Her Texas Cowboy. Jill Lynn

wore.

      Caused a bit of trouble, that. He wasn’t supposed to be noticing how she looked—though, really, it would be impossible for him not to. He was supposed to be renewing their friendship. And he wasn’t off to a great start by the look of it.

      He set the large tote on the ground by their feet. “Hey, you’re here early.”

      “I need to talk to you before the kids arrive.”

      “About the float?” He could only hope.

      “No.”

      Ah. So she’d found the stuff.

      “I assume it was you who started working on the house?”

      He didn’t have anything to hide. “I did.”

      “I wasn’t even serious about it. It was just a passing thought. Why would you do something like that?” Her breath hissed out. “It doesn’t even make sense. I’m only going to be here for a month or two.”

      “What’s Cash planning to do with the house?”

      “I don’t know. I asked Olivia what happened with it. She said the last renter trashed it, and Cash hasn’t had time to deal with it since.”

      “So after you live there for the summer, he can rent it out again. If none of his ranch hands want to lease it, one of ours might. We’re not talking about remodeling the place. Just cleaning it up and making it livable so you can stay there while you’re home.”

      Silence reigned. Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, she lifted one freckled shoulder. “I guess that makes sense.” Just that movement made his mouth go dry. Pesky attraction. At least he’d had a lot of practice shoving it down and ignoring it over the years.

      “But why are you helping me?” Her forehead crinkled. “Why would you do that? I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you and I aren’t on the best of terms. It makes no sense. Unless...” She might as well spit it out since he didn’t have any idea what she was trying to say. “Hunter...” Her voice lowered as though someone was hiding around the corner and might overhear them. “You’re not trying to restart anything between us, are you?”

      What? She thought he was...oh, man. He hadn’t even considered that working on the house would make it look like he wanted something more with Rachel. Partly because the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. But, of course, she couldn’t read his thoughts.

      “We can’t.” Her lips pressed together. “I can’t.”

      He agreed with her. He couldn’t, either. “I’m not trying to start anything between us. I was just sick of—” he raised his hands “—fighting. Not being able to be around each other. Figured it was time to move on. I knew you could use a hand, and this is what friends do.”

      “So you’re not...”

      “Nope.”

      “Oh, good.” Distress dropped from her frame, her sigh audible. And a little bit offensive. Did she have to be so relieved about it?

      Whatever. It didn’t matter. Hunter wasn’t on the hunt for a wife, anyway. What had happened with his mom and then Rachel had tainted that idea for him. He just wanted a quiet life on the ranch. No drama. No women who didn’t want to be there. If he found someone, that would be great, but he wasn’t going to do backflips to make it happen. He could be content on his own.

      “I’m not trying to pursue anything more than friendship with you, so you can relax. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Or to himself. “I would never ask you to stay again, Rach. I know you don’t belong here.” Silence swirled between them, the past rearing up with ugly memories. “Promise. You can trust me.”

      Her pained glance told him she wasn’t so sure about that.

      “Will it put you at ease if I’m not the only one working on the house? Because Brennon called and said he and Val want to pitch in. They’re planning to come out Saturday.”

      “What?” Exasperation laced the word. “When did you talk to them?”

      “Just a bit ago. Why?”

      Sounded like she muttered traitor. “What is up with all of you? I didn’t even ask for help. This is crazy.”

      “Are you really surprised? Don’t you remember what it’s like living in a small town? This is how it is. When someone needs something, everyone pitches in. That’s the deal. You’ll just have to adjust to the idea.”

      “And what if I don’t want to?”

      Hunter knew the answer to this question. His life had taught him this truth numerous times. “You can’t always get what you want.”

       Chapter Four

      Somewhere along the way, her plan had backfired. Go over there and tell Hunter to back off. Rachel pictured herself doing that “go to the mattresses” punching move like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, fists jabbing into thin air. And then failing miserably—also just like the character in the movie.

      Of course she wasn’t going to let her friends work on the house without pulling her own weight, which meant she’d be spending even more time with Hunter. Rachel had definitely lost the battle to avoid him while home. He’d said he didn’t want anything more than friendship with her—and she believed him—but she still didn’t relish being in his presence. Even the friendship he wanted felt too far out of reach for them. Their bridge had washed out years before, and it was too late to rebuild.

      Get used to having people intrude in your life, he’d told her.

      Well, she didn’t plan to. Rachel wasn’t about to let her guard down and have him and a whole town rushing in.

      Was. Not.

      Liv had agreed that Rachel staying at the house was a great idea. Which meant now she just needed to broach the subject with her brother.

      They’d just finished dinner, and Grayson had run off to play.

      Olivia collected Ryder from his high chair. “I’m going to change his diaper.” She shot Rachel a look, as if to say, do it, already, then headed up the stairs.

      Fine. “Cash, what are you planning to do with the little ranch house?”

      Her brother finished a long swig of milk. “Not sure. T.J. took off about three months ago. He quit without notice and made a mess of the place. I haven’t had the time or energy to deal with it.” His back pressed into his chair. “I might just let it sit there. Not a real fan of being a landlord, anyway.”

      “What if someone got it back in functioning order for you? And then lived there for a little bit and then you could rent it out again?”

      His forehead creased. And why wouldn’t it? She was talking in circles.

      “I want to live there while I’m home. It will give you guys your house back—”

      “This is your house, too, you know.”

      “Technically it’s yours.” When they’d settled things with their parents’ will, Cash had bought out her portion of the house. She hadn’t wanted it.

      “This will always be your home. You are always welcome.”

      The strangest prick of emotion touched her eyes. “Okay.” She heard him. But no matter how many times he said it, she would always feel like a leaf scraping along the pavement in a gust of wind. Rachel didn’t really belong anywhere.

      When she moved to Houston, maybe she’d settle in. Put down roots.

      “If I can stay at the house, I’ll be close by. My friends are going to help me get it cleaned up and functioning, and then when I leave, you can rent it