The Rancher’s Temporary Nanny

Laura Lee has longed for a child of her own—but she never expected one would suddenly appear on the school steps. With a note begging her to raise the baby girl, the teacher must find a new home since there’s a rule against children in the boardinghouse. Her only option is becoming a temporary live-in nanny for a rancher.

Widowed single father Clint Shepard needs a nanny for his daughter immediately—even if hiring Laura means he’ll have to find someone else in a few months when school starts up. But after spending time with her and the little girl she’s raising, he starts falling for them, and wishing their arrangement could be permanent.

RHONDA GIBSON lives in New Mexico with her husband, James. She has two children and three beautiful grandchildren. Reading is something she has enjoyed her whole life, and writing stemmed from that love. When she isn’t writing or reading, she enjoys gardening, beading and playing with her dog, Sheba. You can visit her at rhondagibson.net. Rhonda hopes her writing will entertain, encourage and bring others closer to God.

Also By Rhonda Gibson

Love Inspired Historical

The Marshal’s Promise

Groom by Arrangement

Taming the Texas Rancher

His Chosen Bride

A Pony Express Christmas

The Texan’s Twin Blessings

A Convenient Christmas Bride

Baby on Her Doorstep

Saddles and Spurs

Pony Express Courtship

Pony Express Hero

Pony Express Christmas Bride

Pony Express Mail-Order Bride

Pony Express Special Delivery

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Baby on Her Doorstep

Rhonda Gibson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08440-6

BABY ON HER DOORSTEP

© 2018 Rhonda Gibson

Published in Great Britain 2018

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.

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Was Mr. Shepard the answer to her prayers?

He took a deep breath, then blurted, “I’m looking for a nanny for my daughter, Grace. If you take the job, you’ll need to move out to the ranch. I will make sure that you make more than what you do now as a teacher. I’ll double what they are paying you to teach.”

Laura needed the money. If she could work until planting season was over and school started back, maybe she’d make enough money to buy her own house.

She swallowed. “Mr. Shepard, I have no desire to give up my teaching position. School is closed for the summer until the end of the harvest planting. My goal is to obtain a house for myself and Hope by that time.”

Clint nodded. “I see. What if I promise to help you look for a house and you work for me until school resumes?”

Laura’s gaze moved to the two little girls sitting on the floor at their feet. Grace’s small voice was speaking in low tones to Hope. Hope sucked her thumb and nodded as if in agreement with Grace. Would Hope become attached to Grace if Laura took the job and they moved to the ranch? Or worse, would she?

Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

—Joshua 1:9

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this book. I hope you enjoyed it. Clint and Laura’s story is my last book for the Love Inspired Historical romance line. I’m going to miss writing for this line but know that God has other plans. If you enjoy reading my historical novels, please know that I have more coming out, and you can learn about them by going to www.rhondagibson.net.

I love hearing from my readers, so please feel free to write to me at rhondagibson65@hotmail.com or send a note to: Rhonda Gibson, P.O. Box 835, Kirtland, NM 87417.

Until we meet again,

Warmly,

Rhonda Gibson

This book is dedicated to my readers—thank you so much for reading my books and supporting my writing. You are the reason I write.

James Gibson, I wouldn’t be able to write the stories of my heart without your help. Thank you, Michelle Matney—you pulled my bacon out of the fire this time. You’re the best.

Above all, thank You, Lord, for letting me write for You.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Glory, Texas March 1884

Something placed beside the door, wrapped in a blanket, was the last thing Laura Lee expected to see when she arrived at the steps of the one-room schoolhouse. Laura swallowed hard. Her eyes narrowed, and her heart pounded in her chest. She whispered to herself, “What is that?”

Ignoring the chill that lingered in the morning mist, Laura looked up the steps. She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders. “Well, standing down here won’t answer my question, now, will it?” she asked, reminding herself mentally that she was doing it again. Talking to herself.

Laura raised her chin, squared her shoulders and climbed the steps, keeping her focus on the bundle at the top. “Jess Parker could have left some sort of wild animal in that bundle to scare me,” she muttered, thinking of one of her favorite students. Jess was older than the other boys and always full of mischief.

Once at the top of the stairs, she looked down into the face of a sweet, rosy-cheeked child. Long blond lashes feathered under its eyes. The blanket rose and fell gently as the child slept peacefully.

Laura looked about but saw no one. Bending, she unpinned a note from the soft blanket. Her fingers itched to touch the child’s soft blond curls. Instead she unfolded the paper and read.

“Mrs. Lee, please take care of my little girl. Her name is Hope and she is a year old. I know you are kind and will make a good mother for her. She is a good eater and in good health. Thank you.”

Laura turned the note over in her hands. Was this real? Had someone, perhaps one of her former students, just given her a child? Her gaze moved back to the sleeping little girl.

Hope.

How many times had she asked God for a child? And now ironically was given one named Hope? Laura picked up the little girl who continued to sleep deeply. She was small to be a year old. Was that why her mother had pointed out she was a good eater and in good health?

Laura cuddled the sweet bundle close. She couldn’t just take her home. Could she? She looked about once more, searching for Hope’s mother. Was the letter legal? Could she keep her? What was her landlady, Mrs. Potter, going to say if she returned to the boardinghouse with the child?

Laura looked down the dirt street at the small town. It was growing every day. Thanks to the lumber business, it had two sawmills, a general store with a built-in pharmacy, two churches, a bakery and a saloon. If only it had two boardinghouses, but it didn’t. If Mrs. Potter held to her rule of no children allowed, Laura didn’t know what she’d do with Hope.

The baby squirmed in her arms. Hope continued to sleep as she worked an arm out of the blanket and stuck two fingers in her small mouth. Then she snuggled against Laura once more.

Motherly instinct swelled in Laura. She gently rocked the baby and sighed. Then Laura straightened her spine and whispered, “You stop right now, Laura Lee. Dreaming and wishing has never gotten you anywhere.” Her gaze returned to the bundle in her arms. “Oh, but I do want to keep you.” She hugged the child closer.

It seemed odd that four years after her husband Charles’s death, she’d been given a child to raise. Laura looked about once more, then started back down the schoolhouse steps. Before she got her hopes up, she’d make sure that she could truly keep the baby.

Thinking of Charles brought about fresh hurt to her wounded heart. He’d wanted children so badly. And she’d disappointed him. How many times after they’d realized she could not bear children had he told her of his disappointment? Too many to count. It wasn’t just his words but the look in his eyes that had cut her to the core. The references that never having a son to carry on the good Lee name was a crying shame. It was her shame that he referred to.

Laura pushed the pain aside and hurried her footsteps toward town. She decided to take the side streets to avoid the many questions that would arise at the sight of her holding a child. Her gaze moved to the sleeping face. Little Hope must be very tired to sleep through the jarring of being held while Laura walked down the dusty roads.

She rushed to the sheriff’s office and slipped inside. Closing the door quickly, Laura turned to find a bemused lawman sitting behind an old wooden desk. For the first time in her life, she was at a loss for words. How did you explain to the town sheriff that someone had dropped a child on your doorstep?

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee.” The sheriff stood and came around the front of the desk. “Please, have a seat.” Once she was seated he continued. “What can I help you with?”

Laura looked down at the child and into the purest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Hope smiled around her fingers. Laura’s heart melted. Someone had given her this sweet child. She knew she’d do all in her power to take care of little Hope and give her a good home. She sat Hope up. “Sheriff, I’d like for you to meet Hope.” She wished with all her heart that she knew where the child had come from. Could she be the product of one of her former students?

He didn’t blink an eye. The sheriff reached out and took the little girl’s small hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Hope.”

Hope continued to look up at him with big eyes and a grin.

“I didn’t know you had a little girl, Mrs. Lee. Where have you been hiding her?” He leaned a hip against his desk and crossed his arms.

He was teasing her and she knew it. The sheriff was a good man who enjoyed a smile or two wherever they could be found. Laura wondered why the child hadn’t asked for her mother but hugged her closer. “Well, I can’t claim her just yet. This morning I found her sleeping on the school porch.” Laura pulled the note from Hope’s blanket and handed it to him. “This was pinned to her blanket.” She held her breath as he read.

His gaze moved to hers. “Mrs. Potter isn’t going to let you keep her at the boardinghouse, you know.”

The sheriff lived at the boardinghouse also and knew Mrs. Potter’s rules just as she did. “Well, I’m going to ask, but if she says no, I’ll have to find a new place to live. I don’t think she’s so hard-hearted that she won’t give me time to find us a new home.”

He nodded.

“What I need to know is—” She paused. “Can I keep her?”

His gaze moved over the paper once more. “Well, the letter is addressed to you, and the request is clear. I’d say yes. But I’ve a feeling there is more to this than meets the eye. I’ll need to do some investigating. I’d hate to think this young lady’s ma is in danger, but it’s odd that a mother would just abandon her child like this.”

Laura wanted to argue it happened all the time in the big cities, but this wasn’t a big city, and people didn’t drop off their children on doorsteps here. No, he was right. She couldn’t just claim the child, even if she had been delivered like a sack of potatoes.

He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Laura. You can’t just keep her. Judge Miller will be coming to town around the first of next month. He’ll make the final decision as to if you can keep her.”

“Are you going to keep her until then?” Laura asked, looking about the dusty jailhouse.

His gaze followed hers. “Naw, I don’t reckon I am. You can keep her with you, if you want to, until the judge arrives next month.”

Joy jumped in her heart. He’d said she could keep Hope, at least until Judge Miller arrived. By then the judge would see just how attached she and the child were to each other. He was a kind man. He’d let her keep Hope. Laura was sure of it.

Now all she had to do was convince Mrs. Potter to let her keep Hope. Or she’d have to find a new place to live that would let her keep the child with her. But where? She was a schoolteacher on a small budget. Could she afford more than the boardinghouse’s fee of two dollars a week?

