by Marin Thomas
“Seth is my son, not yours. I determine what’s best for him.”
Her voice shook with distress. He closed the distance between them. Having to touch her, but understanding his touch was the last thing she wanted right now, he settled for straightening the straps of her overalls, allowing his fingers to glide over the gentle ridge of her collarbones. “Maybe Seth doesn’t care to be a farm kid. Have you asked him?”
Her heartfelt sigh was answer enough. Seth had mentioned his unhappiness to his mother. Empathy, an emotion Nelson rarely experienced, tugged at his chest.
“It’s only a matter of time before Seth rebels and chooses his own path in life.”
“Speaking from experience?” Her probing stare unsettled him.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he insisted, “Myself, no. My younger brother, yes.”
“What about your younger brother?” She offered her undivided attention.
Nelson wasn’t proud of failing his younger sibling. “I ignored the signs of Aaron’s discontent with his role in the family business. Instead of figuring out a way to help, I ignored him, assuming he’d adjust and settle down.”
“Did he?”
“No.” Nelson tweaked Ellen’s pigtail. “Aaron promoted someone else to handle his duties, then created a job that better suited him.”
“Wow. That must have taken courage.”
“I admit I was impressed when I’d learned my baby brother had created a community revitalization division within our company.” He grinned. “Without my knowledge.”
“He sounds like a visionary,” Ellen said with an unmistakable note of respect in her voice.
A stab of jealousy grabbed Nelson by surprise. What would he have to do to earn Ellen’s admiration? “Aaron has definitely come into his own. He’s engaged to be married soon and he and his fiancée are already expecting their first child.”
“I’m beginning to understand—” she placed the empty cola can on the edge of the washtub “—the reason your grandfather sent you here.”
Nelson cocked an eyebrow.
“The life lesson he wants you to learn…” She waved a hand in front of his face, almost whacking him in the nose. “It’s more than learning to let others lead.”
His eyebrow dropped back in place. “What do you mean?”
“Your grandfather was being polite when he used the word acquiescence.” She poked a finger in his chest. “You’re a know-it-all without a clue—the worst kind in my opinion.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she slipped around him. “And you have a nasty habit of bossing people around.”
He shrugged. “In the end, I’m always right.”
“Not this time. My farm isn’t a corporation. Your Wall Street business strategies won’t work here. If you can’t respect that, then pack your bags and scoot on back to your high-rise office.”
Ouch.
Even though Nelson admired the pride that lent Ellen strength and determination, he suspected her greatest strength was her greatest weakness. If she refused to put aside her smugness, she risked losing everything—the farm, the house, the livestock. Then what would she and Seth do? Where would they live? “You want me to back off?”
“Bingo. If I make a mistake, then I have to live with the consequences.”
He was an ass. Since the day he’d arrived he’d stuck his nose—make that his whole face—into Ellen Tanner’s business. If she’d been the first person he’d steamrolled, he could have chalked it up to an innocent mistake. But for years now he’d treated others the way a military officer treated soldiers in boot camp—with no respect.
Acknowledging his fault only made the ache in his gut worse. Would he be closer to his brothers today if he’d shown more appreciation for their business input? If he hadn’t been so quick to point out their short-comings or mistakes? Had his know-it-all attitude lost him his grandfather’s respect—the one man he’d strived to impress all his life?
“I’m sorry, Ellen. I was out of line.” Way out of bounds.
“Apology accepted. Now, if you’re through pestering me, I need to check on Bones.”
Typical woman—changing the subject. “Bones?”
“My bull, which by the way isn’t half as stubborn as you.”
“I bet Bones isn’t half as good-looking as me, either.”
“I THOUGHT HORSES were used to round up cattle.” Nelson rested his hand against her lower back, guiding her around a large pothole in the gravel drive.
Nelson McKade was a true gentleman. If Ellen wasn’t careful, she could get used to his simple courtesies. Shoot, Buck had never even held the door open for her. “This isn’t the Wild West, cowboy. It’s Illinois. ATVs in the summer, snowmobiles in the winter.”
“Do you have an extra helmet?”
“You’ll have to use Seth’s.” She opened the shed doors and removed a black helmet from a peg on the wall. She expected him to ask if she knew how to drive the ATV. To her surprise, he didn’t. She backed the vehicle out and Nelson shut the shed doors.
He slid a leg over the seat, shifted one way, then the other, each movement causing her stomach to dip and quiver. Finally he stopped squirming and clamped his muscular thighs around hers, leaving no space between his thing and her fanny.
His warm breath caressed the side of her face as he leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back. “I’m ready.”
“Hang on.” She revved the motor, then shifted into gear. The machine sputtered once before jolting forward. Nelson’s arms tightened like steel bands around her midsection, almost knocking the wind out of her.
“You sure you can drive this thing?” he hollered as she headed up the slight incline behind the holding barn and across a flat pasture dotted with an occasional oak and a broken line of hundred-year-old Douglas firs.
The farm had shrunk over the years. Past generations had sold off acreage to pay taxes and survive two world wars and the depression. The eighty acres left were plenty for running her small dairy farm. Billy Joe was nuts if he believed she could make a living off a corn crop on so few acres.
