Her Texas Cowboy. Jill Lynn

her about local news, Rachel often tuned out.

      “Rach, I didn’t realize you were home.” Surprise laced his voice, joining the quirk of his eyebrows. The fact that he’d used her nickname seemed lost on him. “Sorry about that. Kinsley’s a bit of an escape artist.”

      “It’s okay. I completely understand.” But, then again, he should know that. Hadn’t he been upset with her for making a break for it six years ago?

      Time had barely aged him. Hunter had never lacked in the spine-tingling looks department, yet he managed to pull it off without any effort. Of course he’d wear a casual, short-sleeved plaid shirt and jeans to church along with cowboy boots. His cropped, dark blond hair looked as though he’d shoved a hand through it, glanced in the mirror and shrugged. He somehow managed to look laid-back and dangerous all at the same time. Two good words to describe the man who’d trampled all over her heart before she’d left for college. Though he would probably claim she’d been the wrecking ball.

      “You home to see your family?”

      “I just finished grad school and now I’m staying here while waiting to hear about a high school guidance counselor position I’m hoping—” planning “—to get in Houston.” Rachel had already filled out tons of paperwork and done one interview over Skype.

      His jaw hardened, brow pinched. “Sounds like you plan to escape as fast as you can.”

      She strived for polite, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes at the jab. She’d matured over the years, hadn’t she? She could handle an adult conversation with Hunter. “Is this your daughter?”

      “Kinsley?” Hunter lifted the girl higher, grinning at her. The softening of his face caused a tightening in her chest. Once upon a time she’d craved that smile of his as much as oxygen. “No. She’s my niece. Autumn’s oldest. She’s pregnant with their second. I’m not married.”

      The words dug like a knife and twisted. He could have added because of you to the end, just to make the torture more complete. It was true he’d asked her to marry him once. But they’d been young—way too young. And she’d wanted out. A chance to start over where she hadn’t been an immature teenager. Time to pursue her dreams. Was that so wrong?

      Rachel still had hopes and aspirations that didn’t involve this town. After high school, she’d gone to Colorado for college and concentrated on her studies. Now she planned to focus on her career.

      Houston was four hours away. Close enough that she could see her nephews whenever she made the drive and yet far enough that she could start fresh. Rachel wanted to be in Texas and somewhat close to her brother, his wife and their kids—they were her only immediate family, since their parents had passed away when she’d been thirteen. But she didn’t want to live in Fredericksburg. She enjoyed bigger cities. Liked everyone not knowing what she was up to and then gossiping about it.

      For instance, just the fact that she was conversing with Hunter would cause a ripple that would echo across the smooth surface of this town.

      “Hunter. Rachel.”

      Their heads both snapped in the direction of the voice. The associate pastor, Greg Tendra, approached, sporting a grin that wasn’t mirrored on Hunter’s face or hers. He wore a green dress shirt tucked into black pants and no tie. The man was an inch or two shorter than Rachel, with raven curly hair, and the smell of spicy aftershave wafted with him.

      “I’m glad to see you two have met.”

      A laugh almost escaped from her throat, but she managed to stem it before it burst out. Being new to town, Greg obviously didn’t know any of the history between Hunter and Rachel. Fine by her. What had happened between them would stay in the past, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t need to confess to the pastor that they’d once had a vibrant relationship that had turned toxic. That when she did come home, she and Hunter couldn’t manage more than a few minutes—seconds, really—of stifled surface-level conversation.

      But why would Greg care if she and Hunter had met? Unless...

      Her stomach plummeted to her cherry-red-painted toenails. No. It couldn’t be. Dread crawled across her skin even as she tried to talk herself out of the idea.

      “You’re my leaders for building the float with the youth group this summer. The brawn and the brains.” Greg’s face wreathed in a teasing smile as he glanced from Hunter to Rachel, and her world crumbled around her. She’d agreed to do one thing while home—help the youth build a float for the Independence Day parade. She’d said yes for a number of reasons. It would give her something to do while home. It would even look good on her résumé, and she needed all the help she could get to land this job. But mostly, she loved teens. All the snarky sides of them. Just like she’d been, way back when.

      But she hadn’t realized the opportunity would come with Hunter attached.

      She was supposed to work with him? Rachel wasn’t sure how to handle that. She only knew her plans remained the same: get the job she wanted and break out of this town. And just like the last time, she couldn’t let Hunter McDermott stand in her way.

      * * *

      Hunter’s ears were ringing. They felt like Kinsley had taken a pot and a pan and banged his head between them. His niece squirmed in his arms, and he realized that during Greg’s revelation, he’d been squeezing her pretty tight. When he spotted his sister, Autumn, talking to someone about ten feet away, Hunter placed Kinsley on the ground. A soft pat on her diapered bum had her scooting off toward her mom. When he was satisfied she’d been captured by his sister, Hunter turned his attention back to the strange turn of events happening in front of him.

      By the look of pure shock on Rachel’s face, Hunter imagined Greg hadn’t informed her of who the other leader would be, either. He must have assumed they didn’t know each other. He couldn’t be more wrong on that account.

      Would Rachel run now? She was certainly good at it.

      Hunter winced. When had he turned so bitter? He was morphing into his father, and he didn’t like it.

      He could be a gentleman and back out of helping. Rachel was the teen whisperer, not him. He was pretty much the brawn, like Greg had joked. Hunter had been asked to help with the float because he had a truck and a flatbed trailer. Two things that were needed. He’d agreed to help because he loved the youth group. He’d spent plenty of time there as a kid. It had become a safe place for him after his mom left, and he wanted to give back to that. He still did, but how could this ever work?

      “We’re thankful to have the two of you helping. I honestly wasn’t sure what we were going to do. But now that we have you both, crisis averted.” Greg’s sigh of relief told Hunter even more than his words. Hunter only knew Greg a little, but the man had been thrown into numerous roles at the church, even having to cover for the youth pastor who’d left unexpectedly.

      So much for Hunter’s idea of quietly disappearing. He wouldn’t leave the church or the kids abandoned like that. Building the float had been the highlight of a few of his summers, too. It was tradition, and he remembered how much he’d looked forward to it.

      Hunter sought Rachel’s eyes, wishing he could read her like he used to be able to. Back when they’d been inseparable. When she hadn’t looked at him as if her dog had just died and he was to blame. What was she thinking? “Didn’t you say you were here waiting on a job?” How would she have time for something like this? How long would she actually be home?

      “I am.” She toyed with a gold R pendant that hung on a slim chain around her neck, her fingers a stark white. “The school is doing more interviews and then waiting for a decision from the board. It might take a month or two.”

      “We’ll take you as long as we can have you,” Greg chimed in.

      That made one of them. Been there. Done that.

      Greg’s hand momentarily rested on Rachel’s arm after his comment, and Hunter fought annoyance at the man and at himself