Her Texas Cowboy. Jill Lynn

      “Just standing on a chair in the corner of a deserted house?”

      “Yep.” Rachel didn’t have to explain anything to Hunter. For all he knew, she’d been looking at something on the ceiling. Or examining a crack in the wall. Or checking out her ability to fly if she jumped from the chair.

      The real question was, what was he doing here?

      He motioned to the floor. “Tell me that wasn’t a reaction to the cute baby mouse that just went through here.”

      Rats. He’d witnessed her dramatics.

      “What happened to the country girl I knew? The one who could ride as fast as the boys. Wasn’t afraid of snakes. Got dirtier faster than anyone else.”

      “Most of that was true, but I faked the part about snakes. I was afraid of them. Just didn’t want to admit it. If I had, you would have tormented me with them.”

      He laughed, the lines on his face softening. “Well played.” He nodded toward her strange standing place. “Don’t suppose you want any help getting out of here.” His dimples flashed. “You know, so that mean, scary mouse doesn’t get you.”

      “I’m fine.” The mouse was long gone. Wasn’t it? Either way, Rachel wasn’t going to do anything to prolong being in Hunter’s presence. Even if that creature came back out. Ran across her boot. Gave her the heebie-jeebies again.

      She could handle a little rodent. Just not the man looking at her with far too much amusement.

      Besides, with all of the noise they were making, the mouse would be miles away.

      Rachel only wished Hunter would follow suit.

      * * *

      “Don’t you have a ranch to run?” Rachel huffed loudly enough to blow the walls of the house down like the big bad wolf in the three little pigs story.

      Hunter tried to stem the curve of his mouth, but it wasn’t working. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to rile up Rachel. “Trying to get rid of me?”

      Her head tilted, ponytail bouncing with the movement. “Am I that obvious? Because I’m trying to be.”

      Despite claiming she didn’t want help, she was still standing on the chair. He might be enjoying her predicament and annoyance with him just a bit too much. It had been a few years since he’d gotten any emotional response from her, and he kind of liked knowing he still affected her, even if it meant she wanted to smack him.

      “All right, princess.” The name earned a scowl as he approached her chair/throne and offered her a hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

      Her body language screamed get lost and don’t touch in one easy-to-read display. “What are you doing?”

      “Helping you.”

      “I told you, I’m fine.” She made a shooing motion. “Just go.”

      “Now, Rach. I’m not so much of a jerk that I’m going to let you get mauled by a mouse.” Her squeak of indignation and the fire in her eyes told him how she felt about that comment. “Come on.” He grew serious and dropped the teasing act, re-offering his hand. “Let’s go.”

      “No, thank you.”

      He’d also forgotten just how stubborn she was. When they’d been younger and first started hanging out, it had taken Hunter some time to prove she could trust him. Rachel’d been the queen of building walls and defending them. Eventually he’d gotten through. And once he had, it had been worth it.

      But she’d had years to rebuild. Which meant they could be here all day. And, honestly, he just didn’t have time for that. Despite what she thought of him, he’d heard her scream when the mouse had spooked her, and he wasn’t going to just leave her stranded.

      Before he could analyze how mad she’d be, Hunter bent and scooped her over his right shoulder.

      She screeched and whacked him on the back, where the upper half of her body hung. Wiggled trying to break free. He strode through the bedroom and living room, one arm looped around her legs so she didn’t fall to the floor with all of her squirming.

      “What are you doing? Put me down, you big ogre.”

      His chest shook with quiet laughter as he exited through the front door. Rachel’s nephew Grayson played nearby, destroying an anthill with a stick. He only glanced up for a second—not the least bit concerned about the racket his aunt was making or the fact that she was slung over Hunter’s shoulder—and quickly went back to his digging and investigating.

      Hunter deposited Rachel on the front porch. “This far enough or do you need me to go farther?” He adopted a serious face and nodded toward the field. “But who knows what-all is out there. Could be a spider or, even worse, a crow—they make scary noises. I’ve heard stories about them swooping down and snatching up small children. You’re a skinny thing. Can’t be too careful.”

      This time her hit landed on his arm. He chuckled, which, judging by the way her face had turned as menacing as a thunderstorm, was only making her more upset.

      “Are you done making fun of me yet? I don’t appreciate you taking the liberty to cart me around like a sack of feed.” She growled the last bit, crossing her arms over a simple white T-shirt that made renewed laughter catch in his throat. He’d been too amused and distracted by her antics inside to notice what she was wearing. Most often when she came home to visit and he caught a glimpse of her, she was dressed up for church. Always looking so put together. Usually in heels, too. Not cowboy boots and faded jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. The simple outfit almost knocked him over.

      Though, right now he’d better concentrate on her not kicking him in the shin. She looked mad enough.

      “I think I’m done, though I reserve the right to make fun of you about this again in the future. What are you two doing out here, anyway?”

      He’d been out checking for signs of coyotes when he’d spotted Rachel and her nephew. He’d stopped to talk to her because he thought they needed to get some things worked out. Like, was she still planning to help the youth build the float? If not, he’d need to find someone else. Hunter was happy to help with the float building, but he didn’t feel qualified to be the only one in charge of a group of teens.

      “Grayson wanted to explore.” Rachel stared straight forward after answering him, her jaw set in that stubborn look she did so well.

      “Did you back out of helping with the youth?”

      Her cheeks pinkened, highlighting her freckles. “No. I didn’t.”

      “So you’re committing?”

      Her gaze snapped to him. Oops. Bad choice of words.

      When she finally nodded, his worry decreased. “That’s good. They need someone like you in their lives.”

      At that, her demeanor softened a bit. “Did you back out?”

      “Nope. Wouldn’t want you to lose out on the delight of working with me.”

      That earned him an eye roll and a shaking head. Just like the old Rachel.

      He nodded over to Grayson, who was now inspecting under the front porch as though he might find a treasure. “Ran into Grayson on my way in and he told me he was planning to move out here.”

      Cute kid. Always dressed like a miniature cowboy, that one. Boots. Jeans. T-shirt. Coupled with scrawny arms, a mop of brown hair and eyes that brimmed with curiosity.

      “I wish.”

      “What’s that mean?”

      Rachel peered through the front window before releasing an audible sigh. “Cash’s house is so crowded with me added in. Grayson was asking if this could be his fort, and I was thinking the same thing. That I want