By Joan Johnston
Ny instances bestselling writer Joan Johnston has written over 13 unforgettable Hawk's method romances. Now benefit from the vintage story that all started all of them. . . sought after: Ranch hand to fix fences--and damaged hearts. . . while her first husband, a Texas Ranger, was once killed at the activity, Honey Farrell swore she'd by no means chance her middle back. She not has time for males, anyway--not with a ranch to run, a dwindling bang account and teenaged boys to elevate. So while cowboy Jesse Whitelaw turns up on her doorstep searching for paintings, he sounds like the reply to her prayers. yet Honey does not understand that Jesse's really a Ranger himself, going undercover to wreck up a cattle-rustling ring--and as she and Jesse catch up with, the secrets and techniques he is preserving may possibly damage them either.
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Extra info for Honey and the Hired Hand
Example text
She grabbed Cale’s white terry cloth robe and scuffed her feet into tattered slippers before hurriedly heading downstairs. Halfway down, she heard Jonathan’s excited voice. At eight he still sounded a bit squeaky. Jack’s adolescent response was lower-pitched, but his voice occasionally broke when he least expected it. She was already in the kitchen by the time she realized they weren’t talking to each other. The drifter was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee before him. Honey clutched the robe to her throat, her mouth agape.
But she couldn’t help the anxiety she felt. ’’ she asked, holding up the pot. ‘‘Don’t mind if I do, Mrs. Farrell,’’ Jesse said. ’’ Her name sounded far more intimate in that rusty gate voice of his than she was comfortable with. She stared, mesmerized for a moment by the warmth in his dark eyes, then realized what she was doing and repeated her offer. ’’ 42 HONEY AND THE HIRED HAND He brought his cup over, and she realized she had made another tactical error. She could actually feel the heat from his body as he stepped close enough for her to pour his coffee.
Honey had to do that herself. ‘‘The phone,’’ she repeated. ’’ It was clear he would rather she didn’t. His body radiated tension. Honey stood there another moment staring, her body alive with unmet needs, before she turned and raced inside the house. For a second she thought he would follow her, but from the corner of her eye she saw him whirl on his booted heel and head toward the barn. JOAN JOHNSTON 53 She was panting by the time she snatched the phone from its cradle. ’’ ‘‘Honey? Why didn’t you answer?