Back cover blurb coming soon.

EXCERPT

"I want you to get your butt over here right now and fix this problem," Frisco Joe Jefferson stated to his older brother, close to cursing some more before deciding the hell with keeping his anger to himself. He had a big crisis on his hands, and Mason could darn well share the misery. "Damn it, Mason, these women say you put up an advertisement for a housekeeper. If you did, then I suggest you come pick one out."

A moment passed as Frisco listened. Furious, he hung up the phone, turning to stare at his ten younger brothers, all of whom were close to the window in the kitchen of the main house so they could spy out at the approximately twenty women gathered on the front lawn. The women were all shapes and sizes, all races, all ages—and Frisco, as eldest during Mason's absence, was supposed to be in command. "Mason said to call Mimi."

"Typical," Bandera said. "What's Mimi supposed to do about it?"

Frisco shook his head. "Unless she can make all those ladies disappear, I'm not sure."

"I'd hate for all of them to disappear," Fannin said, his gaze longing. "Some of them are pretty cute."

"And one of them has a baby," Last said. "I'll take that one."

"We're not taking any of them," Frisco said with quiet determination. "I'm calling Mimi."

The brothers went back to their surreptitious peering through the window while Frisco dialed Mimi Cannady's number.

"Mimi," Frisco said abruptly when she answered, "I need your help."

"Uh-uh," she responded automatically. "No. I told Mason before he left on this two-week business trip that I unequivocally could not be responsible for his responsibilities. It takes up too much time, Frisco. I have my dad to think about."

What bull-malarkey. Sheriff Cannady was as fit as an untried rodeo rider. So what Mimi had told Mason, then, was best put as, Wake up, buddy. I'm not just the girl next door. I've got a life of my own, and I'm not content to be treated like a convenience anymore.

He sighed, unable to blame Mimi. "Listen, Mimi, I certainly understand how you feel. Mason just seemed to think you might be best able to pick through the housekeepers, in order to choose one he might like. He mentioned you helped him write the advertisement. I've got to admit, the rest of us are in the dark about what you two were thinking."

"Housekeepers?" Mimi echoed, clearly dumbfounded.

Much as Mason had been. Mason had sounded like he hadn't known what Frisco was talking about—initially. "I guess they're wanting to be housekeepers," he said. "There's about twenty of them out front. It seems as if they came together."

"Oh, my stars," Mimi breathed. "Twenty?"

"I'm just estimating. Did you send out an ad for a housekeeper? Because I gotta be honest with you, the rest of us don't think we need woman help on the ranch."

"Woman help," Mimi murmured. She fully remembered writing that ad with Mason. She'd typed the e-mail address to her friend at the Honey-Do Agency. But Julia would have called her before sending out applicants to the ranch, and she would never have sent twenty. Twenty! Something was wrong. "I did type an ad for Mason, but we never sent it. That bad storm came, the one which toppled the old oak tree, and the lights went out—"

She blushed, remembering clutching Mason and loving the feel of his muscles beneath his crisp denim shirt, and the smell of him, and the sound of his heart pounding against her ear. After that momentary letdown in her facade of just-friends, Mimi had vowed to stay clear of Mason. One day he just might figure out how she felt about him, and then most certainly, she'd lose his friendship.

Friendship was all Mimi had of Mason, and she was going to keep it. "We must have accidentally sent it out somehow." Dimly she remembered one of them hitting the keyboard before the electricity went out, but at the time, she'd blindly grabbed for Mason and forgotten all about housekeepers and other trivial things. Obviously, one of them had smashed incorrect letters, and sent the e-mail to the wrong address. Now they were all sitting square on top of a huge dilemma.

And yet, it would be good for Mason to see that he needed her . . . in spite of what he said to the contrary, his life would be so much better with her in it. But he'd have to learn that on his own. It was said that one could lead a horse to water but couldn't make him drink. Lord only knew, she'd waited so long on Mason that it felt as if her watering can was nearly dry. "Can't you interview them, Frisco?"

"Seeing as how none of us here think we need a lady at the ranch, I'm not interested in that job," Frisco said.

"I think you could use a housekeeper. The place is never clean. Or tidy."

"Then it's our job to clean our houses better," Frisco said sternly. "When there's as much to be done as a property this size requires, we're not too worried if the dishes stay in the sink an extra day."

"Precisely my point. You could use the help."

"But not the aggravation a woman brings. We have you, Mimi, and that's enough."

Laughter, not unkind, in the background nettled her. "What does that mean?"

"It means when we need something, you're kind enough to help us out."

That was the problem. Mason and all his brothers had the luxury of her jumping whenever they needed something. No wonder Mason saw her as an extension of his family. Not that it was a bad thing to have the Jeffersons looking out for her—it had come in handy over the years. But it was now or never. The tie that bound them had to be cut on both ends, or she'd always be little Mimi Cannady, almost-sis, tomboy next door, for-a-good-gag-call-Mimi. Toilet papering houses, tying cans on goat tails, painting rural mailboxes with smiley faces—they'd done it all. Together.

"Not this time, Frisco," she said. "I have a lot going on in my own life right now. Thanks for calling." She hung up the phone and went to check on her father.

LAREDO'S SASSY SWEETHEART

BULLWHIPPED

Laredo Jefferson was eight seconds from shaking the dust of Union Junction, Texas from his boots. Eight seconds from discovering the Something Big he was destined to do. He couldn't reckon how he'd promised those eight seconds to sweet filly Katy Goodnight, but he sure as shootin' knew why. He wanted to be her hero. And that meant riding the beast Bloodthirsty Black.

Laredo was a lover, not a bull rider. Still, he craved a challenge—and so, it seemed, did Katy. For this gun-shy Lonely Hearts gal handpicked him to unsaddle her of her virginity. Suddenly, where Katy was concerned, eight seconds could never be enough...

