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Duty Or Desire
Brenda Jackson
He’s a man of his word…but she rocks his world Pete Higgins is a man of his word, and puts his duty to his orphaned niece first. Except, the temporary nanny, Myra Hollister captivates him. But she’s keeping secrets, the kind that remind Pete of all he’s lost before and what he can’t afford to lose again.


How did keeping things professional get so complicated?
What happens when a man of unshakable conviction meets the woman who rocks his world?
Pete Higgins is an honorary Westmoreland, a man of his word—of course he’ll put duty to his orphaned niece first. Too bad the temporary nanny is tempting him with every look. Myra Hollister captivates him. But she’s keeping dangerous secrets, the kind that remind Pete of all he’s lost before and what he can’t afford to lose again…
New York Times Bestselling Author Brenda Jackson
BRENDA JACKSON is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and travelling.
Email Brenda at authorbrendajackson@gmail.com or visit her on her website at brendajackson.net (http://www.brendajackson.net).
Also by Brenda Jackson (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
The Westmorelands miniseries
The Real Thing
The Secret Affair
Breaking Bailey’s Rules
Bane
The Westmoreland Legacy miniseries
The Rancher Returns
His Secret Son
An Honourable Seduction
His to Claim
Duty or Desire
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Duty or Desire
Brenda Jackson


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09285-2
DUTY OR DESIRE
© 2019 Brenda Streater Jackson
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Note to Readers (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
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Acknowledgements (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
To the man who will forever be the love of my life
and the wind beneath my wings, Gerald Jackson, Sr.
To all my readers who love the Westmorelands
and their friends.
To my sons, Gerald Jr. and Brandon. Please continue
to make me and your dad proud. I love you guys.
To my family and friends who continue to support me
in all that I do.
Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and ye shall find;
knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
—Matthew 7:7
Contents
Cover (#u60140c60-faff-5cc8-850b-a392d0408d8b)
Back Cover Text (#u655f1b4b-2b20-51ef-b3d1-cc699ce06338)
About the Author (#u4bc6ea9f-3588-5566-9609-8caabb3e4eae)
Booklist (#ub2b63395-59c6-5caa-ad92-0e64100e3018)
Title Page (#u02eb25c8-1d86-513c-b7d1-e4fde441554d)
Copyright (#ud87ef3b8-5b68-566f-beaa-7b2de94998a6)
Note to Readers
Acknowledgements (#ufaa65f19-771c-5c15-aa81-659a4b5e2473)
Prologue (#u8b6b7259-9168-5748-93c3-2173ff09831f)
One (#ua49a4fcd-a411-58d7-97f0-8e384177cbc9)
Two (#u76751c2a-4da0-55f8-99fc-395383c1d24c)
Three (#u822a6b51-7f1f-59ff-b9f0-4248a8e71cf0)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
The doorbell sounded and Bane Westmoreland wondered who the latecomer could be. All his family and friends who’d been invited to celebrate his and his wife Crystal’s housewarming party were accounted for.
Upon opening the door he found an older couple, in their late sixties, standing there with a baby in their arms.
Bane was certain he did not know the couple. “Yes, may I help you?”
The man spoke. “We hate to impose but we were told Peterson Higgins was here tonight. We are the Glosters, his deceased brother’s in-laws.”
Bane nodded. “Yes, Pete is here. Please come in.”
The man shook his head. “We prefer not to, but we would appreciate it if you could tell Peterson we’re here. We would like to speak with him. We will wait out here.”
Bane nodded again. “Okay, just a minute.” He circled around the room before finally finding Pete in a group in the family room.
“Excuse me, guys, but I need to borrow Pete for a minute,” Bane said to the others. Once he got Pete aside, he told him about the older couple waiting outside. Pete placed his cup of punch aside and quickly moved toward the front door.
When Pete returned about half an hour later, he was carrying a baby in one hand and a diaper bag in the other. Everyone’s attention was drawn to him when the baby released a huge wail.
It seemed all the mothers in the room hurried toward him.
“Whose baby?” Bane’s cousin Gemma was the first to ask, taking the baby from a flustered-looking Pete.
“This is my nine-month-old niece, Ciara,” he said, noticing how quickly the baby girl quieted once Gemma held her. “As most of you know, my brother, Matthew, and his wife, Sherry, were killed in that car crash six months ago. This is their daughter. Sherry’s parents were given custody of Ciara when Matt and Sherry died. But they just gave me full custody of her, citing health issues that prevent them from taking proper care of her. That means I’m now Ciara’s legal guardian.”
Pete looked around the room at the group he considered family and asked the one question none of them could answer.
“I’m a bachelor, for heaven’s sake! What on earth am I going to do with a baby?”
One (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
Five months later
“I hate that I’m leaving you like this, Pete, but my sister needs me.”
Sheriff Peterson Higgins stared at the older woman standing across the kitchen. He’d known something was wrong the minute he walked through the door.
Well, he had news for Bonnie. He needed her, too.
Pete suddenly felt like a class A bastard for thinking such a thing after she’d just tearfully explained that her sister had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Of course he understood her wanting to go be with her only sister during this time. Even if her leaving would put him in a bind, the last thing he wanted was for Bonnie to feel guilty about going to her family. Somehow, he would find the right person to live-in and keep his fourteen-month-old niece while he worked.
Of course, that person couldn’t really replace Bonnie.
Bonnie McCray had been his mother’s best friend. When Renee Higgins had died, Pete had been sixteen and his younger brother Matthew twelve. Renee had asked Bonnie to always be there for her sons and Bonnie had kept that promise. And when Pete’s father passed away three years later, Bonnie wouldn’t hear of Pete not fulfilling his mother’s dream of him completing college. Bonnie and her husband, Fred, agreed to look after Matt while Pete studied.
It had been hard going to college full-time and making sure the cattle ranch his father had loved remained productive. Luckily, his two best friends, Derringer and Riley Westmoreland, had a huge family of cousins and brothers who’d pitched in and helped out. They also made sure Pete hired the best people to help run things while he attended university.
After he completed college with a degree in criminology, he discovered ranching wasn’t in his blood but a career in law enforcement was. He found out ranching wasn’t in Matt’s blood either when his brother went into the military immediately after high school.
Even so, Pete refused to sell the ranch that had been in the Higgins family for generations. Instead he leased part of the two hundred acres to sharecroppers, and for the other parts he hired a foreman and ranch hands. That freed Pete up to work for the sheriff’s office, a job he’d secured after college thanks to Riley’s oldest brother, Dillon Westmoreland.
Pete loved his career, and the ranch was making plenty of money, which he’d split with Matt before Matt’s death.
