A Cowboy In Shepherd's Crossing. Ruth Logan Herne

Hardaway.” He slipped his phone into the leather pouch on his belt and rubbed a hand to his neck. “I’m going to be honest with you.”

      “I am not paying for opinions,” she told him in a craggy voice. She’d been following them with a bright pink cane. She tapped that cane sharply against the water-stained floor.

      “I beg to differ.” He kept his tone even. “That’s exactly what you asked, and I’m telling you that the cost of refurbishing this place is astronomical. Perhaps—”

      “I’ve got a five-hundred-thousand-dollar budget earmarked for this. How much help can I get for five hundred thousand dollars?”

      Jace stopped dead.

      So did Melonie because that was some serious money.

      Jace stared at Gilda, then scanned the house, then looked at his grandmother again. “All I’m saying is that we could start over. Something more practical. We tear this down and build a well-constructed ranch house on the site. Everything would be bright and new and accessible.” He noted the cane with a glance. “That’s nothing to take lightly.”

      Melonie didn’t like Jace’s suggestion, but she understood his reasoning. An old woman in frail health—what was she doing here all these years, living amid the decay?

      She stood there, silent, letting the old woman make the choice as offered. And hoped she opted for a complete renovation.

      Jace had to shoot fair and square, even with the rich eccentric who had shaken his world to the rafters the previous day. He’d handle that later. This was different.

      He didn’t pretend to like her as she gazed around the house, considering his words. Growing up in Shepherd’s Crossing, he’d heard all kinds of things, and he was pretty sure no one much liked her, but this wasn’t about emotion. It was about common sense. “We could have it done before winter.”

      A small, cozy rebuild made more sense. He knew it. And he was pretty sure the women knew it, too.

      He didn’t look at Melonie. She’d be disappointed because he could see her mental wheels spinning as she moved from room to room. But who in their right mind would put that kind of money into—

      “I appreciate your suggestion, young man. I know it makes sense and it’s an honest man that lays out the truth even if it doesn’t pay as well. But I need my home back.” Gilda Hardaway locked eyes with him, sorrow in her gaze. “From top to bottom.” She gripped her cane hard, and her hand shook with the pressure. “I messed up my time, but I can fix this if God gives me the days and if you’ll take the job. It’s not about money, son.”

      He wanted to take offense at the familial term, but he couldn’t because she looked too sad and alone to mean anything bad.

      “It’s about fixing what needs to be fixed. Can you do it?” She turned to include Melonie in the question. “Now that the first hay is in and the winter lambs are off to market?”

      She was ranch-savvy. She’d caught him at a good time. They’d have to hire roofers first, and that would give him a couple of weeks to renovate his house to make it safe for the twins. “I can do it.”

      “But will you?”

      There was the crux of the question.

      Could he handle this mammoth job, with help, and still make it to Sun Valley as planned? Because as grand as this job was, it was one job and now he had not one, but three mouths to feed. Two babies to raise. And he couldn’t even begin to think about the astronomical costs of day care in Sun Valley.

       Stop worrying about tomorrow. If the Lord sees fit to take care of the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, He’s got you. He’s got this.

      Jace wasn’t so sure, but when he brought his gaze back to Gilda’s, something in her eyes, her face...

      Something made him say yes.

      He was pretty sure he’d regret it. He already did, truth be told, and when Melonie began shooting pictures of each room, he realized something else.

      For the next few months they’d be working side by side.

      She’d lay out plans and expect him to follow them. Oh, he’d looked at her magazine that morning as research. She liked to plot intricate layouts, but that was for a two-dimensional magazine, where every shot was strategically perfect.

      Gutting a place like this was about as three-dimensional—and dirty—as it could get. And the silk-wearing Fitzgerald woman didn’t seem like the type to get her hands dirty. Or compromise. Which meant this could be the longest three months of his life.

      Then she turned. Met his gaze. Smiled at him.

      Something went soft inside him.

      He hardened it right back up. No way was he about to let a pretty smile get in his way. Melonie Fitzgerald had fancy written all over her. He’d sworn off fancy a few years ago when he showed up at the church...and his bride was nowhere to be found. That was a punch in the gut for any self-respecting cowboy.

      But when they got to the truck and Melonie turned toward him, excitement brightened those gray eyes to liquid silver. Distinctive eyes set in one of the sweetest faces he’d ever seen.

       Maintain your distance. You’ve been nailed by a woman with dreams of stardom once. Don’t be stupid a second time.

      He wouldn’t be stupid. Not again. But with her bright floral scent filling the cab of the truck, Jace didn’t fool himself that it would be easy.