Arlene James - The Rancher's Answered Prayer

Apparently, she’d left her marriage with very little. Wyatt had been under the impression that belongings were divided equitably during a divorce. Maybe she and her husband hadn’t acquired much, but she and her ex should have had at least four or five years to acquire a few furnishings.

Had her ex sent her and her son into the world without the necessities? Wyatt frowned at the thought. Not that it was any of his business. Besides, he disliked the curiosity that her situation aroused in him. In fact, he disliked her, though he couldn’t honestly say why.

This situation wasn’t her fault, after all. When it came right down to it, what she did with this house was no business of his. The house and everything in it belonged to her. But what on earth had Dodd been thinking when he’d created this mess?

Wyatt hurriedly showered and dressed. He decided not to shave, despite his scruffy appearance. Staying clean-shaven was a near impossibility with his heavy beard, and he wasn’t eager to attempt a smooth shave with cold water. Plus, with daylight fading, he needed to leave time for the others to clean up.

Tina was next and dressed in fresh jeans and a baggy T-shirt. With her hair wet and her subtle makeup scrubbed away, she could have passed for sixteen. For the first time, her hair looked as dark as her gracefully arched brows.

She had the most amazing skin he’d ever seen. Her big, almond-shaped eyes were a bright shade of light brown, somewhere between amber and copper. Wyatt had to work at not staring.

Relieved when she went back into the bathroom to scrub the tub, he got Frankie ready for his bath. Then he helped Ryder carry in the hot water and fill the tub. After adding cool water to achieve the perfect temperature, Tina bathed the boys together and dressed them in pajamas.

With his dad gone to get dinner, Frankie crawled up into Wyatt’s lap at the old kitchen table while Tina scrubbed the table top. The odd domesticity of the situation felt both peculiar and satisfying at the same time.

He hadn’t shared a house with a woman in the nearly twenty years since his mother, Frances, had died, leaving him a fifteen-year-old with younger brothers, aged ten and five, to care for. Their father had been devastated after the auto accident that had taken his wife. Once he’d recovered from his own injuries, Albert Smith had buried himself in work and grief. The job of raising his younger brothers had chiefly fallen to Wyatt. Long before a heart attack had taken their father, almost six years ago now, Wyatt had assumed the role of family patriarch.

Jake’s wife, Jolene, had been the only significant female influence to enter the Smith realm in all the years since Frances’s death. As a soldier, Jolene had been as much warrior as woman in Wyatt’s estimation, so in many ways, she’d felt like one of the guys.

He couldn’t think of Tina Kemp that way.

It would be best then, Wyatt told himself, if he didn’t think of Tina at all.

As he entertained Frankie, Wyatt surreptitiously watched as Tina ruffled her damp hair with a towel. Women with short hair didn’t usually appeal to him, but Tina couldn’t have appeared more feminine.

The woman wasn’t just lovely—she was a beauty, which meant that this living arrangement was going to be a real trial.

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