* * *

Clint Shepard held his daughter, Grace, close. The little girl was sound asleep, something he was grateful for. The two-year-old was a chatterbox. She’d talked most of the way to town. If he could have understood half of it, Clint would have been a happy man.

He pulled the wagon up in front of the jailhouse, hoping his friend the sheriff could help him find a nanny for Grace. Normally, he left Grace with her wet nurse when he came to town, but once those services were no longer needed, she and her husband had moved to Colorado. Since his housekeeper refused to watch the child, Clint had brought her with him. Besides, he’d decided along the way that it would be good for Grace to meet her nanny before he hired her.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Camelia Murphy, had warned him that he’d better come home with a nanny for Grace or she was quitting. She’d said she was too old to be chasing after a toddler. Unfortunately, Clint had to agree. She was a great housekeeper and cook, but when it came to running after a small child who raced around the house like the barn was on fire, well, Mrs. Murphy just didn’t have the stamina to do so.

Clint held Grace to his chest with one hand and tied the horse to the hitching post in front of the jailhouse with the other. He heard the door open and looked up, expecting to see his friend. Instead, a pretty woman with brown hair and red highlights that caught the noonday sun stood in the doorway. Big green eyes looked in his direction. She held a little girl on her hip and smiled.

The sheriff followed her out on to the porch. “I’m looking forward to hearing what Mrs. Potter has to say about the little one.”

“I’ll let you know.” She turned and walked down the boardwalk away from him.

To Clint her voice sounded almost like a song. It was soft with just the right cadence to make him pay attention. He watched her walk down the wooden walkway. Grace stirred against him, reminding him that he had better things to do than stare after a pretty lady.

He turned to find the sheriff watching him. “What brings you into town, Clint?”

“I need a nanny, Matt. Mrs. Murphy is threatening to quit. This little girl can be a handful.”

The sheriff laughed and stepped back inside his office. “Come on inside. I might have just the person you need.”

Clint followed. “Who?”

Matt walked to his desk and sat down. He propped his boots up and pushed his hat back. “Well, that lady who caught your eye a few moments ago comes to mind.”

Caught his eye? No, Clint had vowed after his wife Martha’s death not to become involved with a woman again. Martha had died from an infection shortly after having Grace. Clint didn’t think he could go through that heartache again. And no pretty face was going to change that.

Clint frowned. Instead of dwelling on his wife’s death or his fear of being hurt again, he asked, “What makes you think she’d like to be a nanny?”

“Well, for starters she’s the schoolteacher here in town and loves children.”

Clint rubbed his chin where Grace’s hair tickled it. “That is nice, but does she want to stop teaching?”

The sheriff shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the school is closed for the next couple of months for planting season. She might be interested in earning some extra money, and it would give you more time to search for a real nanny.”

Clint thought for a few moments. Did he want a temporary nanny? She could be a quick solution to his current problem, but he’d have to find a replacement for her. Still, like his friend said, it would give him more time to find a suitable nanny, and Mrs. Murphy wouldn’t quit if he brought home a nanny for Grace.

The sheriff chuckled. “What have you got to lose, Clint? Or, you could ask any of our unwed women to come out to your ranch. I know of at least two who would love to marry you, and then you wouldn’t need a nanny for little Grace.”

Clint ignored Matt’s joke about the other women and focused on the one he’d just seen. The last thing he wanted was another wife. “Do you know if she’s looking for work?” Clint shifted Grace into a more comfortable position.

“There’s only one way to find out. Go ask her.” He picked up a faded wanted poster and studied the picture.

“Where does she live? I’ll tell her you recommended her.” He waited to see what kind of reaction Matt would have.

Matt looked up. “She lives at the boardinghouse on the corner of Elm and Third Street.” He pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t reckon you noticed she was carrying a little girl, did you?”

So, they lived at the same boardinghouse. It was his experience that only single people lived in boardinghouses. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matt might be interested in the pretty green-eyed lady romantically himself. Maybe that’s why she’d been visiting his office. It was possible she was sweet on the good sheriff. But then again, like Matt had just pointed out, she had a small child with her. “I did. Is she married?”

Matt chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “No, she’s a widow now. Her name is Laura Lee. Laura’s a fine woman who loves children.”

“That’s good enough for me. I don’t mind her having a child.” He rubbed his chin across Grace’s feather-soft baby head. “I like them.”

Matt grinned. “I’m glad.”

Clint realized how silly his words must sound to the bachelor sheriff, who had no children. “Well, I’ll be heading over to the boardinghouse. Is it all right if I leave Shadow and the wagon tied to your hitching post for a while?”

The sheriff nodded. “How long are you in town for?”

“I’ll be here as long as it takes to get a nanny. Mrs. Murphy has threatened to quit if I return home alone.” He hugged Grace close. “In her words...” Using his best imitation of Camelia’s Irish accent, he continued, “‘A two-year-old is too active for a woman in her sixties who has a house to run and meals to cook. You’d best be sure to find someone, Mr. Shepard, or I will be going to live with my cousin, Darby. And you know I’ll do it, too.’”

Matt laughed. “I can just hear her. Did she shake her finger at you?”

“Yep. So I’m hoping it doesn’t take more than a day or two to find just the right person. I want someone who will be good to Grace. If she doesn’t like Mrs. Lee, I’ll keep looking.”

Concern filled Matt’s face. “What about the ranch?”

“It will be all right for a couple of days. I left Richard Turner in charge.”

Matt rubbed his chin. “Yep, Rich is a good man.”

Richard was a good man. He had lost his wife to the fever that had swept the town the year before Grace had been born. If it hadn’t been for Richard, Clint wasn’t sure how he would have continued running the ranch after Martha’s death. Grief had seemed to fill his brain with a dense fog, and he’d had a new infant to care for.

Clint opened the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes with Mrs. Lee when I come back for the wagon.”

Matt nodded and returned his focus to the wanted posters. Clint closed the door and turned toward Elm Street. He grinned, pleased with the fact that finding a potential nanny hadn’t been so hard after all. And if Mrs. Lee took the job, he felt pretty sure that she’d be more interested in taking care of his daughter than landing a rancher husband for herself.

Matt didn’t seem to view her as a potential bride, but Mrs. Lee might have her heart set on the sheriff. He remembered the look of happiness on her face as she’d left the sheriff’s office. It was the expression of a woman in love. And if she was in love with Matt, it was a sure sign that she wouldn’t be looking to him as future husband material.

Chapter Two

Laura had been trying for the last thirty minutes to persuade Mrs. Potter to let her keep Hope at the boardinghouse.

The older woman touched a strand of Hope’s hair. “I’m sorry, Laura, but even as sweet as she is, I can’t have a small child living here.”

“I understand. I’m paid to the end of the week. Can we stay until then? I need time to find another place to live.” Laura watched as Hope silently played with a ball of yarn that Mrs. Potter had pulled from her knitting basket for her. She calculated the amount of money she’d saved from teaching and knew it wasn’t enough to buy a house. Perhaps someone would have one she could rent, although Laura doubted it.

“Yes, but no longer. I don’t mean to be hard-hearted, but I’ll need to rent your room out as quickly as possible.” She returned to her knitting.

Laura picked up Hope. The child had played silently at their feet. It worried Laura that Hope hadn’t asked for her ma or even attempted to communicate since she’d woken from her nap. “Thank you.” She carried Hope up to her room.

She’d lived at the boardinghouse for four years. After Charles had died, Laura tried to make their little farm her home but without him selling cotton, she’d had no income to pay the land payment. She’d been forced to return the farm to the bank and take the teaching job in town.

Her gaze moved about the small space she now called home. When she’d moved in, Laura had sewn new curtains for the windows, added a colorful quilt to the bed and braided a nice-looking rug for the floor. Pretty dollies lay on the dresser and side table. Her writing desk rested under the window. Laura had created many lesson plans there. Laura sighed, aware of just how much she was going to miss this room.

Hope laid her head on Laura’s shoulder. The little girl still clutched the yarn ball in her tiny hand. Her stomach growled loud enough for Laura to hear it. “Oh, my! I think there is a bear in your tummy,” she teased the little girl. Hope raised her head and grinned. She pointed to her mouth, indicating she was hungry.

Laura frowned. “Can you say you’re hungry?”

Hope pointed to her mouth again and smiled as if pleased that she’d done as Laura had asked.

She sat the little girl on the bed. “We’ll go to Pearl’s restaurant for lunch. Do you want to go eat?”

Hope continued playing with the ball.

Laura sighed. Hope hadn’t heard her. She feared the child couldn’t hear. She folded Hope’s blanket and set it on the chair. Then she pulled a small shawl from the closet and wrapped it about Hope. “Come on, sweetie. We are going to lunch and then go to see Dr. Stewart.”

She picked up Hope and headed down the stairs. The little girl held tightly to her yarn ball. Laura heard Mrs. Potter in the entryway speaking in low tones to a man. His voice carried up the stairs that she was swiftly descending.

Laura bitterly thought that the older woman was probably interviewing someone to take her room. She continued down the steps. Worry ate at her. Where was she going to find another place to live? She had money tucked away, but there wasn’t enough there to purchase a small house. Maybe in another year she’d have enough, but not today. Perhaps the bank held a small farm house that she could rent.

As she stepped off the bottom stair, Mrs. Potter and the man turned to face her. Laura paused. Wasn’t this the gentleman who’d arrived at the sheriff’s office just as she’d been leaving?

“Oh, good. I won’t have to send for you, Mrs. Lee. This gentleman has asked to see you.” Mrs. Potter glanced from her to the man waiting.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter.” She turned to look at him. Did he know something about Hope? Who she belonged to? Had he come to claim Hope as part of his family?

A little girl stood beside him, holding his pinky finger in her small hand. Big brown eyes looked from her to Hope. She tugged at his hand and chattered something, but the language was baby gibberish.

