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Wanted: Christmas Mummy
Wanted: Christmas Mummy
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Wanted: Christmas Mummy

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“She’s okay,” Doug muttered. He didn’t want to discuss her, or think about her, or remember her warmth, her curves, her cooking.

“Hey! Maybe she came in response to that ad!” Moss suddenly exclaimed, a big grin on his weathered face. “You know, the one Ben and Will—” His glance met Doug’s in the rearview mirror and he suddenly stopped talking. He’d known Doug long enough to recognize the danger signals.

Curly, too, looked at Doug and said nothing.

Moss cleared his throat. “Uh, want us to move the herd closer in, since the snow’s let up? It’d make it easier to feed them.”

Doug concurred with his suggestion, and any other conversation for the rest of the ride dealt with work. The drive seemed interminable to Doug, every jolt shooting pain through his entire body. Jim had given him pain pills, but he refused to take any until he made sure he had that woman out of his home.

He’d need his wits about him to get rid of her. Especially if she’d spent the past few hours charming his boys as she had done last night.

He’d checked himself out of the hospital long before he should’ve, according to Jim, who protested his decision, but Doug wasn’t going to let a little red tape interfere with protecting his children. When they reached the ranch house, Moss pulled the Jeep as close to the steps as possible behind the woman’s car. She was still here.

The two ranch hands both came to his door, opened it and began to ease him forward on the seat. He gritted his teeth at the pain.

“Easy, boss, we got you,” Moss muttered.

They carried him up the steps, his broken leg stuck straight out in front of him. Curly managed to get the front door open and they backed into the warmth of the hall. Silence greeted them.

“Where is everyone?” Curly asked, but Doug had just about reached the end of his patience. His leg was aching big-time.

“Just take me up to bed. Then we’ll sort everything out.”

They made their way up the stairs and Moss shoved open the door to his room. The two cowboys stopped in their tracks, and Doug, clinging to their broad shoulders, looked up to see what the holdup was.

What he saw was a rather shapely female posterior. Leslie Hibbets snapped to attention and whirled around. Before she could sputter anything, the boys came racing around the bed.

“Daddy!” Leslie stepped in their path before they could crash into the cowboys holding their father.

“You can see your dad in a minute. I think we’d better finish his bed first so he can lie down. You’ve been such super helpers, your dad will be so proud.”

Instead of the frightened faces he expected, his sons beamed at him and then scurried back to the other side of the bed. They never obeyed him like that! Stunned, he watched the lady also turn away. That was when he realized she’d been bent over his bed, making it up.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, all the frustration he felt evident in his voice.

She turned around again and stared at him. All warmth was gone from her blue eyes. “I used your bed last night. So I washed the sheets this morning and now we’re putting them back on.” There was a challenge in there, as if daring him to complain.

“Wow! You must’ve been up early,” Moss said before Doug could speak. His voice fairly dripped with admiration, but Doug suspected it had nothing to do with her early rise. She looked just as sexy this morning in her tight jeans as she had last night.

Her smile didn’t lessen her sexiness.

“Not too early. The boys said they always get up at six.” As if just now remembering the two cowboys were still holding him, she hurried back to her bedmaking.

“You lucky devil,” Moss muttered in Doug’s ear. Doug glared at him.

“Each of you get a pillow,” Leslie ordered his children, and they hurried to follow her orders.

What had she done—hypnotized them?

“Now you can put Mr. Graybow in bed,” she suggested to Moss and Curly, stepping back out of the way.

As eager as his body was to make the acquaintance of something soft and stationary, Doug wasn’t a happy camper. For some reason, he grew less so as the fresh smell of clean sheets hit him. He hadn’t bothered with such niceties since Agnes left. He hadn’t had time, he defended himself, as he closed his eyes and relaxed for just a moment.

“Does he have any medicine he’s supposed to take?” that lilting voice asked, and his eyes popped open.

“Yeah, some pain pills,” Moss answered before he could stop him.

“I don’t need them.”

All three adults gave him a derisive look.

“Do you hurt, Daddy?” Gareth asked, leaning toward him.

He’d never lied to his children. Well, almost never. Only for their own good. “A little, son.”

“Then you should take your medicine or you won’t get better. ‘Member? You told us.”

