To Protect and Cherish
Karen Rose Smith
Silhouette Romance 0373198108

ORDER THIS BOOK! 
(this link opens a new browser window)

Anita Sutton never considered herself a Cinderella. But when Tate Pardell asks her to marry him to save her twins and toddler from a custody suit with her in-laws, she decides he can be her cowboy Prince Charming for life! 
 

REVIEWS

"You can't do better than to pick up one of Karen Rose Smith's tales of love and family -- sweet and spicy treats guaranteed to satisfy any romantic appetite. The hero and heroine of TO PROTECT AND CHERISH are honorable as well as likable, and the children are charming. In addition to well written dialogue and characterization, the plot has enough inner and outer conflict to keep the path to happily-ever-after lively throughout. I know I found TO PROTECT AND CHERISH thoroughly enjoyable." Jane Bowers--Romance Reviews Today 
 
"Karen Rose Smith pens a beautiful, heart-warming novel with TO PROTECT AND CHERISH. This is not a boook to miss if you enjoy that feel-good emotion after reading a great book." Cataromance 
 

CHAPTER ONE

  "You have three kids?" 

  Tate Pardell ran his hand through his thick, dark brown hair and took a second look at the young woman who sat across from his desk. His first look when she'd walked into his office at Pardell Construction had been long and appreciative. She wasn't beautiful, but with those green eyes, auburn curls and abundance of freckles, never mind the delicious curves, his reaction hadn't been an appropriate one, considering she was interviewing for the position of housekeeper. 

  As Anita Sutton's cheeks reddened, her chin lifted. "I know you advertised for a housekeeper, never expecting a...a family. But I really need this job, Mr. Pardell. And my kids, well--" 

  "I need a housekeeper, but I was looking for someone older with no attachments. Like my last housekeeper." 

  "Why did she leave?" Anita asked. 

  Tate leaned back in the mahogany captain's chair, studying Anita more carefully. He had intended to do the interviewing, but she had turned the tables on him. He decided that was okay for the moment. 

  "Dorothy turned sixty-five last year and when I moved into a new house, she said it was too big for her to handle. So she decided to retire and went to live with her sister in Waco." 

  Disconcerted by the eagerness in Anita's green eyes, he read her résumé again. "You don't have any experience as a housekeeper." 

  "I'm a mother, Mr. Pardell, so I'm a housekeeper every day of my life. As you can see from my résumé, I've waitressed for years. But I'm also self-taught on computers. A while back I took a course on web design, and I started up a business. I have a few clients and hope to get a lot more. I want to grow my business so I don't have to waitress or be a housekeeper." 

  "So this job would be only temporary?" 

  Dressed in black slacks and a cream oxford shirt, Anita fiddled with the button-down collar now, as if she were nervous...as if what he decided mattered a whole lot. "I'm sure it will take at least a year until my web design business can support us. You said you need someone now, and here I am." 

  Yes. Here she was. 

  Every time he looked at that face, his blood rushed a little faster...maybe a lot faster. His gaze rested on a group photo of his employees rather than on her, and he was reminded of the reason he'd advertised for a housekeeper right now. He gave an annual barbecue for his staff. It was a tradition. He needed a housekeeper who could put that together in the next couple of weeks and not be dismayed by the prospect. He needed a woman who could make his house run smoothly so he didn't have to think about it. He needed a woman who would prepare meals and stow them away, so when he came home late he'd have more to eat than beef jerky. 

  "How old are your kids?" he asked warily. He'd never had any experience with children, and he wasn't sure he wanted it now. 

  The sweetest smile he'd ever seen spread across Anita's lips. "My twins, Corey and Jared, are five. Little Marie is ten-and-a-half months old." 

  The surprises kept coming. "You have a baby?" 

  "She's a very good baby, Mr. Pardell. A sound sleeper. I can't promise you won't know we're around, but I'm a good mother. I don't let the boys run wild, and I keep Marie close." 

  Picturing this woman as a mother unsettled Tate terribly. Maybe because of the stirring he felt whenever he looked at her. Maybe because his desire and the pictures that came with it didn't go hand-in-hand with the tableau of a woman caring for children. 

