Mountain Country Cowboy
Glynna Kaye
Second-Chance DaddyWhen he’s offered a job at Hunter’s Hideaway, single dad Cash Herrera immediately accepts. It means the former bad boy can start over and gain custody of his son, Joey. Still, small-town folk have long memories—especially Cash’s pretty childhood nemesis. Rio Hunter is now a lovely, courageous woman…and Cash’s new boss. Past betrayal makes them both wary, and Rio’s secret promise will soon take her away from Hunter Ridge. Yet working with Cash and teaching Joey about her beloved horses draw her closer to both. Can she create a loving family with the man who’s claiming her future?Hearts of Hunter Ridge: Finding true love in Arizona mountain country
Second-Chance Daddy
When he’s offered a job at Hunter’s Hideaway, single dad Cash Herrera immediately accepts. It means the former bad boy can start over and gain custody of his son, Joey. Still, small-town folk have long memories—especially Cash’s pretty childhood nemesis. Rio Hunter is now a lovely, courageous woman...and Cash’s new boss. Past betrayal makes them both wary, and Rio’s secret promise will soon take her away from Hunter Ridge. Yet working with Cash and teaching Joey about her beloved horses draw her closer to both. Can she create a loving family with the man who’s claiming her future?
“We both want to make this transition work.”
Rio slowly nodded, as if not yet convinced. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe we can try it tomorrow, anyway.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Her mouth curved. “Not asking much, are you?”
With a sense of elation that he’d won her over, Cash couldn’t help but share her smile as they openly studied each other, her mind likely teeming with as many questions about their working relationship as filled his. If he guessed right, this spunky lady kept many a man on his toes these days, and not because they were on guard for an ambush as he’d often been in his youth.
Looking down at her, he caught the soft, quick intake of her breath before she abruptly spun away and started down the trail back to the heart of the Hideaway.
“See you at sunrise,” she called over her shoulder with a sassy toss of that ponytail, and he shook his head. This might prove to be a long—and interesting—few months.
Dear Reader (#ubaa52016-73d4-5e85-9f6a-57a7ca39502f),
Thank you for joining me in Arizona mountain country as Cash and Rio journey on a rocky road to a happily ever after!
Cash had struggled through the betrayal of someone he’d loved. Rio, likewise, learned things about herself and the one she’d given her heart to that left her empty. Both are wounded souls. People who, because of past experiences, question their self-worth and are suspicious of the motives of others. They are people who doubt they deserve love and who desperately need to recognize that the love God offers is not “deserved,” not “bargained for,” but a free gift because He loves them unconditionally. Don’t we all need the kind of love only God can give us through his son Jesus Christ?
If, like Rio, you are in a destructive relationship—or know someone who is—seek help or encourage them to seek it. While I don’t have the background, training or connections to personally help you, there are those who do. Churches, campus counselors, law enforcement, community and faith-based shelters. And never forget God loves you!
You can contact me at Love Inspired Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. Or via email at glynna@glynnakaye.com. Please stop by loveinspiredauthors.com (http://www.loveinspiredauthors.com) and Seekerville.blogspot.com (http://Seekerville.blogspot.com)—designated as one of Writer’s Digest magazine’s 101 Best Websites for Writers. We love readers, too!
Glynna Kaye
GLYNNA KAYE treasures memories of growing up in small Midwestern towns—and vacations spent with the Texan side of the family. She traces her love of storytelling to the times a houseful of great-aunts and great-uncles gathered with her grandma to share candid, heartwarming, poignant and often humorous tales of their youth and young adulthood. Glynna now lives in Arizona, where she enjoys gardening, photography and the great outdoors.
Mountain Country Cowboy
Glynna Kaye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares
the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm
you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
—Jeremiah 29:11
For it is by grace you have been saved,
through faith—and this is not from yourselves,
it is the gift of God—not by works,
so that no one can boast.
—Ephesians 2:8–9
To my “Seeker Sisters”
at seekerville.blogspot.com.
Thank you for over a decade of love,
prayers and encouragement.
God did a beautiful thing
when He brought us together.
Mary Connealy
Janet Dean
Debby Giusti
Audra Harders
Ruth Logan Herne
Pam Hillman
Cara Lynn James
Myra Johnson
Sandra Leesmith
Julie Lessman
Tina Radcliffe
Missy Tippens
Contents
Cover (#u1940567d-64dc-593d-884a-8e2f68c16e8b)
Back Cover Text (#u82b7fd61-0212-5e5a-ab6e-02b849d37860)
Introduction (#udd8ec172-734c-5b41-8438-ca12a3fe8139)
Dear Reader (#u45414f60-ddef-501a-933b-b8b6a74cea9f)
About the Author (#u6eadd64a-1618-5754-8a0e-68ae9c5b36ed)
Title Page (#u9c4a9c73-f422-51ec-a93a-7b6b15b52f19)
Bible Verse (#uf6799f52-9139-5269-a592-aa08e22b509d)
Dedication (#ue059879d-30aa-50d8-b035-10c488d9b1f7)
Chapter One (#u7fc76ff6-4219-5674-9065-d0d7b541470e)
Chapter Two (#ucb145326-0a47-5ba0-ae95-f7f2fe1d159d)
Chapter Three (#ubba2a87f-d409-5af6-8f74-a60357cb0f62)
Chapter Four (#u51dbd34b-017c-5df6-a8b0-9c461068bd76)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ubaa52016-73d4-5e85-9f6a-57a7ca39502f)
“Nice try, Grady, but I’m not buying it.”
Riona “Rio” Hunter confidently shook her head as her older brother pulled a weathered suitcase out of her pickup truck and set it in the gravel at her booted feet. She gave him a serenely sweet smile, knowing his idea of welcoming her back to mountain country Arizona after a week’s absence at a spiritual retreat would be to try to get her riled. “Grandma Jo wouldn’t do something like that behind my back.”
And certainly not right when they’d gotten word of a potential opportunity for a much-needed financial boost. Tallington Associates, an events coordinating company, would soon be evaluating the family-run Hunter’s Hideaway that catered to outdoor enthusiasts as a possible recommended site for client gatherings. If all went as hoped, that contractor could be arranging bookings for years to come.
Grady shrugged. “Well, Grandma did do it. Like I said, Cashton Herrera interviewed several days ago, an offer was made and he’ll be back to sign on the dotted line sometime today.”
No way. She stared up at him. Was he telling the truth? Both he and their other brother, Luke, were masters at keeping a straight face when they wanted to. Although Rio had plans to leave the family business later that summer and return to college, Grandma wouldn’t hire someone without consulting her, would she? Rio’s reservation for the out-of-state getaway had been made months ago, and Grandma couldn’t wait one week for her to return?
Narrowing her eyes, she gave Grady a good-humored push. “Liar.”
With a laugh, he reached out to playfully tug on the ponytail draped over her shoulder. “I’m not lying, Rio. It’s a done deal. Ask her. Ask Mom and Dad. Cash arrives today to start as your assistant, then will step into full responsibility when you take off in August.”
He was serious.
Grandma Jo hired a man—who not only had a reputation like that of his father for settling scores with his fists, but had even done jail time for striking a woman—to work with Rio?
“So you’re telling me none of you voiced objections or bothered to call me so I could voice mine?” A pang of betrayal echoed in her heart. Knowing what they did regarding her past—and her intentions for the future—how could they be so insensitive? “You all know how I feel about men who hit.”
They weren’t real men.
Grady frowned, undoubtedly reminded of the distressing events at the conclusion of her freshman year at college. “Cash didn’t try to hide his county jail record on the application form. And you already know Grandma followed up with his references, including a deputy sheriff who’s been mentoring Cash for over three years and who personally doesn’t believe he hit his ex-wife.”
“But a judge and jury did believe it.” With a huff, Rio grabbed the handle of her wheeled suitcase, dragging it toward the porch steps of her parents’ cabin where, at twenty-one, she still resided. But not much longer, God willing.
Grady, swiftly blocking her way, reached down and relieved her of her luggage. “Come on now, calm down. You know Grandma Jo did this because she loves you and wants to give you the opportunity to chase your high-flying dreams.”
He made it sound as if they were a passing fancy with no more substance than a soap bubble. As if she were a cute kitten fruitlessly attempting to pounce on a flitting butterfly and would soon tire and lose interest.
“But why did Grandma have to do interviews while I was out of town? And despite our looking at several promising applications, she picked a man like Cash?” Rio jerked her suitcase away from her brother, suspecting Grandma Jo had her eye on Cash all along and moved swiftly to hire him while her granddaughter was absent.
“He has an impressive background with horses, as well as dude ranch experience. And he aced the interview.”
“But we both know,” she almost growled, “that Grandma has a rescuer complex. She’s big on second chances.”