He smiled at the child. “I don’t know, Grace. You’ll have to ask Mrs. Lee.” Dark brown eyes rose and met hers.

He’d understood what the little girl had said?

Hope began pushing away from Laura, trying to get down to Grace. Laura hung on to her tighter. She jiggled the child against her hip to get her attention and then looking her in the eyes, said, “Hope, be still.” Her tone was that of a schoolteacher.

The child immediately stopped and laid her head on Laura’s shoulder. Laura rubbed her small back. Hope seemed to be a well-behaved child.

The handsome man nodded. “That’s a nice trick, Mrs. Lee. Maybe you could teach it to me someday.”

Laura frowned. “You seem to know me, sir, but I don’t know you.” She’d seen him around town before today, but they had never spoken. Had someone pointed her out to him?

Mrs. Potter’s head swung from one to the other. Laura wanted to ask her to leave but at the same time was happy that she’d stayed. This man was a stranger to her and yet knew her name.

He stepped forward with his free hand extended. “I’m sorry. I’m Clint Shepard. I’m looking for a nanny for Grace here, and the sheriff suggested you.”

Laura shook his hand, just as she would one of her students’ fathers. She tilted her head and gazed at Mr. Shepard. Was he the answer to her prayers? The sheriff wouldn’t have sent a dangerous man to look for her, if he didn’t think Mr. Shepard could help her with her current situation.

“If you are interested, it would mean moving out to my ranch.” He shifted his booted feet as if wanting to leave and yet knowing he needed to stay.

She indicated the bench that rested against the wall beside the stairs. “Perhaps you’d like to explain what you are offering, Mr. Shepard.” Laura sat Hope down.

Hope waited until Mr. Shepard had sat down and then toddled over to the other little girl who stood in front of her father.

He took a deep breath and then blurted, “I have a housekeeper and cook, but she refuses to take on the care of my daughter, Grace, too. So, if you will take the job, you’ll need to move out to the ranch. You and your little girl will be given a room next to Grace’s, and I will make sure that you make more than what you do now as a teacher.”

Did he know that she made forty dollars a month as a schoolteacher? “Do you have any idea what this town pays a schoolteacher, Mr. Shepard?”

He grinned and nodded. Grace jabbered something to him, while tugging at his leg. Clint reached down and touched the top of her head. “We’ll go in a moment, Grace.”

Laura needed the money. If she could work until planting season was over and school started back, maybe she’d make enough money to buy a house in town or at least rent something. “How much more are we talking?”

His head came up and a look of hope entered his eyes. “I’ll double what they are paying you.”

She swallowed. “Mr. Shepard. I have no desire to give up my teaching position. As you are aware, school is closed for the summer until the end of the harvest, but as soon as harvest is over, I’ll resume my job.” For some reason, Laura found herself sharing more than she normally would. “My goal is to obtain a house for myself and Hope by that time.”

Clint nodded. “I see. What if I promise to help you look for a house and you work for me until school resumes?”

Laura’s gaze moved to the two little girls who were sitting on the floor at their feet. Grace’s small voice was speaking in low tones to Hope. Hope sucked her thumb and nodded as if in agreement with Grace. Would Hope become attached to Grace, if she took the job and moved to the ranch? Or worse, would she?

* * *

Clint held his breath while he waited for Mrs. Lee to make up her mind. If she accepted his proposal, he’d have to find another nanny to replace her, but at least he wouldn’t be rushed, like he was right now.

“My board is paid until the end of the week here. I’d like to pray about it.” Laura studied the children at their feet.

He nodded. “I realize you need the time, but I also have a ranch to run. I’d planned on staying in town until tomorrow, and even though I’d love to give you the extra days, I really can’t stay longer than that.”

“I’ll have an answer for you in the morning. Is that satisfactory?” Laura asked.

He heard the schoolteacher tone in her voice. If he didn’t miss his guess, Clint was pretty sure it didn’t matter if it was agreeable to him or not, she’d not have a solid answer until then. Clint turned his attention to the boardinghouse owner, put on his most charming smile and asked, “Would it be possible for me to rent a room for the night?”

The older woman frowned. “I don’t normally allow children to live here, Mr. Shepard.”

His mind raced. Where else could he rent a room? The hotel was still in the process of being built, so that wasn’t an option. He looked down at Grace. Why hadn’t he considered that the boardinghouse wouldn’t accept children? Since he’d never had need to stay overnight in town before, he’d not considered that the boardinghouse might be full or not have room for children within its walls.

Mrs. Potter sighed and looked down at the two children. “I suppose one night won’t hurt, but I’ll not allow it again.” Mrs. Potter gave him a stern look.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll keep Grace as quiet as I possibly can.” Clint looked down at his chattering daughter and wondered if he’d be able to keep that promise.

Grace prattled up at him and pointed to Hope. Hope pointed to her heart-shaped mouth and pointed inside. It was obvious his daughter and little Hope were hungry.

“All right, Grace.” He looked to Laura. “Would you ladies like to join us for lunch?”

Grace pulled on Hope’s arms until she stood steadily on her feet. The two children looked up at Laura expectantly. Did she understand the children were waiting to go eat?

Laura grinned. “I see that I am outnumbered. We are going to go over to Miss Pearl’s for lunch. You and Grace are welcome to join us.” She picked up the ball of yarn Hope had been playing with and dropped it into her handbag. Then Laura scooped up Hope and swung the child on to her hip.

Grace tugged on his shirt. Clint lifted his daughter up and set her on his shoulders. “Then that sounds like a nice place for us to go, too. I’ve never eaten there. I usually do my business and get right back to the ranch.”

Mrs. Potter snorted. “Dinner is at six.” She left the room with her skirts swirling around her.

Clint followed Laura and Hope out the door. Why hadn’t Laura had lunch at the boardinghouse? Maybe the food wasn’t as good there as it was at Pearl’s.

He stepped into place beside Laura when she made room on the sidewalk for him. Grace giggled and chattered above his head. “She really is a talker, isn’t she?” Laura grinned up at Grace.

“That she is. I just wish I understood more of what she’s saying.” Clint patted the little girl’s leg. In return, she patted the top of his head.

Laura laughed.

Clint grinned. He had to admit that he’d not heard a woman’s rich laughter in a long time and to be honest, he’d missed the sound. His gaze moved about the town of Glory.

It was growing. Lumber and farmland were both plentiful, and men from all over were coming to Glory. The sound of hammers pounding a steady beat filled his ears as they passed the construction of the new hotel.

Laura stopped in front of the restaurant and opened the door for him to pass. He ducked low, so as not to hit Grace’s head. Once inside they were immediately greeted by a redheaded woman with green eyes and a rich Irish accent.

Clint pulled Grace from his shoulders and set her on the floor beside him. He held tight to the little girl’s hand and smiled at the lady. Grace chattered happily, probably telling him that this woman had an accent just like his housekeeper, Mrs. Murphy.

“Hello, Laura.” The woman reached out and touched Hope’s fine blond curls. “Who is this sweet little lamb?”

Laura’s lips tipped into a soft smile. “Pearl, I’d like you to meet Hope.”

“Hope?” Fine red eyebrows went up into the woman’s hairline. “Now that’s a pretty name.”

What was this? If Laura really was the schoolteacher, wouldn’t everyone know the child? Especially since this little girl was at least a year old? He’d assumed Hope was her daughter. Had he assumed wrong?

Chapter Three

Laura smiled at her friend. “Yes, Hope. I’ll tell you more about her tomorrow morning. Maybe we can grab a cup of coffee and a sweet roll?”

Pearl looked to the handsome man standing beside Laura and nodded. “I would enjoy that.”

Confusion lined Clint’s forehead as he looked from her to Pearl. His gaze shifted to Hope and then back up to Laura. She sighed, knowing he had questions about the little girl who snuggled against her as if seeking assurance that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“If you two will follow me, I’ll get you a quiet corner in the back.” Pearl grabbed two menus and began leading the way.

Laura followed Pearl, aware that Clint and Grace followed her. She wondered how much Hope and Grace would understand when she explained Hope’s circumstances to the rancher.

Pearl stopped beside a small square table with four chairs and asked, “Is this all right?”

Clint nodded. He helped Grace into one of the chairs. Laura was aware of the muscles that worked across his shoulders as she helped Hope into her chair. She pulled her gaze away from him and focused on the place settings in front of her.

Pearl ran a respectable restaurant and made sure that each table had nice place settings. The linens were clean and the food always good.

Once they were seated, Pearl handed them menus. “Today’s special is roast beef sandwiches and fried potatoes. What can I get you to drink?”

Laura answered, “Hope and I will have milk, please.” She looked to Clint.

He grinned up at Pearl. “I’d like a hot cup of coffee for myself and a glass of milk for Grace.”

For the first time, Laura allowed herself to really examine him. His rich brown hair curled about his collar as if it had a mind of its own. The deep richness of his hair seemed to pull the bottomless blue from his eyes. He was muscular and lean. A working man.

Laura’s gaze moved to Pearl, who still stood beside their table. The other woman seemed captivated by the blue of his eyes, as well. She smiled like a schoolgirl at him. A soft pink filled her cheeks in just the few moments she’d been standing there.

Laura cleared her throat. “Hope and I will share the special. Can I substitute mashed potatoes with gravy for the fried potatoes?”

As if taken by surprise, Pearl jumped. “I’ll, uh, go get your drinks.”

Pearl hadn’t heard anything she’d said. Laura shook her head in amusement. Mr. Shepard was a nice-looking man, but personally she didn’t see him as a distraction.

Laura turned to make sure Hope was behaving. The little girl had decided to stand up in the chair and reach across the table to take Grace’s hands in hers. “No, sweetie. We do not stand in chairs.” Laura gently sat her back down. She handed Hope the ball of yarn from her handbag, then gave Grace a spoon that rested on a napkin beside her plate. The little girls immediately began to play with their items.