  "Do you have anyone else who's interviewed for this position?" Anita asked. 

  Hell, yes, he'd had women who'd interviewed for the position! None that he'd wanted to consider, though. Either the ladies he'd interviewed didn't do windows, didn't cook, or didn't like being stuck out of town on a ranch. There had been one who had sashayed in with long, red fingernails and bleached blond hair with a look in her eye that told him being Mrs. Tate Pardell had been high on her priority list. 

  In Eastern Texas, Pardell Construction was a name that had grown over the past few years. Tate was proud of his accomplishments and most of the decisions he'd made that had brought him to the place where he was now--respected in the community and financially secure. More than one woman had seen him as a prize. He'd misjudged the last one and had gotten badly burned. Anita Sutton didn't look as if she had a deceptive bone in her body with her innocent, vulnerable look, but he wasn't so easily fooled now. 

  "I've interviewed a few other applicants," he finally answered tacitly. 

  "Let me show you what I can do," Anita responded with some excitement in her voice, sliding to the edge of her chair. 

  "Show me?" 

  "Yes. Let me come to your house this weekend and cook a meal for you. Hire me temporarily if you must until I can prove to you that this can work." 

  Deciding to see how honest she could be, he asked, "So what's the real reason for you wanting this job?" He tried to keep his voice conversationally even, but he wanted the truth. He was going to see if she would give it. 

  When Anita looked down at her hands, her curly shoulder-length hair hid her face. Then she raised her gaze to his once more. "When my husband died a year ago, I vowed to my kids I'd provide them with a good life. I don't want to just take care of their basic needs. I want to send them to college. That's why I took that adult ed class on web design. But...Larry left bills. I have to pay medical expenses for the week after the accident..the week before he died. In addition, I had more medical bills when Marie was born. I'm not covering our expenses as a waitress, and last month my rent went up again. I need something steady that pays more until my business gets off the ground. The salary you offered is generous, and the room and board would be a God-send. I could save a lot of my salary, pay off debts and then build a nest egg." 

  He knew what she was saying could be true. However, before he sampled her cooking, before he tested her as a housekeeper, he had to know more about those kids. He just couldn't imagine three of them under foot. Then again, he wasn't home that much. 

  "Are your boys in school yet?" 

  "They start Tuesday. All day kindergarten." 

  As he checked his watch, he asked, "So they're at home now?" 

  "I have a neighbor who babysits for me. She comes to my apartment." 

  Making a decision, he stood. "All right. I want to meet them." 

  When he came around the desk, he saw her eyes start at his boots and run up his 6'2" frame. It made him hot, thinking she was checking him out in the same way he'd appraised her. 

  "Now?" she asked, her voice high and unsure. 

  He wanted to catch the kids unawares. He wanted to see her place. He wanted to find out what kind of woman she was before he decided to employ her and let her into his house. "Yes, now. Is that a problem?" 

  When she rose, too, she seemed like such a little bit of a thing. Maybe 5'4"? "No. No problem. Uh...do you want my address?" 

  "I'll follow you." When she looked troubled he asked, "What's wrong? Is there a reason you don't want me to go home with you now?" He wondered if she'd been lying about something and he was going to catch her in it. 

  Blushing again, she admitted, "It's just that my apartment might not be straightened up." 

  "Might not?" 

  She gave a nervous little laugh. "Well, with kids--" She stopped, not wanting to sink her chances at the job. 

  "Yes? With kids?" 

  "Never mind," she said, turning toward the door. "Let's go." Without another look at him, she pushed open the glass door to Pardell Construction and went outside into the bright, August day. 

  Tate followed her, wondering just what in the heck he was getting himself into. 

  As Anita cast a glance at Tate Pardell following her in his red SUV, she was a nervous wreck. She did need this job. Desperately. Filing for bankruptcy was an option to wipe out her debt, including the credit card debt Larry had racked up before he'd died. But it was a solution she didn't want to face. It might be foolhardy nobleness on her part, but she wanted to pay back the people she owed. 

