Chapter Two

  Joss had always considered himself an easygoing guy. He had a good circle of friends and was close to his siblings, ran a profitable business and owned several investment properties in town. Plus, he volunteered with the local emergency services, had done a stint on the PTA, gave a generous donation each year to the veterans’ home and generally tried to be a good citizen—something he also tried to instill in his kids. People didn’t usually get under his skin—but Marnie Jackson certainly did. He had no real idea why and didn’t plan on wasting time wondering about it. Not when Mrs. Floyd clearly needed medical attention.

  “I’ll get you to the hospital,” he said and looked toward his eldest daughter. “Sissy, get Mrs. Floyd’s handbag and coat and grab the Ranger’s keys, will you.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.” The older woman sighed. “We could just wait for Lucy to get home.”

  Lucy Parker was a doctor and lived next door with her husband and young son. Joss figured she was on duty at the hospital.

  “Of course, it’s not a bother,” he said gently, helping her to her feet. When she winced with pain, he realized she’d done significant damage to her ankle. “Or maybe we should call an ambulance?”

  “Oh, no,” Mrs. Floyd replied quickly. “I can manage to get into your truck. No ambulance, please.”

  He linked his arm across her shoulder and supported her as she hobbled across the room. They were halfway across the room when he remembered his passenger.

  “I guess you’ll have to come with us,” he said, thinking it was the last thing he wanted.

  She nodded vaguely and followed. Joss knew his daughters were curious about their visitor, but he wasn’t in any sort of mood to offer any more explanations. He helped Mrs. Floyd to his truck and maneuvered her into the back seat, with both girls flanking her on either side. It left the front passenger seat vacant and within seconds she hopped in. Weird, he thought, how her very presence in the front made him silently regard her as some kind of interloper. Really, he was giving her way too much of his thinking time. Maybe it was the way her perfume, or something, swirled around in the air and lingered, and uncharacteristically rattled his senses. It was flowery, like jasmine. Maybe it was lavender. He couldn’t be sure. He quickly put the thought out of his head and got on with the job of driving to the hospital.

  It was Clare who broke the silence barely ten seconds later.

  “Are you really gonna be my teacher?”

  The woman beside him turned her head, glanced at him for a microsecond and then looked toward the rear seat. “Well, I am going to be teaching the fifth grade at the Cedar River Elementary School. Are you in the fifth grade?”

  “Yes,” Clare replied quickly. “Mrs. Corelli is usually my teacher, but she’s having a baby. Have you taught the fifth grade before?”

  “No,” she said and smiled, and Joss noticed she had nice teeth. Truth be told, she had a nice-shaped mouth, too. Not too wide, with full, pale pink lips. She wore glasses, but even in the dimness of the vehicle he could see that her eyes were a clear blue, with thick dark lashes. So, maybe she wasn’t as ordinary as he’d first thought. “But I’ve taught college.”

  Joss didn’t know much about her other than the fact she was a college professor, wasn’t married, came from California and had excellent references. He’d left the details to the local Realtor who dealt with his other rental properties and wasn’t interested in knowing anything other than if she’d be a responsible tenant and pay her rent on time.

  Clare spoke again. “I had Miss Jeong last year, but she left when her boyfriend got a job at ESPN.”

  “What’s ESPN?” she asked.

  Joss waited a few seconds and then heard both his daughters and Mrs. Floyd start laughing. He joined in for a moment before he replied to her query.

  “Cable sports channel.”

  She made a face. “I don’t like sports much. I prefer to read.”

  “I like reading, too,” Sissy said, and he glanced at his eldest child in the rear vision mirror.

  Melissa—whose younger sister had years ago nicknamed her Sissy, a name that had stuck—was growing up so fast. Too fast, he sometimes thought. Soon, he imagined, he’d be dealing with boyfriends, the angst of picking out the right college and then the trauma—for him, anyway—of prom. She was a good student, quiet and studious, and showed an interest in going to medical school. But for now, Joss figured he just needed to get through the high school years.

