Rescuing the Texan's Heart. Mindy Obenhaus

Taryn, all grown up.”

      Everyone standing in front of her parted like the Red Sea, adding to her mortification.

      Repeatedly stroking Scout’s wiry fur, she fought the urge to run screaming from the room as all eyes shifted to her. Including Cash’s.

      His knee-buckling smile made it impossible to move, though. “Yes, we met earlier.”

      Heat singed her cheeks, a rare occurrence for someone with her olive complexion. Still, she would bet that her cheeks were as red as the cherry jelly beans she’d bought to give to her nieces and nephew on Valentine’s Day.

      “Oh...?” Interest sparked in her mother’s eyes. No way the woman with a penchant for matchmaking was letting that one sail by unnoticed.

      “She brought some desserts over for Gramps. Which—” his attention shifted back to Taryn “—were really good.”

      Mr. Jenkins cleared his throat. “Speaking of food, it sure smells good in here.” He shot Taryn a stealthy wink. At least someone had her back.

      “Taryn makes the best stew you’ve ever tasted,” her mom boasted. “And her rolls are positively to die for.”

      “Wait till you see the table decorations.” Desperate to shift the spotlight to someone else, Taryn continued, “Mom really outdid herself.”

      Her mother half-heartedly waved off the compliment. “Oh, I just threw a few odds and ends together, that’s all.” Her gaze flitted to the dining room on the other side of the foyer. “But it did turn out quite nice.”

      “Sounds like the Purcell women are a talented lot.” Cash’s gaze settled on Taryn, sending another wave of heat surging up her neck.

      Unfortunately, she had not inherited her mother’s flair for decorating. She could probably manage a decent grouping of candles, but her mom knew how to make things look perfect.

      “You simply find a way to cover up the flaws,” she always said.

      Nuzzling a squirming Scout, Taryn thought about all the flaws in her life. The ones she’d worked so hard to cover up since returning to Ouray. Perhaps she was more like her mother than she thought. She had more scrapes and scars than the old hutch that was the focal point of Mom’s new kitchen.

      She set the wiggling pup on the floor, wishing she, too, could escape.

      “Phil, why don’t you take their coats while I get our guests something to drink.” Her mother’s attention shifted between Cash and his grandfather. “How about some hot spiced cider?”

      “Cider sounds great, Mrs. Purcell.”

      “There’s no need to be so formal, Cash. Call me Bonnie.”

      “A hot drink would be just dandy.” Mr. Jenkins handed his jacket to her dad.

      Six-year-old Cassidy caught her grandmother by the arm. “Nana, can you help me find the checkers so I can play with Mr. Jenkins?”

      Her mom cupped Cassidy’s chin. “You bet, punkin’.”

      Watching the tender exchange, Taryn couldn’t help wondering if her mom would have accepted—

      She shook her head. No, her mother had made it perfectly clear.

      No daughter of mine will have a child out of wedlock. If you ever do that to me, I’ll disown you.

      Taryn understood, though. After all, her mother grew up as the illegitimate child of a scarlet woman. The last thing she wanted was to be the talk of the town.

      “Taryn, honey—” her mother’s voice jerked her from her thoughts “—would you be a dear and get those refreshments while I help Cassidy?”

      What? And hide from inquiring minds?

      “Two ciders coming up.” The aroma of fresh-baked rolls made her stomach growl as she drew closer to the kitchen. She washed her hands then grabbed two mugs from the refurbished hutch, recalling how decrepit and unsightly the piece had been when her mother found it on somebody’s curb. Actually, it wasn’t even a hutch. More like someone’s old pie safe. But with some new glass and a couple coats of red paint...

      Yep, Bonnie Purcell knew how to dress things up, no matter how battered and beyond help they seemed to the untrained eye.

      But Taryn wasn’t a piece of furniture. She clutched the mugs to her chest and crossed the kitchen. If her mother ever learned the ugly truth of Taryn’s time in Texas, she’d be deemed unsalvageable. Which is why no one could ever know.

      Lifting the lid on the pot of mulled cider, she savored the scent of cinnamon and cloves before ladling the steaming drink into the mugs.

      “It smells great in here.” At the sound of Cash’s voice, she jumped, sending the metal ladle crashing to the floor. “Whoa. Hey. I’m sorry.” He knelt beside her to retrieve the utensil. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

      She set the lid back into place, determined to regain her wits before looking at him. Though the woodsy scent of his cologne wasn’t doing much to help.

      “I’m all right.” Retrieving the dish towel from the counter beside the stove, she wiped a drip from the first cup before handing it to him. “And if anyone needs to say they’re sorry, it’s me.” She took the ladle from him and dared to meet his puzzled gaze.

      “You? Why?”

      “I wasn’t the friendliest person earlier today.” She glanced past him to make sure no one else was coming. In particular, her mother, who would, no doubt, misconstrue their being alone in the same room.

      “Taryn, I’ve met plenty of unfriendly people in my time and you are not one of them. A little flustered maybe.”

      Flustered? He thought she was flustered?

      “That’s what I get for teasing you, I suppose.”

      “Teasing?” She dropped the towel on the counter, rinsed the ladle in the sink.

      “About you following me and Randy around.” He sipped his drink. “Mmm. This ought to warm me up. It’s freezing out there.”

      Her brain quickly retraced their earlier conversation.

      How stupid could she be?

      She set the ladle beside the stove. Of course Cash was teasing her. Just like he used to do when she was a kid. Just like her brothers still do. She’d just been so tuned in to what she interpreted as smarmy to realize the difference.

      And now that she did, she wasn’t sure which was worse. The smooth-talking Cash or the Cash that still thought of her as a child.

       Chapter Three

      When the kids announced that it was snowing, Cash wanted to push away from Bonnie’s dining room table and hurry outside to enjoy the sight. After all, in Dallas, snow rarely lasted more than a few minutes. Good thing he remembered he was a grown-up, though. Otherwise, his hosts might have thought him a little crazy.

      Nonetheless, he was pleased to see the white flakes still falling in the darkness when he and Gramps bid the Purcells farewell.

      “Phil and Bonnie have done an impressive job of restoring that old home.” Cash glanced back at the gray Victorian. “That has to be some of the finest, most intricate millwork I’ve ever seen.”

      “They done good, all right.” Despite the short walk, Gramps tugged on his nubby stocking cap and gloves. “Bonnie loves that sort of stuff.” He nudged Cash with his elbow. “I see you quit picking the celery out of your stew.”

      Cash couldn’t help laughing. “It took me a while, but I finally got used to it. Just don’t expect me to eat it raw.”

      “So noted.” The old man patted his now-protruding belly. “Yes,