Clint chuckled. “You have a way with children, Mrs. Lee.”

“I’m a schoolteacher, Mr. Shepard. It’s my job to have a way with children.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.

Pearl returned with their drinks and a basket of bread. She placed each person’s drink in front of them and the bread in the center of the table. “I have your order going in the kitchen, Laura, but I seem to have forgotten to take yours, Mr.—?” She turned and smiled sweetly at Clint.

“Shepard. Grace and I will share the special also, but I’d like to add a steak to my order.” He smiled up at her, flashing white teeth in her direction.

Laura noticed a small gap in his front two teeth and thought it charming. She quickly turned her attention to the girls. Grace had decided to stand up in her chair and help herself to the bread. Laura took the bread from her and frowned. “Grace, sit down, please.”

Clint turned at the sharpness of her voice. He started to say something, but Laura stopped him with a stern look. If he wanted her to help him with the child, he’d have to let her do it her way. He turned back to Pearl. Grace was a handful, and because she’d never had a mother, he’d let her get away with much more than he probably should have. “I’d like that steak cooked medium well.”

Laura focused on Grace. When the little girl was seated once more, she tore the slice of bread in half and gave each of the girls their portion.

Grace babbled, “Tant too,” then tore into the bread with her tiny teeth.

Hope smiled and did the same.

“I’ll be right back with your orders,” Pearl stammered as she backed away from the table.

Laura giggled. Pearl was clearly smitten by Clint Shepard.

He turned and looked at her and the girls. “What is so funny?”

She leaned forward. “I do believe you have an admirer, Mr. Shepard.”

Clint frowned. “I’m not interested.”

Laura sat back and studied him. “Why not? Pearl is an attractive woman with her own business. Most men fall all over themselves for her attention.”

He shook his head. “I suppose I’m not most men.” He pulled the napkin off the table and tucked it into the front of his shirt.

“I suppose not.” She looked to where Pearl could be seen pouring coffee into one of the local lumbermen’s cups. The man looked as smitten with Pearl as she had with Clint.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” Clint asked, reaching for a slice of the bread.

Laura knew what he wanted to know. “Does it have anything to do with being Grace’s nanny?”

“Yes and no.” He bit off a chunk of the bread and chewed.

She smoothed her napkin on her lap and nodded.

Clint leaned across the table and asked in a very low voice, “Is Hope your daughter? Or not?”

Laura sighed. “Yes and no.”

He chuckled. “I see. Which is it?”

She took the note from her bag and handed it across the table. Laura watched his blue eyes scan the paper. He looked to her and quirked an eyebrow.

“As you can read, that paper says she is. I spoke to the sheriff this morning and he confirmed that she is mine, at least for the time being. He’s searching for her parents, and when the judge arrives next month, well, he’ll have the final say.” Laura held out her hand for the note. The last thing she wanted to do was lose that piece of paper. It was the only thing that proved Hope had been given to her.

Clint handed it over. Pearl walked back to the table with her arms laden with plates. Laura waited until the other woman left and asked, “Does this make a difference in your job offer?”

“No, if Matt thinks you are fit to take care of one little girl and the school board has placed the care of all the children in the community to you, who am I to say you aren’t fit to be a mother and a nanny?” He spooned potatoes onto Grace’s plate.

Laura smiled. “Thank you.” She prepared Hope’s plate. She prayed the circuit judge thought the same way as Clint Shepard.

“Does that mean you will take the job?” He cut the sandwich into four pieces and handed one of them to Grace.

“Maybe, but I still want to pray about it this afternoon before I decide, Mr. Shepard. I’m sure I will have an answer for you tonight or first thing in the morning.” Laura knew she needed to pray before making this important decision even though she felt comfortable with Clint Shepard and his daughter.

He nodded. “Speaking of prayer, how about I bless this food and let’s eat?”

She smiled. “That would be very nice, thank you.” Laura listened to his short blessing and knew that he was her answer from God. With the job Clint Shepard offered, she’d have enough money come summer to buy a small house for her and Hope to live in. If the judge let her keep Hope.

After lunch, Laura took Hope to the doctor. The little girl sat on Laura’s lap while Dr. Stewart shone a light into her ears. He whispered into her ears, first the left, then her right. She responded as long as he stayed on the right side of her. Laura watched, fascinated with Dr. McAlester’s manner of learning about the child’s hearing.

He stood and looked at Laura. “This little girl doesn’t hear with her left ear. Her right seems to be fine, but I think you’ll need to make sure that you are on her right side, if you want her to hear you.” He picked up a candle and tilted Hope’s head to the right so that he could see into the left.

Concern filled Laura. Could Hope function like any other child, when she could only hear with one ear? “What can we do? Is this something we can fix?”

Dr. McAlester shook his head. “I’m just a country doctor, not one of those fancy city docs with lots of new equipment, but from what I can see...” He bent down and shone a light into the little girl’s ear once more. “Her ear is grown up on the inside.” His gaze met Laura’s as he stood. “A city doctor might be willing to try going in and cutting that layer of skin, but I’m not.” He set the candle on the table beside him and sighed.

“I see.”

Dr. McAlester said, “She doesn’t seem to be in any pain and isn’t running a temperature. Mrs. Lee, I believe little Hope can have a long, good life with hearing in just one ear.” He grinned at her. “Us old folks do it all the time.” His light blue eyes and silver hair gave him a friendly look that set most of his patients at ease.

Shock at his words had Laura gasping, “You can’t hear with both ears?”

“’Fraid not. Gun went off too close to my ear a few years back, and I still have a ringing in it, but no other sound can get through. Haven’t you noticed I turn my head slightly to the left when I want to hear what you’re saying?”

She shook her head. “No, sir. I hadn’t.”

Dr. McAlester put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Little Hope will adapt, too. I believe this is a result of what we call a birth defect. She doesn’t even realize she can’t hear in one ear.” He patted Hope on the head. “You can always take her to the big city and let one of those doctors look at her.”

Laura stood. “Maybe when she’s older.” She didn’t tell him that she couldn’t make that decision right now. It wasn’t hers to make, at least not until the judge came to town and gave her that right. So many decisions would need to be made when that happened.

Laura returned to the boardinghouse with a heavy heart. She and Hope both weren’t complete. Hope couldn’t hear, and Laura couldn’t have children. Bitterly she thought, it was up to her to make a life for herself and the child. What man in his right mind would take her as a wife and Hope as a daughter?

* * *

Clint pulled the wagon to the front of the boardinghouse. Relief washed over him at the sight of Laura standing at the door. She hadn’t changed her mind. Several bags and a couple of large boxes rested about her feet, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was a writing desk on the porch.

The night before, shortly after dinner, Laura had expressed her desire to take the job of being a nanny to little Grace, with the understanding that she’d only do so until school resumed. He’d assured her that he’d begin looking for another nanny when it got closer to time for her to leave.

Hope’s head rested on Laura’s shoulder, and the little girl grinned sweetly at him. His gaze traveled downward to his own child. Grace held Laura’s other hand tightly. The schoolteacher might be just what Grace needed in her life.

He leaped from the wagon. “Right on time, ladies.” Clint winked at Grace.

“You did say to be ready by eight, didn’t you?” Laura asked. Confusion laced her pretty features.

He picked up several of the bags. “I did. If you will get the girls in the wagon, I’ll load up these bags.” There weren’t as many as he’d expected. His wife, Martha, had always taken everything with them, even for the short trip to town. Clint pushed thoughts of Martha away and carried the bags to the wagon.

“Very well. Come along, children.” With her head held high, Laura led the girls to the wagon. She sat Hope on the seat, then bent down and picked up Grace.

Clint watched Grace touch Laura’s hair. His little girl smiled at Laura and patted her cheek, much like she did his to show her affection. Clint forced himself to look away from the sweet scene. His heart ached that Grace would never know a mother’s love. She deserved a mother, but he couldn’t see himself ever taking another wife.

Grace’s baby chatter filled the crisp morning air. He grinned as he set the bags into the already partially full wagon.

Laura answered as she set the child in the bed of the wagon. “Of course, Hope can sit with you, but you have to be a big girl and stay seated on the way home.”

Grace babbled something and nodded.

“Good girl.” She pulled Hope from the bench and set her beside Grace. Then she turned to him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I packed a few of my school books, and I also brought along my writing desk.” Her gaze moved to a wooden crate. “I plan to work on my schoolroom lessons, and there are a couple of new novels that I want to read during the break.”

“I don’t mind.” Clint hurried to grab the last two carpetbags and the box that he assumed held the books. His surprise at the weight of the crate must have shown on his face.

Laura asked, “Do you think I might have overpacked the box?”

Clint grunted as he picked up the crate. He’d exaggerated a bit with the sound but not much. “Naw, it’s not the least bit heavy.”

To his surprise, Laura laughed. It sounded warm and low, not your typical giggle. He found himself grinning at her over the box.

She looked away first. “Would you like for me to ask Mrs. Potter for a lunch box to take on the trip while you load the desk?”

Clint shook his head. “No, if all goes well we should be arriving at the ranch around noon. Mrs. Murphy will have something for us to eat.” At her doubt-filled look, he continued, “I’m sure.”

Laura nodded. “Very well. I’ll go inside and see if there is anything I’ve left behind.” The door shut softly behind her.

He turned to look at the two little girls who were peeking between the slats in the wall of the wagon. “What are you two big-eyed calves looking at?” Clint asked as he pushed the book box into the wagon bed.

Grace giggled and Hope smiled broadly.

Clint finished loading the wagon and then dug under the bench for the blanket that he kept there. He laid it behind the seat and then put both the girls on top of it. His gaze moved to the house. What was taking her so long? Clint moved the bags and the boxes of purchases he’d made while in town to form a line to block the girls in between the bags and the back of the seat.

