Wanted: Fairy Godmother (4 page)

“Wow!” She raised her eyebrows at the mess. Every square inch of the rectangular room looked covered in paper, magazines, and books. Even the huge stone fireplace to the right of her served as a resting place for haphazard stacks of supplies. A file cabinet, upended on its side, lay smack dab in the middle of the floor.

She recognized Stan from the picture she’d glimpsed. Positioned behind a huge desk piled high with odds and ends, Stan stood slowly, brushing his mop of dark hair off his forehead. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He fidgeted. “It’s my fault, Jake. I thought since you didn’t want to put this all on computer, you needed help getting your office organized.”

“You call this organized?” Jake’s dangerously low voice sliced across the room.

Lance, the owner of the squeaky voice, said, “I tripped and couldn’t hold on to my end of the file cabinet.” His multicolored tie-dye T-shirt revealed a tear near the left shoulder and his bell bottom jeans bore traces of frayed threads at the knees.

“It didn’t look so bad until then, really.” Marvin dragged his long, red hair away from his round, dread-filled hazel eyes. His oversized black T-shirt and baggy jeans swallowed his small frame.

Callie thought his freckles stood out rather sharply against his chalky white complexion. Glancing at the other two, she realized they looked little better than their brother. An invisible hand squeezed her heart at their dilemma. A kinship formed; she’d been on the receiving end of countless chastisements at the antics she’d been involved in.

Thinking humor would help, she crossed her fingers behind her back and said, “Remind me never to ask you guys to help me move. And, I’m afraid your careers as office organizers are over with, kaput!”

Heavy, stunned silence blanketed the room. She chanced a peek at Jake. He frowned, blinked once, and then chuckled. The husky, spine-tingling sound filled the empty, hollow spaces in Callie.

Within seconds, she joined in and so did Jake’s cousins. Relief shot through her; she’d defused a tricky situation. Not really knowing any of them, she’d butted in. Thankfully, it seemed they’d taken it rather well.
Yeah
, she thought,
she’d weave her magic on all of them.

***

A hint of satisfaction stayed with Callie as Jake skillfully guided everyone into the large living room. Curiosity brought her to an odd-looking chair made of cattle horns and hide. Gingerly, she sat, relieved when it turned out to be sturdy and the seat comfortable.

The dark paneled living room, the few heavy mahogany furnishings, and the various trophies of animal heads lining the walls left a lasting impression of an obvious absence. A woman hadn’t lived here in quite some time. Callie longed to change that, yearned to make it a cozy home.
Nesting,
her stepmother called it.

Jake remained standing as his three wards sat side by side on the brown leather sofa. Briefly, he glanced at Callie. His hooded gaze gave nothing away.

“Guys, I’d like you to meet Callie Andrews. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“Get serious, Jake.” Stan’s mop of curly hair bounced around his head as he looked from Jake to her, and then back again.

The redheaded boy, Marvin, shifted nervously as he eyed her speculatively. “Come on, Stan, we knew it wouldn’t be long before Jake brought one of his girlfriends to live with us. They’ve been hounding him for weeks now. There’s been a steady stream of them, bringing food, flirting, and trying to get him to put a ring on their finger or at least put them in his bed.”

A spear of jealousy stabbed her chest. Callie sat forward, disturbed at what she’d just found out and anxious to mend the false impression he had of her. For one thing, she didn’t want to be lumped in with the others. And for another, she knew Jake wouldn’t like the assumption. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? You could have fooled us by the looks you give him, man.” Lance, clearly the youngest, flipped her the peace sign. “It’s cool. Don’t sweat it. All the women act like that around Jake.”

Dread sat like a boulder in her belly. She’d lose the job for certain if Jake even suspected the truth about her long-ago crush, never mind the worrisome feelings of today. By the look on his face, he regretted the slip in her room.

The stakes increased the moment she met Jake, and then arrived at the ranch.
A safe haven, a chance to obtain her home,
her mind whispered anxiously. She
had
been bluffing before when she threatened to leave if he didn’t tell them. Every minute she stayed added to her resolve to make this arrangement work, added to her dream.

