Winning Over the Rancher. Mary Brady

      

      “And you find yourself helplessly attracted to me?”

      Baylor took another step toward her.

      “If you come any closer, I might have to defend all of us from me. I might seem a helpless, pregnant thing, but I have to tell you, I’m not.” KayLee drew herself up tall and put fists to her hips to take up as much space as possible.

      “Never entered my mind that you were.” He stopped and leaned against a convenient pine tree, letting her put some distance between them. “Helpless in any way.”

      “Oh, I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I am so much less censored these days, but I thought if I got it out in the open I could enlist your help in keeping me from doing something we’d regret.”

      He moved again, stalking unhurriedly toward her like a big cat after prey.

      “Darlin’,” Baylor said with an exaggerated drawl, “speak for yourself.”

      Dear Reader,

      I hope you like reading about the people of St. Adelbert as much as I love writing about them. Thanks to each of you who reads this book. KayLee Morgan has eight weeks to rebuild her life from the rubble of her past before her child is born. In that short time, she needs to find a place to live and a way to support the two of them. A design project on a ranch outside a small town in Montana offers hope, but winning over Baylor Doyle, the reluctant rancher in charge, is the only way for her to get the job. KayLee soon realizes if she stays close enough to snag the project, she may loose her heart in the process to a man who will be gone before her child is born. It can’t be helped. KayLee will risk anything, even her heart, for a chance at a secure future for her child.

      I hope you enjoy KayLee and Baylor’s story as they each face their own shortcomings and search for a way to say the impossible yes to love everlasting. Bonus: See how the other people of St. Adelbert are faring, growing, loving, propagating, etc. I’d love to hear from you. Visit my website at www.marybrady.net or write to me [email protected]. Go have a romp with the Harlequin Superromance authors at www.superauthors.com. Enjoy their blog. Comment and you could win great prizes.

      Regards,

      Mary Brady

      Winning Over the Rancher

      Mary Brady

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Mary Brady lives in the Midwest and considers road trips into the rest continent to be a necessary part of life. When she’s not out exploring, she helps run a manufacturing company and has a great time living with her handsome husband, her super son and one cheeky little bird.

      Dedicated to

       the intrepid spirit who was Cindy Soerens.

      Acknowledgments

      To the people of Montana who once again proved

       to me they keep in touch with the earth and

       appreciate how good life can be.

      CONTENTS

      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 ONE

      THIS WAS EITHER the most brilliant move KayLee Morgan had ever made in her life or it was the biggest blunder. One thing was absolutely certain, they weren’t in Southern California anymore. No, two things were certain. She didn’t have a warm enough coat for April in Montana. And, for crying out loud, she shouldn’t have worn her favorite blue wrap dress in this wind, either.

      The early afternoon sun shone brightly, but a chill swept across the expansive porch of the rambling house at the Shadow Range Ranch and had her holding the folds of her coat tightly together for protection. To get herself pumped, she rose up onto her toes and lowered and did it again. Time to be brave.

      Do-or-die time.

      Do something. Don’t just stand there time.

      Securing the strap of her shoulder bag in place with one hand, she put her other palm on her belly. “Here we go, kiddo.”

      “Talkin’ to yourself?”

      KayLee spun to see a man standing several feet away from the base of the steps—not just a man, a rancher, a real live Montana rancher. He had his cowboy hat pushed back on his forehead and gloriously blond curls spilled from under the brim. His well-worn leather jacket gaped open—didn’t he know it was cold in Montana?—and showed off a cream-colored shirt, open at the neck. His jeans clung to his muscular thighs, cowboy boots gave him an inch he didn’t need and on his face he wore an expression that could only be described as neutral, though he was only a millimeter away from a frown.

      But man, he was—well, by the standards she had left two days ago—beautiful.

      “I guess I was talkin’ to myself.” She used his own vernacular and then spread a quick so-pleased-to-meet-you smile across her face. She knew how to look confident. She had, after all, recently come from the land of people versed in becoming the part, any part. “Would you be one of the Doyle family?”

      “Baylor Doyle, ma’am.” He doffed his hat and the curls jumped loose. And then, oh, my God, he actually ran his hand through his hair.

      A new kind of shiver passed through her. Yeah, yeah, she said to her pregnancy-crazy libido. All she wanted from this guy was for his family to hire her for the job. She did not need another pretty face in her life, but she’d deal.

      She started to descend the steps with her hand outstretched. “KayLee Morgan of K. L. Morgan and Associates.”

      Diamond-blue eyes narrowed a bit and a frown came on full bore. Baylor Doyle met her halfway up, engulfed her hand with his big rough one and squeezed with a polite amount of firmness. He studied her without blinking.

      “You’re K. L. Morgan.”

      It wasn’t a question. It was a disappointment. K.L. was supposed to be some fortyish man with a touch of confidence-building gray at the temples. Most of the people she’d met during this desperate work search kept expecting her to tell them she’d go get the boss and to throw off a curtsy or something. Not her fault she looked a lot younger than twenty-eight or that her “nads” were ovaries.

      Oh, shoot. She had forgotten to wear her glasses. She didn’t really need them, but they helped her look her age.

      “I am K.L.” She pulled her spine straighter. She absolutely could not afford to blink even once, as she was positive ranchers were no-nonsense people—and she was working for two, or she would be when somebody gave her a job. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me in person, I’m excited to show you and your family my ideas for the Shadow Range Eco Ranch project. I think you will all be very pleased.”

      “I expect everyone else is already in the