Free A Baby in the Bunkhouse by CATHY GILLEN THACKER Page A

her baby, but otherwise…quiet.”
    â€œThe thing is,” Hoss continued, “we know she’s only supposed to be here for a few months, but we don’t want her to leave. She’s the best cook we’ve ever had. So if it was one of your moods, or something you said or did—”
    â€œWe all know how grumpy you can be this time of year,” Gabby put in with a sigh.
    It wasn’t his fault, Rafferty thought irritably, that he still didn’t like the holidays.
    â€œWe just want to know what it is,” Stretch concluded, “so we can fix it.”
    Rafferty studied the cowboys.
    He hadn’t been in the bunkhouse all weekend, and in fact had been taking his usual pains to avoid Jacey.
    He had thought—hoped—keeping his distance would please her.
    Obviously not.
    Rafferty looked each man in the eye. They were all in agreement, all right.
    â€œYou really think she might up and leave?” he asked, dread spiraling through him.
    A sigh of trepidation echoed through the men.
    â€œWe do,” Hoss said grimly.
    â€œAnd we can’t let that happen,” Gabby insisted.
    Â 
    M IDAFTERNOON , J ACEY WAS in Rafferty’s study, putting the finishing touches on her updated résumé, when the front door to the ranch house opened and closed. Perplexed—Eli wasn’t due back from the Cattleman’s Association meeting for another two hours—she looked up.
    The purposeful footsteps grew closer.
    Rafferty appeared in the doorway.
    As always when out working the cattle, he had a fine layer of Texas dust on his clothes and stubble across his handsome jaw. His black hat was drawn low across his brow, his expression unusually somber.
    Aware he might not want her sitting in his chair at his desk, she explained, “I couldn’t get the printer driver on my laptop to work with your wireless network. Your dad said it would be okay if I used your office equipment.”
    â€œThat’s fine.” Rafferty glanced at the baby monitor with a frown. “Where’s Caitlin?”
    â€œSleeping in the nursery.” Jacey found herself tensing, too. “Is everything okay? You usually don’t come back to the ranch house in the middle of the day.”
    He strode closer. “I wanted to check in with you.”
    She met his gaze. “About?”
    He looked over her shoulder, at the information on the screen. “That résumé you’re working on.”
    She leaned back in his chair. “It’s tradition, when applying for a job. Funny as it may seem, employers usually want to know your work history and the names and phone numbers of your references.”
    He countered her sarcasm, “Except here.”
    Determined not to show any weakness this time, she kept her eyes on his. “I admit this job sort of fell into my lap.”
    Rafferty walked over to the window. He stood for several moments, staring out at the mountains rising in the distance, before finally turning back to her. “Are you unhappy here?”
    â€œThe fellas couldn’t be nicer.”
    He held her eyes for a long time. “Then why are you looking to leave?”
    Jacey pulled in a stabilizing breath. “My agreement with your dad was a temporary one. You know that.”
    Rafferty pressed his lips together ruefully. “The cowboys are hoping you will change your mind, and I know my father feels the same way.”
    Noting he hadn’t said how he felt, Jacey returned, “As much as I hate to admit it, I think my sister has a point. I have nearly ten years’ experience in property management. I should continue in that field.”
    He searched her face. “You enjoy it that much?”
    Jacey flushed under his scrutiny. “I like problem solving and helping people live happier, more comfortable lives.”
    He folded his arms. “You could do that here.”
    â€œTrue.” Jacey picked up a pen and turned it end over