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“Okay, let’s try the truth. I want an easygoing woman,” he typed. “Easygoing is key.”
“That’s my problem,” he said with a sigh. “I’m always worrying about being heavy-handed. My brothers would just fire this puppy off and never think twice about sounding like tree dwellers.”
Well, Tarzan he wasn’t, but he wanted a Jane for one night. A Jane he’d practically designed himself. “There are bigger sins on the planet than being a male chauvinist. Here goes nothing,” he said and hit the Send key.
IN JULIA FINEHURST’S office at the Honey-Do Agency, Kelly Stone was in charge while her boss was sick. She’d just logged the final client and picked up her extralarge purse to leave for the weekend when she remembered she hadn’t turned off the computer.
She bent to click the screen closed and saw that a new e-mail had popped up. The Jefferson Union Junction ranch return address caught her eye, and she opened the message. Kelly got a lot of news from her mother, Helga, whenever Julia wrote to check on her employee.
“My name is Fannin Jefferson,” Kelly read. “I need a personal assistant for one evening.”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s a new one. Why don’t you just say you need a date?”
She seated herself in the chair to read the rest of the request. From everything her mother had told her, the wild boys of Malfunction Junction did not have to go hunting for women. Women knocked those boys over any chance they could. Her mother had mentioned thongs in the mailbox and bras hanging off the front doorknob, all inscribed with phone numbers, names or addresses.
“Attractive, understanding, somewhat petite female,” she read. “Mr. Jefferson, you are obviously way too proud of yourself. You want to order the moon to spec, and say it’s a job. Then you can fire my employee when she doesn’t meet your lofty requirements.”
No one would describe Kelly as attractive or petite. She had her mother’s German genes, which showed in her robustness, and her Irish father’s red hair, neither of which brought men running to her side.
“Needs to have a good sense of humor,” she read out loud. Blinking, she thought about all the women the agency had on file: mothers, secretaries, teachers, even a mathematician. It wouldn’t be hard to find someone dainty for him, even though the agency’s matchmaking file was small. Yet it wouldn’t be fair to send the women out on a false lead to a persnickety, overimpressed-with-himself cowboy who maybe had no intention of being any nicer to his “assistant” than he was to Kelly’s mother.
“Mr. Smooth Operator,” she murmured. “Ordering Dream Date Barbie so you can send her back after you’ve looked under her skirt. No, I don’t think so, Lascivious Ken.”
Maybe Kelly would go there herself.
She knew her mother was homesick. She had been worried enough to threaten to come visit the ranch and slap those wily cowboys into line herself if they didn’t start appreciating Helga. It hurt Kelly’s feelings that her mother was sad, especially during the Christmas season. A job was a job, but her mother had been at the Jefferson household for nearly a year now.
“My mother has a heart of gold,” Kelly said, peering into her oversize purse. “Those cowpokes ought to know that by now. Obviously, they’re not too bright. Isn’t that right, Joy?”
Kelly pulled out her very red, very opinionated teacup poodle, a sweet baby who had bonded with Kelly instantly upon the dog’s rescue from the local animal shelter.
“Miss Joy,” Kelly said, “what do you think about a road trip to visit Grandma?”
Joy quivered in her hands. Kelly adjusted the poodle’s little sweater and fake-diamond collar as she thought about Fannin’s request.
“It’s only one night,” Kelly said to the poodle. “There’s nothing on our dance card for tonight or tomorrow. Mama’s homesick, and we can cheer her up. And it wouldn’t hurt this ornery cowboy too much if his order isn’t exactly fit-to-fill. We just won’t charge him while we teach him to mind his manners better where your grandma is concerned. Or better yet, we could double bill him! He’d deserve it, the rat, even though Julia wouldn’t allow it.”
Joy licked Kelly’s hand. No crime was being committed if every tiny detail wasn’t perfect for Fannin Jefferson.
Kelly reread the e-mail. “Good sense of humor,” she repeated, switching off the computer and getting up from the chair. She turned out the lights. “Gee, cowboy, hope you don’t mind a little joke being played on you.”
“I’VE THOUGHT OF A WAY to get rid of Helga,” Archer said smoothly. “This is so easy we should have thought of it before.”
“Mason likes her. At least she keeps him reasonably happy. For years, we’ve dreamed of him getting off our cases. What’s the point of changing a good thing?” Calhoun asked.
“We could have a new housekeeper. We could talk one of the Union Junction Salon girls into coming over here to work for us,” Navarro said reasonably.
“Yeah,” Bandera agreed, flipping some cards onto the table. “Give me an ace out of the deck, Last.”
“May I just point out that whatever you do to Helga will adversely affect Mimi,” Last said. The youngest brother, he was prone to clear thinking at times and steering his brothers on many occasions. “Mimi needs help with her dad. The sheriff hasn’t improved in months.”
