She stood there, staring into those eyes. He didn’t back down. Finally she looked away.
“Fair enough,” she said. “I’m here because the taxes are due on my parents’…that is, on my ranch and I don’t have the money.”
“And you want to keep the property.”
She shook her head. Hard. No, she hated that ranch. Just being there these past few days had brought back bitter memories. “I want to sell the ranch, but I have to pay the taxes before I can do that.” Did the desperation show in her voice? Did she have any pride left at all?
Not much. She’d lost her pride along with her son, her husband and her career in a car crash two years ago, but she wasn’t sharing any of that with this man.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this. You have the right to ask me why I want the job. The answer is the same one many other people would give. I need work. I know ranching.”
“You hate it. That fact still stands.”
She wouldn’t deny it. Ranching had ruled her father’s world. It hadn’t been good to her.
“I know how to do the work.”
He looked doubtful. He looked as if she could tell him that she’d won the Ranch Hand of the Year award and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to him.
“Why not take a job in town?”
Ivy took a deep breath. Should she tell him that she’d been turned away without an interview for every job the town had to offer? That snide smiles had accompanied the “Sorry, but no” responses she’d received?
No. Those were Noah’s neighbors and friends.
“That’s not an option, either,” she said. And, in truth, those had been jobs that were outside her skill set anyway. This one wasn’t.
He was slowly shaking his head. “You seem to have ruled out a lot of options, lady. But working here…it’s just not possible.”
“I’ll work hard,” she promised.
“I never said you wouldn’t.”
“So hire me. I heard that you needed someone.”
“I need a big someone.”
“I’m big.”
For a minute she almost thought he was going to smile. He rubbed one hand over his jaw as if to hide his amusement. “You’re tall. I need someone beefy.”
“I’ll eat more.”
Now he did smile. Just a little. “Ivy…”
“I can do this, Noah.”
He shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Ivy, but you’ll find something else. Something will open up in town. I need a man.”
Now she visibly bristled. “That’s discrimination. It’s illegal.”
“So sue me.”
As if he knew that she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. There just wasn’t time, even if she had the money for a lawyer. And if she had money, she would have already paid the taxes and left town.
“Aren’t you even going to invite me in? Can’t we talk about this? You could give me…I know…you could give me a test. Let me do some chores just to show you—”
“No,” he said stopping her. “I’m sorry, Ivy. It’s not happening. Goodbye.”
With that, he stepped back and shut the door right in her face.
Ivy stood there for a few minutes. Anger, red and hot and simmering, bubbled inside her. Then she turned and walked away. And kept walking until she was out of sight of the house.
Forget it. It’s over, she thought. What was she going to do?
She stopped and looked out over the land, at the barns and outbuildings, the machinery and fences. She could almost hear her father saying, “The land will never let you down.” Maybe not, but it had stolen her life. His obsession with ranching had cost her a childhood, a father and her mother’s life.
Still, standing there gazing at Noah’s ranch, one much larger and more successful than her city-bred father’s had been, she remembered helping pull a calf, feeding cattle in winter. She still knew how to do these things. And doing them would pay her way out of Tallula again. If she could just make it happen.
Turning toward the house again, she remembered Noah’s last words. It’s not happening.
“Maybe not, Noah,” she whispered. “But it won’t be for lack of trying. You haven’t seen the last of me.”
Noah stared out the window, watching Ivy’s retreating back and feeling like the biggest jerk on earth. She walked away tall and proud, but he’d seen the stark disappointment in her eyes before she’d gone.
Not that that changed anything. He’d lived on this ranch all his life. It had been his since his father’s death five years ago, and he had hired and fired a number of people during that time. Ballenger Ranch was what he would leave to his little girl when he was gone, and two-and-a-half-year-old Lily was the most important part of his world. He couldn’t gamble with the ranch. He needed good, solid people working here.
Not someone who would hate the lifestyle and fly away at a moment’s notice, leaving him in the lurch. He needed someone committed to ranching, and he knew all too well about people who weren’t cut out for this life. He had a child with an absentee mother who was living proof of that.
It was his duty to protect his child from more cut-and-run people. So, much as he felt bad for Ivy’s financial difficulties, much as he admired her for having the guts to ask him for this job again once he’d turned her down, he still couldn’t deny that she didn’t belong here.
While they’d been talking, he had been assessing. She was thin, almost fragile looking. Whether it was because of years of enforced model thinness or something else, he didn’t know.
What he knew was that fragile didn’t play well on a ranch.
“You could give me a test,” she’d said, with those big blue-violet eyes practically snapping. Modeling wasn’t an option anymore, she’d said. She’d reached up as if to touch her face, and he’d seen that her small nose bore a crease; her lips looked as if a part of them had been erased at one edge. He didn’t know where she’d gotten those scars, but the scars didn’t seem to matter to his body. Everything male in him had made him want to look closer.
And that, above all, let him know that she didn’t belong here. She wasn’t built for this life, and he couldn’t survive mucking things up with a woman again. His soul just couldn’t handle that kind of damage anymore. But more important than that, there was Lily to consider.
