The Rancher Takes A Family

Everything about her husband

had changed….

Debra tried telling herself it didn’t matter, that she didn’t care. She didn’t want him. But she did. In fact, she ached for him. Over time, she’d come to realize John tried to do what he thought was right. John Richey was a good man.

Every once in a while she would think about how wonderful it would be if they were truly married. Oh, she knew legally they were. But she dreamed of being John’s wife, of having the right to touch him when she wanted. And where she wanted.

This was one of those times, and, for the first time since she’d come to his Wyoming ranch, she reveled in her fantasies….

Dear Reader,

I love to write cowboy stories, and when my editor requested I write exactly that, it made me very happy. I think I love cowboys so much because my father and mother were country kids, and visits to my grandparents in the country were a regular occurrence when I was little. Then, in my early teens, I began reading Zane Grey because my mother had the complete set of his books at home. I found them fascinating. I actually began my writing career in the Regency period, writing historical romance, but when I turned to contemporary romances I found my true voice in westerns. I usually set them in Wyoming, which is a place I’ve visited many times. For those of you who haven’t been there, Wyoming is not as large as Texas, my home state, but it’s a lot less populated. This works well with Western stories, because in Wyoming you find people still depending on their neighbors for help.

I’ve always enjoyed marriage-of-convenience stories, too, and that’s why I’ve written this book, The Rancher Takes a Family. John doesn’t think he will ever find a woman to love again, so decides to embark on a simple marriage of convenience. But things don’t go to plan, and his new wife, Debra, soon has him reassessing their situation. As always, love finds a way, and these two discover that they can be a proper family.

I hope you enjoy John and Debra’s story, and if you haven’t read a Western before, I hope you’ll give me and my cowboys a chance. If you have any questions or comments, you can reach me at www.judychristenberry.com.

Happy reading!

Judy Christenberry

JUDY CHRISTENBERRY

has written over seventy books for Silhouette Books®, and she’s a favorite with readers. Now you can find more of Judy’s heartwarming and powerful stories in Harlequin Romance®.

Step into a world where family counts, men are true to their word—and where romance always wins the day!

OTHERS BOOKS BY JUDY CHRISTENBERRY

HER CHRISTMAS WEDDING WISH #3919

RANCHER AND PROTECTOR #3941

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

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“YOU know we’ve got to do something, don’t you, John?”

John Richey looked at his right-hand man, Bill Hobbs, and sighed. “I know we need to, Bill, but I’ve thought and thought, and I can’t come up with any answer except to just make the best of it.”

In spite of his worries he smiled at his baby daughter as he removed the empty bottle from her mouth. She gave him a contented grin worth more than anything money could buy.

Bill persisted. “Damn it, man, we’re risking a big loss with just you, me, Mikey and Jess working the ranch, especially since you and me are only working half days so we can take care of Sugar here.”

“I told you to call her Betsy. That’s her name, after all.”

“You’re not focusing, John. And I have a solution to our problem even if you don’t.”

John looked up in surprise. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion, but it was the first time Bill had said he had the answer. “What do you mean, you’ve got the solution? What is it?”

“You won’t like it.”

John’s eyebrows soared. “That’s positive.”

“Well, you won’t. But it’s the only way, and it would help someone else out and cure all your ills, too.”

“And you’ve been keeping this miracle to yourself until you thought I was really desperate? I’m beginning to smell a rat, here, Bill.”

“I’ll tell you what it is if you’ll promise to hear me out.”

“Okay, I promise.” He put Betsy on his shoulder and gently patted her back. Almost immediately, Betsy let out an unladylike burp.

“Good girl,” John said with a smile at his nine-month-old daughter.

As if he’d been waiting for that sign, Bill said, “Remember, you promised to hear me out.”

“I remember,” John said, but his stomach was beginning to churn. Something was bad about Bill’s idea.

“You get married again.”

John turned to stare at him. “You’re crazy, old man! That’s not going to happen!”

