The Way to a Cowboy's Heart. Teresa Southwick

room with Emily in hot pursuit. P.J. poured lemonade all around, waiting and refilling glasses as needed. When their most immediate need was taken care of, she sniffed and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

      “Showers. Pronto.”

      “Do we have to?” Mark asked. There were lines of fatigue around his eyes.

      “We don’t smell that bad,” Todd said.

      “I’m going to skip the part where we argue that point,” P.J. said. “Let’s go straight to where I tell you no shower, no dinner. ¿Comprende?”

      “Yeah,” they grumbled, setting their glasses in the sink just before leaving the room.

      Steve lingered, and when he turned, there was suspicion and hostility in his expression. Cade had dished out that look enough times to know it when he saw it. But he’d never been on the receiving end before and it was damned uncomfortable.

      “Do we get to ride the horses tomorrow, dude?” Steve asked.

      Cade pointed at the kid. “Let’s get something straight. You’re the dude. I’m the boss. We’ll ride when I say so.”

      “What do you say about tomorrow?” P.J. asked.

      Cade thought about the million things he had to do. He couldn’t turn these city kids loose, and he did’t have time to nursemaid them. But he hesitated as he looked into the boy’s cool blue eyes. Something about Steve Hicks disturbed him. Although anger wiped every other emotion from his face, Cade sensed the eager anticipation just below the surface. For some reason, he recognized that the boy was excited at the prospect of horseback riding. And he also knew if anyone pointed that out to him, he would deny it.

      Cade looked at P.J. who also waited expectantly for his answer.

      He shook his head. “You don’t just get up on a horse and ride.”

      “No?” Steve folded his arms over his chest. He was beginning to fill out. He would be a strong man someday.

      “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “It takes time. There are things you need to learn first.”

      “Like what?” Steve asked, his expression dark, his tone cutting.

      “You have to earn his trust. Then maybe you can find out how to saddle the animal. How to get him to move, to stop, turn right and left. How to—”

      “So show us.”

      “I don’t have time tomorrow.”

      “Then just let us do it.”

      “You can’t.” Cade shoved his hand through his hair.

      “Why not?”

      “Too dangerous.” He stared the kid down even though if looks could kill, he would be six feet under. “You could get thrown, stepped on. Horses can get mean. I need to personally oversee everything and make sure you’re ready.”

      “So do it.”

      “I already told you I don’t have time.”

      P.J. glanced over her shoulder at him as she poured oil into a big pot. “Could one of your employees supervise?”

      Steve’s eyes briefly lit up. “Yeah. Why couldn’t one of them teach us?”

      “They have work to do.” He sucked air into his lungs. “So do you. I’ve assigned chores to all of you. Remember?”

      “year.”

      “You never get something for nothing in life. You have to work hard to get ahead.” The words sounded hauntingly familiar, but he didn’t stop to think about that.

      “Figures,” Steve said contemptuously.

      “What’s that mean?” Cade asked.

      “That I should have known better.” He glared. “You don’t want us here. You never did.”

      “Hold on—”

      “Why should I? What’ll you do? Send me back for telling the truth? What do I care?”

      “This is strictly a safety issue,” Cade said. Again, he got the feeling he’d had this conversation before.

      “If you’re worried about being sued if I get hurt, don’t. Nobody cares that much.”

      Cade moved forward. “I do.”

      “Like hell you do.” Steve stomped from the room.

      Cade was about to stop him with a stern reprimand about a lady present, but the words never came out. Shaking off the weird, déjà vu kind of feeling, he glanced at P.J.

      “You’re mad again.” He’d never been able to read a woman so fast and easily. But he’d never encountered such expressive big, brown eyes either.

      “I am not,” she disagreed. She rested her back against the countertop, ignoring the pot of oil she had heating on the stove.

      “You’re not upset about what just happened?”

      “No.”

      Arms folded over her chest, and the rigid line of her mouth convinced him otherwise. It surprised him how much he wanted to put the teasing smile back on her face.

      “Does Sister Mary Constance know you’re a fibber?”

      “She knows I do my job to the best of my ability and that I care about all the students in my charge.”

      “Why do I get the feeling we’re suddenly talking about me?”

      “Because we are. Do you like the kids?”

      “I don’t know them.”

      “You’re not doing anything to change that either.”

      “What I told him was the truth.”

      “I believe you.”

      “Then what’s the problem, P.J.? Why are you mad?”

      “I’m not mad. Not exactly.” She sighed. “He’s crying out for just a little of your time.”

      “And I don’t have any to give. Why can’t you understand that? This is a working ranch, not a boys’ camp. If I don’t work, all of us go under.”

      Odd, he thought, that she’d figured out that Steve was begging for his time. He had understood that right away and wondered how she had known. But it didn’t matter what he understood or why, he wouldn’t get involved. Not with the kids or anyone else. He had nothing to give.

      He looked into P.J.’s dark, troubled eyes. He wanted to erase the concern he saw in her face. Funny, he’d never cared before what anyone thought about him. But it was different with her. She’d only been there a short time and her good opinion mattered to him. That was a real bad sign.

      Then again, why should he lose any sleep over it? He was running on empty and he had been for a long time.

      P.J.’s anger evaporated as she watched the play of emotions over his rugged face. There were lines of fatigue around his mouth and circles beneath his eyes. She understood that running his ranch was a big job. She realized that squeezing in time for the kids was hard, and he had freely admitted the summer program was something he didn’t want to do.

      She wasn’t mad at him as much as she was disappointed and confused. She watched Cade watch her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of cut-up potatoes immersed in water to keep them from turning brown.

      She needed something to occupy her hands, hold her nerves in check. The man unsettled her in so many ways she’d stopped counting. Why was he so reluctant to get involved with the boys? On top of that, he seemed to know what she was thinking almost before she did. He read her as easily as a digital thermometer.