soap. “Only if you’ll allow me to fix it.”
Holt stepped back. “Sure. There are cold cuts in the meat bin. I’ll get the bread.”
She touched his arm to stop him. “I can do it. Please, Holt, go and sit down.”
He nodded, went to the large oval table, pulled out a chair and sat. He couldn’t help but watch as she moved efficiently around the kitchen. She laid out the bread on the white-tiled countertop, and layered the cooked ham on top, then added lettuce and tomato. He was handling things just fine until she went to the maple cabinets and reached up for plates. That was when the shirt rose high, exposing the back of her smooth rounded thighs.
Damn. He glanced away. A man could only take so much. Suddenly the back door slammed and in seconds Zach appeared in the kitchen.
The old foreman glanced around the room. His hazel eyes sparkling as he grinned. “Well, if this doesn’t look cozy.”

CHAPTER THREE
LEAH realized what her being half naked and standing in the Rawlins’s kitchen must look like. But she pushed aside her embarrassment, put a smile on her face and went to greet Zach.
“You’re just in time for lunch,” she announced. “Do you want a ham or a turkey sandwich?”
The foreman glanced at Holt. “I don’t want to interrupt…”
“Since when has that ever stopped you?” Holt told him. “You might as well sit down. We’re just killing time until Leah’s clothes dry.”
“So you two got caught in the storm?”
“We were headed back,” Leah said. Why was she feeling guilty? “Sure you don’t want a sandwich, Zach?”
“Well…if it’s not too much trouble.” The foreman went to the table and sat down across from Holt.
Leah smiled. “Not for you.”
“I take it you didn’t have any luck finding the boy,” Zach said.
“No, but I’m not giving up,” she assured him. “He’s out there somewhere.” She turned back to her task at the counter.
“I think he’s moved on,” Holt said. “We haven’t seen any sign of him since yesterday morning.”
Leah placed the sandwiches on mismatched plates from the cupboard and carried them to the table. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t out there.” She went back and poured two glasses of milk, staying busy to keep calm. “I have some places to check tomorrow.” She sat down next to Zach, tugging her makeshift robe over her knees. “I thought I’d try the old Hutchinson mine up on the south ridge.”
“That’s a thought,” Zach said. “There’s water close by and even though the cabin is old, it’s still in good shape.” He bit into his sandwich.
“Hey, don’t I have a say in this?” Holt asked. “I can’t keep traipsing around the countryside looking for a kid who doesn’t want to be found.”
Leah tensed. “Then I’ll go by myself.”
“Not without my permission.”
She caught his determined gaze, but she wasn’t intimidated. “I’m sure the sheriff could get some volunteers together within an hour and search until nightfall.”
Holt glared. “I don’t like being threatened.”
“Not any more than I like to think about a child being left out there alone.” She got up from the table, went to the mudroom and slammed the door behind her.
“Well, you’ve done it now,” Zach said as he looked at Holt. “Maybe where you come from people don’t care about other people, but around here we take care of our own. If you won’t go with Leah, then I will.”
Holt tensed, knowing it wasn’t true that everyone in Destiny took care of, their own. His father hadn’t. Something tightened in his chest. Even Holt wasn’t so callous as to let a kid roam around the wilderness.
“Will you stop grumbling? I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.” Ignoring the gleam in the old man’s eyes, he stood and went to the mudroom. He opened the door just in time to see Leah pull her jeans over those long smooth legs.
Damn. His body suddenly stirred to life.
She jerked around and fisted the shirt edges together. “Do you mind?”
Holt leaned against the doorjamb as if the intimacy of watching her didn’t bother him at all. Like hell. He forced a smile. “Not at all.”
Leah turned her back on him and fastened the jeans. “I’m going back to town now. I’ll get your shirt back to you.”
“Keep it as long as you want. It looks a lot better on you anyway.”
She ignored him and pulled on her boots, then grabbed her blouse and bra off the dryer. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I’ll have the horses saddled about eight.”
She froze. “But I thought—”
“I only said I couldn’t keep doing this all day…every day. I do have to help Zach with chores, and we’re trying to organize the roundup.”
“I know.” Her expression softened as she came closer. “Holt, I appreciate your time and help, especially after the mishap in the mine.”
She looked young…and innocent as she flashed those big brown eyes at him. He felt the reaction deep in his gut. She drew more than protective instincts from him. “That’s why you shouldn’t go into those mines alone.”
Leah nibbled on her lower lip. “So…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she said.
Holt nodded, not trusting himself with saying anything more.
“Goodbye,” she said, then darted out the door and down the steps. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, but she seemed to hardly notice it. Leah raised her face skyward and drew a deep breath before she got into her car.
From the window he watched her drive off. Had he ever been that carefree? He knew the answer to that. He’d been driven all his life. His mother, Elizabeth Pershing, had expected certain things from her only child. He had to uphold the blue-blood old Boston Pershing family’s name. And being the son of a Colorado rancher had already been a black mark against him. As hard as he tried, Holt never felt good enough to be a Pershing. He’d once overheard his grandparents say that Elizabeth had made a mistake marrying, and having a child with John Rawlins. Holt never doubted that he was the “mistake.”
The one difference between himself and his mother was he’d finally stopped trying to please the family. When he’d heard of John Rawlins’s death—and even with his Grandmother Pershing’s threats to disinherit him—Holt had quit his job and moved to Colorado to take over the ranch.
He walked away from his career and from the woman he supposedly loved. Melanie was everything a man could want. But when she wanted to settle down and start a family, he couldn’t take that step.
He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love.