  He zoned out of the chatter, glancing every now and then at his daughters and the way Mrs. Floyd was putting on a brave face, and deliberately ignoring the scent of lavender or jasmine or whatever it was.

  It took over ten minutes to get to the hospital and he pulled up in one of the parking spaces out front. It took another few minutes to get Mrs. Floyd into the ER. A nurse quickly approached and a wheelchair was provided. Joss ushered his daughters and her into the waiting area while the nurse took Mrs. Floyd into triage.

  “Is Mrs. Floyd going to be okay, Daddy?” Clare, who was very attached to the older woman, asked.

  “Of course she is, honey,” he replied and ruffled her hair and pulled out a few dollar bills from his wallet. “Why don’t you and your sister go and get something from the vending machine,” he suggested. He waited until both girls were across the room before he spoke to the woman standing barely five feet from him, her arms tightly wrapped around herself, and wearing his coat. “Miss Jackson, I think you—”

  “Doctor,” she said, cutting him off.

  Joss frowned. “What?”

  “Actually, it’s Dr. Jackson,” she replied and then added, “I have a PhD in history.”

  Joss stared at her, still frowning, wondering if he looked as dense as he felt. “Huh? You want me to call you Dr. Jackson?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I was only...” Her words trailed off and she shrugged. “Please, call me Marnie.”

  Joss didn’t want to call her anything. “So, do you know anyone in town? Is there somewhere you can stay?”

  She shook her head. “No. But I’ll figure something out,” she said and gestured toward his daughters and the sign toward triage. “You have enough going on without being saddled with my problems.”

  She was right, he did, but that didn’t mean he was about to leave her stranded in a town where she didn’t know anyone. “We’ll sort something out, okay? Just... Look, I hate to ask, but can you stay here with the girls while I check on Mrs. Floyd? I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I don’t want to leave them here alone.”

  She looked a little surprised at his request, but her expression quickly softened. “Of course. Go ahead. They’ll be fine with me, don’t worry.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. I... Thank you.”

  Joss headed back to triage and managed to speak with the doctor on duty. Mrs. Floyd was going to be taken to X-ray, and although it didn’t seem as though she had fractured her ankle, at the very least she had sustained a nasty sprain.

  “You need to get the girls home,” Mrs. Floyd insisted. “It’s getting late and Sissy has to study for a math test on Monday.”

  He knew that. “I’ll wait and drive you home.”

  She tutted and waved a hand. “Just call my son, Alec. You have his number. He’ll pick me up. You heard the doctor—it’s probably only a sprain, so nothing serious to worry about.”

  He didn’t like the idea. “I think I should—”

  “I insist,” Mrs. Floyd said.

  Joss knew the older woman could be stubborn about things—it was one of the reasons why she had been the perfect caregiver for his daughters. “Only if you’re sure?”

  “I’m positive,” she replied and shooed him. “Go, I mean it.”

  Joss called Mrs. Floyd’s son who lived in Deadwood and then returned to the waiting room. The girls were sitting together, opposite her, and chatting as though everything was situation normal.

  “Yeah, our mom died,” Sissy said, and he halted near the doorway as a familiar pain hit him directly in the center of the chest. “A long time ago. I remember her, though.”

  “I don’t,” Clare added and he heard the anguish in his daughter’s words profoundly. “I mean, sometimes I think I remember her...but then the feeling goes away.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” she—Marnie—said quietly. “I lost my own mom recently, so I can imagine how much you both must miss her.”

  “I really do.” Sissy sighed. “She had brown hair and was really pretty.”

  “My mom was pretty, too,” she said and smiled.

  Joss saw his daughters nodding, heard the genuine compassion in Marnie Jackson’s voice, and some of his irritation dissipated. Hell, he wasn’t usually such an ass, but she’d caught him on a bad day. He was neck-deep in work at the shop, Sissy had been at him to go dress shopping and to get her navel pierced, and his in-laws wanted to see more of the girls.

