Betsy Amant - The Rancher Next Door

The Riskiest Business Of All

For firefighter Caley Foster, every day is an adrenaline rush. Now that she’s back in Broken Bend, Louisiana, it’s clear that putting down roots may be just as tough as putting out fires. To her surprise, sweet Ava next door makes Caley’s new nanny job feel fulfilling. But Ava’s single father, rancher Brady McCullough, is a play-it-safe kind of fellow...not what Caley’s used to facing. He’s focused on protecting Ava—yet he can’t ignore Caley’s incredible effect on her. Or on his guarded heart. And with a leap of faith, they might both find life’s best adventure: love.

“Sort of dangerous up here, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look down, but focused on Caley’s eyes glittering in the moonlight. Talk about dangerous.

“The view is great.” She gestured to the sky. “It was one of the things I’d missed about country life.”

He felt himself being pulled in, like a moth to a lit candle. Against his will. Fascinated. Yet destined to get burned. “What else did you miss?”

“Peace and quiet. And space.”

“So why’d you leave?”

“Long story.”

Closed door on that topic. Probably for the best. He didn’t need to carry her secrets, even if some deep-rooted part of him wanted to.

“I better get back. Have a good night.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.” Caley smiled her goodbye, but didn’t make a move to go inside. She remained staring at the stars.

Leaving Brady to wish, as he ambled away, that he could see what she did.

BETSY ST. AMANT

loves polka-dot shoes, chocolate and sharing the good news of God’s grace through her novels. She has a bachelor’s degree in Christian communications from Louisiana Baptist University and is actively pursuing a career in inspirational writing. Betsy resides in northern Louisiana with her husband and daughter and enjoys reading, kickboxing and spending quality time with her family.

The Rancher Next Door

Betsy St. Amant

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom

which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire.

—Hebrews 12:28,29

To my husband, Brandon, who is both a cowboy and a fireman. I get the best of both worlds! I love you.

In memory of Rodney Roach—

beloved rancher who fought the good fight

and is now saddlin’ up in heaven.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for her constant support and belief in me, and to my editor, Emily Rodmell, for always knowing just where to take my stories to make them better! Also a sincere thank-you to my mother for being the world’s greatest Nana and giving me so many free hours of babysitting so I can write and stay somewhat sane. Thanks to my fabulous critique partner Georgiana, for catching all the typos I miss and letting me know when my characters get bloody lips or whiplash (wink). And as always, thanks to my bestie Lori, who has brainstormed more than one novel with me while we sit on the kitchen floor and toss bouncy balls

to our kids from four states away.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Caley Foster really wanted to put out a fire.

Or, for that matter, do anything more exciting than unload the rest of the boxes secured in the back of her beat-up red truck.

But that wasn’t going to happen today. With a resigned sigh, Caley hiked one booted foot on the tire, shimmied over the edge of the truck and landed with a thump in the bed crammed full of boxes and tubs. She’d have thought after living in nine different cities in the past three years that she’d be used to moving by now—but this time felt different. Maybe because this time, she had to stay awhile.

Too bad whoever said you can’t go home again hadn’t meant it literally.

Caley’s two-year-old black Labrador barked at her from the driveway as she began to shove yet another box across the rusted bed toward the open tailgate. “Scooter, like I told you before, it’s going to take me a while to find the dog biscuits.” She grunted as the box caught on an exposed bolt, and pushed again. Some days she almost regretted rescuing the hyper stray from a warehouse fire. But it was nice to take a friendly face along on her many travels, one who actually seemed to understand her.

Scooter barked again, and she wrinkled her nose at him. “Be patient, unless you want to do this work yourself.”

A sudden giggle floated on the breeze toward Caley and wrapped around her ears like a cozy set of muffs. She glanced up with surprise, midpush, just in time to see a young blonde girl perched on the fence dividing her meager property from the sprawling acres of the Double C Ranch next door—and just in time to send her cardboard box tumbling over the edge of the tailgate.

Caley winced. Hopefully that wasn’t the kitchenware, though it wouldn’t have been the first time after a move that she ended up at the discount store searching for dinner plates. She slid her petite frame off the tailgate and righted the box on the ground.

The girl timidly hopped off the fence and approached her. “Do you need help? Did anything break?” Her blue eyes widened with worry, and she twisted a long strand of hair anxiously around one finger as if she thought the accident was her fault.

Caley straightened and smiled at the girl, who looked about ten or eleven years old. The golden years. It was sweet of her to be concerned. “It’s all good. Thankfully, this was a box of pillows.” She rummaged through it one more time to be sure. “And apparently an apron. And a bird feeder.” She winked. “No wonder the box wasn’t labeled.”

The girl laughed again, and the sound warmed her heart. She’d missed being around kids. Her days spent nannying to earn a paycheck through college felt longer than just five years ago. It’d been nice to get an inside glimpse into families during that time—healthy, functioning families, that was.

A pinch of regret started in Caley’s stomach, and she shook her head to dislodge it. No use dredging up the past. She was back in Broken Bend, Louisiana, to enjoy the remaining years she had with her grandmother while Nonie occupied the nursing home, and Caley would do exactly that. No more regrets.

If she started thinking on those, she might never stop.

“Scooter, look.” Caley produced his sought-after box of canine treats from under a pillow and shook it. The eager dog pressed against her shins and barked, tail wagging hard enough to leave a bruise on her leg. She glanced at her new neighbor. “Want to feed him?”

The girl lit up with a bright smile, then hesitated, her grin fading as she looked over her shoulder toward the fence. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? He won’t bite, I promise.” She held out the box in one hand and offered a handshake with the other. “I’m Caley Foster. Looks like I’ll be your neighbor for a while. I’m just renting, though.” Why she felt the urge to clarify that to a kid, she wasn’t sure. Maybe for her own benefit. Temporary. Always temporary. Though this time, temporary held no definite boundaries. She’d be here as long as her grandma needed her—even if Broken Bend was the last place she had ever hoped to land again.

“I’m Ava. My dad owns the Double C Ranch.” Ava shook Caley’s hand, then pointed with one skinny arm behind her to the property on the other side of the fence.