A Conard County Baby
MOTHER… NANNY… BRIDE?On the run from an overbearing family and a violent fiancé, Hope Conroy takes refuge in Conard County, Wyoming. But what can a pregnant ex- socialite do to keep a roof over her head?Divorced rancher Jim Cashford never expected to be raising an angry child alone – he needs a second pair of hands! Despite Hope’s secrets, something tells him that she’s just what his daughter needs. And the more he gets to know his beautiful, wounded nanny, the more he yearns to heal her heart… and form the family they all long for.
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âI wasnât afraid of you. You donât need to worry about that.â
âMaybe you should,â he said, his mouth twisting. âNot to worry. Iâd never touch you without permission, but I still find myself wanting you.â
The bald admission stole her breath. All she could do was stare at him blankly, unable to even react.
âSo, thatâs part of what I was apologizing for. Iâll keep my distance, but you might as well know. Now that you do, if you get uneasy about staying here, just tell me. Iâll see that you leave here with enough in your pocket to go somewhere else you can feel safer.â
With that he rose, bade her good night and climbed the stairs.
Stunned, Hope sat on in solitude, her mind spinning, her heart filled with his blunt admission. Astonishingly, she didnât at all feel like running
Conard County: The Next Generation!
RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.
To single parents, my admiration.
You have the toughest job in the world.
Contents
Hope Conroy sat in the City Diner in Conard City, Wyoming, waiting for a man named Jim Cashford. She had rarely in her life been as nervous as she felt just then.
She needed the job. Her family had cut off her credit cards, she had the last hundred dollars from her bank account in her wallet and she didnât know what in the world she would do if this guy didnât hire her.
Clearly she had not planned her escape well, but her need to get away from Dallas had been urgent. She couldnât take the pressure one more minute.
Instinctively, she lowered her hand to the gentle swell of her belly, a swelling so slight most wouldnât notice it. But she did, just as she felt the little movements that seemed almost like bubbles popping. She would do anything for this baby, except marry the man who had raped her.
She wondered how much she would have to explain to this Cashford guy. His ad had said he wanted a nanny for a thirteen-year-old daughter. What if he thought a pregnant unwed mother would be a bad example? Heâd surely notice soon. It wouldnât be long before the whole world would be able to tell she carried a child.
So somehow she was going to have to explain this. Having a low-paying job for a month or two wasnât going to help her much. A hundred dollars wouldnât buy much gas. She doubted many people would be willing to hire a woman in her state.
When sheâd first come in here to get a little something to eat, a newspaper had been sitting on the table. She had snatched it up before the rude woman had demanded to know what she wanted. Skipping immediately to the want ads, the words about the nanny had seemed to leap out at her, and for a few glorious minutes she thought life had delivered her an answer.
But brief as her conversation with Cashford had been, doubts had started to grow immediately. Sheâd hardly been able to swallow the roll she had ordered and most of it still sat on the plate in front of her. She wondered why he was so quick to come into town to meet with her. Did he have trouble keeping nannies? She feared she might be wasting nearly an hour waiting for him, and that tonight there would be no answer to her problem, merely another cold night sleeping in her car. Then what?
Sheâd been a fool in so many ways, but even reaching that conclusion didnât show her any other way she could have handled it. She needed care for her child, for one thing, and while she could have gone on assistance in Texas, getting as far as she could from her familyâs reach had seemed imperative. God, they were like hound dogs with a bone. They wouldnât give up, they wouldnât believe her and they wouldnât let her shame the family. A triad she couldnât escape except with distance.
A dusty pickup pulled up right out front. It must be Cashford. Her mouth turned immediately dry as sand, and her palms moistened. She wondered if her tongue would stick to the roof of her mouth until she sounded like an idiot who couldnât even talk.
A tall, lean, but powerful man climbed out. Despite what Hope considered a chilly day, he didnât wear a jacket. Instead, he had on the basic local uniform of old jeans, cowboy boots, a chambray shirt and a cowboy hat that looked as if it had been a lot of places besides on his head. A working cowboy. Sheâd seen them sometimes in Texas when she got away from the city. Very different from the dudes in Dallas who only wanted to look the part.
Sun and wind had weathered his face some, but she didnât judge him to be terribly old. Maybe forty? A far cry from her twenty-four, but not that huge a leap. Under any other circumstances, sheâd have considered him a hunk. Even in the midst of her overwhelming anxiety she felt a prickle of attraction, but quickly quashed it. Never again.