His daughter and the ranch were his world now. Forever. Both of them came before any needs or desires of his. Anyone who came here had to pass his Lily test. They couldn’t negatively impact his world. So no, he couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by a pair of pretty, blue-violet eyes or long legs or sun-kissed blond hair.
But he hoped that Ivy found some sort of work soon. He hoped she made enough money quickly. Then she’d be gone, and that would be a good thing, because he didn’t trust himself to run into her in town and not appear interested.
That night after dinner he took Lily from Marta, his housekeeper babysitter, and went onto the porch to watch the sun going down. Brody, his foreman, was walking toward the house.
“I just got back from an errand in town. Word on the street is that Ivy Seacrest applied here today as a ranch hand,” Brody said. The man’s interest looked to be more than casual, and Noah remembered that Brody and Ivy were somewhere near the same age.
“Forget it, Brody. I’m not hiring Ivy so that you’ll have something prettier to look at than cows or the other hands. She’s not coming back.”
And Noah continued to think that right up until the moment he walked into his barn the next morning and found Ivy pitching hay into one of the horse stalls.
“Good morning, Noah,” she said.
Ivy’s hair was a color that defied description. Strands of honey were mixed with palest tan and pure blond, making a man want to look closer and let the strands slip between his fingertips. Her eyes were eager, her smile bright. Noah felt as if he’d been punched in the chest, so aware of the woman was he. He wasn’t even going to allow himself to let his gaze drop to the way her pale
blue shirt and denim jeans fit her curves. The fact that he was noticing any of this at all was bad news.
“Good morning, Ivy,” he said. “Now, if I could just have my pitchfork back, I’ll point you toward the door. I meant what I said yesterday.”
Her smile froze. Her shoulders slumped just a trace before she caught herself.
“It was worth a try,” she said. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
Too late, he thought. She was already bothering him. He was already thinking about her and worrying about her. It was a sickness, this fear that he would make another misstep with a woman.
Which didn’t change a darned thing. “Not a problem,” he said. “I admire your tenacity. I wish you luck.”
She handed him the pitchfork, and even through the rough gloves she wore he was aware of her slender hands, those long fingers.
“You could have let her try,” Brody said, coming up behind him once Ivy had gone.
With a swift turn of his body, Noah faced Brody. “I did that once. I let Pamala try to play at being a rancher’s wife. And where is she now? She’s in California, playing at her new role of wannabe actress. She didn’t even care enough about Lily to say goodbye. What am I going to tell my child when she wants to know why her mother never comes to see her? You think I want to expose her to more of that when Ivy is cut from the same cloth as Pamala was?”
Brody’s face paled, but he didn’t drop his gaze.
“You can’t live your life letting your mistake with Pamala color everything you do.”
Of course, Pamala had not been his first or only mistake with a woman, but that was none of Brody’s business.
“Watch me,” Noah said. “Ivy’s not working here. I’ll get the women in town to put some basic supplies together so that she’s fed and clothed. But I am not giving her a job. And that’s final.”
No matter what she did or said, she was never going to be a part of Ballenger Ranch.
CHAPTER TWO
SHE HAD TOLD NOAH that she wouldn’t bother him anymore, so why was she out here repairing a section of fence?
Ivy wrestled with her conscience. She acknowledged that simply trying to stay out of the man’s way while still attempting to impress him with her ability to do the job was pushing the limits. But what could she do? She needed money to survive. If she could earn enough money to pay the taxes, she could sell the ranch. Then she could hide for a long time. No facing reporters wanting to ask her how losing Bo and Alden and her famous face had changed her life. It had been two years, but just as soon as she thought everyone had forgotten about her, some new model would shoot to the forefront and the reporters would seek her out again for a “whatever happened to” segment, and she just couldn’t do that.
She’d enjoyed modeling and her looks had brought her honest work, but how she felt about the loss of those looks was…complicated. Her scars were a reminder of a life she had loved and lost, but even more than that, they were a reminder of her failure to save her baby, and she never hid them with makeup. She had lived while Bo died. She couldn’t forgive herself for that, but she wouldn’t discuss it, either. No. She needed anonymity and enough money to allow her to disappear.
So, yes, she felt guilty about her impulsive comment to Noah, but she couldn’t give up. Taking her pliers in her gloved hand, she snipped the wire and pounded the staple home, snugging up the wire.
“Nice job, but it won’t work, Ivy. Most of my fences are in good repair.”
She whirled, and there he was. “How did you sneak up on me like that?”
“Applesauce knows how to be quiet.” He patted the big black gelding.
“Applesauce? He looks more like a Thunder or Killer.”
Noah almost smiled. “My daughter named him.”
Daughter. Child. He had one. Hers was gone. The familiar arrow of pain bit deep, but she was ready. She’d heard that he had a child, so she was able to keep from crumbling. This time.
“She’s a little young to be naming horses, isn’t she?”
