Reckless Heart Read Free

problem will go away.”
    Molly smiled, hoping the fear of not getting the job didn’t show. “It looks to me as if you don’t have much choice. According to the agency, you’ve driven the others away. The Montgomery Agency couldn’t get anyone else, so you’re stuck with me.”
    He frowned, as if he disliked hearing the situation put into words. “Or I can go to another agency.”
    “With the same results is my guess. Five housekeepers in seven months isn’t a great track record it seems to me.” Where were the words coming from? She'd rarely stood up to her father, how could she stand up to this giant of a man?
    “And you’ll do better? The longest any of them stayed was four weeks.”
    Molly nodded. “I’ll stay longer than four weeks. And be the best housekeeper you’ve ever had.”
    She kept the smile plastered on her face, hoping he couldn’t see how her heart raced.
    Josh didn’t want her to stay. Here only ten minutes and she reminded him of his ex-fiancée, Jeannie. Not in looks. Jeannie had been tall and blonde. This woman stood shorter, barely up to his chin, with light brown hair that waved as soft as silk around her face.
    For a split second temptation swept through him to brush his fingers through the waves to see if they were as soft as they looked. Clenching his hands into fists, he resisted the urge. A pretty face had misled him before. He wouldn’t go that route again.
    She was too young, too much temptation to keep around.
    He wanted a woman of fifty or older with grown kids and a lifetime of keeping house. A woman like he remembered his mother, who'd relished ranch life, enjoyed cooking for the men and sharing in the conversation at dinner that centered on cattle, market price of beef, and rodeos. Not some flighty young thing that looked as if a puff of strong Texas wind would blow her away.
    Yet she had a point. His house was a disaster. He hunted for clean clothes every day—hated doing laundry.
    His men were grumbling with the catch-as-catch-can cooking. One had quit last month, refusing to take another turn cooking. Even Lance, his foreman, had grumbled and threatened to look for another job if he had to cook another meal.
    And not one of the over-fifty housekeepers that had come to work had stayed.
    He was going to say yes. And live to regret it—he knew it.
    Yet she clearly stated the situation—he desperately needed someone. For however long she stayed, he could use the help.
    In the meantime, he’d call the agency and tell them to continue looking.
    “We'll give it a try. My guess is you won't last a week,” he conceded.
    Molly nodded and looked away, trying to hide her delight. If she could do the job, she’d do just fine until she finished her book. Living on the premises would allow her to save almost all her salary.
    If the book sold, then she could decide whether to stay until it became published or move to an apartment to write another one.
    There was plenty of time to decide that in the future. She'd barely arrived.
    Ideas crowded her thoughts. A dozen more sprang to mind from seeing Josh Hart. With her own fertile imagination, and the quiet setting of the ranch in which to create, she should have the book she’d already started completed within a few weeks, a couple of months at the most. Then there'd be no stopping her.
    “Come on, I’ll show you around the place. You can unpack and get lunch ready before starting anything else. There are seventeen ranch hands plus you and me. Can you cook for a crowd that size?”
    “Sure.”
    How hard could it be? She’d just multiply what she wanted to eat by 20. She knew from the cook at home that men like lots of hearty meals. Nothing frou-frou or fancy would be the rule.
    “We eat at six, one and seven. Sometimes later if we’re branding or dipping.”
    She nodded, wondering what branding and dipping were. Then wondering why he’d had such a hard time getting anyone to stay. Three meals a day, even if one was at six in