Free The Ranger And The Widow Woman by Stella Bagwell

enough to hide her shape, but something about the redhead made her feel terribly exposed.
    “Hello,” she replied in a raspy voice, then deliberately cleared her throat before going on. “I’m Violet.”
    The redhead removed her dark glasses as she climbed the wooden steps. “I’m Justine Pardee. Charlie’s mother. Is my son here?”
    This was Charlie’s mother? She couldn’t be old enough! Dumbfounded, Violet slowly nodded. “Yes. But he’s still asleep.”
    “Oh.” Justine eased down in the chair next to Violet. “I heard last night that he’d come home, and I couldn’t wait any longer to see him,” she explained, then smiled warmly. “I didn’t realize he’d brought company with him.”
    Violet’s cheeks blushed deep red. Dear Heaven, what must his mother be thinking? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
    “Oh, I’m not company,” she said quickly, then thinking that probably sounded peculiar she added, “I mean, Charlie just picked me up on the highway.”
    Justine Pardee’s brows winged upward, and Violet could see her response had only made the situation seem even worse.
    “You see, it’s my car. It broke down, and Charlie was kind enough to stop and help me.”
    Understanding suddenly dawned in the other woman’s eyes, and she nodded at Violet. “That would be my son. He still thinks he’s the Durango Kid.”
    Violet’s brow puckered. “I beg your pardon?”
    Justine chuckled softly. “I’m sorry. Unless you’re an old movie fan, you’re far too young to know who the Kid was. He was a Saturday-afternoon matinee idol. A cowboy version of Sir Galahad.”
    So it wasn’t unusual for Charlie to go around saving damsels in distress. Violet was probably just one of many. No more special than the first or the last one.
    “Well, I tried to assure him I could manage on my own, but somehow I ended up out here,” Violet tried to explain. The last thing she wanted was to have this lovely woman thinking she’d tried to seduce her son in any way.
    Suddenly there was a shuffle of feet at the door. Both women looked around to see Sam’s little face pressed against the screen.
    “I’m hungry, Mommy. When are we gonna eat?”
    Violet glanced at Justine. Her eyes were shining with a smile as she observed Sam just inside the door.
    “This is your son?”
    Violet nodded, then motioned for Sam to come to her. The boy trotted barefoot across the porch and sidled up to his mother’s knee.
    “Mrs. Pardee, this is my son, Sam.”
    “Hello, Sam,” Justine said gently. “How old are you?”
    “Four,” he announced, holding up the fingers to match.
    “Only four! My goodness you look big enough to be five or six!” she exclaimed.
    Sam giggled. “I’m nearly five and I like to eat. Mommy says that makes me grow.”
    “You know what? Charlie likes to eat, too,” Justine told him. “So why don’t we go to the kitchen and find something for breakfast?”
    “Yeah! I like pancakes!”
    “Sam! You little beggar, you’ll eat what’s in the kitchen!” Violet exclaimed. Her son had never been the bashful sort. But she’d never seen him take to anyone as quickly as he had Charlie and now his mother.
    “Oh, don’t scold him for being honest,” Justine said to Violet with a tinkling laugh, then taking Sam by the hand, she led him toward the door. “Come on, Sam. If the ants haven’t found the syrup, we’ll have pancakes. And if Charlie doesn’t wake up by the time they’re cooked, we’ll eat his, too.”
    Inside the house Violet slowly followed the two of them to the kitchen. Along the way she glanced over her shoulder to see Charlie’s bedroom door was still shut. With all the noise that was going on now, she doubted he could still be asleep, and she wondered what he’d think about finding his mother here so early.
    In the kitchen Justine went to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. Empty shelves stared back at her. “My son didn’t bring any fresh groceries with