Montana Wrangler Read Free

crammed in the refrigerator.”
    â€œThe same stuff they had at the church?”
    â€œYes. The ladies were very nice to let us bring the leftovers home.”
    He made a gagging noise. “I’ll fix my own sandwich.”
    â€œUp to you. Don’t you want to wash your hands first?”
    He shot her a startled look. “They aren’t dirty.”
    â€œYou’ve been out there with the horses, haven’t you?”
    â€œSure, but that’s no big deal.” He dragged the plate of sliced roast beef from the refrigerator and plopped it on the counter.
    Her career in the hospitality business, particularly at an Elite Hotel property in Seattle, had taught her cleanliness was crucial not only for the health of the staff and guests, but for the hotel’s reputation as well.
    â€œBryan, please. Wash your hands before touching the food.” Who knew what he might have picked up in the barn or stable?
    â€œMom always said a few germs won’t hurt anybody,” he grumbled. He turned on the faucet in the sink, waved his hands under the water and turned it off. “You happy now?”
    Not even close. But Paige wasn’t Bryan’s mother. She needed to give him a break. The poor kid was hurting and likely looking for someone to rail against.
    Assuming he had won the battle, Bryan rubbed his hands on his jeans, which looked like he’d worn them to roll around in the dirt. Paige squeezed her eyes shut. Leave him be. You’re not his mother.
    Jay chose that moment to saunter in the back door, all long legs and lean body, his old tan-colored cowboy hat perched on the back of his head. He tossed his hat on a peg in the mudroom, then walked into the kitchen. A ring of sweat made his dark hair glisten where his hat had rested.
    â€œWhat are you doing, kid?” he asked.
    â€œFixing myself a sandwich.” Bryan found a loaf of bread in the bread box, a jar of mayonnaise in the refrigerator and put them on the counter beside the plate of meat.
    â€œDon’t go messing with that stuff until you wash up,” Jay said.
    â€œI did. She saw me.” He cocked his head toward Paige.
    â€œLet me see.” Jay took one of the boy’s hands, turning it palm up. “Yeah, right. I’ve seen cowboys spit and get their hands cleaner than that. Go use some soap in the bathroom.”
    â€œAw, come on. I’m hungry.”
    â€œYou won’t starve.” He turned the boy by his shoulders, shoving him gently toward the half bathroom that was just inside the back door.
    Bryan stomped away, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor, and slammed the bathroom door.
    Paige winced. “I was going to give him a pass on his dirty hands. I know he’s upset—”
    â€œHe’s a kid. He needs to be told what to do.”
    â€œI thought this one time, he said his mother never—”
    â€œKrissy probably didn’t. She wasn’t much for discipline.” He helped himself to a couple slices of bread and a big chunk of meat.
    â€œAnd you think it’s okay for you to discipline him?”
    He slathered mayonnaise on the bread. “Sure. Kids are like horses. They have to learn who’s boss. They’re happier if they know the rules.”
    Paige didn’t like the idea of Jay comparing her nephew to a horse. Granted, the boy smelled like one. But he was still a child, not a horse to be broken of his bad habits.
    Bryan returned to the kitchen, sullen but with clean hands.
    â€œGet a couple plates down,” Jay ordered, his tone easy and casual. “You can have this sandwich and I’ll make another one for myself. Pour us both some milk, would you?”
    Without balking, Bryan did as he was told.
    Still holding the can of ground coffee, Paige looked on with amazement and a fair amount of admiration. Bryan appeared quite content to follow Jay’s orders. Clearly Jay knew more about raising boys than she had ever hoped to learn.