The Rancher's Christmas Promise Page 12

  Despite Greer’s ripe imagination where the nanny applicant had been concerned, she’d nevertheless pictured someone older. Someone old enough to have left her own country for another. Someone old enough to have a failed marriage under her belt.

  But Eliane—with her long, shiny, corn silk–colored hair and perfectly proportioned features—looked no older than Greer.

  Younger, even.

  “Because of Ryder?”

  She belatedly tuned back into Ali. “What?”

  Ali turned sideways in the booth. A move clearly designed so that she could look at the man in question without craning her head around.

  Greer’s lagging brain caught up. “I took off work because of Layla,” she corrected.

  Ali unrolled her knife and fork from the paper napkin. “Sure you did.”

  “Ali—” She broke off when another musical laugh filtered through the general noisiness of the diner. She exhaled and rubbed her fingertips against her scalp again.

  “Having headaches a lot these days?”

  “No,” she lied.

  Ali just watched her.

  Greer dropped her hands. The sight of Ryder’s booth in her peripheral vision was maddening. “Change seats with me.”

  Ali’s brows disappeared beneath her bangs. But she slid out of the booth and they traded places. Greer pushed Ali’s coffee mug over to her and wrapped her fingers around her own. She swallowed. “What if I told you I might have the solution to all of our problems where Layla is concerned?”

  Ali mirrored her position: arms resting on the Formica tabletop, hands cupped around her mug. Her voice was just as low as Greer’s. “The only problem we have with Layla is Ryder refusing all the offers of help he’s gotten from us these past months. The fact that he’s still keeping us all at a distance.”

  “Particularly your husband.”

  “He is her uncle. So what’s the solution? Did you find some legal loophole?”

  “It’s something legal,” Greer allowed. “But not a loophole.” And she was insane to even be mentioning it to Ali. Much less to think that somewhere along the line, she’d even been giving it the slightest consideration.

  “Just cut the mystery, Greer. What?”

  Greer exhaled. “Ryder mentioned finding a wife instead of a nanny. You know. For Layla’s sake.” She took a quick, nervous sip of coffee.

  Ali immediately looked toward his booth. “Are you kid—” She broke off when Josephine appeared, carrying their lunch plates.

  She started to set down the meals, but stopped. “You switched places. I remember when you used to do that when you were girls, trying to pass for one another.”

  Ali flicked her streaky hair. “Don’t think we’d have much luck on that anymore,” she said lightly. “Don’t s’pose you have any of that chocolate cream pie left, do you? I thought I’d take a slice home to Grant.”

  “I’ll package one up for you,” Josephine promised, and headed off.

  “He’s buried himself in a new manuscript he started,” Ali confided.

  “I thought he never intended to write another T. C. Grant book.”

  “I don’t know if it will be another CCT Rules military thriller or not.” Ali picked up half of her sandwich. “For all I know, it might be a children’s book. I’m just thrilled that he’s feeling an urge to write again. As for Ryder—” She broke off, glancing around and lowering her voice. “You think he’s going to marry the nanny?”

  Greer pressed the tip of her tongue against the back of her teeth for a moment. “Or...someone else,” she said huskily. “Me, for instance.”

  The sandwich dropped right out of Ali’s hand, landing on the little cup of au jus and sending it splashing across the table toward Greer.

  Greer barely noticed until Ali slapped a napkin over the spill before it dripped onto Greer’s lap.

  Then her sister sat back on her side of the booth and stared at her with wide eyes. “How long have you two been...” She trailed off and waved her hand.

  “We haven’t been.” Greer mimicked the wave. She didn’t mention the fact that she’d thought about it often enough.

  Ali leaned closer. “Yet he proposed to you.”

  “N-not really.” He’d been joking. Hadn’t he? “But the subject has come up. It would just be a business arrangement,” she clarified. “Not a romantic one.”

  Ali sat back again. She picked up a french fry and pointed it at Greer. “Are you crazy?” She shoved the fry in her mouth.

  “Nobody thought the idea was more insane than me.” Greer forced herself to pick up her fork and at least look like she was eating. “At first.”

  “When did all this come up?” Ali waved another fry.

  “Last week.”

  Ali suddenly dropped her french fry and assumed an overly casual smile.

  And the back of Greer’s neck prickled.

  A second later, Ryder was passing their table. He was following Eliane, his hand lightly touching her arm as they progressed through the busy diner. They made a striking couple. Both tall. Both perfect specimens of their gender.

  His blue eyes moved over Greer’s face and he gave a faint nod.

  Heaven help me.

  Then he was reaching around Eliane to open the door for her, and they were gone.

  Greer’s breath leaked out of her. She actually felt shaky.

  “Here.” Ali pushed a water glass into Greer’s hand. “Drink. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

  “I’ve never passed out and I’m not going to start now.” Still, she sucked down half the contents. Then she picked up her fork and jabbed it into her salad, even though the thought of food was vaguely nauseating.

  She was well aware of Ali’s concern, which was the only reason she was able to swallow the chunk of ham and lettuce. But as soon as had, she set her fork down again. “Layla deserves a mother,” she said huskily.

