Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter) (8 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Raye

BOOK: Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)
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Fifteen minutes later, Tyler urged his horse forward, across the dark pasture. He reached the broken fence and went to work stretching the loose wire and stapling it tight. Even with the ranch smaller than Tyler remembered, there was always work to do.
Guilt shot through him. At one time this ranch had rivaled its namesake from the movie
Giant
, the half-million-acre spread dominated by Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor. But no more. The ranch had dwindled, a parcel of land sold here and there, until his father’s Reata was just a shadow of what it had once been, the herd nearly sold off.
Tyler was doing his damnedest to change that. In less than two months since his return, he’d managed to track down several of the people who’d bought a piece of his father’s land. He’d purchased every last acre back, all except for a few acres here and there. He was so very close to seeing Reata exactly the way it had been before he’d left sixteen years ago. Before he’d broken his father’s heart by walking away.
But past regrets were just that. Past. He was home, he was making up for lost time, reclaiming Reata and increasing the size of the herd. Things were falling into place. Now if he could just send Helen packing, her mind at ease that her granddaughter was becoming every bit the lady her daughter had been, he’d be sitting pretty.
 
CAFFEINE. She needed caffeine.
Lucky stumbled toward the kitchen the next morning, her eyes blurry, her neck stiff and her legs wobbly from a restless night in an unfamiliar bed. And let’s not forget the dreams. The sort that made your cheeks burn and your body crave a cold shower.
But of course, the shower hadn’t helped a bit. Ah, but the caffeine. A little coffee, a diet soda, a piece of chocolate cake—the desperate woman’s cure-all.
She adjusted the too-tight waistband of the black slacks she’d found in the guest room and promised herself she’d start a diet the minute she got home. Exercise, her conscience screamed, but she stifled the voice before it could summon any guilt. Lucky had long ago convinced herself that the walk to the refrigerator counted as exercise.
She peeked into the kitchen to make sure the coast was clear. Although she was dressed like Nanny of the Year, she was in no hurry to run into anyone. She couldn’t think, talk, even smile until she’d revved up her system.
“Bad night?” Tyler’s voice sounded behind her and she jumped.
“Geez, don’t do that. You scared me.”
“I scared
you?”
His critical gaze fixed on her and he fingered a wayward strand of hair that had slipped loose from the hairband she’d borrowed from Bennie. “I take it you’re not a morning person?”
“I’m fine in the mornings,” she grumpily replied. “It’s the middle of the night I have trouble with.”
“It’s 6:00 a.m.”
“My point exactly. It’s still dark out. Morning doesn’t really start for at least another two hours.”
“For you. Here we’re up at five.”
“Ugh,” she said, slumping against the wall, wishing he wasn’t standing so close and her head wasn’t pounding so hard. Or was that her heart? It couldn’t be her heart. Not this early. Not without a shot of caffeine.
“Go on back to your room and finish getting dressed,” he said. “I’ll have Mabel bring you a cup of coffee.”
“I am finished,” she said defensively, tucking the traitorous strand of hair behind one ear.
“Not your hair. Your shirt is on backward.”
“It is not” She glanced down at the simple crew-neck pullover she’d found hanging in the closet. “How can you tell? It looks exactly the same from both sides.”
“They don’t put tags on both sides,” he said, fingering the white flag peeking up at her collar. One fingertip brushed the pulse beat at the base of her neck and her breath caught.
“Uh-oh.” She lifted her hand to shove the stubborn tag back beneath the neckline. “I could have sworn I had it right.”
“These things can be tricky.” He watched her fidget with the tag. She shoved it down, and it found its way back up again.
“Blast it,” she muttered.
“Blast what?” came a woman’s voice.
Lucky’s gaze swiveled back toward the kitchen to see Mabel standing in the doorway, a basket of fresh eggs in her hands.
“Nothing,” Tyler said, grabbing the tag and tearing it free.
