Chapter 6
Jameson wasn’t used to working in front of an audience, but that’s what he’d had all day in the form of two little boys.
“Watcha doin’ now?” asked the older one—Kace—from where he was perched on the top stall beam.
The late-afternoon sunshine slanted through a high open window of the barn and poured over the boy’s head, bleaching his blond hair and brightening his blue eyes—both of which were so much like Lottie’s.
“Watcha doin’ now?” The younger one parroted his brother from where he was sitting next to him.
The little fellow was named Bo. Jameson guessed that Bo took after his father with his dark hair and brown eyes.
Both were shoeless and had bare feet that were brown on the bottom. But otherwise, their trousers and shirts were in good condition, their hair combed, and their faces scrubbed. It was easy to see that they were well taken care of and well loved by both Lottie and their nursemaid, Mimmi.
“Still fixing the stall.” Jameson paused in hammering and flexed his uninjured arm, which was getting extra use since he was working one-handed as much as he could.
His wound was burning even without the jarring of a horse. He could admit Lottie had been right in making him stay back today and take it easy. She’d also been right that someone needed to remain at the house and make sure the boys and Mimmi were protected.
Even if Vinnie had indicated that he wasn’t planning to return anytime soon, Jameson didn’t trust the fellow. There was no telling what Vinnie might do next, and Jameson didn’t want Lottie and her children to be left unprotected.
Whether she wanted him to or not, Jameson was planning to find more workers for her before he moved on.
Hopefully he could track down a couple of good men who wouldn’t take advantage of her but would treat her kindly and make sure she was safe.
It was the least he could do for her after she’d taken him in as a stranger and helped him when he’d been injured.
“Why does the stall need a board that low?” Kace asked, swinging his legs. “The horse is too big to fit under it. Seems like a waste of wood if you ask me.”
Jameson hadn’t asked him. But he bit back the comment and summoned patience. “It’s safer for the horse. Besides, what if you want to put a pig or sheep or goat in here at some point?”
“I wanna get some sheep,” the younger one piped up. So far, Bo had been the quieter of the two, like Jameson. Kace was more outgoing and talkative like Coleman.
At the thought of his brother, only a year older in age, Jameson’s gut churned with familiar anger. He’d looked up to Coleman, had tagged along after him, and had probably copied him the same way Bo did with Kace.
He and Coleman had been inseparable while growing up.
He’d even considered Coleman his best friend.
When Coleman had turned eighteen and gone away to college in the East, Jameson had sorely missed him.
Course, he’d started apprenticing for Sue Ellen’s daddy at that point, hoping to become a carpenter. So he’d been busy too.
Over the four or so years of apprenticing, Jameson had fallen in love with Sue Ellen, and he’d thought she’d fallen in love with him too. They’d even started talking about marriage.
Then Coleman had come home for the summer after he’d graduated from college, before he’d started law school. The summer had turned into a nightmare—one that still haunted Jameson, one he hated thinking about, one that had changed him forever.
It had altered his relationship with Coleman too. Jameson had gone from adoring his brother to loathing him. If he never saw Coleman again, it still wouldn’t be long enough.
Kace shook his head at his little brother. “Mother said we had sheep when Father was alive, but they were too much work.”
“They won’t be too much work for me,” Bo declared in a defiant tone.
“Mother won’t let you.”
“But me like sheep.”
“Maybe when you’re older,” Kace insisted.
“I’m this many.” Bo held up his hand to display three half-cocked fingers. “Mimmi tells me I’m a big boy.”
“You’re not big yet,” Kace stated adamantly.
“Yes I am.”
“No you’re not.”
“Am too.”
Kace shook his head.
Bo’s eyes began to well with tears.
Before the two broke out in a fight—or Bo started crying—Jameson cut in. “Reckon what you boys need first is a dog.”
The two turned wide eyes upon him.
Jameson straightened and tried not to wince at the pain shooting up and down his arm. “My father always told my brothers and me that if we learned to take care of the dog, then we would be ready for something bigger.”
Even though Jameson didn’t particularly want to talk about his father, in this case, he’d do anything to avert a crisis with the two little boys.
“I want a dog,” Kace declared.
“Me too,” Bo echoed.
A dog might actually be an asset to Lottie. At the very least, it would bark and warn of strangers who might be arriving.
“Me like dogs,” Bo continued. “They’re real nice.”
“Dogs are a lot of work.” Jameson faced the two boys with his most serious expression. “You have to feed them, water them, train them to obey, groom them, and make sure they don’t get into trouble.”
Kace sat up straighter. “I can do all that.”
“Me can too.” Bo imitated his brother’s stance.
“It might feel easy at first,” Jameson cautioned. “But once the newness of having a dog wears off, that’s when you have to stick with all the work.”
At an “mm-hmm” from near the barn entrance, he shifted to find Lottie leaning against the doorframe and watching the three of them.
How long had she been standing there?
She still wore the cowboy hat she’d donned before leaving earlier in the day. Her face was flushed—probably from the sunshine—and her clothing and cowboy boots were dusty.
But holy smokes, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
Her features were smooth and pretty and perfect, especially her mouth, which was slightly open and curled up just a little at the corners.
