Page 19 of It’s Your Love

Beth lifted the phone again, her eyes skimming across a new message.

She gave a pointed look at Grayson, her green eyes meeting his. “What about the three maniacal mares to deal with now?”

Oh, that. Grayson held out his hands. “They’ll be fine—and only one is a mare. I’ll be working with them, no matter what.”

Beth held up both hands. “I’m sure we can get this all sorted out.”

Dylan gestured toward Grayson. “Noah’s already hired him.” He took a bite of cracker, chewed, and turned to Grayson. “Do you actually work with kids? I mean, didn’t I hear some crazy story about an ambulance being called to your children’s program at your church?”

Beth gasped.

“I don’t know what you heard, but that wasn’t my fault.” Grayson held up his hands. “I was convinced to help out with a children’s program at church. It just happened that four kids ended up crying, one kid bleeding, and possibly there were seven very angry parents.” Heat crept up his neck. “There may have been an ambulance, out of an abundance of caution.”

Beth’s brows lifted. “Did Noah even do a background check on you?”

Grayson’s jaw dropped. “Hey, it wasn’t criminal. They were little maniacs.”

Beth folded her arms and looked him up and down. “And you—big, strong cowboy—couldn’t handle a few little children?”

Her words and the way her eyes flicked to his arms sent another warming flush up his neck. Um—

“Give him a chance, Beth.” Dylan crunched his cracker.

He knew Dylan didn’t give the plea lightly. Not with the history Grayson and Beth shared. And he wasn’t going to put their renewed friendship in jeopardy.

“Like I said, we can talk to Noah.” Grayson didn’t want to walk on the broken glass of memories any more than necessary. “I’ve got my family lot to sell, anyway. My plans were camp and getting the lot sold.”

She tilted her head. “You’re selling your parents’ lot?”

“That’s the plan. Get in, do the job, and get out.”

“Just here for the T-shirt?” Beth asked. “How touristy of you.”

At that, he smiled.

She was right, though. Except most of the tourists had visited Deep Haven more often than he had.

Dylan leaned back in his chair. “Don’t forget—I know a builder.”

“We still don’t have an assistant wrangler.”

A phone alarm buzzed. “That’s me.” Dylan sat forward and silenced his phone. “I need to run home. Marie has an appointment.”

“Don’t tell Eli about the camp situation. He’ll be crushed if he thinks there are any issues—and that kid has enough to worry about,” Beth said. She touched Dylan’s arm. “I’ll talk to Noah.” She stared at Grayson. “I guess find this guy an assistant so the trail rides can still run. I’m going to find a way.”

He recognized that set to her jaw. She had grit too.

This summer was setting up to be anything but the slam-dunk path to owning his own ranch.

* * *

Beth had completely losther mind.

With the morning sunlight promising another warm day, she grabbed her book from the tiny end table and curled up in the living room recliner with her coffee.

If only the sun could burn off the residual memories of Grayson Fox from the day before.

“How are you?” Courtney asked, sliding onto the couch facing Beth. She wore her faded jean shorts and a navy-blue T-shirt that said “North Shore nights” in silver sparkle across the front.