That’s why she’d hired Cash’s father those many years ago, wasn’t it? And look how that turned out.
Rio abruptly shoved her suitcase back in her brother’s direction. “Here, please take this and my other stuff inside. Tell Mom I won’t be gone long, but I have to talk to Grandma.”
“You’re too late.” He had the nerve to smile. Clearly she’d lost the ally she thought she’d have in Grady.
“We’ll see about that.”
Ignoring his chuckle, she spun on her booted heel and headed for a shortcut through the tall-trunked ponderosa pines leading to the Hideaway’s main complex.
Cashton Herrera, of all people. As a skinny, dark-eyed boy six years her senior, he’d found it amusing to lock her in a utility closet when she was four years old—and that was just the beginning of his mischief at her expense. She was willing to concede that boys could be boys and grow up to be decent men. But jail time, well, that was an entirely different matter.
Up ahead through the trees she glimpsed the adjoining buildings that composed the heart of Hunter Enterprises—Hunter’s Hideaway. A family business for six generations if you included the offspring of her four siblings, Hunter’s Hideaway catered to hunters, horsemen, hikers and others who enjoyed spending time in the great outdoors.
Located not too far outside small-town Hunter Ridge, the property featured an inn, restaurant and general store. Guest cabins were scattered throughout a vast acreage that abutted National Forest Service property, and it was here that in addition to clerking, waiting tables and cleaning guest rooms, Rio managed seasonal trail and hay rides with assistance from a cousin and summer hires. But her cousin J.C., who she’d been counting on to take over for her when she headed back to college, had dashed off to chase his own rainbows.
So she was stuck here unless Cash proved capable of taking over her responsibilities. But even if he had the know-how to run the operation, how could she leave a man like him totally in charge? Hot tempers and ready fists wouldn’t mix well with horses, guests or staff. Knowing how she’d feel about the new hire, was this a ploy on Grandma’s part to keep her granddaughter from leaving?
As she stepped out from under the thick canopy of pine branches into a cloudless midmorning of the third week in May, she glimpsed a county sheriff’s department SUV off to the side of the parking lot. And gritted her teeth.
Deputy Braxton Turner leaned casually against the vehicle, shooting the breeze with her older brother Luke. Which tattletale told Brax she’d arrive home today? It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. He was a nice enough guy—the attention he focused on her not nearly as irksome as that of Jeb Greer’s son, Eliot, who’d recently returned for the summer—but she felt no sparks when in the company of either man. Nor did she, despite her best efforts, find trusting males outside the family an easy thing to do.
Besides, could neither of them see she had no intention of being trapped in a relationship that chained her to Hunter Ridge? She had a dream of helping others who, like herself, were victims of college dating violence. The last time she looked, though, tiny Hunter Ridge boasted no sprawling campus of higher learning where she could attain the needed counseling degree.
With a hasty wave in the direction of the two men, she dashed across the graveled parking lot, slowing to catch her breath when she reached the front porch entrance of the building that housed the inn and restaurant, as well as her grandmother’s apartment and office.
She smoothed her shirt, somewhat wrinkled from the California flight and a three-hour drive from Phoenix’s Sky Harbor airport. It had been an emotionally, physically and mentally exhausting retreat focused on spiritual preparation for those intending to minister in the area of dating and domestic violence. Not only had she learned more about the spiritual aspects of how to reach out to victims of dating violence, but she’d been pressed to prayerfully dig deep down inside and relive her own experiences and further confront her fears. Every minute would be worth it, though, if she could apply what she’d learned to helping others in the future, the first step being when she returned to college in the fall—keeping the vow she’d made to God in exchange for His saving her mother’s life after her cancer diagnosis.
With a silent, heartfelt prayer that she could convincingly express her concerns regarding Cash to Grandma Jo—and that she wasn’t too late—she pulled open the heavy wood door. But she was immediately forced back as a ball-capped boy of seven or eight pushed out past her.
“Joseph!” a male voice bellowed from inside. “Get back here.”
She peered into the dimly lit interior where a solidly built, broad-shouldered man rapidly approached from across the lobby. Dressed in dark jeans and a burgundy shirt, his head of jet-black hair topped by a Western hat, the grim set of his mouth clearly spelled out his exasperation.
Suddenly aware of someone holding open the door from which the child had bolted, the man paused, then touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Midnight-dark eyes met hers with an unmistakable flicker of male interest, and her own betraying heart leaped in response to the approving appraisal. But his expression shuttered as he briskly nodded in the direction the escapee had taken.
“Pardon me, ma’am. I have a young’un to round up.”
He obviously didn’t recognize her after fourteen years. But she had no doubt as to his identity—and that she was too late to prevent Cashton Herrera from signing on at the Hideaway.
* * *
Cash couldn’t lose a single second in pursuing his son, but for some reason his booted feet remained glued to the floor as he looked down at the petite young woman.
She gazed up at him as if in recognition, but while he might not be in the market for a lady these days—he’d learned his lesson the hard way with a cheating ex-wife—he’d not likely have forgotten that long, sun-streaked blond hair scooped high in a cascading ponytail. Or the slightly crooked nose, sparkling blue eyes, and trim figure tucked into jeans and a light blue, fitted chambray shirt. Ear studs glimmered with silver and turquoise, a match to the Southwestern-styled watch gracing her wrist.
“So that was your boy, was it, who shot out of here like his pants were on fire?” Her voice was firm, direct. Like she knew him and was calling him out for an offense.
He’d sired Joseph Cashton Herrera when, at eighteen, he’d gotten involved with and married a pretty—and highly unpredictable—young woman. But the past forty-eight hours had been his first attempt at full-time, hands-on single parenting. As much as he’d dreamed of more time with his son, he hadn’t been given any warning that his ex would abruptly relinquish the child they shared. No time to prepare.
As a result, things weren’t going all that well.
“Yeah, Joey’s mine.” Had the youngster gotten himself into trouble and fled the scene while his beleaguered daddy was filling out employment forms that would keep a roof over their heads? Cash squinted one eye. “Why do you want to know?”
A tiny crease formed between the woman’s dark slash of brows. “No reason. Except I’m not surprised that a child of yours appears to be a handful. Kind of amusing, actually. What goes around comes around?”
He frowned. “Do we—”
“Rio! You’re back.”
Rio?
He turned to where his new employer, Josephine “Jo” Hunter, descended the staircase into the rustic inn and restaurant’s lobby, her hair swept atop her head and secured with combs as he remembered she’d always worn it. Somewhere around eighty, she nevertheless donned jeans and a collared shirt and carried herself as regally as she had during the three years Cash’s dad worked at Hunter’s Hideaway. She’d been kind to him back then. Even kinder now. At the moment, though, her challenging gaze rested on the young woman next to him.
He turned to stare at the blonde now offering what looked to be a forced smile.
This was Rio? Princess Rio? The spoiled, freckle-faced ripsnorter who’d shadowed him while he did his chores, got underfoot and dared him to try to do something about it? He’d landed in trouble more times than he cared to remember for taking desperate measures to keep her out of his hair.
She thrust out her hand. “Hey, Cash. Long time no see.”
Still stunned, he briefly took her surprisingly firm grip in his. “Guess it has been.”
He’d been thirteen the last time he’d laid eyes on her. She’d have been—what? seven?—when his dad had been booted from Hunter’s Hideaway in disgrace.
“Cash accepted an offer to fill in for J.C. this summer,” Jo informed her evenly, and from the tone of her voice he got the sneaking suspicion she expected her granddaughter might object to that decision. But why? Surely Rio didn’t hold it against him that her cousin had once talked him into locking her up. Not that it had required much persuasion.
“Then,” Jo continued, “if all goes well—which I expect it will—he’ll move into the managerial role when you leave.”
Wait, wait, wait.
Little Rio Hunter—okay, not so little now—was the manager of the Hideaway’s horse operation?
During the interview, Jo had talked in general regarding a current manager’s imminent departure—J.C., he’d assumed—and expectations for the position. Then she’d touched on the summer hires. And she’d mentioned that a potential events booking agency would soon be inspecting the family-run business, including the horse-related part of the outfit. Rio’s name hadn’t come up. He hadn’t seen her when he’d toured the facilities.
But did that mean he’d be...?
“Looks like you’ll be reporting to me, Mr. Herrera.” Deep blue eyes that a man could get lost in gazed up at him with a hint of amusement.
Reporting to the Princess? When pigs fly. He glanced at Jo, seeking confirmation that there was a misunderstanding.
“Temporarily,” the older woman assured. “Rio departs in August.”
Two and a half months. Not exactly what he had in mind when he’d decided to leave wrangling at a dude ranch in hopes of bettering his financial situation, but he could live with that, seeing as how he didn’t have much choice. Not if he wanted to give his son a home and gain legal custody.