A pain settled around Pete’s heart when he remembered the phone call almost a year ago telling him Matt and Sherry had been killed in a car crash. Luckily, three-month-old Ciara hadn’t been with them. It had been Matt and Sherry’s “date night” and the baby had been at home with a sitter.
Sherry’s parents, who lived in New Hampshire, had wanted full custody of Ciara and Pete had seen no reason not to give it to them. Matt had adored his in-laws, thought they were good people who treated him like a son instead of a son-in-law. Besides, Pete knew with his bachelor lifestyle, the last thing he could manage was taking care of a baby. When Sheriff Harper retired a few months before, Pete had been selected to replace him. That meant his plate was fuller than ever.
Things had been working out and he’d made a point to call and check on his niece every weekend. He enjoyed hearing about the development of her motor skills and how much she liked to eat.
But five months ago, out of the blue, Sherry’s parents had shown up in Denver to say that health issues meant they needed him to serve as guardian for his niece. They assumed his bachelor days wouldn’t last forever and they thought a much younger couple would have more energy to raise their granddaughter.
At thirty-six, marriage was the last thing on Pete’s mind. However, he gladly gave his niece the love, attention and care he knew Matt would have wanted him to.
Now at fourteen months, Ciara Renee Higgins was ruling the Higgins household, and Pete was glad Bonnie had been there to help out as a full-time nanny. Her husband had passed away a couple of years ago and with her only son living on the East Coast, Bonnie had welcomed the opportunity to take care of others again. As far as Pete was concerned, she’d been a godsend. He honestly didn’t know what he’d have done without her and wondered what he would do now that she would be leaving.
“May I make a suggestion, Pete?”
For a minute he’d been so deep in thought he’d forgotten Bonnie was standing there, waiting for him to say something. “Yes.”
Bonnie smiled as she placed a serving tray on the table with soup and a sandwich. His lunch. He made a habit of swinging by the ranch at noon each day to spend time with Ciara. Although Bonnie’s job was to take care of Ciara, she always prepared lunch and dinner for him, as well. Where did she find the time to do such things? On the days when Bonnie returned to her own home, Pete took care of his niece by himself. Ciara required his full attention and would let him know when she felt she wasn’t getting enough of it. It was only during her nap time was he able to grab a nap of his own.
“Hopefully, I won’t be gone any more than two months, and I know of someone who could replace me.”
He doubted anyone would be able to replace Bonnie. “Who?”
“A woman I met a couple of months ago at church. She recently moved to the area and she and I have become good friends.”
He nodded as he walked over to the table to sit down and eat. “Where is she from?”
“Charleston.”
He chuckled. “Good grief. Don’t tell me we have another Southerner invading these parts. Bella is enough.”
Bella was married to his friend Jason Westmoreland. Everyone thought of her as a real Southern belle. From the time she’d arrived in Denver it had been obvious that she was a woman of refinement. It didn’t take long for word to spread that she was the daughter of a wealthy business tycoon in Savannah, Georgia. Although Bella had adjusted well, at times she still looked out of place amidst the bunch of roughnecks in these parts.
Bonnie placed a small salad near his sandwich. “Yes, another Southerner.” She then poured iced tea into his glass.
He looked up. “Thanks. And what makes you think she will be good with Ciara?”
“Because she taught prekindergarten for a few years and before that, she worked with younger babies in a nursery at a hospital in Charleston. She’s had us over for tea several times. I always take Ciara with me and the two of them hit it off. You of all people know how Ciara can be.”
Yes, he knew. If his niece liked you, then she liked you. If she didn’t, she didn’t. And she normally didn’t take well to strangers. “What makes you think she would be interested in keeping Ciara until you return?”
“Because I asked her,” Bonnie said with excitement in her voice. “I didn’t want to leave you with no one at all, and then not with just anyone.”
He appreciated that. “When can I meet her, to see if she’ll be a good fit?”
“I invited her to lunch.”
Pete paused from biting into his sandwich. “Today?”
Bonnie smiled. “Yes, today. The sooner you can meet her, the better. I would worry sick the entire time I’m in Dallas if you and Ciara weren’t taken care of properly.”
At that moment the doorbell sounded. “That’s probably her,” Bonnie said, smiling, as she swiftly left the kitchen.
Pete began eating his sandwich, curious about the woman Bonnie was recommending. He figured she would be around Bonnie’s age, which meant she could probably cook. Having home-cooked Southern dishes once in a while was a nice thought.
“Pete, I’d like you to meet Myra Hollister. Myra, this is Sheriff Peterson Higgins.”
Placing his glass down on the table, Pete stood and turned to offer his hand to the woman, then froze. Standing in the middle of his kitchen beside Bonnie was the most gorgeous woman he’d seen in a while. A long while. And she was young, probably no more than twenty-two or twenty-three. She had a petite figure and was no more than five-three. She appeared even shorter than that when standing across from his six-three height.
She had skin the color of rich mocha and features so striking he felt like he’d been struck in all parts of his body. Perfect hazel eyes stared back at him and a smile curved a pair of delectable lips. Fluffy dark brown bangs swept across her forehead and a mass of curly hair fell past her shoulders. When he finally moved his gaze from her face it was to check out the legs beneath her dress. They were as gorgeous as the rest of her.
He couldn’t ignore the spike of heat that caught him low in the gut. The power of her femininity surrounded him, actually made his heart skip a couple of beats. He wanted to groan in protest.
“It’s nice meeting you, Sheriff Higgins. I’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about you,” the woman said, offering him her hand. Her Southern accent was just as perceptible as Bella’s.
“Thanks,” Pete replied, fighting back a curse. The moment their hands had touched, a hard hum of lust had rushed through his veins.
Bonnie wanted him to hire this woman as a live-in nanny? She had to be kidding. There was no way he could do that, even on a temporary basis. This was the first woman he’d been attracted to since Ellen.
That placed him in one hell of a dilemma.


Myra Hollister tried hiding her excitement at possibly being hired as Ciara’s nanny. She adored the precious little girl she’d gotten to know. And when Bonnie mentioned her need for a replacement, Myra had been glad to help. It would certainly solve some of her own problems for a while.
First off, she would get a salary, which meant she wouldn’t have to touch her savings. And since her lease ended next month, moving in here was great, too. Hopefully without her own address, her brother wouldn’t be able to find her. The latter was the most important thing and would definitely buy her the time she needed before returning to Charleston for a face-off with Baron.
“How old are you?”
Sheriff Higgins’s question reeled her concentration back in. “I’m twenty-four but will be turning twenty-five on Christmas Day.”