  Ali’s eyes immediately glistened. “You can’t marry someone just because you love a little girl,” she said softly.

  “Want to bet?” Greer cleared her throat, but it still felt tight. “I also love my sisters. And if I did this, Layla would be part of our family. For real. For good. You know I would be able to make certain of it.”

  “And you? What about you?”

  “What about me? I’d be getting the best part of the deal. Layla.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  Greer swallowed. “You know I’ve never thought about the whole marriage thing. My career’s been everything.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t about your career?” Ali pushed aside her plate of food and leaned her arms on the table again. “Six months ago you told me you were thinking about quitting. Remember that?”

  “Trust you to throw a moment of weakness in my face.”

  But Ali didn’t bite. She just sat there, watching Greer, eyes more knowing than Greer wanted them to be.

  “It’s not about my career,” she finally said. “At least I don’t think it is. Entirely, anyway.”

  “Gotta say, Greer. I’m feeling a little freaked out at this indecisive version of you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m a little freaked out by the settled-and-married-gonna-have-a-baby version of you. Maddie was one thing. She’s had mama written all over her since she was playing with dolls. You used to cut off the heads of your dolls and shoot them out of your slingshot.”

  Ali snorted softly. “I did not.”

  “Just about. You were both the ultimate tomboy and the ultimate flirt. Everything you want to try your hand at, you succeed at. I’m sure you’ll be the same way with motherhood.”

  “So says Madame Lawyer,” Ali said drily. “Maybe I had to try so hard because you’ve always been the brilliant one. Well. Until now.” She spread her palms. “You cannot marry a man you don’t l
ove, Greer. Not even for Layla.”

  “Even if it means solving this problem between Grant and Ryder? I’m at a crossroads here. All I have to do is turn the right way! Maddie’s a mom. You’re going to be a mom. Well, maybe I want to be one, too!” So what if he’d been joking? He’d been serious enough about the will. She could do a business deal just as well as Eliane.

  “What happens if you meet someone you really do love?”

  “I’m thirty years old. It hasn’t happened yet.”

  “You’re already talking yourself into it. I can tell.”

  Maybe she was.

  “If you do this, what’re you going to tell Mom and Dad? The truth? Or are you going to try making up some story about a sudden romance between the two of you? Because we all know what a rotten liar you are. They’ll see right through it. And Mom’ll be brokenhearted at the thought of you locked in a loveless marriage.”

  Greer exhaled. “It wouldn’t be like her history with Rosalind’s dad.”

  “She stayed married to Martin Pastore for years because of Rosalind. How’s it different?”

  “Well, for one thing, Ryder isn’t like Martin!” Her encounters with their mother’s first husband were mercifully few and far between. “He’s not cold and controlling.”

  “Could’ve fooled me by the way he’s acted for the last six months.”

  “You don’t know him. He’s...warm and...and loyal.”

  “Sounds like a lapdog.”

  Greer glared.

  “Oh, come on. You left yourself wide open for that one.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Admittedly, he’s an awful good-looking lapdog. We’ve grown up around guys in boots and cowboy hats. He does the whole rancher look better than most.”

  “He does the entire male look better than most.” She dropped her head into her hands again and massaged her temples. Then she raised her head again and looked at her watch. “I have to get to court.”

  “You didn’t eat anything.”

  “Trust me. Judge Waters isn’t going to care about that.” She slid out of the booth. “I appreciate the thought, though.” She headed for the door.

  Ali followed her, calling out to Josephine that she’d be right back. Then she pursued Greer right out onto the sidewalk. “Promise me you’ll think about this a little longer.”

  A gust of hot wind buffeted the striped awning over the door and she glanced up, absently noticing the clouds gathering overhead. Maybe the weatherman was finally going to get a prediction right.

  “All I’ve been doing is thinking. Maybe it’s time I stopped and just—” She broke off. Shook her head.

  “Tossed a coin?”

  She managed a faint smile. “Maybe.”

  Ali grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Greer, I know what marriage is really supposed to be. I want that for you.”

  Her throat tightened. “Baby sister, I’ll never forgive you if you make me cry now.”

  Ali made a face.

  Greer kissed her cheek and pulled away, checked the street for traffic, and started across.

  Ali’s voice followed her. “What did you do to your feet?”

  Greer waved her arm without answering and quickened her pace, trying harder to ignore the tiny cuts she’d gotten from the gravel outside Ryder’s house.

  She was breathless when she rushed past Bunny Towers sitting at the reception desk and headed straight for her office.

  “Oh, Greer. You have some—”

  Greer nearly skidded to a halt at the sight of Ryder leaning against her desk. His arms were crossed over his wide chest. He’d set his cowboy hat on the desk beside him.

  She swiped her palms down the sides of her black skirt and briskly entered her office, moving around to the opposite side of her desk. “I have to be in court in a few minutes.” She started shoving files into her briefcase, heedless of whether or not they were the right ones. “The interview with Eliane went well?”