Was wanting a place of her own, a community to be a part of, to have something that no one could snatch away from her ever again, too much to ask for?

The thought of all those women chasing Jake only made her more concerned for her position. What if he changed his mind about her and went with someone from town? But, she recalled, in her room, he seemed almost desperate to keep her.

Facing Jake, she saw something shift, and then quickly disappear in the depths of his eyes. A certain vulnerability, she suspected. Maybe she could have it her way after all. “Aren’t you going to say anything to correct this mistake?”

His intent, penetrating stare searched her face. Obviously, he sought to determine if Lance saw something he hadn’t. Heat, of another kind, crawled up her cheeks.

The time in his arms, she guessed, gave her away. She’d never regret her temporary lapse in sanity. But she’d be a damn fool to show she liked it and might like some more. Somehow, she sensed he wouldn’t appreciate her romantic attentions. Why would he when he had so many to choose from?

Unnerved by the lengthening silence, panic set in. She rose, and then marched over to him with her hands on her hips. “Or would you prefer me to give the explanations?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He pressed his hand to the left side of his head where the scar cut along his temple. Clenching his jaw, apparently to stomp back a wave of pain, he said tightly, “Callie needs a place to bunk for a while.” He glared at her, shooting daggers. The unspoken message seemed to say,
Well, don’t you?

He’d picked up on her housing need; she hadn’t told him of her dire straits. Her life hung in the balance, but she refused to back down from her convictions about misleading the guys. “And?”

Part of her sympathized with his lingering headaches, but she pressed for complete, unvarnished honesty. She couldn’t live under the same roof with four guys when three held the misconception that she’d be there for Jake’s pleasure.

She knew his cousins had to be aware of the real nature of her residing at the Lazy L. They needed to hear the
whole
truth; their lives would be drastically altered by the outcome.

A familiar chord struck in Callie, connecting her with the young men, bringing the painful past back in waves.

Hadn’t she been on the receiving end of many unexpected upheavals in her early life only to discover later her parents wished to spare her needless worry on the upcoming changes? Their deception cost her more trauma than candor ever did. She’d never be a part of hurting anyone in that manner, especially not these three grieving orphans from what Jake had revealed over lunch.

Jake sighed heavily. “Callie isn’t my girlfriend—”

“Yet,” Stan cut off his cousin.

“Never,” Jake shot back so quickly that it seemed like a bullet rocketed through the air, hitting Callie directly in her tender heart.

Lance snorted loudly, clearly not buying the swift denial.

Rubbing his unshaven jaw, Jake said, “It’s true. I…I sort of hired her…for you guys.”

“A prostitute!” Marvin’s eyes bulged out and his freckled face went slack in astonishment.

Callie faced the trio. “Of course I’m not a hooker! For crying out loud, fellas, I’m your fairy godmother.”

Loud, echoing silence rang in the air, and then pandemonium erupted.

“Oh, blessed peace and quiet.” Jake sighed in relief as he walked across the wide back porch, down the creaky stairs, and then into the enveloping darkness. The ebony night swallowed him up instantly. Cool, welcoming comfort shrouded Jake. He headed toward the lone light coming from the bunkhouse.

Although his body relaxed, his mind stayed fixated on Callie Andrews. The woman would either be his saving grace or drive him to drink. He figured on the latter after the fiasco she’d put him through the last few hours explaining the situation to his cousins.

Underhanded? Sneaky? No one had ever called him that before.

He hoped for someone older, more mature, and not so damned attractive. She fit none of those wishes, shattering his neatly formed opinions of nannies. He couldn’t afford to be choosy at this late date. And he had to abide by
some
of her rules for now.

Why was she so adamant to tell the boys the real reason she was here? Jake thought once they knew about the makeover his plans would disintegrate like a newly planted flower in a raging downpour.
My mistake,
he mused now. Callie seemed to smooth things over with the boys.

He owed his cousins a decent upbringing. Jake couldn’t give it to them, but maybe he’d found someone who could. After all, Callie had a list of references a mile long that vouched for her childrearing skills and she’d been the only lady to take up for the guys, even before she’d met them. Didn’t that tell Jake she had the orphans’ best interests at heart?

