Rich Rancher's Redemption

“You’ve got a way with little ones, don’t you?”

“Oh, I love babies,” Jillian admitted. “I used to think I’d have a houseful of my own.”

“You’ve got plenty of time for more babies.”

Yes, she did. But she didn’t have a man in her life and since that wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon, Jillian could admit to herself that Mac would most likely be an only child. Just as she had been. The difference was, Jillian would make sure her little girl never felt as though she weren’t important. Mac would never know what it was like to listen to her parents shout at each other. Never know what it was to have those parents walk away from her without a backward glance. She would never have to doubt that she was loved.

Sighing a little, she told herself she could indulge her love for babies right here—if she got the job.

“That’s little Danny Moses, isn’t it?” Lucy asked, taking a peek at the baby’s face.

“Sure is,” Ginger confirmed. “He’s good as gold, too. His mama’s out on a lunch date with his daddy, so we’re keeping him happy here.”

Jillian’s heart hurt a little as she held the baby and looked down into that tiny face. Days were going by so quickly it could make her head spin sometimes. It seemed like just yesterday Mac was this size and now she was talking and walking, and Jillian knew she had no time to lose—it was time to build that future she’d dreamed of.

“I’m glad Lucy brought you here today,” Ginger said thoughtfully.

“Oh, so am I,” Jillian told her, flashing a smile. “I don’t want to put you on the spot or anything but I really would love to work here.”

“That’s plain to see,” Ginger assured her and took the baby from Jillian. “I’ve got another woman coming in for an interview later this afternoon. Once that’s done, I’ll be in touch soon.”

Jillian forced a smile, though she wanted to say, Don’t meet anyone else, hire me. “Thank you.”

When they turned to go, Jillian didn’t see Ginger give Lucy a wink and a thumbs-up.

* * *

All right, Jesse kept his promise.

Jillian leaned on the corral fence and watched her daughter sitting atop what looked like a gigantic horse. The afternoon sun was bright, but the air was already warm. Early summer in Texas wasn’t that different from Vegas weather. Of course, that was where the similarities ended.

In Las Vegas, the city was bright, crowded, noisy and jammed with locals and tourists. There was never a quiet moment unless you left the city and then you were in the middle of a desert, with no shade, no water, no trees. No nothing.

Here, though, there were oak trees, rivers, lakes, and there was quiet when you wanted it and plenty of noise to be found when you didn’t. People were friendlier, less cynical. Jillian already knew more people in Royal after two weeks than she had known in Vegas after five years of living there. It was a different sort of feeling in small-town Texas and it was just what she wanted for her daughter. Mac would grow up in a place where people would know her, look out for her. She’d have friends and a home and a mother who would always be there for her.

It had been a big day so far. A new apartment—that would be fine once she fixed it up—and a job interview that she really hoped would work out. And now, she was back on a ranch staring at a cowboy who turned her insides to mush. Jillian’s thoughts dissolved when a delighted squeal pierced the air. She fixed her gaze on the big man walking beside her baby and that horse. Jesse had one strong hand on her little girl’s back, steadying her, while he held the horse’s reins in the other hand, keeping the animal just as steady, Jillian hoped.

“Don’t be worried. My kids are all great with horses.”

Jillian turned to watch Cora Lee Sanders walk up to join her at the fence. In her sixties, Cora Lee was about five feet three inches tall, had thick, wavy, shoulder-length gray hair and sharp, grayish green eyes. Today she wore dark blue jeans, a yellow shirt beneath a black jacket and black flats. She also boasted a silver belt buckle at her waist that glinted in the afternoon sun. Cora Lee was every inch a matriarch. There were lines in her face, of course, but they were etched there by laughter, tears and years of living that had made her the woman she was today.

“It just makes me nervous,” Jillian admitted. “That horse is so big compared to Mac.”

Cora Lee smiled, laid her forearms on the top rail of the fence and watched her son walk slowly around the corral. “I can understand that. As mothers, we all will do whatever it is we have to to watch out for our children.”