The Cowboy's Double Trouble

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 couldn’t take her eyes off him. Why was that? You’d think she didn’t trust him, but the truth was, right this very minute, she didn’t trust herself.

She ran her tongue around her lips, hoping to lick off whatever sweet, sticky mess she’d 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!

The Cowboy’s

Double Trouble

Judy Duarte

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Since 2002, USA TODAY bestselling author JUDY DUARTE has written over forty books for Mills & Boon Cherish, earned two RITA® Award nominations, won two Maggie® Awards and received a National Readers’ Choice Award. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she enjoys traveling with her husband and spending quality time with her grandchildren. You can learn more about Judy and her books at her website, www.judyduarte.com, or at Facebook.com/judyduartenovelist.

To my critique partners, Crystal Green and Sheri WhiteFeather. Can you believe we’re celebrating our twentieth anniversary this year?

I have no idea where I’d be without you, your story skills—or, more importantly, your friendship.

I love you, guys!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

A snarl, a hiss and a cat’s frantic “meeee-owww” 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 wasn’t up for an adventure.

“No!” Braden called out, hoping to stop an accident ready to happen before any blood could be spilled. “Alberto! Put it down.”

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.

Alberto—or “Beto,” as his twin sister called him—didn’t speak English. And Braden’s Spanish was limited to a few words, mostly isolated nouns.

“Put the...” Braden blew out a ragged sigh and tried to remember how to say cat in Spanish. “Put the gato down. It’s going to scratch the living daylights out of you.” 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 didn’t appear to be the least bit relieved by their descent, so a bite or a scratch was imminent.

“Let the gato go.” Braden used his hands in his own form of sign language and motioned as he added, “Down.”

Reluctantly, the boy released the cat. But the frown on his face indicated he wasn’t happy about doing so.

“Where’s your sister?” Braden asked. Then, attempting to bridge the language barrier, he added, “Bela? Dónde?”

The boy pointed to the corner of the barn, where his twin sat, holding a black cat, undoubtedly the tabby’s 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 they’d ended up with him, and he slowly shook his head. Not that he couldn’t afford them or didn’t 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 hadn’t known they’d been living in a Mexican orphanage—or that they’d 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. They’d been staying in Houston with Jason, Braden’s 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 husband’s family. So the only one left to look after them was Braden.

He’d like to reassure them that they were with family now, but he was limited to pointing, miming and, when his memory of high school flashcards came through for him, uttering a Spanish word or two.

Yet in spite of the struggle to communicate and more than a twenty-year age difference, the kids running around his barn and chasing a couple of cats had something in common with him and his half siblings.

They all had the same father.

Wasn’t that just like their old man to have a second family in another country? Charles Rayburn may have been a successful businessman with a net worth of nearly a billion dollars, but he’d been a real failure when it came to making any kind of lasting commitment to a woman.

When Jason headed to the airport with his wife, he left Braden in charge of the six-year-olds. And then he’d driven off like the guy who’d dropped off the two stray cats.

Okay, so it wasn’t the same thing. Beto and Bela were family. And there was no way Braden would want them to be taken in by strangers, although that’s what they were. And if the twins didn’t pick up English quickly, they’d never really get to know each other.

Still, even though Braden had agreed to keep the kids until Jason returned, he’d panicked at the thought of being left in charge of his newfound little brother and sister. What if he failed them—like his... Well, his father hadn’t exactly deserted him. He’d come through with the child support and money for braces, swim lessons or summer camp. But Charles Rayburn had been so caught up with his business ventures that he’d never attended a school play, a football game or even a graduation.

To make matters worse, Braden had never been close with the two half siblings he’d known about for practically all of his twenty-eight years. So he’d always felt like the odd man out, especially since his dad hadn’t even married his mom.

And now there were two more Rayburns to get to know, and Braden didn’t have any idea where he should start.

Heck, even if he and the kids spoke the same language, having Beto and Bela with him for the next three weeks was going to be a real challenge.

But he had a plan. Once Jason and his new bride returned from that business trip, Braden was going to suggest that the twins live permanently with them. After all, kids their age would be better off with a married couple. And the fact that Juliana would be having a baby soon made it all the better.