Myra studied his very handsome features, which she’d noticed the moment she’d walked in. She figured he was either thirty-five or thirty-six, which would put him at Baron’s age. She’d encountered good-looking older men before. Her brother’s friends were all eye candy and, like him, they were all womanizers who thought women were good for only one thing. Long ago she figured it must be an age thing. Even Baron thought that way and he’d been married to Cleo almost four years. She loved her sister-in-law and regretted how Baron and his mother, Charlene, were treating her. Myra was convinced Cleo would have left Baron long ago, but he swore he would fight her for custody of the kids if she left him.
Pushing thoughts of Baron from her mind, Myra placed her concentration back on the man standing in front of her. He had chestnut-colored skin, broad shoulders and long legs that looked good in his pants.
He also had a gorgeous pair of dark brown eyes that seemed to be staring at her in disapproval. Why? Although this was what she considered an informal interview, she had dressed appropriately. She was wearing one of her church dresses with heels.
And why had he asked about her age? Hadn’t Miss Bonnie given him a rundown of her credentials and experience? What was the issue? She could tell by the frown on his face that there was one.
Automatically, she slid her hands to the back of her hair and fluffed it away from her neck, something she did whenever she was nervous. And she shouldn’t be feeling nervous, not when she was qualified for the job. If truth be told, probably overqualified.
“You’re a lot younger than I thought you would be,” he finally said, after staring her down. “Sorry, but I don’t think you’ll work out.”
Myra blinked. He didn’t think she would work out?
She was being dismissed because of her age? Maybe now was the time to remind him that there were such things as discrimination laws, but then she figured that would only make the situation worse. She glanced over at Miss Bonnie, who was giving the sheriff a shocked stare.
Deciding to reassure him, because she truly needed the job, she said, “I don’t consider myself too young to care for your niece, Sheriff Higgins. I’ve worked at a day care and also in the nursery at the hospital. And once I finish my thesis, I’ll have my PhD in child psychology.”
If Myra thought that information would impress him, then she was wrong. He remained expressionless when he said, “All that’s nice, but I regret you wasted your time coming here today.”
Although she didn’t understand what was going on, all she could do was take the man at his word. Besides, he might think of her as young, but she was strong. Only a strong woman could have put up with her brother’s foolishness for the past six months and not have broken. Fighting back the anger she felt, she said, as politely as she could, “I regret wasting my time coming here today, as well. Good day, Sheriff.”
Giving Miss Bonnie an appreciative smile, she added, “I can see my way to the door.” Then Myra turned and walked out of the kitchen.


“Would you like to tell me what that was about, Peterson?”
It wasn’t the tone of Bonnie’s voice alone that let Pete know she was upset with him. She never called him Peterson. “I stated it already and there’s nothing more to tell. I thought the woman you were recommending was an older woman, closer to your age. She’s way too young,” he said, before sitting back down to the table to resume eating his lunch.
“Too young? For heaven’s sake, she’s nearly twenty-five. Women her age are having babies every day. How can you think she’s too young when you’ve gotten Charity Maples to babysit for you a few times and she’s only seventeen?”
He shrugged. “The key word is babysit. I don’t need a young nanny working for me. Have you forgotten I need a live-in nanny?”
“At the moment what I think you need is your head examined. Myra Hollister is more than qualified to be a nanny, and what’s the problem with her living here while taking care of Ciara?”
He didn’t say anything and then he wished he had come up with something. If he had, Bonnie might not have slung out her next accusation. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid that a young beautiful woman will remind you to live again.”
He glanced over at her, which wasn’t hard to do since she’d come to stand by the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am living.”
“No, you’re not—you’re breathing. I, more than anyone, know that a part of you stopped living the day Ellen died. It’s been twelve years, Pete.”
Every muscle in Pete’s body tensed. He, of all people, knew just how many years it had been. A man would not forget the day his fiancée died when she was thrown from the horse she’d been riding. Pete doubted he would ever forget that day for as long as he lived.
A man had come into the dress shop where she worked a month earlier and tried flirting with her. She’d told him she wasn’t interested and was engaged to be married. He had begun stalking her and Ellen hadn’t told Pete anything. Then the man had intentionally thrown a firecracker to spook her horse. At least he’d been arrested and was still serving time for Ellen’s death.
“I know how long it’s been, Bonnie. What’s your point? You act as if I don’t date.”
“Yes, you date, though rarely.”
She was right. However, his excuse was a good one. He was too busy. Besides, some women saw a man in a uniform as a trophy to win and he didn’t intend to be a prize in any contest. He sighed as he shifted his gaze from Bonnie to the window.
Bonnie moved around the table to stand by him, intentionally blocking his view. She stood there, a force to be reckoned with, her hands on her hips, giving him that infamous Bonnie McCray glare.
“You’ve just dismissed your best prospect for a nanny. I didn’t even know about that thesis for her PhD. That makes her more than qualified.”
He drew in a deep breath. “What do you even know about her?”
“She’s living in Denver temporarily, trying to deal with grief. Her parents died a few months ago while vacationing in Morocco. The tour helicopter crashed.”
“That’s tragic,” he said, shaking his head, feeling bad for the woman. Losing both parents at the same time had to be hard on a person. He recalled years ago when the same thing had happened to his best friends, Derringer and Riley Westmoreland. The cousins had lost both sets of parents the same day in an airplane accident. He recalled how devastating that had been.
“Yes, it was tragic,” Bonnie was saying. “Her family owns a huge corporation in Charleston, but she’s not in the family business or anything.”
“How did she decide on Denver?” he asked,
“Someone she knows from college owns a house here and she’s leasing it for six months.”
He nodded. “Well, I wish her the best, but like I said, she’s too young to stay here. I’m sure there are other women out there. An older woman I can hire to live here as a nanny.”
“Myra could live here as Ciara’s nanny, Pete. Don’t think I don’t know why you’re behaving the way you are. I’ve got eyes. I knew the moment she walked into the room that you were attracted to her.”
He wouldn’t bother denying anything because he’d learned long ago that Bonnie didn’t miss a thing. “And what if I am? I’ve been attracted to women before.”
“Yes, and the few you’ve dated were women you deemed safe. For some reason you’re afraid if a pretty young woman like Myra got underfoot that she might thaw your frozen heart.”
First she accuses him of breathing instead of living and now she’s saying he has a frozen heart.
His heart wasn’t frozen. He just wore a thick protective shield around it. Pete refused to ever go through the pain he’d felt when he lost Ellen. Pain that could still creep up on him even now, twelve years later. Had Ellen not died, they would be married by now with a bunch of kids and living in this very house where he’d been born. They would be happy, just as they’d been that day when they’d been sixteen and had decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend forever.
Forever…
For him, forever was still going on. It hadn’t died the day Ellen had.
“Have you forgotten about that dream you shared with me, Pete?”
He didn’t have to wonder what dream she was talking about. “What does that dream have to do with anything?”
