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Winning Over the Rancher
Mary Brady
KayLee's To-Do List:1. Get the job.2. Convince the cowboy.3. Find a way to make him stay.The only thing standing between KayLee Morgan and success is Baylor Doyle. She's in Big Sky Country to land the contract that will give her unborn baby security. But the protective, far-too-sexy Baylor isn't sure she's the right person to design his family's vacation ranch.Honestly, KayLee's sure his reluctance stems more from the sparks zinging between them. She knows Baylor feels what's happening, too. And with the close-knit Montana community making her feel so welcome, she's found the perfect place to raise her child. Now to convince Baylor to stay with her, too.



“And you find yourself helplessly attracted to me?”
Baylor took another step toward her.
“If you come any closer, I might have to defend all of us from me. I might seem a helpless, pregnant thing, but I have to tell you, I’m not.” KayLee drew herself up tall and put fists to her hips to take up as much space as possible.
“Never entered my mind that you were.” He stopped and leaned against a convenient pine tree, letting her put some distance between them. “Helpless in any way.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I am so much less censored these days, but I thought if I got it out in the open I could enlist your help in keeping me from doing something we’d regret.”
He moved again, stalking unhurriedly toward her like a big cat after prey.
“Darlin’,” Baylor said with an exaggerated drawl, “speak for yourself.”

Dear Reader,
I hope you like reading about the people of St. Adelbert as much as I love writing about them. Thanks to each of you who reads this book. KayLee Morgan has eight weeks to rebuild her life from the rubble of her past before her child is born. In that short time, she needs to find a place to live and a way to support the two of them. A design project on a ranch outside a small town in Montana offers hope, but winning over Baylor Doyle, the reluctant rancher in charge, is the only way for her to get the job. KayLee soon realizes if she stays close enough to snag the project, she may loose her heart in the process to a man who will be gone before her child is born. It can’t be helped. KayLee will risk anything, even her heart, for a chance at a secure future for her child.
I hope you enjoy KayLee and Baylor’s story as they each face their own shortcomings and search for a way to say the impossible yes to love everlasting. Bonus: See how the other people of St. Adelbert are faring, growing, loving, propagating, etc. I’d love to hear from you. Visit my website at www.marybrady.net or write to me mary@marybrady.net. Go have a romp with the Harlequin Superromance authors at www.superauthors.com. Enjoy their blog. Comment and you could win great prizes.
Regards,
Mary Brady

Winning Over the Rancher
Mary Brady


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary Brady lives in the Midwest and considers road trips into the rest continent to be a necessary part of life. When she’s not out exploring, she helps run a manufacturing company and has a great time living with her handsome husband, her super son and one cheeky little bird.
Dedicated to
the intrepid spirit who was Cindy Soerens.