“Thank you,” Lucky breathed. The smile he gave her warmed her insides better than hot cocoa on the coldest morning.
“What are we blasting?” A jug of milk in her hands, Bennie followed Mabel inside, pausing to wipe her feet when the older woman frowned at her.
“I don’t want any traces of that barn on my clean floor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bennie said. “Look, Daddy. We milked Betty Lou. Mabel’s going to make pancakes and sausage for breakfast and fresh whipped cream from this milk.” Bennie set the pitcher down on the counter. Picking up a half-empty glass of juice, she took a huge gulp.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing something else?” Tyler asked her, his gaze going from her plain blue T-shirt, down past her blue jeans and sneakers, then back up again. “Like a dress.”
“But Daddy —”
“You know your grandmother will be upset if she sees you like that. Put on. that outfit she brought you last night, the one with the pink flower things on it.” When Bennie turned a horrified expression on him, he added, “Please, honey. You’ll look really pretty.”
“Of course she will,” Helen declared, walking into the kitchen. She wore an apricot-colored silk blouse and slacks, her makeup and hair perfect, as if she’d just walked out of a salon. Her cool eyes zeroed in on Lucky who busied herself drinking orange juice. “You look positively wretched.”
The juice stuck in Lucky’s throat. Wretched? Tired, maybe, out of sorts, even under the weather, but
wretched?
Definitely too harsh a word, even for somebody who’d put on her shirt backward. “Actually, I’m feeling much better.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Good, then you can join me. We didn’t get much of a chance to chat last night.”
“I’m sure Miss Myers would rather retire to her room. She’s still a little ill.” Tyler’s gaze riveted on her. “Aren’t you?”
“Come now, Tyler. If the girl says she’s feeling better, then I’m sure she’s feeling better, no matter how she looks.” Helen sat down at the breakfast table and patted the seat next to her. “Come and have a seat, Miss Myers. I won’t bite you.”
Lucky started to ask Helen if she would be willing to put that in writing, but instead of her own voice, she heard Tyler’s.
“I’m sure Miss Myers would love to visit, but she needs to rest. I want her in top form for Bernadette.”
At the mention of her granddaughter, Helen gave Lucky another thorough once-over. “She does look a little pale. And those clothes...”
“I’m feeling fine,” Lucky heard herself say a second before she felt Tyler’s hand on her arm.
“The medicine,” he declared, his grip warning her not to say any more. “I think she took a little too much for her heat allergy and now everything’s a little disorganized upstairs.”
“I haven’t taken anything—” His fingers tightened and the words stalled in her throat. “Actually, I could lie down a few minutes. Oh, my pounding head,” she added for good measure.
“Medicine.” Helen looked thoughtful. “Well, it’s a relief to know she doesn’t behave this way on a regular basis. I would hate to think this is the sort of woman you hired to teach my granddaughter how to conduct herself like a proper young lady.”
“I don’t need anyone to teach me anything,” Bennie chimed in, only to have Tyler cut her off.
“Rest assured, Miss Myers is the epitome of grace and elegance. This is simply a bad day for her.”
“And is this one of your bad days, as well?” Helen gave him a pointed stare. “You look dreadful, Tyler. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so
rough
-looking.” She sniffed. “And that smell. What have you been doing?”
“It’s called work,” he replied, his voice calm and even, though Lucky could feel the tension in his body, his fingers still firm on her arm. “Why don’t you visit with Bernadette while I help Miss Myers back to her room and get cleaned up?”
“A lovely idea,” Helen said. “Miss Myers and I can chat later when she’s feeling better. A long chat, after breakfast”
“Not enough time, I’m afraid.” Tyler did his best to look regretful, but Lucky could see the relief dancing in his eyes. “If you and Merle are going to make San Antonio by nine, you’ll have to hit the road in the next half hour.”
