Chapter 1
Chapter One
“We’re having an adventure, adventure, adventure. We’re having an adventure wherever it may go,” Sage Cartwright sang, butchering the children’s song “Following the Leader” at the top of her lungs, completely off-key and loving every second of it.
Bumping along the winding gravel driveway in her beat-up SUV, Sage drove as fast as she dared. Dust swirled behind her like a trailer-park tornado.
Remote Wyoming ranch land stretched out on both sides, wide open and rugged, with mountains standing guard in the distance. Sage had driven the forty-five minutes straight from her hometown of Wilder, fueled by cheap gas-station coffee and pure stubbornness.
Having a client so close to Wilder had never happened before. Grady Kane owned Stone Creek Ranch, and it was only thirty-eight miles outside of town. That meant she could visit her friends and grab a cinnamon roll at Bread & Batter, the best bakery in Wyoming.
You would think that, living in Wilder, she would have worked on a ranch before.
She’d heard plenty of stories about what it was like, but this would be a first for her.
Even better, she didn’t have to do any actual ranch work.
There was no way she’d be much help anyway.
If Mr. Kane doubted that fact, all she had to tell him was that, despite living in Wilder–ranch capital of the state–she was probably the only person in Wyoming who couldn’t ride a horse.
Her back and butt aching thanks to the worn driver’s seat, she leaned forward to try and get some relief. She kept forgetting to get a cushion so the springs wouldn’t keep jabbing her in the backside. But that was a problem for another day. This day was her chance to start fresh.
Sure, by Wyoming standards this ranch was small, but she preferred to think of it as cozy. Cozy meant getting to know people on more than just a “Hey, I know your name” level, right? But… what if Stone Creek Ranch turned out to be an even lonelier place than Wilder?
Not that her loneliness was Wilder’s fault. Being so DDlg-friendly, the town should be the perfect place to live. The problem was her. She would be the first to admit she wasn't your typical Little.
But she wasn’t in Wilder right now. All she had to worry about were the people living at Stone Creek Ranch.
Specifically, the precious girl who was looking to her for help.
Even if she wasn’t very good at helping herself, Sage was darn good at helping children with special emotional needs.
As a homeschool nanny, that was her whole job.
A job she was very good at, thank you very much.
But every time she met a new family, she had the same worry. What if she couldn’t connect with the family? What if Rose, the silent little girl she was supposed to help, was too far gone for anyone to reach?
Once again, that was a worry for another day.
To distract herself from the never-ending road that might just be leading to nowhere, she turned on the radio. She did her best to sing along with Jordan Davis’s song “Turn This Truck Around” and hoped it wasn’t an omen.
Her tummy tingled at the memory of the things everyone at the Haven Agency had said of the mysterious rancher who owned Stone Creek Ranch. What were their words again… “stern,” “intense,” “not exactly warm and fuzzy.”
But what about all the things they didn’t say? To her, he sounded like a great dad.
You mean a great Daddy, her needy Little chimed in.
Oh, for heaven’s sake!
The last thing she needed to be worried about was whether her new client was a Daddy.
Strong, stern ranchers weren’t all Daddies.
For that matter, they didn’t fall for the nannies they hired for their children.
Only in cheesy romance novels did that ever happen.
Even if it did, nobody would choose a Little with the kind of baggage she was carrying.
Enough! She was there to do a job, and she would do it successfully.
She squinted through the dirty windshield, hoping something–anything–would appear to end her trek.
Maybe Stone Creek Ranch was some fantasy land found only in mythology.
It sure didn’t seem to be anywhere on this road. Where was this darn ranch house?
Turning the radio back off, she belted out, “I’ll have the time of my li-i-ife,” channeling her inner Jennifer Grey, imagining the mystical Grady Kane instead of Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing, the best movie ever made.
Hey, if it happened to Baby, it could happen to Sage.
She wailed the song at the top of her lungs as a talisman against negative thoughts.
She glanced at Kiwi, her koala stuffie, the one who went with her on every new assignment.
She’d fallen in love with Kiwi the first time she’d seen her.
It wasn’t every day you saw a neon pink, purple, yellow, and green koala.
She’d known right away that Kiwi wasn’t your typical koala, just like she wasn’t a typical Little.
“Did you see me take a wrong turn and not tell me?” she asked Kiwi.
Kiwi said nothing, of course, but she could tell by the look in her stuffie’s eyes that she didn’t appreciate Sage’s tone of accusation.
Glancing back at her friend, Sage tried to make amends. “All right, all right. I’m sorry, but I’m just worried. Are you worried?”
Unfortunately, because she was looking at Kiwi, she didn’t notice the pothole in the dirt road. Her car leapt like a jackrabbit, causing Sage to hold on to the wheel for dear life. Kiwi bounced in time with the rugged road, which Sage did her best not to interpret as a nod.
“What’s that?” Sage pretended to hear Kiwi say. “You want to sing the adventure song again?”
Sage tried not to think about the fact that “adventuring” was her word for lost. She really didn’t have time to be lost right now. She scowled at the endless dirt road stretching out before her, silently vowing not to let it get the best of her.
All those stories about people following their GPS and disappearing forever swam through her mind. Maybe she should go back and get better directions.
She was about to turn around when a two-story wooden ranch home came into view. As she got closer, she took in its condition. The long front porch needed a new railing and a coat of paint. She paused. Well, it was very, uh… rustic.
