Jeannie Watt - Harlequin Superromance September 2017 Box Set

Taylor checked in and rolled her suitcase along the carpeted hallway to her first-floor room. Her last night of privacy. She’d assumed that she’d spend it stretched out on the bed watching bad television—which had become something of a habit since she’d been laid off—but instead she fell asleep almost instantly. She woke up a few hours later, disoriented. The lights were on and an infomercial blared away on the television. Instead of learning how a Wonder Blend could change her life, she snapped off the TV and peeled out of her clothes, crawling under the covers in her underwear. So very tired…

A car alarm outside her window brought Taylor fully upright in bed. She heard the sound of a kid’s laughter, followed by a man’s warning voice, and then the alarm shut off. Taylor lay back against the pillows, noting that it was daylight before snagging her phone off the nightstand and checking the time.

Eight thirty!

She practically sprang out of bed.

She never slept that late—not even when she stayed up until the early hours. Maybe it was the altitude or something. She headed to the bathroom, showered and dressed. What if that guy was out doing farm stuff by the time she arrived? She’d have to hunt him down or spend the day cooling her heels and waiting. Not acceptable.

By nine o’clock she was checked out of the hotel, her laptop case slung over her shoulder, rolling her luggage with one hand and hanging on to a much-needed cup of coffee with the other. The door had just closed behind her when she stopped dead.

Oh, no.

Taylor dropped the cup, only vaguely aware of the hot coffee splashing on her leg before she started jogging across the parking lot, her laptop beating on her hip and her suitcase bouncing wildly behind her. She skidded to a stop next to the partially open trailer door. Barely able to breathe, she pulled the heavy metal door the rest of the way open and peered inside, her stomach going tight when she saw the ransacked mess inside. Taylor blinked at the clothing carnage, then noted the neatly cut padlock lying on the ground next to her feet.

The bastards!

The trailer wasn’t as full as it had been, but she had no idea what had been stolen. Everything was jumbled up, messed up, screwed up…just like her life.

“Are you okay?”

She gave a small start, then turned to see a man with a small child in his arms standing behind her. “No. I’ve been robbed.” In Eagle Valley, Montana. It just wasn’t right.

“That stinks. I’ll go get the manager.”

“Thank you.” Taylor went to the SUV and peered in through the window, her heart pounding so hard she was having a hard time taking a full breath. Her small jewelry armoire was still in the back seat of the SUV, covered by an old blanket, along with her desktop computer and monitor, which sat on the floorboards, covered with a couple of old towels. Unfortunately, she’d put everything else—her cookware, her bedding, her clothing—in the trailer, and probably half the stuff was gone.

Welcome to Montana, Taylor.

* * *

WHAT WAS IT about balers that made them break down whenever they were most needed? In the case of Karl’s old baler, it was probably a matter of the thing being almost twice as old as Cole was. He’d had the option of leasing Karl’s equipment—some new, some old—or coming up with his own. He’d decided to lease, and still thought it was the best option, if he could get the baler back into commission.

After an hour-long wrestling match, he decided to break for a quick lunch, maybe with a beer chaser, then go back to it. He was on his way into the house when an SUV pulling a trailer slowed and then turned into the driveway.

His stomach tightened. She was here. His space was officially invaded. But, as Karl said, the likelihood of her staying long was nil. How often would he see her anyway? She didn’t seem to be the type to hang around when there were things to accomplish elsewhere. Bottom line, Karl was playing hardball with his granddaughter, but he loved her, and Cole was going to do whatever he could to help Karl out. He owed the guy for letting him escape from the guest ranch. Bottom line, he was going to make the best of a bad situation and hope against hope that she got a job and moved ASAP.

Taylor pulled the SUV to a stop directly in front of the barn door, thereby making access impossible, but one look at her face when she got out of the vehicle made the request to park elsewhere die on his lips.

“Are you okay?”

Her gaze snapped up to his. “No.” The word dropped like a rock. A big, heavy one.

Years of working with guests had taught Cole that sometimes it was best to simply wait. Most people eventually let fly with whatever was bothering them.

“I got robbed.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

“I spent the night in a hotel in the Eagle Valley, and when I got up this morning, someone had cut the lock and gone through my stuff.”

“Did they take anything?”

“I don’t know. I have to go through my belongings and send a list to the sheriff’s office.”

“Well, that sucks.” Because whoever had robbed her was probably someone passing through and she’d never get anything back. There wasn’t a lot of crime in the Eagle Valley.

“Yeah, it does.”

So much for climbing on his tractor and disappearing into the fields.

“Do you want some coffee or something?” She looked as if she could use a strong belt of whiskey—or, in her case, perhaps flavored vodka—and he didn’t blame her.

“No. I want to unload what’s left of my stuff and go through it.” She gestured toward the house with her chin. “Would it be possible to just move it into the house now?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because it makes no sense to move my stuff to the bunkhouse, then back to the house after your month of rent elapses—you only paid for one month, right?”

“Right,” Cole said noncommittally. Did she really think that he was going to move to accommodate her?

“The first of the month is only a week away.”

“And…?”

“Instead of moving my stuff twice and yours once, we could move mine once and yours once.”

Really? For a moment, Cole considered it. A very brief moment. Whether she’d just been robbed or not, this woman needed to be taken down a peg. Or two. She was so obviously used to getting her way and telling other people how it was going to be that for once in his life, Cole wasn’t going to do the good-guy thing.

“I’m not moving into the bunkhouse,” he said.

“You’re renting the house from month to month. After this month is over, we’re switching.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “No.”

“My grandfather made it clear—”

“I don’t think he did. Not to you anyway. He told me that his granddaughter would be in the bunkhouse until she got a job. Those exact words. Granddaughter. Bunkhouse. Until she got a job. Not until the month is over.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Call him.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Add a little more stress to his life instead of just doing the right thing.”

Her blue eyes grew fiery. Oh, yeah. Not too many people had stood up to the princess. And after years of smiling and taking guest abuse, Cole had to admit to feeling a certain amount of satisfaction at not taking it anymore.

“This is ridiculous.”

“I agree. The bunkhouse is totally habitable. You’ll be gone before long and I’ll still be here.”

Her chest rose and fell, and Cole could see that a mighty battle was waging.

He hooked a thumb in his belt loop. “I’m not leaving the house.”

“Fine.” She almost spat the word out. “For now.” She jerked open the back door of the SUV and hauled out a suitcase, her eyes narrowing as she turned back to him. “You may not be correct when you say that you’ll be here for longer than me.”