And if that didn’t work out, his half sister, Carly, had just gotten married, too, and would return about the same time Jason did. She was also pregnant, so there was another opportunity for the twins to join a real family.

In the meantime, the poor kids were stuck with him. Only trouble was, he needed to focus on running the ranch he’d just inherited from his grandpa Miller. Unlike his wealthy and womanizing father, Braden took his family responsibilities seriously.

But how in the hell was he going to get any work done while they were here? Babysitting was turning out to be a full-time job—and one he hadn’t been prepared for. He’d been raised on the Bar M as an only child, so he didn’t have any experience with kids. He’d do his best to do right by them, of course. But these two, as cute as they were, would be much happier with someone else—preferably someone who could communicate with them.

If they were in school, it would be easier. But it was still summer.

Maybe he should hire a nanny to look after them so he could get some work done.

The more he thought about that idea, the better it sounded. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where to begin to find someone qualified. And that was crucial. The woman who’d looked after the twins in Mexico had proven to be cold and rigid. As willing as he was to pass their care on to someone else, he had to be careful.

The poor little orphans had been through enough already, and he was dead set on making sure they were well cared for—and loved. They definitely deserved someone more qualified than a bachelor who was more comfortable around horses and barbed wire than around people, especially those who bore the Rayburn name.

“No!” Beto called out. “Vengan gatitos!”

Braden turned toward the child’s voice, just as the two cats dashed out of the barn, the little boy and girl in hot pursuit. He didn’t blame the animals for running off.

Hell, he’d only had the kids for three days and he had half a notion to run away himself.

* * *

Elena Ramirez unlocked the front door of Lone Star Hay and Grain, then set about to welcome the first customers of the day.

She’d already checked on the baby ducks and chicks that were for sale, as well as the rabbits. Her dad was running a special on the small animals this week, so she wanted to make sure the coops and pens, which she’d put on display near the front door and by the register, were clean and that the food and water had been replenished.

Elena had shopkeeping in her blood, and she knew all the best sales strategies. But recently, the merchandise she sold was the kind to grace the covers of fashion magazines instead of agricultural catalogs.

Now, as she studied her father’s store, she realized not much had changed in the years since he’d bought it, something she intended to remedy while she was here.

She’d been a senior in high school at the time her father purchased the store and moved the family to Brighton Valley. She hadn’t been happy about leaving all her old friends and making new ones, but she was glad her dad finally had the opportunity to be in business for himself. He’d been one of eight children and the first to no longer have to work for someone else.

Taking over a floundering feed store had been tough for him in the beginning. There hadn’t been enough money coming in to hire an assistant, so Elena had worked with him after class each day and on the weekends. By the time she’d gone off to college in Austin that next fall, he’d finally been able to afford to pay an hourly employee.

On the upside, Elena’s retail experience had enabled her to get a job at a dress shop near the university, where she usually had the highest commission of all the other sales associates.

In fact, when she’d graduated in May, she’d continued working in Austin, but between her student loan payments and the cost of rent and utilities, life had eaten into her earnings. Since she had plans to open a store of her own one day soon, one that specialized in trendy fashions and quirky, unusual items, she’d moved back to Brighton Valley until she could sock away some money.

Working at the feed store felt like a step backward, but Papa was so happy to have her home again that she didn’t mind.

“I missed my little girl,” he’d said when he helped her carry her suitcases into the house.

She knew her absence bothered him, but since she was the oldest of his children by seven years, and with six younger siblings, there were still plenty of little ones in the house.

She stopped by the small display pen that held baby ducks, picked up the smallest one and rubbed its soft down against her cheek. Then, after she set it loose again, she brushed off her hands on her oldest pair of jeans.

All of her good clothes—the ones she wore for her old job—were still in a suitcase under the bunk bed she was sharing with her twelve-year-old half sister. She arched her back, thinking of the small twin-size mattress that was much firmer than the one she’d been used to.

While she didn’t mind coming home to help out her family and save money, she definitely missed living on her own in the city.

The first twelve years of her life, she’d been raised by her mother as an only child, so it was only natural for her to enjoy her solitude.

When her mom died, she moved in with her dad and stepmom full-time. She’d tried to help whenever she was needed, and before long, she was babysitting, cleaning up spills and wiping tears.

