LITMIR.BIZ

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suppose that’s possible.”

      He wasn’t flattered by the lack of confidence in her voice. It only made him more determined to prove he could do this.

      Scott McKay had never been one to back down from a challenge.

      “This will work out just fine,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “When d’you want to do it?”

      “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

      “Hey, for your generous donation to the ranch, talking to a kid is a small favor for me to do in return.”

      She dug into the leather purse she’d worn over her shoulder and pulled out a thin calendar. “Jeffrey and I are free next weekend. Beginning Friday, he has a three-day break from school.”

      “School? Isn’t he out for the summer yet?”

      “No, he still has a couple more weeks.”

      “So you want to get together next weekend.”

      “If that’s convenient for you. Are you available then, or do you need more time to—?”

      “Sure, that’ll work.”

      She looked surprised at his quick acceptance. “Don’t you need to check your schedule?”

      “I don’t keep a schedule. If you want to go next weekend, that’s when we’ll go.”

      “How can you run a business if you don’t keep a schedule?”

      “I improvise a lot.” He uncrossed his ankles, then crossed them again in the opposite direction. “Okay, so beginning next Friday, you and Jeremy and I will—”

      “Jeffrey.”

      “Sorry. You and Jeffrey and I will spend some time together, get to know each other, have a good time. Do you have any specific plans?”

      “What I would like for you to do is talk to Jeffrey about how crucial it is for him to focus on his future. He needs to know that the grades he makes in school are important, that he has to cultivate the right friends and make the right choices.”

      She made it sound as if she was trying to get the kid into Harvard. “How old is he?” he asked, thinking that if the boy was just fifteen or so, she could cut him a little slack. He’d have some time left to have fun before he had to seriously buckle down. Now, if he was, say, a senior in high school, he’d better...

      Blair started to answer, but a knock on the door interrupted her.

      “Excuse me a minute.” Scott stood and opened the door. Joseph, the ranch teen who’d been assigned as Scott’s host for the day, smiled shyly at him. “They’re wantin’ to take some pictures, Mr. McKay. Out by the arena. Miss Lindsay wants to know if you can come.”

      “Well, I...”

      “Go ahead, Scott. I have to leave, anyway. My nephew’s expecting me.” Blair stood, slung her purse over her shoulder and handed him a business card. “My numbers are on there. Give me a call after you’ve checked your calendar and we’ll decide where to meet—unless you change your mind, of course, which I would completely understand.”

      “I’ll call you.”

      She nodded, hesitated, then stuck out her hand. “It was very nice to meet you.”

      Because her rather stiff, proper manner amused him, he couldn’t resist taking her hand, then tugging on it to pull her closer so he could brush a kiss against her cheek. “It was very nice being purchased by you. I’ll be in touch.”

      Her face was flushed again when she pulled away. She murmured something incoherent and fled, though she made an obvious attempt to be dignified about it.

      Joseph grinned as he looked at Blair’s rapidly retreating back. “I think you flustered her, Mr. McKay.”

      Scott returned his grin. “I think you’re right.”

      And you ain’t seen nothing yet, pretty Blair Townsend.

      * * *

      BLAIR WISHED just once Jeffrey would look happy to see her after they’d spent a day apart. But when she stopped by her aunt’s house to collect him after the auction, he greeted her with the same unenthusiastic mumble she heard from him every afternoon when she picked him up after work. Her retired aunt, Wanda, lived next door to Blair, so Jeffrey stayed with her after school until Blair got home—a convenient arrangement for all of them.

      “Did you like the videos we rented for you to watch this afternoon?” Blair asked Jeffrey.

      He tossed his shaggy hair out of his face—he refused to wear a neater, more conservative cut, and Blair hadn’t insisted on that yet since there had been so many other problems to tackle. “They were kind of lame,” he grumbled about the films she had so carefully selected. “I wanted to see the new slasher movie. All the guys have seen it but me.”

      “I don’t think all the fourth graders at your school have seen that movie. I’m sure there are plenty of parents who agree with me that it isn’t suitable for children your age.”

      Jeffrey shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever.”

      “Get your things and we’ll go have dinner.”

      He ambled off without looking back.

      Blair turned to Wanda Townsend, who hovered nearby. “Was he much trouble?”

      Wanda shook her gray head, her eyes dark with concern. “He just sat in front of the TV all afternoon, watching those films. I asked if he wanted to go outside and play, but he wasn’t interested.”

      It had been Wanda’s late husband, Edgar, who had started the law office Blair managed. She and her uncle had been discussing Blair leaving her stressful, incredibly demanding position with a firm in Chicago and becoming a partner in Edgar’s practice. Just as she had decided to agree to his offer, Edgar had died of an unexpected heart attack, leaving his practice to Blair. It still distressed her that they’d never had the opportunity to work together. Instead, she’d had to scramble to catch up with his cases and keep his office afloat. She’d lived here only six months and was just beginning to feel comfortably settled in Lightning Creek when her brother, Kirk, had arrived with his motherless son in tow. Three days later, Kirk was off on another of his crazy get-rich-quick schemes, and Blair had been left with her sullen, resentful nephew. Six months had passed since that day, and there had been only a couple of telephone calls and a postcard from Kirk since.

      Wanda had tried to help with the boy, but never having children of her own, she’d often been at a loss in the face of Jeffrey’s moodiness. Blair had no experience with children, either, but she’d made a valiant effort to give the boy a good home. She’d bought and read dozens of parenting books, spent several hours in consultation with the counselor at Lander Elementary School and had tried to help Jeffrey find friends and interests here. Her efforts had been met with little reward. Every time she thought she was getting through to him a little, he pulled back again.

      He seemed to make a determined effort to hold other children at a distance. His grades were not good, though Blair knew he was much brighter than he let on. He refused to participate in sports, Scouts or any of the other diversions Blair suggested to him. And he was growing increasingly belligerent toward authority. She was becoming more and more worried that Jeffrey was a prime candidate for the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys—either that or reform school.

      Was it any wonder she’d gotten desperate enough to buy him a role model for a weekend?

      Jeffrey trudged into the room, dragging his backpack behind him. “I’m ready.”

      “Tell Aunt Wanda thank-you for letting you spend the afternoon with her.”

      Jeffrey gave Blair an annoyed look, but muttered, “Thanks.”

      “You’re welcome, dear. I’ll see you Monday after school.”

      “Yeah.

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