  Plus, Billie-Jack wants to reconnect.

  Joss shook off the thought. He didn’t want to think of his estranged father. He wanted to get his kids home.

  She looked up and met his gaze and he managed a small smile. She returned the gesture and he looked at the floor and then thrust his hands in his jacket pockets.

  “Ladies,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’ve called Mrs. Floyd’s son and he’s on his way. It’s getting late, so we should go home.” He stopped speaking and looked at the woman standing beside his daughters. “And I guess you can—”

  “Marnie can stay in my room, Dad,” Sissy announced, cutting him off, speaking as though she’d made the decision and it was the most practical solution all round. “I’ll sleep on the roll-out bed in your office, the one Uncle Grant uses whenever he’s stayed over.”

  Grant was his younger brother. He used to live in Rapid City until a few months earlier and had often crashed at his place when he was visiting. Now he lived permanently in Cedar River with his new bride, Winona. They also had a baby on the way.

  Joss got his thoughts back to the problem at hand—Marnie Jackson staying overnight in his house. It seemed like his daughters had the whole arrangement planned out. “Ah...sure,” he said, discomfort climbing up his limbs.

  “I couldn’t possibly inconvenience you like that,” she said quickly.

  “Do you have another option?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied. “But I...”

  “Then, it’s settled,” he said, not looking any happier about the idea than she was—but Joss didn’t have an alternative to suggest, either. And it was only one night, right? And since she was going to be the tenant in his house down the road, anyway, it wasn’t such a big deal. He could handle it.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly and hiked her tote onto her shoulder.

  “No problem,” he replied and shrugged.

  It didn’t take long before they were back in his truck. Joss ignored the way her perfume swirled around, and quickly concentrated on getting his daughters home. The drive back seemed to take forever, though, and he was stuck on the idea of a stranger staying in his house. Maybe he should take her out to his brother’s place? Mitch and his wife, Tess, certainly had plenty of room in the big house on the Triple C Ranch. But it was close to eleven o’clock, the girls needed to get to sleep and he wasn’t about to intrude on his brother so late at night. Tomorrow, he thought, he’d figure something else out.

  He drove into the driveway and noticed how she stared at her car on the back of his tow truck. “I’ll take your car to the shop and get a look at the damage tomorrow,” he assured her as they got out of the Ranger. “For now, I’ll get your bags. Anything in particular you need?”

  The girls were quickly out of the vehicle and heading for the house and Joss lingered by the back of the Ranger for a moment, waiting for her to respond. “There’s an overnight bag in the back seat and the smaller of the two cases in the trunk. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m really sorry about this,” she said and sighed heavily. “I can’t believe there’s nothing available in town tonight. I should have planned things much better and double-checked my reservation with the B and B. If I’d known, I might have been able to get a room at the hotel.”

  “I doubt it,” Joss said and managed a grunt as he climbed up onto the truck, pulled her keys from his pocket and opened the car to retrieve her bags. “The convention has been planned for months,” he added, and when he got down, she had her hand out for the bags.

  “Well, I’m usually much more organized,” she said, her hands still out.

  “I got it,” he said, tucking the smaller bag in the crook of his arm. The bigger of the bags weighed a ton and he figured she had more pairs of the million-dollar heels inside. Sissy had used her own key to get inside and Joss ushered his houseguest up the stairs.

  “You know, I can use the roll-out bed. I don’t want to put your daughter out of her bed and —”

  “She’s already offered,” he said, cutting her off.

  “Well, then, I’m happy enough to stay at the rental house,” she said as they climbed the steps. “I’m moving in Wednesday anyway and I could pay an extra week’s rent.”

  “Without plumbing and with the smell of fresh paint?” he queried and raised a brow. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d be really happy. As the landlord it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Joss glanced at her car. “Yeah, sure looks like it.”