She sat down in the chair beside his. “Because in that dream you said your hands had been tied and Ellen was untying them for you. Not only did she untie them but then she tried to push you out some door.”
A part of him now wished he hadn’t shared any details about that dream with Bonnie. But he had done so mainly because it had bothered him to the point where he’d awakened in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He’d gotten up to go into the kitchen, needing something to drink and found Bonnie in the living room, sitting in the chair, rocking Ciara back to sleep. While downing a glass of lemonade, he had told Bonnie about his dream and she’d listened and said nothing.
It had been the next morning when she’d told him what she thought the dream meant. Ellen was trying to release him, free him from all the plans they’d made together. She wanted him to enjoy life. To live and love again. To do more than just breathe.
Pete sighed deeply. He hadn’t accepted Bonnie’s interpretation of the dream then and he wouldn’t accept it now. “I don’t want to talk about that dream, Bonnie.”
“Fine, Pete. But you need to accept that I’m leaving and your niece needs a nanny. I honestly don’t think you’re going to find another person more qualified than Myra Hollister, especially not in two weeks.”
He slid back his chair to stand. “I intend to do just that, Bonnie. I’m determined to find someone more qualified.”
He had to.
Two (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
Myra looked up from reading the morning paper and sipping her herbal tea. She tipped her head to stare at her cell phone. It was ringing and she didn’t recognize the ringtone. Granted, she hadn’t assigned a specific sound to everyone who called her. Only those that mattered. She was about to ignore the call and then remembered it might be Sheriff Higgins.
She had run into Miss Bonnie and Ciara at the grocery store two days ago and had been so glad to see them. Ciara’s chubby arms had automatically reached for her and she’d been happy to hold her. That had been the first time she’d seen Miss Bonnie since that day a week ago when the sheriff had turned down her employment as a nanny.
According to Miss Bonnie, the position hadn’t been filled and she felt the sheriff would come to his senses soon enough and realize Myra was the best candidate.
Deciding to appease her curiosity, she clicked on the phone. “Hello.”
“Gosh, Myra, you had me worried there for a minute.”
“Wallace? Why are you calling me from another number? One that I don’t recognize?”
Wallace Blue had been her father’s protégé. The man Elias Hollister had groomed for years to replace him at the company whenever that time came. At least her father had the good sense not to make Baron his successor, recognizing at an early age that her brother lacked the skills, knowledge and compassion to ever head a company the size, depth and magnitude of Hollister Enterprises.
Her father thought his only son’s lack of character stemmed from Baron having been raised by his mother, who’d been Elias’s first wife. He thought Charlene had raised her son to be just as callous, calculating and cruel as she was. Myra hadn’t known just how true those allegations were until her involvement with Rick Stovers.
She should not have been surprised that Baron’s behavior would get worse after her parents died unexpectedly. The first thing Baron had done was go after Wallace, who’d been in place to head the company. Rumor had it that Baron, along with his devious mother, had gotten to the stockholders after obtaining damaging information on their pasts. Baron and Charlene had threatened to expose the information if the stockholders didn’t vote Wallace out and put Baron in as Myra’s father’s replacement.
“It’s a burner phone and I wanted to check to make sure you’re okay,” Wallace was saying. “Your brother is more devious than ever and I think he might have put a tracker on my regular phone. He’s desperate to find you.”
Myra could believe that because in two months, when she turned twenty-five, the entire company became hers and there was nothing Baron or the stockholders could do about it. It was Baron’s intention that she not show up at that meeting where she would take control of the company, appoint Wallace as the CEO and show Baron the door. How he planned to stop her was anyone’s guess, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
“I can’t understand why you’re still working there,” she said.
“Because while I’m here I can make sure Hollister Enterprises stays profitable until it’s time for you to take over. Otherwise, Baron will bankrupt it. All Baron’s friends are working here and they don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
Myra believed Wallace. Her father had said often enough that Baron had no business sense and as far as Myra was concerned the men he hung out with, mostly frat brothers, were just as bad. “Well, let Baron continue to look for me. I think this is the last place he’ll think to look. According to Cleo, he thinks I’m somewhere in Spain, which is why Charlene tried to have my passport revoked so I couldn’t return to the States.”
“Don’t put anything past her, Myra. Over the years she’s been known to have bed partners in some pretty high places.”
Myra could believe that. Baron even bragged about his mother’s past lovers and how she could get some of them to do just about anything for her. Baron and Charlene disliked Wallace because they saw him as taking Baron’s place in Elias’s life. Baron and Wallace were nearly the same age, and yet as different as day and night. Wallace, whose father had been Elias’s best friend since childhood, always carried himself with professionalism and honesty.
“So, what’s going on with you?” Wallace asked her, breaking into her thoughts.
She shrugged, not surprised he’d asked. She considered him the big brother Baron had never been. “Not much. Paula needs to turn this house back into an Airbnb for the holidays, so I’ll be moving out in a week.”
“And going where?”
“Not sure. There’s a woman I’ve met who relocated from Savannah,” she said, thinking about Bella Westmoreland. “She owns a private B and B. I plan to talk to her about moving into one of the rooms there for two months. Just till Christmas. I told you why I’m avoiding hotels.”
“Yes, because Baron could trace your whereabouts if you don’t,” Wallace said. “I just hate you’re on the run like this. If your father was alive, he—”
“But Dad isn’t alive, Wallace, and we need to carry out his wishes like he would want us to do. I’m fine, just a little inconvenienced.”
She and Wallace knew the truth. She was being inconvenienced a whole lot. It was never her desire to get tied to the family’s business. Her father had always respected her decision. But she’d known, because he’d told her, that if anything happened to him and her mother simultaneously, the company would become hers. He’d instructed her to make sure Wallace was CEO so he could run things. And that was what she intended to do. Her twenty-fifth birthday couldn’t get here soon enough. Now, if she could only stay hidden from Baron until then.
“You still working on your thesis?” Wallace asked her.
She moved back to the table to sit down. “Yes, but not as much as I should.” Then, because she wanted to share her disappointment with someone, she said, “I interviewed for a nanny position last week.”
“That’s great. How’s that working out for you?”
Knowing Wallace figured she’d gotten the job, she said, “I wasn’t hired. The guy thought I was too young.”
“Too young?”
“Yes. I think he was looking for an older, matronly woman.”
“Too bad, it’s his loss. You’re good with kids and would have been a great nanny.”
She believed that, too. At that moment her doorbell rang. “Thanks. I have to go. Someone is at the door.”
“Okay. Make sure you check to see who it is before opening it, Myra.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” She clicked off the phone and headed for the door.


Pete couldn’t believe he was here, but it had taken his best friend Derringer Westmoreland to help make him realize that just like Bonnie had said, Myra Hollister was the best person to be nanny to Ciara. Besides, he was running out of time.