Then again–with a new coat of paint and a good weeding of the flowerbeds–rustic could become charming. With the Pinterest skills she had spent years cultivating, she was perfect for the task.
Besides, who was she to be judgy? At least the people who lived here had a home to call their own.
That was more than anyone could say for her.
She’d moved out of her parents’ house when she’d graduated from college.
With the Haven Agency sending her from family to family, she hadn’t had time to find a place of her own.
If the Haven Nannies placement agency thought she could handle it, she wasn’t about to argue. So what if eight other nannies had come and gone over the past two years. They probably hadn’t seen it as the opportunity it was.
She wasn’t like those other women. She was different.
And not just because she had a degree and training as a homeschool nanny.
Sure, she knew how to assess and tailor curriculum for students in special circumstances.
No, she was different because she’d lived in Wilder for years.
She would live there forever if she had her way.
Wilder had helped her discover who she really was.
Before she’d moved to Wilder, she’d thought Littles and Daddies were just something you read about in books.
It was through those books that she’d recognized herself.
In Wilder, she could live the lifestyle she enjoyed.
Of course, there was the small matter of actually having a Daddy, but she had faith that would come one day as well.
But there were plenty of other reasons she was the best choice as a nanny to help Rose Kane through her battle with selective mutism. Just because Sage was in dire need of the salary and was the only one who would accept the assignment meant nothing.
Oh my God, what have I done?
Was it too late to turn around? No, that was silly. Sage parked in front of the house, killed the engine, and hopped out. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her favorite sundress, the bright yellow one with tiny white daisies, and adjusted the messy bun on top of her head.
Just stay calm, she coached herself. You are cheerful, capable, and completely unafraid. Mr. Grady Kane won’t know what hit him.
The front door opened before she even reached the porch.
Holy hell.
Nothing could have prepared her for the man who walked out of the house.
He was a giant, all height and broad shoulders with rippling muscles that proved he was no “gentleman rancher” but spent every day working his ranch.
Dark-haired and strong-jawed, he had forest-green eyes that looked straight through her.
It was like he’d just walked out of one of her Daddy books.
Her pussy clenched, and something delicious crawled across her bottom at the sight of his faded blue work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. Holy Hannah’s teacups, if she could have designed her own personal Daddy, this guy was it.
It was all she could do not to touch her hair or straighten her blouse. She would not let herself succumb to those nervous tics. He stared at her like she was some living puzzle. Or maybe a bug specimen under a microscope. Had no one notified him she was coming?
Grady’s gaze flicked past her to the beat-up SUV, then back to her face.
“Did your mother drive you here?” he asked, voice deep and rough.
Sage blinked. Um… what? “Was I supposed to bring my mother? I can call her if you like, but I don’t think she’s what you’re looking for.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How old are you?”
Sage’s spine snapped straight at his tone and insinuation. What the heck? She was old enough to do a good job. That was how old she was, and he should already know the answer to that. Haven had sent him all her credentials. Narrowing her eyes, she demanded, “How old are you?”
Great. Way to snap at the new boss. First impressions are everything, they say. If “they” were right, she was doomed. But giants should know that they’re giants and not scowl and throw mean faces at people they didn’t even know.
“Thirty-eight,” he growled.
She forced herself to keep her face blank. “Well, my clients are usually much younger. But I can see you need a lot of work, so in your case, I’ll make an exception.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
Maybe she could play it off. She laughed, as if she’d made a silly joke.
He didn’t laugh.
Nope. He didn’t even smile. Instead, he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
All righty then. So, maybe laughing wasn’t his thing. Sage flashed him a bright, cheeky smile. “I’m twenty-six. The perfect age to take care of your Rose. I can’t wait to meet her. My name is Sage. And I’m guessing you’re Grady Kane.”
Walking up the front steps, she extended her hand and held her breath.
He said nothing and didn’t take her hand. He just kept staring at her.
Seeing his hand flex, it took all she could do not to cover her bottom. When he didn’t spank her or shake her hand, she lowered hers and faked brushing off her dress. “Look how dusty it is out here.”
Finally, her temper showed up. About time.
If he thought she was some meek little thing who’d be put off by his rudeness, he had another think coming. What kind of women was he used to? Because if he thought he could intimidate her with that tall, dark, and brooding cowboy act, he was in for a surprise.
But when he dragged his tongue across his teeth, Sage could practically hear the silent, disappointed tsk he was holding back. Her cheeks burned bright red, and much to her mortification, her bottom gave a warm tingle that had no right to be happening over a man she’d just met.
Why was he looking at her like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar?
It wasn’t like she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She certainly didn’t deserve to be standing here, not even on the front porch, shifting nervously from foot to foot, feeling suddenly very Little under that stern, disapproving stare.
When he at last deigned to speak, his tone was just as stern and growly as she’d been warned. Her lady bits noticed, too.
“Yes, I’m Grady Kane, but don’t bother coming in because you’re not staying.”
Oh, no, he did not just say that.
Client or not, just who the heck did he think he was?
She planted her hands on her hips and stared him directly in the face.
“Hold on just a minute. I didn’t spend hours finding this godforsaken place just so you could blow me off without even giving me a chance.
Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m good with kids, and I’m good at what I do. Really good, and I don’t give up.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not easy to scare away either.”
Grady stared at her for a long moment, then, without a word, turned on his heel and stalked inside. When the door didn’t slam in her face, she took that as an invitation.
As far as first contacts with a client went, she’d seen train wrecks that had gone better. If she was going to keep this job, she would have to prove herself, and fast.