The Lionhearted Cowboy Returns. Patricia Thayer

boy blinked. “You gonna pay me?”

      Jeff nodded. “This is hard work. I’d like you to help out a few hours in the mornings. I need to learn my way around here. It’s been a while since I handled horses. So, are you available?”

      The kid couldn’t hide his surprise. “Yeah. Do I get to help work the horses, too?”

      “We need to talk to your mom about that. But from what I saw the other day, you’re an experienced rider.”

      Colin puffed out his chest. “Since I was four years old. I’ll be nine next month.”

      He liked the boy sharing that with him. “We still have to talk to your mom.”

      “Talk to me about what?”

      They both turned around to find Lacey dressed in her uniform for her job at the supermarket. She came down the aisle. Her hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail, showing off her high cheekbones and brightgreen eyes. Damn, if she didn’t get his blood going.

      He finally found his voice. “I’ve asked Colin if he wants to help me for a few hours a day. I was going to pay him.”

      “Can I, Mom?” The boy was excited. “Can I work with the horses?”

      Lacey didn’t look pleased with the idea. “We’ll talk about it later. Why don’t you go up to the house and wash up, Colin? Mindy’s here to watch you and Emily while I go to work.”

      “Ah, Mom,” he argued. “Why can’t I help with the horses like I did with Dad?”

      “Colin,” Jeff began. “Your mom and I need to discuss this,” he suggested, realizing his mistake of not telling Lacey about his idea first.

      The boy’s enthusiasm quickly died, and he turned and marched off.

      Once alone, Lacey turned back to him, anger furrowing her eyebrows. “If you’re trying to win my son over, you’ll probably do it, especially when you dangle horses in his face.”

      “I wouldn’t have, if I’d known how disrespectful he is to you. Why do you let him talk to you that way?”

      Lacey didn’t need this today. She’d purposely avoided Jeff since he’d been coming in the mornings. She hadn’t liked the feelings he’d created in her whenever he was around. Feelings she’d had to kill off years ago. “Colin has had a rough time since his dad’s death.”

      “Most kids do, but you still need to rein the boy in.”

      “What makes you the expert?”

      “I acted like a jerk at his age, too. Someone needs to take him in hand, and that means stop coddling him.”

      Her eyes widened. “He’s only eight years old.”

      “Almost nine,” he corrected her.

      “He’s not an army recruit, Jeff. He’s still a little boy who’s just lost his daddy.”

      “He also needs to learn respect for you. I don’t think Trevor would have let him talk to you that way.”

      At the mention of her husband’s name, sadness hit her. From the day Colin had been born, father and son had been inseparable. “Trevor would have handled it differently.”

      Jeff stiffened. “Sorry, I’m not Trevor.”

      Lacey tried to keep calm, but having Jeff around was making everything difficult. “Look, Gentry. We might be thrown together temporarily, but my family is my concern. Not yours. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me decide what’s good for my son.”

      Jeff’s dark gaze watched her for what seemed like an eternity. “Agreed,” he finally said. “But there’s something else we need to discuss.”

      She studied the man she’d practically grown up with. They’d shared childish secrets, survived adolescence, and he’d been her husband’s best friend.

       Her first lover.

      Lacey glanced away. No, she couldn’t think about that anymore. She couldn’t let him know that it had been on her mind, either. Easy to say, harder to do when she’d been noticing the man far too much. The first thing she had to do was stop being so uptight whenever he was around.

      “What…what do you want to talk about?” she asked.

      “I think I’ve solved your problem with the ranch. Have you thought about taking on a partner?”

      The next day Jeff stood back and gave the new portable shower a nod of approval. Not bad. The five-gallon container hung from a tree branch, directly over the canvas cubicle. At least now he could wash his entire body at one time. The hot summer sun would warm up the spring water quickly.

      “So this is what you army guys call roughing it.”

      Jeff swung around, nearly losing his balance on the uneven ground, to find his cousin. A grinning Brandon Randell was dressed in the standard cowboy uniform of boots, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt to protect him from the Texas sun. He held the reins of his black quarter horse, Shadow.

      “Well, I’ll be damned.” They exchanged a hearty hug. “What brings you out of the city, Detective Randell?” He glanced over his shoulder at the black stallion. “Just happened to be out for a ride?”

      “I stopped by Hank’s, and he told me you were staying up here.” Brandon shrugged. “So Shadow and I cut through a couple of neighboring pastures and here we are. By car it would have been about a twenty-mile drive.”

      “So you did some trespassing,” Jeff teased.

      “I just tell people I’m on sheriff’s business.” Brandon jammed his hands on his hips. “Besides, I need to come see how my cousin’s doing.”

      Jeff had no doubt that Brandon had been sent to check on him. “Not bad,” he told him. “I’ve lived in worse conditions. Best of all, I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

      Brandon smiled. “Surely you’re not saying the Randell clan is too much for you?”

      “I can handle them in small doses. Dad’s been running interference for me.”

      “Take it from me, cuz, it’s not going to stop a Randell. You know, eventually they’re going to come looking for you.” Brandon’s smile disappeared. “Just know it’s only because we all care about you. Man, it’s good to have you home.”

      “It’s good to be back.” Jeff relaxed a little. He’d always gotten along with the oldest cousin. When Jeff, his mother and sister had first come here years ago, it had been Brandon’s mother, Abby, who’d helped them find a place to live. They also shared the fact that their mothers had come from abusive backgrounds, and Randell men had come to their rescue.

      Brandon led his horse to the creek for some water, and examined the shower structure. “Not bad. I guess you couldn’t stand your own stink, huh?”

      They both laughed. It felt good to Jeff. “You could say that.”

      Brandon was like all the Randell men—tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and eyes. There was also the distinguishing cleft chin that marked nearly all the male Randells. Brandon had surprised everyone after college by going into law enforcement instead of ranching. He was a detective with the sheriff’s office.

      “Granddad Hank said you bought two of the Guthrie’s quarter horses at the auction and you’re boarding them there.”

      “It seemed simpler to keep them there.” Jeff started back up the rise toward the cabin. The hot afternoon sun beat down on his T-shirt-covered back, and his leg was tired from his long day. “The past year was rough on Lacey, or she would never have sold off her best quarter horses.”

      Brandon tipped his hat back. “I was sorry to hear about Trevor. Man, he was so young.” Brandon shook his head. “And