“Lily’s almost three, but she loves horses and she also loves—”
“Applesauce,” they said at the same time.
Ivy let that sink in. A man who would risk being ribbed by other men for riding a horse with a silly name in order to make a child happy seemed more human than she wanted to acknowledge.
“The horse is irrelevant, though,” he said. “I’m not hiring you, Ivy. You’re wasting your time and mine.”
Okay, no matter that she was touched by his regard for his daughter, Noah was never going to be on her list of favorite men. If she had such a list, that is.
“You haven’t even given me a chance.”
“I don’t have to. I own the ranch and I call the shots.”
Desperation began to crawl through her bloodstream as she felt her last chance slipping away. “So you’ll hire a man with inferior skills just so you won’t have to hire a woman.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“The fact that you won’t even test my skills implies as much.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to hire an insubordinate employee.”
“I wouldn’t be insubordinate.”
He chuckled. “Ivy, you’re arguing with me. Isn’t that the definition of being insubordinate?”
She frowned. “I know how to follow directions and be submissive.” Unfortunately she knew that all too well. And the word submissive…maybe that hadn’t been the best choice. He was looking at her as if she’d said something sexual. Then he swore.
“I’m sorry. You obviously have your reasons for pursuing this, but I have my reasons for saying no. It’s not happening, Ivy.”
She opened her mouth.
He groaned. “Give up, Ivy.”
Something inside her cried out at the injustice, but she knew when she was beaten. She’d traveled this “no way to win” path before. In this very town. On the ranch she’d grown up on.
Pocketing her pliers, she turned to walk away.
“You don’t have to walk. I’ll arrange for you to ride.”
She stopped, tipped her head back as she pivoted and stared up at him. “No. You have only one thing I want and that’s all I’ll accept from you.” A ride was a pity gesture. She had what it took to do this job, even if Noah couldn’t see it. Walking home was nothing. Deciding where she went with her life from here? That was the difficult part.
Still, she wouldn’t let him see her fear. A frightened woman wouldn’t change his mind. Ivy squared her shoulders and marched away. She and Noah were done, unless…
Stop it, she told herself. There won’t be any unless. He’s made that clear.
But then, she’d always had a stubborn, rebellious streak. Sometimes a good dose of stubborn was all a person had to see them through the day.
“What’s that you’re eating, pumpkin?” Noah asked his daughter.
Lily held out one chubby little hand, in which she clutched a mangled piece of toast with jam. She looked up at him with her huge blue eyes and smiled. “Cook-ie,” she said with a little laugh.
Noah wiggled his eyebrows. “That looks like toast to me.”
Lily giggled. “Cook-ie,” she insisted.
“Marta, are you giving our girl cookies for breakfast?” he asked incredulously.
Marta gave a dramatic sigh. “She insisted.”
Noah shook his head. He pointed to the toast. “No cookies for breakfast, Lily.”
“Cookie,” she said with another laugh, her blond curls swaying as her little body rocked with delight at this strange little routine she and her daddy had somehow fallen into.
Noah did his best to look stern. “Okay, hand over the cookie, Lilykins.”
And here came the good part, the part she loved. “No. Toast,” she said with great relish and popped a piece into her mouth.
“Ah, you are a clever one, sweetheart,” he told her. “And a stubborn one. You know how to get your way when you want to.”
He was still thinking
about that when he wandered outside to work. In her own way, Ivy reminded him of Lily. Stubborn and determined and proud and hard to resist.
Noah stopped in his tracks. That was a road he didn’t want to travel. Ivy had no business invading his thoughts. That was how all bad things with women started—when you let ones you had nothing in common with start creeping into your thoughts uninvited. Next thing you knew you were in high water, unable to get back to shore or swim against the strength of the current, and they were leaving you. Or even worse, they were leaving Lily. Hurting her. Without so much as a drop of remorse. Noah growled.
“Bad night?” Brody asked, coming up beside him in the barn.
“You sound hopeful.”
Brody laughed. “Not at all, but if you did have a bad night, your day isn’t going to be any better. Ed broke his leg last night and he’s out of commission. Now we’re down two hands instead of just one.”
Noah’s growl turned into a blue streak of cussing.
“Is that any way for a daddy to talk?”
“No, but Lily’s inside, and I have good reason to swear. I recognize that look in your eyes.”
“What look is that?”
“It’s the ‘I’m holding a good hand’ look. You’ve wiped the floor with me at poker that way before, so let’s not play games. Say what you’ve got to say.”
“Okay, I will. The thing is…Ivy isn’t just nice to look at. She’s a determined worker. I saw her wade in and rescue a calf yesterday that had gotten caught in some muck.”
“She did what? And you didn’t tell me?”
“No point in telling you when you weren’t listening.”
“She was going. She wasn’t coming back.” But in Noah’s mind he heard Lily holding a piece of toast and telling him that it was a cookie while she laughed at her own joke. Ivy might have left and intimated that she wasn’t coming back, but she obviously had a stubborn streak as wide as his daughter’s.
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