These days, she often had to referee fights. She loved her siblings, she truly did. But she’d enjoyed getting away from them, too.

A truck engine sounded outside, announcing that their first customer of the day had arrived. She secured the hair clip that held the thick, dark mass of curls away from her face, neck and shoulders while she worked.

Moments later, a man and two children entered the store. The kids both appeared to be Hispanic and didn’t resemble the blond-haired cowboy in the least. So her interest was immediately piqued.

When the little boy noticed the rabbits on display, he immediately brightened. “Conejitos! Bela, mira!”

The girl—his sister, Elena guessed—hurried to his side, and they each found a bunny to pet.

Elena turned to the fair-haired cowboy, who stood about six foot one. When he noticed her, a pair of dazzling green eyes locked on to hers and sent her heart rate on a mad scamper to find a normal pace.

Too handsome for a local cowboy was the first thought that came to her mind.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Not unless you run a day care center out back.”

Elena laughed. “Only when my mom brings my younger brothers and sisters by the store. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged a single shoulder. “Just my attempt to find humor in a sticky situation.”

She lifted a brow, and he slid her an easy grin.

“I’m looking after these kids for my brother,” he said, “and they don’t speak English. So I’m in a real fix when it comes to communicating with them. I’m doing my best, but I have to find a bilingual nanny—like yesterday.”

Elena felt a tug on her sleeve. When she glanced down, the little girl with large brown eyes and lopsided pigtails pointed to the rear of the store, where the boy had wandered over to a display of straw cowboy hats. He’d apparently knocked several to the floor.

“Sorry about that,” the handsome cowboy said. “I’ll get those picked up.”

“Don’t give it a second thought.” Elena strolled to the table display and smiled at the boy. “No es problema, mijo.” She helped him restack the hats, then took one and placed it on his head. In Spanish, she asked if he wanted to be a cowboy.

He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth, and nodded, the oversize hat flopping forward and back. “Si, yo quiero ser un vaquero como Señor Braden.”

So he admired “Senor Braden” and wanted a hat like his. She glanced at the fair-haired cowboy, then back at the boy, who was pointing to the man. Then it clicked.

“Now I know why you looked familiar,” she said. “You’re Braden Rayburn. Your great-grandmother owned a ranch near here.”

“Yes, and my maternal grandpa owned... Well, I now own the Bar M.”

“I was sorry to hear about your grandfather’s passing,” she said. “My dad told me that he attended his celebration of life. I’m afraid I was still in Austin at the time.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t recognize you. But then again, my grandpa was the one who always picked up supplies or had them delivered. After my rodeo days, I spent most of my time on the ranch.”

She reached out her arm in greeting. “I’m Elena Ramirez, Paco’s daughter.”

He took her hand in his, enveloping her in a warm, calloused grip that sent her senses reeling. “No kidding? I knew Paco had a lot of kids, but I had no idea that he...” His voice trailed off, but she knew what he’d been about to say. He hadn’t realized Elena was one of them. Well, that’s not a surprise. She found it difficult to believe at times, too.

“I’ve been away at college,” she said. “And for the past four years I haven’t been back to Brighton Valley as often as I should have.”

Before either of them could speak, the boy walked up carrying a black and white bunny. “Perdona me, señorita. Quanto dinero por el conejito?”

She smiled at the little guy and said, “Cinco dolares.”

“Did he want to know how much the rabbits cost?” Braden asked.

Elena nodded. “I told him five dollars. But you’re in luck. We’re running a sale this week. They’re two for eight.”

Braden put up the hand that had once gripped hers to motion a halt. “Sorry, but no way. I have two children more than I can handle as it is—not to mention a couple of stray cats they found this morning.”

She glanced at the kids, who’d returned to the rabbit cage, clearly enamored. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? Look at them.”

“I’m tempted—but only because Beto has managed to stay out of trouble for five minutes.”

She smiled. “Actually, my brothers and sisters have pets. It teaches them responsibility.”

“What did you major in at college?” Braden asked. “Child psychology?”

She laughed. “Business, actually, with a minor in art.”

His grin deepened, creating a pair of dimples in his cheeks, and his green eyes sparked. “You’ve got a talent for sales. I’d say it might be wasted at a small-town feed store.”

