arrival—which was confirmed when she gave her grandmother a pointed look.

“Do you have a minute when I could speak with you, Grandma? In private?”

“Come by my office after lunch.”

He could guess the topic of that conversation, but if the delay didn’t suit her, Rio hid it well.

Jo turned to him with a warm smile. “Welcome back to Hunter’s Hideaway, Cash. We’re looking forward to working with you for a good long time.”

Her gaze briefly touched on her granddaughter, then she crossed the lobby and disappeared down a hallway.

When Cash turned to Rio, he caught her eyes narrowed on him in speculation—and a hint of female interest that caught him off guard. If it wasn’t for the sudden flush on her cheeks when his eyes met hers, he’d think he imagined it. Princesses didn’t usually look at Herreras with interest.

He shifted uncomfortably as they openly sized each other up. This situation had the makings of a complicated employer-employee relationship for more reasons than one. “I’ll be in touch as soon I get the childcare arranged. But right now I need to—”

“Look, Dad! He likes me!”

* * *

To Rio’s relief, their locked gazes released as they turned to the now-giggling, black-haired boy who’d earlier made a mad dash out the door. He hopped up on the low porch, a German shepherd at his side licking him every inch of the way.

“See, Dad?”

The gleam in his dark brown eyes reminded her of the boy his father had once been. Cashton Herrera a dad. Unbelievable.

Cash joined them on the porch, crouching to playfully tug on the bill of the boy’s baseball cap before roughing up the dog’s glossy coat. The excited canine made a tongue swipe in his direction, but a laughing Cash dodged it, then stood. Rio watched the lively exchange with mixed emotions, finding it difficult to reconcile that the gentle hand on the boy and dog had once fisted in anger against an ex-wife...

Joey looked at his father with a sweetly dimpled smile, eyes bright with hope. “Can I keep him?”

“I imagine he has a home.” Cash glanced at Rio for confirmation.

“He does. His name is Rags, and he belongs to my brother Luke and his family. But you’ll be seeing him, Joey, if Luke’s daughter Anna babysits you.”

A cloud descended over the boy’s expression as he eyed Cash accusingly.

“I don’t want a babysitter. I want to hang out with you, Dad.” He looped an arm around the dog’s neck. “And Rags.”

Cash’s gaze flickered momentarily to Rio, then back to his son. “We’ll hang out together. But I’m here to work with the horses, so we can’t be together all the time.”

“But—” The anxious-eyed boy glimpsed Rio watching him and self-consciously halted, giving the dog a hearty squeeze.

Sensing his distress, she offered an encouraging smile. “Do you like horses as much as your dad does, Joey?”

She’d noticed he wore tennis shoes and shorts. A Phoenix Suns tank top. Not a miniature of Cash in that respect.

The boy shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Dunno.”

“You don’t?” Rio cast a doubtful look at his father.

“There hasn’t been much opportunity,” Cash responded as he looked thoughtfully at his son. “But we’re going to make a horseman of you yet, aren’t we champ?”

Joey nodded, but without much enthusiasm, his grip further tightening on the dog so that it struggled to pull free. It was hard to imagine a child of Cash Herrera not being exposed to horses from the crib onward. Most kids liked horses, though, didn’t they? If not, it might make for a long summer for the little guy.

And his dad.

At that moment she sensed Cash stiffen. Curious, she glanced in the direction his attention had focused, then she stifled a groan. Braxton and Luke were still standing by the deputy’s vehicle and now looking their way.

So what did the deputy want this time? To ask her out for coffee or to the library book sale? Or was he here to pester her again to train that new horse of his? Why couldn’t he get it through his head that she wasn’t interested in him?

“Cash!” Luke called over, then said something to the deputy at his side before motioning Cash to join them.

Puzzled, she glanced at the man standing rigidly beside her. Eyes alert. Jaw tight. Pulse thrumming at the base of his throat. Then abruptly he stepped off the porch and halted on the other side of his son in an almost protective move.

What was...?

Deputy sheriff Braxton Turner’s voice rose authoritatively. “I need a few minutes with you, Mr. Herrera.”

Copyright © 2017 by Glynna Kaye Sirpless

ISBN-13: 9781488018756

An Alaskan Christmas

Copyright © 2017 by Sandra Calhoune

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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