  When she snuck a peek at Tate again and caught the intent expression under his tan Stetson as he drove, her pulse raced. She'd never expected to be attracted to him. She'd scoped him out on the internet before setting up the interview because she wouldn't move her kids into just anyone's house. Not that she could tell character from a few newspaper articles, but she'd learned enough to make her set up the appointment for the interview. He had money, that was true. He'd dated lots of women--model types, that was also true. However, he was involved in charitable works. There had been a picture of him serving soup at a shelter for the homeless. He apparently helped out every weekend during the winter months. A man who did that on his free time had to have some place in his heart that was filled with goodness. At least enough goodness that she and her kids would be safe in his house. 

  Meeting him had reinforced her opinion. 

  Truth be told, she didn't expect much of men anymore. Her father had walked out, and Larry had certainly let her down. Yet she wouldn't be involved in Tate Pardell's personal life. She'd be his employee--his housekeeper--and that was all she cared about. 

  On a Friday afternoon, curbside parking in front of her apartment was available. Her unit was one of eight in a two-story building. It wasn't in the best part of town, but she had good neighbors. She'd hung a dried flower wreath on the door and planted marigolds in a window-box decorating the single window. After she pulled to a stop, she heard the purr of Tate's SUV's engine behind her as he parked. 

  Climbing out of her car, she led the way to her doorstep. 

  When he met her there, he muttered, "I hope you don't go out alone at night." He glanced at the abandoned building next to the apartment structure, then across the street where the row houses were run down. 

  Her shoulders squared. "Clear Springs is too small to have a high crime rate." 

  "No place is immune from drugs and guns these days," he returned. 

  "If I could move us into a better area, I would," she said self-defensively. 

  With one booted foot on the first step, his hand in one pocket, his Stetson drawn low, he gave her a penetrating look. Then he responded, "Yes, I suppose you would." He motioned in front of him. "Lead the way." 

  The August afternoon was almost balmy and a breeze lifted a few curls along her cheek. As she passed Tate, his forearm brushed her wrist and she felt the contact too many places. Covering her sudden awareness of him, she found her house key on the ring and unlocked the door. 

  When she stepped inside the living room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Coloring books and crayons littered the scarred coffee table, and two pairs of small size sneakers lay in front of the TV. Other than that, the room was clean and neat. 

  Noticing Tate looking around with interest, she tried to see her place through his eyes. She'd made the ruffled yellow-and-blue plaid curtains at the windows on her neighbor's sewing machine. The slipcover on the sofa matched. Red throw pillows on the couch were the same material as the covering on her platform rocker. Purple, yellow and white snapdragons from the back yard stood in a mason jar on the pine table by the side of the chair while photos of Corey and Jared peered out from discount store frames on a small set of bookshelves. Framed finger paintings they'd obviously created hung behind the sofa. She loved the coziness of her living room, but as Tate Pardell scanned it, she realized he probably thought it looked too quaint for words. 

  Suddenly something occurred to her and she spun around to face him. "Would you even have room for me and three kids?" 

  He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn't want to say if he would or if he wouldn't. But then he answered her. "There'd be room. The house has quarters for a maid or housekeeper--two bedrooms, a sitting room and a full bath. You'd have to use the main kitchen, but otherwise, it's about as much room as you have here." 

  She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. "Your house must be huge!" 

  He gave a short laugh. "That's one of the terms Dorothy used." 

  "Do you have a lot of family?" 

  "I didn't build the house for family," he answered tersely and left it at that. 

  Maybe he'd built it as a status symbol. Maybe it wasn't as big as she was imagining. 

  Laughter and chatter was coming from the kitchen, and she motioned toward it. "As you can hear, everyone's in there." Taking a deep breath, Anita decided she might as well get this over with. If he didn't like little boys, they were sunk, because Corey and Jared were both all-boy. 

  As soon as Anita stepped into the kitchen, she could have groaned. Of all days for the boys to be finger painting with chocolate pudding. 

  Over at the sink, Inez Jamison was washing dishes in soapy water. She was almost sixty and wore her gray hair in a thick braid that dangled between her shoulder blades. She was plump, and as she turned, her round face wore a smile. When she spied Tate, the smile faded, as her brown eyes sped to Anita for an explanation. 

