Rodeo Rancher

“Is it real?” Lily asked.

Sammy returned her attention to the girl. “Is what real?”

“Your hair,” she whispered, clutching a doll to her chest by its mass of tangled hair.

Sammy laughed and squatted on her heels, beckoning to her. “You tell me. Does it feel real?”

Lily approached shyly and patted Sammy’s hair, then jerked her hand away as though stung.

“What? Is it bad? I’ll bet it’s a real mess. We’ve been on the road for days.” She was babbling again because Michael stared a hole through her. Cripes, she was just trying to make his daughter comfortable.

“It’s soft.” Lily put a couple of fingers into her mouth and spoke around them. “Pretty.”

“You think so? Winter static is not a woman’s friend.” She fingered the neckline of her sweater. “Watch this!”

Pulling the neck of her sweater up over the side of her head, she rubbed her hair with it.

She heard the rancher gasp. Oh, dear. What had she done wrong now? It was all good fun.

When she pulled her sweater back down, her hair stood on end on that side of her head. Her blond, almost white, hair was fine. Unless she used a lot of product, it tended to be wayward. In this dry Montana cold, it just wanted to float everywhere.

She hadn’t bothered styling it lately. They were on the road driving to Travis’s. Who on earth did she need to impress with perfect hair and makeup? No one.

In Vegas, she’d had to dress to the nines to impress her boss and his clientele. Not here.

Lily dissolved into the sweetest bundle of giggles, and Sammy laughed with her.

“Not so pretty now, is it?”

“No!” the child shouted, her straight little baby teeth gleaming.

She ran to her father, dragging her doll by the hair, and raised her arms to be picked up. He lifted her as though she weighed a couple of ounces. Lily whispered in his ear.

“Good, honey,” he murmured back.

Whatever she’d said mellowed him. A bit. Sammy liked the way he held his daughter.

“We need to get you settled in.” He glanced out the window. “You won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

“Dad, where are they going to sleep?” Mick asked.

His father sighed and seemed to weigh options.

“We have a spare bedroom,” he said, “Trouble is I’ve been using it to store junk and overflow. Sometimes, the kids play in there to keep the living room clear of toys.”

Samantha waited, not sure where this was going. Did he want them all to sleep on the sofa? That would be fine.

After coming to a decision, he said, “How about all of you take my bedroom? It has a king-size bed, so there’s room for everyone.”

Sammy had to be sure she was putting out this family as little as possible. Jason had been right to call her to task for barging into the house without invitation. She had an impulsive nature she seemed to spend most of her life curbing.

“I couldn’t possibly put you out of your room.” She cast her gaze about wildly. “How about if the boys share the sofa and I can camp out on the floor?”

“No. The three of you will take my bedroom.”

“But where will you sleep?”

“There’s a spare bed in Lily’s room.”

Lily popped her fingers out of her mouth. “Daddy, no! You snore.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Lily nodded so hard her hair flopped about. “Is bad, Daddy.”

He chewed on his lip. “I guess I could put all of you in Mick’s room and he could bunk with me in mine.”

“No, Dad!” Mick yelled. “Sometimes I can hear you even from my room. I won’t be able to sleep!”

His cheeks turned red. “If I wake you up, I’ll come out here to the sofa.”

“Da-a-ad. No.” Mick looked miserable.

Clearly frustrated, Michael said, “Back to the original plan. You’ll all take my bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I can’t let you sleep on the sofa while I take your bed.” It just didn’t sit right with Samantha.

“You sure like to argue.”

“I do not!”

A smile kicked up the corners of his lips. Okay, so maybe he had a sense of humor.

“Thank you,” she conceded. “We would appreciate it.”

The girl whispered something in her father’s ear.

“Lily wants to know,” he said, “if she can show you her bedroom.”

Samantha felt herself light up like a birthday cake. She loved her boys fiercely, but she had always wanted a little girl. “I’d love that.”

In Lily’s room, Sammy managed to keep her distance from Michael. Despite his rough-edged, stoic manner, she found him attractive.

Of all of the men who’d made passes at her in hotels, motels and gas stations on the drive out here, why did she have to feel a frisson of desire for this grumpy old man?

Old was maybe unfair. He wasn’t much over forty, but he seemed older, as though he’d started to give up.

The mauve bedroom had twin beds, both covered with duvets in shades of pink and ivory. Someone had decorated the girl’s room with love. Only one of the beds was made, and it was covered with piles of clothing.