EXCERPT

Not Available.

RANGER'S WILD WOMAN

A HANDS-ON KIND OF HEALING

Happily ever after meant concussions and busted legs—at least for the Jefferson brothers. But if love meant being cursed with broken body parts, Ranger Jefferson darn sure wanted to keep his bones—and his heart—intact. To his way of thinking, even the military would be safer than snagging a Lonely Hearts lady...

But then Hannah Hotchkiss hopped into his truck with her wild-child smile, thumbling a ride to Mississippi and preoccupying his mind with thoughts of hot kisses.

Before he knew it, he was in need of tender loving care, with only one cure—convincing this woman to say, "I do!"

EXCERPT

Not Available.

TEX TIMES TEN

SHE WAS VERY, VERY GOOD . . .

Running from relationships was a surefire way to get caught in the marriage trap—and to get ragged on by his brothers. But no matter what those rascals said, Tex Jefferson wasn't afraid of intimacy—or of good girls. And to prove he was man enough to avoid the now-and-forever bonds of wedlock, he planned to temporarily marry Cissy Kisserton, the prettiest, naughtiest man magnet in Texas.

Somewhere between "I do" and make-believe bliss, his sinfully sexy wife became the most delectable, prettiest girl in town. Wicked she wasn't . . . so why was this love-'em-and-leave-'em cowboy tempted to accept forever with her?

EXCERPT

Tex Jefferson's brothers, Frisco Joe, Laredo and Ranger, had tried so hard to outrun a matrimonial state that they'd swerved and crashed headfirst into it.

Tex simply wasn't going to be caught like that. Running was not a fail-safe cure. His brothers had married good women, and they were happy changing their worlds to suit their new wives.

But I, Tex thought, know that marital stability is not my thing. He could ride the orneriest bull. He could bust heads when defense was necessary and sometimes when it wasn't. Rope, ride and range.

But he would die coming home to an Annabelle, a Katy or a Hannah every night. Good girls, every one of them. And Tex was happy for his brothers.

And Mimi Cannady, their next-door neighbor, had put a knot in his eldest brother Mason's life then married someone else. Merry hellfire was Mimi. Tex thought he could almost handle a woman like that.

Maybe. If forced.

But why should he fall for a lady he had no intention of marrying? Mason hadn't married Mimi, and surely that was an example to follow!

But Mason was miserable. Tex was glad to have temporarily left a house that only he and Mason were currently sharing, Tex wandered into one of the riverboat's many bedrooms. He couldn't see himself living on a boat the way Hannah's friend Jellyfish did. Too confining. Too narrow. Louisiana's Mississippi River had its charm but nothing like the great open spaces of Texas and the Union Junction ranch. He was a man of the soil, not a man of the water.

Of course, land was in Tex's blood, as it was in the blood of his eleven brothers: Mason, Frisco Joe, Fannin, Laredo, Calhoun, Ranger, Archer, Crockett, Navarro, Bandera and Last. The men shared three houses on the Union Junction ranch. With Frisco, Laredo and Ranger married, the quarters were getting less crowded, leaving room for Helga the Housekeeper. Tex suspected Mimi had sicced Helga on them to keep Mason "safe" from other women - but since Mimi had married Brian, maybe that thought wasn't honorable. Still, Helga had overseen the Jefferson brothers like a strict governess, making the sprawling ranch seem confining.

Startled, he realized he'd stumbled into the newly decorated honeymoon suite - Hannah's bedroom converted for that purpose, as Ranger had mentioned. There were white roses galore and two crystal flutes on the nightstand. Fascinated, Tex ogled the place where love ended up. You met a girl, you married a girl and then you bedded down with the girl, every night for the rest of your life.

Sheesh. Not me, Tex thought.

Next to the crystal flutes was a book that bore Hannah Hotchkiss's name. She was Hannah Jefferson now, since Ranger and she had just said their vows. Through the window, Tex could hear the sound of dance music and happy guests on deck.

He knew he was foregoing dancing for snooping. But he had thought Cissy Kisserton might make it to Hannah's wedding, since the two of them had gotten close during their infamous road trip with Ranger. He'd hoped for a glimpse of that platinum-haired man-magnet; a glimpse was about all a man could handle. But she hadn't attended.

Being nosy, Tex picked up Hannah's book. A picture fell to the floor, which he scooped up guiltily.

And there was Cissy Kisserton, looking like no Cissy he'd ever seen. She wasn't dressed in a mini-skirt and high heels. She wasn't wreaking havoc on a man's groin by wearing catsuit jeans.

This Cissy was dressed for church.

Whew. She was a wicked brew of sin underneath that churchy lace thing. Who was she trying to fool?

Tex wasn't admitting it, but he'd stayed on that bull, BadAss Blue, just to impress Cissy. Sure, she'd lied about the other bull, Bloodthirsty, pulling left so that Tex's twin, Laredo, wouldn't be able to stay on.

But Tex sort of admired a woman with gall.

And he'd stayed on his bull just to show Cissy Kisserton what he was made of. He figured she'd be appropriately admiring and grateful after the rodeo.

She hadn't been.

It was as if she had too many things on her mind to be bothered with him. A winning cowboy, and she hadn't given him the time of day. He'd beat his own brother - not that it was difficult since Laredo couldn't have stayed on a bull if he'd had crazy glue in his jeans - just to get her attention.

Tex turned his gaze back to the picture. Seven children stood around Cissy, some of them clinging to her. There was a church in the background. In fact, she was standing in a church parking lot. The baby stroller at her side held what looked like two more infants, and, he saw with a growing sort of horror, her left hand was on the stroller handle!

Tex's jaw sagged as if he'd been punched in a bar brawl. The nine little moppets of varying ages were going to church with her.