“There’s been a change of plans. Merle had urgent premeeting business.” Helen stared pointedly at the pitcher of juice, then at Mabel who looked as if she’d rather eat nails than pour the woman a drop. “He left an hour ago.”
“
Left?
But y-you’re still here.”
“Of course I am, Tyler. One evening is so little time. I thought I would just stay and get reacquainted while Merle went on without me. I’m staying two weeks.” She smiled and clasped Bennie’s hand. “Two wonderful weeks to visit with my granddaughter and—” she shifted her attention to Lucky “—get to know the woman you’ve hired to care for her.”
Lucky forced a swallow and turned her gaze to the man with the iron grip on her elbow.
And for the first time since she’d met him, Lucky saw Tyler Grant completely and utterly speechless.
7
“Y
OU’RE NOT GOING to throw up, are you?” Lucky watched Tyler pace the length of the library, a strange expression on his face.
“
Staying,
” he muttered. “She’s staying.” He raked tense fingers through his hair. “For two weeks.
Two
weeks.” He shot her an incredulous glance and kept pacing, his complexion visibly paler. He was upset, really upset, and she had the insane urge to cross the room and wrap her arms around him.
It was definitely too early in the morning.
“I’ll just go back to my room and pack,” she told him. “That way, if you really want to toss your cookies, you don’t have to worry about being unmacho in front of me. I was hoping to make it home before the lunch-hour traffic. It’s really heavy near the airport on Saturday—”
“You can’t leave.” He turned in her direction. “She’s staying for two weeks.”
“I understand that.” He’d gone off the deep end. She could see the desperation in his eyes and it did funny things to her. She could feel the sympathy churning inside her, spreading, swamping her common sense.
“No,” she blurted out as he advanced.
“No what?”
“No to whatever you’re thinking.”
“You can’t leave. Please, Lucky. It’s just two weeks.”
“I can’t abandon my life for two weeks.”
“Not abandon. Just take a little vacation. You don’t have a husband waiting at home, no kids.”
“But I’ve got my granny. I visit every Monday. What will she say when I don’t show up?”
“I don’t know. What?”
She opened her mouth, but the words stalled on her lips. What would Granny say? Probably nothing. With Alzheimer’s, half the time she didn’t recognize Lucky. She simply sat out in the garden, picking flowers. She loved the nursing-home flowers.
The thousand-dollar-a-month nursing home that Lucky could barely afford. Forget afford. She was two months behind, her tuition money hanging in the balance, and she was desperate. As desperate as Tight Tush staring at her with his deep blue eyes.
“You really think we can pull this off for two weeks?”
“I’ll help you, teach you everything you need to know. It won’t be easy, but you can do it.”
You can do it
. For those few moments as he stared at her, she actually did feel like she could. Funny how blind faith could pump up your ego and make you contemplate the impossible.
She shook her head. “I know you’re in a tough situation, but I can’t lose two weeks of work.”
“I’ll pay you,” he said. “Another thousand. That makes two thousand dollars for two weeks of your time.”
She shook her head. “I’m already getting a thousand for last night, so technically it would only be one thousand dollars for two weeks of my time. I want two thousand for two weeks, plus last night’s money.”
“
Three
thousand dollars? For pretending to be my nanny? I could get a real one for less than that.”
“Yes, but I’m already here, and you’re asking a lot. You want me to risk my life way out here for peanuts? No way.”
“Risk your life?”
“Your father nearly shot me yesterday.”
“I took his gun away, so there’s no risk. Two thousand,” he insisted. “Total. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
“You must not be a morning person, either.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re not thinking clearly, otherwise, you would realize what a terrible mistake you’re making. Helen already thinks I’m the governess, and you would have a lot of explaining to do if I up and left and you had to call the agency again.”
He sighed. “Now I do feel like throwing up.”
She smiled. “Agree to my terms and the urge will pass.”
“Three thousand dollars.” He ran a hand over his tired face. “I must be out of my mind.”
