The Rancher's Full House, page 1
It took effort, but Jenna managed not to fall prey to Buzz’s crooked smile and flashing eyes.
“Maybe I’m just a sweet guy?” Buzz cocked his head to one side.
She shook her head. “Sweet? No. Infuriating, yes.”
“Why am I infuriating?” He waited.
“I’ve already told you. It’s like you’re...up to something.” She reached for the lamp switch. “What do you want, Buzz?”
His fingers wrapped around her wrist. “You know what I want. Another kiss.” He turned her hand over and pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I’d like to think you want that, too.”
The gruff edge to his voice seemed to mute the rational part of her brain. Her gaze wandered from his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist, up the wall of his chest, to the most knee-weakeningly gorgeous face she’d ever laid eyes on.
If she admitted he was right about her wanting his kisses—and so much more—there’d be no turning back. And even though she knew giving in to
Buzz Lafferty would likely end in heartbreak, she found herself moving closer to him.
What harm could one last kiss cause?
Dear Reader,
I’m so glad you’ve chosen to return to Granite Falls. If you’ve read previous Texas Cowboys & K-9s books, you’ve met Buzz Lafferty before. If you haven’t, you are in for a treat. Not only is he a super charming and handsome veterinarian, he’s funny. And while he’s vowed to stay kidless and carefree, he hadn’t planned on meeting Jenna. Meeting her mid-kitten rescue instantly earns Buzz’s respect—and grabs his attention. He can’t wait to see her again.
Until she walks into his clinic with four kids in tow. Jenna and the kids totally rock Buzz’s world. I loved writing them and I hope you will love reading their love story. Plus, the kids are pretty adorable, too.
Happy reading,
Sasha Summers
The Rancher’s Full House
Sasha Summers
Sasha Summers grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel—passions she’s used to write more than twenty romance novels and novellas. Now a bestselling and award-winning author, Sasha continues to fall a little in love with each hero she writes. From easy-on-the-eyes cowboys and sexy alpha-male werewolves to heroes of truly mythic proportions, she believes that everyone should have their happily-ever-after—in fiction and real life.
Sasha lives in the suburbs of the Texas Hill Country with her amazing family. She looks forward to hearing from fans and hopes you’ll visit her online: on Facebook at sashasummersauthor, on Twitter, @sashawrites, or email her at sashasummersauthor@gmail.com.
Books by Sasha Summers
Harlequin Special Edition
Texas Cowboys & K-9s
The Rancher’s Forever Family
Their Rancher Protector
The Rancher’s Baby Surprise
Harlequin Heartwarming
The Cowboys of Garrison, Texas
The Rebel Cowboy’s Baby
The Wrong Cowboy
To Trust a Cowboy
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Dedicated to those who welcome everyone into their family—blood or not.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Excerpt from What to Expect When She’s Expecting by Laurel Greer
Chapter One
“What in the Sam Hill?” Buzz Lafferty leaned forward to peer out the windshield, slowing his crew cab diesel pickup truck and pulling onto the edge of the farm-to-market road. He’d thought today would be like any other day, without any surprises to shake things up. The woman crawling around on all fours on the side of the road told him that wasn’t the case. He rolled to a complete stop several feet back from the bright red minivan, watching the woman with mounting curiosity.
He’d never spied the minivan or, from what he could see of her, the woman before. Granite Falls was small enough that everyone was familiar. Not best friends, necessarily—but acquainted. So, a stranger, especially one crawling around on the side of the road, stood out.
“Any ideas?” He turned to find Roscoe and Scooter, his canine companions, just as curious as he was. Roscoe, a large black-and-white Great Pyrenees-Labrador mix, had his head cocked to one side.
Scooter, a blue heeler, had both pointed gray ears perked up and his stubby tail was wagging as he looked back and forth between Buzz and the woman. He whimpered, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and rested a paw on Buzz’s arm.
“I know. I know. I’m going.” Buzz chuckled, adjusting his cowboy hat. “Don’t you worry.” He rolled down the windows so the dogs wouldn’t get hot in the truck, turned off the engine and climbed down. “Stay put.” He closed the truck door, knowing full well both Scooter and Roscoe would be leaning out the passenger window to watch what happened next.
As Buzz walked closer, he could hear her talking.
“Come on,” the woman crooned. “I won’t hurt—ouch—you.” She shifted on the ground, shaking her hand, before planting it and scooting forward.
Still a way back, Buzz squatted, scouring the thick underbrush of thistles, ryegrass and enough goathead stickers to make him wonder what or who she was talking to. He didn’t see a thing so he stood, pushed his cowboy hat forward to scratch the back of his head and walked closer.
“I know you’re scared.” She was using a singsong voice, pitched low and soft. “But I’m not scary.” She pulled up her hand again. “Ouch,” she hissed.
He was within earshot now. “Ma’am?”
She glanced back over her shoulder but he couldn’t make out much beyond a tangled mass of brown curls. With a puff of air, the curls lifted long enough for her eyes to be visible. Big eyes. But that was about all he saw. “I need help.” She kept her voice soft. “There’s a kitten...” She pointed into the underbrush. “It’s hurt, I think.”