Acknowledgments
To the people of Montana who once again proved
to me they keep in touch with the earth and
appreciate how good life can be.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE
THIS WAS EITHER the most brilliant move KayLee Morgan had ever made in her life or it was the biggest blunder. One thing was absolutely certain, they weren’t in Southern California anymore. No, two things were certain. She didn’t have a warm enough coat for April in Montana. And, for crying out loud, she shouldn’t have worn her favorite blue wrap dress in this wind, either.
The early afternoon sun shone brightly, but a chill swept across the expansive porch of the rambling house at the Shadow Range Ranch and had her holding the folds of her coat tightly together for protection. To get herself pumped, she rose up onto her toes and lowered and did it again. Time to be brave.
Do-or-die time.
Do something. Don’t just stand there time.
Securing the strap of her shoulder bag in place with one hand, she put her other palm on her belly. “Here we go, kiddo.”
“Talkin’ to yourself?”
KayLee spun to see a man standing several feet away from the base of the steps—not just a man, a rancher, a real live Montana rancher. He had his cowboy hat pushed back on his forehead and gloriously blond curls spilled from under the brim. His well-worn leather jacket gaped open—didn’t he know it was cold in Montana?—and showed off a cream-colored shirt, open at the neck. His jeans clung to his muscular thighs, cowboy boots gave him an inch he didn’t need and on his face he wore an expression that could only be described as neutral, though he was only a millimeter away from a frown.
But man, he was—well, by the standards she had left two days ago—beautiful.
“I guess I was talkin’ to myself.” She used his own vernacular and then spread a quick so-pleased-to-meet-you smile across her face. She knew how to look confident. She had, after all, recently come from the land of people versed in becoming the part, any part. “Would you be one of the Doyle family?”
“Baylor Doyle, ma’am.” He doffed his hat and the curls jumped loose. And then, oh, my God, he actually ran his hand through his hair.
A new kind of shiver passed through her. Yeah, yeah, she said to her pregnancy-crazy libido. All she wanted from this guy was for his family to hire her for the job. She did not need another pretty face in her life, but she’d deal.
She started to descend the steps with her hand outstretched. “KayLee Morgan of K. L. Morgan and Associates.”
Diamond-blue eyes narrowed a bit and a frown came on full bore. Baylor Doyle met her halfway up, engulfed her hand with his big rough one and squeezed with a polite amount of firmness. He studied her without blinking.
“You’re K. L. Morgan.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a disappointment. K.L. was supposed to be some fortyish man with a touch of confidence-building gray at the temples. Most of the people she’d met during this desperate work search kept expecting her to tell them she’d go get the boss and to throw off a curtsy or something. Not her fault she looked a lot younger than twenty-eight or that her “nads” were ovaries.
Oh, shoot. She had forgotten to wear her glasses. She didn’t really need them, but they helped her look her age.
“I am K.L.” She pulled her spine straighter. She absolutely could not afford to blink even once, as she was positive ranchers were no-nonsense people—and she was working for two, or she would be when somebody gave her a job. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me in person, I’m excited to show you and your family my ideas for the Shadow Range Eco Ranch project. I think you will all be very pleased.”
“I expect everyone else is already in the house.” He held his hand out for her to proceed back up the steps.
His soft Western drawl clipped a few of his words as he spoke and she found the sound attractive in an exotic, alien-to-the-Eureka-state kind of way.
Wait a minute, she thought as she crossed the porch. Everyone else? She knew there was a son or two involved in the deal. How many more players were there? Were they all going to frown like this one?
He held open the door of the house for her and she stepped into a previous century. Antlers hung from the walls of the foyer and the huge stone fireplace in the adjoining pine-paneled room had discoloration from the heat and smoke of a hundred years of use, maybe more.
He led her into the large room dominated by heavy leather furniture and filled with Western objects from varying cultures and time periods.
“About time you got home, Baylor. She’ll be here anytime,” a man’s voice called from down the hallway.
He grimaced. “Wait here, please. I’ll see if they are ready for you.”
“Am I early? Do you want me to wait outside?”
KayLee regretted the questions as soon as the words were out. They made her seem tentative. Not good in a place where life was serious and flippancy was most likely confined to the children.
He shook his head and strode off down a hallway from where the voice had come. His broad shoulders, it seemed, spread from wall to wall, and could probably hold the weight of the world.
Frown or no frown, if she weren’t careful, she’d be in love Hollywood-style with this man—fast, hot and gone as soon as sanity returned.
She took in her surroundings as she waited: pottery on high shelves, stark black-and-white photos of Old West life in groupings on one wall, family type photos hung in a large collection on the far wall. If these were all family photos, there were a lot of Doyles. One photo, if she wasn’t mistaken, was Baylor Doyle, with his parents, his two brothers and a sister from at least ten years ago. She walked over to the photo.
She wondered if she’d have to face all of them today.
“They don’t bite.” Baylor’s deep voice came from behind her.
Funny, she thought, coming from a man who looked as if he might, but when she faced him, he wore a deliberate smirk. It made him skew bad boy even more than the frown. Attraction stirred in her and she gathered her full coat around her. A pox on bad boys. That had been why her husband had been so attractive, a rogue producer on the fringes of Hollywood.
“Most of them don’t, anyway,” he continued, sans drawl, and it was her turn to narrow her eyes in suspicion. “My mother will be here in just a couple of minutes.”
“Thank you.” Bring ’em on, all of them, KayLee decided as she stepped away from the wall of photos and over to a carefully lit painting of a solitary horse, saddled, riderless, standing on a rocky hilltop, proud. If he hadn’t been wearing a saddle, she would have thought him a wild stallion.
“This horse must be special to your family,” she said as she examined the delicate brush strokes and the colors suffused with light and energy.
“Not the horse so much as the artist.”
KayLee glanced at the man again. His playfulness was gone, replaced by something that might be hurt, but also might be “none of your business, so don’t ask.”
She leaned closer. In the lower left corner in pale blue paint was the name Crystal.
“It’s beautiful.” She wanted to ask about it, but if she didn’t get the job…
He let her wander the room, getting to know the Doyle family a bit more. She tried to affect casually interested and empathetic, not needy or like the fish out of water she was.
If the objects in the room were an indication of the family history, KayLee couldn’t help but feel awe at the depth. She moved from the gleaming silver cup sealed in a glass box to a handmade baby gown pinned out on a frame and also protected behind glass. “Some of these artifacts appear to be really old.”
“Many of them have been in the family for a long time.”
“Those?” She pointed at the pair of rifles hanging above the fireplace.
“They were used on the ranch well over a hundred years ago.”
The stocks of the rifles were worn and the barrels dinged but they had been polished with care. She wondered how many lives they had taken and how many they had saved.
“It’s all so far-removed from the chrome accessories and plastic fingernails in my life.”
He checked her hands and she held them up. “A little clear polish is all.”
“Good, I’d have hated to have to throw you out over plastic fingernails.” His expression gave nothing away, but he sounded as if he were kidding.
At least she hoped to God he was. Baylor Doyle was a swarming mass of confusing signals. She’d have to steer clear of him as much as she could.
An older woman entered the room from the hallway. She glared pointedly at Baylor, then smiled welcomingly as a tray of chocolate chip cookies just off the cooling rack in grandmother’s kitchen.
“Hello, Ms. Morgan. Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s lookin’ to be booted out of the state,” she said, giving the man a “be good” look that could only come from a mother.
“You must be Evelyn Doyle.” KayLee stepped toward the older version of the woman in the family photo and put her hand out. “This is a lovely home, so full of history.”
“The Shadow Range Ranch has been in the family for over five generations. Though it’s much larger than the original homestead.” Evelyn Doyle’s smile broadened and she adjusted the thick gray ponytail that hung down the front of her Western-style plaid shirt.
“And we’d like to keep it that way.” Baylor leaned down, placed a kiss on his mother’s cheek and then stepped away.
Evelyn took KayLee’s hand in one of hers and put her other hand on Kaylee’s shoulder, giving her a couple of pats. “I am Evelyn Doyle, but Evvy will do,” she said. Then, without taking her hand away, she looked up at Baylor. “Welcome back, Bay, dear. Your buying trip must have gone well.”
“They’ll be delivering the new stock as soon as it can be arranged.”
Evvy let her hand drop and smiled at KayLee again. “I’m afraid there’ll be a lot of livestock talk here. We’ve bred our own line of Angus beef and we’d like to think it’s superior to most of what’s out there.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about beef that isn’t ready to put on my plate,” KayLee said and looked from Evvy to Baylor, hoping that wasn’t some sort of faux pas.
Baylor made a quiet, derisive sound.
“Baylor.” Man and mother held a momentary wordless exchange and then Evvy continued, “I’m glad you made it in time. Bay, take her coat now, please.”
Evvy gestured toward KayLee, who shrugged off the heavy shoulder bag and placed it on the floor at her feet. The light touch of Baylor’s fingertips on her shoulders as he helped her out of her coat might have felt sensual if she weren’t standing between the rancher and his mother. And not at all if pregnancy hormones hadn’t tricked her brain into becoming a sex engine. Thankfully, Baylor took her coat and left quickly.
“And your drive?” Evvy asked KayLee as Baylor strode away.
KayLee tugged on the tails of the white sweater she had put over her dress when she realized her coat wasn’t going to be warm enough. “I can’t get over how gorgeous Montana is. I hope I’m not being insulting if I say you all live in a scenic postcard.”
“Not at all. Even those of us who were born here think the same thing from time to time. Well, come, we’re all in the den.”
“I’m so glad to have the chance to meet everyone.” Everyone. Gulp.
When KayLee heard Baylor coming back into the room, she spun around slowly and faced him. His steps faltered and he gave her a long, questioning look with his eyebrows nearly drawn together, but he didn’t say anything.
She smiled to herself. This was the moment he realized he was seeing a pregnant woman, that her girth wasn’t just from her coat that fell from her shoulders in voluminous folds.
Evvy had not been surprised or, at least, not bothered.
After more smiles and nods, Baylor snatched up KayLee’s shoulder bag from the floor, and they all headed down a hallway, Evvy Doyle in the lead.
The ranch house was big—bigger than she expected. Good. They were already used to big spaces inside as well as out. Hopefully, they’d like the wide-open design of her guest cabins the best. If K. L. Morgan and Associates got this job, her design firm might have a future, she might have a future and so might her baby, who was the only associate she had.
KayLee buried any sign of desperation under a bright Hollywood smile and kept her place in the parade.
Moments later, they stepped into a den with a knotty pine floor and walls, and a cheery fire in the fireplace. Five more faces assessed KayLee as they stood to greet her—two women and three more men. Seven against one. Fine, she’d faced worse odds when her husband’s creditors came after her.
The older man, no doubt the Curtis Doyle from the phone calls and the father in the photo, stepped forward to stand beside his wife. If there were middle-aged, Western-wear wedding-cake couples out there, then this pair had been the model. There weren’t two people in the world as well-matched as Evvy and Curtis Doyle, or who looked more honest and upstanding.
Or two people she knew she couldn’t disappoint. Well, where did that come from?
“Mr. Doyle, I’m KayLee Morgan. Nice to meet you in person.”
He shook her hand firmly and then introduced her to the rest of the family. The younger men and women were dressed in what KayLee thought might be casual-office Western wear, jeans and boots with open-necked button shirts from plain to plaid, and they all inspected her carefully.
Lance and Seth were Baylor’s older brothers and the women, Holly and Amy, were their wives. The wives grinned and the men smiled politely. All handshakes were firm, not one limp hand in the bunch. She expected no less and gave as good as she got.
Crystal, the sister from the photo who had painted the stallion, apparently lived in Denver and wasn’t able to make the meeting Curtis had said.
When they were all seated, Baylor and his father flanked the elder Mrs. Doyle like the Fu Dogs outside Grauman’s Chinese Theater. She was guarded well. Point taken, KayLee thought. The family was tight.
Good. She’d rather set up an alliance than broker family squabbles any day.
She shifted her gaze from one Doyle to the next. These were not boardroom types. They didn’t come here to posture and preen. They came to review the package she had prepared for the development of the ranch project and to make a decision. Excitement frizzling along her nerves let her know she was ready for this.
“Small talk or business first?” she asked.
Lance, the oldest son, barked a sharp laugh. “Well played, ma’am.”
Most of the others nodded.
Time was money—their money, not from the bank account of some big corporation—and she knew how they felt.
“I think we pretty much laid out our position in the information we sent to you.” This was from Curtis Doyle. “Why don’t you show us what you brought?”
KayLee donned her let-me-entertain-you smile.
As she did a quick study of the group, the fire crackled and the sounds of children’s laughter filtered in from a distance. “Great then, I’ll get started.”
She splayed open her leather shoulder bag and took out a half-dozen copies of her proposal, including samples of her past work, her work from her life before Chad. Her old laptop sat on the backseat of her car. Its age wouldn’t make her presentation cutting-edge, and she suspected these people were hard-copy types anyway.
She kept one for herself and placed the rest on the large round wooden coffee table in the center of the room. “I apologize for not having enough.”
“We can share,” Amy said, handing one to Holly. The husband-and-wife couples snuggled close and KayLee suddenly wanted to cry.
Pregnancy hormones. She blinked, had several soothing swallows from the glass of water on the table in front of her and continued. “In the final plan there are the seven guest cabins you requested and I recommend they be of varying sizes. My proposal is to build one of the medium-sized and one of the smaller ones first. I believe beginning on all of them at once would put too much of a strain on the resources here in the valley. The sheer noise created by doing the project on such a large scale would be unpleasant for the people as well as the wildlife.”
She saw a couple of nods and one slight smile. The smile was from Evvy. The rest had remained neutral, except Baylor, who just frowned harder. Tough nut. She wondered what it would take to crack him.
KayLee took another drink of water and then checked to see that her smile was still in place. She’d made harder sales than this one and that was when she was a youngster compared to now.
“I suggest, in keeping ahead of the curve, that all of the building materials be as green, as eco-friendly, as possible.” There were a couple more nods with this proposal. “But I also propose that the second medium cabin, when built, be constructed with the materials and ventilation needed to make that particular house a safe environment for anyone who, for health reasons, cannot tolerate what most of us consider normal indoor pollutants.”
The faces of the group had all taken on a rather neutral countenance. She searched for a sign. Approval? Bewilderment? Boredom?
Amy leaned forward and refilled the glass of water in front of KayLee. It wasn’t much, but she took it as a sign someone wanted her there.
She nodded her thanks, took a drink and then drew herself up and pressed on with the details. She answered their questions as they asked them, giving a solid look of confidence and an honest response. She had built her premarriage business on integrity and expected to do the same now.
As she explained the family area concept where two cabins were located near an all-natural play area, but not near the other cabins, she got nods and smiles from the three women.
She had worked hard studying their wish lists, the absolutes of the landscape, aerial photographs, topographical maps and available supplies in the area. She had a decent idea of what she was facing. She hoped it showed. By the time she had spread out her design of the first medium cabin to be built in a stand of pines, near enough to the stream to hear the burbling water on a quiet night, but not close enough to pollute the water, and the second near the proposed play area, she was sure she had all of them in her corner. Well, all except Baylor.
The more she talked, the more questions she answered, the more confident she felt she had sold herself and her ideas to the others, the more Baylor seemed to scowl. She wondered how much influence he had on the group as a whole.
By the time KayLee was almost finished, it seemed as if the sun should be setting, but only about an hour and a half had passed. She hoped what she had to offer next would make even Baylor sit up and smile.
“I know you all want this project started as soon as possible, and I can arrange my schedule to accommodate an immediate launch if you should choose to go with these designs.”
She scanned each Doyle. Evvy and Curtis were the image of warmth and receptivity. The younger husband-and-wife teams held hands and expressions of approval. KayLee gave in to a small shiver of excitement. This was the first real hope she’d had since the accident that had taken her husband.
And then her gaze landed on Baylor.
He sat, arms crossed over his big chest, chin tucked, forehead creased. He had asked many questions, grilled her was more like it, and she’d met every query with knowledge and conviction. She wondered what he doubted now.
The senior Mr. Doyle looked up from the written proposal. “You have been very thorough, Ms. Morgan,” he said as he squeezed his wife’s hand.
“I like the play area for the children.” Amy smiled at her husband with hope and love. They must be parents to one or more of the giggling and chattering young voices she heard coming from another room.
“What would we be talking about as far as a time frame for completion of the first two cabins?” Evvy asked.
“I’ll have a better idea of that when we have materials and workers on hand, but with ideal conditions, the middle of summer would not be out of the question.”
They all leaned in a bit toward Baylor.
He leaned in as well and folded his hands over the papers on his lap.
“It has been nice meeting you, Ms. Morgan. Thank you for putting so much work into your proposal. We have your card if we have any further questions.” Baylor’s words were polite, even regretful sounding, but she read body language well enough to clearly read “thanks, but no thanks.”
A shock wave of failure overtook her. She hadn’t expected a go-ahead, but she hadn’t expected outright rejection, either. She knew getting accepted or declined was a combination of personality, design and dollars, but Baylor Doyle didn’t even want to give her a chance. He clearly had the power of decision here and she supposed there must be a family reason for that.
She pushed to her feet, rebalancing her weight carefully.
Curtis rose from his seat and so did everyone else.
“You’ve given us a lot to consider with your proposal. What we’re going to have to do now is to talk among ourselves.” The patriarch’s words seemed to abate the finality of Baylor’s pronouncement, but not by much.
Evvy gave her a warm smile. KayLee suspected Evvy was kind to everyone, even a rejected designer. “Your plans are elegant and resourceful, KayLee. You won’t be heading for home yet today, will you?”
Home? She almost laughed. She didn’t have a home.
“I’ve got a room at the inn in town. I thought I’d get a good night’s sleep and I’ve always wanted to get to know Montana better.” Oh, blab and dither. Stay professional. “Anyway, thank you so much for the opportunity to share my ideas with you. It’s been a pleasure. I hope to hear from you soon.”
She gathered her bag and the papers she would need, leaving her proposal and credential information for the Doyles, hoping she had a reason to stay in town and not flee back to…where?
Well, she was competent and strong. She’d find something, if not here, somewhere else. That was her anthem and her prayer, and she was sticking to it.
“Anyone in town will help you with whatever you need.” Amy’s tone seemed to offer an apology for the group, and her smile their regret.
Her husband, Seth, put a hand on Amy’s waist and nodded his agreement. “If you need anything, you can call out here, too.”
They truly were good people and from what Mr. Doyle had said, when completed, this project needed to boost the ranch’s income, not be a drain on it. Besides cattle and summer cabins, KayLee wondered what income ranches in Montana used to stay afloat.
She really didn’t know as much as she thought about the area where she proposed to work.
Her inadequate coat seemed to appear from nowhere and Baylor held it up for her to slip into. When they walked her as a group to the front door, she wanted to grab each one of them and ask what more she could have done. Instead she nodded to each in turn. “Thank you all. You’ve been very kind.”
And then she fled.
When she paused at the bottom of the wooden steps, it seemed as if she were about to leap off with no possibility of knowing if she would ever land, let alone land safely.
She lifted her chin, sucked in a breath of clean Montana air and patted her belly. It’s okay, Baby, she thought, Mama’s got your back.
She stepped into the oblivion called the rest of her life.

