Free Teaching the Cowboy by Holley Trent Page B

called him, after all. “John Lundstrom.”
    Phil was quiet for so long she wondered if he was still there.
    “Phil?”
    “Hold on, honey. I’m processing this. I’m trying to understand how the prudish schoolmarm managed to lure the owner of one of the largest ranches in Wyoming in a day.”
    “How do you know it’s one of the largest?”
    “I’m not just pretty, you know. I actually do ask questions when I’m sitting around sipping my free alcohol. Don’t you dare change the subject. What exactly happened? Spare no details.”
    She rolled her eyes, which was a pretty ineffectual move on her part as there was no one there to see it. Besides, even if someone was there, they couldn’t see through the pillow. “He damn near screwed me through my pants.”
    “So, why didn’t you take off your pants? Boom. Easy solution.”
    “I don’t know why I talk to you.”
    “Because I’m a goddamned oracle. Tell me, was he just looking to borrow a cup of brown sugar, or was he interested in buying the whole sweet shop?”
    She cleared her throat. “Listen, I’m going to have Landon e-mail you. He’s interested in State.”
    He was quiet for a moment again, but this time she knew he hadn’t hung up. “Normally I’d be pissed about that diversionary tactic, but you know how much I love giving State advice.”
    “Mm-hmm.” She slipped her free hand under the pillow and dismantled the bun she hadn’t felt like bothering with the night before.
    “What’s on your agenda for today?”
    “Going to try to get a plan put together for Peter Lundstrom. I’m supposed to meet John for lunch tomorrow.” She groaned. Oh, that should be the most relaxing thing I’ve ever done . “And I have a bunch of research to do. Need to get Landon registered for college testing and all that. Maybe do some Internet shopping. Apparently I don’t fit the Storafalt dress code.”
    “Gonna buy a pair of pink cowboy boots, too?”
    “Yup. For you.”
    “I know you mean that to be an insult, but I’d make them the next big trend, sweetheart.”
    She tried to roll her eyes again. “Bye.”
    After figuring out how to work the small coffee maker she found inside of the cabinets, and giving the long-neglected thing a good cleaning, she drank twenty-four ounces of coffee while standing and ate the remnants of the sausage casserole one of the Erickson kids had brought over the day before. Why buy groceries if they were going to just keep bringing her food? She wondered briefly if the Ericksons fed the rest of their staff so well. She shrugged, topped off her coffee, and shuffled across the great room to her computer. She’d just set her coffee cup down on the coaster when someone knocked on the door.
    Anna offered her a blasé look when she pulled the curtain.
    Ronnie pulled the door open a crack. “Hi?”
    “Have you eaten?” Anna pushed the door in a smidge and extended a picnic basket to Ronnie.
    “I had some leftovers. What is that? Smells divine.”
    Anna pushed her way in and made a beeline for the kitchenette counter. She did a cursory glance of the accommodations and Ronnie could have sworn she turned her nose up a bit.
    Ronnie sighed.
    “Orange rolls. You got the second batch. Got some bacon and hardboiled eggs in there, too.”
    “Landon got the first batch,” a little voice said. “Ate them all before I got my clothes on.”
    Ronnie turned around to find a small blonde bird nest-topped person leaning into the doorway. “Come in, Liss,” she said, waving the child in.
    Liss scrambled for the kitchen table and climbed up into the one chair Ronnie didn’t have buried beneath paperwork.
    Ronnie turned her attention back to the surly Lundstrom housekeeper. “You really didn’t have to bring me food. The Ericksons have been—”
    Anna gave her a silencing look, so Ronnie clamped her lips together.
    Oh-kie dokie then.
    “Come on, Liss. We need to get back to the house to get that last batch out,” Anna said, sliding her