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The Rancher's Homecoming
Arlene James
Winning the Widow's LoveRex Billings hires young widow Callie Deviner as a housekeeper to help care for his ailing father and rambling home. He only intends to run Straight Arrow Ranch temporarily—soon enough he'll head back to the city he loves. But there's something about Callie—and it's not just her delicious cooking and adorable baby daughter. Callie is drawn to her good-looking and protective boss too, but her overbearing dad already has a new husband picked out for her. Can she stand up to her father, and make Rex see that her future lies within his arms?The Prodigal Ranch: Where wild hearts are welcomed home
Winning the Widow’s Love
Rex Billings hires young widow Callie Deviner as a housekeeper to help care for his ailing father and rambling home. He only intends to run Straight Arrow Ranch temporarily—soon enough he’ll head back to the city he loves. But there’s something about Callie—and it’s not just her delicious cooking and adorable baby daughter. Callie is drawn to her good-looking and protective boss, too, but her overbearing dad already has a new husband picked out for her. Can she stand up to her father, and make Rex see that her future lies within his arms?
“Bodie can sleep on the ride back.”
“Let me take her,” Rex offered. “The brim of my hat will give her some shade.”
Callie looked down at her sleepy baby. “All right.”
He tightened the cinches on the saddles again while Callie fashioned a sling for her daughter. Bodie whimpered a mild protest as they slung her sideways against Rex’s chest, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder, but then she reached up a little hand and laid it against his throat, as if feeling the beat of his pulse was all she needed to lull her to sleep.
Callie heard herself whisper, “She loves you.”
“I love her, too,” Rex said softly. He looked up then, his blue eyes as pale and warm as the summer sky. “I’ll miss the two of you if you leave the ranch.”
If, not when. Confused, Callie dared not reply to that. Anything she said would lay bare her heart, and that simply was not wise.
ARLENE JAMES has been publishing steadily for nearly four decades and is a charter member of RWA. She is married to an acclaimed artist, and together they have traveled extensively. After growing up in Oklahoma, Arlene lived thirty-four years in Texas and now abides in beautiful northwest Arkansas, near two of the world’s three loveliest, smartest, most talented granddaughters. She is heavily involved in her family, church and community.
The Rancher’s
Homecoming
Arlene James
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
But when you do a charitable deed,
do not let your left hand know what your
right hand is doing, that your charitable deed
may be in secret; and your Father who sees
in secret will Himself reward you openly.
—Matthew 6:3–4
In memory of my dad, William Fred “Bill” Roper, who taught me that country men are strong, resilient, capable, patient, accepting, funny, interesting, knowledgeable, talented, intelligent, clever, kind, neighborly and loving. I miss you.
Contents
Cover (#u6c6d67bc-db7f-5773-94bb-cec9192ad616)
Back Cover Text (#u068108ed-1cf8-5f37-ac15-56bf114b85e6)
Introduction (#u4f4ff783-615c-51ac-a763-84b80121b555)
About the Author (#u4e06cfd3-484a-5336-92c2-8d63f146c766)
Title Page (#u85c083f7-4e93-5c65-a518-158bc53dcb59)
Bible Verse (#ub67ff2f6-201a-54e9-be29-d93604e622a1)
Dedication (#ua1fdfb93-9d82-587a-971e-32181cb53adb)
Chapter One (#u13e60d28-e1e7-5822-91b9-22e090dd3757)
Chapter Two (#u63c378e8-bf14-54d9-a5ae-7aa258d09c22)
Chapter Three (#u93ce0187-c1b2-58d7-8d1f-7e0ae6799eb4)
Chapter Four (#u1442c16a-4438-5c32-8625-08f213de525c)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_de31912a-aa4d-5d0c-b03d-3934fd913e6e)
Never let it be said that God did not answer prayers. Callie Deviner’s answer walked into the War Bonnet Café on the morning of the last Thursday in May, ordered breakfast, which he wolfed down with three cups of black coffee, then calmly announced to all within hearing distance that he was looking for a live-in cook and housekeeper.
Callie set aside the heavy metal spatula she was holding and pushed a wisp of fine blond hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist before speaking to the freckle-faced teenager at the grill beside her.
“Fill this next order. I have to go out front.”
The teen boy gaped at her. Johnny had been working at the café for more than six months and knew his way around a grill, but the regular cook, Chet, who was out with a toothache and as set in his ways as her father, still hadn’t trusted the kid to do more than dish up fries and make toast. Callie ignored the youngster’s sputtered assurances and moved toward the swinging metal door that separated the kitchen from the dining room, sweeping the hated net from her short hair as she did so.
Tucking the hairnet into the pocket of her apron with one hand and fluffing her bangs with the other, she moved swiftly behind the counter, past the middle-aged waitress, Jenny, and came to stand directly behind the tall, brown-haired man in the worn plaid shirt.