Leslie walked into his bathroom and he heard the water run.

“I’m going to be fine,” he told his son, trying to inject a heartiness into his voice to convince him. The headache pounding at his temples made it difficult, though.

“Here’s some water, sweetie. Maybe if you help your dad, he’ll take his medicine. I’m sure he’s not afraid since he’s so big and strong.”

Even though there wasn’t a hint of laughter in her voice, the snickers from his men told him he was right on target when he thought she was making fun of him.

“Here’s the medicine, Justin. You hand it to him and then Gareth can give him the water,” Moss said helpfully.

Doug had no choice but to follow orders.

“Have you two already had breakfast? We were going to have pancakes and you’re welcome to join us,” Leslie offered the cowboys, that warm smile on her lips.

His gut clinched as he watched his men explain that they’d been dragged away from the hospital before eating. Without even a glance in his direction, Leslie led the drooling men from his room.

“Do you want some pancakes, Daddy? We’ll bring you some,” Justin said, patting his father’s cheek.

At least someone hadn’t forgotten him. Not that he wanted Leslie Hibbets to think about him. Of course not. But Moss and Curly could at least remember he was alive.

“No, son, but thanks for offering. I believe I’ll just sleep. You two will be all right, won’t you? You won’t get into trouble?”

“’Course not, Daddy,” Gareth said. “Leslie’s here.”

His mind was growing cloudy and his lips didn’t seem to work too well, but there was something he needed to say. Something about Leslie. Laughter floated up the stairs as he slid into unconsciousness. Yes. There was definitely something about Leslie.

LESLIE POURED MOSS a second cup of coffee and returned to her chair. They’d enjoyed a big breakfast. In between bites, the two men had filled Leslie in on the doctor’s diagnosis.

“So Mr. Graybow is going to have to remain in bed for four or five days? Who will take care of him?” she asked.

“I guess we’ll have to take turns, though we were already short a hand before the boss got hurt. That will make us twice as short.”

Moss glared at his friend, Leslie noticed, when Curly started to speak.

“Maybe you can hire someone to take care of him.” She thought again about the man upstairs refusing to hire her because he was short of money. The hospital bills wouldn’t help.

“Well, it’s kind of difficult…” Moss began and then trailed off, looking as if he wasn’t sure how much he should reveal.

“Look, I’d volunteer,” she began, but before Moss’s grin could spread too wide, she added, “but it wouldn’t work.”

“What do you mean?” Curly asked. “It’d be perfect.”

“No, it wouldn’t. Mr. Graybow doesn’t want me here.”

“He hasn’t tasted your pancakes,” Moss said, his smile still in place.

She chuckled but shook her head no. “Thanks for the compliment, but he made his wishes clear last night.”

“Last night, he thought he could manage. It’s pretty obvious now that he can’t.” Moss watched her reaction.

“We can’t cook for Daddy, Leslie. How will he get something to eat if you don’t stay?” Gareth asked.

“And us, too. You promised to bake cookies,” Justin reminded her.

Leslie knew the boys were trying to manipulate her into feeling sorry for them. They’d already suggested several times that she should stay.

Not that she disagreed with them. She hadn’t been sure what she’d been looking for when she set out on her travels, but a home and family were definitely on the list. This job would be perfect for a few months. She could try out being a mom, see if she really wanted children. The cowboys seemed nice, too. She might even meet that special man she had dreamed of. There certainly seemed to be enough men around to choose from. Immediate thoughts of the one upstairs were hurriedly dismissed.

“I thought we’d have time…” she began in response to the child’s reminder.

Justin’s mouth sagged and Leslie hesitated. “Maybe…maybe I could just stay until tomorrow. That would give you time to find someone, wouldn’t it?” she asked Moss.

“And we could make cookies?” Justin asked.

She nodded to the child, bringing a smile back to his face.

“I’ll sure try to find someone,” Moss promised, his look as eager as the other three males in the room.

“I can do some extra cooking, too, to help out. Things that can be frozen,” she added, her mind racing with the possibilities. “You do have someone to cook for you, don’t you?” she asked Moss.