AFTER K. L. MORGAN DROVE away in her tiny blue Ford, Baylor herded the rest of his family back to the den. Though they had come docilely enough, none took their seats.
Standing was a better fighting position.
He shoved the hair away from his face, leaned forward and placed his hands on the back of an upholstered chair. Deliberately, silently, he held the gaze of each one of them. When none of them so much as blinked, he spoke quietly. “Have you all gone nuts? Did you all not notice K. L. Morgan is pregnant? I’m only a good judge of cows and horses, but I’d say very.”
“And you’d hold that against her?” Amy challenged as she moved over to stand next to his mother and Holly.
“I think you know me better than that, but we need someone who can get the whole job done and get started yesterday.”
“She can do the job, Bay,” Holly said as she approached him, Amy and his mother at her side. “And she said she could start right away.”
“I don’t doubt she believes she can start this job. She might even believe she can get it done, but that doesn’t make it so.” Baylor took a seat on one of the couches, but none of them followed his lead.
“She graduated from the School of Architecture and Urban Planning at UCLA and she presents herself nicely.” His mother gave him a benign mother smile when she spoke. “And her bid was lower than any one else’s.”
His sisters-in-law glared at him and his father and two brothers were in a tight knot, no doubt trying to figure out how to handle him. Just why he needed handling, he had no idea. They all knew that every single one of their futures rested on this project. He had promised himself and all of them, he’d see to the development of the Shadow Range Eco Ranch, and he was fairly certain K. L. Morgan was not going to be part of that promise.
Now they formed a semicircle around him with arms crossed over their chests, except his mother. She had picked up a stack of papers from the coffee table.
“And what about the baby’s father?” Baylor asked.

CHAPTER TWO
“SHE GOT HERE BEFORE you got a chance to read the background report on her.” Baylor’s father pointed to the stack of papers his mother held. “You should read the information before you make any decisions.”
What could possibly be in the report? Something that would make K. L. Morgan less pregnant? The pleading on the faces of the women and the blank I’m-not-moving-an-inch looks on the faces of the men made it pretty mandatory he at least take a careful look.
“I’ve obviously missed something big,” Baylor said as he took the report and straightened it—as if his mother would let anything be messy, “because you people have all but given her the nod for the work.”
“We thought you’d be happy when you found out she could start straight away.” Lance stated what must have been the family opinion because every one of them nodded. “No one else could offer that. She gets the job underway and you’re out of here.”
“And if she gets the job started and then falters, or doesn’t get the job started at all, that’s a lot of wasted time and money we don’t have.”
“And you’d feel stuck in the valley with the rest of us,” Seth said, following up Lance’s defense.
Baylor took a patient breath. “We might none of us be ‘stuck’ in this valley. This ranch has to make enough money to pay the bills.”
“I could work more at the attorney’s office,” Holly volunteered.
“And I could go back to the diner.” Amy glanced at her sister-in-law.
“If it comes to that—” Lance started.
Baylor looked up at all of them from the couch and held up a hand. “Wait, just wait. We’ve been through this more than once. With everyone here working as much as they do on the ranch, we’re already falling behind on the work that needs to be done.” They needed to get the calving finished and the shed in good repair for the following spring, the branding had just started, the barn needed a new roof, there was a lot of fence to ride before the cattle could be moved and the new stock had to be integrated into the herd when it arrived. There wasn’t an end to the list, but they all loved it. “Trey needs you, Amy. And, Holly, the more hours you put in off the ranch, the more we’ll have to replace you here.”
“What about me?”
Baylor shook his head at his mother. “Mom, even if you hadn’t just had your knee replaced, I’m sorry, but there aren’t jobs in this valley big enough to bail out the ranch. If we get this project going with the livestock and the lumber, we can pay off debt and provide a decent living for all of you. And then maybe there’ll be Doyles on the Shadow Range for another hundred and twenty-five years.”
“We hear what you’re saying, Baylor, and we’re not afraid to look the truth in the face anymore, thanks to you,” Lance said as he took Holly’s hand. “And we think this woman is what we need to get the project up and running.”
“How does she plan on doing that? How long will it be until she can’t even make the trip here?”
“We think she plans on living in the valley during the project, instead of commuting,” Lance continued. “That gives us her constant attention during the whole thing.”
“She plans on living here?”
There were several nods.
“Why would she do that? Isn’t there a husband or at least a man who cares about his baby involved in that decision?”
“She moved out of her home two weeks ago and she’s been staying in a motel since,” Holly said as she tugged a strand of her long red hair.
“And you’re all dodging the topic of the baby’s father. Why?”
“Six months ago, her husband died unexpectedly,” his mother said in a gentle tone.
“And you’ll soon find out, it was a week after he had moved out of their home,” Holly added.
He tried not to glare at the bunch of them. “She loses her home and her baby’s father, so you think we should give her a place in this valley? Why don’t we throw in a family, too?”
They had the presence of mind not to snicker at that one. It would please them all if he thought this valley was a place to have a life and a family and not a place to flee from.
“Bay, she needs us and we need her. There’s a match meant to be here.” His mother took a seat beside him as she spoke and patted his knotted forearm.
“What about the rest of her client list?” Baylor asked.
“We’re it right now. The whole kit ’n’ caboodle,” Seth said as he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and rocked back on the heels of his boots.
“I have to ask you again, are you people nuts?”
Amy stepped forward. “Baylor, Holly and I were talking and we knew you’d be concerned, but we can tell you having a baby isn’t any sort of disability. Holly helped birth a calf three days after Matthew was born.”
“We also suspect,” Holly said as she stepped up beside her sister by marriage, “one of the reasons you want out of this valley so badly is you don’t want to bring a wife and a family into this situation, to put more strain on the ranch.”
Holly was mistaken about his reasons for leaving, but he wasn’t going into that right now.
“You know we’re behind you, Baylor,” Amy added. “No matter what you decide.”
Baylor let his hands relax on his thighs. “I’m not sure there’s a third woman in the world like you two—”
“Baylor, you’re full of crap,” Seth said.
“No language like that in my house, please,” Evvy Doyle insisted. They might wade in the muck on a regular basis, but that didn’t mean they were uncivilized.
Baylor glared at his brother as he continued. “But someone has to think of what’s best for all of us. You all chose me for that.”
Lance, always the peacemaker between his two younger brothers, gave a conciliatory wave. “So, do we call her and tell her she has the job or do we wait a day or two so she doesn’t think we’re too eager?”
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” Baylor waved both hands in the air. “If she has nothing, then why—”
His father interrupted. “When her husband died six months ago, he owed a lot of money.”
“And two weeks ago they threw her out of her home.” Amy tapped in what should have been another nail in the coffin of failure for K. L. Morgan and Associates.
But all faces looked, if not hopeful, at least mulish.
“This is even worse.” Baylor put his hands behind his head and glared at each one of them in turn, except his mother. He hadn’t been able to give her impatience since he was in middle school and he was old enough to know she would never harm a fly. “We’re going to bail her out after she made too many bad choices in her life.”
“It was more like bad luck.” Lance defended her in the name of peace and harmony, of course.
“She seemed to be playing straight with us. Her proposal is more along the lines with what we wanted and she thinks she can bring the project in under the costs of all the others.” This was his father again.
“Have any of you checked these references closely?” Baylor asked as he studied each member of his family again.
Evvy extracted a folder from a stack of papers, spread out several glossy prints on the coffee table and handed him a list of names and contact information. “We called them all. They had nothing but praise.”
Baylor examined the list and then each photo. They all were impressive. He had thought that the first time he went through them. There were individual homes, and two concept communities, but there was one problem. “You know there is a big gap in her work résumé.”
“She apparently let the business slide early on in her marriage,” Seth said. “But before that…”
“And she wants to relaunch with us?”
“Baylor, worst case, what if she can’t do it?” Holly asked.
“More of us leave the valley than just me, and soon.” Baylor’s blunt response made the group go quiet.
With no one speaking, the children could be heard playing in the back of the house. His brothers had three children between them. The neighboring ranch had lent their housekeeper to see to the little ones so all the family members could be present for the meeting and not be distracted.
His family was right about one thing. K. L. Morgan was the lowest bidder and that was another reason he wanted to eliminate her. You get what you pay for. Could they afford the lowest bidder? Would it all fall apart before it was completed or collapse in the middle of a stormy night?
Yet she had covered as much and, in some cases, more than the other designers and contractors had covered in their proposals. As far as he could tell, her plans were impeccable.
There was one thing about KayLee Morgan the others did not offer and Baylor was somewhat uncomfortable admitting it even to himself. The woman was hot, hotter than this valley had ever seen—and he suspected she was that way before pregnancy made her curves so seductive.
“She is the most convincing candidate, Bay, and we need her.” Lance took his stand. “But, most of all, we need you on our side.”
On their side. Ultimately, if Baylor fought hard enough, the decision would be entirely up to him. They had paid dearly in hard-earned cash they could have spent on themselves, but instead they gave him a university education. They sent him out to gather the collective know-how of ranchers and farmers all over the country and bring it back to the Shadow Range. Now their livelihood depended on his being good enough to make the right move.
He helped his mother up from the couch, and she followed him as he left the room with the paperwork in his hand.
“Did you find out anything about your sister?”
Baylor felt the sharpness of the pain in his mother’s voice and shook his head.
He stopped and hugged her. At times like this he wondered how she withstood the pressure of her life. He knew she’d take the blows for each of her children and grandchildren if she could.