She felt the same way, although she’d never come out and tell her father that. He hoped she’d stay at home forever, but she had plans to make her mark in the world—and in a big city.

“I only plan to be here until the first of the year,” she said. “I’ve been saving money to eventually open up my own dress shop in Houston.”

His gaze swept over her, from her red Lone Star Hay and Grain T-shirt, to the faded blue jeans with a frayed hem, down to the old boots she wore, then back up again.

She tossed him a smile. “Believe it or not, when I’m not working here, I do have a bit of fashion sense.”

“I’m sure you do.” A boyish grin suggested he might have found her attractive in spite of her well-worn clothing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought, but she tamped it down. She wasn’t looking for a cowboy, especially one who was local. “As I was saying, the sale on small animals we’re running is actually advertised in the newspaper. It was my idea because those little critters can sure multiply if you aren’t careful.”

Braden chuckled. “It would serve my brother right if, when he returned, I gave him the kids as well as two rabbits.”

“I like the way you think.” Elena studied the handsome cowboy, who was tall and lean—broad shouldered, too.

From what she’d heard through the rumor mill, Braden Rayburn was one of the most eligible bachelors in town, and quite a few of the local ladies had him in their sights.

But looking at Braden in that Stetson and those Wranglers certainly could make a woman—well, maybe another woman—rethink her career path.

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Quiero dos conejos, por favor.”

Elena laughed. “It looks like Beto can afford to purchase rabbits for himself and his sister.”

“Where did he get the money?” Braden asked.

Elena turned to the child, first taking time to speak to him long enough for him to introduce his sister, Maribel, whom he called Bela.

She laughed at Beto’s animated explanation about how he received the cash, then interpreted for Braden. “He said he earned it—fair and square.”

“Is that a direct quote?”

“Not exactly. But it’s close enough. It seems that Beto here is quite the negotiator. He bartered a horned toad for the cash.”

“With whom?”

“Apparently, the nice man who brought him to the United States paid him to give up his new pet.”

“That would be my brother,” Braden said. “But Jason is a suit-and-tie sort of guy. What would he want with a horned toad?”

“My guess is that Jason paid Beto so he could take custody of it, then turn it loose, although that’s just an assumption. But from what I gathered, it seems that Beto’s horned toad nearly scared the bejeezus out of Jason’s wife. I have a feeling she may not have wanted to sleep in the same house with it.”

Elena glanced at the smiling six-year-old. When she returned her focus to their temporary guardian, Braden’s meadow-green gaze had already zeroed in on hers, the intensity making it difficult to breathe.

“I’d like to offer you a job,” he said.

“I already have one.”

“Whatever your father is paying you, I’ll double it if you can start today.”

She stiffened, not quite following his line of reasoning, but sensing where he was going with the offer. “Excuse me?”

“I need someone to help with child care for the next three weeks. And not just anyone. I need someone trustworthy who’s also bilingual.”

Elena stood up straight. “Are you out of your mind?”

Okay, so that came across a little harsher than she’d meant it to, but surely he wasn’t expecting her to be a...a babysitter. It already seemed like a huge move backward from big girl on campus and star sales associate to a feed-store clerk. But now this guy was suggesting she be a child-care provider?

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said.

She threw her shoulders back. “I didn’t graduate from college with a business degree so I could become a nanny. Besides, you don’t even know me. I could be an ax murderer.”

He swept a long gaze over her, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Nah. I’m a good judge of character. Besides, I know your parents. And they raise Girl Scouts, honor students and high school football stars.”

The guy had a down-home charm about him that could cause any determined woman to weaken, but Elena wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

“Let me sweeten the pot,” he said. “I’ll triple whatever you’re earning here.”

Was he dangling a carrot with no intention of following through? Who could afford to pay that kind of money for a sitter?

Of course, she hadn’t been home in years but she’d heard tales about the Rayburns. Rumor had it that all three of the half siblings had a sizable trust fund from their late father.

“I need someone with experience,” he added.

Elena crossed her arms. “Doing what? Wiping noses? Mopping up spilled milk? With six younger brothers and sisters, I can assure you that I’ve had more than enough experience doing that. Sorry, I’m not interested. There are other women I know, empty nesters who are also bilingual, who could help you.”