Cowgirl Makes Three

by Myrna Mackenzie

  “They might be a bit short,” he told her, his fingertips brushing hers as he handed them over. A zing of male awareness ricocheted through his body at the touch. Ignore that, he ordered himself.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Here, I’ll show you the cottage. It’s been empty for a while, so I’m not too sure how things look inside.”

  They looked pretty bad. When he opened the door and saw the layer of dust and the sad and shabby furnishings, the first thought he had was that she had been a model. This would look like a hovel to her.

  “It needs work,” he said, stating the obvious.

  “I like work.”

  “Well, then, you’re going to love this place.” He stepped past her to pull open a shade, and as he did, his body brushed hers. Was that hiss of awareness coming from him or from her?

  Noah looked into her eyes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could tell that she wasn’t unaffected by him.

  Too bad. The lady’s off-limits. “I’ll just let you get to…”

  Undressing.

  “Business,” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t sound hoarse. “And I’ll get back to mine.”

  Probably best to leave Ivy to Brody’s care, he thought, heading back to the house. But something stubborn and strong inside him didn’t like that idea.

  So deal with it. He’d obviously been on the ranch too long; his reaction to her was beyond hot. But there was nothing he could do about that. He and Ivy had a deal. He would keep Lily away from her, and Ivy would leave as soon as this job ran out.

  That thought strengthened him. He’d been an idiot before, but all of that was pre-Lily. There were serious, long-term consequences to his actions now. He couldn’t afford to do anything stupid.

  Ivy Seacrest would be just another hand to him from now on. The fact that she made him break out in a cold sweat couldn’t matter.

  Three days passed, and Ivy tried to work and not pay attention to anything else going on around the ranch. She tried not to notice her aching muscles or the fact that her ranching skills were rusty. She especially tried not to remember how she had reacted to Noah in that split-second brush of his body against hers when he had moved to open the shades.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered beneath her breath. For two long years she had not had one whit of an interest in men. Life had jerked her around too much and all the bad times had boiled down to her dealings with men who had ruined her life—her father who had destroyed her mother with his blind, obsessive devotion to his ranch, and her husband, Alden, whose obsessions that blinded him to others’ feelings had destroyed everything else that had mattered to her. She would never get involved with another man who wore blinders, and it was clear that Noah did.

  That comment about Elle magazine had been funny, but it had obviously also been true. Despite his comment about gossip, he had to have been out roaming the range not to have known anything about her past, given the way the paparazzi had covered her accident.

  Or maybe he’d been mourning the loss of his wife, she thought. But even that was evidence of how much he cared about this ranch. She’d heard that his ex-wife had left because she hated the ranch. Yet Noah had stayed. He’d let her go.

  That was none of her business, but it was just impossible to dodge. The other day when she’d shown up wearing the too-short jeans, Darrell’s eyebrows had risen.

  “Noah let you wear Pamala’s pants?”

  The pants were a bit loose around the waist, but Ivy had suddenly felt as if they were too tight. She’d wondered if Noah would look at her and think of his Pamala.

  Brody had let out a low whistle. “They look way better on you, Ivy, even though they’re a bit high on your boots. But—damn!—I’m surprised those are even still around. I would have thought Noah would have burned those things. She sure burned him. She hated Ballenger Ranch like fire hates water.”

  Ever since then, Ivy had tried not to wonder about the man who’d let his wife walk while he stayed at the ranch. It wasn’t any of her business, but she was still glad she knew. It would make it easier to think of Noah not as a man but as a man she couldn’t want. Actually, it would be best not to think of him at all, but that was impossible—a truth that was driven home when she found out that the following morning she would need to ride out on a search for lost cattle. Roping would be involved. Noah would be there.

  Her courage nearly failed her. She’d never been good with a rope and hadn’t had much experience with one. Her less than stellar performance might convince Noah that he’d made a mistake hiring her. So at the end of the day she took a rope and, moving as far away from the house as she could, she practiced, using a bale of hay with a stick jammed into it. Time and again, Ivy swung the rope, but without much success. Anxiety made her clumsy. She had told Noah she would be a good hand. What would he say when she couldn’t even hit her targets?

  Biting her lip, she turned and stared off into the distance, hands on her hips. Frustration nearly paralyzed her, but standing there worrying wasn’t helping. “Stop being such a coward, Seacrest,” she muttered to herself. “Just keep trying.” She turned back to her task.

  “You’re swinging too high to the right, and the loop you’re using is too big for you.”

  Finishing her turn in a rush, Ivy stared at Noah, who was standing less than twenty feet away and moving closer.

  “How—how long have you been watching me?”

  “Long enough to see the problem.”

  To see that she couldn’t even hit an immobile stick, much less a moving animal. “I’ll practice. I’ll be better by morning.”

  He gave her a long, assessing stare and shook his head. “I’ve got a dummy steer that will work better than that stick. I’ll show you how to use it another day. Tomorrow we’ll do the run without you.”

