The Cowboy’s Surprise Nanny: Grant Brothers Series Book One Read online

  Grant Brothers

  The Cowboy’s Surprise Nanny

  The Cowboy’s Contract Marriage

  The Cowboy’s Rodeo Rival

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, APRIL 2019

  Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

  Cover Design by LJ Mayhem Covers.

  www.relaypub.com

  Blurb

  Ian Grant isn’t a man who accepts help easily. After promising his young son that he could participate in the strawberry festival, and then missing the admittance deadline, Ian’s in a bind and forced to ask the mayor for a favor. The mayor agrees, on one condition: his niece has run into hard times and needs a safe place to stay: Ian’s place to stay. She’s great with kids and Ian needs someone to look after his rambunctious son Andy while he ranches. Ian agrees, expecting some college-aged girl who’d flunked Algebra. Instead, he finds a full-grown woman—a beautiful and sassy one to boot.

  Katie Rylie has always dreamed of helping others by teaching them to cook. Her online persona was thriving—until a scandal with her forthcoming cookbook rocked her career. Not only did she have to pay back the entire advance, but her once-loyal fan base has turned against her. Defeated and with nowhere to go, Katie feels it’s better to hide out in the country until she can get her life back together. The offer of a free home, an open range, and a wily six-year-old to focus on sounds like just the escape she needs.

  When Andy’s diet restrictions force Katie to become creative in the kitchen, she finds herself drawn back into the food world, just as she’s falling in love with Ian and Andy. But Ian, who likes having control of everything, doesn’t know how to ask Katie to become a permanent part of their lives.

  If their love is ever going to work, Ian and Katie will need to learn that having it all doesn’t mean giving anything up.

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  (Grant Brothers Series Book One)

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  End of The Cowboy’s Surprise Nanny

  Thank You!

  About Leslie

  Sneak Peek: The Cowboy’s Contract Marriage

  Also by Leslie

  1

  The summer was shaping up to be one for the records, Ian reckoned. He could smell it in the air, feel the extra electricity crackling. On the Grant Ranch, left to him after the crash that killed both of his parents, Ian was careful to look after the state of the land. It was going to be hot as well as dry, and fires were a real danger. They were what he needed to be spending his worrying on: the fires, the cattle. Instead, he was standing in front of the courthouse and trying to talk himself into stepping inside.

  “Not taking off my damned hat,” he muttered grimly. Talking to himself in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t the brightest idea, but he wasn’t feeling particularly bright. He was feeling more like putting his fist through the wall. Everything in him told him to turn around and climb back into his truck, to get back to the ranch where things made sense and his presence was actually useful.

  “Stop it,” he growled to himself, arming the sweat off his brow and starting up the courthouse steps. It was for his son he was making this trip. For Andy, six years old and only starting to feel back to himself this week.

  Ian liked living in Canyon, Texas, most all of the time. It was a small place, only 16,000 people give or take. The kind of town where people could still leave their doors unlocked and kids rode bikes down back roads without parents worrying about them being snatched up. It was his town, the place he’d lived his whole life. He liked most everything about it but the doctors and the hellhole that passed for a hospital. Those doctors hadn’t done a thing while his wife wasted away with the cancer that came on fast as lightning and ate her up from the inside out. He wouldn’t have taken Andy at all if he’d thought he could help it, only the kid had been in so much pain; his hands clapped over his ears and his head rocking back and forth. The doctors performed surgery, putting tubes in his ears, and Ian had spent the last three weeks of Andy’s recovery white knuckling it, ready to knock out the first doctor who even looked at him the wrong way. He had been too busy worrying himself to keep track of what he needed to be doing, and he had messed up. That was why he was here; to right a wrong. For Andy.

  “Hey there, Grant,” Bobby, the courthouse’s one security guard greeted in his slow drawl.

  “Bobby,” Ian answered, tipping his hat in salutation. The two men stood there sizing each other up for a minute, Bobby eyeing Ian’s hat and Ian waiting to tell him he wasn’t going to take it off. Bobby must have sensed his fighting mood, because after a second, he shook his head and waved him on through. Ian sauntered down one corridor and up another until he reached the door with “Mayor Clark” embossed across it in gilded gold letters. Ian clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles on the door twice, hard and fast.

  “Enter.” Clark’s voice sounded unforgivably pompous. Ian remembered being a kid when Mayor Clark and his daddy had been friends. Back then, his face had always been red with too much beer, and people called him Bubba instead of Mayor.