Speaking of which...he glanced out the door Rio was still holding open. No sign or sound of Joey. He’d better get moving.
“If you don’t mind, I need to track down my boy.”
“Then let’s plan to meet at the main barn at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow.” Rio’s chin lifted slightly. “You’ll have plenty to learn in a short time about how we do things here.”
A muscle in his gut constricted. He couldn’t leave Joey by himself at that hour. When he’d applied for the job last month and then interviewed earlier this week, kid care hadn’t been part of the equation.
Jo shook her head. “Not tomorrow, Rio. Cash needs time to make childcare arrangements and get his son settled.”
“He can’t take care of that today? Saturday will be busy, and we can’t have a kid running loose around here.” Rio crossed her arms, clearly irritated and wanting to get the show on the road, even though she apparently hadn’t even known he’d been hired until a few minutes ago. “Not only does Cash have a job to do, but there are too many dangers a boy can get into if left on his own.”
She sounded as if she didn’t think he was aware of that possibility. With Joey evading him right under her nose, was his amateur parenting status obvious?
“He won’t be running loose,” Jo assured her granddaughter. “As I’ve mentioned to Cash, Luke’s Anna and a few of her high school friends want to pick up extra money this summer by babysitting the children of Hideaway guests. What’s one more?”
Childcare. That was another expense on top of child support until he could track down his ex-wife—an endeavor he didn’t look forward to—and get things legally ironed out. Sure, her new husband—the second since she’d divorced Cash—didn’t want a boy around who didn’t belong to him. But typical of Lorilee, in the blink of an eye she could change her mind about the new marriage and the hasty disposal of their son. He didn’t trust her not to rethink her decision and call the law down on him for child abduction or something equally crazy.
Like her accusations of assault when he’d told her he planned to seek legal custody of Joey.
All he had now to stake a claim to his boy was a sack of personal documents with a scribbled note from Lorilee delivered by his former mother-in-law. The woman had dumped her grandson off at his place two days ago as he was readying to leave for Hunter Ridge.
“A babysitter on the premises would be great,” he acknowledged. But except for his pickup, which he had to hang on to, he didn’t have anything to sell for ready cash. Having lost his job at a horse training facility while jailed three-and-a-half years ago, he’d sold his two horses to help cover child support during those six months. He’d dig deep and come up with the money, though. Somehow.
But first, he had to find his boy. Who knew where the kid had gotten off to while his dad stood lollygagging with a pretty woman? “Maybe we can get together tomorrow, Rio. You know, once Joey’s settled in.”
She nodded, but clearly wasn’t on board with his apparently unexpected arrival—which was confirmed when she gave her grandmother a pointed look.
“Do you have a minute when I could speak with you, Grandma? In private?”
“Come by my office after lunch.”
He could guess the topic of that conversation, but if the delay didn’t suit her, Rio hid it well.
Jo turned to him with a warm smile. “Welcome back to Hunter’s Hideaway, Cash. We’re looking forward to working with you for a good long time.”
Her gaze briefly touched on her granddaughter, then she crossed the lobby and disappeared down a hallway.
When Cash turned to Rio, he caught her eyes narrowed on him in speculation—and a hint of female interest that caught him off guard. If it wasn’t for the sudden flush on her cheeks when his eyes met hers, he’d think he imagined it. Princesses didn’t usually look at Herreras with interest.
He shifted uncomfortably as they openly sized each other up. This situation had the makings of a complicated employer-employee relationship for more reasons than one. “I’ll be in touch as soon I get the childcare arranged. But right now I need to—”
“Look, Dad! He likes me!”
* * *
To Rio’s relief, their locked gazes released as they turned to the now-giggling, black-haired boy who’d earlier made a mad dash out the door. He hopped up on the low porch, a German shepherd at his side licking him every inch of the way.
“See, Dad?”
The gleam in his dark brown eyes reminded her of the boy his father had once been. Cashton Herrera a dad. Unbelievable.
Cash joined them on the porch, crouching to playfully tug on the bill of the boy’s baseball cap before roughing up the dog’s glossy coat. The excited canine made a tongue swipe in his direction, but a laughing Cash dodged it, then stood. Rio watched the lively exchange with mixed emotions, finding it difficult to reconcile that the gentle hand on the boy and dog had once fisted in anger against an ex-wife...
Joey looked at his father with a sweetly dimpled smile, eyes bright with hope. “Can I keep him?”
“I imagine he has a home.” Cash glanced at Rio for confirmation.
“He does. His name is Rags, and he belongs to my brother Luke and his family. But you’ll be seeing him, Joey, if Luke’s daughter Anna babysits you.”
A cloud descended over the boy’s expression as he eyed Cash accusingly.
“I don’t want a babysitter. I want to hang out with you, Dad.” He looped an arm around the dog’s neck. “And Rags.”
Cash’s gaze flickered momentarily to Rio, then back to his son. “We’ll hang out together. But I’m here to work with the horses, so we can’t be together all the time.”
“But—” The anxious-eyed boy glimpsed Rio watching him and self-consciously halted, giving the dog a hearty squeeze.
Sensing his distress, she offered an encouraging smile. “Do you like horses as much as your dad does, Joey?”
She’d noticed he wore tennis shoes and shorts. A Phoenix Suns tank top. Not a miniature of Cash in that respect.
The boy shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Dunno.”
“You don’t?” Rio cast a doubtful look at his father.
“There hasn’t been much opportunity,” Cash responded as he looked thoughtfully at his son. “But we’re going to make a horseman of you yet, aren’t we champ?”
Joey nodded, but without much enthusiasm, his grip further tightening on the dog so that it struggled to pull free. It was hard to imagine a child of Cash Herrera not being exposed to horses from the crib onward. Most kids liked horses, though, didn’t they? If not, it might make for a long summer for the little guy.
And his dad.
At that moment she sensed Cash stiffen. Curious, she glanced in the direction his attention had focused, then she stifled a groan. Braxton and Luke were still standing by the deputy’s vehicle and now looking their way.
So what did the deputy want this time? To ask her out for coffee or to the library book sale? Or was he here to pester her again to train that new horse of his? Why couldn’t he get it through his head that she wasn’t interested in him?
“Cash!” Luke called over, then said something to the deputy at his side before motioning Cash to join them.
Puzzled, she glanced at the man standing rigidly beside her. Eyes alert. Jaw tight. Pulse thrumming at the base of his throat. Then abruptly he stepped off the porch and halted on the other side of his son in an almost protective move.
What was...?
Deputy sheriff Braxton Turner’s voice rose authoritatively. “I need a few minutes with you, Mr. Herrera.”
Chapter Two (#ubaa52016-73d4-5e85-9f6a-57a7ca39502f)
Lorilee hadn’t wasted any time.
Muscles tensed, Cash stood between Joey and the two men facing him across the parking lot, his instincts at peak alert. Like the last time, would he be arrested? What would happen to Joey? Would they haul his boy off to social services or deliver him to his irresponsible mama’s doorstep—wherever that might be?
Please God, this can’t be happening. Not again.
And not here, not smack in the same place where his father’s sorry behavior had gotten the whole family kicked off the Hunter property. Cash had taken a big risk accepting a position where people would remember his dad and judge him by that long-cast shadow. But this was by far the best job offer he’d gotten. Did the deputy, not much older than Cash, come from around here and recall the legacy of Hodgson Herrera?
Heat coursing up the back of his neck, aware that Rio and his son were watching curiously, he forced himself to take a calming breath as he strode across the parking lot to where the men stood.
As he cautiously neared, a grin suddenly appeared on the red-haired deputy sheriff’s face. The man thrust out his right hand.
“I’m Braxton Turner, friend of your buddy Will Lamar.”
Cash’s gaze flicked from one man to the other. Both the deputy and Luke Hunter were smiling, with no undercurrent of anything that might threaten him or his boy. He shook the man’s hand with a firm grip that didn’t acknowledge a need to show deference to the badge.
“I was chattin’ with Will last night,” the deputy continued, “and he mentioned you’d be in my neck of the woods. That I should come on over and introduce myself.”
This was a social call?
Or was Deputy Lamar—his friend and ally since that last arrest—having second thoughts concerning him moving so far from his oversight? Was he passing the baton, so to speak, to another officer of the law?
“Will roped you into checking up on me?”
The deputy laughed. “Actually, I was bemoaning to him the bad habits of a mare I recently picked up at a bargain price. Wild Card’s living up to her name, a real handful. Rio won’t touch her with a ten-foot pole, but Will said you’d be the man to see.”
Was that the truth? That’s all this was?