  No, no, no, ran through her mind. He would lose respect for her. So would Brody and Darrell. A hand who couldn’t carry her weight was a liability, not a help. “I’ll make the adjustments you suggested. Noah, I know this isn’t my call, but…I want to be there tomorrow. I’ll learn. I won’t be deadweight.” She had very little left in the world. She couldn’t afford to lose this job…or her pride.

  But she could see that he didn’t believe her. And why should he? If he’d seen her repeatedly miss the target, he had to be thinking she’d be more of a hindrance than a help.

  “I’ll keep practicing tonight until I have it,” she said. And when he didn’t answer her right away… “Please,” she managed to whisper as heat flooded her face.

  Noah swore. “Why didn’t your father teach you to rope?”

  “I guess…he wasn’t very good at it himself.”

  Noah gave a terse nod. He turned and started walking.

  “Noah?”

  “Don’t move. I’ll be back,” he said.

  A few minutes later he returned with a contraption that looked like a plastic steer’s head on a metal body. “All right. Let’s do it,” he said.

  Something like relief and gratitude mixed with fear swooshed through Ivy. She concentrated hard as she twirled the rope, knowing her loop was too wobbly and uncertain.

  Noah stepped to her side. “Like this,” he said, gently grasping her hand and guiding her arm. “Keep the loop of the rope open and bring it across your body this way as you twirl it. Nice, easy motions. Steady.” But she didn’t feel at all steady. Noah was trying to help her, but the closeness of his big hard body, the warmth of his touch as his arm came around her and crossed her body, brushing against her, made it difficult to breathe or think. She looked up at him over her shoulder and for a moment the rope stopped moving as he stared back at her, their hands joined.

  “That’s the basic movement,” he said, letting her go and stepping away. “Now you try on your own.”

  She twirled the rope, awkwardly at first.

  “The back of your hand will almost touch your mouth as it comes around,” he said, d
emonstrating with his own rope. “When you release the rope here,” he said, showing her, “the momentum of your arm finishing the turn and your hand pointing this way will send the rope right over the steer’s horns.” Breaking the instructions down into simple steps, Noah finally made it make sense for Ivy as she watched him rope the dummy steer.

  “Are you ready to try again?” he asked.

  Ivy nodded, more determined than ever. For the first time she felt hopeful that she could master this skill. She might be awkward, but with Noah’s help, she understood the mechanics of the process. Twirling her loop, keeping it open, she paid attention to her hand and to the loop as she released it. It fell short, and she was disappointed, but it was close. Her earlier attempts hadn’t been. She sucked in her lip, her brow furrowing.

  “Again,” he said.

  Ivy twirled the rope again. Miss. Throw. Miss. Throw. This time it landed neatly over the horns.

  “Yes!” she said, grinning at Noah. “That’s one. It was a good one, too, wasn’t it?”

  He laughed. “It was a sweet little toss. A winner.”

  But one toss standing on the ground wouldn’t be good enough for tomorrow’s task. “Thank you,” Ivy said. “I—you can go now. I’m just going to keep practicing until I’m consistent.”

  He raised a brow. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will come early. You should rest. You know, there are plenty of cowboys who aren’t especially good ropers.”

  And those cowboys sometimes got passed over for better ones. “I’m not going to be that kind,” Ivy said. She tossed the rope again. And again. Over and over,, until she could land it most of the time. By now Noah was leaning against the fence and watching her with a lazy-cat smile on his face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Don’t your batteries ever run down?”

  “Not when I need to get something done.”

  “Well, you’re done now. Your arm’s going to be sore.”

  “But tomorrow I’ll be on a horse. I need to try it on a horse.”

  “Ivy…”

  “Noah…just a few times, so that I won’t be nervous tomorrow?”

  “One or both of us will fall off the horse asleep tomorrow if we don’t finish up here soon,” he muttered, but he led her to Binny, a sweet little palomino. “She’s gentle and patient.”

  Which was a good thing. Roping from horseback was more complicated than being on foot. Ivy didn’t really reach proficiency, but she was beginning to be afraid that Noah was right. They both had to work tomorrow, and…he had a child waiting. The thought made Ivy feel guilty. She sighed, turning in the saddle to apologize to Noah for keeping him out so late. “You are tired,” he said, misinterpreting her sigh. “That’s enough, Ivy.” With that, he reached up and plucked her from Binny’s back, sliding her to the ground. “Bed,” he said.

  She blinked. His hands were still around her waist. He was so close. She was still tingling from the contact, and the word bed hung between them.

  Noah swore, and not beneath his breath this time. He let her go. “Don’t argue with me anymore today, Ivy. Just go.” He was obviously not any happier than she was at the arc of electricity that had passed between them.

  Ivy’s breathing was still erratic. “Okay,” she said in a rush. “I’m done. Don’t worry.”

  But she worried for a long time before she fell asleep. If she were smart, she’d give Noah a wide berth from now on…even if she couldn’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt on her.

  Apparently Noah had been thinking the same thing, because the next day he worked mostly with Darrell and assigned her to Brody. The day passed and the one after that. She and Noah spoke very little other than basic greetings. Most of her orders came through Brody.

  Still, whenever she saw Noah in the distance—working, riding, lifting his daughter onto his shoulders—something about him made her stop and look.