Bonnie would be leaving town next week and so far, the women he’d interviewed had been so lacking in certain skills he’d quickly shown them the door. Then there had been Ciara’s reaction to each of them. She had taken one look and started screaming her dislike.
According to Derringer, Jason’s wife, Bella, and Myra Hollister had become friends. Bella had invited Ms. Hollister to one of those Westmoreland family chow-downs, something the Westmorelands got together for every Friday, and the one thing they’d all been amazed about was how the Westmoreland kids had taken to Myra and she to them. It was as if she was a modern-day Mary Poppins.
Something else Derringer had said had helped Pete see reason. If he truly wanted what was best for Ciara, then he would get the best. It would be up to him to keep things professional between him and his nanny. He had to agree with that. All he had to do was remember his relationship with Ms. Hollister was strictly business.
He intended to make sure it stayed that way.
So here he was on Myra Hollister’s doorstep with Ciara in tow. It was his day off and he hoped Ms. Hollister was still interested in the job. He glanced down at his niece who was smiling happily at him.
Suddenly the door opened and Myra stood there with a surprised look on her face. “Good morning, Sheriff Higgins.”
He was about to ask if he could come in when Ciara released a happy scream and all but jumped out of his arms into Ms. Hollister’s. He tightened his hold on his niece as she tried twisting out of his arms.
“You can let her go. I have her,” Myra Hollister said. Ciara not only went to the woman but wrapped her arms around her neck as if Myra Hollister was her lifeline.
He’d seen the interaction between Bonnie and Ciara numerous times and had seen the bond developing between them over the months. But he hadn’t been prepared for this, although he’d been forewarned.
“Hey there, Ciara, how are you, sweetie?” Myra asked her, and that’s when Ciara pushed back to look up at the woman while smiling brightly.
Myra Hollister lifted her eyes over Ciara’s head to look at Pete, who could only stare back at her. Today she looked even younger. The legal drinking age in Colorado was twenty-one, and he could see her getting carded easily. Few would believe she was twenty-four without proof. She was wearing her hair down and around her shoulders as she had the other day, and he wondered if the curls were as fluffy as they looked.
“Would you like to come in, Sheriff Higgins?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she said, stepping aside for him to enter, propping Ciara on her hip.
“She’s heavy,” he said, reaching for his niece once they were inside. Again Ciara rebuffed his outstretched hands and clung to Myra.
“She’s fine. Come in by the fireplace. Glad to see you have her dressed properly.”
“Of course,” he said, taking off his Stetson and hanging it on the hat rack by the door.
It was October and the temperature was below freezing. Did she think he didn’t know to dress his niece for the cold weather? Granted, he would admit Bonnie had made it easy for him by laying Ciara’s clothes out the night before.
“Would you like something to drink, Sheriff Higgins? I have tea, hot chocolate and coffee.”
When she sat down on the sofa with Ciara, he sat in the chair across from her. “No, I’m fine.”
He knew from Bonnie that Myra was leasing this home. He liked the community and recalled it had once been his area to patrol when he was a deputy. The people were friendly and because of a neighborhood watch program, crime had been practically nonexistent.
“I want to apologize for my behavior the other day. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He decided to get it out there. He wished he wasn’t noticing how good she looked sitting there in her leggings and pullover sweater. Or how at eleven o’clock on a cold Monday morning she reminded him of a bright ray of sunshine.
After removing Ciara’s coat, hat and mittens, she adjusted his niece in her lap, looked him dead in the face and said, “Yet you did offend me, Sheriff.”
He blew out a slow breath. He needed to explain his actions as best he could while leaving out a couple of vital details. Like his intense attraction to her. He’d hoped it had been a fluke, but when she’d opened the door just now, he’d seen that it hadn’t been. At least he was doing a better job of controlling his reaction today than he had last week.
“I apologize for offending you. When Bonnie told me about you, I assumed you were an older woman. I hope you can understand my surprise when you walked into the kitchen.”
“Even if I wasn’t what you expected, I’m sure Miss Bonnie told you about my qualifications. I still don’t understand why there would be a problem even if I’m considered young to you. I used to work in a day care. I worked in a nursery at a hospital taking care of newborns and I’m getting my PhD in child psychology. What else did you need, Sheriff?”
He had to tighten his lips to keep from saying he didn’t need anything else, but it would help tremendously if she didn’t look like a goddess. And then, as if things needed to get more interesting, his niece took hold of the front of Myra’s sweater. That caused a dip in the fabric, exposing a generous portion of Myra’s cleavage. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he said, “I don’t need anything else. I think that would do it…if you’re still interested.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, like she was mulling it over, trying to decide. Then she said, “Yes, I’m still interested.”
He felt relief at that. “Good. However, there are a few questions I need to ask to finish the interview process.”
“Ask away.”
“First, I want to offer my sympathy in regards to your parents. Bonnie told me what happened.” He saw the sadness that appeared in her eyes. She and her parents must have been close. A cop was trained to read people even when they didn’t want to be read.
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
He wished he didn’t have to ask the next question but there was no way around it. She needed to know what her working environment would be like. “You will need to move in with me for two months.” He paused, deciding he didn’t like the way that sounded. “Let me rephrase that.”
“No need,” she said, smiling. “I know what you meant. And yes, I’m aware that because of your unorthodox work hours, I’ll have to move into your place as a full-time nanny to Ciara. In fact, moving into your place works better for me.”
He lifted his brow. “Why is that?”
“Because my lease on this place expires in a week, and I would have had to find someplace else to stay. I won’t have to do that if I move into your place to take care of Ciara. Then around the time Miss Bonnie will be returning, I’ll be heading back to South Carolina.”
He nodded. She was right. It would work out well for her. That meant she would leave Denver around the holidays. She’d mentioned her birthday was on Christmas…just like his.
She shifted positions on the sofa and Ciara shifted with her, without taking her eyes off the flames in the fireplace. Funny, she’d never been so attentive to his fireplace. Then he saw the colorful flames emitting from the logs. He smiled his understanding about why such a thing was holding his niece’s attention since it was now holding his.
“Did you know, Sheriff, that babies have the ability to recognize colors at eighteen months?” Evidently she noticed he was staring at the flames as much as Ciara.
He glanced back at her. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes. However, I suspect Ciara has a jump start since it’s quite obvious she can detect colors now. I also suspect it won’t be long before she notices similarities and differences in shapes, sizes and texture of objects.”
He nodded again. “She’s already begun talking and thinks I’m her daddy. She’s even called Bonnie Momma a few times.”
“Does that bother you? That she calls you Daddy?”
He had to be honest that yes, it did. “I don’t ever want her to forget Matt and Sherry.”