  Her mouth tightened around the edges and he thought she was going to offer some annoyed retort, but she didn’t. She bit back whatever she wanted to say and then smiled extra sweetly, like the action made her churn inside but she wasn’t going to let him see she was irritated by his sarcastic response.

  “Look,” he said and sighed. “It was an accident, I get it.”

  Once they were inside, Joss headed directly for Sissy’s bedroom and dropped the bags at the foot of the bed. He turned on his heels and saw Marnie Jackson standing directly behind him, one hand on her hip, the other held up in midair.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the query in her expression.

  She sighed in exasperation. “Ah...nothing.”

  Joss’s brows shot up. “Are you sure?”

  She shrugged. “Well, it’s just that you say you’re okay with my being here, Mr. Culhane, but your body language kind of says otherwise.”

  Joss’s brows shot up and he straightened his back. “My body language?”

  Color leached up her neck and she waved an arm. “Well, you know, the way you...move and such.”

  The flush on her cheeks intensified and Joss bit back a grin. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman blush up close. Plus, she wasn’t as ordinary as he’d first thought. For one, she had incredibly blue eyes and her blondish brown, shoulder-length hair swished when she moved. With her chin set at a defiant angle and her eyes glaring at him through her glasses, Joss experienced a little jolt of awareness that he was completely unprepared for.

  Not a chance, Culhane. Get a grip.

  “Ah, you’re watching me move?” he shot back.

  “Well, no,” she replied quickly. “I didn’t mean it like I was watching you...” Her words trailed off and she threw up both hands with clear exasperation. “Forget I said anything. Just know that I appreciate your hospitality, Mr. Culhane.”

  “Sure,” he said and shrugged, realizing he was being a jerk. “The bathroom is the second door on the right. The kitchen is down the hall and past the living room. Help yourself to whatever you want. I’ll get the girls settled for the night. And, it’s Joss.”

  “What?”

  “My name, it’s Joss.”

  He left the room quickly, ignoring the way her hair shone beneath the bedroom light, and the way his stomach was in knots. He wasn’t the guy who got wound up by a pretty face. Hell, she wasn’t even pretty, right?

  Wrong.

  * * *

  Marnie stared at her bags for a few moments and then looked around the room. It was a typical girls’ bedroom—not unlike the one she’d had when she’d spent time at her father’s home as a teenager. Stuck to the walls were several posters of the latest pop idols, and she was amused to see a popular teen magazine on the desk that had a picture of her cousin Shay on the front. She hadn’t seen her cousin for a while, but Shay Logan was one of the most successful country singers of the last decade and Marnie was very proud of her achievements.

  Marnie glanced at her bags. She’d kill for a shower...but the idea of standing naked beneath the water spray while Joss Culhane was just fifty feet away made her rethink the idea. Not that she felt unsafe—she didn’t. And his daughters were just down the hall. Plus, he didn’t seem to like her one iota. But deep down she was cautious by nature and he was a stranger and she had no intention of being any more vulnerable than she needed to be.

  She tucked her tote underneath the bed, grabbed her cell phone and headed down the hall.

  The kitchen was large, with Western red cedar cupboards, Shaker-style cabinets and dark gray stone countertops. There were pots hanging from metal grids, and rows of spices on shelves near the large gas oven. Marnie loved to cook and the frustrated chef inside her felt the instant urge to start chopping, stirring and tasting. There were a couple of abstract paintings on one wall, a large oak table with matching chairs and pottery mugs hanging from hooks on a tall dresser.

  “Everything okay?”

  She jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind her and quickly swiveled on her heel. Joss. Boy, he was impressive to look at. Great shoulders. Strong arms. Glittering green eyes and thick, inky lashes. And a golden brownish blond head of hair that she’d bet would feel divine threaded between her fingertips.

  Snap. Right. Out. Of. This.