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He scuffed a toe in the dusty gravel, anchoring his mind to the present, reining it in from alarmist excursions. The man wasn’t here to arrest him for child abduction. To take Joey away.
Cash offered what he hoped was a relaxed smile. “Bargain price, was she?”
The other man chuckled. “For good reason, I soon found out. Think you could give my new nag deportment lessons?”
Cash rubbed the back of his neck, kneading still-tight muscles. Always enjoying an equine challenge, he’d love to get his hands on the ornery horse. Success there might further enhance his growing reputation as a horse trainer, as well. But first things first. He got the distinct impression his primary mission would be proving himself to Rio Hunter. “I arrived this morning, so my time’s not yet my own. You probably should talk to Rio about my availability if the horse needs attention right away.”
The deputy glanced in her direction and, if Cash wasn’t mistaken, there was a glimmer of interest in the lawman’s eyes he didn’t much care for. Not that it was his business, but an unexpected protectiveness welled up for the sassy little girl he’d once known. He didn’t know her now, though. And, like Lorilee, it appeared she might have a string of love-struck males queued up awaiting her beck and call.
The man’s smile widened. “I just may have a word with her, then.”
Cash, too, glanced back to where Rio now crouched next to his son. Having gotten the German shepherd settled down between them, she was talking quietly to the boy as they patted the animal, effectively distracting Joey from what was going on with the deputy and his dad. His heart swelled with gratitude.
But what was she finding to talk to the boy about? With prompting, kids could be blabbermouths. He didn’t need the whole world knowing that up until now he hadn’t played as much of a role in his son’s life as he’d have liked. Even now he was clueless as to where to start.
“So what do you think of mountain country, Cash?” Drawing his attention from the woman and the boy on the porch, the deputy folded his arms and leaned back against the door of his SUV. “Quite a contrast to the Valley of the Sun where you hail from.”
Cash’s law-enforcement friend obviously hadn’t filled Braxton in that he wasn’t entirely a stranger to this more-than-mile-high forested territory well north of Phoenix, and Cash breathed easier. Horse business. This visit from a deputy amounted to nothing more. But he’d touch base with Will as soon as he could. Let him know of the potential legal hot potato of Joey’s arrival. He should have done that sooner. But he’d been reluctant to risk being advised not to relocate until the custody transfer was finalized.
“Pine country,” Cash agreed, “sure beats the one hundred degrees the Valley hit yesterday.”
Through the rolled-down window of the county vehicle the deputy’s radio crackled to life. Braxton jerked open the door, slid in behind the wheel, then buckled his seat belt. “Duty calls, gentlemen. Good meeting you, Cash. I’ll be in touch. See you around, Luke.”
As the SUV pulled away, Rio’s older brother again welcomed Cash to the Hideaway, then headed off in the direction of a crew-cab pickup. Still wound tight, Cash nevertheless gratefully returned to the main Hideaway building.
Talk about a close call.
It underlined the importance of getting legal custody. He couldn’t live like this on a daily basis, never knowing when Lorilee might rethink things and turn on him. Nor did he want his heart knotting every time Deputy Turner’s vehicle pulled in at the Hideaway. And from the man’s expression when he looked in Rio’s direction, he’d be back often.
Rio rose to her feet as he approached, her gaze cautious. “Everything okay?”
She would have been out of earshot of the conversation, left in the dark. How much her grandmother had shared with her regarding his past run-ins with the law, he didn’t know. But probably at least some of it, which would account for the look of concern at the deputy’s need to see him. And maybe, too, why she didn’t seem overly thrilled with his acceptance of the job.
Despite what his record showed, though, he’d never struck a woman. And he’d never hit a man who hadn’t swung at him first. But that was behind him. He was a changed man from the inside out, although it might take time for others to recognize and accept that.
“As you know, the deputy has a horse needing work. A friend of mine who knew I was signing on here pointed him my way. I told him he’d need to speak with you before I could take that on.”
Rio rolled her eyes in apparent exasperation. “It’s fine with me if you want to give it a shot, but you’re at least the fourth person he’s asked to tackle that horse, me included. The mare is beyond beautiful, but Brax won’t admit he needs to divest himself of a bad investment and move on.”
“What seems to be the animal’s problem?”
“You name it, she specializes in it.” She ticked off the offenses on the fingers of one hand. “Biting. Kicking. Balking. Bolting. Talk about headstrong.”
Watching her animated expression as she related the horse’s shortcomings, Cash raised a brow. “Sounds like a little girl I used to know.”
Brought up short by his teasing tone, she stared at him for a long moment. Then a hint of a smile touched her lips. “Very funny.”
“You gotta admit, Princess,” he said, enjoying the sudden flash of irritation in her eyes when that long ago nickname rolled off his tongue. “You were trouble with a capital T.”
“Don’t go princessing me, Cashton Herrera.” She indignantly tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re one to point fingers. Between your and my cousin’s pranks, it’s a wonder I wasn’t permanently traumatized.”
“You held your own, and you know it.”
She cut him a look out of the corner of her eye. “I can still hold my own, and you’d better never forget it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He was serious, too. Years ago he’d learned never to turn his back on her if it could be helped, and he wasn’t starting now. He’d do whatever he had to do to stay on her good side in the coming days.
While accepting this job was risky, it looked to be the fresh start he needed. A significantly increased income. Responsibilities he could sink his teeth into. It had the potential to be his dream job with a future, even though it landed him back in one of the many places he’d had no intention of ever returning. To a town where he—and no doubt plenty of others—could still smell the lingering stink of his no-good father.
* * *
“I understand your concerns, but I have reason to believe Cash will be a good fit,” Grandma Jo assured her for what seemed the hundredth time since Rio appeared at her office door an hour ago. “You’re like I was at your age. Restless. Independent. Wanting to strike out on your own. Bringing Cash on will allow you to do that.”
But Grandma’s striking out on her own had involved marrying Rio’s grandfather and joining him in overseeing Hunter’s Hideaway. Not exactly the same thing as Rio’s desire to, as her brothers teased, “save the world.”
“I don’t think Cash is the best we can do.”
“So you’re willing to stick around indefinitely to give us more time to drum up and try out additional candidates?”
“That hardly seems fair, does it?” She’d had everything worked out months ago with her cousin J.C., only to have his abrupt departure and her own looming one send her Grandma Jo scrambling to find someone to take over the management of a critical segment of the family operation. Grandma had nixed Rio’s suggestions of pulling Grady back in to oversee it. He’d moved on to other business-related responsibilities.
“Well, then, there’s your answer. Cash is our man.”
She wasn’t leaving her granddaughter grounds on which to further an argument, but Rio had to give it one final try. “Did you know he was bringing a kid, or did he just show up with one?”
“I didn’t know initially, but he did call ahead to confirm that bringing his son was okay. I assured him it was. So, sweetheart—” Grandma Jo put her arm around Rio as she walked her to the office door “—even if you were willing to delay your departure, an offer has been made and accepted. Give Cash the benefit of the doubt and focus on getting him up to speed on our operation. Not only are we preparing for that events contractor’s visit, but in a week we’ll see a big uptick in guests coming from the Valley and elsewhere for a cool weather retreat.”
“I know the drill, Grandma. I’ve lived and breathed it since I was old enough to sit on a horse.”
“Then take care of business here and before you know it—” Grandma gave her a hug “—you’ll be free to take care of business elsewhere.”
So this wasn’t a ploy to get her to stay after all. Could it be that the whole family was tickled pink to see her depart?
When a disheartened Rio entered the lobby, her mother was manning the front desk. At sixty-one, Elaine Hunter looked amazing in jeans and a light, mint-green sweater. Nobody who didn’t know the shoulder-length sandy brown hair was a wig would ever guess she’d been battling breast cancer since early last fall.
Rio’s heart swelled with love. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey.” Her mother’s face lit up at the sight of her. “I’m sorry I missed you when you got back this morning. Then I had lunch with your dad in town.”
“Grady told you I needed to see Grandma, right?”
She nodded, her gaze probing. “How did that go?”
“As expected, I guess. I was basically instructed to forget the fact that her new hire has a past we don’t need in our present. Just keep my chin up and carry on.”
“That’s how your grandmother’s dealt with life—the death of her parents when she was a teen, the loss of an infant child, your grandpa’s sudden death. It’s not a bad thing.”
“I’m not saying it is. It’s just that...” If only someone understood. Understood why Cash wasn’t a good fit.
“It’s that,” her mother echoed quietly, “you don’t want to look back on your departure with regrets.”
Rio searched her mother’s eyes. Having come face-to-face with her own mortality this past year, did Mom look back over her life with regrets? Things she wished she’d done—or hadn’t done? Things she might not now have time to do?
