The Rancher Needs a Wife by Terry McLaughlin

Author:Terry McLaughlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2007-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

JODY MOTORED ACROSS the creek bridge on one of the ranch ATVs on Sunday afternoon, headed toward the log cabin where she’d lived until her father’s death. It seemed odd, sometimes, to knock on the door and wait for an invitation to enter, but the strange feelings were fading. For several months now—since Fitz had bought the ranch in July—the little cabin with the sloping porch roof and the river rock chimney had been Aunt Maggie’s place.

She crossed her fingers on the four-wheeler’s handlebars and wished extra hard that Aunt Maggie would stay forever. And right after that, she made a wish for a baby brother or sister.

Tess Owen in the fifth grade had a new baby brother, and he’d been so tiny and wiggly and smelled so sweet when Jody had taken a turn holding him. She’d been hinting to Fitz and her mom that she wouldn’t mind taking care of a little brother or sister, but neither of them wanted to discuss babysitting opportunities.

The ATV squelched through a patch of soggy road, and Jody swerved to avoid a low-swooping cottonwood branch as she sped along the creekside path. Soon she spied Aunt Maggie’s freshly washed car. Maybe it was a waste of time and effort to fight the mud, like Will said, but Aunt Maggie’s stubborness about certain things was one of the qualities that made her special.

Like the way she drove all the way into Butte, twice a month, just to get her hair trimmed and her nails polished. Or the way she stopped at the florist shop to buy fresh flowers on the way home from the grocery store. Gran said Aunt Maggie was extravagant, but Jody admired the way she could make things seem nicer than they usually were.

She pulled to a stop near the old chicken coop and shouldered her backpack before trudging up plank steps to the tiny front porch. She knocked once and opened the front door a crack. “Hey, Aunt Maggie.”

“Hey, Jody.” Aunt Maggie swept into the front room, wearing some Asian kind of robe, all slinky and silky and colored with big parrotlike birds. “I hope you’ve got some of your gran’s snickerdoodles. She told me she made a batch this morning.”

“Yep.” Jody dropped the pack on the little dining table tucked beneath the wide window in one corner of the room. “I brought some sandwiches, too. I made them myself.”

“Roast beef?”

“With horseradish sauce.”

“Excellent.” Aunt Maggie reached into the pack and fished out the cookies. “All we need now is a flash flood to wash away the bridge and cut us off from civilization—or what passes for civilization around here, anyway—for a week or so.”

“I didn’t bring enough sandwiches and cookies for a week.”

“We don’t need them. I’ve been cooking.”

Jody pasted on a wide, fake smile. One thing Aunt Maggie needed to be less extravagant with was her cooking. “Oh, boy.”

“Knock it off.” Aunt Maggie sashayed back into the kitchen. “I’ll admit last weekend’s salade Niçoise wasn’t the best choice for a get-together, so I came up with an easier theme for this one.

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