At the last second, she veered west, deciding to take the long way to the pasture where Bones roamed. For a little longer she wanted to enjoy the hot wind stinging her face, the sun shining in a near-cloudless sky, the heat from Nelson’s body rubbing hers.
When a pond came into view, she slowed the ATV, then stopped near the water’s edge. She removed her helmet, shielded her eyes from the bright sun and scanned the horizon. No sign of the bull. “The stubborn cuss wandered off his home turf.”
Nelson slid off the seat. “Is that a problem?” He removed his helmet and hung it by the strap over the handlebar. He looked sexy in his stiff new jeans and straight-from-the-package Hanes T-shirt. Had it only been a few weeks ago that he’d walked into Flo’s Diner wearing pressed slacks and a golf shirt?
“Bones never travels far from the pond. Most likely he heard the ATV and will meander back here in his own sweet time. Might as well soak our feet while we wait.”
She didn’t expect Nelson to join her. He wasn’t a soak-your-feet-in-a-muddy-pond kind of man. So when he unlaced his boots, stuffed his socks inside, then dunked his feet into the cool water, she giggled.
He leaned back on his elbows, closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. “What’s so funny?”
“You don’t seem like the nature type.” She swallowed a sigh of pure feminine appreciation as she admired his chiseled profile, his hawkish nose with the bump in the middle, his long dark lashes and dark helmet hair. Before she did something stupid like throw herself at him, she plucked a blade of sweet green grass and nibbled the end.
“This is the first time I’ve dipped my toes in pond scum.” He opened one eye and stared. “Amazing what a guy will do for a pretty girl.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”
“Ever been to the ocean, Ellen?” He folded his arms behind his head.
“I’ve never gone in the oc
ean. But I saw it once from the highway when my mom and I drove to California for her sister’s funeral.”
“My youngest brother, Aaron, lives in California. He has a fishing boat we take out when I visit on business.”
“Let me guess. Your grandfather sent Aaron off to learn a life lesson, too?”
“Yep.”
Not caring if she appeared nosy, she asked, “What lesson was that?”
“Responsibility.”
Something she’d learned at a very young age when she’d discovered she was pregnant. “What did he have to do?”
“He worked on a construction crew for a nonprofit organization that builds homes for the needy.”
“Sounds rewarding. Was he like you?”
“What do you mean, like me?”
Fluttering her eyelashes innocently, she teased, “Was he as inexperienced in construction as you are in dairy farming?”
Nelson grinned unabashedly. “Yep.”
“I’d like to meet this grandfather of yours. He sounds like a wily old coot.”
“I don’t believe he’s ever been called a coot before.”
“You mentioned your brother was engaged to his boss.” Ellen’s mind played with the idea of her and Nelson…No. Never. She wasn’t the kind of woman a man dreamed of happily-ever-after with. “Have you ever been married?”
“Nope.”
Rolling on to her side, she rested her chin on her palm. “Did you ever come close to marrying?”
“Once,” he answered. “But she got cold feet six months before the big day and returned the ring.”
Ellen couldn’t understand any woman not wishing to marry Nelson. Except for his domineering, stubborn, macho attitude, he was perfect husband material. “What happened?”
He turned his head. “She figured out I was more in love with my job than her.”
“Was she right?” Ellen wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. She’d never been Buck’s top priority while he’d been alive.
After a long pause, he confessed in a low voice, “Yeah, she was.”
At least he was honest. She should be grateful she knew where she stood—not that she’d even been in line. After Buck had died she’d made herself promise she’d never settle for taking the backseat in a relationship. But right now, hypnotized by Nelson’s dreamy brown eyes, she wasn’t so sure she could keep that promise if he offered her less than what she deserved. “Do you work long hours?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you have to work long hours or do you choose to?”
“Choose to.”
The man took honesty to a whole new level. “What does your grandfather think about your workaholic tendencies?”
“He believes I’m obsessive.” Nelson sat up, pulled his feet from the water and draped his arms over his knees. “He celebrated ninety-one this past May.”
“You’re fortunate to still have him.”
“I agree. Sometimes we don’t see eye to eye, but he’s always been there. I can’t imagine life without the old—” he grinned “—coot around.” After a long pause, Nelson spoke. “Can I ask you something, Ellen?”
“Sure.”
“Does your deceased husband have anything to do with you refusing to sell the farm?”
“No, Buck wasn’t attached to the farm.” Or her for that matter.
“If you had a reason to start over someplace new, would you?”
“Maybe.” If you were the reason.
“Bull,” he protested, scrambling to his feet.
Bull? Ellen stared in the direction of his pointing finger.
Oh, bull. Bones had arrived.
The mangy animal had impeccable timing.
Chapter Eight
If you had a reason to start over someplace new, would you?
Too much fresh air. That was the only explanation Nelson could come up with for the idiotic question he’d asked Ellen a few moments ago. Now she’d assume he was romantically interested in her. He wasn’t. Was he?
