Her Texas Cowboy. Jill Lynn

concentrate on the conversation. “The search for a youth pastor probably won’t wrap up until the end of July. But with you two handling the float, we only have the lock-in to cover, which I’m heading up, and then we’ll hopefully have a new youth pastor starting in August or September.”

      The man looked pleased as punch. Hunter didn’t know what to feel. For so many years, he and Rachel had avoided each other. They’d never dealt with what had happened between them. It had just been easier to sweep their past under the rug. He blamed her for so much, and he was just as sure she held him responsible for what went wrong.

      And now he sounded like his father—stuck. Unable to move on.

      If there was one thing Hunter wanted more than a quiet, content life of ranching, it was to not turn into his dad. He would do just about anything to avoid following in his old man’s footsteps.

      The three of them talked for another minute about when the float building was scheduled to start—this Wednesday. And what time—seven o’clock. Then Greg split off to catch up with someone else.

      “I—” Rachel looked as though she’d witnessed a terrible car accident, a bit of green dusting her face. “I should go find my nephews and Cash and Liv. They’re probably waiting for me.”

      She didn’t leave him any time to respond before she headed for the front doors of the church. Should he follow her? Make sure she was okay?

      Nah. She wouldn’t welcome his intrusion.

      Hunter watched her burst out into the sunlight, angst churning in his gut. The memories with Rachel flooded back, fast and furious. Before their relationship had gone so wrong, it had been good.

      But what had stood between them six years ago still stretched between them now. That and a lot of hurt.

      Hunter refused to turn into his father and grow resentful, holding on to the past. Which, if Rachel and Hunter were going to be working together with the youth, meant one thing. The two of them were just going to have to learn to be friends again.

      Whether she wanted to be or not.

       Chapter Two

      Ouch. Rachel jolted awake when her elbow met the wooden side of her nephew’s fire truck bedframe. She rubbed the spot and stared up at the ceiling.

      The house Rachel had grown up in—where her brother, his wife and their two boys now lived—only had three bedrooms upstairs and a small office downstairs. Her four-year-old nephew, Grayson, occupied one bedroom, and Ryder, who was just a year old, had a slightly smaller one. Cash and Olivia were in the master. There was no guest room, which meant that, with her added into the mix, Gray was sleeping on Ryder’s floor so she could have his room. He currently considered the situation “very cool” and liked “camping” every night, but that wouldn’t last forever. Certainly not for the month or two she’d be home. And while she didn’t mind sleeping in a twin bed the shape of a fire truck, she was willing to live somewhere else and give Cash, Olivia and the boys their own space back. Except that, with her limited amount of time in town plus the fact that she should be saving money, she wasn’t sure how to solve the space dilemma.

      “Auntie Rach, watch out, the stampede is coming!” Grayson tore into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed with her, causing air to rush from her lungs.

      “Grayson Warren Maddox, I told you not to wake her.” Olivia paused in the doorway to Rachel’s temporary room. She blew a wayward hair from her forehead, looking a little frazzled for eight o’clock in the morning.

      Rachel’s sister-in-law had aged well in the years since she’d met and married Cash. She wore khaki shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, her long mocha hair pulled into a ponytail. Even without makeup, she was striking. But more than her outside beauty, she was tender and compassionate with enough snark to make her likeable. The sister Rachel had never had. When Rachel had been in high school, Olivia had been her volleyball coach. She’d made a huge impact on Rachel and mentored her at a time when she’d been missing her parents and floundering.

      “Sorry, Rach. Gray needs to get dressed and I had planned to sneak in and grab a few things without waking you. But it seems our boy had a different idea.”

      Rachel captured Grayson and tugged him close, holding him in a tight grip that made him squirm and giggle. “It’s okay. I was up and hungry, and I love to eat little boys for breakfast.”

      He squealed and tried to get away while she smacked a kiss to his chocolate hair that still carried the sweet, fruity smell of kiddo shampoo from last night’s bath.

      “Auntie Rachel, will you take me riding?” When those hazel eyes peered up at her, Rachel didn’t stand a chance of saying no. Not that she wanted to. Part of her plan for the summer was to help Liv with the kids. If she was home waiting on a job, she could at least lend a hand. She’d already finished all of the requirements needed by the State of Texas in order to be ready for the new opportunity. Which meant now she needed to occupy herself while playing the waiting game.

      “Yep. Just let me get dressed. Can’t ride in our pajamas.”

      Grayson’s eyes lit up. “But that would be cool.”

      Within a half hour Rachel had eaten a bowl of cereal and downed a cup of coffee. Now she and Grayson were saddled up and headed out. He looked so happy, sitting in front of her in the saddle, mini cowboy hat on his head. Her heart just about gushed out all the love it held. She really, really adored her nephews. They were one plus in being home this summer.

      The two of them meandered out on the ranch, stopping to visit with Cash and a few of the ranch hands before riding to the east edge of the property.

      Rachel had forgotten about the old house that popped into view. It had been part of a ranch that had gone under decades before, and her parents had bought the land as an addition to the Circle M. She remembered a story about a skirmish between her dad and Hunter’s, as they’d both wanted the property flanked by their two spreads. Her father had won the tussle, and she and Hunter had grown up on neighboring ranches.

      Not that the McDermotts cared about this small slip of ranchland anymore. They were like land barons. They’d snatched up a number of smaller ranches over the years and now had a massive operation.

      She directed Bonnie, the sweet mare they were riding, toward the house. A grayish hue tinted the white paint, as though the siding had given up fighting against the Texas sun years before. It looked deserted. No recent tire tracks. The grass around it was unruly and long.

      Strange. Before she’d left for college, various ranch hands had rented the small house or negotiated living there as part of their pay. She didn’t know what Cash did with it now.

      Movement to the east caught her eye. A man on a horse crested a hill on the McDermott ranch. Too far away to tell for sure who it was, especially with the cowboy hat, but the build could definitely be Hunter’s.

      “Can we get down and look around?” Grayson questioned.

      “Sure!”

      Gray looked at her a little funny, and why wouldn’t he? She’d just shown a lot of excitement for poking around an empty house. But if it would help her avoid a run-in with Hunter—if that was him—she couldn’t resist.

      Rachel still couldn’t believe the two of them were in charge of building the float with the youth. That would have been useful information to have when Greg had asked Rachel to help. Since their conversation at church yesterday, she’d gone over and over the situation, and she couldn’t see an escape route. She’d committed, and she wasn’t going to back out and leave the church strapped. Besides, she wanted to work with the teens. This would be a great opportunity to show the town she’d changed—that she wasn’t the same immature girl she’d once been.

      Rachel wanted people to see her as who she’d become. Not the queen of bad decisions. A crown she’d once had the monopoly on.