Wife For Hire. Amy J. Fetzer

      Hayley looked thoughtful. “I think this should be a group decision.”

      They were off the sofa in less time than it took to take a breath, following her like mice to cheese.

      “That your new wife, boss?”

      Nash didn’t respond to the ranch hand’s comment and continued walking toward the barn, yanking his gloves from his back pocket.

      “I thought mail-order brides went out in the nineteenth century,” Seth snickered.

      “Y’all must have your work done if you’re sitting on your butts, right?” Nash said, pulling on the gloves.

      Young Beau hopped off the back of the truck and hefted another hay bale onto the bed.

      Nash paused long enough to issue orders before he strode into the breeding barn. The Thoroughbred auction was a week away, and his stock had better be in prime condition to sell. Briefly he checked on a mare about to foal, thinking how this addition was going to help stock his lands with good Thoroughbreds. Anyone for miles around this country knew it wasn’t the horses a breeder had, but the land they had to graze and raise them. This land had been under the guardianship of a Rayburn since before the American Revolution, and Nash had always felt there were generations of his ancestors staring down at him the day he took over the reins. He had a reputation and tradition to maintain, but with the girls growing and needing more of him, it was getting harder to divide his time and do the things he needed to make their life better.

      Nash muttered a curse and knew he was just avoiding any thoughts of Hayley. She still made him breathe hard, and he knew he hadn’t been very congenial to her. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his emotions around her. She stirred up every memory he’d suppressed since he’d broken up with her—and married Michelle.

      Walking into the stall of the horse he usually rode, Nash saddled the animal. Then he paused with his hand on the pommel. He couldn’t tell Hayley the truth, even if it was to ease the old hurt she tried to deny she felt. It would just make the entire situation worse. Mounting his horse, he rode around the rim of the paddock before leaping the fence and taking off across the pasture, trying hard not to think that the one woman he’d wanted in his house was now there. Or that his first honest, totally masculine reaction when he saw her was to wonder whether she still looked as good naked as she did fully clothed.

      Hayley hefted the picnic basket, walking down the long stone-scattered driveway and heading off on the side road, under the drape of willow and sweet-gum trees, to the barns. Beside her, Kim and Kate each carried a big thermos and struggled to keep up. She veered in the direction of voices. Male voices. When she rounded the edge of the barn, she gave a shrill whistle, bringing heads around.

      “Hey, fellas,” she called, holding up the basket. “Hungry?”

      Six men dropped their pitchforks, lashed leads to posts or set shovels aside and came to her like foxes after bunnies as she set the basket on the tailgate of the truck and opened the lid. She introduced herself and each ranch hand tipped his hat a fraction and nodded cordially. Jimmy Lee was long and lanky with a big smile and deeply tanned skin. He had an intense stare and wasn’t above having a look-see of her from head to foot, until Beau nudged him. Beau was young, just out of high school, she imagined, and blushed went she shook his hand. There was Ronnie, about forty, with hair too long for his age and tied back in a ponytail, his straw cowboy hat crimped to fit his head just so. He didn’t talk and just eyeballed her, accepting a cup of cold water. Then there was Bubba.

      “Just what name does Bubba replace?” she asked the older man, gray-haired with weathered features and a sweat-dampened dark T-shirt.

      “Robert. Bob.”

      Hayley decided Robert fit him better, despite the muscled chest, John Deere hat and overalls. Seth moved closer, lifting Kate and Kim onto the tailgate and peering into the basket.

      “Miss Hayley made sandwiches, Mr. Seth. Big hulking ones,” Kate said, glancing at Hayley.

      She winked, then motioned to the twins with a stack of paper cups to pour some water for the men first. “I’ve got roast beef, ham and cheese, turkey and plenty of everything.” Hayley fluffed out a tablecloth, then hitched her rear on the tailgate to lay out the meal with chips and fruit. “There’s coffee for you, Ronnie,” she said. “Kim mentioned you favored it, even in this heat.”

      “Yes, ma’am, I do.” He took the thermos and poured a steaming cup.

      Hayley felt perspiration trickle down her spine at just the thought of drinking it right now.

      She served up a plateful for each of the men, then pulled out the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches the girls had requested. Sitting atop hay bales in the truck, Kim and Kate were in heaven over the outdoor break. As she munched, Hayley studied the house. It was a massive structure in the low-country, two-story style, with a porch that wrapped completely around it. And this one, she’d discovered while vacuuming earlier, went on forever. There were six bedrooms in the place, and there was also a guest cottage out back near the pool. Beyond the two huge barns was a bunkhouse. The whole place was beautiful, and Hayley relaxed just looking at it. River Willow. She’d forgotten the name over the years, but as with Nash, that was all she’d forgotten.

      The distant sound of hoofbeats came to Hayley, and she glanced around just as Nash came riding over the hill from the west side of the house. The girls waved and he waved back. He paused on the hill, shadowed beneath a tall willow tree, and her heart did a strange leap in her chest. That was just too much man for one body, she thought. He looked magnificent, exuding strength and masculine power, and for an instant, the image of a man, a hundred years ago in a billowy white shirt and knee breeches, flooded her mind. Old family, a Southern gentleman, even if he’d grown sharp around the edges. He met her gaze, and even at this distance she could feel it glide over her skin, pause where it shouldn’t, yet flattering her that it did.

      He still turns me inside out, she thought.

      His horse pranced delicately before he bolted toward the barns. Hayley turned back to the truck, resisting the urge to fan herself. The girls wadded up the sandwich wrappers and tossed them in the basket. She sent them off to collect the trash from the men as she packed up. When she looked up again, Nash was a few yards away. But she’d heard him, felt her pulse quicken when she knew he was riding closer. It was disgusting, this chaos she felt around him still.

      “What are you doing out here?” He slid from the horse’s back and stormed toward her.

      If he thought she’d run for cover, he was wrong. She had to stick with this, finish this job. And nothing, not even his intimidating glare, was going to make her back down. “Y’all need to stiffen up a bit.” She gestured to the ranch hands and Nash. “You’re just too loose and happy-go-lucky. I’m surprised you get a lick of work done.” The hands snickered, moving quickly off, and Nash stopped, his blue eyes narrowing.

      “Does it hurt?” she asked.

      He looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Does what hurt?”

      “To smile.”

      Disarmed, his lips twitched. Behind her, the twins giggled.

      “Guess not.” Nash wondered now why he was so angry. Was it that his ranch hands were flirting with her, or was it that she was simply here, winning everyone over but him?

      “Thanks a heap, Miss Hayley,” Jimmy Lee said as he sauntered back, handing her his cup and letting his gaze slide up and down long enough to make her blush.

      “You’re a rascal, Jim.”

      Nash gritted his teeth at the smile she gave the man.

      “That’s what my mama keeps saying.” He walked away and Hayley flipped open the basket and held out a sandwich to Nash. “Would you like one?”

      He looked between her and the sandwich.

      “This doesn’t take a lot of brain power, Nash. A simple yes or no will do.”