But far more than the fear of regret was now driving her daughter. Rather, it was a secret she’d never told anyone—that when Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer last September, Rio had told God she’d make her own life count for Him in exchange for Him saving her mother. That she’d no longer ignore the earlier inner promptings to devote herself to counseling those who—like her—were victims of all-too-common dating violence.
As much as she loved her family, the horses and the Hideaway, what she was doing here now fell far short of fulfilling the vow that kept her mother safe.
“Rio!” One of her two sisters-in-law waddled—for want of a more flattering word—into the lobby, her arms filled with pillows and bedding. With a huff of breath from the exertion, she plopped them atop the front desk. “You’re exactly the person I need to see.”
Rio eyed her warily. “What’s up?”
Shaking back waves of long blond hair, a weary-looking Delaney Marks Hunter slipped her hand protectively over a well-rounded belly. Rio’s formerly widowed brother, Luke, was ridiculously proud of that upcoming addition soon to put in an appearance not even a year after he and his new bride tied the knot.
“Someone needs to take these out to the new hire’s cabin. There’s a double bed, but Grandma Jo’s also having a single rollaway delivered for his boy.” She patted the stack. “That’s quite a hike for me and Junior here...so we’re looking for a volunteer. Any takers?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Very funny, but you don’t fool me, Rio. I caught a glimpse of that guy this morning when he was here to see your grandma. Whoa.” Delaney fanned her face with her hand. “I can’t imagine dropping this stuff off will be too much of a hardship.”
Rio made a face. No doubt female guests at Hunter’s Hideaway would more than approve of Cash. Admittedly, there had been a time when she’d have been hyperventilating in the presence of a good-looking, well-built man like him. But she’d learned her lesson. God looked not at the outside of a man but at his heart, something she was learning to do, as well.
And as far as she was concerned, any man who’d struck a woman had the darkest of hearts imaginable.
But there was no point in going into that with Delaney. Rio lifted the bedding off the front desk and pulled it into her arms, noticing that her sis-in-law, mindful of the cool nighttime temperatures at this higher-than-Denver elevation, included light blankets. “I’ll take care of it.”
Delaney’s eyes twinkled. “Cabin 10. Junior and I both thank you.”
Once outside, Rio chose to walk rather than drive and followed the perimeter of the parking lot, diving off into the trees to pass by the barns and corralled horses that made up her world. The familiar scent of horses and hay, as well as a horse’s welcoming whinny as she strode by, tugged at her heart. She’d miss them. But God had more important plans for her life now.
Branching off from the horse facilities, she entered a pine-lined, winding trail that led to bunkhouses and cabins sheltering employees of Hunter’s Hideaway. Overhead a raven squawked, and afternoon sun filtered through the pine boughs. She found her steps slowing as her mind wandered, trying to piece together what she knew of the grown-up Cash and his son.
Cash wasn’t wearing a ring, for one thing. She’d checked that out immediately, much to her shame. So he was a single dad who’d once punched out his ex-wife. But how was a man with his background able to gain custody of Joey?
Lost in thought as she continued past the cabins scattered along the trail, she was brought up short as someone behind her shouted her name. She spun to look back at one of the cabins, its door now standing open, and a hatless Cash on the porch staring in her direction.
“Are you looking for us?”
“I am.” Her face warmed as she backtracked, noting as she approached the number “10” prominently tagged on the porch railing that she’d obliviously strolled right by. “Has the rollaway been delivered yet?”
“It has.” He stepped off the porch. “I’ve rearranged the furniture so Joey will have a corner to call his own.”
She handed off the bedding, noticing a dusky, masculine shadow gracing Cash’s determined jaw. It gave him a rugged appearance and yet, without his hat, he looked surprisingly boyish. Even vulnerable.
With effort, she shook off the beguiling impression. “Have you had a chance to talk to Anna about sitting Joey?”
“Yes, and she’s interested.” His forehead creased. “Unfortunately, she’s tied up this weekend with church youth group activities. And although Joey’s school has already dismissed for the summer, classes here don’t let out until Memorial Day weekend.”
Great. A full week. She plopped her hands on her hips. “So what’s the plan?”
“Anna doesn’t want to be passed over for the job, so she’s going to talk to her stepmom. See if maybe she’ll fill in until Anna’s available.”
Rio shook her head. “Cash, her stepmother is almost eight months pregnant and looks and feels every day of it.”
“Anna didn’t mention that.”
“What were your plans for childcare when you applied for this position?” Surely he hadn’t thought a kid that young could be left on his own.
Cash glanced back at the open cabin door, then lowered his voice. “Childcare wasn’t an issue at the time I applied.”
They’d received his application a few weeks ago. So had he only recently gained custody?
“Well, we’re going to have to figure something out.” Her gaze met his, and her face warmed as hope sparked in his expressive eyes. “I mean, you are.”
He shifted the bedding in his arms. “I preferred the promise of assistance in that ‘we.’”
White teeth flashed in contrast to his warm complexion, a smile that had probably broken more than a few female hearts. But if Cash thought he could walk in with nothing but a cowboy swagger and an engaging grin and have her eating out of his hand, he had another think coming.
“Your kid, not mine,” she quipped, not caring for the way her heartbeat had ramped up a notch at that engaging smile. But the sooner she could get Cash brought up to speed the better, or she’d never get away from this place. Like it or not, it looked like this childcare problem would take a team effort after all.
Suddenly feeling the need to put some distance between them, she moved a short way down the trail, then paused. “Let me check around. See what options I can turn up.”
“I’d be much obliged.”
He looked genuinely relieved, but despite Grandma Jo’s support, was bringing him on a good idea? Even aside from the looming events contractor’s visit and a child underfoot, was he the right man for the job? Could he be trusted?
And yet...there was that business about not judging others so you wouldn’t be judged yourself. Grandma had pointed that out more than once in their postlunch tête-à-tête.
“Cash?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not my intention to revisit the past. But I know none of what happened with your dad when you were here before was your fault.”
Chapter Three (#ubaa52016-73d4-5e85-9f6a-57a7ca39502f)
Cash tensed. Why was she bringing that up now?
If nothing else, it was a continued reminder that while people didn’t blame him for his father’s sins, they wouldn’t be quick to forget where he’d come from. That they’d be on guard, watching for him to make a wrong move.
He stepped back up onto the porch and carefully placed the bedding on one of the rockers, then approached a wary-looking Rio, who now stood a comfortable distance from the cabin and the possibly listening ears of his son.
“No,” he said as he looked down at her, again noticing a slightly crooked nose, evidence that at some point the tough little tomboy must have taken a tumble. But it lent her pretty face a bit of whimsy. Whimsy. Not exactly a word found in his usual vocabulary, but it fit Rio. “No, none of it was my fault.”
She darted a look at the cabin and further lowered her voice. “Nevertheless... I think I should warn you that Jeb Greer still works here. His son Eliot’s back for the summer, too. Jeb was, you know—”
“Yeah, I know.”
Greer. The man whose wife had an affair with Cash’s father. That discovery, along with a related fistfight provoked by the behavior of Cash’s dad, had Jeb’s wife fleeing the scandal and gotten the Herrera family thrown off the Hunter property.
While his thirteen-year-old self had cringed with every blow as that fight played out, a reluctant admiration for his wiry-built old man had nevertheless swelled as Cash had watched him expertly duck, sway and dodge. Then a one-two punch sent blood gushing from the nose of his bigger, burlier opponent. Caught up in the unfolding spectacle, Cash had laughed, fist punching the air in triumph. That was, until he caught the hate-filled look on the face of the other man’s ten-year-old son.
Their gazes had met and held, and in that moment Cash’s young heart knew he’d made an enemy for life. Justifiably, he was soon to learn, once he discovered the reason for the fight.
Cash shook off the recollection, determining to do his best to steer clear of both father and son. No point in his presence dredging up bad memories for them. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
She nodded and he turned toward the cabin, then paused to look back at her. “How’d that turn out? For the Greer couple, I mean. Did she come back?”
“Divorced.”
Not unexpected.
“Sorry to hear it.” He knew well the wound Jeb lived with—despite the passage of time—when a woman he’d taken into his heart betrayed him. He’d ridden that trail himself. Wasn’t inclined to risk riding it again.
Rio waited for him to continue, but that wasn’t a topic he intended to pursue. Instead, he raked his hand roughly through his hair. “Look, I apologize for this kidcare obstacle. I appreciate your offer of assistance. But do you think maybe, for the time being, Joey could come along with me? That way I can get started tomorrow. Not delay things.”
She gave him a doubtful look. “You want a kid to tag along who isn’t sure he even likes horses?”
He hadn’t figured out what was going on with that. Joey claimed he wasn’t afraid of them.