Then, Clint untied his horse from the back of the wagon and swung into the saddle. Laura Lee had said she was capable of driving the wagon to the ranch. He leaned against the saddle horn and waited.

His gaze moved to the boardinghouse. So far, everything was going well. Laura seemed to be the perfect nanny for Grace, and he could finally get back to work with no worries about Grace’s care or his housekeeper leaving.

Chapter Four

A few hours later, Clint topped the hill that looked down on his home. For a brief moment, he stopped and enjoyed the view. The house was about a quarter mile from the river that ran across his property. The river supplied water for the fields, livestock and the family. A well had been built a few years earlier, closer to the house so that the women didn’t have to go to the river every day.

Large fruit trees stood in the orchard at the back of the house. He grinned as his gaze moved to the front yard where he’d rigged up a small swing in the oak tree for Grace.

Laura’s soft, stern voice drew his attention. “Grace, you need to sit down. We’re not quite there yet.”

With a frown, Grace did as she was told. She was two and a handful. After being cooped up in the wagon all morning, Grace was ready to get out and play. Hope lay curled in a ball beside her, sound asleep.

He led the way down the hill and home. A few minutes later, Laura pulled the wagon up in front of his ranch home. Clint had come to realize that unlike Grace, Laura wasn’t a big talker. She’d spoken softly to the girls during the trip and was very observant of her surroundings but didn’t force a conversation between them.

What did the schoolteacher think of his home? He turned to look at her. She stared at the house but didn’t say anything. Grace stood once more and began babbling with excitement.

Her gaze broke from the house. “Hold on, Grace. I know you want out of the wagon.” She looked down at Hope.

Clint tried to envision his home from her perspective. The house was built in the typical farmhouse style. Long with windows positioned to catch the most sunlight during the day. He and his hired man, Richard, had whitewashed it a few weeks ago, so it looked fresh and clean.

The vegetable garden was off to the right, the barn and chicken coop to the left. A wide front porch offered shade in the afternoons along with the tall apple tree that grew a few yards away.

He expected that most women would be gushing and telling him what a beautiful home he had, but not Mrs. Lee. She simply tended to the little girls. Clint frowned. What did it matter what she thought? Laura Lee would only be here a few weeks, and then she’d be returning to her schoolhouse and town. Clint told himself it didn’t matter, but for some odd reason, it did.

He leaped from his horse and tied it to the rail in front of the porch. Then he hurried to the wagon where he kissed the top of Grace’s head before continuing around the wagon to help Laura down. “I hope you are happy here during your stay.” Clint took her hand in his to help her down. The warmth and softness sent a spark of awareness up his arm.

Once her feet were securely on the ground, Laura gently pulled her hand from his. “I’m sure I will be.” She turned to the wagon.

Grace jabbered excitedly as she waited for him to lift her out. Her impatience pulled Clint from the wonder of Laura’s eyes and touch. He scooped his sweet daughter up and set her on the ground. She toddled toward the house, babbling happily.

Laura gently woke Hope and then helped her from the wagon. She hugged the little girl close and then sat her on the ground. A smile brightened Laura’s face as she watched the little girl waddle after her new friend.

Grace stopped and waited for Hope. She took Hope’s small hand in her own and then continued to the porch. Neither adult understood a word Grace said, but Hope nodded sleepily with a grin.

Laura turned to him. “They are so sweet together.”

Clint gathered several of the bags from the wagon and followed the girls. His mind was on the connection he’d briefly felt while holding Laura’s hand. Had she felt it, too? If she had, she hadn’t shown it. Was he making too much of it? He hadn’t felt that kind of connection since his wife. Clint swallowed hard.

He would ignore the feeling. His heart couldn’t take another breaking like the one he’d felt the day Grace’s mother had died. Clint silently vowed never to feel such pain again. Never.

* * *

Laura waited until Clint continued to the house. She released the pent-up breath in her lungs. Had he felt the electrical current between them? Or was she just being hypersensitive? So much had happened since the previous morning, Laura didn’t know what to think of this newfound feeling.

She turned at the sound of Grace’s excited squeal. “MumMum!”

A middle-aged woman with red hair and sparkling green eyes stepped through the front door. She smiled sweetly at Grace, who had grabbed her skirt and was hugging her legs. “Well, hello, wee one.” She leaned over to hug the child close.

Hope stood beside Grace looking confused. She glanced back at Laura until Grace grabbed her hand and jerked her forward.

Grace babbled up at the redheaded woman and pointed at Hope.

She nodded. “I see. We have another wee one underfoot.” A sprig of red hair mixed with gray at her temples escaped the thick braid that ran down her back. Her sharp green gaze seemed to pierce Clint Shepard.

Laura straightened her shoulders, scooped up two of her bags and walked to the porch. She sat her luggage down on the edge of the wood.

Before she could introduce herself and Hope, Clint said, “Mrs. Murphy, this is Laura Lee. She’s Grace’s new nanny.”

Clint walked back to the wagon.

Mrs. Murphy’s gaze moved over her, studying her, evaluating her. “Is the wee one yours?” She looked down at Hope, who had plopped down on the porch and was now trying to pick up a small insect.

Laura shook her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Murphy. Please feel free to call me Laura.”

“Mrs. Lee, if the wee one isn’t yours, whose is she?” Confusion pulled at the skin between Mrs. Murphy’s eyes.

Laura was very aware that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t pleased with Clint’s choice of nanny. The sharpness in her tone and the way her gaze moved over Laura as if evaluating her spoke volumes of her displeasure. What had the older woman expected?

“Mrs. Murphy, don’t you think that is a bit personal?” Clint asked, walking back to them. He carried another bag and what appeared to be a box of kitchen supplies.

She huffed. “Not if she’s going to be living here. She could have stolen the child for all I know.”

Laura felt a rush of irritation at the woman’s rude behavior. She pulled her shoulders back and held her head high. “No, I most certainly did not steal Hope. I have a letter stating she is in my care.” She picked up Hope. The little girl snuggled her face into Laura’s neck.

Clint walked around the women and continued inside. “I’ll show Mrs. Lee and Hope to their rooms.”

Laura set a wiggling Hope back down and picked up the bags she’d discarded earlier. Then she followed Mrs. Murphy and the girls inside.

Mrs. Murphy’s voice stopped him. “You’ll do no such thing.”

He turned to face her. “Mrs. Murphy, she’s staying.”

“Perhaps so, but it isn’t proper for you to be in her room.” The Irishwoman’s green eyes dared him to argue with her.

What kind of relationship did these two people have? Was Mrs. Murphy hired help? Or a part of the family? Laura watched as the two stared at each other. The muscles worked in Clint’s jaw. His eyes never left Mrs. Murphy’s as he said, “Then you show her to her room, and I’ll finish unloading the wagon.”

Mrs. Murphy nodded curtly and then turned to Laura. “If you will follow me.” She didn’t wait for Laura to agree. Her skirt swished as she walked briskly down a hall. “Your rooms are behind the kitchen. I told Clint he didn’t have to give up his room, but he insisted. It will be warm for the children come winter.”

If he’d given up his room, where was Clint staying? Not that it should matter to her, but Laura couldn’t help but wonder why he’d give up his room for the hired help.

“I don’t intend to be here that long,” Laura answered.

Mrs. Murphy stopped so fast that it took all Laura could do not to run over her. “What’s this you say?”

“Hope and I will only be here a few months, then I’ll be returning to my job in town.” Laura shifted the bags in her arms.

“Your job in town?” She crossed her arms and waited for Laura to answer.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m the schoolteacher.”

Mrs. Murphy nodded and then continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a closed door. “These are your rooms.” Ice seemed to drip from her voice. She opened the door and took a step back.

Who was the woman angry at? Her? Or Clint for hiring someone who wasn’t going to be permanent?

Laura followed Grace and Hope into the room. It was larger than she’d expected and felt warm and inviting. A large bed rested against the far wall. Other pieces of furniture filled the room. But it was obvious from the lack of lacy curtains, pretty rugs and of any type of feminine touch that this was a man’s room.

“Lunch will be in a few minutes.” Mrs. Murphy spun around and headed back down the hallway.

Grace and Hope toddled about the room. Hope seemed to take in each and every new item that Grace appeared to be showing her. Laura walked to the window and looked outside. A tall tree stood beside the window, offering shade and the potential of cool summer breezes. She turned back to the room and noticed another door to the side.

Hadn’t Mrs. Murphy said “rooms?” Laura walked across the hardwood floor and opened the door. She was pleasantly surprised to find a small dressing room with a big chair and bookshelf inside. The room also contained a child-sized bed. A chest rested at the foot of the bed, and dolls and stuffed animals sat on its top. It was obvious that this was Grace’s room.

Grace followed and babbled off something. Pretending as if she understood her, Laura answered, “I like your room, too, Grace. But I’m thinking it might be nice if Hope shared your room with you. Would that be all right with you?”

The little girl nodded and babbled away to Hope. She hurried across the room and picked up a small stuffed dog and brought it back to Hope.

Hope smiled at Grace and hugged the toy to her chest. Laura grinned. If Grace was a normal two-year-old, and Laura knew that she was, she’d be demanding her doggie back soon enough. While the girls played, Laura quickly unpacked the bags she’d brought inside. The top two drawers were empty, and her and Hope’s few belongings fit nicely.

Just as she turned to gather the girls up to go get another bag and her box of books, Mrs. Murphy arrived with both. She set the crate of books inside the door and placed Hope’s small bag on top, then turned without speaking and left. That book box was heavy, but evidently Mrs. Murphy was stronger than she’d first appeared.

As a schoolteacher, Laura occasionally dealt with unhappy parents and decided to treat Mrs. Murphy as one. The older woman made it more than obvious that she wasn’t happy with Clint’s choice in nannies. But what choice had he had? It wasn’t like there were a slew of unmarried women about who needed a job out in the middle of nowhere. Laura put away the remaining few belongings she’d purchased earlier for Hope.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up Hope and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Let’s go have lunch, ladies.”