She shifted in her seat again, in a way where Ciara could still keep her gaze on the flames. “Can I be blunt with you, Sheriff?”
He nodded his head. “Yes.”
“Chances are she’s already forgotten them.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched. He preferred she not say such a thing because he definitely refused to think it. “You don’t know that.”
A hint of sadness appeared in her eyes. “Yes, I do. She was only three months old at the time of their accident, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then what she remembers most is their scent.”
Although he didn’t want to agree with her, he knew what she said made sense. “Like I said, I don’t want her to forget them.”
“What you mean is that you want her to remember them.”
As far as he was concerned, it meant the same thing. Evidently she didn’t think so, but he refused to spar with her. Besides, there was one other thing they needed to cover before he felt totally comfortable hiring her.
“When Ciara gets older,” she continued, “around three years old, that would be a good time to begin establishing her parents’ likenesses into her memory with pictures. There’s nothing wrong with her calling you Daddy. When she’s old enough you can tell her the truth.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead of appreciating her insight, he resented it. He was hiring her as a nanny, not a social worker. He and Ciara would do just fine without her dotting every i and crossing every t for them.
“There’s another matter I want to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” she said, moving her gaze from his to smile down at Ciara. His niece had finally gotten bored of the fire and was glancing around the room. Myra Hollister held Ciara firmly in her arms and he was amazed that Ciara hadn’t given her any pushback. Usually, she was ready to get on the floor and move around to see what she could get into. The Higgins household had gone through a lot of changes since his niece began walking three months ago.
“And what matter is that, Sheriff?”
“Our relationship.” When he realized how that sounded, he quickly said, “Our working relationship. I think I need to define it.”
He saw the way her brows scrunched up. “Why?”
Her words pretty much confirmed she honestly didn’t have a clue. Maybe that was a good thing. But still, he needed to make sure they had an understanding about a few things.
“Why do you think you need to define our working relationship, Sheriff?” she asked again.
Pete drew in a deep breath. “We will be living under the same roof. I’m a single man and you’re a single woman.”
“And?”
“People might talk, Ms. Hollister.”
She looked even more confused. “Why would they? I’m sure people around here know your profession. You’re the sheriff. You’re also the guardian to your niece. Why would anyone have anything to say about you hiring a temporary nanny until Miss Bonnie returns?”
He shifted in his seat. “Like I said. I’m single and so are you.”
“So is Miss Bonnie.”
Pete frowned. Was she deliberately being obtuse? “I’ve never had a young, single and beautiful woman living under my roof before.”
She stared at him for a moment and then cocked a brow. “Although I don’t consider myself one of those real proper Southern belles, I was raised to adhere to conservative protocols. Is there something about your reputation that I need to be concerned with, Sheriff?”
Her question threw him. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re evidently worried about my reputation and what people will think with me living in your house.”
Is that what she honestly thought? “I assure you there’s nothing questionable about my character.”
“And I assure you there’s nothing questionable about mine. And as far as anyone suspecting something going on between us while we’re living together, that is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“And why is that?”
She rolled her eyes. “First of all, you’re not my type. Second, you’re older than anyone I normally would date.”
Well, damn. She’d pretty much put him in his place by telling him she was not in the least attracted to him. There was only one thing he could say. “I’m glad because you’re not my type either, and you’re younger than the women I’d typically date.”
“Great! Then we don’t have anything to worry about. I honestly don’t care what people might say or think about me living with you. However, if you’re concerned about what they might say, then I suggest you find yourself another nanny.”


Myra meant what she’d said, although she could understand why someone would think she could fall for the sheriff. After all, he was a very handsome man. Instead of being dressed like a lawman, today he was wearing jeans and a Western shirt. When she’d looked out the peephole and seen him earlier, standing on her doorstep, tall, broad shouldered, ruggedly built with a Stetson on his head, she’d drawn in a deep breath to slow her pulse. He was her idea of a Denver cowboy ready to go off and tame a bunch of wild broncos.
But the bottom line, handsome or not, she could not and would not be attracted to him. She could appreciate a man’s good looks without losing her mind over him; especially an older, good-looking man, thanks to her bad experience with Rick.
But she couldn’t deny the sensations that had gone off in her stomach when Pete had described her as young, single and beautiful. Did he really think she was beautiful? And why did the idea of him thinking such a thing give her a warm feeling? She couldn’t let his words, or her reaction to them, go to her head.
Her time in Denver was limited and like she’d told him, she would be returning to Charleston in a couple of months. But she’d stay there just long enough to boot Baron out of the company and return Wallace to his rightful place as head of Hollister Enterprises. Then she intended to take a monthlong vacation in Paris. She would definitely deserve it.
“I see I’ve offended you again.”
She glanced over at him and her stomach contracted. Why did he have to look regretful and sexy at the same time? “Yes, you have. I’m beginning to think you enjoy doing that.”
“I assure you I don’t. I just didn’t want you caught off guard. You’re new here and I know this town.”
She nodded. “And I guess that means you have a reputation to uphold, and I understand that. Well, guess what? So do I. But obviously you think your reputation means a lot more than mine.”
“I never said that.”
No, he hadn’t insinuated such a thing, but she also hadn’t given much thought to them sleeping under the same roof until he’d made such a big deal out of it. “Like I said. If you’re worried about what people think, then I’m not—”
“I’m not worried.” He stood and she watched how he easily slid out of the chair to stand up to his six-three height. “You will work out fine if you still want the job.”
He then offered her an amount that was a lot more than what she had figured on earning. That would certainly help keep her tucked away from Baron until she was ready to return home. “I accept your offer, Sheriff. Will I be expected to do laundry and cook, as well?”
He lifted a brow. “Can you cook?”
She lifted her chin. “I can hold my own. I can’t cook as well as Miss Bonnie, but considering how young I am, Sheriff, I might surprise you.”
“You’re not going to let me forget about the big deal I made with your age, are you?”
“No time soon,” she said, unable to hide her smile.
She looked down at the little girl she held in her arms, deliberating over placing her concentration on Ciara before she looked back at him. “But that’s your hang-up, Sheriff. I’m sure you will get over it. I’m looking forward to taking care of Ciara until Miss Bonnie returns.”
“I’m glad.”
He smiled for the first time since she’d met him. All she should have seen was a friendly smile, but when his lips had curved, she was struck with a spike of feminine awareness. Why had his smile caused that reaction in her?
She didn’t know. The best thing to do was to get rid of him to ponder the reason in private. She stood after putting on Ciara’s coat, hat and mittens. “So, I guess that’s it. I will be reporting to your place on Friday. That will give Miss Bonnie a chance to help me get acclimated to Ciara’s schedule and my duties while she’s gone.”