“Three thousand, plus the eighty-dollar cab fare your nanny stiffed me for.
And
you promise to get rid of any and all firearms in the house.”
He nodded. “All right, three thousand and eighty dollars, and the guns are history.” His gaze zeroed in on her again. “But remember. You do everything I say, when I say it, and overall, do your best to avoid Helen. Got it?”
“I’ll try.” Doubt crept in and took a few bites out of Lucky’s ego. “Do you really think I can pull this off?”
“You have to. Now stay in your room while I shower and change. I’ll meet you back here in half an hour, after I have a sit-down with Bennie and tell her your post is going to take a little longer to fill, so you’ll be staying for a few weeks.”
“She’s really great,” Lucky said.
For a split second, his harsh expression eased and a smile tugged at his lips. “I know, that’s why I can’t let this little setback mess everything up. Bennie is the one thing I’ve done right in my life.”
“Oh, I’d be willing to bet you’ve done more than just one, Tyler Grant.” That kiss, for instance.
Ooo
,
boy.
She turned and left, her heart pounding double time. Mabel must have put something in the orange juice because Lucky was usually comatose until 8:00 a.m.
 
WHAT THE HELL was he doing?
The thought flashed in his mind as he watched her leave the room, her hips molded beneath the clinging black slacks.
Control, he told himself. She was his employee, he was her employer, and despite the sparks between them, she wasn’t his type. When,
if
he ever settled down again, it would have to be with someone like Nan. Someone sophisticated, wealthy, refined. Helen’s idea of an appropriate wife.
Lucky was completely off limits. He would coach her and pass her off as the best nanny this side of the Rio Grande. Nothing more. Period.
“Lucky’s staying?” Bennie said when Tyler told her the news. Where he’d expected his daughter to turn sulky, accusing eyes on him, she actually smiled.
“It’s Miss Myers to you, and it’s only for two weeks,” Tyler told her. “Until the agency can send a capable replacement.”
“Until Grandmother leaves,” Bennie chimed in.
“Pure coincidence.” Tyler averted his gaze. He couldn’t fill Bennie in on the details about the theft and Lucky’s true identity. She might slip up and spill the news to Helen. “Miss Myers is very kind to have agreed to stay and help us, so I want you to cooperate and be nice, is that clear?”
“Since when am I not nice, Daddy?”
Tyler gave her a knowing look. “You want the full list?”
Bennie turned red and shook her head. “I’ll behave. I’ll act like the perfect lady.” She gave him a kiss and left.
Lucky joined him in the library a little while later. She’d turned her shirt around, the material molding to her perfect breasts the way the slacks clung to her hips. The clothes were a little too small to look elegant. Inviting, yes. Elegant?
Forget inviting. He needed elegant.
“If you’re going to pull this off for two weeks, then we have to prepare. There are certain things Helen will expect you to know. Proper etiquette, culture, who’s who in Houston—things like that. We’ll start tonight.”
“Start what?”
“Lessons,” he said, pulling a few leather volumes from the shelves. “Here,” he said, handing her the books. “Start reading these.”
“
Wine-tasting Made Easy
and
What Not to Say at the Dinner Table.
You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “The Dalton Agency doesn’t peddle your average nanny/baby-sitter. We’re talking educated, sophisticated women. Dalton nannies are trained for the wealthiest families.”
“Obviously.” Her gaze dropped to the books in her hands. “Gifts from your mother-in-law?”
“Actually, they were my mother’s,” he said, wondering why he didn’t just keep his trap shut. Her gaze lifted, connected with his. That’s why. She had eyes that begged him to talk, to pour out his soul. Damn, she was good.
“Trying to better herself?” Lucky asked.
“Trying to better the rest of us,” he replied.
“So she didn’t go for the rugged-cowboy type?”
He shook his head. “She liked the three-piece suit, pocket-full-of-money type that doesn’t sweat or get his hands dirty.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, sparkling with honesty and something else. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little dirt and sweat. It builds character, or that’s what my daddy always said. So where is your mother now?”