“He may not be into horses—yet—but there’s nothing stopping him from sitting on a barrel and playing with his trucks. Or mucking out stalls and filling water tanks. At eight years old I was doing that and more. You were, too.”
“I don’t know, Cash...”
He watched with bated breath as she nibbled the corner of her lower lip in concentration. Princess Rio. Who would have imagined fourteen years ago that the little snip would blossom into such a head turner? But since he’d clued her in that at the time of his application childcare hadn’t been an issue, she was probably questioning how well he knew his son. Wondering if he could vouch that Joey would cooperate when accompanying him.
In all honesty, he didn’t know.
It might take some doing to roll the little guy out of bed before dawn, but although she hadn’t done the hiring, he sensed it would be to his long-term advantage to have Rio’s seal of approval. Starting tomorrow would be a point in his favor.
“So what do you say?” he prompted. “I think we both want to make this transition work.”
She slowly nodded, as if not yet convinced. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe we can try it tomorrow, anyway.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Her mouth curved. “Not asking much, are you?”
With a sense of elation that he’d won her over, he couldn’t help but share her smile as they openly studied each other, her mind likely teeming with as many questions about their working relationship as filled his. If he guessed right, this spunky lady kept many a man—the deputy?—on his toes these days, and not because they were on guard for an ambush as he’d often been in his youth.
Looking down at her, he caught the soft, quick intake of her breath before she abruptly spun away and started down the trail back to the heart of the Hideaway.
“See you at sunrise,” she called over her shoulder with a sassy toss of that ponytail, and he shook his head. This might prove to be a long—and interesting—few months. But as he headed back to the cabin—his and Joey’s new home—a soul-deep gratefulness welled up within him.
Everything works for the good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose.
Three years after he’d joined God’s team just prior to being released from jail, he was still trying to get his head around that biblical promise—a vow that God would bring good from the worst of situations.
Wasn’t his friendship with Deputy Lamar proof of that? And the job he’d landed at the dude ranch shortly thereafter? Even working with horses as his dad dragged the family from job to job—from affair to affair—on ranches and at other horse facilities had come full circle. He’d acquired the experience to gain a foothold at Hunter’s Hideaway. And now, in time for Joey’s arrival, this job came with the added bonus of lodging that hands-down beat his bunkhouse quarters at the dude ranch where he’d previously worked.
God was looking out for him. For them.
Joey met him inside the door, his brown eyes anxious—an expression that regularly alternated with a pugnacious one. It had been good to see him laugh with the German shepherd earlier that day. But had the boy, in his father’s brief absence, thought his daddy had left him on his own like his mother had been known to do? Abandoned him as it might seem his grandma had done two days ago?
“Hey, champ.” He placed a hand on Joey’s head, ruffling his hair. The child wasn’t much into hugs, and Cash tried to respect that. Wasn’t into saying “I love you, too,” either, no matter how many times his father told him he was loved. But at the moment it was hard not to pull him close to his heart. “What’s up?”
The youngster’s jaw jutted, dark eyes uncertain. “I’m going to live with you forever now, Dad?”
Is that what his boy wanted? Didn’t want? He hadn’t been overly talkative since his grandma dumped him off. Hadn’t spoken a word about his mother, either. Only occasionally did a betraying flash of temper surface to express an underlying anger and confusion he wasn’t yet ready to verbalize.
More than anything, Cash longed to tell him yes, they’d be together forever. But he had no legal right to his son yet. Not unless his ex-wife honored her hastily scribbled note that Cash’s former mother-in-law had entrusted to his care. If he told Joey they’d be living together from now on, would that make him feel further forsaken by his mother? Or if he was okay with living with his dad, would an affirmative answer set him up to have his hopes dashed if Lorilee or the law subsequently refused to allow it?
“That’s what I’m praying for.” He gave Joey’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “That is...if that’s what you want.”
“Whatever.”
The boy pulled away. Not exactly the response Cash was hoping for.
“You know,” he ventured, doing his best to sound reassuring, “I’m here to listen anytime you want to talk.”
“Talk about what?” Joey looked at him with a deliberately blank expression. The Dead Eye Look, Hodgson Herrera called it. A stare that, had Cash pulled it on his own father, would have gotten him knocked halfway across the room.
But Cash drew a slow breath, determined not to let the child light a fuse under his own sometimes volatile emotions. Joey had every right to be angry. To not trust him. “We can talk about anything you want to, whenever you want to.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
One. Two. Three. Counting to ten—even twenty—had become a lifesaver these past three years, and Cash felt the tension slowly ebbing. “Suit yourself. But there are a few things I need to talk to you about. Guy stuff.”
Joey’s eyes cautiously brightened. “Guy stuff?”
“That’s right.” Cash chucked him lightly on the arm. “You said you wanted to hang out with me. Well, we’re going to get a chance to do that. But I’m going to need your help...”
* * *
“What are you up to, Luke?” In the near-dawn of Saturday morning, from one of the box stalls where she’d been checking in on a pregnant mare—her favorite horse, Gypsy—Rio watched curiously as her brother pulled his saddle out of the tack room. Surely he wasn’t headed for a ride at this hour?
“I’m setting this out for Cash to take a look at.” He placed the saddle on a bale of straw, tilting it forward to rest on its saddle horn. “This strap here is getting worn. When I ran into Cash after supper last night and he mentioned he’s done leatherwork in the past, I asked him to take a look at it. See if it can be repaired.”
“I’d be happy to look at it for you.” She was more than capable of evaluating saddlery. Making repairs, too.
“No need. Keep on doing whatever it is you’re doing there, but point Cash in this direction when he gets in.”
With an exasperated sigh, she glanced at her watch as Luke departed. Ten more minutes and Cash would be late. Having lain awake in the night thinking of the too-handsome new hire and everything needing to be done before the events contractor’s visit, she was now grouchy and having misgivings concerning allowing Joey to join them.
Not only did the family have planning ahead for the contractor’s visit, but she and Cash also had their regular work to do. While summer hires could muck out stalls and help with the feeding and grooming of thirty horses, she enjoyed the hands-on involvement with the animals and time with the guests and wanted to evaluate Cash in those respects. Working with the horses and matching rider experience levels was especially important.
Today she’d team up with Cash as trail ride wranglers, then when they got back they’d cool down the animals, grab a bite to eat and be back to prepare for an afternoon ride. There would be no opportunity to keep track of a child, to keep him safe and out of mischief.
Lost in thought, she startled when Cash hailed her from one of the barn’s wide-open double doorways.
“Here we are, with minutes to spare.”
As she exited the box stall and secured the door behind her, she looked at her watch again, almost disappointed that Cash was two minutes early so she didn’t have grounds to take out her crankiness on him. She couldn’t help but smile as he approached, though, one hand steering a foot-dragging Joey in front of him and the other grasping a reusable shopping bag lumpy with what she guessed to be toys.
Again she noticed the boy’s unsuitable attire, topped by a windbreaker on this coolish morning. Nor did she miss the way he anxiously took in the presence of the stabled horses. “You need work clothes, Joey. Jeans. Boots.”
The little guy shrugged as he glumly looked up at his dad. Not a happy camper this morning.
Cash studied him. “Yeah. His wardrobe’s definitely suited to a suburban desert climate. Maybe we can find a secondhand store someplace. There’s no point in investing much money in something he’ll outgrow overnight.”
Yesterday she’d glimpsed Cash’s pickup parked behind his cabin. While the aging vehicle was well cared for, she suspected he didn’t have much to invest in anything right now.
“Well, let’s get started.” Snagging a clipboard from a recessed area in the wall, she flipped through the pages. “Looks like we don’t have a full roster for this morning’s ninety-minute ride. Only seven. Mostly newbies. One couple claims to be experienced riders, but while we don’t want to assign them a beginner’s mount that might bore them to tears, we don’t want them to overreach, either.”
Cash led a sober-eyed Joey to a stack of straw bales and motioned for him to sit down. Handed him his bag. “It’s been my experience people tend to overestimate their equestrian skills. You know, as if riding merry-go-round ponies at the county fair qualifies as an experienced rider.”
She laughed at his spot-on insight, remembering that, according to his application, he’d worked at a popular dude ranch the past several years. After he got out of jail. And before that, at other equine-related facilities where he’d trained horses. “You noticed that, too?”
He grinned. “All too common.”
As they walked through the barn, keeping Joey in sight, he listened attentively to her reasoning behind her chosen rider and mount assignments. Through the stall bars he gave each horse a pat on the neck or a scratch under the chin, entirely comfortable in his surroundings.
So why wasn’t she?