Grace chattered as they walked back to the front of the house. Laura wished she could understand the little girl, but since she couldn’t she simply smiled and nodded a lot. Hope giggled down at Grace.

The smell of frying ham greeted her as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. Mrs. Murphy stood at the stove, turning the meat over with a long fork. She frowned as Laura and the girls entered the room.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Laura asked as she sat Hope down on one of the chairs that surrounded an oblong table.

Her Irish accent filled the kitchen with authority. “No, my job is to cook. Yours is to take care of Grace.”

Laura nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mind helping out.”

Mrs. Murphy turned from the stove. She shook the fork at her. “If you want to help, keep the children out of my kitchen until you are called.”

So that was how it was going to be. Laura tilted her head to the side and studied the older woman. Why was she so unhappy? Had she hoped Clint couldn’t find a nanny? If so, why not? Or, was she simply worried Laura would become even more important to Clint and Grace and she wouldn’t be needed? Or, as she’d thought earlier, was she angry that Clint had hired a temporary nanny and not a full-time one?

Mrs. Murphy dropped her eyes and returned to the sizzling ham.

“Come along, girls.” If Mrs. Murphy didn’t want her in the kitchen, Laura vowed not to return until asked. As stubborn as the woman seemed, Laura had a feeling that would be the last time she saw the interior of the kitchen for the remainder of her stay.

Grace and Hope each took one of her hands and they left the warmth of the room. Laura hated that she wouldn’t be allowed to cook or help out while she was here. It shouldn’t matter to her. Her job was to care for Grace. But it did matter. For some reason, it mattered a lot.

Chapter Five

Clint sighed and ran his hand through his hair. After finishing his evening chores, he found Mrs. Murphy waiting on the porch for him. She sat in one of the two rockers. He greeted her kindly. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy.” He was bone-tired, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed.

He’d stayed close to the house all day and tried to make the arrival of another woman easy on Mrs. Murphy. It didn’t make sense that she was upset with the arrangement. She was the one who had insisted on him getting a nanny for Grace. But it was obvious that the Irishwoman wasn’t happy.

“You have got to talk to that woman.”

Clint blew air out of his lungs before asking, “About?”

“Leaving in the morning and getting another job.”

Was the woman insane? They needed Laura, and from what he’d witnessed throughout the day, Grace liked her. “Look, Mrs. Murphy. I’m not firing Mrs. Lee. You said you didn’t want to take care of Grace, so I went to town and got a nanny. Now you are upset that I did as you asked. What is it that has you all riled up?”

Mrs. Murphy rocked the rocking chair even harder. “She brought another child in the house. I told you I didn’t want children underfoot. I’m too old for such shenanigans.”

“You aren’t that old and they won’t be underfoot. Mrs. Lee will be taking care of them.” His frustration and tiredness was making him sound crankier than an old bull.

“She wanted to help in the kitchen at lunch, and you heard her after supper. She offered to clean off the table.” Mrs. Murphy continued sewing on either an item of clothing or a quilt.

Clint wasn’t sure which and he really didn’t care. He grumbled, “I don’t see the problem. Most women would be happy to have added help.”

Her head came up so quickly, Clint feared she’d snap her neck. “I don’t want help. I’m quite capable of running the household and cooking meals.”

Clint pushed away from the porch post he’d been leaning on. “I’ll talk to her and make sure she knows that you don’t want or need her help. But I am not firing her. Grace likes Mrs. Lee. That’s reason enough to keep her on.”

Mrs. Murphy huffed. “I imagine it don’t hurt that she’s a pretty little thing, either.”

He stopped at the door. “Mrs. Lee’s looks have nothing to do with her taking care of Grace.” Clint yawned and opened the door. He heard Mrs. Murphy muttering behind him but chose to ignore her.

Making his way across the room, Clint tried to figure out what the real reason was that Mrs. Murphy didn’t like Laura. It couldn’t be that she’d brought Hope. As far as he could tell, the schoolteacher only wanted to help. She’d taken care of both the little girls’ plates during supper and offered to help Mrs. Murphy with the cleanup. It looked to him as though the two women should be getting along swimmingly.

He entered his room and pulled his boots off. It was times like these that he missed his wife and ma. Before his ma’s death, the two women had gotten along like sisters. He’d guess that Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Lee were about the same ages as his ma and wife. So why couldn’t they get along as well?

Clint pulled on a fresh pair of socks and then walked the short distance to his old bedroom. Proper or not, he intended to say good-night to Grace. Just as he got to the door, it opened and Laura stepped out, holding Grace on her hip.

“Papa!” Grace held her arms out to him. His normally cheerful child had tearstains on her cheeks.

He took her in his arms and looked to Laura over the little girl’s head. Clint stroked Grace’s tiny back. “What’s wrong, Gracie?”

Laura answered, “She is missing you. Is this the first time she’s slept without you in the room next to her?”

Clint nodded. He pulled Grace back and looked into her sad eyes. “Gracie, did you think I wouldn’t come say good-night?”

The little girl nodded, and fresh tears began silently flowing down her face once more. Grace tucked a tiny index finger between her lips and sucked on it, a sure sign she was distressed.

“Baby, I will always say good-night when I’m home.” He cuddled his daughter against his chest. What was he going to do? It wasn’t proper for him to enter Laura’s room, but to put Grace back to bed, he’d need to do just that.

As if sensing his dilemma, Laura spoke. “Mr. Shepard, if I might make a suggestion.” Laura laid a soft hand against his forearm.

He nodded, noticing for the first time that Laura’s hair hung about her shoulders in what looked like a soft cloud. Her pretty eyes studied his face for several moments, and then she continued.

“Perhaps I should sleep in your room tonight and you return to your old room. That way you will be close to Grace. Hope and I will sleep in your new room tonight, and tomorrow we can make the switch. Since I’m not staying long, it’s only fair to the child that we not disrupt her routine any more than necessary.”

Clint frowned. If he understood correctly, she wanted him to take his room back, and she and Hope would take the guest room down the hall. The way she’d said it sounded confusing, but he thought he understood. “I don’t know.”

Laura’s sweet soft laughter filled him. “Well, I do. I’ll get Hope, and then you can show us our new quarters.” She turned and left him standing in the hallway, hugging Grace and feeling perplexed. What was it with bossy women? Between Laura Lee and Mrs. Murphy, he had lost all control over his household.

* * *

The next morning, Clint felt like a million dollars as he walked down the hall toward breakfast. For the first time in several days he’d slept well. The sun hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Grace slept soundly in her little bed. Life was good.

Laura had been right the night before when she’d told him both he and Grace would sleep better with him in his room. He’d shown her to the spare bedroom where she carried an already sleeping Hope and placed her on the bed. She’d assured him she’d sleep fine with the child, but his plans today were to make the child a bed of her own. It wouldn’t take much, just a little wood and some nails, and he’d have a bed like Grace’s ready before nightfall.

He entered the kitchen. The smell of bacon, eggs and fresh coffee filled the warm space. “Good morning, Mrs. Murphy.”

She nodded in his direction. “Hope you slept well last night.”

“I did.” Clint contemplated telling her that he and Laura had exchanged bedrooms the night before, but then felt it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with her. It might seem cowardly to some, but he’d let Laura handle any questions the older woman might have.

“Well, I still think it was a bad idea to sleep away from our Grace. She probably didn’t sleep nearly as soundly as you did.”

He chuckled. “The child probably slept better than you think.” Clint should correct her, but dab nab it, this was his home, and he didn’t have to answer to his housekeeper.

A moment of remorse hit him like an old mule’s kick. Mrs. Murphy wasn’t just a housekeeper. During the last two years, she’d stuck with him, kept him and Grace fed and cleaned. First, she’d taken care of his late wife and then them. She deserved to know what had happened the night before. “You can rest your mind regarding the child. Mrs. Lee and I exchanged rooms last night. Grace wasn’t taking to my not being there.”

A grin formed on the older woman’s face. “Good. That woman might have some sense after all.”

“Well, that wasn’t the nicest thing to say about Mrs. Lee. She’s very intelligent, kind and thoughtful.” He picked up his favorite cup and filled it with coffee.

She turned back to the stove and pulled out fresh biscuits. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair to the schoolteacher. I’ll do better.”

“MumMum!”

How long had Laura been standing in the doorway with Grace and Hope? Had she heard his defense of her? Or Mrs. Murphy’s declaration to treat her differently?

Nothing on her face gave away her thoughts or feelings. Laura asked, “Is breakfast served in here or the main room?”

Mrs. Murphy hugged Grace against her leg. “Breakfast is always in here.”

Laura’s eyes widened. Was she surprised that the other woman could speak in a nice, calm voice? Or that breakfast was always in the kitchen?

Clint shook his head and walked to the table. He placed his cup on the wood and knelt beside the table for his morning hug from his Gracie. It might look strange to Laura Lee, but he didn’t care.

Grace saw him and quickly released Mrs. Murphy. Her little chubby legs carried her to Clint. He grabbed her close and hugged. This was his favorite time of the morning.

Hope watched.

Clint extended an arm out to the little girl. Like Grace, her real mother was gone. Did the little girl understand? Or was she too young to realize that she’d been given away like a freshly made cake?

The little girl toddled over to him. She fell into his embrace and giggled along with Grace.

His gaze met Laura’s. Her eyes seemed softer, as if cushioned with unshed tears. Were her thoughts on the fact that Hope’s mother and father were missing?

From the looks of things, Hope needed a father figure, and Laura needed a friend. The silly thought came to him that he’d be here for both of them for as long as they needed him.