KAYLEE HAD TRULY BELIEVED she had a shot this time. When tears she couldn’t stop filled her eyes, she steered the car off the road and shut off the engine. Crying on mountain roads didn’t seem all that smart.
The off-road parking spot had to have been put there for the view, so when the tears passed and since she had no idea what to do next, she viewed.
She stared out at scenery so stunning it almost made her brain hurt. Mountain peaks soared in the distance. The midafternoon sun danced in sparkles off the melting snow around her car. The tops of tall pine trees peeked out from the deep canyon beside the road, and water burbled down from the rock face that shot straight up on the other side of the car.
She shifted her gaze down to the lump where her lap used to be and put both hands on her swollen belly. “I am so sorry, my little peanut. Mommy had great hopes for this gig.”
She’d spend the night at the Easy Breezy Inn because she’d already paid for and used the room at the only motel in town. Tomorrow, she could head for her mother’s home in Wisconsin. Her mother always said “Anything I can do to help, dear” and always found a reason not to. If KayLee showed up on her doorstep, even her mother might take her in for a week or two until KayLee got a job.
And she’d get a job. She was actually a sane, competent person who was a bit emotional these days. She’d take a firm hold of herself and put things together so they made sense. She always had before and she’d do it again even if that meant leaning on her reluctant mother for a bit.
If her mother wasn’t in a hut on Bali or sharing a rustic villa in the south of France with a couple dozen hippie wannabes, several dogs and maybe her ex-husband.
She took out her mobile phone to see if she could find her mother.
“No bars.” She patted her belly. “It’s us two, baby, baby. As usual.”
The warm sunshine bathed her and relaxed her. She had only driven a few hours this morning to get to St. Adelbert from Missoula for the early afternoon appointment with the Doyle family, but she was so tired. She felt as if she had driven the entire route from Southern California in one day, from the old motel in Ocean-side to be exact.
The motel where she had taken refuge after losing her home was located right next to the junkyard, complete with rottweilers and across the street from the re-sale shop where she was lucky enough to find maternity clothes. She hadn’t been able to afford a motel in the fancy community of La Jolla, where she had shared a home with her husband.
Chad. Handsome. Crazy in a fun wild way. A genius. And why did he have to die without meeting his child? He might have been able to love their baby someday, even if he hadn’t been able to love the baby’s mother for a long time.
She leaned over the steering wheel, put her forehead on her clasped hands and closed her eyes against the hurt.

BAYLOR MOUNTED BLUE MOON, his American Paint Horse, and rode past the barn and deeper into the ranch, down the half-rutted, half-muddy road into the pine forest. He had read all the information gathered on K. L. Morgan and carefully reread the proposal she had left behind. He had spoken with family members individually about what they thought and why. He still had no clear idea of what to do, but he’d always found the best place on the ranch to think was on horseback.
He nudged Blue Moon forward and, when he came to the break in the trees, headed out onto the meadow and let his thoughts and the horse wander.
The Paint chose to meander down toward the stream, and Baylor’s mind came up with full, rosy pink lips below a straight nose, flanked by flushing high cheekbones and long dark blond hair, begging to be picked up and rubbed between finger and thumb.
Baylor fisted the hand that had started to act as if it were feeling her silky hair, and it would be silky.
There was scant room for debate. K. L. Morgan was sexy. Her round curves pressing against the blue dress had captivated him.
He did like the idea of having the buck-stops-here person in the valley overseeing the job full-time. If everything went well, she could have the project up and running in a couple of weeks and he could be gone from the valley sooner rather than later.
The opportunity he’d been offered overseeing several ranches outside of Denver, and outside of this confining corner of Montana, wasn’t going to keep forever. He could live in Denver and keep his Paint at one of the ranches he was overseeing.
He knew he never wanted to leave the ranch life completely behind. Ranching was what he lived and breathed. He couldn’t even imagine himself in a nine-to-five job, but the St. Adelbert Valley offered nothing new, nothing innovative, nothing to catch his interest. He’d wanted out for as long as he could remember.
And he could, without alerting or in some cases alarming his family, try to find Crystal.
J&J Holdings, LLC, had said they’d hold the position for him for sixty days. Nearly half of that time had already passed while they continued the search for someone willing and able to help them build the Shadow Range Eco Ranch at a price they might be able to afford.
The person or persons hired would alter the family homestead forever and ran the risk of destroying the way of life for many generations of Doyles. The decision of whom to hire could not be made on the basis of the looks or the need of the candidate.
With a kernel of an idea, he headed his Paint back toward the barn.