“Blackie cooks. But lately he’s been having to be in the saddle most of the time. What with the shortage, you know. We’re all mostly living off sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches? After working outside in the cold all day?” she asked, horrified. She’d been cooking for her invalid mother, but she understood the appetites hardworking men could have. “I’ll try to help out while I’m here.”

“That’d be great,” Moss said as he stood.

“But there’s not a lot of supplies here,” she hurriedly added, knowing once the two men left the kitchen she wouldn’t be able to ask any more questions. They’d be out in the cold, working.

“Blackie just got a full order in three days ago. I bet the boss didn’t get around to taking his share of it. You go on down to the bunkhouse and get whatever you need. The boys will show you.”

“All right. I’ll try to have something fixed for dinner when you get in.”

They grinned at her and stepped out onto the snowy porch. As they walked down the steps, Curly said to his friend, “Man, how did we get so lucky?”

Leslie shook her head. The grouch upstairs wasn’t going to think her staying was luck. Unless it was the bad kind. But what could she do? He certainly couldn’t take care of anything since he had to stay in bed. And she was just staying until they found someone else.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered to herself as she retraced her steps to the kitchen. Somehow she didn’t think Moss thought it would be that easy, in spite of the smile he’d given her. If it were, why hadn’t Doug Graybow already filled the position he’d advertised for?

She told the boys to clear the table while she checked on their father. With a few grumbles, they started carrying the dishes to the dishwasher. After several minutes of working in silence, Justin whispered, “Do you think she’ll stay?”

“Maybe. But how come we have to work? I thought a mommy was supposed to take care of us,” Gareth complained.

“I know, but…but I kind of like her. I think she’d make a good mommy. She smells better’n Agnes.”

“Yeah, but she hasn’t made any cookies yet. If she doesn’t make cookies, she can’t be my mommy,” Gareth declared, his jaw squared in determination just like his father’s.

“Okay. She has to make cookies,” Justin agreed. “But do you think Daddy will let her stay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we just won’t tell him.”

“I think he’ll find out. He always does. And then we get in trouble. How about we let him have some of the cookies? I bet he likes ’em, too.”

“Okay, but not too many. I’m this hungry for cookies,” Gareth exclaimed, flinging his arms wide. Unfortunately, he forgot about the glass in his hand, and it went flying across the kitchen to shatter against the cabinet.

“Uh-oh.”

LESLIE EASED OPEN the bedroom door and looked in. Doug Graybow lay sprawled out on the big bed, his eyes closed.

“Mr. Graybow?” she whispered.

When there was no response, she crept over to the bed. He was a big man, his hard, muscled body covering much of the mattress. Even in sleep he looked powerful.

A shiver ran over her, and she took an involuntary step backward. As if recognizing her presence, he stirred and groaned. Afraid she’d wakened him, she froze, not relaxing until his breathing evened out again. Then she frowned.

The doctor had obviously split the seam on his jeans since the material flapped around the temporary brace. But he couldn’t be comfortable with those tight jeans around his waist. She should have had him remove them before taking his medicine.

She looked around the room, as if seeking help. If he were a woman, she wouldn’t hesitate to make him more comfortable. Maybe she could get the twins… No, they weren’t strong enough.

The cowboys wouldn’t be back until dark.

That left only her.

If only she could just think of the man as her patient, not as a hunk of masculinity that would make many a female heart swoon. She remembered the way he’d looked when he’d first opened the door to her. Even then, with that ferocious frown, she’d registered his sex appeal.

“Stop that!” she whispered to herself. When he didn’t stir, she stepped closer to the bed. Leaning over him, she inched his T-shirt up from his waist, her fingers brushing against warm flesh.

Just below his belly button, centered on a flat, hard stomach, were the buttons to his jeans. She licked her dry lips and then reached to unfasten them. The jeans were tight and she had to struggle to push each button through its hole. A sigh of relief escaped when she felt his cotton briefs beneath her fingers. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve done had he been one of those men who didn’t bother with underwear.

Standing up, Leslie stretched her neck, stiff with the tension of the past few minutes. Now all she had to do was slide the jeans down those long, lean legs. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

As if in relief that the tight jeans were loosened, Doug shifted on the bed. Leslie jumped as if he’d opened his eyes. “Oh!’