“Mimi’s happily pregnant,” Crockett pointed out. “I mean, have you seen the size of her lately? She looks like she swallowed the Great Pumpkin. Marriage clearly agrees with her.”
“I dunno,” Last said. “I don’t think she’s all that happy.”
The brothers stared at him.
“Then let Mimi hire Helga, since Mimi hired Helga for us in the first place,” Archer said, annoyed. “That’s the proper thing to do, and it was what I was going to suggest. Mimi needs Helga more than we do. Mimi sneakily hired Helga in here to keep Mason occupied. But now Mimi’s married, so Mason is free to shake loose of those shackles. I say this is the right solution for everyone. And I want to get up in the morning and look at a face that’s young and beautiful and smiling. Instead of scouring me.”
“Scouring you?” Bandera asked. “Do you mean souring you?”
“No. I mean scouring me. I put my elbows on the table and she scours me with her eyes. I put my feet on the coffee table, she scours me. I leave clothes lying on the floor in my room, and she scours me. It’s like being assaulted daily by a Brillo pad.”
“She doesn’t have to clean our houses, just Mason’s,” Calhoun pointed out. “She doesn’t have to take care of anyone except Mason, since he’s really the one who wants her.”
“Archer has a good theory,” Last said slowly. “I never thought of it before, but with four less of us on the ranch, we don’t need as much help as we did. Mimi’s got her sick dad and a baby on the way. We could offer Helga’s services to the Cannadys.”
Archer sighed with relief. “I just knew you’d see it my way.”
Fannin walked in, tossing his hat on the table.
“Any luck?” Last asked him. “Call out the harpist yet to serenade the hooved lovers with romantic music?”
“Shut up,” Fannin demanded.
“We’ve got a plan we need your vote on, ornery one,” Bandera said. “How would you feel about us giving Helga to Mimi as a baby gift?”
Fannin grinned. “Now that’s the first positive thing y’all have said all day. The sooner the better!”
He fixed himself some lunch, feeling much better about life in general. The phone rang in the kitchen. “Fannin Jefferson,” he said.
A soft voice said, “Mr. Jefferson? This is the Honey-Do Agency calling to confirm and fill your order.”
He scrambled with the phone, the sandwich he’d fixed and a notepad into the farthest corner of the kitchen so his nosy brothers couldn’t hear. The minute they realized he was trying to have a private conversation, they grouped around him, listening.
“Do you mind?” he demanded of them.
“Mr. Jefferson?” the voice asked.
He couldn’t help noticing that the voice was sweet. But confident. “Just a moment, please. I’m having some interference here.”
“I’m on a cell phone,” the sweet voice said. “I’m afraid the line is breaking up. Can you meet your date in town, to help her get to the ranch?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “How about we meet at Lampy’s Bar on the square?”
“I’ll tell her,” the voice said. “Nine o’clock all right?”
“It’s fine.” He shooed his brothers away. “Um, does that mean that tonight is the one night she’s going to be my personal companion?”
“Well, no, Mr. Jefferson,” the voice said with a laugh. “You can keep her as long as you need to, if you accept her,” the woman said. “This is just an interview, is it not? Since your needs were pretty specific.”
He recognized he was being teased and wasn’t sure what to think about it. The woman’s voice was giving him a strange buzz, almost as if she were blowing kisses into his ear.
“Normally, billing would begin in the morning, at eight o’clock. However, we feel it’s important that your assistant finds you to her liking, as well. You understand.”
There was that subtle laughter in her voice again. Fannin turned to face the kitchen wall so that his brothers couldn’t read his expression. “It’s business, not pleasure,” he stated, lying through his teeth but not wanting to seem like a man who needed to call up for a private companion. Damn, but this was getting complicated. He’d have to find her some typing to do.
Why did I let my brothers goad me into dialing up a date?
“Goodbye,” the voice said, and the line went dead.
“Oh crap!” Fannin said to himself. “I forgot all about my date tonight!”
“You have a date?” Last asked quickly.
“The Helga date. Remember? I promised to take her into Dallas.” Rattled by getting a callback from the agency so quickly, he’d forgotten about Helga. “What plans do you have tonight?” he asked his brothers.
They shifted uncomfortably.
“You know, since you’re plotting to get rid of her, this ought to make you feel better,” Fannin said. “Be nice to her before you boot her.”
“You don’t like her, either,” Last said.
“No,” Fannin agreed. “I don’t think that’s a reason to plot her unemployment, though.” He sighed. “However, I’m putting my vote in with this plan just because I do think she’d be happier taking care of a baby, the sheriff and Mimi than you ungrateful lot. Who’s going to tell Mason what you’re up to?”
Archer stood. “You are?”
“Me? Why would I? I didn’t hatch this scheme.” He wasn’t going to have any part of telling Mason that the one person who made him happy was going to have to find new digs next door.