A SHARP RAP ON THE WINDOW beside KayLee’s head woke her, and—FCOL—she almost wet her pants. She snapped her head up to see a man in a sheriff’s uniform standing outside her car with one hand resting on his holstered gun.
No…no crying out loud or crying at all because now she was going to be thrown out of the county at gun-point for loitering and maybe even all the way out of the state, if the size of the sheriff determined how far he’d toss her.
Did they throw you out for loitering in Montana?
She tried desperately to clear her brain of the sleep fog and lowered her window.
“Ma’am. Are you okay?” The big man blocked the late afternoon sun so she didn’t have to squint at him.
Late afternoon! No wonder she needed to find a restroom so badly.
KayLee unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I think I’m okay, Sheriff Potts,” she said, reading the name off his name tag.
She took inventory. She must have been asleep for at least a couple of hours.
“Ms. Morgan, there are some people looking for you.”
“You know who I am? Of course.” She at least still owned the car she drove.
He waited politely for her to wake up some more.
Wait… Some people? “Some people?” Oh, God. Chad’s creditors had found her. No. They had already taken everything they could. She was finished with them, at least that’s what her attorney had said. “Some people. Who?”
He smiled in at her. A smile was good. A confident smile.
“The Doyle family,” he said in a voice she figured could echo through the canyons if he wanted it to.
“Oh, them.” Her shoulders sagged, followed by her whole body. At least with the bill collectors it hadn’t been personal. With the Doyles it seemed very much so.
“Are you sure you’re all right, ma’am?”
“I’m fine. I’m— I was resting.” And she’d been rebuffed enough for today.
“Baylor Doyle asked me to keep an eye out for you. He thought you were headed for the Easy Breezy and when you didn’t show up, the Doyles got worried.”
The Easy Breezy Inn, small and old, fit her budget and since her home was the pillow in her trunk…. The Doyles most likely wanted to tell her to keep on driving, don’t bother to stop in town. She’d get their message when she got bars.
“Well, Sheriff, I thought I’d get to pretend for a while longer that they still wanted to hire me.” Why was she talking to this guy as if he were her best bud, her BFF in LaLa Land-speak? He wouldn’t care if she got a job in this valley or not. Ha, she might never see him again in her life. BFF.
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she blubbered right there, sitting in her car, in front of Montana law, because she didn’t even have a best friend west of the Mississippi River, ’cause she was sure Addis Ababa, where her only friend was currently working on an indie film, was considered east.
Oh, she loved these hormones. They gave her permission to feel anything she wanted to feel and right now she wanted to feel sorry for herself.
The sheriff towered over her, arms folded over his chest, somehow seeming more friendly than threatening. It seemed they all did the arms-over-the-chest thing here in Montana. Well at least he’d let go of his gun.
And he was patient enough to wait while she cried.
“I’ll—I’ll move on in a few minutes, Sheriff. When the falling water is all on the outside of my car.” She pointed lamely at the water dribbling down the rocks.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Got any job openings?” She rubbed her fingers across her wet cheeks.
“You should give Baylor a call.”
She pointed at her phone and made a zero with her fingers. “Nada.”
“Go back to the ranch.”
“I really have had enough rejection for the day.” Buddy. Pal. BFF. God save her, she was an idiot.
“You might be done with that.”
“What? What are you saying, and if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, how do you know?”
He laughed at her. She’d laugh at her, too, if she still remembered how.
“Baylor said he needed to talk to you before you got away. The Doyle family has apparently come to a decision.”
“He told you that? Why? Is he your nephew or something, I mean why would he tell you?”
“He’s a friend. Most people in the valley are.”
“Wow. A valley full of friends. Just like California, huh. I’m sorry. That must have sounded sarcastic…mean.” But most of her friends in California had been like temporary tattoos. The one friend she had left was out of the country on a movie shoot and the rest had stuck around only as long as conditions were exactly right and then they quickly faded. “Wait! He wants me. I mean, do you think the Doyle family want to hire me to do the job?”
The sheriff laughed again. “At least you’re not crying anymore.”
She felt her cheeks. Dry. “Oh, thank God about that. I’m a bit pregnant and I— Wait. I’m a lot pregnant.” She patted her belly and he nodded. “And I’m a lot influenced by the hormones and nobody tells you the half of it. Sorry—again—to go on. See Baylor Doyle, you say.”
“Yep.”
“Should I be scared? Is there anything scary about that family? There are so many of them.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You have a good day now, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Potts. Potts, right?”
He touched his index finger to the brim of his cowboy sheriff’s hat.
“Goodbye. I hope you have a great day, Sheriff.”
“You, too, ma’am.” He nodded this time and turned away.
The sheriff got in his car and sped away. He most likely had cattle rustlers and varmints to catch. Did they still rustle cattle? The world was full of varmints, she could attest to that. Though in Southern California they called them celebrities and star-makers, and even producers if overborrowing, then dying and leaving your wife with the bills and a baby on the way makes you a varmint.
She leaned back against the headrest, but her head popped up immediately. She really did need to find a bathroom.
Which way? Town or the ranch?
Breathe deeply.
Think kind and peaceful thoughts. She was a sane, competent person. She rested her head back and took several long breaths. And all that did was make her have to pee more.
Oh, hell, what did she have to lose?
She started her car and headed back the way she had come a couple hours ago. The ranch had to be closer. Funny, her poor squashed bladder was going to determine her future.
Go. Go. Speed limit. Okay, maybe a bit faster than the speed limit. Besides the sheriff had gone the other way.
She sped down the highway and then up the lane to the Shadow Range ranch house with, she was sure, streaks of mud spraying out from behind her rear tires. Then she leaped out of the car as fluidly as a seven-months-pregnant woman who badly needed a powder-room fix could leap.
“Please, please, please, let me make it,” she prayed as she hugged her coat around her, covered the ground from her car quickly and hobbled up the steps.
Rap. Rap. Rap.
The door popped open and Baylor Doyle stood there holding a stack of papers. He gaped at her.
“Let me in.” She barged past him. “Which way? Which way?”
Was the man really as dull as his expression?
Holly appeared, glanced at her for a half a second. “That way. First door on your left.”
Gales of Holly’s laughter followed her down the hallway, and she soon heard Amy join in, too. She knew, given half a chance, she could love those women dearly.
She flipped on the powder-room light and found porcelain bliss.

BAYLOR EYED HIS GIGGLING sisters-in-law. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”
“No,” they howled together and then mercifully stumbled off down the hallway, holding each other upright as best they could.
Baylor shook his head and continued to the office, where he had been headed before the person who might be occupying his short-term future pounded on the door and, wild-eyed and sexy, ran on in.
In the office, he found Lance sitting on the edge of the desk waiting for him. His oldest brother shifted to the “visitor” chair as Baylor dropped the stack of papers in the middle of the blotter and sat down in the chair behind the desk.
“Have you decided our fate yet?” Lance asked when Baylor laced his fingers together, rested his hands on the stack of papers and leaned in to study his dark-haired brother.

CHAPTER THREE
BAYLOR GAVE HIS BROTHER a long stare. “We can’t hire her because she needs a job,” he said. Or because she’s good-looking, he thought.
“We can’t afford to turn a good option down for the same reason,” Lance drawled.
Baylor nodded and wondered if his brother knew the rest of his thoughts on KayLee Morgan.
“Two weeks,” Baylor said. “We’ll give her two weeks. That should be enough time to make a final decision.”
Seth approached, leaned on the doorjamb and gazed between Baylor and Lance. “She was good at facing us all like that and holding her own, answering all our questions.”
Lance snorted softly. “She seemed to look forward to the next question, like she’d be easy to work with.”
“Eager at least,” Seth added.
“Eager’s a great quality,” Baylor acknowledged to his brothers. “But it’s not enough. The first guy we interviewed was eager, and we know how that ended.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out he was a crook, but you’re not putting KayLee in the crook category.”
“No, but I’m the one who’s going to be doing most of the work with her.”
“And you’ll be able to keep a close eye on her.” Seth flicked his eyebrows at Baylor and smirked toward Lance.
Lance grinned, but shook his head to silence Seth. They both knew. This wasn’t going to be easy no matter how it went down.
“This is business, guys. No matter what we think of her as an individual, it has to be a business deal. When the project is complete, you all can adopt her if you want.” He wouldn’t care. He’d be gone.
“We’ll have to trust you to give her a fair chance.” Seth must have been finished because he walked away.
Lance stared at Baylor for a response.
“It might not even be fair to give her a chance.” Baylor restacked the papers on the desk blotter.
“She’s good people, Baylor, and you know it.”
“And if we give her a two-week trial and she fails, it might spoil her chance of getting a job before her baby is born.”
“She’ll do a good job and we’ll keep her on.”
“If I didn’t think you had a chance of being right, I wouldn’t have called her back.”
Lance nodded, got up from the chair and followed in the direction Seth had gone. His boot heels clomped down the hall, through the mudroom and outside. His brothers had gone back to the never-ending string of chores necessary to keep a ranch running and the animals healthy.
Baylor spread the papers and sorted them into piles for filing. Now that he had made the decision, he was going to throw himself at the situation as if it were a worthy stallion needing some tender loving care to be a great stallion. Not that “tender loving” was anything he planned on aiming at K. L. Morgan.
Tempting, though.
Tempting. That was crazy thinking. If he let crazy thinking rule him, unintended consequences happened.
He had finished tucking away the last papers when he looked up to see K. L. Morgan standing in the doorway with her flimsy coat draped over one arm and her hands folded together in front of her as if in apology.
He rose quickly from the chair and made a gruff coughing sound to cover his laughter at his sorry old self.
“Come in,” he said when she didn’t enter the office.
She stepped inside. “I ruined whatever chance I had at making a great impression, didn’t I?”
He hadn’t realized how melodious her voice was, but in the small office, it made the air vibrate.
“Is your life ever dull?”
She shrugged and stepped up to the desk. “You’ll undoubtedly find out, so I might as well tell you, I met your Sheriff Potts.”
Baylor studied the molding around the ceiling, trying his best to bury a smile. Unintended consequences, he thought. “He called.”
“I’d hoped he wouldn’t snitch on me. Damn.”
He snapped his gaze to hers. “Don’t let my mother hear you say that word. Darn and heck are all right if you’re highly provoked, but damn, hell and crap are over the top. Have a seat, please.”
Radiating confidence and poise, she draped her coat over the back of the chair and sat down across the desk from him. He couldn’t deny his brother’s assessment that K. L. Morgan inspired admiration for her courage under fire—but that didn’t mean he had to be taken in by it. He scowled and retook his seat.
“Oh, darn.” She raised her brow in question.
He gave a slight head nod of approval and she curled her hands together on her lap. “How much did the sheriff tell you?”
“He said he found you and we should be expecting you soon.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And then he laughed.”
“How did he know I was coming here? I don’t remember telling him.” She thought for a moment. “When he left, I didn’t even know.”
“He knows people. That’s why he’s so good at his job and that’s a reflection on our judgment as well as yours.” He paused. He was about to tell this woman she could hold the family’s future in her hands, and Sheriff Potts’s positive assessment of her had made that decision easier to live with.
“He is so kind to just have laughed at me.” She studied her fingers for a moment. “Is it too late to start over?”
“Do you think it would help?”
Alarm spread across her face, and then when she realized he was chiding her, she smiled a smile as bright as a sunny day in the Bitterroot Mountains, and he felt that smile all the way down to the toes of his Sunday boots.
She relaxed her hands on her knees. “I think at this point, it would only muddy the waters.”
“My family thinks you’re the best choice for this project.”
“Okay.” She waited for him to explain.
“But they’ve left the choice up to me.”
“I realize I’m not what you expected and that it’s a stretch for you to consider me for the job, but if you do give it to me, I will give you more than you asked for.”
More than he asked for…
“I’m willing to go along with my family and give you a chance.” She sat up straighter and he continued. “Two weeks. After two weeks, if things aren’t working out, you would be paid for your time and, of course, we’d pay you for your designs.”
He watched her closely.
“You won’t be sorry.” Her words indicated her delight while her face showed her focus on the future.
“That’s what my family tells me.”
She nodded her head once. “Now tell me why your family puts so much stock in your opinion.”
Her green eyes, the color of leaves in the light of sunset and rimmed with dark lashes, were highlighted by the merest touch of makeup.
“Because I’m the youngest brother?”
She nodded again.
“Fair enough.” The Doyles knew so much more about her than she suspected. It seemed right she should know more about them. “My older brothers wanted no part of college. They were happy working the ranch and their wives were happy with their husbands and their lives. My parents could read the writing on the wall, but my brothers would rather ignore the signs the ranch was faltering.”
She listened as though she were gathering facts without passing judgment. He found himself liking KayLee Morgan more and more, at the same time telling himself it wasn’t his job to like her.
As he told her about his family sending him to Montana State University in Bozeman and why, she barely blinked.
“Wow,” she said when he was finished.
Her lips held the form of the last W as she explored the thoughts in her head, and it made him want to kiss those puckered lips—and to smack himself on the back of the head for thinking such a thought.
“So do you still want to work for us?”
“They have put a lot on you.” Deep concern dimmed the sparkle in her eyes.
“Someone has to take the reins and I can.”
She placed her palms on her knees and leaned forward. “Yes, I’d still like to do the job.”
He reached across the desk with one hand and when she put her soft hand in his, she gripped solidly.
“Welcome to the Shadow Range Eco Ranch project,” he said, and found himself sincerely meaning it.
Either he was a step closer to his dream and his quest, or he’d chased them out onto the far horizon. Whatever happened, he found himself wanting her to succeed for herself, as well as each and every Doyle.
“Now tell me what you think,” she said as she let go of his hand and sat back in the chair.
Baylor shifted. Tell her what he thought? That she’s hot or that he was already in trouble because he was beginning to see why his family wanted to hire and protect her?
“I like to think I’m an open-minded kind of person. I admit, your—”
“Pregnancy, sex, age?” She grinned.
“Once I realized you couldn’t be as young as you look, that was not even a consideration.
“As for your being female, you’ve met Holly, Amy and my mother and…they don’t balk at much.” An image of his missing sister pushed into his thoughts. She had one of her defiant looks on her face and her hands were balled into offensive fists. “And they’re tame compared to my sister, Crystal.”
He could see KayLee wanted to ask about Crystal, but he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet because he had nothing of substance to say. So he hurried on. “Your proposal offers the most support and oversight—with the possible exception of a period of time when you will be otherwise occupied. If you are as good as you say you are, I expect this job will go well.”
She gave a heavy sigh of relief and a warm smile that a part of him wanted to interpret as sexy.
“I expect the same. If I could, I’d like to look around a bit, see the place I proposed the first cabin be built.”
“Now?”
“The sun shines. Isn’t that when I’m supposed to make hay?”
K. L. Morgan kept surprising him with her understanding of the situation. She might work out better, though, if he could pretend she was the mid-forties man he had expected.
“Do you have warmer clothes?” he asked.
She glanced down at her blue dress. “I have different clothes. Warmer, probably not.”
“Boots?”
She lifted a foot with a shoe meant for a city street. “This is the best I’ve got. The boots I have are not the sort you’re talking about.”
“I’ll find a warmer coat for you and we’ll mostly stay in the truck.”
“Do you think Holly and Amy might be willing to advise me on wardrobe shopping?”
“I think Holly and Amy would do anything you asked them to do.”
She blinked at him as if she were having a hard time believing what he said.
“KayLee, this is the St. Adelbert Valley. The Doyle women probably already have a place in mind for you to live, a trip to Kalispell for supplies planned and a crib to lend you. Believe it or not, you have already won the esteem of our sheriff. Most of the people here in this valley will need no more than that to welcome you and offer you whatever help they can give you.”
She studied her fingers for a long moment and then shifted her scrutiny to him. “I knew I wasn’t in California anymore.”
“This will sound like some sort of a threat, and it could be. With the exception of a few ornery ones, the people here will believe in you quickly and be loyal.”
“Accept me first, and I get to decide whether or not I break their hearts? Warning taken. I’ll be careful with them.”
He nodded. “I’ll get you a coat.”
Baylor escaped the office and headed down the hallway toward the mudroom, which was located at the side entrance to the house.
Was that tears he had seen in her eyes? Give him a couple cows having difficult calvings and a runaway mule. Those things he could handle.
He searched the closet for a coat that was big enough to fit around KayLee, but the first two he considered would have swallowed her up.
Now that he had made the decision to hire her, even if it was temporary, he’d do what he could himself to help her. The two of them could finalize the plans, scout out materials and hire laborers. There were locals chomping at the bit to have gainful employment. Calving was nearly at an end, branding and spring clean up would soon be under control, and there would more idle hands around.
The job in Denver was a chance of a lifetime, a stepping-off point to launch him in the world outside the small valley where he’d spent most of his life. If K. L. Morgan could get this job done, she could set him free. He held up a green kid’s jacket. He was getting closer.
If she couldn’t get the job done, she could end up tying him to this valley until the next chance of a lifetime came up. Yep, two once-in-a-lifetime chances. As if that were going to happen.
The lead he had on Crystal hadn’t panned out yesterday, but that didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t. She was in Denver—that much he knew.
“How about this one?” Holly reached around him and pulled out a work jacket. “I wore it when I was pregnant with Katie about this time two years ago.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t even want to guess how she knew what he was searching for in the closet. Made him crazy when he tried to figure things like that out about Holly and Amy.
“So, is she in or out?” his dad asked from the doorway of the mudroom.
“She gets a chance to try, and she wants a look around.”
“Yippee!” Holly clapped her hands together once and sped away, no doubt off to tell the others.
“You don’t seem thrilled,” his dad said when Holly was out of earshot.
Baylor shrugged. “I’ll keep thrilled corralled up until we see how things go.”
“Fair ’nough.”