“She and my dad divorced when I was sixteen. She left and I went to live with her.”
“You two must have been close.”
Tyler sighed. “There was no being close to my mother, though I tried. I went to the right schools, had the right friends, wore the right clothes, even married the right woman according to my mother’s standards. Nannette, Bennie’s mom, was as blue-blooded as they come. She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, a product of good breeding and heir to one of the oldest fortunes in Houston.”
“Did you love her?”
“You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”
She smiled. “I’ve always been very straightforward. So answer the question. Did you?”
“We weren’t
in
love, if that’s what you mean. I loved the idea that my mother was so taken with her, and she liked the idea of dating someone her parents didn’t approve of.”
“You? But you’re smart and handsome and—”
“I’m the son of a lowly rancher,” he corrected, unable to stifle a surge of pleasure at her quick defense. “My father is self-made. His father was a sharecropper. Peasant stock compared to royalty.”
“Nonsense, people are people. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. So you do it in a fifty-room mansion in River Oaks, while I’m in a one-room efficiency on the south side. We’re still doing the same thing.”
It sounded so simple—too simple to someone who’d spent his life trying to measure up, and too close to the truth. He pulled another volume from the shelf and handed it to her.
She smiled and clasped the books to her chest. “I’m not making any promises. I’m about as peasant as they come, but I’ll do my best.”
“Fair enough. Just read as much as you can, as fast as you can today, and tonight you and I will meet for a crash course in the fine art of being a Dalton nanny.”
Meanwhile, Tyler was going to see what he could do to keep Helen preoccupied for the next two weeks. Right after he tortured himself with another cold shower and gave his libido a good lecture on how to control itself. And his heart Definitely his heart, he decided when she turned another smile on him. Two weeks.
What the hell had he done?
 
“DON’T YOU WORRY about a thing. Between me, Buster and the boys, we got your granny covered.”
“And tell everybody I’m sorry I have to miss Saturday’s game. We’re bowling the Quickie Cab Iguanas and I know the guys are nervous.”
“About bowling against a bunch of lizards? They’ll be fine without you and I’ll give ’em your apologies personally.”
“Thanks, Stella. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No need to thank me. Just take care of yourself, and make sure this guy’s on the up-and-up.”
“Oh, he’s legitimate, all right. He gave me part of the money as a down payment, and he seems like a decent guy.”
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s still a man,” Stella declared, “and they’re all predators, every last one of them. They’ll eat you alive at the first sign of weakness.”
“I should be so lucky. Of all the things I’ve ever been afraid of, being eaten alive by a good-looking cowboy has never been one of them.”
“Men don’t care about looks. As long as you’re breathing and you’ve got double X chromosomes, you’re fair prey.”
Lucky wasn’t in total agreement. Experience had taught her that it took a little more than simply being the correct sex to attract a man, any man, and to catch a guy like Tyler... The task was so daunting she didn’t even want to think about it.
For a good-looking man of means like Tyler, a woman would have to have the entire thing going on: great body, great face, an abundance of feminine assets and a mind. One who could read several books in a single afternoon and look dynamite doing it.
Lucky had the mind, but it was all wrapped up in the wrong package. No pretty-colored paper or great big bow. She was more the plain brown wrapping-paper type, with plenty of strapping tape and a warning that read Tampering With Mail Is A Federal Offense. Violators Will Be Prosecuted.
“Don’t underestimate him just because he’s nice,” Stella cautioned. “You’re a good girl, easy pickings for a lonely man out there in the middle of nowhere.”
Don’t I wish, Lucky added silently. “He’s definitely not interested, but thanks for the advice.”
They talked a minute more while Lucky promised to take care and guard her innocence. Then she hung up and sat down at Tyler’s desk to cram for a few more minutes before he arrived for their first nightly lesson.

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