Wyatt: Return of the Cowboy Read Free Page A

eyed Wyatt glumly.
    “You want one, too?” Paige asked.
    Wyatt shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks. Though I do like cheese crisps.” He flashed Seth a wide smile.
    It wasn’t returned.
    Paige silently fretted as she fixed Seth’s snack. He wasn’t usually surly to guests. Granted, none had ever stayed in the motor home before.
    “Can I get you a cold drink?” she asked Wyatt.
    “I wouldn’t refuse a glass of ice water. Sorry to be such an inconvenience,” he said, taking the glass she’d poured.
    “You’re not.”
    “Not yet.” He flashed that wide smile at Paige.
    She promptly melted. Like always.
    Damn.
    He wasn’t attracted to her. He was leaving in a week, if not a few days. He had a boatload of emotional baggage. All stellar reasons to avoid Wyatt Malone.
    Unlike her son, however, she returned his smile. “I can show you the motor home now.” She glanced over Seth’s shoulder at the math homework spread out before him. He loved science and reading but struggled with numbers. “I won’t be long,” she told him.
    His answer was to compress his mouth into a thin, disgruntled line.
    “He’s a good kid,” Wyatt said once they outside.
    “Most of the time. He’s not used to men coming by. My fault.”
    “Your ex-husband isn’t in the picture?”
    “We were never married. He left when Seth was three months old. Didn’t like being tied down. At least, that was his excuse.”
    She felt Wyatt’s gaze on the back of her neck. If not for the chilly air, her skin would have warmed.
    “Here we are,” she announced with exaggerated cheeriness.
    The battle-weary Winnebago was hard to miss. It sat in the small backyard like a resting giant.
    Paige went first to the side panel, turned on the gas and lit the water heater. Then, she unlocked the door, unfolded the metal steps and climbed inside. The motor home rocked gently when Wyatt ascended the steps after her.
    “It’s freezing in here.” She went straight for the small gas furnace mounted in the wall. The stubborn igniter required several attempts before lighting. “There,” she proclaimed with satisfaction and spun around.
    Wyatt had placed his duffel bag on the dining table’s bench seat and was watching her every move.
    This time, her cheeks did flush.
    “The closet’s over there. Here’s the bathroom. The refrigerator. Stove. Pots, pans and plastic cups are in the cupboard.” She gave him a tour of the motor home, standing in one place and pointing. “And you found the table.”
    “The bed?” One corner of his mouth curved up.
    “Ah…yeah.” She placed a hand on the overhead bunk. “There’s a sleeping bag in the closet if the two quilts aren’t enough.” She tried to step aside so he could view the bunk. “Not much to look at but it’s fairly comfortable.”
    “Trust me, I’ve slept in a lot worse places. Being on the road at lot teaches you to appreciate home. Even a motor home.”
    “I suppose.”
    “Take a lot of trips in this baby?”
    “Hardly.” She laughed nervously. “The furthest I’ve ever been is Billings.”
    The reminder of his broken promise to take her with him when he left twelve years ago hung in the air between them.
    “Then why buy a motor home?”
    “Because the Roundup RV Park was where I lived until five years ago.”
    “In here? With Seth?”
    “We managed all right.” Paige’s chin lifted a notch. She’d done the best she could with what little she had. “Beat the heck out of staying with my mother.”
    “How is she?”
    “On oxygen and more medications than I can count. She hardly leaves her apartment, which is ironic since she was hardly home while I was growing up. You saw her more than I did.”
    Paige’s mother had spent most afternoons and every evening in the Open Range Saloon.
    “That’s a shame.” Wyatt’s tone conveyed genuine sympathy.
    “The only good thing about it is she’s not here. Not making my life miserable. Not humiliating me by bringing home strange men