KAYLEE SLUMPED IN THE CHAIR. She should feel excited about this job, ecstatic even. All she felt right now was scared. She’d just promised to make a future for these people. This was more personal than any of the California projects had been. The good feelings must be on their way later.
She’d had things all mapped out in her mind even before she got here. She’d come to the valley, do the job, have a safe and snug place to raise her child for the first year or so, then move on and build her company…probably back in California.
Things had gotten complicated right off the bat, starting with the warm and fuzzy feelings she already had growing inside her regarding the people who lived in and around the town of St. Adelbert. The people at the Easy Breezy Inn had given her a room at ten o’clock in the morning without charging extra, so she could freshen up for her interview with the Doyle family. The gas station attendant at the self-service station had insisted on pumping her gas and washing her bug-spattered windshield and headlamps. That guy—Barry, he called himself—had worked really hard on those dried bugs.
Everyone here was eerily nice.
That gave her pause. Were they too nice? What if they were part of a cult or aliens from outer space?
Whoa! She stopped herself from thinking wild movie-making fantasies.
Worse, however, what if the time came for her to leave, and she still had no place to go, no prospective home? She could do it to her pregnant self, but could she force the itinerant life on a child?
And what if she didn’t want to leave the valley at all?
It had been easy letting go of California. When her husband died, her life there had simply evaporated.
She should have made better choices. One of their so-called friends had even accused her of being responsible for Chad’s death.
What if it had been her fault Chad was unhappy and, who knows, that he’d had a boating accident? She couldn’t really fault that friend too much. Some days she blamed herself.
“I’ll be everything you need.” She stroked her belly and let herself feel the joy and peace her child brought to mind.
Baylor appeared holding a practical, warm-looking jacket. She hoped he hadn’t overheard her. He already had enough doubts.
The heavy work jacket he held suspended on the tip of one finger summed everything up. The jacket was nothing she would have ever given a second look at when she lived in California.
Her life was never going to be the same.
When Baylor smiled at her, even though it was a reluctant smile, she found herself wanting to leap up and run into his arms…but she was so not flinging herself into anyone’s arms. It wasn’t going to happen, wasn’t even a good idea. She and Chad had flung themselves at each other and look where that got her.
“Hey.” She pointed at the jacket and put on a cheery face. “That seems as if it will do the trick.”
He held the jacket for her and she slipped inside its warmth. “Hmmm. This feels nice.”
“’Bout the time you get used to the cold, the weather will change and you’ll be wishing to have it back.” He gave her a serious if-you-stick-around-long-enough look.
She’d get used to the weather, or at least, he’d never know about it if she didn’t. All he was going to see from now on was the upbeat side of her, the confident side of her she had used in her sales pitch. She hugged the jacket around her and spun in a slow circle, trying to affect comedy. “Ah, if they could see me now.”
Another reluctant smile. He was so trying to be nice to her. “You mean the people in California wouldn’t appreciate your…ah…style?” he asked.
“Style?”
“Because, for the backside of Montana you look purty trendy.”
Yep, she thought, repeating the affirmative she’d already heard more than once in this state. Baylor Doyle was going to give her a chance, a harsh but fair one. Now, if she could live up to his and everyone else’s expectations… She shook off doubt and melancholy before they got a foothold. Upbeat. Stay upbeat.
“Très chic and ready to work.” And she felt better than she’d felt in a long time about anything except her baby, who at that moment seemed to leap to block a soccer goal or something equally emphatic. “Whoa!”
“Are you all right?” Baylor took a step toward her.
She held up one hand up and rubbed her lower ribs with the other. “Nothing to worry about. Sometimes the little one gives me a poke and it takes me by surprise, but I’m great. Better than great. Lead the way.”
He handed her a knitted cap, one like her grandmother might have made for her, with a fluffy yarn ball on top, and then he slid on his hat—a Stetson, that’s what they wore in one of Chad’s movies anyway.
She put on the hat he had given her and tugged it down until it pressed her hair snugly against her ears. Then he led her outside, where she got a spectacular view of the lay of the ranch buildings. To her left and back at the edge of a stand of pine trees sat a pair of log houses. His brothers’ houses, she assumed. Straight in front of her, but farther away, sat a barn and several out-buildings. Beyond the barn she could see corrals where horses were eating from a trough. Farther out were open snow-patched areas of what she supposed were grasslands, and of course, mountain peaks glistened in the distance.
Doyle land spread out beyond fifty-seven hundred acres. After leaving the rich farmland of southwestern Wisconsin that sold by the expensive acre and the precious square footage measured out in inches in Southern California, she wasn’t even sure she could conceptualize that much land owned by one family.
The seven cabins she would build for the Doyles would dovetail nicely with the two already there. Though the new ones would have more glass and decking, the existing ones had the charm of being more weathered and rustic-looking.
A cabins-in-the-woods kind of thing.
When they filled the cabins for the three to four prime months out of the year, they should do well.
“Less than a quarter mile beyond two small houses is where the cabins will be built,” Baylor said after she had spent several minutes gaping. “Ready?”
“Yes, I am.”
Baylor held the passenger-side door and she climbed up into the warmth of the truck. Then he jogged around and jumped in the driver’s side, and when he did, the truck got even warmer inside. Hormones. Had to be hormones.
“Thanks for having the truck so cozy.”
“That would have been one of my brothers, most likely prodded by one wife or the other.”
“I knew I was going to like Amy and Holly.”
“They’re like sisters. It would be a shame for them to have to split up and go separate ways.”
“This project means a lot more than income to your family.”
“It does.”
He took a hard grip on the wheel as he steered away from the big ranch house. “Should I get in my car and run away before I get in to deeply?”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
The brim of his hat shadowed his features and she realized she really knew little about Montana and less about the Doyle family. She might have done it again—rushed into something without enough thought.
I’ll make it work.
“Hey—” she poked him on the hard muscle of his upper arm “—your Sheriff Potts saw me at my worst and he sent me back here instead of running me out of town. Give me a peek at what’s going on, I can take it.”
He nudged his hat back on his forehead as if it would help him think better.
“Ranching doesn’t support families the way it used to. Income has gone down, but more importantly the cost of living has gone up. We’ve been able to keep going because the largest part of the income stays in the family. Mostly we’re our own ranch hands. We hire on during the heaviest part of calving and when it’s time to shift cattle around to different feeding grounds. We let out some logging to a small local company—controlled, environmentally friendly logging that brings in a bit of income.”
“And that’s not enough.” She had asked for the truth and just because it was starting to scare her, she wasn’t going to back away.
“It was as long as there weren’t any kids’ futures to worry about.”
“So you decided to try for the tourist population.”
“We started a few years ago and it’s been popular. We’ve had a waiting list every season. At the Shadow Range we provide several things not everyone else this far out does. Satellite TV and internet, granted both are intermittent depending on the reception, but it’s there enough of the time to satisfy all but some of the teenagers. The houses have electricity, gas and indoor—”
“Plumbing? One of my favorites.”
His grin warmed her, a lot more than it should have.
“Then we have features most people’s homes don’t—fireplaces with an endless supply of wood on the porch, daily wildlife viewing and, although you might hear a train whistle in the distance from time to time, there isn’t even a whisper of highway or freeway traffic. And if you want it, you can have maid service and meals included.”
“Roughing it the way city people like it. I have to tell you, I’m one of them. Give me a good old pillow-top mattress and a dishwasher any day.” But she was finding out in detail she didn’t have to have either of those.
“We add horseback riding, fishing, guided trail walks and trips down the river on pontoon boats.”
She tried to imagine what it would be like to be a guest at the ranch. What would she want? A picture of Baylor and her floating down a lazy river in a pontoon boat resting in each other’s arms popped into her head. Her eyes sprang wide. She sat up and leaned forward as if interested in something outside the window. Talk about whoa.
“What are you looking at?”
“I was wondering…” She paused so she could quickly make something up because she sure as heck wasn’t going to tell him what she was thinking. “Does the nonranching part get to all of you?”
He was silent while he bounced the truck over the uneven road, out beyond where the two smaller houses sat and onto the edge of a small meadow.
“From time to time, but keeping the ranch for everyone’s future is more important than not washing someone’s dirty sheets. And we get to help the poor city folk get a glimpse of what a really rich life is like. You know, dirt under your fingernails, getting stiff from being in a saddle too long, sleeping out under the stars with the snakes.”
“You make it sound as nice here as I imagined it would. I might have to rent out one of the cabins we’re building—but there’d be no snakes for me, please.” She wondered what he’d say if he knew how little she was kidding about renting one of the cabins, reptiles or not.
“The wooded area over there…” He’d stopped the truck, and pointed out into the distance.
“Wait. Where do you put the tourists? Aren’t those two houses for Holly and Amy and their families?”
“In the spring, while Lance and Seth are busy calving and doing ranch work, Holly and Amy are busy packing up to move out of their homes and into the big house. We all live together in the late spring and s ummer. There are seven bedrooms and it’s, well, we’ll call it cozy.”
“It’s good you all like each other. Maybe we should build more cabins to start with and that might give Holly and Amy a break next spring.”
“If we build them all at once, you can invite all your California friends who are looking for a break from the crowd.”
Bam. A reality blast thrown in her face. All her friends?
It was bad enough to know most of her so-called friends had deserted her, but to have to admit it to a stranger—a customer—pointed out a far too dismal future. Blah.