He didn’t talk much, for one thing. Nodded occasionally. Asked a question here and there. And left her uncharacteristically prattling on to fill in the silence. It didn’t help either that she was all too aware of him as he strolled along beside her, her senses on high alert. To her annoyance, the faint, clean scent of his soap and the occasional good-natured chuckle that rumbled from the depths of his chest sent her heart galloping.
Disgusted with her involuntary reaction—a betrayal of women everywhere who’d been lured in by charming men with a penchant for punching—she hugged the clipboard to her chest. The crew would be arriving shortly to feed and groom the animals. Maybe that everyday routine would settle this unfamiliar edginess. “Any other questions?”
“I’m interested,” Cash ventured with an earnest look, “in learning more details of what your grandmother shared regarding an events contractor coming to check things out. How do you anticipate that will affect what goes on in this particular aspect of the Hideaway?”
“We learned of the company’s interest in including us as a possible venue for small-event gatherings maybe two weeks ago.” Ideas for the visit were being bandied about. Nothing solidified. “I’m sure Luke will go over the financial reports with you as they relate to our seasonal trail riding offerings, hayrides and sleigh rides, but as Grandma may have mentioned, we’re still recovering from that nationwide economic downturn several years ago. With the help of an influx of artisan newcomers, Hunter Ridge is getting there, but hasn’t quite bounced back yet.”
He nodded. “She touched on that.”
“My brother Grady’s bringing in wildlife photographers for workshops. But this is an opportunity for a considerable number of other small-group bookings if we can get a thumbs-up through this contractor. They claim that more and more of their big city clients are looking for unique, intimate venues for gatherings.”
“Gatherings such as...?”
“Corporate retreats. Club getaways. Family celebrations—you know, milestone anniversaries, birthdays, graduations. Reunions. That kind of thing. The forest and wildlife we have in abundance here, along with our cabins, cookouts and trail rides would be a big part of the draw.”
He folded his muscled arms—not that she was noticing.
“I seem to recall there was some of that here when I was a kid.”
“Oh, there was, but this would be a more focused endeavor. Targeting that type of clientele to a greater extent for a more reliable source of income than sporadic group bookings provide.”
He tipped his head thoughtfully. “Guests at the last place I worked had higher standards than dudes used to. Everyone likes to brag that they’ve been roughing it, but there’s not a whole lot of roughing it in reality these days.”
She laughed. “Glamping, you mean?”
That was the latest global trend—“glamorous” camping. Getting off the beaten path in luxury.
“No offense, Rio, but while the Hideaway provides clean, well-cared for accommodations with a homey touch, they don’t exactly fit the definition of luxurious unless you’re visiting from a Third World country.”
Thanks for pointing that out, Mr. Herrera.
“Well, that’s something we’ll be discussing in-depth next week.” She kept her tone deliberately light, determined not to take offense at his critical comment. “We’ll be considering what upgrades or alterations might realistically be required to meet the needs of a slightly different type of guest.”
“You’ve researched this company and asked for a profile of their clients? Have an idea of the caliber of venues the company is currently booking?”
Rio took a steadying breath. Gave him her best smile.
“I’m sure Grady or Luke have either done that or will be doing it soon.” Neither had mentioned it, though. She’d been gone a week, however, and would no doubt be brought up-to-date at Monday night’s weekly business meeting—of which Cash would now be a part. “But we have time on our side. The company’s been candid with us that they’re evaluating numerous potential sites in the West and Southwest this summer. We’re one of many. They ballparked the Hideaway visit for late July. Maybe not until August.”
“But don’t you think—”
“Dad!”
Relieved at the interruption, she turned to where a wide-eyed Joey was still sitting on the bale of straw, now surrounded by three attentive barn cats.
“I think they want to eat me, Dad.”
Did the giggle from the too-solemn boy warm his father’s heart as much as it did hers?
She handed the clipboard to Cash, then trotted the length of the wide passage between the stalls. When she reached Joey, she swiftly scooped up a yellow tabby. “These fur balls don’t want to eat you. They’re waiting for you to give them a treat.”
Extending her arm behind him to lift the lid on a small plastic box attached to the wall, she pulled out a handful of kitty treats. She gave one to Joey, who tentatively held it out to the cat in her arms. It made short work of the treat, crunching happily away. The other two jumped atop the bale with the boy.
He smiled again. “They all want some.”
As the cat in her arms leaped to the floor, she sensed Cash coming up behind her and held out a treat to him. But when he shook his head, she handed the remaining goodies to Joey.
“Look, Rio,” Cash said, his voice low as he pulled her aside. “I’m sorry if I came across as disparaging of the Hideaway. That wasn’t my intention. It’s just that I’ve spent the past several years catching a glimpse of the lifestyles of the rich and not-so-famous, and it’s been an eye-opener.”
“I imagine so.” Obviously he didn’t think the Hideaway could meet those lofty expectations.
“I do have ideas, though,” he continued with a nod to her clipboard still in his hands, “that may be in keeping with the integrity and history of the place.”
Cash hadn’t been on the premises twenty-four hours and he already had ideas?
Annoyed at his presumptuousness, she tried to ease her clipboard from his fingers. They had business to attend to.
But he didn’t relinquish it.
She gave it a tug. He held fast.
Looking into his amused eyes—he’d no doubt noticed the spark of irritation in hers—she fought back the urge to jerk it out of his hands. “May I have my clipboard, please?”
“You may.” He leaned in slightly. “But only if you forgive me for sharing my opinions. I get the feeling that, in spite of the future role I’ll be playing here, you think I’m stepping out of bounds—Princess.”
Heartbeat sprinting, to her irritation she couldn’t draw her gaze from his. Out of bounds. That’s definitely where he’d stepped. “I—”
“So it’s not a vicious rumor,” a man’s voice boomed from the open doorway.
Cash immediately relinquished the clipboard and stepped away from her as the man approached. Now as big and burly as his father, Eliot Greer was dressed in work clothes and boots, his unruly blond hair shower-damp. He was a handsome man several years younger than Cash, who was at the moment looking at Eliot blankly, as though trying to place him.
But why was her face warming as if the new arrival had caught her in a compromising situation with their new hire?
“You remember Eliot Greer,” she said somewhat breathlessly, “don’t you, Cash?”
“Oh, yeah.” Eliot chuckled, but didn’t sound amused. “He remembers me.”
Chapter Four (#ubaa52016-73d4-5e85-9f6a-57a7ca39502f)
Now that a name had been put to the big bruiser of a guy, Cash could see the resemblance between the grown-up version of Eliot and his father, Jeb. Although time had passed, those pale blue eyes that had once stared holes in Cash didn’t cut him any slack now as they flicked between Rio and him.
He’d have to be stupid not to recognize the disapproval in the gaze—and its softening when resting on Rio. Cash had barely set foot on the property, and already another of Rio’s admirers had surfaced.
Eliot thrust out his hand. “Wish I could say it’s good to see you again, Herrera.”
“Been fourteen years.” Cash briefly clasped the offered hand. He had no intention of reviving youthful conflicts.
Eliot’s eyes narrowed. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re back in Hunter Ridge considering this is where—”
“Let’s not go there.” A familiar splinter of anger wedged itself under Cash’s fairly thick skin—something he’d been on guard against in recent years, too well aware of where it could rapidly lead. Conscious of his son seated nearby, Cash’s words came quietly. “We were boys, and our parents’ poor choices had nothing to do with us.”
The man snorted. “Maybe not for you, but—”
“Eliot.” Her eyes issuing a warning, Rio nodded toward Joey, who, although earlier occupied with the barn cats, was now taking in the conversation with interest. “This is Cash’s son. Joey.”
The other man studied Cash’s boy for a long, expressionless moment, then walked over to shake his hand. “Good to meet you, Joe Herrera. I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer.”
The boy nodded uncertainly, his questioning eyes darting to his dad. Then Eliot moved back to Cash.
“So you have yourself a kid now. That come with a wedding ring?”
Cash’s jaw tightened at the insinuation that there wouldn’t have been one. “It did. Divorced now.”
“Figures.” He gave a dismissive shrug, then turned to Rio. “I have those three wagons cleaned out and repainted. Axles oiled. So you can come around to give them your stamp of approval when you’re finished with this morning’s ride. See if there’s anything else that needs attending to before that church group comes in for hayrides over Memorial Day weekend.”
“We have a packed schedule today.” She flipped through the pages on the clipboard. “I trust your work, though.”
The man’s chest puffed out at her words of praise. “I want to make sure things are up to the Hideaway’s standards. Assuming, of course, that those high standards hold since I was here last summer.”
He cut a dubious look in Cash’s direction, and Rio frowned.
“Of course our standards hold. And I’ll do my best to check out the wagons today.”
“Much obliged.” He smiled in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on Rio. Then he gave Cash a brisk nod and strode out of the barn.