“Did I hear you say you were looking for a cook and housekeeper?”
His elbows slipped from the counter, and he spun on the stool to face her, his pale blue gaze quickly sweeping over her. He looked oddly polished despite that worn shirt. Without it, she’d have pegged him for a city boy, though she judged him to be in his thirties.
“That’s right. For my father. We need someone live-in, as soon as possible. Dad’s ill, and I’ve come to help out. My sisters will be along as soon as they can arrange it, but that could be several weeks, and until then, we’ve got to have help.”
“Who is your dad?”
“Wes Billings.”
“Oh. Out at Straight Arrow Ranch.”
“That’s right.”
“I had heard that Wes was ill.”
“Very ill, I’m afraid.”
A murmur of condolence went around the room. Wes was well thought of around War Bonnet, Oklahoma. He was known to be a fair, honest, upright Christian man willing to help a neighbor in need. This had to be Rex Billings, Wes’s son. He was quite a bit older than Callie, eight or ten years, so she didn’t really know him. Even in a town as small as War Bonnet, that many years apart in school practically guaranteed they’d be strangers unless they both stayed in town, and to her knowledge Rex had never returned after leaving for college, except perhaps to visit.
He swept the room with his gaze, sending curious diners back to their own business. Callie inched closer, lowering her voice.
“I’ll certainly do all I can for Wes. As for the position, how much are you thinking of paying?”
Rex quietly named a weekly figure that made Callie’s heart leap with joy. Even two or three weeks at that rate would help her and her daughter, Bodie, get out of her father’s house at last. She motioned to the empty plate on the counter in front of him.
“You might be interested in knowing that I cooked your breakfast. Two eggs over easy, bacon, very crisp, and flapjacks. Right? How’d I do?”
Billings grinned and parked both elbows on the counter again, one on either side of his plate. “Eggs were perfect. Flapjacks nearly floated off the plate. I like my bacon crisp to the edge of burnt, but that’s just me. When can you start?”
“That depends,” she said, sending up a silent prayer. “I have a six-month-old daughter. Will that be a problem?”
Rex Billings tilted his head. His thick, medium-brown hair, she noticed, had been expertly cut and styled. He wore it without a part and, even mussed, it looked adorable. Pretty much everything about him made a woman look twice, from his straight nose to his square jaw and chin. He had recently shaved; she could still smell the shaving cream. But already she could see the dark shadow of his beard beneath his evenly tanned skin. It was his eyes that did it, though. Pale blue and gem bright, as if backlit by tiny lightbulbs from within.
“Women with babies have been cooking and cleaning for millennia,” he said from behind a smile. “We have space for the both of you, especially if you don’t mind sharing a room.”
“Not at all.”
“I can’t imagine Dad would object. He knows you, doesn’t he?”
“He does. He’s known me my whole life.” Callie reached around behind her and started untying her apron. “I can start right now, if you want.”
“Works for me,” he said, pushing up to his full height, which she judged to be at least a couple inches over six feet. His jeans, in contrast to his shirt, looked to be brand-new. “I suppose I ought to least get your name, though.”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Callie laughed, lifting the apron’s neck piece off over her head. “It’s Callie Deviner. Everyone just calls me Callie.”
“Callie Deviner. Pleased to meet you.” He put out his big hand. She quickly shook hands with him. “I’m Rex Billings.”
“Yes, I figured that, since Wes has just the one son.”
He tilted his head again, those pale blue eyes holding her gaze. “Shouldn’t I know you, too?”
“I went to school with your sisters. You were long gone when I came on the scene.”
“Ah. I suppose that’s true. Meredith is ten years younger than me, so...”
“I’m Ann’s age,” Callie supplied. “Twenty-eight.”
“Still, that’s eight years,” he said. “I was already practicing law by the time you graduated high school.”
A lawyer. Wes must be very proud. She frowned then, wondering what ailed Wes. The sooner she got to the ranch, the sooner she’d know.
“Just let me get my things so we can go,” she said.
He glanced around. “You sure it’s all right to leave like this?”
“I’m just filling in. Off-the-books. It’s fine.”
“Okay, then.” He nodded decisively, and she carried her apron toward Jenny.
The blocky, chatty waitress looked around in surprise when Callie thrust the thick, white apron into her hands, saying, “I’m leaving now, Jenny.”
“Leaving?” Jenny echoed. “Who’s gonna cook?”
“Johnny can handle it.”
“But—”
“I don’t actually work here,” Callie reminded the woman, who followed her into the back room. “I’m not even being paid. It isn’t as if you can fire me. I’m just helping out.”
“Your daddy—”
“Will get over it,” Callie said softly. Or not. Either way, she was going with Rex Billings. “You let me worry about that.”
“Chet will be beside himself,” Jenny hissed.
Callie ignored her, taking her handbag from the locked cabinet and tossing Jenny the key. “I won’t be needing this again.”