  “Howdy, Mayor,” he said, letting himself in the office and shutting the door behind him. Mayor Clark sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, his ample sides spilling over the arms of his desk chair. His face was still red, specifically his nose, and Ian guessed the man had moved from his beer habit to hard liquor a while back. When he looked up, though, he looked genuinely pleased to see Ian, and Ian guessed that was a good thing. He was here to ask the big man a favor, after all. He hated asking for favors, but he was going to do it, by God.

  “Ian Grant!” Mayor Clark exclaimed, moving as if to get up but only making it half-way before giving up and extending his hand for a shake, “As I live and breathe. Didn’t expect to see you here today, son. How the hell are ya?”

  “I’m good, Mayor. Happy you had the time,” Ian answered, shaking Clark’s hand before settling uneasily onto one of the guest chairs. Clark rolled his eyes and made a waving off gesture.

  “No need for all of that, Ian. I’ve known you
since you were still in diapers. Just call me Bubba. That’ll do me just fine.”

  “Don’t think I can do that, Mayor, especially when I’m here to ask for a favor.”

  “Are you now?” Mayor Clark asked, leaning back in his chair and causing the thing to groan loudly in protest. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

  “It’s about my boy,” Ian went on, “it’s about Andy.”

  “Anything I can do, it’s done. I have to tell you, I’ve been meaning to drop in on you two, see how you’re faring with everything so different, and then with Andy being in the hospital. I’m ashamed of myself for letting things go this long,” he said, shaking his head. Whether it was genuine or not, he certainly did look sorry.

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I’m just here to ask you if there’s any way you can help get Andy into the Strawberry Fest. I know the deadlines passed and I’m sick about not registering him. Only with the hospital stay these last three weeks, it plain slipped my mind. The thing is, I told him while he was in there that once he was healed, he’d get to be a part of the Strawberry Fest. I guess you could say it was a bribe and now I can’t make good.”

  “Say no more. I’ve got the schedule right here, and I happen to know for a fact that there’s one slot open. It’s in—” He broke off, rummaging through his mounds of crap until he landed on the paper he was looking for. He squinted, scanned down the length of it, then nodded his approval.

  “Did you find something?” Ian asked. Mayor Clark waited for a beat more, then looked up and grinned.

  “I sure did. One slot left in the cooking area. Think your boy would be interested in that?”

  “I can’t say he’s had much experience, but I’ll say yes. It’s a hell of a lot better than not being there at all,” Ian answered, more grateful than he was comfortable admitting. He watched Andy’s name being penciled in and when it was done, Ian leaned back in his chair and actually sighed with relief. As it turned out, the relief was premature.

  “So,” the mayor continued, “now that that’s done, let me ask you a question.”

  “Sure,” Ian asked, immediately on his guard again, “shoot.”

  “I heard through the grapevine that Carol just retired. Any truth to that?” Mayor Clark asked. His voice was too careful, too nonchalant. That was never a good sign.

  “That’s true, she did. She deserves it. She’s worked hard for my family for a long time.”

  “She sure did. A hell of a housekeeper,” the mayor agreed, nodding profusely.

  “She was more than a housekeeper. She’s like family,” Ian contradicted, bristling a little at the comment. Mayor Clark held up both hands in a surrender gesture and nodded agreement.

  “I have no doubt. She’s a fine woman, Carol is. And I assure you, I don’t mean to pry. I only ask because there’s something I would love for you to do for me if you can find it in your heart.”

  “Say the word,” Ian answered, crossing his arms over his chest. This was why you didn’t ask for help. It always came with strings attached. But if there was a price to be paid for having the chance to keep his word to his son, he’d pay it—whatever it was.

  “It’s about my niece, Katie. She’s fallen onto some hard times, and I would love to help her out. With getting her confidence back, you understand. She’s on the way to becoming a fine woman herself if we can steer her in the right direction.”

  “What can I do to help?” He asked, trying to ignore that last “we.” He didn’t even know what good ‘ol Bubba wanted yet, and already it was “we.” More trouble than it was worth, without a doubt.

  “I was thinking maybe she could come to stay at the ranch for a while, try to learn how to fill Carol’s shoes. She’s a fine cook, and she’s got a tender heart. She could be a big help with your boy; I can promise you that. What do you say?”

  And because he had already accepted the man’s damn help, because there was nothing else he could say, Ian said yes.