“Sorry, Cash.” Rio made a face that reminded him of when she was a kid. “Eliot seems a bit touchy today.”
Because Cash had been standing too close to Rio when the other man had walked in? “He never liked me much when we were kids. Can’t say I blame him.”
“He needs to get over it.”
Pushing thoughts of Eliot momentarily aside, Cash looked to where Joey was again playing with one of the cats. If he hadn’t been mistaken, his son had been uneasy that morning about spending the day around the corrals and barns. But in an effort to please his dad, he’d gone along with what they’d discussed the day before—the importance of the role he’d play in enabling Cash to get started on the new job. At least the furry felines seemed to have kept him distracted. Of course, horses had yet to be removed from the confines of their stalls. But so far, so good.
Rio tapped the clipboard with a knuckle. “Looks like we’re set to go. And no rush, but later today Luke has a saddle he’d like you to—”
“How long, again, is Eliot here for?”
At his too-abrupt comment, she gave him a questioning look. “He’s in college. Comes back here to work every summer. Is that a problem?”
“Just wondered.” Fortunately, as the future horse operation manager, he wouldn’t have to deal with the other man year-round. But would there be an expectation that Eliot be hired full-time postgraduation? “What’s he do besides maintain wagons?”
“Odds and ends. He does building and fence maintenance. Is active in trail rides and hayrides. Whatever needs to be done.”
“What’s his major?”
She frowned, tiring of his questions as she’d earlier tired of his opinions? “Sports medicine. He’s working on his master’s. Why?”
Cash had taken a few night classes after high school himself, but hadn’t gotten anything close to a degree. Eliot was one up on him in that respect. But, thankfully, the career path Eliot had chosen didn’t sound like something he’d be putting into practice around the Hideaway in the future.
Cash shrugged. “I hope that works out for him.”
And kept him far from Hunter’s Hideaway. Eliot appeared to have a chip on his shoulder, and Cash didn’t want to be forced to be the one to knock it off. But the guy could rest easy. Cash wasn’t looking for trouble, and he wasn’t campaigning to be president of Rio Hunter’s fan club. Once upon a time, crazy in love, he’d played that thankless role with Lorilee longer than he should have—right up until she’d walked out of his life with another besotted fool, toddler Joey in her arms.
“Cash? Did you hear me?” Rio bumped his arm with her clipboard, drawing him back to the present. “Our summer hires will be here any minute to start working with the horses. You might want to find a place for Joey that’s more out of the way.”
“Yeah, sure.” She was right. Sitting in the open might not be the best spot for him once activity picked up. Cash hadn’t figured out what he’d do with Joey when accompanying Rio on this morning’s ride, either.
When he’d suggested to Joey that he could double-up on Cash’s horse, it hadn’t gone over well. So he’d backed off that idea. Of course, he could always force the issue if that’s what it came down to. Throw him up in the saddle and be done with it. That’s what his own father, not pandering to any sign of weakness, would have done. But he didn’t want to make the boy more fearful or risk humiliating him.
He walked over to Joey and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s find you a better place to hang out while I work.”
“Can I bring the kitty?”
“Sure.” But barn cats usually had a mind of their own.
When he had his son safely situated in an old-time surrey where he could watch the activity in the biggest corral, Cash joined Rio and a group of high school and college-aged summer hires. All were Hunter Ridge natives who were as horse crazy as he’d been at their age. A great bunch he’d enjoy working with.
But in short order, he again butted heads with Rio.
It was going to be a long day.
* * *
It wasn’t Rio’s imagination. Cash Herrera had an opinion on literally everything that had to do with anything.
After the last ride of the day, with satisfied guests sent home or back to their quarters to await dinner and with horses unsaddled, groomed, fed and turned loose in what passed for pasture at this high elevation, she was more than ready to call it a day. And put some distance between herself and the opinionated cowboy, as well.
But she had to stick around the barns until Cash returned from retrieving his son from her folks’ place. They needed to have a talk concerning that turn of events. Her mom, having seen Joey racing his toy cars along the leather seat of the surrey before the first ride of the day, had taken him under her wing—despite Rio’s protests. Baking cookies. A walk with Rags. Coloring pictures. Kids always took to Mom, and while she appreciated her mother’s consideration for the little boy, Cash couldn’t go fobbing his kid off on other people. Especially not on her mother, who still needed regular rest.
“He probably has an opinion about that, too,” she said to one of the cats that was carefully cleaning a front paw a few feet away from her. With a sigh, she continued filling the water tank in the main corral.
Cash’s first observation of the day, of course, had to do with the inadequacy of the Hideaway’s facilities to meet the expectations of the ritzy clientele of the last place he’d worked. Next had been his insistence that anyone under eighteen wear a riding helmet despite the waiver stating the requirement was for those under sixteen. And he further changed things up by deciding one of the mares would handle better with a snaffle bit rather than a curb and that one of the geldings needed to sit things out until his bad habit of crowding the horse in front of him was corrected.
All the latter things were good. He knew his stuff. But already he was taking over.
Having turned off the spigot, she slowly cranked up the hose as she listened to the chattering of summer hires coming from the main barn while they attended to their end-of-day chores. More than once, to her exasperation, she overheard the name Cash.
It wasn’t her imagination, either, that the guests on the two rides that day had deferred to him more times than not. That they directed their questions and comments to him rather than to her. Granted, he looked the part of an experienced horse wrangler with those well-worn boots, the Western hat low on his brow and that slow smile loaded with charm. Unlike him, she preferred to don a riding helmet to encourage the younger crowd to willingly accept the headgear rules. So maybe she didn’t look as authentic as their guests thought she should?
Obviously, too, summer hires Sue, Kaitlyn, Micki and Deena, not many years her junior, had fallen head over heels for Cash, and he wasn’t helping matters with the way he teased them and listened attentively to whatever they had to say. Which, to her way of thinking, was way more than needed to be said. Even Ned, Leon and Billy seemed to be developing a hero worship of sorts, setting cowboy hats at the same rakish angle as their new idol. When she’d complained to Delaney at lunchtime, she got no sympathy. Just a grin and a sounds like someone’s jealous to me retort that irritated her further.
She was not jealous. She was a woman who had a job to do and people to supervise to make sure Hideaway guests had the best experience possible. But suddenly the whole world was being forced to rotate around Cashton Herrera.
“I know you said you wanted to see me, but you look like a thundercloud fixin’ to break loose.”
Startled, she looked up at Cash as he pushed off from where he’d been leaning his muscled forearms on the corral fence. How long had he been standing there while she was lost in her thoughts? Thoughts about him.
As he unlatched the corral gate, she gave the hose crank one final jerk. “Enter at your own risk, cowboy.”
He slipped through the gate and fastened it closed, then walked toward her with that confident cowboy stride of his. Broad shouldered. Narrow hipped. No wonder he had the girls swooning. She deliberately looked away. Any man she’d ever again take an interest in had to have more going for him than that. The superficial looks and charm no longer hacked it.
“So what’s up, Prin—”
“Where’s Joey?”
He halted a few feet away, a smile surfacing in spite of her clipped words.
“He’s playing with Chloe and Tessa. And yes,” he added before she could voice the question, “they’re supervised.”
Chloe was Luke’s younger of two daughters by his first wife, and Tessa was the child of the former Sunshine Carston, town council member, artists’ cooperative manager and Grady’s bride as of last Valentine’s Day.
She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not going to work, Cash.”
“What isn’t?”
“Not having a regular caregiver in charge of Joey until after school is out. Besides, Anna usually has a full plate of summer activities—horse shows, church youth group outings, chores around the Hideaway.”
“We’ll work around them.”
“How? My mom can’t be taking on your kid to raise. No way. She’s—” Maybe she shouldn’t go there. Mom’s health was family business and didn’t concern an outsider.
“She’s what?”
“She has more important responsibilities than playing babysitter.”
Cash frowned. “I didn’t ask her to help. You were there. She offered. Joey would have been fine right where he was.”
“You think so?” She gave him a disbelieving look. “Take it from me, that kid isn’t going to be satisfied with sitting by himself for the next week, no matter how much you’d like to believe it. It’s a matter of time before he gets bored and restless, and the next thing you know—”
“We made a deal.”
“A deal.”
“Right. I explained how I need to make a go of this job and that I need his help. That he has to stay out of trouble. He was good with it.”
This man was clueless. “He’s eight years old.”
“And smart as a whip.”
“I’m not disputing that. But a deal? I can see what you’re getting out of it, but what’s in it for him?”
“Well...” Cash looked momentarily perplexed, then his voice firmed. “Whatever time I have free on Sundays is his. Whatever he wants to do. Within reason, of course.”
“So ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week he kicks his heels and twiddles his thumbs all by his lonesome while you go about your business.”
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