Clint gently released the girls and stood. The two girls looked up at him. He placed each of them on to a chair at the kitchen table, very aware that the two women watched his every move. He took a sip of coffee, and the bitterness coated his tongue. What had he gotten himself into, with four ladies in his house and not one man to help him muddle through the awkward times?

* * *

A couple of days later, Laura stood back and watched the girls splash water at each other. They both had smelled like hot little puppies when she’d decided they needed a good scrubbing. She glanced up to see Mrs. Murphy standing in the kitchen doorway.

Dread filled her. The other woman hadn’t been mean, but she’d definitely been rude on more than one occasion. Laura put a smile on her face and said, “I hope you don’t mind. The girls needed a good bath.”

Mrs. Murphy returned her smile. “As long as you clean up after them, I’m fine with them taking a bath. My husband used to say, ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’” She chuckled. “I think the dear soul really believed that one was in the Bible.”

Laura couldn’t help but grin at the familiar saying. “I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy in here.”

The other woman waved her hand. “There isn’t any rush.” She came farther into the kitchen. “I just came in to stir the beans and ham hock.” She laid a worn Bible on the kitchen table.

It was good to see that the Irishwoman read from the book. Laura Lee held her own Bible study every morning before the children awoke. She didn’t believe she would survive a day without reading the Word first thing.

The little girls played happily in the water. Their big eyes and smiles filled their tiny faces. This was the first time Clint had been gone from the house all day. Laura had worried Grace would fret, but the little girl hadn’t.

The fragrance of ham filled the kitchen. Laura thought about mentioning that she could make a mean pan of cornbread to go with the beans and ham hock, but changed her mind. It had been a long time since she’d cooked, and over the last few days she’d learned that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t the sort who would let another woman work in her kitchen.

Mrs. Murphy replaced the lid on the bean pot, sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched the girls. “Which do you think I should make? Biscuits or corn bread?” She didn’t take her eyes off the children.

Was she trying to make up for her shortness of the last few days? Laura tilted her head to the side. “Whichever is easier for you.”

The older woman laughed. “That’s a very good answer, but which one do you have—” she tried to imitate a cowboy tone “—a hankerin’ for?”

Laura laughed. The Irishwoman joined in, and the children splashed and giggled all the harder.

When everyone had settled down, Laura answered, “That was the funniest imitation I have ever heard. I think corn bread would be a good choice, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. Corn bread was what I was thinking, too.”

“Good. I...” Laura stopped. She’d almost offered to help again, but decided against it. Mrs. Murphy seemed to be in a pleasant mood, and there was no reason to spoil it.

She helped Grace from the tub of lukewarm water. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s get you dressed.”

Grace giggled and kicked her feet as Laura wrapped a clean towel around her. Mrs. Murphy scooped Hope from the bathwater and proceeded to towel her dry, as well.

“You really don’t have to do that, Mrs. Murphy. I don’t want the girls to be a bother to you, at all.”

She towel-dried Hope’s curly hair. “It’s no bother. And please, call me Camelia.”

Laura sat back on her heels. “So now you want to help with the girls?”

Camelia sat back also. Her gaze met Laura’s, and honesty shone through her words. “I’m sorry. I haven’t behaved in a very Christian manner since you’ve been here. I’m new to this Christian life and don’t always act correctly. I love Gracie, but I just don’t have the patience I used to with children. Or adults, for that matter, but I’m trying to do better.” Her gaze moved to the Bible on the table.

Laura continued drying Grace’s little arms. “I know what you mean. I’m not always good with adults, either. I love children, but oftentimes their parents set my teeth on edge.” The two women shared knowing grins. Then Laura pressed on. “Maybe we can work together and learn from each other.”

Laura held her breath while she pulled Grace’s little dress over her head. What would Camelia think of her suggestion? Laura wanted to befriend the woman. Honestly, she’d never had a woman friend that she could talk and work with. Most women didn’t have time for a widow or friendship. Would Camelia?

Chapter Six

Clint’s back ached, his hips hurt and his legs felt full of lead. He’d started the day checking on his herd of cows and the two bulls in the west pasture. Then in the afternoon, he’d plowed the east field and ended the work day with feeding the cows and calves again and checking on the ones that would have calves soon.

His thoughts had been preoccupied during the day with Laura and Grace. What were they doing? The schoolteacher had brought lots of books, and even though Grace was only two, Laura had started showing her the books and asking her questions such as “What color is this?” And pointing to pictures of fruit trees and asking questions like, “How many apples are in the tree?” And other stuff like that. Mrs. Murphy had criticized Laura’s attempts at educating the little girls. Personally, he’d found it interesting.

Clint hated that the two women didn’t seem to get along. He’d tried to soften the verbal blows that Mrs. Murphy had rained upon Laura. He felt the tension in the air and wondered if the little girls could feel it, too. Laura had said she didn’t mind Mrs. Murphy’s rude behavior, but he could tell it was wearing on her.

He both dreaded and looked forward to going to the house. A hot meal and soft bed were welcomed, but what would the atmosphere with the ladies in the house be like? He’d gone from having two females in the house to having four, not an easy transition. Clint knew he’d have to have another talk with his housekeeper and he dreaded it.

Richard met him outside the barn. “I’ll take your horse, Clint.”

“Thanks.” He swung from the saddle with a groan. His gaze moved to the front of the house. “How have things been here today?”

“Pretty quiet. The ladies have been inside most of the day. Mrs. Murphy threw bathwater out the back door earlier.”

“Bathwater?” A grin split his face.

Richard nodded. “Yep.”

Just as he’d thought, Laura Lee was a woman who believed in cleanliness. Thank the Lord! He had noticed that Grace had begun to smell a little ripe but hadn’t wanted to be the one to give her a bath. He didn’t know how the little girl could manage it, but every time he’d given her a good scrubbing, he’d come out of the ordeal almost as wet as she did.

With a lighter step, he turned toward the house. “Thanks, Richard. I’ll see that you get a piece of Mrs. Murphy’s dessert tonight.”

“Don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I’ll take it. Thanks, boss.” Richard whistled as he disappeared into the barn.

Clint was happy Grace had received her bath but wasn’t sure it was time for him to start whistling just yet. He’d skipped lunch, and his belly gave a growl of displeasure at the missed meal. Thankfully, Mrs. Murphy hadn’t stopped cooking good meals, but after their meeting tonight, she might. He couldn’t let her continue to treat Laura badly. The young woman had done nothing to warrant the older woman’s mean spiritedness.

Laura’s soft laughter drifted through the open window as he approached the house. The little girls squealed their pleasure and then he heard the Irishwoman. Was she telling them a story?

Clint opened the door and entered the house.

Mrs. Murphy chased the little girls about the sitting room, saying in her thick Irish accent, “I’m gonna get you!”

Hope’s little legs toddled, and a big grin filled her face. Grace squealed and ran for her father’s legs. His daughter grabbed him and turned to Mrs. Murphy with a squeal. Hope grabbed the other leg and plopped down on his boot.

The Irishwoman stopped and looked at him, confused. She then turned to Laura. “Goodness, we’ve let the time escape us. Come help me get supper on the table, Laura. Clint, you take care of these squealing children.” With her head held high, Mrs. Murphy hurried from the room.

Since when had Mrs. Murphy started asking for Laura’s help? His gaze moved to the schoolteacher. She shrugged her shoulders at him and followed his housekeeper to the kitchen.

Grace babbled against his leg. He scooped her up and gave her a quick squeeze. In a very low voice he confided in her, “Well, seems a lot has changed since I left this morning.”

The child took his face in her little hands and babbled seriously.

Clint couldn’t help but laugh. “Child, I’m looking forward to the day when I can understand you.”

His gaze moved to the silent Hope. She stood rested against his jean-clad leg, watching them with big eyes. Where was her pa, and why had he and Hope’s ma left her on Laura’s porch?

Grace pushed against his shoulder, a clear indication that she wanted to be released. He lowered her to the ground and gently picked up Hope. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

Her finger went straight into her mouth. Hope’s eyes widened, but she didn’t push away.

He gave her a squeeze much like the one he’d shared with Grace. Hope grinned around her finger and then laid her head on his shoulder.

Clint lost his heart. Now what was he going to do?

Laura stuck her head around the door to the kitchen and called, “Supper’s ready. Send the girls in here and go wash up.” Her head disappeared around the corner.

Hope raised her head and pushed away from him much like Grace had done moments earlier. He sat her down beside Grace, who had been leaning against his leg.

With his heart in his throat, Clint watched as Grace took Hope’s hand in hers and walked toward the kitchen. Just as she got to the door, Grace turned, looked to him and babbled something before going into the kitchen where the other ladies waited.

Once more he felt the pressure of living with four females. They had begun to boss him around and steal his heart. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. If Hope could get into his heart so quickly, Clint knew he needed to stay away from Laura. He’d vowed not to fall in love again after his wife’s death. That was one promise Clint intended to keep. No matter how pretty the nanny looked tonight.

* * *

They’d been on the ranch now for a week and still no news about Hope’s family from the sheriff. Laura couldn’t get the image of Clint cuddling Hope close to his shoulder out of her mind. He’d looked genuinely happy to be holding the little girl, and Hope’s expression had been one of pure bliss. They seemed to just go together. She’d been trying to push the image out of her mind for days.

Even now, Laura tried to think of something else. But when she did that, her mind would turn to Hope’s future. What was going to become of the little girl?

Where were Hope’s parents? How could they stand to be away from her for so long? She was a sweet child. Thanks to Grace and her chattiness, Hope now whispered what Laura knew were the beginnings of words.

It was time for Laura to take a trip into town and see if he’d learned anything. She dreaded the thought that Hope’s parents could be there, waiting for her to return the child.

“You seem deep in thought.”

Laura looked up at Clint. She’d not heard him come up onto the porch. “I was thinking about Hope and the sheriff.”

He sat down on the step and leaned his back against the railing. “I’ve been thinking about them, too.”