“Hurt?” Buzz stopped beside the woman, glancing back at his truck. As the only veterinarian in Granite Falls, he’d made it into a mobile medical unit of sorts. If he could get to this kitten, he might be able to help it. “Did you hit it?”
“Me?” Somehow, she managed to sound outraged without ever raising her voice. “No. But it was limping when it crossed the road and I couldn’t just leave it out here.”
“I wasn’t blaming you.” Buzz crouched beside her. “Animals dart out and, sometimes, there’s no missing them. Especially on a two-lane road like this one.” It happened all the time. Living in the country meant wildlife encounters—of all sorts. “It’s back in there?” he asked.
She nodded. “Under that bush, there.” She pointed.
That’s when he saw the ant on her arm. “Ma’am.” He swiped the bug aside, his gaze sweeping the ground. A few feet from where she crouched, there was the telltale hole of a fire ant mound. “Those are fire ants.” He stood, offering her his hand. “Too many bites and you’ll be in a world of hurt.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” She flexed her hand. “Mean little things.” But she didn’t take his hand. “If the bites hurt me, that little guy is in even more trouble than I thought.” She scooted forward.
“Hold up.” It came out a little sharper than he’d intended. “You put your hand down on that and the fire ants won’t seem so bad.” He pointed at a small clump of newly grown prickly pear cactus.
“Killer plants and bugs?” The woman sat back. “What have I got myself into?” The last was so soft Buzz couldn’t be sure he’d heard right. “I can’t just leave the poor little thing. It’s...it’s a jungle out here.”
Buzz had a hard time swallowing back his laughter. A jungle? Cactus and fire ants were just part of Texas. A native would know that and keep an eye peeled for both. Lucky for her, she hadn’t encountered a scorpion or a rattlesnake—both were common in the Hill Country.
“What do I do?” she asked, sounding deflated. “We do?”
“I’ve got a catch pole in my truck.” Not that he’d caught sight of the cause of all this. “Let me get it and we’ll get the little thing out and I’ll take him to my clinic and give him a thorough assessment.”
“A catch pole?” She peered up at him, pushing the hair from her face and giving him his first good look at her. “What sort of doctor are you?”
Buzz found himself momentarily speechless. The kitten rescuer was pretty. Real pretty. Even red-cheeked and sweaty from the heat, he could see that. Finally, he shook his head and cleared his throat before answering her. “Veterinarian.”
“You are?” Her delighted smile revealed dimples. “Isn’t that a touch of fate?” She winced, flicking an ant from her forearm.
“I guess.” He offered his hand again. “Best get out of their path. People have wound up hospitalized from too many bites.”
She took it and scrambled to her feet. “Thank you.”
“Any more?” he ask
As he was walking back, catch pole, small crate, and thick leather gloves in hand, he saw her shaking out her shirt, stomping her feet and tugging up her pant legs. “How many is too many?” she asked him, tugging up her pant leg to reveal an angry red grouping of bites above her ankle.
He frowned, noting the welts on her arm and other hand, too. He didn’t feel too good about the number of bites. Those were just the ones he could see. Likely, there were more under her clothes. “Best get this kitten rescued.” The sooner the better.
She nodded. “It’s there.” She pointed. “Under that little rock ledge, behind those vines.”
Vines, he noted, that looked a whole lot like poison oak. He’d point it out later—after the kitten was safe and she was, too. He knelt, sweeping the underbrush with narrowed eyes. There, in a sliver of sunlight, he spied a patch of tawny fur. “Got it.” But if he missed, the kitten would have to bolt past them and wind up running out onto the road again. He whistled and tugged on his leather gloves. “In case I need backup.” He put the crate by his feet and opened the front, ready to transport his patient to the clinic.
The woman stepped back as Roscoe appeared. His size made him intimidating but he wagged his tail in greeting. Scooter ran around her once in a circle but both dogs wound up at his side. He gave them the hand signal for “herd” before setting the catch pole and moving it slowly, carefully, into the brush toward the tiny ball of fur.
In a flash of an eye and an explosion of leaves and fur, Buzz looped the kitten with the catch pole and carefully pulled the thrashing creature from its prickly hiding spot. It tired quickly, its sides heaving as it gave up the fight and sat, wide-eyed and panting.
“Huh.” He didn’t reach for the kitten. “That’s no kitten, ma’am. That’s a baby bobcat.” A bobcat whose right back leg had a large gash and was so swollen Buzz knew the wound had to be infected. “But you’re right about the limp. Probably hurts something fierce to put any weight on that leg.” As carefully as possible, he drew the catch pole close and reached out one gloved arm. From the looks of it, the little thing didn’t have much fight left in him. “I got you now.” He used his calming voice. “Nice and easy.” He gripped the bobcat by the scruff of the neck and lifted it, keeping it at arm’s length, before lowering it into the crate.
It growled and hissed and aimed one pathetic swat Roscoe’s way but didn’t fight Buzz. The bobcat went into the crate without a struggle. “The little critter is plum tuckered out.” Buzz closed the door and lifted the crate to get a better look at the animal.
“Can I?” she asked.