“Leah, did you hear what I said?” Morgan asked.
“What?” Leah glanced at her sister, embarrassed that she’d been caught daydreaming.
“I asked if you think the church hall is big enough for Mom and Dad’s anniversary party.”
“Well, you should know better than I do. How many people will the place hold? Are we inviting the entire town?”
The always organized and composed Morgan looked anything but that today. “I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s just that we’ve got the town’s Founder’s Day celebration at the same time.”
Morgan was the only one of the Keenan sisters who had stayed in Destiny. Leah had taken off to photograph the world. Paige, with her law degree, took a job with the D.A. in Denver. Morgan’s dream had always been to teach school. But while she’d been student teaching in an inner-city school, she’d suddenly come home. To stay. She’d said that she’d changed her mind about her career, then soon after opened a gift shop in the Keenan Inn. Since then Morgan hadn’t traveled any farther away from Destiny than Durango. She’d been the one here for the family, especially her sisters.
Leah decided it was about time she and Paige helped out.
“When did you say Paige was coming home?” Leah asked.
“Not sure. The last time I talked to her she was working on a big criminal case. She’s hoping she’ll make it by the end of the month.”
Leah frowned. “That only leaves us two weeks before the party.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Morgan smiled. “I’m just glad you could get so much time off. Three years is too long to be away.”
Guilt made Leah blush. “You always knew I was an eager kid with big dreams. I had to grab an opportunity when it was handed to me.”
“Are you sorry?” Morgan asked.
“Of course there are times,” Leah began, “that I missed the family.” So many nights she’d cried herself to sleep after she photographed all the pain and suffering. It was what hadn’t gone into print that truly haunted her. She sighed. “But Our World magazine gave me an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.” For the last three years, she’d led Morgan to think her life was so glamorous, but the faces of the children she had to walk away from would bother her always.

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Raising The Rancher′s Family Patricia Thayer
Raising The Rancher′s Family

Patricia Thayer

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: New York tycoon Holt Rawlins has ditched his suits, worn in his cowboy boots and pulled his Stetson down low. He′s back home to find the truth, not to make friends!That is until beautiful Leah Keenan bursts into his life. She brings with her a small boy who needs their help. And Holt becomes both father and protector. Leah knows that the family they′ve created isn′t real, and soon she′ll have to return to her old life. But to leave will break her heart. Will the rugged rancher persuade her to stay?

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