The Renegade Cowboy Returns. Tina Leonard

still feeling goose bumps tighten her skin.

      “No worries,” he said. “I’m heading off now to do my errands in town. You going to be all right?”

      She wasn’t. She glanced around, wondering if the snake had any friends that might be nesting in the wet towel she’d dropped. “You know we don’t like snakes in Ireland,” she said. “Saint Patrick ran them off for us.”

      There was a moment of silence before Gage walked toward the creek. He fished her towel from the water and held out his hand. “I’m no saint.”

      She looked at him, not accepting the hand he extended. “I know that.”

      He shrugged. “Come on, Red. I’ll walk you back to the house.”

      She didn’t need a second invitation. Taking his hand—he felt strong and substantial, thank God, because she needed something strong right now—she let him drag her from the creek. He kept his eyes steadily averted from her, and she was out of the water and away from her snake nemesis in a blink. While Gage pinned her raft between two scraggly trees so it wouldn’t blow away, she hurriedly wrapped herself in her towel, unable to stop shivering. She couldn’t shake her fear that another snake might be nearby. Still, Gage didn’t look her way. Didn’t every man want a glimpse of a woman in a bikini?

      He didn’t seem to. His posture was stiff, fixed in a deliberate stance of avoidance. Chelsea remembered that she’d told him to stay out of her sight, and he was clearly trying to obey her not-very-nice demand.

      She swallowed, letting go some of her pride. “I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of a witch to you.”

      He finally glanced at her. “It doesn’t seem so bad with that sweet accent you’ve got.”

      Was that a compliment? “Really?”

      “No.” Gage laughed and started walking. “Getting blessed out by a woman is no fun in any language or accent.”

      She scampered after him, not thrilled to be left behind with a dead snake. “Maybe we could start over.”

      “No need.”

      Okay. She wasn’t going to beg him to accept her apology. They walked in silence back to the farmhouse. He went to his truck, and Chelsea went in the house, pulling off the dripping beach towel.

      And that’s when she realized she’d gotten out of the creek without her bikini top.

      She shrieked, this time with rage and embarrassment. The sound of male laughter came through the open screen door before Gage’s truck started up and drove away.

      And he called the Callahans pranksters!

      Chapter Two

      When Gage ran into Jonas Callahan in Tempest’s town square, he was ready to let all his annoyance fall on his employer’s head. “Jonas, you ornery son of a gun,” he began, stopping when Jonas held up a hand.

      “You can thank me later,” Jonas said. “I can’t chitchat now. I need to go over last-minute plans with an architect. I think I’m going to knock the farmhouse down and start over. It’s just much too small.”

      Gage’s jaw tightened. “Knock it down? It’s the only livable place at Dark Diablo.”

      “True,” Jonas agreed. “I wouldn’t do it until after the summer is over. Cat will have gone back to school by then, is how I figure it. Chelsea will have finished her Great Novel, and you can park your boots in the bunkhouse.”

      The bunkhouse was, as Chelsea had noted, pretty old and not really inhabitable, even for someone who was as used to roughing it as he was. “This is almost the end of June, Jonas. What if I can’t get the bunkhouse and the barn renovated that fast?”

      Jonas glanced at him. “My brothers and I can come over and crew for you if you need us.”

      “I’ll know soon enough, I guess.” Gage wasn’t certain how to take this change of plans. “Why did I think the job was for about six months?”

      “It is,” Jonas said, surprised, “unless you finish sooner or get sick of it. Do you have a problem with sleeping in a bunkhouse?”

      Gage shook his head, not bothering to point out that the roof had holes in it the size of owls. He could get those patched up in the next month. He could get a lot done—if he didn’t have Cat to entertain. Secretly, he wasn’t certain what to do with a daughter he didn’t know that well. He’d met her only once, and he’d been nervous as hell.

      The only good thing about having Chelsea and her mom on the property was that maybe they’d provide a buffer.

      “Frankly, I’m scared shi—”

      “Well, don’t worry,” Jonas said, his tone jovial as he pushed his hat down a little more comfortably on his head. “So, what’d you think of Chelsea?”

      What did he think of Chelsea? Now, that was a loaded question. Gage sent his friend a suspicious glance, keeping his face unreadable. She was beautiful, for one. She had a helluva rack on her, and seeing her bare and not reacting had taken all of his self-control. Taut nipples, sweet breasts—he broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with the hot New Mexico sun. “Last I saw her, she was pretty upset about a little friend that was visiting. I’m hoping she’ll calm down before I get back.”

      Jonas looked up from staring at his phone, his attention finally caught. “What kind of friend?”

      “A snake friend. Just a small one, maybe a foot long. Nothing to get excited about. Be seeing you, Jonas.” Gage nodded and went down the sidewalk toward the lumber store, not feeling any more need to socialize. Reading Jonas the riot act about sticking him with a red-haired, sexy female wasn’t going to do anything but give his friend fodder for tales around the dinner table. He knew the Callahans too well.

      I can take it, Gage thought. He just wasn’t certain he could take Chelsea and Cat and Ma all under one roof, when he didn’t know any of them at all.

      * * *

      “JONAS!” CHELSEA EXCLAIMED when her one-time fiancé banged on the front door. “Get in here so I can bawl you out like you’ve never been bawled out before!”

      He came in, looking a bit wary, wearing a smile to placate her. She was not placated.

      “Why didn’t you tell me there was going to be someone else living here?” she began hotly.

      “Everything happened quickly,” Jonas said. “Both of you are making way too big a deal of this. Pretend like this farmhouse is a bed-and-breakfast. Would you care who the other boarders were?”

      “No,” Chelsea said, clenching her teeth, “at least not until one of them shot a gun near my feet, I wouldn’t.”

      “Gun?” Jonas perked up. “Gage wouldn’t fire a gun near you, Chelsea.”

      “Well, he did.” She wasn’t about to share the whole bikini topless incident.

      “Had to have had a good reason.”

      Jonas’s eyes began to twinkle, and she knew from experience that he was vastly amused and couldn’t wait to hear the whole story, which would be retold later to his brothers and their wives with great gusto.

      “Were you being mean to him, Chelsea?” Jonas asked, his tone rich with teasing.

      “No, Jonas, I wasn’t.” He was referring to her Irish temper, knowing full well she wasn’t really mean to anybody.

      But she did have a temper.

      Which she didn’t intend to rein in now.

      “Did this have anything to do with a critter you didn’t want around?”

      “I am quite certain, Jonas, that Gage has told you everything, if you know about the critter. I’m sure he couldn’t wait