  “She’s ready to start tomorrow if I say the word. Didn’t even ask about the live-in part. She also agreed to sign an agreement that she’d stay at least six months.”

  Greer felt a pang in her chest. Who was it that said timing was everything? “I see. Did you tell her about your other idea?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “You haven’t tossed your name in the pool. Does it matter to you?”

  She pulled out the will she’d drafted for him and handed it to him. “Not as long as you sign that.” Not as long as he didn’t decide the lovely Eliane would make a lovely mama and there was no need to plan for disasters.

  He tossed the document down onto her desk. “No. I didn’t tell her. Yet.”

  She shoved in a few more files, then hefted the strap over her shoulder. “A live-in nanny’s a lot easier to manage than a wife.” She edged out from behind her desk again and scooted past him to the door. “I’ll cancel the job postings when I finish with court today. Thanks for coming by to tell me.”

  “I came to bring those, too.” He nodded toward the chair sitting inside her doorway and she felt her cheeks turn hot.

  Her high-heeled shoes were sitting there.

  The same pale gray high-heeled shoes that she’d left in the grass at his place the night before when she’d run out on him like the devil was at her heels.

  “Right,” she said in a clipped tone. “Thank you. I’m sorry if that took you out of your way.”

  “Not out of my way. I was in town, anyway.”

  The clock on the wall above her head seemed to be ticking more loudly than usual. “Did Eliane, uh, remind you of your aunt’s model?”

  His lips twitched slightly and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

  “Hey. Didn’t expect to catch you.”

  She whirled to see Ali striding up the hall carrying two plastic bags containing takeout.

  “Figured you might as well have your uneaten lunch for—” Ali obviously noticed Ryder then. “Dinner, instead,” she finished more slowly. “I’ll just stash it in the break room fridge for you. Leave you two to...talk...or whatever.”

  “No need.” Ryder straightened away from the desk and slid his hat in place with a smooth motion. “I was just dropping off those.” He pointed at the shoes. “Your sister left ’em behind last night.”

  Greer cringed even as she saw her sister’s gaze drop to the chair.

  Ryder’s chin dipped a fraction as he thumbed the brim of his hat and turned sideways to go past Greer through the doorway. His arm still managed to brush against hers and she felt hotter inside than ever.

  Tick.

  Tick.

  The clock above Greer sounded louder and louder as Ali slowly looked from the shoes back to Greer.

  Her mouth felt dry, which was ridiculous. Ali was her sister. Together with Maddie, they were triplets, for God’s sake. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  Tick.

  “Sure,” Ali finally said. “Circumstantial evidence, right?”

  “Exactly!”

  “I think I’m worrying about the wrong thing.”

  “You don’t have to worry about anything, period.”

  Ali pointed. “You can tell yourself this is about Layla. And you can tell yourself this is about your job. About being at a crossroads. And I get that it’s all true. But if you think you’re considering marrying Ryder only because of all that, you’re dreaming, big sister. So what happens if you end up actually going through with this, only to realize you’re not on the business track at all, but he is?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Greer said flatly. “And it’s all semantics, anyway. He’s set to offer the job to Eliane.”

  “The job of wife?”

  “Nanny!”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Tick.

/>   Chapter Nine

  “Templeton! Get your rear end in here.”

  Greer’s shoulders slumped at the command.

  She dumped her overstuffed briefcase on her desk and backtracked to Michael Towers’s office. You bellowed? “Yes?”

  “Shut the door.”

  After her encounters with Ryder and Ali, she’d had a crappy afternoon in court. She’d been late getting to two different arraignments. One of her clients already facing a misdemeanor drug charge got popped with a second offense, meaning she’d lost all the ground she’d made on negotiating a fair plea deal. And she’d gotten into an entirely uncharacteristic argument with Steve Manetti about Anthony Pyle’s DUI charge, nearly earning herself a contempt charge.

  She closed the door uneasily.

  “Sit.”

  Michael’s office was twice the size of hers. Which still meant that there was only room for two chairs. She nudged the one on the right slightly and sat. “If this is about Manetti, I can expl—”

  “I warned you to plead out Dilley.”

  Her lips parted. She swallowed what she’d been going to say about Judge Manetti.

  “I tried,” she said. “Mr. Dilley refused. He’s insistent on having his day in court.”

  “You have more clients going to trial than any other attorney in my jurisdictions.” He was drumming the end of his pencil against his ink blotter. “I think you’d be more effective in Hale’s office.”

  “Hale!” She popped to her feet and the chair wobbled behind her. “He’s eighty-five miles away!”

  “He’s getting ready to retire. You’d be the senior attorney on staff. You could take as many cases as you want to trial.”

  “Sure. In municipal court.” It was the only one located in Lillyette, Wyoming. “Which is in session maybe three times a week. On a busy week. You’re punishing me for something. What?”

  “I’m not punishing you. I’m trying to promote you.”

  “By sending me to Lillyette.” Braden was a booming metropolis in comparison to the tiny town. “What if I turn down this...kind...promotion?”