Braden leaned toward her.
The very moment he touched her skin, her breath caught and her heart fluttered to a stop.
As her pulse scrambled to make up for the lost beat, Elena couldnât take her eyes off him. Why was that? Youâd think she didnât trust him, but the truth was, right this very minute, she didnât trust herself.
She ran her tongue around her lips, hoping to lick off whatever sweet, sticky mess sheâd left there. Yet, as she did, their gazes zeroed in on each other once again, and her hormones spiked. A jillion silent words seemed to swirl around them, yet neither of them uttered a single one out loud.
This was so not good. Not good at all.
Could she last the three weeks?
* * *
Brighton Valley Cowboys: This Texas family is looking for love in all the right places!
Chapter One
A snarl, a hiss and a catâs frantic âmeeee-owwwâ shattered the silence in the barn.
Braden Rayburn turned away from the stall of the broodmare that was ready to foal and spotted six-year-old Alberto climbing up the wooden ladder to the hayloft while juggling a squirming orange tabby in his arms. The boy had found the small stray earlier this morning, but clearly, the cat wasnât up for an adventure.
âNo!â Braden called out, hoping to stop an accident ready to happen before any blood could be spilled. âAlberto! Put it down.â
The small boy turned at the sound of his name and froze on the third rung, but he continued to hold the cat. He undoubtedly understood the word no, but that was it.
Albertoâor âBeto,â as his twin sister called himâdidnât speak English. And Bradenâs Spanish was limited to a few words, mostly isolated nouns.
âPut the...â Braden blew out a ragged sigh and tried to remember how to say cat in Spanish. âPut the gato down. Itâs going to scratch the living daylights out of you.â From the tone of his voice, his frustration was coming through loud and clear.
Fortunately, Beto seemed to finally understand and climbed down. Still he held the poor critter that didnât appear to be the least bit relieved by their descent, so a bite or a scratch was imminent.
âLet the gato go.â Braden used his hands in his own form of sign language and motioned as he added, âDown.â
Reluctantly, the boy released the cat. But the frown on his face indicated he wasnât happy about doing so.
âWhereâs your sister?â Braden asked. Then, attempting to bridge the language barrier, he added, âBela? Dónde?â
The boy pointed to the corner of the barn, where his twin sat, holding a black cat, undoubtedly the tabbyâs littermate.
What was wrong with people who dropped off their unwanted animals near a ranch, assuming the owner would be grateful to take in another critter to feed?
Having grown up on this horse ranch near Brighton Valley, Braden was all too familiar with what ranchers like him and his late grandpa had to put up with.
Ironically, he thought about the twins and how theyâd ended up with him, and he slowly shook his head. Not that he couldnât afford them or didnât care about their emotional well-being, but he was completely out of his league when it came to dealing with young children, especially when there was a serious communication problem. But then again, the twins had been raised in Mexico, so the language barrier was to be expected.
He glanced at the boy and girl, who were now sitting together with the stray cats and jabbering a mile a minute, although Braden had no idea what they were saying. He wished he did, though. And that he could talk to them, explain how sorry he was that their parents had died.
Three months ago, Braden hadnât known theyâd been living in a Mexican orphanageâor that theyâd even existed. But once he and his half siblings had found them, the older Rayburns had decided to bring them back to the States and provide them with a home.
Now, two weeks later, here they were in Texas. Theyâd been staying in Houston with Jason, Bradenâs older half brother. But Jason and his wife were now on a business trip in Europe, while sister Carly was on a cruise with her new husbandâs family. So the only one left to look after them was Braden.