He studied her out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard. She was such a contradiction from the women who usually made his head turn. And he wasn’t referring to her short height, blond pigtails or makeupless face, all of which he wholeheartedly approved of. What really attracted him to Ellen was the idea that she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him. For some reason that turned him on. Yet at the same time, it made him nervous. Nervous because she threatened his control. Forced him to question what he’d always thought he’d wanted from life. What he’d believed was important. Each time he gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, he felt himself slip. Struggle to recall why he’d allowed his career to supersede his own happiness. But his career and happiness went hand in hand. Or maybe not.
“Stay here. I’m going to examine Bones.” Ellen struggled to shove her wet toes inside her socks.
He’d have to contemplate the definition of happiness later. Right now Ellen’s safety was his main concern. “Shouldn’t you put an animal that size in a cage before you go near it?” The bull could do serious damage to Fanny Farmer’s petite body.
“Bones is pretty docile,” she assured him, stuffing her sock feet inside the work boots. “As long as I don’t make any sudden moves, he’ll let me touch him.”
“Maybe I should—” He stopped short at her scowl.
“Which one of us has more experience in this situation—me, Farmer Ellen, or you, Executive Nelson?”
“Are all country girls full of this much sass?”
Her scowl curved into a smile. “Best you stay out of my line of fire, McKade.”
His first impulse was to ignore Ellen’s directive. He put on his shoes, stood, took one step, then froze when his grandfather’s words echoed through his head—Nelson, you’ve become too adept at bulldozing people. The idea that his grandfather, and maybe others, associated his leadership style with bulldozing caused an odd mixture of humiliation and hurt to congeal in his stomach like a mass of rotting food. Nelson had always taken pride in believing his decisions had the company’s and his employees’ best interests at heart.
To stand aside and trust that Ellen knew what she was doing was more difficult than he anticipated. This time, his urgency to take control did not stem from hating to follow orders but from fear—fear for her safety.
Nelson rarely experienced fear. If he did, he refused to acknowledge it. That Ellen brought this emotion to the surface troubled him. How could he return to his old life with Ellen and Seth’s situation lingering in the back of his mind?
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Sores, infection, cuts, open wounds,” she answered, her voice calm and quiet as she circled the bull. “Anything that might need medical attention.”
Her head didn’t clear the animal’s back, leaving only her jean-clad legs visible beneath the belly. When she paused, his gut clenched. “What’s wrong?”
“Bones is favoring his right hind leg.”
Nelson’s gaze zeroed in on the leg in question, but he couldn’t detect an injury. He moved closer, then halted when the bull swung his head and snorted a warning. The animal’s restless movements signaled that it was time for Ellen to move away. “I don’t see anything wrong.”
“He’s not putting all his weight on it.” She moved to the massive head and Nelson exhaled a gust of air, relieved he could view her entire body. With Bones’s horns filed down to stubs, at least he didn’t have to worry about Ellen becoming a human kebab. “Call the vet.”
“The vet is a last resort.” She had her back to him as she edged along the animal’s flank, running her hands over the tough hide.
“Last resort?”
“The vet charges a hundred dollars a house call.” She paused by the bull’s rump.
A hundred dollars—pocket change. Ellen’s worry over spending such a small amount brought to light the enormous socioeconomic gap between them. The urge to close the gap was surprisingly strong—an odd feeling for a man who’d always been m
ore concerned with making money than doling it out. “I’ll pay the vet bill.”
“Thanks, but no, thanks. Would you fetch the medical bag from the compartment on the back of the ATV?”
Nelson hurried to the ATV and lifted the lid on the storage bin attached to the back of the seat. He just retrieved the pouch when, a second later, Ellen’s scream rent the air. Ice-cold terror pumped through his veins as he whipped around and discovered Ellen flat on her back, clutching her thigh.
Without a thought for his own safety, he ran at the bull, waving his arms and shouting. Bones snorted, stamped his hoof, then trotted to an evergreen several yards away. Nelson knelt at Ellen’s side, his heart banging against his ribs. “Angel, can you hear me?”
“You don’t have to shout, Nelson. I didn’t get kicked in the head.”
“Sorry.” He lowered his voice. “What happened?”
“Bones kicked my thigh when I removed a thorn by his dew claw.”
“Does your femur feel broken?”
“I don’t know. My leg is numb.”
“Where does it hurt the most?” He wrapped his fingers around her knee and pressed gently.
She batted his hand away. “Stop hovering and help me up.”
Grabbing both her arms, he hauled her to her feet, then tightened his hold when her face turned pasty white. “Don’t faint on me, Tanner.”
“I’ve never fainted in my life.”
Less than ten yards separated them from the ATV, but if she couldn’t feel her leg… “I’ll carry you.”
“No, you won’t.” She took one step and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose vanished. When her eyes rolled back, Nelson sprang forward and swooped her up into his arms. Stubborn woman.
He carried her to the ATV, checking every few steps to make sure the bull hadn’t moved from beneath the tree. Bones appeared more interested in grazing than charging. With care, Nelson straddled the machine and nestled Ellen in his lap.