The 15 Lb. Matchmaker. Jill Limber

a baby-sitter, Jolie thought as she followed him out the door, her stomach tied in knots at the thought she’d annoyed him. His wife was leaving.

      On her way out she hurriedly summed up what she knew about the man, still trying to decide if going with him was a reasonable plan.

      He was married, from a good family and offering a job she knew she could do. She had decided to live with courage and do something outrageous every day. Now it seemed as though she was going to be put to the test.

      Besides, Jolie thought, her other choice was to bed down in her car in Winslow’s garage.

      She assured herself if she didn’t feel comfortable with the situation when she got to their home, she’d ask Margie Price to bring her back to the diner.

      By the time Jolie got to the parking lot, he was at the passenger door hefting her bag into the back seat of the biggest pickup truck Jolie had ever seen. She stopped about five feet from the cowboy.

      He pointed at the open door. “Get in. I’ve got stock to tend to.”

      Taken aback by his abrupt behavior, Jolie inched toward the truck. “Don’t you want references?” she asked.

      Not that she could give him any work references, but it seemed like a good question to ask before they got too far out of town.

      He stared at her for a moment. “No. Is there some good reason you’re stalling?”

      “No, I—”

      “You told Helen you’d taken care of your family’s kids,” he said cutting her off and frowning at her as if he thought she might have lied to him.

      “Yes, I did,” she said, not quite knowing how she should respond to his lack of courtesy. She shivered as the cold evening air penetrated her thin blouse.

      “Good,” he answered, with such a tone of relief in his voice she relaxed a little. “You do want the job, don’t you?” he asked, still staring, his tone back to edgy.

      Jolie paused for another moment to shrug into her jacket, then decided she was being foolish to hesitate. “Yes, I do.”

      Her other choices sucked.

      “Okay.” He took two strides to get to her, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and set her on the seat.

      Breathless at the suddenness of his bold action and the feel of his hands on her, she scrambled to get her feet in before he closed the door on them.

      She took a deep breath and watched him stride around to the driver’s door, hop in, then turn the key in the ignition. The truck’s engine started with a roar.

      He muttered something under his breath and pulled out of the parking lot while she was still struggling to find her seat belt. Holding the shoulder strap, Jolie dug down behind the seat to locate the buckle.

      Suddenly his big warm hand slid along her hip and fished the fastener out from behind the seat.

      She felt a zing of sensation where he’d touched her, then immediately chided herself.

      He was married.

      And she had sworn off men.

      She murmured a quick thank-you. Hoping he couldn’t see her face flush, she managed to connect the two ends of the belt.

      The silence in the cab grew until Jolie couldn’t stand it anymore. “Is your home very far?”

      He shifted on the seat and shrugged one shoulder. “Nope.”

      Jolie waited for more of an explanation, but apparently that was his whole answer. She’d have to try another subject. “Mr. Price, how many children do you have?”

      He cleared his throat. “Griff.”

      Jolie turned to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”

      “My name is Griff. There’s one child.”

      Jolie nodded and waited for him to give her more information. He stared straight ahead at the road.

      Her annoyance grew until after a few moments she decided one of them needed to show some manners, so she tried again. “Griff, is your child a boy or a girl?”

      “Boy.”

      Jolie struggled to hold on to her temper. He acted like she was charging him by the word. “How old is your son?”

      He started to answer when a ringing phone interrupted them.

      He reached inside his jacket and pulled a cellular phone out of his shirt pocket.

      Turning her head just a little, Jolie studied him in the gathering gloom. His expression darkened as he listened intently to whoever was on the other end of the line.

      Scowling, he glanced at the clock set in the dashboard. “When?” he barked into the phone, tightening his grip on the instrument.

      His intensity made her uncomfortable. The man certainly didn’t believe in wasting time on conversation. Or manners. Jolie was accustomed to polite small talk, no matter how meaningless.

      “Take care of that now.” He barked into the phone.

      Jolie shifted her gaze to stare out the window at the empty country and the sapphire sky as she listened to his one-word questions and answers. The landscape that had seemed beautiful and wild a few hours ago now appeared barren. She fought down the urge to ask him to take her back to the diner.

      Don’t be a fool, she thought. She was going to be courageous. Besides, she didn’t have any options. She was starting to realize how easy her life had been when she’d let others make her decisions for her.

      She chanted her new mantra to herself. Courage, I live with courage. And because of that courage, she had her first job. She had wanted to work right after college, but her father had always had a reason she should wait. A trip, a charity ball to organize, overseeing the redecoration of the house.

      Griff turned off the main road. She glanced at him and decided she wouldn’t let a little surliness get her down. She’d just have to work on those clever comebacks that always occurred to her an hour after she needed them.

      She could see a house in the distance, sitting on a broad expanse of open plain. The huge building behind the house was probably a barn. Didn’t ranches have barns?

      She thought of a dozen questions, but when she glanced at Griff, who stabbed at the power button on his phone as if he was killing a venomous insect, she decided not to waste her breath.

      She’d talk to Mrs. Price.

      As he parked behind a small, battered, blue compact car, Jolie stared at the enchanting yellow-and-white Victorian house, complete with wraparound porch and gabled roof, and hid a smile.

      The big sour cowboy who had driven her in from Billings did not belong in such an enchanting home. It looked too feminine and had too much charm. His wife must be a lovely woman.

      Without a word he opened the driver’s door and climbed out, then hauled her suitcase out of the back.

      Jolie opened her door and slid out of the truck, following Griff up the front steps. She stepped through the open door and almost bumped into an old woman in the entry hall.

      The woman jammed an ancient black pillbox hat with torn netting over her gray hair while she scolded Griff Price. “About time you got back. Now I got to drive in the dark.”

      She thrust a lethal-looking hat pin through the battered crown of her hat and glared up at him.

      She glanced at Jolie. “Baby’s asleep.” Without saying another word, she headed out the door.

      Baby? For some reason Jolie had pictured an older child. She watched the woman march down the steps and get in the blue car.

      By this time Jolie was not the least bit surprised not to get an introduction.

      Just as the old woman