Judy Duarte - Almost Perfect

“We don’t have to decide that yet. I’ve still got some dishes left in the cupboard.” He laughed, then blew out a deep breath and nodded toward Sam. “I’m more concerned about cleaning up the little piglet. Would you mind helping?”

The poor kid was covered from the tips of his downy fine hair to the mismatched socks he wore. Apparently, Uncle Jake hadn’t taken time to put on his shoes. Or maybe they’d been lost in the clutter.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t arrived?” she asked.

He shot her one of those bad-boy grins. “Taken him out back and hosed him off, I guess.”

Maggie lifted a brow and scrutinized her handsome cowboy friend. “Are you kidding? You haven’t been hosing him down in the yard, have you?”

“No.” He laughed again. “I was joking, Maggie. Actually, I’ve been filling the tub with warm, soapy water and swishing him around.”

Uncle Jake was undoubtedly out of his element. The past few days must have been comical, and Maggie wished she could have witnessed them firsthand.

“Doctor,” Kayla said, her voice far more serious than that of her uncle. “Do you read stories to kids?”

Maggie smiled at the girl. “I haven’t had too many opportunities, but if you have some storybooks, I’d be happy to read to you.”

“Goodie,” Kayla said. “Because uncles don’t like to read.” Kayla shot an exasperated look at Jake, and Maggie realized it had been a bone of contention between the two.

She could certainly understand Kayla’s frustration. Kids loved to listen to stories. Parents who didn’t read to their children did them a huge disservice. Maybe she would have to work on Jake. Some people didn’t believe an old dog could learn new tricks, but she disagreed.

“I’ll just have to talk your uncle into reading you a story once in a while.” She slid him a sly smile.

And Jake did his damnedest to return a grin, even though he wanted to scoff and stomp outside. Kayla was always grumpy when he refused to read aloud.

“Reading to children is good for them,” Maggie added. “It helps them develop learning skills, not to mention a love of books.”

Jake didn’t doubt that for a minute. Heck, he felt like a real jerk whenever he told Kayla he didn’t have time to read or just plain didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was illiterate. He read just fine—quietly and to himself. But he still remembered the humiliation of stuttering over simple words when forced to perform in front of an audience: the snickers of kids who could read better than him, the way Mrs. Bridger cleared her throat and told him to start all over at the beginning of the passage.

His refusal to speak out loud in class served his pride well, but it also resulted in regular visits to the principal and hours of detention.

“Guess what,” Kayla said to Maggie. “I already know my letters and sounds. And I’m not even in kindergarten yet.”

His niece was smart; that was for darn sure. Rosa had tried to talk Jake into letting her start kindergarten this year, but he’d said no.

He’d told Rosa that Kayla needed time to get used to the other changes in her life, which was true. But he worried about sending her off to school, especially with her disability, and wanted to protect her for as long as he could. Next year, when she was six, would be soon enough.

“After I get your brother cleaned up and the kitchen scrubbed down,” Maggie said, “we can take time for a story or two.”

Kayla clapped her hands. “I’m glad you came to help us.”

Maggie slid Jake another teasing smile, one that suggested she intended to prod him until he took Sam and Kayla on his lap and read them a story each night before bedtime.

Before he could come up with a retort or change the subject, a shrill voice called from the entry.

“Yoo-hoo!”

Victoria Winston. Jake blew out a heavy breath. Not her. Not now.

“Jake, are you in the kitchen?” Victoria called.

Maggie raised her brows, asking, it seemed, for some kind of explanation, if not an introduction. But she’d figure it out soon enough.

“Yeah, Vickie. I’m in here.”

Maggie watched, as an attractive woman dressed in designer Western wear sauntered into the kitchen, filling the room with a heavy dose of Chanel No. 5. Expensive denim hugged her hips, and a low-cut blouse flaunted perky breasts no bra could contain.

The tall, leggy brunette must be one of the wealthy guests of the ranch, Maggie suspected. But the sexually charged smile she slipped Jake indicated she was more than a guest.

Maggie crossed her arms. The faded jeans and old sweatshirt she wore suddenly seemed blousy and oversized, and she wished she would have taken time to at least put on some lipstick.

The woman scrunched a makeup laden face at the mess, but when she spotted Maggie, her smile lit up like a Macy’s department store on Christmas Eve. “Oh! Looks like the baby-sitter finally arrived.”

The baby-sitter? Had Jake told the woman that Maggie was coming to look after the children? Had he implied she was hired help and not just a friend offering a favor?

Vickie scanned the length of Maggie, smiling as though she’d passed some kind of inspection. She winked at Jake, in a sly, foxy way. “You should have a lot more free time now.”

Maggie had a sudden urge to clobber them both, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Vickie, this is Dr. Templeton. She’s a pediatrician and an old friend.” Jake turned to Maggie. “This is one of our guests, Victoria Winston.”

Vickie didn’t seem to be the outdoor, dude ranch type. A high-class spa would seem to be her style. But her obvious attraction to Jake indicated she’d planned her vacation well.

It seemed this sly, female fox had a plan to capture a prize hound dog. It was an age-old game, and Maggie wondered whether Jake would take the bait.

Years ago, back when Maggie used to be a guest herself, one of the lady guests had made an obvious play for Jake’s uncle. Maggie had always figured the lonely woman had set her sights on sleeping with a real live cowboy and signed up for a stint at the dude ranch with that sole purpose in mind.

Back then, she’d thought it kind of funny. But there didn’t seem to be anything humorous about Vickie the vixen and her obvious attraction to the cowboy with his share of female conquests.

“Well, now,” Vickie said. “A nanny with a medical degree is just the kind of sitter I’d hire, if I were inclined to have a few rugrats of my own.”

Maggie doubted the woman would risk marring her body with stretch marks, let alone any of the other subtle differences brought on by childbirth. She seemed too showy, too self-absorbed, too groomed to perfection.

Vickie extended her arm, gold bangles clanging upon a sparkling tennis bracelet. “How do you do?”

Maggie took the proffered hand, noting the cool, silky texture and polished nails that boasted of regular manicures. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Jake, honey,” Vickie said, batting mascara-thickened lashes. “Now you can take me on one of those late-night rides that was advertised in the brochure. Last time I asked, you mentioned not having someone to look after the kids.” Tinted lips curled into a sly, take-me-to-bed smile.

The vixen turned to Maggie. “You work full-time, right? And the kiddies will be sleeping….”

Maggie shot a glance at Jake, wondering what he’d tell the busty, can’t-wait-to-get-naked-in-the-moonlight brunette.

“Rosa’s hospitalization has set me back. I’ve got a lot of things I need to do. I’m afraid the late-night ride is out of the question. Maybe next time.”

A cherry-red bottom lip pooched out in a little-rich-girl pout.

What would Jake have told the vixen had Rosa not been out on disability? Had Maggie not been witness to the woman’s blatant attempt to spend some late-night hours with the good-looking cowboy?