Read Online Texas Homecoming by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: MAGGIE SHAYNE
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keep me in demand until I decide."
"Odd jobs?"
He nodded. "Yeah, mostly courtesy of my cousins. Let's see, between them they have a cattle ranch, a horse ranch, a dude ranch, a veterinary clinic, a martial arts school—"
She held up a hand. "I get it. You've got a lot of family in town."
"You didn't even let me get to the P.I., the sheriff, the archaeologist and the shrink."
She tried to keep her face expressionless when he mentioned the sheriff. But she couldn't help but flash back to that cop, Petronella, standing over Rosebud's body, looking up at her. The same man she'd seen commit a murder—the man who'd taken a shot at her son.
"Actually, now that I think about it, you could probably find work with any of them, if you're looking."
She shook herself out of the disturbing memory and glanced into the next room to see that Baxter had settled down in front of the TV again. It wasn't good for him, all that television. "I would mink you'd be pushing me to leave here, not giving me job tips that might keep me around even longer."
He shrugged. "This thing with the property will get settled one way or another no matter what I do," he said. "Frankly, I'm more concerned about your son right now than I am about who wins a fight over a house."
She tipped her head to one side. He was trying to get to her by feigning concern for Baxter. It was low. She'd seen it before. Never done quite this well or convincingly, though.
"So what do you do for a living, Jasmine?" She looked him dead in the eye. "I'm a dancer."
His brows rose. "Really? What, ballet?"
Still watching him, she said, "Exotic." His face stilled, mouth frozen into a thin line as he slowly digested that bit of information.
"You're a—'' Glancing toward Baxter, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You're a stripper?"
"That's right. So about that job you're going to help me find..."
"Mommy, Mommy, look! Horses! Real live horses! Just like on TV!"
Jasmine had to pull hard to yank her gaze away from Luke Brand's probing one, but she did, getting to her feet and going to the living room just as Baxter pulled the door open and ran outside.
There were people out there. Strangers on horseback, riding up to the house like something out of an old western. Jasmine sprinted after her son, her heart in her throat, and caught him just as he reached the dangerous hooves. She scooped him up, held him hard, her heart pounding as she turned and carried him back toward the house.
Luke stood there on the top step, looking at her, a deep frown etched between his brows. Then he looked past her, and his expression changed. He smiled, waved. "Garrett, Chelsea, good to see you. Hey, Bubba! How's my best cowboy?"
"I rode all the way all by myself," a child's voice shouted.
Jasmine lifted her head, turning slowly to look more closely at the strangers from whom she'd just rescued her son. The man was so big he would have been frightening, except for the warm, easy smile he wore. He touched the brim of his hat and gave her a nod before dismounting and reaching up to help the woman down.
She was an attractive woman, probably in her thirties, with brown hair in a long ponytail. She put her hands on the man's shoulders as he helped her down. Then they both turned to look at the little boy, with his dark hair and striking blue eyes, sitting atop a pony, wearing a cowboy hat that was too big for him.
"These are some of my cousins, Garrett and Chelsea Brand, and their son, Bubba," Luke said to Jasmine. "Folks, this is Jasmine, and her son, Baxter."
Baxter had locked eyes on the little boy, riding that pony all by himself, and Jasmine knew she would never hear the end of this one. Even as she looked on, the boy called Bubba swung one leg over his saddle and leaped to the ground. It was all Jasmine could do not to shout a warning, certain he would hurt himself. But he didn't. He marched right up to Baxter instead.
"Hi."
"Hi," Baxter said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"You want to
"Odd jobs?"
He nodded. "Yeah, mostly courtesy of my cousins. Let's see, between them they have a cattle ranch, a horse ranch, a dude ranch, a veterinary clinic, a martial arts school—"
She held up a hand. "I get it. You've got a lot of family in town."
"You didn't even let me get to the P.I., the sheriff, the archaeologist and the shrink."
She tried to keep her face expressionless when he mentioned the sheriff. But she couldn't help but flash back to that cop, Petronella, standing over Rosebud's body, looking up at her. The same man she'd seen commit a murder—the man who'd taken a shot at her son.
"Actually, now that I think about it, you could probably find work with any of them, if you're looking."
She shook herself out of the disturbing memory and glanced into the next room to see that Baxter had settled down in front of the TV again. It wasn't good for him, all that television. "I would mink you'd be pushing me to leave here, not giving me job tips that might keep me around even longer."
He shrugged. "This thing with the property will get settled one way or another no matter what I do," he said. "Frankly, I'm more concerned about your son right now than I am about who wins a fight over a house."
She tipped her head to one side. He was trying to get to her by feigning concern for Baxter. It was low. She'd seen it before. Never done quite this well or convincingly, though.
"So what do you do for a living, Jasmine?" She looked him dead in the eye. "I'm a dancer."
His brows rose. "Really? What, ballet?"
Still watching him, she said, "Exotic." His face stilled, mouth frozen into a thin line as he slowly digested that bit of information.
"You're a—'' Glancing toward Baxter, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You're a stripper?"
"That's right. So about that job you're going to help me find..."
"Mommy, Mommy, look! Horses! Real live horses! Just like on TV!"
Jasmine had to pull hard to yank her gaze away from Luke Brand's probing one, but she did, getting to her feet and going to the living room just as Baxter pulled the door open and ran outside.
There were people out there. Strangers on horseback, riding up to the house like something out of an old western. Jasmine sprinted after her son, her heart in her throat, and caught him just as he reached the dangerous hooves. She scooped him up, held him hard, her heart pounding as she turned and carried him back toward the house.
Luke stood there on the top step, looking at her, a deep frown etched between his brows. Then he looked past her, and his expression changed. He smiled, waved. "Garrett, Chelsea, good to see you. Hey, Bubba! How's my best cowboy?"
"I rode all the way all by myself," a child's voice shouted.
Jasmine lifted her head, turning slowly to look more closely at the strangers from whom she'd just rescued her son. The man was so big he would have been frightening, except for the warm, easy smile he wore. He touched the brim of his hat and gave her a nod before dismounting and reaching up to help the woman down.
She was an attractive woman, probably in her thirties, with brown hair in a long ponytail. She put her hands on the man's shoulders as he helped her down. Then they both turned to look at the little boy, with his dark hair and striking blue eyes, sitting atop a pony, wearing a cowboy hat that was too big for him.
"These are some of my cousins, Garrett and Chelsea Brand, and their son, Bubba," Luke said to Jasmine. "Folks, this is Jasmine, and her son, Baxter."
Baxter had locked eyes on the little boy, riding that pony all by himself, and Jasmine knew she would never hear the end of this one. Even as she looked on, the boy called Bubba swung one leg over his saddle and leaped to the ground. It was all Jasmine could do not to shout a warning, certain he would hurt himself. But he didn't. He marched right up to Baxter instead.
"Hi."
"Hi," Baxter said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"You want to
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