“Do you need help moving out of here?” he asked, glancing around. She watched him while every hormone in her body seemed to sizzle. And all because he’d smiled?
“No, I don’t need any help. Most things here belong to the owner, who is a college friend of mine. I just need to pack my clothes.”
“Okay.” The sheriff reached for Ciara and seemed disappointed when his niece’s head dropped back against Myra’s chest, as if she wasn’t ready for Myra to relinquish her.
He tried again. “Come on, Ciara. We need to leave before the weather gets any worse.”
When his words wouldn’t budge his niece, he then said, “We’ll have cookies to eat when we get there.”
Evidently mentioning cookies had been the magic word since Ciara extended her arms out for him. The sheriff threw his head back and laughed while cradling Ciara close.
Myra’s heart skipped, and she knew why. Baron had twin girls and he’d never shown them that much compassion. Yet he hadn’t thought twice about threatening to take custody of them just to hurt Cleo.
“Looks like you know how to handle her, Sheriff Higgins.”
He chuckled. “I do my best. And from here on out I prefer for you to call me Pete.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat caused by the deep, husky sound of his voice. “And please call me Myra. I’ll see you to the door.”
At the moment, she didn’t care if it seemed as if she was rushing him out. Mainly because she was. All the man had done was smile. She didn’t quite understand her reaction, and she was never good at dealing with unknowns.
But when they reached the door and Ciara looked at her beneath her fluffy little cap, Myra was a goner. In truth, the little girl had captured Myra’s heart the minute Myra had held her. She refused to think about what could happen to Ciara if she was left with the wrong nanny. Unfortunately, not all nannies were dependable and competent.
“We will see you on Friday.”
Myra met Pete’s gaze over Ciara’s cap. “Yes, you will see me Friday. I should arrive by noon.”
“Good. We’ll be waiting.”
Once again his deep, husky voice played havoc with her ears, sped up her heartbeat and tempted her to close her eyes. Moments later when the pair had left and Myra had closed the door behind them, she leaned back against it and drew in a long, deep breath.
“I will not be attracted to Sheriff Peterson Higgins,” she said aloud, issuing the command to her brain and expecting her body to cooperate. Opening her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, confident that her brain and body now understood each other.


Pete had barely made it inside his house before Bonnie began grilling him. “How did it go? Did she still want the job? Do you feel comfortable about her being here? Did you hire her?”
He placed his Stetson on the rack before turning with Ciara in his arms. Bonnie didn’t waste any time taking his niece from him.
“Things went well, and yes, yes and yes to your other questions.”
Bonnie smiled. “I knew things would be all right once you talked to her yourself.”
Pete wasn’t sure things would be all right, but he’d gotten tired of unintentionally offending Myra and figured he needed to stop while he was ahead. Bottom line, she was qualified to take care of Ciara and anything else would be up to him to keep in check. He knew now more than ever that doing such a thing wouldn’t be easy. Sharing space with her even with Ciara with them had been hard. He’d been aware of every breath and every move. How would he handle her being here with him in this house alone?
If anything, what she’d told him should help. He wasn’t her type and was too old for her liking. He shouldn’t be offended by her comment since he was the one who’d made such a big deal of the age thing. But he had news for her; the twelve-year difference in their ages didn’t mean a damn thing. Bonnie had reminded him that his own father had been ten years older than his mom, and old man Arnold was fifteen years older than Ms. Viola and they’d been married for close to seventy years.
Pete wondered why he was wasting so much thought on this issue. The important thing was that he and Myra had an understanding. Well, sort of. Deep down he believed she felt the entire subject had been ridiculous since she wasn’t the least bit interested in him, and he shouldn’t be the least bit interested in her.
But he was, though. The best thing to do when she moved in was to stay out of her way and make sure she stayed out of his. His home didn’t have split levels. His master suite was at the end of a long hall and Myra should have no reason to venture that far down the hall since the bedroom she would be using had its own private bath and Ciara’s room was next door to hers. There was another guest room and his office next to Ciara’s room.
On the other hand, he would have to walk down the hall and pass by both bedrooms to get to the living room and other parts of the house.
“When will Myra be moving in?”
“We agreed on Friday. That will give you time to pack and take care of things you need to handle at your place since you’ll be gone for a while. If you need me to do anything while you’re gone, let me know.”
“I will and I appreciate it.” Bonnie glanced down at Ciara who’d fallen asleep in her arms. “Let me lay her down. It’s not even her nap time yet. What did you do to her to tire her out?”
“I didn’t do anything. In fact, once she saw Myra Hollister, Ciara forgot I was alive.”
Bonnie chuckled. “You sound jealous.”
Did he? Was he? Possibly. He wasn’t used to Ciara being so taken with anyone she wasn’t accustomed to seeing on a regular basis. “I have no reason to be jealous, Bonnie.”
“Oh, by the way,” Bonnie said as she headed down the hall, “Zane’s here checking on the horses. Told me to tell you he would stop by before leaving.”
“Fine.” Zane was one of Derringer’s older brothers. Although he was a married man now, Zane once had a reputation as one of Denver’s most notorious womanizers. But then so had Derringer and Riley. Only difference was that Zane’s reputation had been a lot worse. He’d also been dubbed an expert when it came to women and was known to give out advice on the topic.
Pete removed his jacket before walking over to the window. Snowfall was predicted tonight. He couldn’t wait until Ciara got older and he could build a snowman with her like he’d done with Matt while growing up. Those had been fun times when both of their parents had been alive and their only worry was making sure their homework was done before going to bed.
He saw a movement out the window and recognized Zane walking toward the house. Zane, Derringer and their cousin Jason were partners in a lucrative horse breeding and training business, along with several of their Westmoreland cousins living in Montana and Texas. The partnership was doing extremely well financially, with horse buyers extending all the way to the Middle East. One of their horses, Prince Charming, had placed in the Kentucky Derby a few years ago. Since then, potential clients had been coming out of the woodwork in droves. As a result, they’d needed more land to hold the horses. Since Pete had more property than he knew what to do with, he’d leased a portion of it to the Westmorelands.
Pete had never sought out Zane for advice on the topic of women before, but maybe he should run this situation regarding Myra by Zane. Hell, doing so couldn’t hurt.


Myra glanced around her bedroom. Although she had four days to pack, there was no use waiting until later. Like she’d told Pete, she didn’t have much stuff and the majority of her items could fit into her luggage.
Pete.
She couldn’t stop remembering the exact moment he’d suggested she call him Pete instead of Sheriff. She knew his real name was Peterson but that he had been called Pete since he was a baby. That information had come from Miss Bonnie, who’d told her a lot about him.
Myra also knew he’d been engaged once and his girlfriend from high school had died just weeks before their wedding. She’d been participating in a local parade when she was thrown off her horse.
