Runaway Cowboy. Judy Christenberry

dad had a pony for me to ride and I only rode when he was there to supervise.”

      One of the ladies said, “But didn’t you ever fall off?”

      “Sure. That’s part of riding. Won’t you excuse me?”

      He got up to get seconds on scrambled eggs. An excuse, really. He wanted to get closer to Jessica. As he passed her, he said softly, “Good morning.”

      He got a response but not a smile. Too bad.

      He lingered over coffee. Activities didn’t start until eight or nine o’clock, depending on what people chose. Several of the guests sat and visited with him, telling him about things they’d done on the ranch.

      When Alice and Miranda came down, he asked them how they were feeling.

      “A little sore, but not too bad, after we soaked in Jessica’s secret potion,” Alice admitted.

      “If you want to get better at riding, it would be good to go again today, only not for so long. Either Jessica or I could give you both private lessons.”

      “Oh, that would be wonderful. What time?”

      “How about two?”

      “Thank you. We’d love it.”

      “Good. What are your plans for this morning?”

      Miranda gave a small smile. “We signed up to go shopping in Steamboat Springs. We thought that would be more fun than horseback riding.”

      Jim laughed. “You might be right. Is anyone going with you today?”

      “Oh, we don’t need someone to take us. We’re experts at shopping.”

      Jim laughed and got up and went to Leslie’s area to check the schedule Jessica had posted there. It appeared Cliff was to drive the small bus to Steamboat Springs.

      “What’s wrong?” Jessica asked from behind him.

      He turned to look at her. “Nothing. I just wanted to see who was scheduled to drive to Steamboat Springs this morning.”

      “Granddad volunteered. He’s a capable driver.”

      “I’m sure he is. What are you going to do this morning?”

      “One of our maids is sick. I’m filling in for her.”

      “That’s your job, too?”

      “Someone has to do it.”

      “Don’t you have anyone to call?”

      “No. And we can’t afford to hire an extra maid.”

      “Okay.” He pushed his sleeves up. “Do you need some help?”

      “You? I can’t see you making up beds and emptying trash cans.”

      “Why not?”

      “You just don’t strike me as a housekeeper.”

      “Give me a chance and you’ll find out.”

      She put out her hand. “You’re on.”

      He shook it. “Where do we start?”

      They headed out to the cabins. Jessica walked in front, pushing the supply cart. She was dressed in tight jeans today, and for Jim watching her walk in front of him was a delicious form of torture.

      When they reached the first cabin, they worked side by side on the bed, then the bathroom.

      They repeated the process until they had finished the four cabins.

      “So, what do you think?” Jim asked her on the way back to the main house.

      She turned to him. “It kills me to admit it, but you did a great job. I didn’t expect you to be so efficient. Thank you. I appreciate the help.”

      He smiled. “I like working with you.”

      “Me, too.”

      As they walked, Jim sensed that the hostility he’d felt from her earlier had dissipated. That, at least, was a step in the right direction. Now he just had to get her to like him.

      “What are you going to do now?” he asked when they reached the house.

      “I need to put some more time in on the menu for next week.”

      “You won’t serve the same menu every week?”

      “Some things, maybe, but we want some variety. Mary Jo has a good repertoire.”

      “I’ve certainly been impressed so far.”

      “Told you she’s good.”

      “Do you always serve dessert?”

      “Yes. I believe a well-fed guest is a happy guest.”

      “Good plan.”

      “Do you want to join us?”

      Her invitation was like music to his ears.

      Mary Jo was waiting when they got to the kitchen. When she noticed Jim she gave him a smile. “Are you going to supervise?”

      “I think I’ll do more listening, since food isn’t my area of expertise—except to eat it.”

      Mary Jo laughed. “It’s always good to have an extra ear,” she said agreeably.

      Jessica wasted no time launching into the ideas she had for the next week. For some reason it bothered her that Mary Jo and Jim seemed so friendly. But she didn’t want to analyze why.

      After a few more minutes Jim stood up. “Sounds like you’ve got this taken care of. Now I need to talk to Jessica, if you can excuse us, Mary Jo.”

      “Sure.”

      Jessica sent him a worried look. “What do we need to talk about?”

      He led her out of the kitchen. “Nothing that serious. I promised Alice and Miranda private riding lessons this afternoon at two. Is that okay with you?”

      “Yes, if you want to do that. I certainly don’t have you scheduled for anything.”

      “No, I meant both of us.”

      Jessica gave him a blank look. “What?”

      “I said we would both give them a lesson. That way we could take them out for an easy ride. I think they’d like that.”

      “I—I guess so, if you promised them.”

      “I think it’ll be great. Two o’clock, okay?”

      “All right.”

      “So what are you going to do now?”

      “I thought I’d go see how the children’s roping lessons were going.”

      “I’ll go along with you. I’d like to see that class.”

      “Do you think we should both be in the same place? I mean, aren’t we supposed to spread out?”

      “We will sometimes, but I think this first week in particular it will be all right.”

      “Fine. The roping lessons for the kids are out in the pasture near the corral. We can watch from the top of the corral.”

      “Great.”

      They walked out the back door and around the corral until they were on the side that looked out on the roping lessons.

      They climbed up on the fence and sat on the top row.

      Jim watched as Mitch, the cowboy, taught the five boys and one girl the techniques of roping. Then they each tried to rope the fake calf, while two others pushed it around.

      “He’s good with kids,” Jim observed.

      “Yes. They’re