Jared's Texas Homecoming

Dana walked through the back door of the house. She couldn’t believe she had flirted with Jared Trager. And worse, she knew better. There was danger written all over the man, from his slow, easy saunter to his sexy grin. Besides, he had a home in Las Vegas. And probably a woman waiting for him.

As her father used to say, drifters come and go as fast as the seasons. If only she’d heeded those words when she’d met Marshall Hastings.

At twenty-three, Dana had had yet to experience love…until she’d met Marsh. A good-looking stranger who had come to the ranch, asking for directions. He gave her the attention she craved, but in the end he took off. Marsh hadn’t cared that he’d taken her innocence. But he’d left her a gift. Evan. Because of her son she would never regret what had happened between them.

Now, at twenty-eight, Dana had given up on finding what her parents had. Although their time together had been short, Kathryn and Drew Shayne had truly loved each other. But their daughter would never risk her heart again. Dana never wanted to feel that kind of pain for the second time.

If she ever got married, she was definitely going to play it safe. Look for a nice, safe guy…like Hal Parks. The local deputy sheriff was nice enough, not bad-looking, either. She’d known him all her life. He still came around to the ranch and it was easy to see that, with some encouragement, the shy deputy might ask her out. Was that what she wanted?

Maybe. She had Evan to think about. He was getting older, and he needed a father figure. Hal liked kids, even coached Little League.

“If there were just a few sparks,” she murmured, wishing she could get up some enthusiasm.

A warm shiver slid down her spine as her attention turned to her new ranch hand. Jared Trager sent off sparks with just a look from those bedroom eyes. What would his touch be like?

“Stop it,” she chided herself, shutting off lights as she walked through the quiet house. On the stairs, not wanting to wake Evan, Dana skipped the fifth step to avoid the squeaky loose board.

Once in her bedroom, she closed the door and turned on the lamp on the night table. A soft glow illuminated the room she’d slept in all her life. It was still painted a light pink, but she had exchanged the twin bed for a double. After her father’s death, she hadn’t seen any reason to move into the master suite.

She went to the window and glanced down at the barn. Everything looked peaceful. Just the way she liked it. But for how long? How long could she hold on? How long would this ranch belong to a Shayne? The place was mortgaged and the payment was due soon.

A mortgage that her father had taken out when his only child had developed complications in her pregnancy and had delivered his grandson, Evan Andrew, six weeks early. At less than four pounds, her infant son had had to remain in the hospital for weeks. That had cost money, a lot of money.

When she’d told him of her pregnancy, not once had her father complained or lectured her. He’d never judged her when she said that her baby’s father was not in the picture. And from the day she’d brought Evan home from the hospital, he’d loved the boy.

Now, it was just her and Evan. And as a legacy to her father and her son, she couldn’t lose the Lazy S. She might not know what the future of the ranch would be, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. She would do whatever it took.

The next morning, Dana was putting breakfast on the table when Bert walked in the back door, Jared behind him. His chambray shirt and jeans looked as if they’d already seen plenty of work and it was only 7:00 a.m. If Bert had had anything to do about it, they’d been up well before the sun.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Dana said as she tore her gaze away from her good-looking new employee. “Have a seat.”

“Yeah, Mom made biscuits and her special gravy,” Evan said from his chair at the kitchen table.

Bert hung his hat by the door. Jared also placed a hat on the hook next to the foreman’s. She recognized the familiar battered straw that always hung in the barn. So her new ranch hand didn’t even own a cowboy hat.

“Is it someone’s birthday?” Bert asked as he walked to the table.

“I just felt like making biscuits and gravy,” Dana replied, a little too quickly. “Of course, I’m not going to force you to eat them.”

Bert grinned as he raised his arthritic hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m pleased as a calf in clover. Just surprised.” The older man glanced at Jared. “This girl here is the best cook around these parts.” He patted his rounded stomach. “I should know—been eating it for years. That alone should be enough pay to work here.”

Dana returned to the table with a plate of eggs and a basket of her butter biscuits. “Yeah, too bad that isn’t true. If it were, I’d have ranch hands lined up outside my door.”

“Mom, I’ll work for you,” Evan volunteered as he reached for a biscuit.

She ruffled her son’s dark head. “Thanks, but I’d be happy for you to pick up your room and give me a few kisses.”

He puckered up and Dana leaned down and took his offering. “Bert and Jared need to give you a kiss, too.”

Dana fought the heat flaming in her cheeks. She lost. “Oh, I’m pretty stingy with my kisses. I save them for my best guy. You.” She tickled his ribs, making him giggle.

Jared sat back and watched the exchange between mother and son. Marsh would be happy to see how good they were together. Once again he reminded himself he should leave. It had been a lot of years since he’d worked on a ranch. Just that short time right after he’d left Graham Hastings’s house some dozen years ago. He smiled to himself, recalling another time when he and Marsh were twelve and thirteen and attended a summer ranch camp for wannabe cowboys.

Maybe he’d just finish the week, then go and stay in town until his truck was repaired. While he was here he could replace some of the stall gates in the barn. How long could that take? He knew that Bert was limited to the amount of work he could do. Just feeding stock and keeping the fences repaired and upright was a full-time job.

That’s what they’d been doing since five this morning when Bert had come to get him. Having had a restless night he’d already been awake. He’d been thinking about Dana, and the direction of his thoughts were dangerous. That’s the reason he needed to finish this job and get going. His pretty boss was trouble.

“What ya doin’?” Evan asked.

Jared stopped his hammering and turned to find the boy standing behind him in the wide concrete aisle inside the barn.

“I’m fixing Sammy’s stall. Some of the boards rotted out and I thought I’d replace them. You don’t want your pony to get hurt, do you?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I love Sammy.” He glanced around the barn. “Where’s my pony?”

“I took him outside so the noise wouldn’t scare him.”

Evan gave the situation some thought. “Do you have a horse?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you want one?”

He pulled another rusted nail from the rotted wood. “I probably did when I was your age.”

“Do you know how to ride?”

Jared bit back a smile at the artillery of questions. “Probably not as good as you, but I manage.”

“I bet Mom will let you ride Scout. He’s gentle and doesn’t bite or kick.”

“That’s good to know in case, but I’m busy for a while repairing the stall.” Jared replaced his hammer in his tool belt.

“Wow, what’s that?”

“My tool belt.” Jared crouched down to show the boy his different tools and the pouches for nails and screws.

“That’s cool.”

“I’m a carpenter. I need to have a lot of different tools so I can do my work.”

“Can I help you? I know how to use a hammer. Bert showed me one time.”

Jared scratched his head as if thinking about it. “I guess I could use a helper. Maybe you can hand me nails and tools.”

The boy’s dark eyes lit up. “Really?”

“As long as it’s okay with your mother.”