BAYLOR WONDERED WHAT he said that made her face go all long and thoughtful, and then he reminded himself it didn’t matter.
He knew himself well enough to know KayLee Morgan could be dangerous territory. Dangerous because he couldn’t help himself. Rescuing damsels in distress had been his thing since he kept the bullies in grade school from picking on Abby Fairbanks when he was nine and she was twelve. But damsel rescuing had to take a second seat to this business deal. Rescuing this one could put his family’s welfare in jeopardy.
“Over there—” he pointed toward the far side of the meadow “—is where you propose to start the first cabin.”
She leaned closer to the windshield and peered at an isolated stand of pine and larch trees. “Perfect. We’ll need to set down the roads first so the equipment can be moved easily in and out.”
She reached for the door handle.
“Hang on. I’ll drive over and you can get a closer look. It gets muddy out there when the snow melts.”
She nodded. Her expression held a mixture of concentration and excitement. He wondered if he would have gotten that reaction from the other bidders.
Baylor realized she had a hand on her belly. She seemed to be speaking to her baby and that simple gesture made her seem totally invested in the project. At that moment, she seemed more like a partner than a vendor. He wasn’t sure whether that was bad or good.
Bad if it made him lose his objectivity, and good if it made her care more about his family’s future.
Suddenly, she seemed very attractive and not just because she was sexy. He stopped the truck. The heat must have been making him stupid. He needed fresh air and badly.

BAYLOR STOPPED THE TRUCK at the edge of the stream and leaped out, but KayLee climbed down before he could get around to help her. She didn’t need help, she couldn’t allow herself to need help, but she wanted to stand where one of the cabins would be built, feel the site, make sure it was as perfect as she had hoped it would be.
While Baylor rummaged around for something in the toolbox in the bed of the truck, she made her way across the uneven, somewhat icy terrain to the middle of the grouping of ponderosa pine trees. Their sweet scent filled the air and she inhaled deeply and let herself imagine.
She could see a cabin nestled between the largest trees where there was a natural space. There was enough access from the side of the lot away from the stream that only one small sapling might have to be removed to make way for the heavy equipment.
It was the perfect spot for a cabin, a home, her mountain home. She shook her head at the futility of that dream and swiped a rascal tear from the corner of her eye.
“What do you think?” Baylor spoke softly from behind her as if he knew he was intruding on the mood.
Upbeat, that’s all she’d show him, not tears. In fact when she wasn’t pregnant anymore, she vowed to never cry again for any reason.
“It’s perfect,” she said when she was sure her voice wouldn’t squeak or waver. “I’d put the cabin right here, offset from the middle.”
“That’s where me and my brothers would pitch a tent when we wanted a wilderness adventure and our mother thought we were too young to be too far away.”
The sound of his voice drew closer until she could feel the heat of his breath against the back of her neck. KayLee fought a sudden intense craving to have him touch her, put a hand on her waist—well, where she used to have a waist—or put his lips to her neck. Oh, heck and darn. She took a step away.
“This is a special place, and I think a cabin here would be great. We could call it the Whispering Winds Cabin because the wind swishes like a whisper through the pine needles.”
“Maybe not,” he said and chuckled.
“No?” Why not? Why was he laughing? Was he going to squash all her ideas?
He nudged her shoulder with his fingertip to get her attention. “It’s a fine name, but Whispering Winds is the name of the neighbor’s ranch. Thinking of names as you build them is a good idea, though. Cabin one, two, three, et cetera is kind of boring.”
She shifted to look directly into sky-blue eyes that studied her face. She dropped her gaze to keep him from reading her soul.
The sparkle of golden hair in the V of his cream-colored shirt beckoned her with a “come on and touch me.” She wanted to put her fingers in the V and loosen the rest of the buttons so she could press her palms into the middle of that soft hair, feel the ridge of muscle where his pecs bulged. She fought to keep her eyes from moving even lower and then with a hormone-balancing force of will brought her gaze back up to his face.
She smiled and shifted from one foot to the other. “You know…”
“What do I know?” He was amused and not embarrassed by her assessment.
“Besides the obvious handsomeness of your face, speaking from a Hollywood perspective, you have uncommonly nice individual features.”
“A Hollywood perspective?”
“I saw enough of the people my husband cast in films to know a great jaw and a sexy camera-friendly mouth when I see them.”
“Sexy, too?”
She parted her lips to speak again, but stopped when she realized she wanted to ask him to kiss her.
She stepped backward.
Ask him to kiss her? Yeah. That should send him fleeing back to the ranch house, where he could call the sheriff to toss her out of Montana for good.
But he didn’t look upset. He might even look…interested?
Not good.
They were both being silly, not just her.
Worse.
They had known each other only a few hours. She had an excuse—pregnancy.
She tried to put distance between them but he stuck to her side. When in the center of the clearing, she slipped on an icy patch and found the electric touch of his hand on her arm long enough to stabilize her—long enough to make her burn inside and out.
That’s it. A drastic intervention was called for.
“Thank you.” She stuck her hands in the pockets of the jacket. “Okay. All right. I want to be upfront about something so I can keep it from growing out of proportion.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Go on.”
“I’m attracted to you and I want you to know the pregnancy hormones racing around inside of my body are doing that to me. I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice guy who is perfectly attractive to most women.”
“But you aren’t most women?” He stepped closer, she was sure he did that to make her step farther away…and she did. She wanted to skitter away, but she didn’t do skittering very well these days.
“Unfortunately, I am most women, and right now, I could eat you up without even sitting down.”
He grinned. “This is turning out to be a very interesting day.”
“I’m afraid it’s not really me talking.”
“It’s the hormones?”
“Afraid so. I usually have more control than…”
“Than what?”
“I know you’re yanking my chain now, but I’ve been around pretty faces for years and I’ve always been able to keep a lid on feeling anything about any of them, because a pretty face is just that.”
“I’m a pretty face?”
She stepped closer to the stream. “Oh, you are such a pretty face.”
“And you find yourself helplessly attracted to me?” He took another step toward her.
“If you come any closer, I might have to defend all of us from me. I might seem to be a helpless, pregnant thing, but I have to tell you, I’m not.” She drew herself up tall and put fists to her hips to take up as much space as possible.
“Never entered my mind that you were.” He stopped and leaned against a convenient pine tree, letting her put some distance between them. “Helpless in any way.”
“I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I am so much less censored these days, but I thought if I got it out in the open I could enlist your help in keeping me from doing something we’d regret.”
He moved again, stalking unhurriedly toward her like a big cat after prey.
“Darlin’,” he said with an exaggerated drawl, “speak for yourself.”