  2

  Katie Rylie sat on the front porch steps of the Grant Ranch house, elbows on her knees, head propped up in her hands. She wasn’t the type of girl to feel sorry for herself, but every girl had her low moments, and this felt like one of hers. She had memories of the town of Canyon from when she was a little girl on her granddaddy’s knee. Good memories. Did that mean she wanted to live there, though? No, it most definitely did not. There was nothing in this town but tall grass and fields that went on so far they looked like the sea. She had always loved being in big cities.

  “Except you don’t have a choice now, do you?” she whispered to herself, the very words almost too heavy to say. As her grandma had been fond of saying, she had made her bed and now it was time for her to lie in it. She sighed, long and deep, and swatted one of the myriad flies buzzing lazily around the porch. It felt like it was close to a hundred degrees outside, and it was only June. The summer was only getting started. If the radio guys had it right, this one was going to be “one for the books,” and she had nowhere else to go.

  “I’m sorry, darlin, did you say something?” a kindly voice called out. Kindly or not, it jolted Katie so abruptly out of her thoughts that she gasped, jumping about a mile up in the air. Mrs. George, the recently retired housekeeper, tutted loudly and hurried up the stairs. Her wrinkled, kindly face was the perfect picture of concern and Katie was immediately sorry for giving the woman such a reception.

  “Oh, dear! I’m so very sorry. I never meant to give you such a fright!” Mr. Grant’s old housekeeper said, stepping forward and patting Katie’s arm as if the two of them were old friends. Thinking back, Katie did remember seeing Mrs. George at her grandparents’ farm when she was very young, back when her father had still taken her to see them.

  “I’m okay, Mrs. George, really,” she said meekly, getting up to her feet quickly and brushing off the seat of her shorts.

  “Nonsense, I’ll have none of that. It’s Carol, or it’s nothing at all,” the housekeeper said, putting her hands on her hips in a gesture that spoke of finality. Katie nodded gratefully. Southern friendliness was more than a stereotype. It was a real thing, and this woman had it in spades. It was clear that she also had plenty of personality. Katie especially liked her gaudy, extravagant hat, which was a wide-brimmed, bright red thing, unlike anything Katie had ever seen.

  “Please excuse my appearance,” Carol said lightly, bustling across the expansive front porch, “I know people don’t wear extravagant hats these days. I’m all gussied up for my Red Hat luncheon. I’m headed there directly after our get together.”

  “No, please don’t apologize! I really do love your hat. And thank you so much for meeting me here. I’m sure getting me settled is the last thing you want to do with your new-found retirement,” Katie offered, following closely behind Carol, who was now busying herself with getting the house opened up. Now that she was distracted from feeling sorry for herself, Katie noticed how large and expensive the house looked.

  “I don’t like to disagree with people, but on that point, you are dead wrong. I would do a lot to make sure my boys are well taken care of. Poor little Andy needs all the care he can get, dear boy. So many food allergies and losing his mother on top of it. It’s a lot to be carried on such small shoulders, don’t you think? And please remind me,” Carol said before Katie could answer, “you do cook, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Katie answered, trying not to outwardly flinch as she closed the front door behind her, “I cook. I guess you could say it’s something of a hobby of mine.”

  “Wonderful! That’s exactly what Andy needs. And I expect you’ll be able to do something with a kitchen like this, don’t you think?” Carol asked, hurrying through an impressive front foyer and a den the size of two of Katie’s last apartment put together. She opened a set of double doors, the kind that belonged in restaurants, and Katie let out a gasp. It was clearly just the response Carol was looking for, and she nodded her head in hearty approval. Katie was happy to please, but there was nothin
g feigned about her reaction. The Grant kitchen was, without a doubt, the largest she had seen. Neither her father’s fancy loft’s kitchen nor the test kitchen she briefly had the privilege of using came close to the one she was standing in now. She actually had to stop and do a full circle to take it all in before she could even think about answering Carol.

  “This is unreal!” she finally said. Carol chuckled, and Katie blushed furiously, but she meant what she’d said. The floor was dark wood with an occasional rug placed under an eat-in table and chairs, the cabinets snow white, and in the center of the room was a kitchen island roughly the size of a boat with its own sink and large prep area. The setup was a little old-fashioned and the appliances weren’t exactly new, but everything was excellently maintained—and the whole room looked well-made and well-loved. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, dated back to a time when things were built to last, with space enough to provide shelter and comfort for a large family. Katie had always loved kitchens like that, even if she’d never had access to one herself. The only limitation to her cooking in here would be her imagination. That, and the stain of the shameful thing she had done.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Carol laughed, taking her gently by the arm and steering her towards the island, “and I can see that you really do. That kind of sparkle in the eye can’t be faked.”