Читать книгу Jingle-Bell Baby - Linda Goodnight - Страница 8

TEN DAYS LATER, Jenna knew she’d recuperated as long as her limited finances would allow. Twice during that time, Crystal Wolf had stopped by the B and B, spreading her brand of Texas hospitality, but Jenna had been afraid to tell her new friend just how desperate things were becoming.

After a sleepless night of baby care and worry, Jenna now stared at a pile of unfamiliar forms at the county employment agency while the woman named Shirley cooed and hummed to Sophie. From the moment she’d started the paperwork, Jenna had been stumped. About the only thing she could fill out easily was her name. She’d finally scribbled the address of the Red Rose Bed-and-Breakfast as her residence, but she had nothing to put in the experience and reference forms.

“What kind of work are you looking for, Jenna, sugar?” Shirley asked, never looking up from Sophie’s sleeping face.

“I’m not at all particular, but I would like to secure a position where I could keep my baby with me.”

“Hmm. Well, that leaves out the fast-food places. I send a lot of folks to them. The junior high is always looking for substitutes, though you’d have to leave this precious one with a sitter.” She glanced up, brows drawing together over her black plastic glasses. “Don’t suppose you have a degree in education or computers?”

Jenna shook her head, hopes tumbling. “No.”

She’d spent one semester at Brown University under the watchful eyes of her grandparents. Unfortunately, neither they nor her ever-present bodyguards were as watchful as her mother would have liked. She’d met Derek there. Heads had rolled but Mother’s fury had come too late.

“How about the medical field? There’s always a need for that. Nurses, paramedics, lab techs…”

Again Jenna shook her head. An overprotected heiress was a useless human being.

Shirley studied her beneath thick blond bangs. “Do you have any training? Any experience at all?”

Jenna’s hopes fell even further as she bowed her head to the application and didn’t answer. She could plan a dinner party for fifty, direct servants and organize a charity auction; none of those skills appeared all that useful in Saddleback, Texas.

Even if no one recognized her here, she might have to move on. Yet, Saddleback’s friendliness and easy pace drew her. She wanted to remain in this remote place where her daughter had been born and where people treated her as just another person.

Shirley pushed her glasses up with one finger. “You don’t seem the type, but would you mind doing domestic work? We get a few calls for that.”

Domestics? As in a maid? Or a cook?

An idea popped into her head. She and Mother had taken a gourmet cooking class from a well-known chef. She’d loved it.

“Could I possibly keep Sophie with me?”

“That would be up to your employer, but I think most people would be all right with a little one around as long as you did the work.”

“Then,” Jenna said, suddenly thrilled at the idea, “I am a fabulous chef and quite amenable to domestics.”

Surely, cleaning a house couldn’t be that difficult. She’d watched the maids dozens of times.

Shirley grinned. “My dear girl, I think I may have something for you. A family outside of town needs a cook and general housekeeper. Want to check it out?”

A renewed zip of energy had Jenna sitting up straighter. “Absolutely.”

The woman returned a still-sleeping Sophie to Jenna’s arms and then riffled through a set of files, pulling out a card.

“Here you go,” she said, handing the information to Jenna. “I’ll call and let him know you’re coming for an interview.”

Jenna was beyond delighted, though admittedly a bit nervous as she gripped the index card in her fingers. This was her opportunity to start life all over again, to make a life for herself and Sophie, to finally be her own person.

With held breath, she glanced at the name and address of her prospective employer.

The information she read froze the smile on her lips.

Southpaw Cattle Company. Dax Coleman.

Dax slammed the telephone receiver down, then looked around the living room to be sure no one was listening before letting out a curse.

Last night, he’d dreamed of the little mama and her baby. Again. Then he’d lain awake, staring up at the dark ceiling as he listened to a north wind rattle the trees outside and wondered if the fragile pair was all right.

They haunted him. He couldn’t get them out of his head, a fact that infuriated him.

Now a phone call to the hospital told him exactly nothing. What had he expected? The day he’d visited her, he hadn’t even thought to ask her name. He’d just asked for the mother and baby he’d brought into the emergency room. How stupid was that? All the receptionist would tell him was that mother and baby had been discharged, but unless Dax was next of kin, and she knew danged well he wasn’t, no other information could be shared.

A distant relative of Reba’s, the hateful old biddy had never liked him anyway. She’d enjoyed putting him in his place.

“Fine,” he said to absolutely no one. The little mama and her baby were gone. They were all right. He could forget them. They were not his responsibility. He had enough of that to choke a horse already. End of topic.

No use fretting over a baby girl he’d never see again when he had his own problems to contend with. Shirley down at the employment office was sending him a new recruit this morning.

He laughed, a mocking sound. Good old Shirley had warned him she was sick and tired of finding him housekeepers only to have him run them off with his cranky-butted attitude. Her words. Cranky-butted. He could almost see her shaking her finger in his face.

He’d laughed when she’d said it. Now he wondered. Was he cranky-butted? Was he a bitter man with a bad attitude? Was that why Reba had walked out, leaving behind a new baby, a husband who’d adored her and an easy life?

He kicked a chair leg. Reba and her betrayal was not allowed in this house.

Dax snatched up the two empty glasses and a corn dog wrapper from the coffee table, toting them to the big, silver, step-levered trash can in the kitchen. Silly to feel nervous about interviewing a prospective housekeeper, but he needed to get this woman on board right away. Rushing home to meet Gavin’s school bus each evening took a bite out of his productivity.

He trailed back through the living room, wiping a shirtsleeve over the fireplace mantel then grimaced to discover his shirt was now covered in dust. He batted at it and sneezed when the dust flew upward, dancing in the overhead light.

The doorbell chimed.

As he strode across the carpet toward the foyer, he noticed two of Gavin’s miniature cars and a sock sticking out from under the couch—along with a dust bunny the size of a jack rabbit.

He gave up. He was a rancher. This was why he hired housekeepers.

With a final slap at his dusty shirtsleeve Dax yanked the front door open. His mouth also fell open as he looked down into a familiar face. A very young, slender and decidedly pretty face.

Blast it.

What the devil was the little mama doing on his porch? Please, please. Surely not to apply for the housekeeper position.