CHAPTER FOUR
KAYLEE FELT HER MUSCLES tense. She couldn’t budge, even to flee. Baylor approached where she stood by the burbling stream.
Stuff had come tumbling out of her mouth today, stuff that horrified her to hear out loud even if it was the truth.
The big rancher took another deliberate step, concentration suffusing his features.
He was coming—she knew he was—to grab her by the borrowed jacket collar and throw her off the ranch himself. And she’d be lucky if that’s all he did.
He took another step, and then he stopped and threw his head back and laughed.
She did a slow fish-mouthed gape. What the hell—heck—are you laughing at? hung frozen, unspoken, on her tongue.
“KayLee.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hated to be in a position to apologize, but there was nothing for this situation except to beg forgiveness and hope Baylor Doyle had a big…um…heart.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His sincere expression told her he wasn’t joking or being dismissive.
Relief sapped nearly all the energy from her legs. She leaned forward and put her hands on her wobbly knees and then straightened. “I know it’s—I’m so idiotic to…”
“KayLee.” He stopped her with a raised hand. “You will so fit in around here.”
“What?”
“It’s good to know you won’t be horrified by the goings-on at the ranch. There are fewer inhibitions way out here than people think—at least it’s true on this ranch.”
“Uh, it’s not the cow and horse sex is it?”
He made a face as if her words shocked him and laughed again.
She grabbed the sides of her borrowed knit hat and tugged it down until it hid her eyes. “I can’t believe I just said that. If you threw me out right now, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“It’d be easier to keep you than to try to explain to my family. Did you make everyone in Southern California blush?” He sounded too kind, and…well, maybe tolerant when he spoke.
She lifted the edge of the hat and blinked at him. “I didn’t. Really. I used to be sane and nice, even intelligent.”
Shade from the windblown pine branches flickered across his features. “You’re still nice. It’s all the things going on in your life that’re making you a little—”
“Extreme? Crazy? One brick short of a load?” She narrowed her eyes. “And what do you mean? All what that’s going on in my life? How much do you know about me?”
“More than you know about us, I’d wager.”
What had she said? She had practiced her presentation so often, she was sure she hadn’t dragged her personal life out for them all to examine. What had they done? She turned slowly away and stared into the partially ice-covered brook. The water flashed and coursed in plain view and then sometimes hid beneath a layer of snow-covered ice.
The sheriff trusted these people or he wouldn’t have sent her back…unless he was one of those bad cops from the movies and these people were all psycho. Too extreme? Yes, it was. She took a deep breath of the cold air to ground herself.
If she had stepped into a horror movie, she wasn’t going to wait until some dark night to find out. She’d demand of Baylor what was up and judge his reaction. She could only hope he didn’t pull out a chainsaw from his back pocket.
Cold seeped trough the toes of her shoes and the seams of the well-worn brown jacket. She started to shiver, but she faced Baylor. “How much do you know about me and how?”
He reached into his jacket pocket.
Oh, God.
He studied her for a long second and then produced a battered old red camera.
“You’re cold—” he handed her the camera “—but I thought you might like to take a couple photos before we get in the truck.”
“It’s not a chainsaw,” she said as she breathed out a sigh.
“No. I keep all my gas-powered tools in my work-coat pocket,” he said very seriously.
She did so deserve to be mocked, but it was better than being thrown out.
She scanned his face and the sincere expression warmed her and then she shivered harder. She didn’t know how much was cold and how much was mortification, but she took the camera. “Thank you.”
Grateful to have a diversion, she started clicking photos of the stand of trees, of the clearing where the other cabins would be built, of the stream and forest, of the mountains against the blue sky. The more she shot, the more excited she became, and the colder, until her hands shook too much to get a decent picture.
“Ready?” He held a hand out in the direction of the truck.
When they were settled in the toasty cab he shifted to face her. “We checked into all the viable bidders’ backgrounds.”
“Ah.”
“Checking out candidates seemed prudent.”
“And you’re still willing to give me a chance.” Awe and wonder filled her, and then her mind spun with the possibilities of what the investigator might have found. “I think I’m going to accept that for now, but I might never want to know what you discovered.”
“To my family, you seemed the most…human I guess.”
“I…um…try.”
“They trust you and I’ve decided to listen to them.”
“I had the feeling trusting me was difficult for you.” She drew her lips inward. “I won’t disappoint you, Baylor Doyle, because you’re a good man.”
He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Thank you for everything.” KayLee closed her eyes briefly and imagined the happy feelings filtering down toward her baby. Everything that was good in her life, she tried to share with her unborn child.
She noted his expression and tried to figure out what he might be thinking. “You could have given me such a hard time for opening my mouth about being attracted to you.”
“Still might.”
“Or take advantage of me.”
“Still might.”
It was her turn to laugh and she did and then faced the window when new tears formed in her eyes.
“Do you cry all the time?” he asked.
“Pretty much.” She sniffed.
“Isn’t that normal?”
“Normal? Nothing about me is normal, if normal is the way I was before I was pregnant.” Her breath steamed the window as she spoke.
“Here.” He reached around and handed her a large soft hankie with a red-and-white paisley pattern, the kind she used to wear as a scarf, but this one was softer and the color had faded so much, it must have been washed a million times.
She blew her nose and dabbed her eyes.
“Thanks.” She tucked the hankie in the pocket of the jacket. She’d have to remember to take it out and wash it.
“Amy cried for seven months straight before she gave birth to little Trey two years ago,” he said, his voice kind and soft and she so appreciated the gesture of comfort. “Good news, though, KayLee.”
She sniffed again. “What’s that?”
“Now she only cries when she’s sad.”
“That’s good.”
“Or when she’s happy.”
She laughed again. Baylor Doyle made her laugh. Not much did these days and she loved him for it—well, liked him for it. When she pivoted in her seat, he was still facing her, arms folded, hat pushed back so golden curls framed his face.
She had never seen anything that looked as good as he did at that moment. Trouble. Sexy and roguish at the same time. A bad boy. Deep trouble.
“I can do this job and you will like what I’ve done.” She smiled and placed a hand on her belly. “Now, I need to get back to town and get some rest.”
“The family will want to say goodbye before you leave.”
When they got back to the ranch house, the Doyles, including three children, had gathered in the kitchen to see her off.
Holly and Lance introduced their two-year-old daughter, Katie, and a five-year-old son, Matt.
“Hi, Katie. Hi, Matt,” KayLee said. Katie grinned and hid behind her father’s leg. Matt stuck out his hand and she shook it.
From the other side of the butcher block island Seth and Amy introduced her to their shy two-year-old son, Trey. Amy held the frail-looking boy in her arms, and he kept his head on her shoulder.
Evvy hugged her, and Curtis shook her hand. “Thank you for working so hard on this project for us,” he said. This must have been where Baylor got his blue eyes.
“Don’t be fooled by all this, KayLee.” With the sweep of his hand, Baylor included every Doyle in the room. “We all have our company manners on.”
“Speak for yourself,” Holly shot back. “I’m always nice.”
“You are, Mommy,” the red-haired boy beside her said. “Can I have pie now?”
Curtis laughed. “You keep it up, boy,” he said to the child. “You never know what you’ll get by asking.”
“Thanks, a lot, Dad.”
“So, can I?” Matthew patted his mother on the arm.
Holly made a fierce face at her father-in-law and was met with grandfatherly innocence.
“After dinner, sweetie. If you’re hungry now I’ll get you an apple.”
“Me, too,” Katie cried and jumped out into the open.
While the other children romped, blond, curly-haired Trey sat quietly in his mother’s arms and seemed to get more attention than he needed. KayLee knew she’d be like that. The first-child syndrome.
“I’m glad you’re going to work for us,” Evvy said from the table where she had taken a seat.
“Me, too,” said Amy.
“We all are,” Holly added, as she washed an apple at the sink.
The brothers and sisters-in-law all looked to Baylor.
He shook his head. “Yes, we all are.”
“Is she your girlfriend, Uncle Baylor?” Matt asked, accepting an apple slice from his mother.
“She’s going to build more houses here on the ranch,” Holly said to distract the boy.
“Wow. Real houses.”

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