He held the crate forward, watching the woman’s entire face light up.
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” She glanced up at Buzz, smiling. “I’m sure it would thank you for coming to its rescue if it could.”
“I don’t know about that.” Buzz chuckled, setting the crate on the ground to tug off his gloves.
“Well, I thank you.” The woman sighed. “For saving me from the ants and the cactus—”
“And the poison oak.” He tucked his gloves through his belt and nodded at the vines.
Her eyes went round. “Poison oak? Like poison ivy?” She rubbed her forearm.
“Yup. You should get that looked at.” He didn’t like how red the blotches were on her arm. “The sooner the better.”
“I have some Benadryl in my purse,” she offered.
“Even so.” He shook his head. “I’d feel better knowing you’ll get checked out by a doctor.”
She nodded, studying him. “Thank you again, Mister...? Rather, Doctor...?”
He held his hand out. “Buzz Lafferty.”
“Buzz?” Her brows rose but she shook his hand. “Thank you, Dr. Lafferty.”
“You’re welcome, Missus...?” Not exactly subtle.
“Miss Jenna Norris.” She smiled.
“You’re welcome, Miss Norris.” He let go of her hand. “There’s a good doctor close by in my hometown. Granite Falls?”
“I know it.” She nodded. “I just moved there, actually. I’m the new sixth-grade science teacher at the middle school.”
Meaning this wasn’t the last time he’d get to see Miss Norris. “Then I’ll see you around town.” He gripped the handle of the crate. “Feel free to stop by and see the patient anytime you like.”
“Really?” Jenna asked. “I’d like that.”
Buzz wouldn’t mind seeing that smile again. “Other than the fire ants and cactus and injured bobcat, it was nice to meet you.” He reached up and tipped his hat at her.
“You, too, Dr. Lafferty.” Her gaze swept over his face.
“I best head back into town and get this little guy looked at.” He paused. “And let you get those bites taken care of.”
She nodded, waved and headed back to her minivan. Buzz stood, Roscoe and Scooter flanking him, and watched the red minivan pull away.
“That was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, holding up the crate. “You’re one lucky critter.”
The bobcat kitten’s growl was weak.
Not a good sign. “We’ll get you fixed up.” He slid the crate onto the front passenger seat and let the dogs load up into the back seat. “All good?” Roscoe barked, and Buzz closed the passenger door and headed round to the driver’s side. He climbed in, turned on the AC and pulled out onto the road. He chuckled, shaking his head over the newest addition to Granite Falls. “So much for today being like every other day, eh, boys?” Not that he was complaining. He could use a little excitement in his life and something told him Jenna Norris might be just that.
* * *
“I’m fine.” Jenna resisted the urge to scratch the bumps covering her arms, legs, stomach and back. “Really.”
Her pronouncement was met with open disbelief by her younger siblings.
“You all wed.” Five-year-old Frances frowned. “Bumpy and wed. Wed wed wed.”
“Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts.” Eight-year-old Garrett pushed his glasses back up his nose.
Yes. “Nope.” She grinned. “But it itches a little.” A lot. “That’s why the cream.” Other than mild irritation, she was fine. But they’d all been through so much that she knew little things like bug bites could set off a panic. Still, this was a teaching moment and, as a teacher, she knew she had to use it. She might not know much about mothering, but teaching? She had that down. “We didn’t have this kind of ant in Kansas so you’ll want to avoid them.” She resisted the urge to scratch. “You see them, you stay far, far away.”
“’Cuz they’re bad?” Frances asked. “Weally bad?”
“Yes. No.” Jenna paused. “I don’t think they’re bad, not really. They’re just...doing what ants do, I suppose.” Which was bite the crap out of you and make you swell up like a balloon.
Thirteen-year-old Monica dabbed a little more calamine lotion onto Jenna’s back. “I think that’s all of them. We could probably connect all the dots to make a picture.”
Jenna frowned. “Ugh. Lovely.”
“I wanna make a pitchew, Jenna.” Frances grinned. “I wanna see.”
“I was kidding, Frannie.” Monica tickled her sister until the little girl was giggling with pure glee.
“What do you guys want for dinner?” Jenna asked, opening the refrigerator. “I guess we need to go shopping.” She nibbled on the inside of her lip.
“Ice cweam.” Frances made her excited face—her eyes and mouth taking on a perfect O and her nose squishing up. “Ice cweam, ice cweam.”
“We can’t have ice cream for dinner, Frannie.” The mix of condescension, disappointment and tolerance was way more dad-voice than eight-year-old voice but Garrett had never acted his age. “Ice cream is for dessert.”
“Or pawties,” Frances argued. “Or boifdays.”
Garrett pushed his glasses back up and gave a long-suffering sigh.
“You can go to the store,” Monica suggested. “I can stay here with Biddy.”
Jenna was determined not to burden Monica with Biddy, their fourteen-month-old sister. “How about we all go? Biddy will be up from her nap soon.” She swallowed, trying to picture all of them at the store together. She was pacing herself with this whole motherhood thing. Not that she was their mother. She was and always would be their big sister. But since their mother’s death, she was now also their guardian.