He stood, with Betsy in his arms, ready to leave the room, but Bill reminded him, “You promised.”

“What kind of job is it, Uncle Bill?” Debra Williams asked hesitantly after finally settling herself in his old truck. The day so far had been hectic, what with taking Andy on his first plane ride—hers, too, for that matter. Even now that they were on terra firma, the trip was still bumpy as the truck bounced along the rutted road to Westlake, Wyoming.

But a rough patch was the least of her worries. Her life had been difficult, but she was a survivor. Always had been. But she wanted more than survival; she wanted to start the life she’d put on hold.

Her dream of being a teacher had been delayed when she’d found herself pregnant in her senior year of high school. Then, when the baby’s father died before their son was born, she’d had to face the hard fact that she was the sole support for herself and Andy until he was grown.

For years she’d been doing the best she could, but life hadn’t been wonderful.

So when Uncle Bill had called and told her he had a great job for her where she could keep her little boy with her, she accepted his word impulsively.

After she’d picked up the plane tickets and got aboard the flight to Casper, she’d had time to think about what she’d done. She hadn’t seen her uncle Bill since she was about six. How much did he know about her life? She knew her mother got letters from him fairly regularly, but that was it, as far as she knew.

Her mother had pleaded for Debra not to take Andy and go. Debra had been surprised and gratified to know that her mother wanted her to stay but she didn’t allow such uncharacteristic behavior to influence her decision. Now, though, she needed reassurance that she’d made the right decision, that what she’d done would help her little boy.

She’d asked a couple of questions earlier, but Uncle Bill had refused to answer her while Andy was awake. Now the three-year-old had finally fallen asleep in his car seat, and she could no longer wait for information. “You know I’m not trained for too many jobs. I was going to go to night school this fall, but you said this was a great job.”

“It is, honey, and it will let you stay home with Andy. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“You know it is, Uncle Bill, but there aren’t many jobs that will allow that. What do I have to do?”

“Things you already know how to do. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids.”

“So it’s a housekeeping job?”

“Yeah, that’s what it is. The thing is, Deb, I can’t keep sending you money and—”

“Sending me money? What are you talking about?”

He turned to stare at her until she warned him about an oncoming car. Then he said, “I’ve been sending your mother money every month to help out. She promised me she was passing it on to you.”

Debra looked out the window, unable to face her uncle, knowing that her mother had betrayed her again. They had never had a good relationship. After her father’s death, when Debra was nine, her mother had become so self-centered, Debra had practically raised herself. But she hated to think that her mother had intentionally kept money intended to help her own daughter.

She scrambled for a response to her uncle. “I guess she forgot.”

Bill slammed the steering wheel. “Damn! I should’ve known. Eileen was always— Never mind. Things will be better now.”

“I hope so,” Debra said softly. “I’ll certainly work hard. And it will be so wonderful to have Andy with me all day.”

Her uncle’s revelation explained why her mother had suddenly pleaded with her not to go. Greed had motivated her sudden maternal concern.

As usual, nothing had changed. But knowing the truth destroyed any light of hope that she’d misjudged her mother.

She shook off any sadness, focusing instead on her new life.

“So I’m going to be a housekeeper. How many people are in the family? Are there children Andy can play with?”

“Um, it’s a widower and his little girl,” Bill mumbled.

“Is there something weird about the job, Uncle Bill?” Something in her uncle’s voice didn’t seem quite right. She should’ve known better. There were no fairy-tale happy endings in the world today. She looked back at her sleeping son. She would protect Andy—whatever it took.

“Now, Debbie, honey, I want you to remember I have your best interest at heart.”

Debra got a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d pinned her hopes on her uncle’s promises. Surely Uncle Bill wouldn’t let her down…Would he? She couldn’t go back to Kansas City, to living with her mother, to being the cook in a diner, getting up at four-thirty every morning, no matter how she felt. Then she would come home at two, clean house while Andy finished his nap, play with him, fix dinner and go to bed to get up and do it all over again. She was growing old at twenty-two.