  Corey and Jared, oblivious to the adults, were happily smearing pudding on each other's papers. They had the dessert in their red hair and in between freckles on their faces. It looked as if they'd been eating more of it than painting with it. They were loud and laughing, and she was afraid she'd already lost the housekeeping position. 

  "Boys," she called clearly in a firm tone above the ruckus. 

  After sloshing his pudding covered hand over Jared's paper, Corey looked up at her. 

  Jared elbowed his brother, giggled and then gave his mother his attention. "Hey, Mom, you're home. Look what we're doin'." 

  In spite of herself and the situation, Anita had to smile. Going over to her boys, she found a spot on each of their cheeks that wasn't sticky and kissed them. 

  As they'd been doing lately, they both shied away. 

  "Aw, mom," Jared complained, "don't get smooshy." 

  When she heard a chuckle come from Tate, she thought that might be a good sign. "I'm going to be smooshy until you're eighteen, then I'll think about not being smooshy. I want you to meet somebody." 

  Now both boys stared at Tate. 

  "Mr. Pardell, these are my sons, Corey and Jared." She laid a hand on each of their heads as she said their names. "And this is Inez Jamison. She's my neighbor and good friend." 

  Tate tipped his Stetson. "It's good to meet you all." 

  "And just who are you?" Inez asked, drying her hands on a towel. Inez was always point-blank forward and said what she thought. 

  Tate took off his Stetson and held it in one hand. "I run a construction company." 

  "You're thinking about constructing something here?" Inez asked, eyebrows raised. 

  At that, Tate chuckled again. "Not exactly. I'm interviewing Mrs. Sutton for a job. 

  "Corey, Jared," Anita said again, taking their attention from smearing goop on each other. "Why don't you go wash up?" 

  "Aw, Mom." The wail came from Jared. 

  "If you wash up now without complaining, I might let you go outside and play baseball." 

  "Beat you to the bathroom," Corey said to his brother, and like lightning, was off the chair and down the hall. Jared ran after him. 

  "They sure can move fast when there's something they want to do," Inez commented, looking after them. "I'd better make sure you don't end up with pudding on your shower curtain. Did you get the job?" Inez whispered to Anita. 

  With a quick glance at Tate, Anita said in an aside, "Not yet. He wanted to meet the kids." 

  "They're a little rowdy at times, but they're good boys," Inez told Tate. "And you won't find a better mother anywhere. Marie's a little angel, and if you can't appreciate that--" 

  Gently, Anita draped her arm around Inez's shoulders. "I can handle it from here. Marie's napping?" 

  "Been down about an hour. She'll be waking up soon. It might take a little while to wash up the boys. I think they both got pudding on their shirts. I'll find them clean ones." 

  After Inez left the kitchen, Anita looked around at the small space that appeared as if a tornado had hit it. The Formica table, as well as the construction paper, was smeared with chocolate pudding. Finished paintings lay drying on the counter while an overturned dump truck blocked the back door. One of the boy's baseball caps had fallen from its peg on the wall. 

  Suddenly, Jared was back in the kitchen, still sticky. 

  "You're not washed up yet," Anita noted. 

  "Corey's going first. I had a question for Mr. Pardell." 

  Uh-oh. Anita never knew what was going to come out of Jared's mouth. 

  "I want to know if I can try on your hat." 

 

ORDER THIS BOOK! 
(this link opens a new browser window)

Karen Rose Smith has provided a romantic scene from TO PROTECT AND CHERISH.

 MORE Chapter Previews

Biography | Guest Book | Bookshelf
Home Page | Newsletter

 

 

 

Special Offers for Authors on book promotion and web design

Get 2 BOOKS + a mystery gift  from  eHarlequin.com

 

Do you have some old dolls in the attic? If you have an old doll that's just collecting dust, or that's stored away in a box somewhere... Author Laura Mills-Alcott and her daughter restore old dolls from the 1920s - 1940s. They are currently buying dolls for a very special project, and may be interested in buying YOUR doll(s).  To find out more click here.

AUTHORS

The Romance Club Home Page