And she had a way about her that appealed to the boys,
he admitted. Following her explicit instructions, Jake and his cousins changed the office from disaster area to super organized, more so than ever before, with a minimum amount of fuss and a lot of laughter.

A ripple of shock trickled down his spine. Laughter-that’s what he’d missed from his cousins all these weeks. The quiet, sullen teenagers usually moped around the house.

The cheerful noise still rang in Jake’s ears. The joyful sound had filled the house. Half of him delighted in this quick turnabout, the other half needed to adjust to a home filled with rambunctious roommates unsettling his normal existence.

If he wasn’t careful, this thing, and Callie too, would get out of hand. A crystal-clear vision of his escape plans exploding in his face rose like a demon before him.

He’d rein her in, temper her family-like notions, and set strict guidelines. No more hugs, however innocent they began, he placed high on the list, trying, with a great deal of difficulty, to stomp out the tantalizing memory of her tempting lips.

Grim determination grew in his chest as he hastily shut off the desire swirling in him. He had an itch that needed scratching, but he’d make damn sure it wasn’t Callie Andrews doing the rubbing.

***

Sniffing the scent of chocolate appreciatively, Callie entered the large country kitchen. The warm pine cabinets gleamed under the soft glow of lights attached to several horizontal wagon wheels hanging overhead. Bone-colored painted walls bowed to the overall sense of rich varnished wood surrounding the room in a lover’s embrace. She sighed in utter delight, and then focused on the kitchen’s occupants. “Where’s Jake?”

The muted talk died instantly. Three pairs of eyes pinned her in the doorway.

The uncomfortable silence stretched like a bow pulled too tight. Perspiration inched down the back of Callie’s neck.
Is someone going to talk or are they just going to stare at me?
she wondered.

After meeting them, a chord strummed in her tender heart. She wanted to help this unhappy, misplaced trio. But how could she be their friend when they seemed to dislike what she was here to accomplish?

“Playing cards, I guess,” Lance said sourly, pulling out a pan of freshly baked brownies from the oven. He straightened, placing the mouthwatering dessert on a nearby potholder. “Hey man, you sure you’re not a prostitute?”

Instead of being offended as earlier, Callie giggled. “I’m sure.”

“Jake’s girlfriend then?” Stan pushed his glasses higher on his small nose as he leaned against the counter.

“Nope.” Callie moved to the big, scarred ponderosa pine table and took a seat near a brooding Marvin. “Hmmm. That smells delicious, Lance. Jake told me you love to cook.”

Pure joy transformed his boyish features. He straddled a chair at her elbow. “Do you cook?”

“Sorry. I’m pretty pathetic when it comes to slinging hash. That’s why I admire your talents so much. That was by far the best chili I’ve ever had.”

He brightened even more. “Hey, thanks, man. You want to learn?”

“I’d love to. Will you teach me?”

As he nodded enthusiastically, Callie felt on firm footing. She’d extend olive branches and hope for the best. Doubts about his efforts to transform her from a lousy chef to an adequate one took root; she’d tried learning many times over the years and failed miserably.

“Why are you here anyway?” Marvin rested his crossed arms on the table and leaned his chin on top. His long, red hair fell forward, shielding his freckled face.

“You heard already,” Stan chimed in. “Jake thinks we need help.”

“I ain’t no cowboy and I don’t want to be,” Marvin said testily, shoving aside the dangling strands.

Callie sighed inwardly.
Nothing would be simple,
she thought. She tried to explain something she wasn’t even sure she understood. “I think Jake just wants you to fit in here. To feel at home, that’s all. It’ll be easier if you look the part.”

“Yeah, right.” Marvin snorted loudly.

Stan shrugged uncomfortably. “Marv’s right.”

Their dejection prodded Callie to say, “Jake’s your guardian. He brought you here to live with him, right? So why wouldn’t he want to make life easier for all of you?”

“He doesn’t really want us.” Marvin’s voice held a trace of sadness, plucking the thread of rejection in Callie. “He’s getting ready for the rodeo circuit.”

“Yeah, we overheard him talking to Gus, his foreman.” A cloud passed over Lance’s expressive features, making Callie’s heart squeeze in her chest.