What was her uncle’s problem? “I don’t mind working hard, Uncle Bill.”

“Good. ’Cause you’ll be working hard.” He smiled at her, and she relaxed a little. In his fifties now, her uncle was still a handsome man, tall and muscular, with not a strand of gray in his full head of brown hair. He looked exactly as she remembered him.

They had been passing through mile after mile of ranch land and now she saw a town up ahead. A few shops, a café, a small bank. “Is this Westlake, Uncle Bill?”

Without answering, her uncle pulled to a stop in front of the only other building easily identifiable—a church.

“Uh, Debbie, there’s something I haven’t told you about the job.”

John heard the rear door of the church opening. He glanced over his shoulder from the front pew where he sat holding Betsy and waiting. This was a day he’d remember forever. March second. His second wedding. Guaranteed to be a disaster.

He turned back when he realized Bill was arguing with his niece. Was she hoping for a better deal? After all, his first wife had taught him well. If this one didn’t want what he was offering, he’d manage without her.

In fact, this was a dumb idea all-around. He stood, prepared to walk out of the church. Only a crazy man would’ve given in to Bill’s plan. And he wasn’t crazy.

The only problem was, he’d have to go past Bill and his niece to get to his truck. And he didn’t want to do that.

Suddenly John realized the woman was holding her son. The boy was the only thing about this agreement he liked. Not that he’d ever trade Betsy. True, he’d originally hoped for a boy, but it had only taken a minute of staring down at his tiny baby daughter to win his heart. But he would enjoy having a boy around, too.

It wasn’t as if he would ever have a son of his own.

More noise echoed from the rear of the church. He looked over his shoulder again. Bill and his niece were walking to the front. Okay, so she’d finally agreed. Too late to escape now.

“Uh, John,” Bill said, sounding nervous, “this here is my niece, Debra Williams, and her boy, Andy.”

“Hello,” John said. He knew he should offer a smile, but he couldn’t. Like a mantra, one line kept repeating in his brain: This is crazy…. This is crazy….

As if on cue, a door in the back of the church opened and the gentle face of their pastor, Reverend Tony Jackson, appeared. He came down the aisle with the big smile of a clergyman who thought he was sending a new couple off to wedded bliss.

“Ah, here’s the happy couple. John, introduce me to your lovely bride.”

John cleared his throat. “Uh, Reverend Jackson, this is Debra Williams, Bill’s niece.” He wouldn’t exactly call the woman lovely. Especially with that frown. Bill must’ve just told her about all the work she’d have to do, John figured. Maybe they should halt the proceedings right here and make sure she was willing to do what was necessary.

The reverend shook her hand. “How nice to meet you. Now, if you two will face forward…” He frowned. “Uh, Bill, can you hold the two little ones?”

“Sure, Pastor, I’ll just sit here in the front row. After all, I’m the witness, too.” He took Betsy out of John’s arms and then took the little boy’s hand after his mother set him down on the floor.

John’s frown deepened. He hated this! After his last marriage, he’d vowed never to marry again. Never to give some woman power over him. And he wasn’t including that vulnerability as a part of this marriage. He’d told Bill that.

He finally forced himself to look his new wife in the face. She had brown hair, pale skin, vulnerable gray eyes…

No! He stopped himself with a sharp command. Her looks didn’t matter. He was hiring her! That was how he was going to get through this day, by pretending he was hiring her for a job. Not to be his wife.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” Reverend Jackson began.

John pressed his lips together, trying to ignore all the wrong things about that statement that seemed to burn a hole in his gut. He felt deceitful—not easy for a man who’d lived an honest life till now.

Before he knew it, the pastor had spoken those terrible words, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

John remembered what would naturally follow those words and he hurriedly said, “Uh, thanks, Reverend Jackson. We’ll definitely have you out for dinner after calving season.” Then he shoved a white envelope in the man’s hand and turned to Bill to get his little girl.