She looked down at the bowl of potatoes she’d been peeling before her mind had wandered. “You have?”

Clint took his hat off and rested it over his bent knee. He nodded. “Seems to me, you should have heard something from the sheriff.”

A slight breeze lifted the hair from his brow. Laura looked away once more. She stared out at the three horses that had been put in the corral closest to the barn. “I think so, too.”

He cleared his throat, then said, “If the sheriff doesn’t come out soon, would you like to take a trip into town?” He played with the brim of his hat.

“Honestly, I’d rather hide out here, but I suppose I’ll need to go talk to him sooner or later.” She peeled the potato in her hand and sighed. “I never knew I was such a coward, but where that little girl is concerned, I am.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Laura tried to smile at him but failed miserably. She swallowed before answering. “I’m afraid that he’ll tell me her ma and pa have been looking for her, and I’ll lose her. If only we could stay out here forever and I’d never have to give her up.”

“I wish that were possible, too, but the sheriff knows you are out here.” He shook his head. “By now, the whole town knows you are out here.”

“True.” She dropped the last peeled potato into her bowl and stood. “So, I’ll face the inevitable.” Laura realized he must have had a reason for coming to the house midafternoon. “Did you want to talk to me?”

Clint grinned up at her. He stood also. “I am headed out to the west pasture and thought maybe the girls would like to take a swim in the stream while I check on the fence line.”

His grin and the sparkle in his eyes set her heart to doing flip-flops. What was it about this man? Her breath quickened, and she nodded. Thanks to an overly hot spring this year, the water should be perfect for the girls to splash about in. “I’ll need to get them up from their afternoon nap. Can you give us a few minutes?”

At his nod, she turned to enter the house.

“Laura?”

She turned back to look at him. “Yes?”

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand. Not all women like roaming around a ranch.” A frown replaced the smile. Was he thinking of Grace’s mother?

She smiled to ease his concern. “Good thing I’m not one of those women.”

He tipped his hat at her. “Then I’ll go ask Richard to help me hitch up the wagon.”

“Why in the world would you hitch up the wagon for a trip across the pasture?”

Clint tilted his head to the side. “I just thought...”

The frown was back. “I know you did. But honestly, if you don’t mind holding Grace in front of you, I’d rather ride out on one of the mares.” Laura smiled sweetly. “I’ve missed riding.”

He laughed. Not a soft gentlemanly laugh but a flat-out laugh. It warmed her toes to hear the sound, and lightning bugs started fluttering in the pit of her belly. “Then I’ll go saddle the lady a horse.” Clint started whistling as he left the porch.

Chapter Seven

Clint gasped at the sight of Laura Lee in a pair of his old trousers as she marched toward him holding each of the girls’ hands. She wore a pair of girly boots and the big, floppy sombrero-type hat that Mrs. Murphy wore while gardening. The pants were sagging about her waist and looked as if they would fall to the ground at any moment.

When she came within talking distance, Laura announced, as she looked down at the girls, “If we are going to make a habit of this, I’ll need to make Grace and Hope a pair of pants, too. I hope you don’t mind, but Mrs. Murphy said that you never wear these anymore and that I could borrow them. I know they are too big, but it will be much easier to ride on the horse and I’ll be able to play with the girls in the water without fear of my skirts weighing me down when they get wet.”

Her words came out faster than he’d ever heard her speak. Even Grace looked up at her with wide, amazed eyes. Laura’s cheeks were pink when she finally raised her gaze to look at him. Was she embarrassed to be wearing men’s pants? Or did she think he’d be angry at her for doing so? His wife, Martha, would have fainted if anyone had even suggested she wear pants.

He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Clint walked about her and clicked his tongue. “Seems to me, while you’re making the girls pants, you might oughta take those up a mite, too. They are falling right off of you.”

Laura released Hope’s little hand. “There’s no chance of that happening.” She held up the end of her shirt just enough for him to see the dark brown drapery cord that held the pants up around her waist. Laura’s smile and her look of triumph caused the breath to quicken in his throat. She really was quite a woman.

Hope toddled over to him and clutched his leg. He bent down and asked, “Want to ride with me? Or—?” Clint was at a loss for words. He’d never heard what Laura called herself to the little girl. His gaze searched hers.

“Laura,” she answered softly.

His gaze returned to the little girls. “Or Laura?”

The softest of whispers answered, “Ewwww.”

He swung Hope up into the air and was rewarded with a sweet giggle. Clint looked to Laura and Grace. “You don’t mind riding with Laura, do you, Gracie?”

The little girl tugged Laura’s hand and tried to walk toward the mare Clint had saddled for her earlier. Her little voice chattered as she tugged.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled.

“Hold up, Grace. I need to get our bag from the porch.”

Grace dropped Laura’s hand and started walking to the porch. While they retrieved the bag, Clint put Hope on his shoulders.

Laura returned with the bag and Grace. She tied the bag to her saddle horn and then swung into the saddle as if it were an everyday occurrence. Her lips twitched as she looked down at him and said, “Would you mind handing Grace up to me?”

Clint balanced Hope on his shoulders and scooped Grace up. He handed the child to Laura and grinned. “Why, Mrs. Lee, I believe you have some explaining to do. I’ve never met a prim and proper schoolteacher who can swing into a saddle like you just did.”

Laura adjusted Grace in front of her. “It’s been a while, but I’ll be honest. It felt good.”

Once Hope was off his shoulders and sitting in front of him, Clint urged his horse toward the west pasture. “Do you mind if I ask where you learned to mount a horse like that?”

She guided the little mare he’d chosen for her up beside him. “Not at all. I grew up on a small farm. Daddy only had me and my younger sister to help out. We learned to ride at a young age.” Her blue eyes met his. “If you need help with the fence line, I can do that, too.” She raised her head high. “I’m not ashamed that I can ride and work a farm, Mr. Shepard.”

“You shouldn’t be, Mrs. Lee.” He pressed Hope’s back closer to his stomach as the little girl seemed to want to slide to the left. “I’m hoping Gracie will want to ride and fix fences someday, too.”

“I never said I wanted to fix fences.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

He laughed. “I’m not sure anyone wants to fix fences. I know that I usually take on that job. My men would rather be herding cattle or feeding. Can’t blame them for that. It’s a hot job.”

The little girls babbled to each other as they rode along. Laura nodded her head. Her floppy hat had fallen to her back, held by the string that she’d tied under her chin. The sun caught the reddish highlights in her hair.

“It gets pretty cold during the winter, too. I remember one year the snow was up to our horses’ bellies. We had an old bull that had kicked through the fence and headed to the barn. Pa and I spent half a day just fixing it enough to keep the other cows in, but come spring we had to fix it proper.” She shuddered. “I don’t believe I had ever been that cold before.”

“You grew up here in Texas?” Clint heard the sound of running water ahead.

The horses heard it, too, and picked up the pace.

“No, I grew up in Kansas.” Laura gave her horse its head, and it galloped across the pasture where the stream, grass and trees awaited.

Clint followed at a slower pace. The sound of Grace’s squeals of happiness touched a part of his heart that had lain dormant for the past couple of years. Grace was his pride and joy, but very seldom had he heard the child laugh with such abandon.

It seemed Laura brought out the joy in the little girl. She’d had that effect on him earlier, too. Was it because she was a woman? Or was it because she belonged on the Shepard Ranch? The unbidden question entered his mind. Was it possible she belonged with them?

He squished the thought of her belonging on the ranch and with them. Clint mentally reminded himself that Laura was only going to be with them a few months and that he had no business thinking of her staying any longer.

* * *

Laura tucked the children into their beds. It had been a fun afternoon with the girls. They’d giggled and splashed in the water while Clint worked on the fence. She’d watched him and wondered why he’d suddenly gone from chatty to quiet. It didn’t matter. For a few moments she’d allowed herself to become too friendly with her boss. Thanks to his response to her being from Kansas—at least that’s what she figured had turned him into a quiet cattleman—she’d come to her senses and become the nanny she was supposed to be and focused on the girls.

Still, she couldn’t help but think of Clint’s change in behavior. He’d gone from teasing and laughing to quiet, almost somber. Laura shook her head. If she went to bed thinking like this she’d never get any sleep. She walked to the kitchen to make a warm glass of milk. Warm milk always helped her to sleep better.

Clint was still out in the barn. He hadn’t come in for dinner. Mrs. Murphy had sent plates out to the barn for him and Richard. They had a cow out there that seemed to be having difficulty birthing her calf. Laura made a mental note to check on Grace again before heading to bed.

Camelia sat at the kitchen table sorting brown beans. She looked up when Laura entered. “Can’t sleep?”

Laura smiled. “I haven’t tried, yet. Thought I’d have a little warm milk before bed.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t mind having a mug of warm milk, too. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Laura pulled out a pot to heat the milk.

“Any word on how Bessy is doing?”

“Bessy?” Camelia frowned.

“The cow.” Laura poured the milk into the pan and looked over her shoulder at the older woman with a grin.

“You named the cow?”

Laura shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

The other woman chuckled. “Bessy—” she paused in her bean sorting “—is still laboring away.”

Stirring the milk with a wooden spoon, Laura sympathized with the cow. “Poor thing.”

“Having three children myself, I feel her pain.” Camelia slid the remaining beans into her pot and stood.

“You have three children?”

Camelia laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. I had a life before we moved here, ya know.”

“I suppose you did.” Laura didn’t want the milk to stick and so continued to stir.

“We both did.” She washed the beans. “I know we didn’t get off to a good start. How about we share how we both ended up here?” Her hand sloshed the beans and water about.

Laura poured the warm milk into two mugs. “My story is rather boring.” Did she want to tell the Irishwoman of her past? Would the older woman think less of her?

“Mayhaps, but from where I come from, storytelling, whether good or bad, is always interesting. Of course, if it is painful or you wish to keep your privacy, that is all right, too.”

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