A Cowboy For Christmas. Rachel Lee

are necessary to the survival of ten-year-olds. As for the dog food, unless you want to heft forty-pound sacks, leave that to me. I guess I can keep them out in the barn.”

      “Didn’t she bring anything for herself?”

      “A duffel. The rest will be shipped.”

      She reached for some of the cloth grocery bags, then said quickly, “I’m sorry for how I reacted when you told me Regina was coming. I know you must be thrilled.”

      He paused as he reached for a sack of kibble. “It’s okay, Abby. You weren’t hired to be a nanny, and frankly from what I’ve been hearing, that’s not what she needs. I think those nannies got run off because Stella was ignoring her. For a kid, any attention is better than none.”

      Abby, too, paused and dared to look at him. His blue eyes seemed quiet, like deep pools. “That’s sad,” she said finally.

      “I agree. Anyway, she needs me.”

      “Considering you came here to be a hermit, your life could get difficult.”

      “Not because of her. We stopped and signed her up for school. She starts tomorrow. She also understands my work habits. If she wants, she can spend time in the studio with me.” He cocked a brow. “Unfortunately, now she’s talking about getting a horse.”

      In spite of her lingering nerves, Abby laughed. “That’s a job and a half.”

      “No kidding. I used to take care of them. Well, we’ll see. I expect we’ll jolt a while before we all settle in somehow.”

      He looked after his daughter and the running dog. “What I said about your job changing?”

      She tensed again. “Yes?”

      “I meant only that now there’s somebody who has to get regular meals.” Then he flashed a grin at her. “And I don’t mean the dog. General is her job.”

      “His name is General?”

      “Rally for short. And no, don’t ask me to explain. It just is.”

      Abby helped with the groceries, then began stowing them as Rory took the rest of the dog food out to the barn. One forty-pound bag had taken up residence on the floor of the spacious pantry, however. Along with two stainless steel bowls on a stand.

      Shrugging, Abby put the stand in one corner of the kitchen with a rug under it and filled one of the bowls with water. That dog must need a good drink by now.

      She heard the girl and dog burst in through the front door before Rory had finished putting the dog food away. Apparently General, or Rally, knew exactly what he needed and where it was. The clacking of claws on wood alerted her, and Abby backed away to a safe distance. Moments later, the Great Dane skidded through the door and found the water bowl. He was not a neat drinker.

      Regina followed more hesitantly. “Hi,” the girl said. She looked so much like her father but with a heart-shaped face.

      “Hi,” Abby answered. “I’m Abby.”

      “I figured. Lots of people call me Gina, but I like Regina better.”

      “Regina it is.”

      A shy smile. “Rally’s a good dog. You don’t need to be afraid of him.”

      “He looks as big as a horse.”

      “I’m sorry he’s so messy.”

      “It’s just water.”

      Regina gave a little laugh. “He drools, too. Lots of big dogs do. But it’s my job to clean up after him.”

      “Is he allowed on furniture?”

      Regina nodded. “He likes to take up a whole couch. I hope Dad has two.”

      “Dad has plenty,” Abby answered wryly, thinking of the huge living room with its equally huge furniture, including two oversized sofas and full-sized piano. White carpeting. She wondered how often she’d be spot-treating it.

      Just then Rory came in the back door and joined them.

      Rally drained the bowl and looked around.

      “Does he need more water?” Abby asked. “I can get it.”

      But Rally seemed to have another interest. He walked slowly over to Abby, who tried not to shrink. Heavens, she was almost eye-to-eye with him.

      “Rally, sit,” Regina said mildly.

      The dog obeyed, but Abby had to laugh because even as he sat in front of her, his tail was wagging like mad. “He does seem friendly.”

      “Hold your hand palm up and let him sniff you,” Regina said. “Then you can pet him and you’ll be friends for life.”

      Friends for life sounded like the best alternative with an animal so big. She glanced at Rory and found him watching with amusement.

      Still unsure but determined not to show it, Abby held her hand out as directed. Rally leaned his head forward and sniffed at her hand. His breath was powerful, matching his size, she guessed.

      “Now you can scratch him behind the ear,” Regina said.

      Abby did so and enjoyed the way the dog suddenly grinned and wagged his tail even harder.

      “Friends for life,” Rory said. “But seriously, Abby, Regina cleans up after him and feeds him.”

      “Right,” Regina said. “Can I see my room now? And you said you have a big studio. Am I allowed in there?”

      “Any time you want.”

      The two of them headed upstairs to pick the girl’s room, but Rally remained behind. Abby stood looking back at him, wondering if he wanted more petting, more water, or just to hold her prisoner. She had no idea.

      Drool started to drip from his jaw. He extended a big tongue to slurp it away. And for some reason that made him look less dangerous to her. Big, sappy dog, she thought.

      She extended her hand again, and this time he leaned into it, encouraging her scratches. Okay then. Not a prisoner.

      Almost laughing at herself, she moved. He backed away, watching with his head cocked. After she refilled his water bowl, he drank half of it. Apparently satisfied now, he amazed her by loping for the stairs, following Regina’s voice.

      This could work, Abby thought. Well, it kind of had to. And thank goodness this was such a big house. The dog had made this huge kitchen feel small. Briefly.

      Regina seemed nice enough, a great relief since she’d been expecting a hellion. Of course, that could change, but right now everything appeared to be all right.

      She caught herself as she started pulling out the ingredients for dinner. She had developed a terrible habit of expecting everything to turn out badly. Everything. She didn’t even know that child, but here she was making assumptions that it would all go to hell.

      “Thank you, Porter,” she muttered to her absent ex-husband as she began to slice thawed chicken breasts into small cubes for chicken Alfredo. She needed a major attitude adjustment of some kind. She just wasn’t sure how to do it.

      For what seemed like ages she’d been living in a sea of pain and betrayal, and it wasn’t as if she could wash it away with a shower. Trust had been shattered, suspicion had become a way of life and apparently so had the belief that everything would go south eventually.

      Not a very optimistic outlook for a twenty-six-year-old woman. She had a lot of years left, and unless she wanted to become a paranoid recluse, she needed to get over this hump.

      Hump? Right now it looked bigger than the Rocky Mountains she could see out back.

      * * *

      For over a week, everything went well enough. Regina came home from school, grabbed a snack and either disappeared to her bedroom or out to the barn to do her schoolwork.