Myra had been saddened by the story and a part of her heart had gone out to the man who’d lost the love of his life so close to their wedding day. That had been twelve years ago and she wondered if he was now seriously involved with anyone.
She picked up her phone when it began ringing, recognized the ringtone. “Hello, Bella.”
“Myra, how are you?”
“I’m fine. What about you?”
“Doing okay but I hear there will be a snowstorm beginning tonight. I hope you’re prepared,” Bella said.
“I am. Besides, staying inside will give me a chance to work on my thesis.”
“How is that coming?”
“Great. I’m hoping to turn it in around this time next year.”
“That’s outstanding. Another reason I’m calling is to invite you to the Westmorelands’ chow-down on Friday night.”
“Oh, thanks for thinking of me again, but I’m moving on Friday.”
“Moving?”
“Yes. I’ve been hired to be Sheriff Higgins’s temporary nanny while Miss Bonnie is away.”
“That’s wonderful. You’ll be perfect, and Pete will go to work each day knowing Ciara is in good hands. The girls will be disappointed not to see you on Friday.”
Myra laughed when she thought of Bella and Jason’s twins. She had won them over, along with a few other Westmoreland kids, with her magic tricks when she’d attended their Friday night chow-down a few weeks ago.
“Well, I’m going to have to pay them a visit once I get settled at the Higgins place. Then I can bring Ciara along.”
“Oh, they will enjoy that, and we’ll look forward to your visit.”


“So, what’s on your mind, Pete?”
Pete glanced over at Zane Westmoreland, whose long legs were stretched out in front of him as he took a sip of his beer. His wife, Channing, was expecting their first child and yet Zane had just finished telling Pete that Zane was the one craving stuff.
“I need your expert advice on something.”
Zane lifted a brow. “What?”
“Not sure if you heard that Bonnie’s sister has cancer and she needs to be in Texas for about two months.”
“Yes, Bonnie mentioned it when I first got here. I told her that I was sorry to hear that.”
“Her leaving means I have to hire a nanny until she returns. I found one, a woman name Myra Hollister, but I detected possible problems.”
Zane raised a brow. “What kind of problems?”
“She’s a very beautiful woman.”
Zane nodded. “I met Myra a couple of weeks ago when Bella invited her to one of the Westmoreland chow-downs, and you’re right, she’s a beautiful woman. She’s also single and so are you, so what’s the problem?”
“She’s younger than me by twelve years.”
“And?”
Pete took a sip of his own beer. “I want things to remain professional between us while she’s living here.”
Zane lifted a brow. “Why wouldn’t they? Or, why should they if you’re attracted to her?”
Pete frowned. “Who said I was attracted to her?”
Zane chuckled and then shook his head. “Oh, you want to be one of those, do you?”
“One of what?”
“A man in denial.”
“I’ll admit to being attracted to her. A little.”
“A little?” Zane shook his head, ginning.
“What if I told you that she’s not interested in me?”
“And how do you know that?”
Pete took another sip of his beer. “I warned her that people might talk, with her being young and single and living under my roof. She told me not to worry about it since I wasn’t her type and that I’m older than the men she would normally date.”
Zane snorted. “At twenty-four she’s probably not sure what type of man is her type, and maybe it’s time for her to date men your age to see what she’s been missing. If I were you, I’d see that as a challenge and prove her wrong on both accounts.”
“Why would I want to do something like that?”
The room was quiet for a moment and then Zane said, “You know what I think your real problem is, Pete?”
In a way, Pete was afraid to ask because the great know-it-all-about-women Zane Westmoreland was known to tell it like it was and not sugarcoat anything. “What?”
“Your problem is denial, plain and simple. You desire the woman, so admit it and stop trying to fight it.”
Pete didn’t say anything, then he said, “I have to fight it, Zane.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want it. I’m not ready for it.”
Zane frowned. “I’m sure you’ve dated and desired women before, Pete.”
He nodded. “This is different.” He met Zane’s intense gaze for a long moment and only someone who knew him as well as Zane did would feel the depth of his turmoil.
“Ellen would want you to move on with your life, Pete.”
If another person told him that, Pete would be tempted to ram his fist into the nearest wall. “You don’t know that.”
“I do know it and I’m wondering why in the hell you don’t. Have you forgotten that Ellen used to be one of Megan’s best friends? She hung around our place just as often as you did. She was a wonderful girl who didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. There’s no way she wouldn’t want you to move on with your life. I think the problem is one you’re bringing on yourself.”
Zane took another sip of his beer and then added, “Apparently Myra Hollister is capable of making you want to move on and—”
“Hey, wait a minute. Things aren’t that serious. We’re talking about an attraction and nothing more.”
Zane shook his head. “But there is more, Pete. Attraction and desire aren’t the same. A man doesn’t desire every woman he’s attracted to.”
When Pete didn’t say anything, Zane said, “If you’re trying to stop desiring her, don’t bother.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t get rid of something you won’t acknowledge having. You have a thing for the woman, so admit it. You desire her, too, so admit that, as well. And if you don’t want either, then don’t hire her as your nanny because the more you’re around her, the more you’re going to desire her.”
Pete met Zane’s gaze. “Too late. I have hired her.” He paused a moment and then said, “I don’t want chaos in my life, Zane.”
Zane drew in a deep breath. “Any chaos will be of your own making. Desiring a woman is a healthy part of being a man, Pete. If you want to waste those emotions, go ahead. Doing so won’t eliminate this problem you have but will only increase it. If she stays here and you try to fight your desire, then eventually you’re going to snap.”
Pete frowned. “I’m a lawman—I don’t snap.”
“You’re a man first and you will snap.” Zane stood. “I’m going to give you the same advice I gave myself a few years ago.”
“What?”
“Stop trying to fight emotions you’re supposed to be feeling. Sooner or later you’re going to have to accept there’s a reason Myra Hollister has the ability to make you feel things that other women can’t.”
Three (#uc52da3af-6edf-5bff-9fa2-b2ac176a1b85)
Myra slowed her car and took a deep breath when she came to the marker for the Golden Glade Ranch. She thought the same thing now that she’d thought when she came this way for her initial interview. Sheriff Pete Higgins’s ranch was simply magnificent.
It sat on what she figured to be over two hundred acres of land. On one side of the ranch house were rows and rows of pear trees, which fared surprisingly well in Denver’s cold weather. On the other side she saw herds of beautiful horses running in a gated area.
Inwardly, she asked herself—for the umpteenth time since putting the last piece of her luggage inside the car—if she was making the right move. Now it went beyond just her personal finances. She was dealing with her peace of mind. A part of her had hoped Wallace would call so she could tell him the change of plans. That she’d been hired as a nanny after all. Then she would tell him about her misgivings.

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