Harlequin Superromance September 2017 Box Set. Jeannie WattЧитать онлайн книгу.
eyes widened. “I haven’t dropped off an application there.”
“Do it,” Taylor said. “Tomorrow.”
“I will.” Jancey started to smile, but it stalled out. Taylor pushed the ice cream toward her.
“You have to have faith in yourself and your ability to overcome, because no matter how many plans you make, life seems to happen.”
* * *
TAYLOR LEFT COLE and Jancey making plans as well as backup plans and walked across the drive to the bunkhouse that now seemed more like home than it really should have. As soon as she got inside and changed into her flannels and an oversize T-shirt, she dialed her grandfather.
He was doing well. Her aunt was doing well. He didn’t know when he was coming back. Dillon was growing on him, but he did miss his old friends.
“I have a favor to ask,” Taylor said.
“Yeah?”
She gave him a rundown of everything that had happened with Jancey and Miranda. “Do you think you could have a word with your friend who runs Culver Ranch and Feed? Make sure that Miranda doesn’t screw up this deal, too?”
“I can just about guarantee you that Jancey has a job.”
“That would be good, Grandpa. She’s a decent kid and just wants to make money for school.”
“I remember her as being about four years old with the cutest blond curls all over her head.”
Taylor laughed. “She’s changed. And I’m certain she’d do a good job for Culver’s.”
“How’s your job search coming?”
Taylor let out a sigh, and shifted so that her legs draped over the arm of the easy chair. “I interviewed in Bozeman today. I’m not certain how it went. I still want to go home.”
“Home meaning Seattle.”
“I like it here,” she said simply. “Things are…working out. But no one wants to hire a city girl who they know is going to jet back off to Seattle the first chance she gets.”
“Maybe you should work on coming off as more homespun.”
Taylor laughed at her grandfather’s choice of words. “I could. I’m driving the tractor again for Cole.”
“Don’t tell your mother,” Karl said in a mock-serious tone. “Speaking of which, has Cecilia been nagging you about living the rural life?”
“I think she knows that unless she makes room for me with her and Jess, that I’m here until I get hired.”
“Not such a bad thing, is it?”
A soft tap sounded on the door. Taylor smiled to herself. “No, Grandpa. I can honestly say it’s not all bad.”
Cole let himself in as Taylor hung up. She stayed where she was, draped over the easy chair, smiling at him, feeling strangely at peace with herself and this…situation. It couldn’t last. She wasn’t going to live in a bunkhouse across the driveway from a hot rancher/farmer forever. But this was where she was, what she was doing, right now and she was good with it.
“Thanks for giving Jancey the pep talk. She’s feeling a lot better.”
“No problem. I called my grandfather.”
“I kind of thought you would.” He cocked his head but didn’t move any closer, so she pushed herself to her feet and took a couple of lazy steps toward him, half smiling, holding his gaze. “I notice that I still have a small bed.”
“Mmm.” A faint smile curved his lips. “My sister said you can sleep over if you want.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. He wasn’t kidding. “That seems…”
He reached out for her, took her by the shoulders and eased her against his hard body, wrapping his arms around her. “I like the way we do things now.” He found her lips, kissed her gently. “Even if the bed is narrow.”
“Me, too,” Taylor murmured against his perfect mouth. “I like it a lot.” She kissed him back, a long, lingering kiss, more relaxed than the way they used to kiss, but just as hot. “I don’t want to change a thing.”
A scuffling outside on the gravel brought their heads up, and then Jancey yelled, “Cole! A little help!”
Cole hurried for the door at the sound of his sister’s oddly muffled voice, Taylor close on his heels. But when they got outside—no Jancey.
“Cole!” Her voice sounded distant, muffled.
Cole jerked his head. “Grain shed.” They rounded the corner of the bunkhouse, and then Cole skidded to a stop so fast that Taylor ran into his back. Jancey’s feet extended out from beneath the foundation where she’d apparently worked her way into Chucky’s hidey-hole. She was squirming but not really moving forward or back.
“Are you stuck?” Cole demanded.
“I’m not taking the air.”
Taylor put a hand up to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Things like this never happened in her family.
“I’ve got Chucky’s collar.”
“Let go,” Cole said.
“No. He almost got—” she squirmed again “—hit by a car. He might have gotten bumped. I want to—” she coughed as if she’d just inhaled some dirt “—make sure he’s okay.”
Cole rolled his eyes heavenward, and Taylor pressed her lips together hard. It wasn’t funny—not if the little dog had gotten bumped, but if he was okay…
Cole bent down and grabbed his sister’s ankles. “You know this isn’t going to feel good.”
“Don’t. Care.”
Cole shrugged, then started to work Jancey out from under the building. As soon as she was far enough out that she could get her knees underneath her, she scrambled the rest of the way by herself, pulling the shaking bundle of white fur with her. She flopped over into a sitting position, holding the little dog to her filthy chest.
Cole reached out to take Chucky. “Let’s get him in the house. Have a look.”
“Yeah.” Jancey got to her feet, brushed herself off a few times then glanced over at Taylor. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You?”
Jancey lifted her shirt to inspect her stomach, which was red and scraped from where her shirt had ridden up while Cole dragged her backward through the sandy soil. “Nothing that won’t heal.” She jerked her head toward Cole, who was already halfway to the house. “He always pretends to be such a hard-ass. He isn’t.”
“I know.”
“Just making sure.”
Which left Taylor to wonder why as she and Jancey trotted to catch up with him. Once inside, Jancey sat on one of the kitchen chairs and held Chucky while Cole looked him over. The pup had indeed been bumped by the car. He had a skinned leg and a sore spot on his hip.
“Bruised, not broken,” he told Jancey.
“That’s what I thought. I don’t think he needs a vet call. I’ll treat the scrapes myself.”
“Maybe you should hand him over to Mrs. Clovendale.”
“Tomorrow, on my way to the interview. I’ll call her right now and let her know I’m taking care of him until then.”
She put the little white dog down on the floor. He looked at her sadly, and she gently scooped him back up. “Poor little guy. Come on. We’ll go fix that leg.”
She carted the dog out of the room, and Cole and Taylor exchanged looks. Then the laugh that Taylor had