As he reached for Betsy, the shaggy-haired boy looked up at him. Shyly he asked, “Are you a cowboy?”

The question surprised him. He looked down at the blue suit he wore. He’d bought it three years ago when his father died. Not the best memory. He shut it down. “Yeah, I’m a cowboy.”

“Not now, Andy,” the woman whispered.

Turning to stare at her, John wondered what was so horrible that the little boy wanted to ask. He nodded at Bill. “You’ll get them back to the ranch? I’ll see you there.”

He ignored Bill’s protest as he walked out of the church, Betsy in his arms.

Debra watched the man walk away. He was a handsome man, in his late twenties, tall and muscular, with sea-blue eyes. The kind of man any young woman would dream of marrying. Unless she was wise enough to know that looks didn’t matter. Her own husband—her first husband, she reminded herself—had been handsome. But he hadn’t been much of a husband. Not that John Richey seemed so marriage-minded, either.

She whirled back around to glare at her uncle. “You told me he was happy with this arrangement. That he would be a father to Andy. That he appreciated what I was doing!” Those had been the assurances her uncle had given her in the foyer of the church. She knew her son needed a daddy, and it seemed she and John could help each other, as Bill had explained it.

“Now, Debbie, don’t get upset. Not in front of Andy,” Bill cautioned.

“You lied to me, Uncle Bill,” she said in a fierce whisper. “You lured me out here, where I have no way of getting back to Kansas City, and then you lied to me!”

“It’s not really like that, Debbie, I swear. He’s just angry at—at the idea of marrying again. After all, he’s a widower. He needs time, but he don’t have any ’cause it’s March and calving season is starting and we need someone to take care of Betsy and cook and clean for us. We’re out in the saddle almost fifteen hours a day. And that’s where you come in.”

Debra stared at her uncle as he drew a deep breath. “Then why didn’t he just hire me as his housekeeper?”

“’Cause he ain’t got no money, honey. He didn’t figure no one would work for him unless he could promise them something.”

“Uncle Bill, you conned me! If I could, I’d head home right now!”

“You’d take Andy back to that tiny apartment when you can go to a wonderful home? Where he can have a place to play and have you around all day? Come on, Debra! You’re a better mother than that. And think about that poor little baby girl, being raised by a couple of cowhands. We hardly know nothing about babies!”

“Oh, give it a rest, Uncle Bill. What’s done is done. Take me to my new home and outstanding future opportunity,” Debra said with a weary sigh.

Bill helped her and Andy back into his truck and continued on down the road, the small town long gone in the rearview mirror. “I really thought you and John could help each other out. He’s just so crazed about getting married, but he’ll settle down if you give him a little while.”

“What choice do I have?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

They rode in silence until Bill stopped the truck in front of a beautiful house. Debra stared at it in shock. Having been told that the man didn’t have money to pay a housekeeper, she’d expected a tiny log cabin she’d have to share with him and her uncle.

Instead, she was looking at a large, two-story farmhouse-style home with large windows and an inviting front porch. Shade trees along the property made it look welcoming and big enough to house a platoon of soldiers. This was to be her home?

Finally she turned to look at her uncle. “What— I expected— Is this a joke?”

“Only on John,” Bill said. When his niece continued to stare at him, he had to explain. “I think he married her too fast, without getting to know her.”

“How’d he meet his first wife?” Debra asked.

“At a rodeo in Cheyenne. His dad had just died. He was off balance, needing to be connected to someone. After they got married, she insisted on a new house, new car, jewelry, anything else she could think of. He was in love and he tried to give her everything he could. Especially when he found out she was pregnant.”

In a whisper, Debra muttered, “And then she died.”

“Not before she ran away with a man who promised to make her a star in Hollywood. She left her two-month-old baby behind without a thought.” Bill couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. “We got in that evening to hear Betsy bawling. She was wet and hungry. We didn’t know what had happened. John almost went crazy until the state highway patrol called.”

