Читать книгу Her Rancher Bodyguard - Brenda Minton - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Someone screamed and Kayla shot straight out of the bed, her heart racing and her legs shaking as she stood in the middle of the unfamiliar room. White curtains covered a window that revealed a view of fields that stretched to the horizon and the distant hills of Texas Hill Country. A cat was curled up at the foot of her bed. A cat?

She looked at the calico feline, white with black and orange patches, and wondered how it had gotten in here. The cat stretched and blinked, fixing green eyes on her, as if she were the interloper.

The scream echoed through the house a second time and she realized it was more of a shriek. Someone else shouted, then a door slammed. Obviously the entire family was up. And if she hadn’t been mistaken last night when Mrs. Wilder gave the list of names and locations of her children, there were several of them.

Although she was tempted to hide away in her room, Kayla dressed and brushed her hair. Before walking out the door of her borrowed bedroom, she glanced back at the cat.

“Don’t you have mice to chase?”

The feline yawned, stretched and closed her eyes.

“I don’t like cats,” she said out loud. The cat didn’t seem to care.

“I don’t like them much myself. Did the screaming banshees downstairs wake you up?”

She spun to face a younger man, maybe in his early twenties. He had dark curly hair cut close to his head, snapping brown eyes, dimples and a big smile.

“I’m Jase.” He held out a hand. “I’m the middle brother and also the smart one. No offense to your bodyguard.”

She still hadn’t spoken. He took her by surprise, with his easy banter and open smile. A few months ago she would have flirted. But she had given it up along with everything else. For the past few months her goal had been a less complicated life.

This did not fit those plans.

“I would say ‘cat got your tongue.’” He glanced past her to the cat in her room. “But that’s pretty cliché.”

“Um, I’m just...” She couldn’t speak.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted.

“The cat’s name is Sheba. As in queen of. She lives up to it. And she wouldn’t chase a mouse if it crawled across her paws. Let me walk you downstairs. There’s safety in numbers. And there’s probably some breakfast in the kitchen. We usually eat after we’ve fed the livestock.”

“You’ve already fed the livestock? What time is it?”

He laughed. “Just after seven. And yes, we’ve fed, pulled a calf and gathered eggs.”

“Pulled a calf where?”

He gave her a sideways glance and grinned. “Pulled meaning delivered. The calf wasn’t coming out on his own so we helped the mama with the delivery. There’s nothing like starting your morning with a new life. Which I guess is why I’m premed.”

While they’d been talking he’d led her downstairs and through the house to the big country kitchen, where it seemed half the county had congregated for breakfast.

Boone’s mom, Maria, was standing at the stove. Two young women who looked identical were setting the table. Another sister, a little older than them, was at the sink, auburn hair falling down to veil one side of her face. A toddler on pudgy legs, her curly blond hair in pigtails, was playing with bowls and wooden spoons.

“Welcome to our zoo,” Jase Wilder said with a big smile that included everyone in the room. “The twinkies over there are Esmerelda and Alejandra. Better known to all as Essie and Allie, named after our grandmothers. They’re not as identical as they like to pretend. In the kitchen is Mama Maria, whom you met last night. Michaela and her daughter, Molly. And my lovely sister Janie.”

Janie with the auburn hair shot him a look and said nothing. Jase smiled back and answered, “Yeah, I know, Lucas is your favorite.”

“Kayla, I hope we didn’t wake you.” Maria Wilder pointed at her twin daughters. “Those two can’t keep quiet for anything.”

The sister Janie half smiled her direction. “They’re excited because you’re staying here. And you know all about fashion. They want to enter a twin pageant in San Antonio.”

“Don’t let them push you around,” Michaela warned with a half tilt of her mouth. She appeared to be in her midtwenties and as she spoke she reached to pick up her little girl. “If you’re going to survive, you have to stand your ground and become great friends with the word no.”

Kayla would have answered but the conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door closing and voices raised in discussion, and then Boone along with a younger man in his late teens, and possibly their father, entered the kitchen.

The older Wilder, gray haired and thin, pushed a walker. His steps were slow and steady. He glanced up at her and grinned. She saw the resemblance between him and his eldest son.