The men’s clothing she wore fit tighter today than what she’d worn yesterday, revealing that womanly body of hers that could set any fellow to drooling.
He swallowed hard so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself with drool and then nodded at her to acknowledge her presence. Her horse and Enrique’s were waiting just outside, still saddled and bridled.
The old ranch hand wasn’t in sight, but from what Jameson had witnessed so far of the fellow, he was loyal and loving toward Lottie and her boys. He had apparently been born mostly deaf—if what the boys had said was true—and he communicated by spelling things out and making signs with his fingers.
Lottie pushed away from the door. “So you’re trying to convince my sons to get a dog?”
Jameson hesitated. Had he overstepped himself in making the suggestion? What if she didn’t want a dog? What if she didn’t think her boys were ready for it?
“Hi, Mother.” Kace began to climb down from his perch. “Bo wanted to get a sheep, and I told him we weren’t old enough for it.”
Bo scrambled after his brother. “Me old enough. Me promise.”
“Mr. Noble told us that his father made him have a dog first.”
“Is that right?” Lottie raised her brow at Jameson.
“How were the cattle?” Nothing like changing the subject to get him out of trouble.
“The cattle were just fine.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
She was drawing nearer, and the sunlight coming in through the window made the blue of her eyes almost iridescent. “We drove them to fresh grass.”
“They probably needed it.”
“One of the calves got out of the roped-in enclosure, but thankfully she stayed close to the herd.”
“Probably not weaned yet?”
“No. Might have to bring her back to the barn and work on that.”
“I can help.”
She nodded as she wrapped her arms around first Kace and then Bo, drawing them both into a hug. She kissed their heads, then nodded toward the house. “Time to do your chores.”
“But can we get a dog?” Kace peered up at her face, his expression earnest.
“Can we?” Bo asked, his face so full of longing, who could resist it?
Jameson should have known the boys wouldn’t let the matter go. He picked up the hammer and began to work again on the stall railing. He definitely had butted in where he shouldn’t have. He didn’t like it when people did that to him, and he shouldn’t have done it to Lottie’s boys.
“I’ll think about it.” She didn’t sound angry. “Now go on up to the house and help Mimmi.”
The two scampered off, leaving him alone with Lottie.
He couldn’t keep from glancing at her, taking her in from her hat to her boots.
She was just as pretty to look at this time as she’d been a moment ago.
In fact, she was so pretty that he couldn’t keep from staring at her face—the long lashes, her elegant cheeks, those full lips, and the smooth skin.
If she was this beautiful in dusty old men’s clothing, he didn’t want to be around when she was gussied up in a fancy gown. No doubt she’d slay every man who looked at her.
But not him. He had to stop noticing how pretty she was and couldn’t let himself think about her as anything but his boss.
“So . . .” she said slowly as her gaze lingered on his wounded shoulder. “You’re planning to get my boys a dog?”
He held himself motionless so that she wouldn’t know how much his shoulder was throbbing. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Probably not.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You do know they won’t stop talking about it now.”
“They won’t?”
“Not ever.”
“Well, shoot.” He lifted his hat and combed his hair before setting his hat back down.
She pinned him with her blue eyes. “You’ll need to fix your mistake.”
“I’ll do my best to explain to them that I was out of line—”
“No, you’ll need to get them a dog.”
“I will?”
She turned and headed back out toward her horse. “Yes. I hope you know where to find one.”
“Reckon I can track one down.” He wasn’t sure about that, but if she was willing to let the boys have a dog, he’d search all of South Texas until he found one.
“Good,” she called over her shoulder. “Next time we go to town, you can ask around.”
He sucked in a breath. Lottie Wilkes was a good woman. That was easy to see. She was a hard worker, a loving mother, and a fair boss.
Maybe he ought to stay longer than the month.
As soon as the thought came, he shoved it aside.
No, he had to keep himself at arm’s length from her.
The woman and her kids were already starting to grow on him after just one day.
How much more would he like them after a month?
The fact was, he wasn’t at a place in his life where he was ready for attachments—not to a woman and most certainly not to any children.
“You’ll join us for supper in an hour,” she said as she led her horse into the barn.
“I couldn’t—”
“It’s our custom here to share the evening meal.”
Eating with this woman and her two children wouldn’t help him stay at arm’s length. Rather, eating with them would probably pull him right in. But he couldn’t argue with her about it, especially not after how decent she’d been about the whole dog incident.
“I see you’ve been doing things you shouldn’t today.” She nodded at the hammer in his hand as she passed by with her horse.
“Just making a few repairs.”
“More than a few.” Her tone held censure.
He didn’t reply. What could he say?
“You should have taken it easy today.”
“I did.”
Easing her horse into one of the stalls, she shook her head and made a scoffing sound. “Well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She was quiet a moment. “The repairs look good. It’s clear you’re talented.”
He didn’t mind making simple repairs. That was just part of being a cowboy on a ranch.
But if she was expecting him to explain where he’d learned his carpentry skills, she’d be waiting forever.
He wasn’t about to dredge up the past. When Sue Ellen had died, he’d packed up his carpentry tools, and he didn’t plan to use them ever again.
He gave Lottie a nod. “Thank you, ma’am.” Then he gathered up the supplies and left the barn.