How to Lasso a Cowboy (Large print, Paperback, Large Print ed.)

Harlan Jones set the sixth chair of the month on his front stoop, removed his cowboy hat and brushed the sweat off his brow before replacing the headgear. If he kept up like this, he'd either have to get married and have twenty kids or start giving the damned things away. Or, better yet, quit building them. If he was a smart man, he'd put the circular saw and drill away for good. Get over this stupid fantasy that he could be a woodworker.

A soft barrel-shaped body brushed against his leg. Harlan chuckled, leaned down and scratched Mortise behind the ears. The golden retriever's tail slapped happily against his rump, and he snuggled closer. Tenon, not to be left out, brought her slender golden body into the mix, and slobbered onto Harlan's hand.

"A sane man wouldn't waste time building chairs he isn't going to sell," Harlan said to the dogs. Because they never argued back.

"A sane man focuses on a job with benefits." Harlan moved away from the dogs, heading into the garage he'd converted into a woodshop, and started to put his tools away. "One that has a nice retirement package."

Mortise dropped to his haunches in the doorway and panted. Tenon bounded off after a squirrel in the yard.

Harlan exited the garage, then shut the door. Was it crazy to be talking to his dogs? Probably, but hell, it was only him and the mutts here. Had been for six weeks, ever since he'd moved from Dallas to this tiny rental house in Edgerton Shores, Florida. The small town was quiet, peaceful. And gave a man too much time to think. "If there's one thing I learned from my father, it's that hobbies don't pay," he said to Mortise.

He had a job. A job he wasn't always fond of, granted, but it was a job he was good at. A job he also needed to keep because a hell of a lot of people were depending on him. Harlan Jones was nothing if not a dependable, hard worker, one who took care of those he loved.

His gaze w