Free Her Secret Cowboy by Marin Thomas

Bugler, and his grandfather, Pastor Bugler.”
    “My dad says Uncle Will is the best builder in the whole world,” Miguel said.
    “Uncle Will’s gonna build Bandit a doghouse.” Javier walked up to Ryan and asked, “Are you gonna help us?”
    Ryan nodded.
    “This is Bandit.” Miguel tugged on the dog’s collar and dragged the animal over to Ryan. “My dad gave us Bandit for Christmas. You want to see his toys?”
    “Sure.” Ryan accompanied the boys and the dog inside the house.
    Pastor Bugler chuckled. “Looks like you lost your workforce.”
    Will’s brow broke out in a sweat as he faced off with Marsha and her father.
    “How can we help?” Marsha asked.
    “I forgot the nails. Wait here.” As soon as Will entered the barn, he cursed out loud.
    “What’s wrong? Are the boys getting on your nerves?” Conway poked his head out from beneath the tractor engine. “I can ask Isi to keep them in the house if—”
    “The twins are fine. Marsha’s dad came along today.”
    “Why?”
    To spy on me . “Heck if I know.” Will had been nervous enough about spending the day with Ryan and Marsha without having the pastor’s eyes watching his every move.
    Conway got to his feet. “Don’t let him ruin your day.”
    “How am I supposed to have a decent conversation with my son if the old man is eavesdropping?”
    “I don’t know, but you can’t hide in here all day.”
    “You’re right. See you later.” Will took a box of nails from the shelf above the workbench. When he returned to the yard, he walked past Marsha and her father. “I’ll holler inside the house for the boys.” Halfway up the porch steps, he stopped. “Would you two like a bottled water?”
    “No, thanks,” Marsha said. Her father shook his head.
    Will opened the screen door and shouted. “Hey, boys, we’ve got a doghouse to build.”
    The twins came outside with Bandit’s toy basket and Ryan held the dog’s favorite soccer ball. Bandit twirled in circles whining to play.
    Ryan threw the soccer ball and the dog raced across the yard, then used his snout to push the ball. Ryan laughed and Will felt a warm sensation stir in his chest. Bandit’s antics won over the pastor, too, because the old man grinned as he watched the activity. Maybe today wouldn’t be as stressful as Will anticipated.
    He called for the boys to stand in the shade of his grandmother’s favorite tree—a twenty-five-foot desert willow. “The first thing we have to do,” Will said, “is build a platform so the doghouse doesn’t sit directly on the ground.”
    “How come Bandit’s house can’t sit on the ground?” Miguel asked.
    Pastor Bugler put his hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “If it rains, son, the floor of the doghouse would flood and Bandit would have to sleep on a soggy dog pillow.”
    Javier inched closer to the pastor. “Bandit likes water. We taught him to swim in the pond.”
    “Swimming is one thing, but I don’t believe Bandit wants to sit in a muddy puddle,” the pastor said.
    “Bandit likes taking a bath.” Miguel joined the conversation. “He shakes his bubbles all over us.”
    The pastor chuckled at the twins’ chatter. While the boys entertained Marsha’s father with Bandit stories, Will spoke to Ryan. “Have you ever used a nail gun before?”
    Ryan shook his head.
    He held up the nail gun and pointed out its features, then handed it to Ryan. “I’ll hold these two boards together and you shoot the nail into the wood at a downward angle.” Will aligned the ends of the boards but Ryan hesitated.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “If the nail doesn’t go in the right way, we can remove it and do it again.”
    Ryan hesitated—what was the teen afraid of? When Will was his age, he’d been allowed to use his grandpa’s hunting rifle and he’d put it to good use—shooting the occasional snake that nested under the front porch. Believing his son needed encouragement, he said, “It’s like shooting a BB gun.” When Ryan