Raising The Rancher's Family

Holt directed his light toward the floor, showing dusty evidence of past parties.

“Typical teenagers, they never pick up after themselves,” he said.

“We should report this to the sheriff so he can notify the owner to seal the entrance.”

“Do you really think that will keep out curious kids?”

Leah ignored Holt’s sarcasm. While he examined the main room, she started off toward one of the tunnels, praying she wouldn’t find any traces of the boy living here. She ducked through the entry to the tunnel framed by huge wooden support beams. There were old mining tools and stacks of rotten lumber. Just as she walked around the beams, a rat scurried across her path. She gasped and jumped backward tripping over the rotting wood. Unable to regain her balance, she hit the dirt floor as the stack began shifting.

Dust stirred the air and Holt rushed to her side. He swept her up in his arms and carried her out into the main room. Setting her down against the entrance, his large body shielded her from any falling debris. Finally silence filled the air, but he didn’t release her. She was trembling, feeling Holt’s breath against her ear, his large body against hers.

He looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

She managed to nod.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.” He took her hand and drew her outside.

Once in the bright sunlight, he held her at arm’s length and did a closer examination. “Do you realize what could have happened to you?”

She was still trembling. “Yes, but I’m okay. Thank you.”

That seemed to make him angry. “I don’t want your thanks. You could have been seriously hurt or…or…” He turned away, jerked his hat off and combed his hand through his hair. “Dammit, Leah.”

Now she was angry with herself. “I know. I shouldn’t have gone into the tunnel. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to find the boy.”

“Are you this reckless as a photographer?”

He didn’t know the half of it. “They hire me to do my job,” she insisted. She started down the slope when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. They stood inches apart.

“I’m not taking another step until you promise me not to do anything that crazy again.”

The last thing she wanted to do was kowtow to this man, but after he’d rescued her, she owed him one. “Okay, but you need to accept that I mean to find that boy.” She glanced up at the sky as the sun suddenly was shadowed by threatening clouds. “We should hurry because we’re running out of time.” She started down to the horses.

“We’re finished for today.”

She stopped to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Then I’ll go myself.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “After what happened in the mine shaft, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Twenty minutes later they rode back to the ranch, but not before the sky opened up and soaked them before they got into the barn.

The rain pounded against the roof as Leah took Daisy to her stall and began removing her tack. She placed the mare’s saddle on the railing, then started wiping down the animal. Once her horse was settled, Leah went to put the saddle away.

“Let me get that,” Holt said as he came up behind her.

“I can manage.” She glanced at him. He removed his hat and for the first time she got a good look at his handsome face. His sandy-colored hair was wavy and fell against his forehead, and his startling green eyes were framed by long dark lashes. “I…I know where everything goes.”

“As do I.” He took the saddle from her and continued down the aisle. She went back for the bridle and blanket and hurried to catch up with him in the tack room.

Leah hung it on the wall. “Well…I guess that’s it.” She turned around to discover Holt watching her. The direction of his heated gaze was on her rain-soaked blouse. At first she resisted the urge to cover herself, but then a clap of thunder shook the barn along with the pounding of the rain. She shivered and crossed her arms over her breasts.

Holt couldn’t help but stare. Even soaking wet Leah Keenan was far too appealing. His protective instincts took over and he reached for a blanket. He went to her and draped it around her shoulders. Then he made a big mistake and looked into her big brown eyes. “I think you should wait out the storm here.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you come up to the house and get out of those wet clothes?”

Her eyes rounded. “I’m fine right here.”

“Don’t look so frightened, I’m not going to attack you.”

She straightened. “I never thought you were. I just didn’t want to put you out.”

“It’s a little late for that,” he said as he took her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Come on, the rain has eased up a little.”

Together they headed for the house. By the time they reached the porch, they were both soaked again. Holt pushed open the back door and let her inside the mudroom.

“We better take off our boots, or Maria will have our heads for tracking up the kitchen.”

“Maria Silva?” Leah looked up from unlacing her boots. “She still works here?”

Holt nodded. “She cleans once a week, and prepares some of the meals.”

“Lucky you. She’s a great cook.”

“I can cook, but after a long day of work, it’s been nice not to have to.” He went into the main part of the house. He grabbed a towel—and the only thing available for her to change into—one of his flannel shirts. He returned to her.

“I don’t own a robe, so this is all I have. While your wet clothes are in the dryer put this on.”

“I don’t need to change.”

“You’re shivering. Do it or Zach will kick my butt for letting you catch cold.”

“Okay.” Leah took the shirt and followed him through the kitchen and down the hall.

He pointed to a closed door. “That’s a bathroom.” “If you want you can take a hot shower.”

Holt climbed the stairs to the second floor of the large ranch house. He definitely didn’t need a hot one, he thought as he went into the master bedroom that once belonged to his father. The large sleigh bed was a dark mahogany covered in a multicolored quilt. The small print wallpaper had faded over the years. A braided rug partly covered the hardwood floor that Maria kept polished to a high gloss.

There weren’t any pictures of family and none of him, even as a boy. Holt tried to push aside the memories of a man who wanted nothing to do with his son. His only child.

There were three other bedrooms on the second floor, but Holt told himself the reason he stayed in this room was because of the connecting bath. He began stripping off his clothes and heard the water go on downstairs. Great, that was all he needed, the image of a naked Leah Keenan in his bathroom. He got in the shower and turned on the faucet to cold.

But ten minutes later, he went downstairs and found Leah in the kitchen. He swallowed hard. She was dressed only in his shirt. Her face was scrubbed clean and the blond hair pooled wet against her shoulders was beginning to curl.

“Hi,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, I fixed some coffee.”

She’d made herself at home. “Sounds good,” he told her. “I take it you know your way around here.”