Cathy Thacker - The Long, Hot Texas Summer

His dad paused. “So this is a one-day thing?”

“All summer.”

Wade blinked in surprise. “You’re not really equipped for that, are you son?”

Justin tensed. Here we go again. He turned and walked into his office. “Dad, if this is where you tell me if I’m serious about all this, I need to go back to school and get a degree in psychology...”

Wade looked around the sparsely decorated administrator’s office, which at the moment was littered with the paperwork Justin was still trying to get through. “Your mother and I raised you to find what you’re good at and do it to the best of your ability.” He sank into a chair in front of Justin’s desk and gave him a long, level look. “What you are good at, Justin, is finance and accounting.”

Justin slid a stack of papers into a mailing envelope, sealed it shut and ran it through the postage meter. “I’m doing that here.”

Wade steepled his hands in front of him. “To a much lesser degree than what you were doing five years ago.”

Which, for his ambitious father and mother, was unacceptable, Justin knew. They wanted all five of their sons to have the same kind of financial security and success they’d built for themselves, while still holding on to their core values. “It’s important work, Dad.”

Wade’s expression softened. “I’m not discounting that. It’s why I made a sizable donation to help get the Laramie Boys Ranch up and running and accepted a position on the board of directors.”

Something Justin was beginning to regret. In hindsight, he saw answering to his father, even among a group of other involved adults, might not be such a good thing. “Then...?”

“Your mother and I are worried about you.”

Justin grimaced. “Why?”

“Clearly, you’ve yet to get over everything that happened in Fort Worth—first your broken engagement to Pilar, and then...”

Justin heard a feminine throat clear, followed by a knock. He and his father turned to see Amanda standing in the open door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, looking gorgeous as ever, despite her hot and sweaty state. “But have either of you seen Lamar?”

* * *

ACTUALLY, GIVEN THE conversation she’d overhead inside the ranch’s office, Amanda wasn’t at all sorry to interrupt. It sounded as though Justin McCabe needed a break. Having been the target of a great deal of parental lecturing growing up, she knew just how demoralizing such sessions could be. Not to mention the damage they inevitably did to the relationship. Although, unlike her mom and dad—who had seen her mostly as a stumbling block to their happiness—Justin’s parent seemed to genuinely care about him.

She continued, “I just got back with more wood and...”

Justin shot out of his chair, his expression filled with concern. “What do you mean you just got back?”

Why was he making a big deal out of this? “I had to run to the lumberyard to pick up the rest of the baseboard.” She paused. “He didn’t tell you?”

Justin shoved a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen him. I thought he was with you.”

Justin’s father looked on with a mixture of resignation and disapproval.

Amanda felt for Justin. Whether or not the two of them should have seen this coming was a moot point. She swallowed uncomfortably. “He should have reported back to you about an hour and a half ago....”

Justin stalked around the desk to her side. “Where could he be?”

Amanda turned to let Justin through. She caught a whiff of soap and man as he passed by. “I don’t know.” She was, however, willing to help search.

Together, the three of them looked through the lodge. Eventually, they found Lamar sound asleep in the lounge on the second floor. The TV was on, the sound turned all the way down.

Relieved yet still disapproving, Wade McCabe told his son curtly, “I’ll leave you to handle this.”

Tense with embarrassment, Justin nodded at his dad. “Thanks again for bringing the fans.”

Wade nodded and left.

Lamar opened his eyes, stretching lazily. He smelled of sweat and bubblegum. “Hey,” he said to Amanda. “You’re back.”

“Yes.” She tried not to think about how much trouble Lamar was already in, and he’d only been at the ranch for half a day. “I am.”

Justin clenched his jaw with frustration. “Is this where you’ve been the entire time she was gone?” he demanded.

“Yeah. So?”

“You were supposed to find me when Amanda no longer needed your help.”

Lamar rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, well, all you were doing was office work. I’m no good at that.”

Justin gave Lamar a reproving frown. “That’s not for you to decide. This is community service, remember? To get credit for your time, you have to do what you’re told.”

Lamar sat up and dropped his feet to the floor. Belligerence radiated from him in waves. “Is it time for lunch yet?” he asked, completely ignoring Justin’s reprimand. “I’m really hungry.”

Amanda’s stomach had been growling for the past half hour, too. “I’ve got some sandwiches made if anyone wants to join me.”

“Sounds good to me,” the teen said.

Amanda looked at Justin. Temper again under control, he nodded. Then he cautioned Lamar, “Just don’t do that again, okay? For both our sakes, I need to know where you are at all times.”

“Okay,” Lamar muttered.

Relieved to have that settled, Amanda led the way to her trailer. She invited the guys inside, figuring there was safety in numbers. Wrong. The moment they stepped inside, her refuge felt filled to the brim with testosterone. And much smaller. Especially with Justin standing right beside her. Of course, that was probably because at six foot five his head almost reached the ceiling.

“Wow!” Lamar whistled appreciatively as he surveyed the comfortable space she had worked so hard to create. More a mini-apartment than camper, the back half was all bedroom and bath. The front half of the Airrstream housed the kitchen—with a full-size fridge, microwave, stove, sink and even a tiny dishwasher. The butcher-block tabletop between the roomy banquettes doubled as a work space, and there were plenty of built-in racks for her pantry items and cookware.

“You must really like to cook.” Lamar checked out the bins of fresh fruits and veggies, her complex variety of dried chili peppers and some freshly made tortillas.

Amanda nodded proudly. “It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Where did you learn?” the teen asked.

She opened up the fridge and brought out the three large grilled-chicken wraps with lettuce, cheese and Caesar dressing that she’d made from the leftovers of the previous evening’s dinner. “My grandmother and grandfather. Cooking was something they liked to do together, so when I moved in with them I started cooking, too.”

“Sounds fun,” Justin said.

“It was.” It was the first time she’d known what it was like to be part of a happy family.

The handsome Texan’s fingers brushed hers as she handed him a flavored sports drink. “Was? You don’t do it anymore?”

Trying not to react to the husky caress of his voice, the warm feel of his fingers or the tenderness in Justin’s brilliant blue eyes, Amanda shook her head. “Occasionally, but not as much since my grandmother died of congestive heart failure a couple of years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Justin and Lamar said in unison.

Amanda accepted their condolences with a nod, aware of a growing sense of intimacy she didn’t expect. Wasn’t supposed to want. And knew would be unwise to encourage. “So,” she said, pushing her lingering grief away. “Why don’t the two of you tell me a little more about the area. What should I know about Laramie County?”