Crockett kicked back in the chair, balancing it on its legs. “If you want us to take Helga out tonight so that you can go wherever it is you’re going, we think it’s only fair you talk to Mason.”
They had a point, even if it was blackmail. Fannin pursed his lips. The lady on the phone had sounded so sexy. Of course, that wasn’t his date, but if his date was anything like the bearer of that voice…his ears would be the happiest part of his body.
At least until he could talk her out of her clothes.
“Deal,” he said reluctantly. “You butt-heads.”
The brothers slapped each other’s hands while Fannin looked on sourly.
“Freedom, here we come!” Navarro yelled.
“Ding-dong, the witch is dead!” Bandera howled.
Annoyed, Fannin left the room, comforting himself with the thought that he’d soon be at Lampy’s Bar meeting his dream date. Picked just for him, by the sexy-sounding secretary.
He just wished he didn’t feel like such a Judas.
Chapter Two
If Kelly felt any remorse over deceiving Fannin Jefferson, it dissipated immediately when she saw the tall, lanky cowboy lounging against a lamppost outside Lampy’s Bar. “Mr. Jefferson?”
He nodded, straightening to his full height, which Kelly was gratified to note was taller than her full height. She was no small, delicate thing, standing nearly six feet without the small, stacked heels on the winter boots she was wearing. “I’m Kelly Stone,” she said. “Your personal assistant.”
She saw hesitation in his gaze—then realized that hesitation had turned to something else as he took her hand.
“Hello,” he said, his voice deep and stirring. “Thanks for coming all the way out here.”
Oh, she didn’t want to be attracted to him. But his hand warmed her chilled fingers and his voice settled her nerves. This big man carried security in every inch of his frame, and she responded to it like a lost calf.
“I’m not the petite, cheery blonde you ordered. That was what you requested, wasn’t it?” Kelly asked, her words speeding as he let go of her hand.
A grin spread across his face. “No. You’re not what I ordered. But I don’t think I knew what I wanted.”
She stared at him. He was tall, dark, handsome. So cliché. Candy for females. Dark hair settled around his chin. Didn’t the man believe in haircuts? She couldn’t see whether he had a bald spot hiding under his hat, but she doubted it. The man had too much confidence to be hiding any flaws. His chin was firm and strong, his lips full and sensual. She liked his lips best, if she ignored that his chest was as wide as Ohio. His eyes were shaded enough by the hat so that he looked mysterious. Marlboro man come to life, except he stood in the misty night as if he’d never seen a woman as beautiful as she.
Everything her mother had said about the wild Jefferson boys reverberated in her ears. Yet her body was responding in the strangest way to this man. Didn’t mother always know best? Helga wouldn’t want her daughter getting a crush on a Jefferson male. She would warn Kelly that nothing good could come of it. “I suppose you’re perfectly horrid,” Kelly said, “or else you wouldn’t have to order a personal companion. There must be lots of ladies in this town who would be willing to ‘work’ for you.”
He winked at her. “Yeah.”
“Yeah what? You’re horrid or lots of ladies applied for the job? When do you fill me in on my supposed duties?”
He laughed, taking her arm. “Come on. You look cold.”
A small bark reminded Kelly of her manners. “I’m sorry,” she told the cowboy. “This is Joy.” She took the small red poodle out of her bag, holding Joy up so that Fannin could see her. “Do you think Mr. Lampy will mind a dog in his bar?”
Fannin took Joy from her, slipping the tiny dog inside his jacket. “Now he won’t.”
Kelly hesitated, shocked that Joy had gone so willingly. Her spoiled and opinionated baby didn’t like anyone. Even more surprising, the cowboy wasn’t irritated that she’d brought a pet. Suddenly she felt guilty that she hadn’t been honest with him about who she was. She should tell him. Certainly this brother couldn’t have been disrespectful of her mother’s feelings.
Then again, Helga had said the Jeffersons were an extraordinarily charming lot.
That didn’t change the reality, either, that as soon as Fannin found out she was Helga’s daughter, the pumpkin coach was going to leave the curb. But Fannin was staring at her like she was something special, someone attractive and meaningful whose company he was enjoying. And that wasn’t a feeling a six-foot redhead usually got from a man.
Dishonesty was going to have to work for just a while longer. A little more starry glow—before she had to put away the fairy-tale props.
“Everything all right?” Fannin asked. “You look like something’s not good.”
“Everything is good,” Kelly replied quietly.
Too good.
FANNIN WAS HAVING a hard time not staring at the statuesque redhead as she tossed a dart with strength and accuracy toward the wall target. “There you go,” he said. “You can’t do any better than that.”
She sipped her wine and nodded. “Pretty good for never having thrown darts before.”
“How old are you?” Fannin asked. He had to know. She seemed so fresh and young and cheerful.
“Thirty. You?”