Debra stared at him in horror.

“Yeah,” Bill agreed. “John just about went to pieces. He would have if it hadn’t been for Betsy. She needed him.”

“I see,” Debra said slowly. “John and I have more in common than I’d first thought.” Her husband of two months, who’d married her because she was pregnant, even though she was still in high school, gave up his marriage and his job before she got out of high school. His new job choice was drug dealing. He was dead within two weeks.

Bill put a callused hand on hers. “I know. Come on inside.”

Inside, the house lived up to its exterior beauty. Almost. Not that there was anything wrong with the inside that a little cleaning wouldn’t improve. Debra stared at the family room furnished with three leather couches in a U-shape around a massive stone fireplace. The area was larger than her mother’s entire apartment had been.

John came walking into the room from the hallway, holding a piece of paper out to her. “Here’s Betsy’s schedule. You may choose any of the upstairs bedrooms you want, but stay out of the one down here. It’s mine. Dinner should be sometime between seven and eight. There will be four of us at the table in addition to you and the children.” He pointed to the rear of the house. “The laundry room is in that direction. Anything you can do there will be appreciated.” His voice was calm but challenging, as if he thought she wouldn’t be able to do all he asked.

“John—” Bill began, but John didn’t wait.

“I’ll see you in the barn, Bill,” he said and walked out the door.

Debra waited until her uncle turned to look at her, a helpless expression on his face. “It’s all right, Uncle Bill. I told you I’d work hard. And I realize we’re both in a situation that we now can’t change.” She straightened her spine and looked around. “How big a ranch is this?”

“It’s not all that big. Fifteen thousand acres. That’s—” He hung his head, fingering the hat he held in his hands. Without looking up, he said, “We needed help. Debbie, I swear, if you’ll give him a little time—”

“He’s got all the time in the world until I can find a way to make enough money to get me and my son back home.”

Debra investigated the house and determined the two bedrooms she and Andy would take upstairs.

The third bedroom, next to hers, was occupied by a sleeping baby. Debra stood at the crib, looking down at Betsy. The blond-haired child was so sweet. Babies always were.

Debra smiled, remembering Andy’s younger years. Then she heard her son calling her and rushed out of the baby’s room to keep him from awakening Betsy.

“Do you like your room, Andy?” she asked.

“It’s big, Mommy. I think I’d rather stay with you.”

She put her arms around him. “You’ll be right next door to me, baby. And it means you can sleep later without me waking you up. You’ll get used to it, I promise.” She hugged him tighter. “How ’bout we go to the kitchen and see if we can find you a snack?”

Downstairs she discovered a beautiful kitchen, complete with all the latest appliances. Since she was a short-order cook, she appreciated the convenience of a large, modern kitchen. The one good thing she could say about the job at Joe’s Diner was that it had allowed her to spend the late afternoons and evenings with Andy. Of course, she’d had to go to bed when he did since she got up at four-thirty in the morning to go to work. Her entire paycheck went to her mother. Eileen demanded money for letting them live with her, money for taking care of Andy. Money for everything.

The only money Debra had secreted away was her share of the tip money that Joe, the owner, had given her at the end of each month. It hadn’t come to much, but it allowed her to buy Andy clothes and occasionally treat him to something special.

She should’ve saved it so she could get back to Kansas.

Then she stopped to consider her own words. Did she want to go back? Did she want that life? She shuddered. The answer was no. She probably wouldn’t be the man’s wife for long, but at least she would have some respite from having to abandon her son every morning. And God knew, she couldn’t go back to living with her mother, not knowing what she did now.

“Mommy?”

“Oh, yes, honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go find that snack.”

She’d assumed she’d find the cupboard bare if this man—her new husband—was so broke he couldn’t pay for anyone to help him. However, she found his penniless state didn’t apply to the kitchen. The refrigerator was stocked and a nearby freezer was full of frozen beef.