Frisco Joe's Fiancee. Tina Leonard

him, and then, most certainly, she’d lose his friendship.

      Friendship was all she had of him, and she was going to keep it. “We must have accidentally sent it out somehow.” Dimly she remembered one of them hitting the keyboard before the electricity went out, but at the time, she’d blindly grabbed for Mason and forgotten all about housekeepers and other trivial things. Obviously, one of them had smashed incorrect letters, and sent the e-mail to the wrong address.

      Now they were all sitting square on top of a huge dilemma. And yet, it would be good for Mason to see that he needed her…in spite of what he said to the contrary, his life would be so much better with her in it.

      But he’d have to learn that on his own. It was said that one could lead a horse to water but couldn’t make him drink. Lord only knew, she’d waited so long on Mason that it felt as if her watering can was nearly dry. “Can’t you interview them, Frisco?”

      “Seeing as how none of us here think we need a lady at the ranch, I’m not interested in that job,” Frisco said.

      “I think you could use a housekeeper. The place is never clean. Or tidy.”

      “Then it’s our job to clean our houses better,” Frisco said sternly. “When there’s as much to be done as a property this size requires, we’re not too worried if the dishes stay in the sink an extra day.”

      “Precisely my point. You could use the help.”

      “But not the aggravation a woman brings. We have you, Mimi, and that’s enough.”

      Laughter, not unkind, in the background nettled her. “What does that mean?”

      “It means when we need something, you’re kind enough to help us out.”

      That was the problem. Mason and all his brothers had the luxury of her jumping whenever they needed something. No wonder Mason saw her as an extension of his family. Not that it was a bad thing to have the Jeffersons looking out for her—it had come in handy over the years.

      But it was now or never. The tie that bound them had to be cut on both ends, or she’d always be little Mimi Cannady, almost-sis, tomboy-next-door, for-a-good-gag-call Mimi. Toilet-papering houses, tying cans on goat tails, painting rural mailboxes with smiley faces—they’d done it all.

      Together.

      “Not this time, Frisco,” she said. “I have a lot going on in my own life right now. Thanks for calling.”

      She hung up the phone and went to check on her father.

      “SHE’S NOT COMING,” Frisco said, hanging up the phone.

      “Mimi is abandoning us in our hour of need?” Last asked, his tone surprised.

      “See if we ever go fix her sinks when they back up again,” Laredo grumbled.

      “She’d be over here in a snap if it were Mason calling for help,” Ranger grumbled. “That woman’s a jill-in-the-box when it comes to him, popping up like crazy whenever he decides to wind her crank.”

      “I’ve never known exactly which one of them was winding whose crank,” Navarro commented.

      Calhoun laughed. “She’s been real prickly ever since you drank too much champagne at the Christmas party two months ago and sang that stupid Mimi-and-Mason, sitting-in-a-Christmas-tree—”

      “Shut up,” Archer said loudly, the author of the musical ditty.

      “Yeah, she has been different since then,” Last said. “Maybe if you’d act your age and not your hat size, we wouldn’t be struggling with this right now. She’d be over here—”

      “No.” Frisco shook his head. “No, this is our problem. We can take care of it ourselves.”

      The brothers glanced at each other, then huddled around the window. It looked like a garden party on the lawn. There were more women than the ranch had ever seen on the property at one time, and considering there were twelve brothers in the family, that was saying a lot.

      Frisco cleared his throat and drew himself up tall, realizing that the mantle of family was clearly on his shoulders. He was determined to bear it well. “I’ll explain that this is a simple miscommunication problem.”

      Laredo looked at him. “Do you want us for backup?”

      “I think I can handle this. The ladies might be intimidated by all of us.” He was somewhat intimidated by all of them—he hadn’t expected twenty anxious women to show up today. No doubt there would be some initial disappointment that there was no position available, but he could get money out of the Malfunction Junction Ranch’s petty cash to give them for the return bus trip.

      “You go, bro,” Bandera encouraged. “We’ll be cheering you on from in here.”

      “That’s right,” Tex agreed.

      “Couldn’t we keep just one?” Last asked. “Maybe the little blonde over there, holding the baby?”

      Frisco peered out, immediately seeing what made Last pick her out of the crowd. “She’s not a puppy. We can’t just ‘keep’ her. Anyway, she’d get lonely out here. Even Mimi gets lonely, and she was born in Union Junction.” He frowned for a second, thinking that the petite blonde would be more tempting as a date than a housekeeper. In fact, he wasn’t certain he’d get any work done at all if he knew she was in his house, cooking his meals, making a home for him.

      His mouth began to water at the thought of home-cooked food, prepared by caring hands. A strange humming buzzed in his ears as he watched her press the baby’s head against her lips in a sweet kiss. The baby was crying, probably cold from being outside in February’s brisk chill, despite the bunting encasing the small body. “What would we do with a baby out here, anyway?” he murmured.

      They all looked dumbfounded at that.

      Fannin shook his head. “Definite drawback. I guess.”

      “Maybe we could have them in for a cup of cocoa before we take them to the station,” Last suggested, his tone hopeful.

      “No!” Frisco knew exactly where his youngest brother was heading with that idea. Once the ladies were in the house, maybe Frisco would soften his stance…. Last had a sensitive heart where other people were concerned. He had reason to be a bit delicate—too young to really remember when their mother, Mercy, had died; too old not to question why their father, Maverick, had left them for parts unknown. He would sympathize with a single mother and her child.

      But this was no place for a woman, a baby or soft hearts. “We can’t, Last,” he said firmly, meeting his brother’s eyes. “I’ll go tell them.”

      He went outside, his shoulders squared. “Ladies,” he said loudly, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re not looking for a housekeeper at this time. We’ll be happy to pay your return bus fare to wherever you came from.”

      A middle-aged, not-unattractive woman stepped forward to be the spokeswoman. “How come you placed an ad, then?”

      “It was a mistake. We’re terribly sorry.”

      “You’re not the man who placed the ad. We saw his picture.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We came all the way to apply with him. Where is he?”

      “He’s gone for the next two weeks,” Frisco said, determined to be patient, not meeting the blonde’s gaze, though he realized she was staring up at him as he stood on the wide porch. Trying not to look back at her made his scalp tighten and prickle as if he were sweating all over his head. “We’ve contacted our brother, and he said the e-mail was sent in error. As I said, we are happy to take you to the bus station in town. Now, if you all will load into the trucks my brothers will be bringing around in a moment, we’ll get you started on your way back home.”

      They didn’t like it; grumbling rose among them, but there was nothing he could do about that. A mistake was a mistake,