  On the third day Ivy was gathering equipment to go help Darrell repair a windmill when she saw Noah heading toward the house. The door flew open, and Lily came tumbling out, running in that frantic, wobbly way that two-year-olds run.

  “Da!” she squealed, raising her arms, confident that her daddy would pick her up.

  “Hey, pumpkin, how’s my girl? Did you get away from Marta?” Noah scooped up the tiny child and swung her into his arms right against his chest.

  Ivy couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t stop thinking about Bo’s toddler laughter that she had never heard. And yet that wasn’t this child’s or this man’s fault.

  She stared, even though the pain cut right through her, razor sharp, leaving a trail of desolation she couldn’t control. It came upon her suddenly, tracking her down, forcing her to remember that she would never, ever get to hear Bo laugh. Never.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she swiped them away. She fought the keening wail that threatened to escape her. Then Noah began to turn.

  Ivy ran. She stumbled into the toolshed, scrubbed her face with her hands and began rummaging through the tools, blindly looking for…something. She didn’t even know what she was looking for.

  The shadow that fell over her told her that he was standing in the doorway. “Be right there,” she said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound too thick.

  “Ivy.” He knew. He’d seen.

  “I just have to get a few tools. Darrell and I are going to fix the windmill out on Jessup Flats. Darrell’s waiting.”

  “Ivy, I’m sorry.”

  She turned, pushing her chin high. “Don’t be. She’s a sweet little girl. She’s yours. The fact that I lost my son—that doesn’t mean you should apologize for having a daughter.”

  “I’m not.” He came into the room.

  No. Don’t, she thought. I’m not strong right now. I need to get my feisty back on so no one can see the cracks. Hiding the cracks was all that had gotten her through most of her life.

  “Then there’s nothing to apologize for,” she said. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m never silly.” He said the word as if he didn’t know the meaning. She had to admit that she had desperately pulled that one out of a hat, trying to change the tone in a wild stab at regaining her composure and her cool. Models didn’t show emotion unless directed to.

  But I’m not a model anymore.

  Maybe not, but she still lived by those rules. “It’s been a long time since I helped fix a windmill. Has the technology changed?” she asked, peering into the tool bin.

  “Not around here.” He reached past her, scooped up a pipe wrench and handed it to her. When both their hands were on the tool, he didn’t let go. “I thought you were away from the house, with Brody. I’m sorry for your loss, Ivy.”

  Okay, he was going to insist on being nice, on doing the polite thing. Maybe that would make it easier. All she had to do was be polite right back and he would go. She wouldn’t have to keep wishing that he would touch her. Noah—with his child when she could not be around children and with his ranch when she could not live on a ranch—was the worst man on earth for her. But…she knew how to politely talk her way out of a situation, didn’t she?

  “Thank you. I appreciate that,” she said. “It helps.”

  He uttered a curse word that she was pretty darn sure he never used around Lily. “It doesn’t help. Even a brute like me knows that, Ivy. So…has anything helped?”

  Ah, there was her out. “Work. Work helps.”

  “Then I guess I’d better let you go.” But he didn’t let go of the wrench.

  “Noah?”

  “What?”

  Her mind was a jumble. He was so close. She was so…darn, he was so close. She glanced down at their fingers, only inches away from each other. His gaze followed hers. “I don’t like this…this physical stuff messing with my job,” she said, tugging on the wrench. “So why don’t you just kiss me so we can get it over with?”

  Ivy’s suggestion shocked even her. Well, she wasn’t exactly thinking straight rig
ht now. And why not kiss the man? Everyone in town seemed to think she had come to Tallula on a mission to collect men anyway. Why not live up to their expectations, spit in their eyes the way she always had? Her city-bred parents had been snooty to the people of Tallula, and Ivy had always been an outsider, long before she’d left and become an actual outsider. She’d learned to tough it out, act the part. Slipping back into that persona would probably be easy enough.

  “Or better yet, I’ll kiss you,” she said. She rose on her toes, grasped Noah’s shirt and planted one quick kiss on his lips. Simple. Easy. No. Not either of those. At all. Noah’s lips were warm; his masculine scent surrounded her; his big body made her want to curl closer.

  Panic ensued, and Ivy rushed toward the door before she could do something stupid…like let Noah see how that kiss had affected her. “Now,” she said as nonchalantly as she could, “we’ve got that behind us, so we can totally forget this ever happened and get on with our lives. And don’t ever apologize to me again for loving your daughter.”

  She fled, her lips burning, her cheeks on fire. And, she soon realized, she had left without a single tool. What on earth would she tell Darrell?

  She didn’t know…or care. She had kissed Noah Ballenger. Was she totally insane?

  “Yes,” she whispered. “But at least he isn’t pitying me right now.”

  He was probably getting ready to fire her butt.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NOAH FELT LIKE a restless lion who’d been prowling solo for months and had just realized that there was a female in the vicinity.

  Ivy would probably hate that comparison. That rigid backbone, determined chin and all that sass were hard evidence that she had a boatload of pride. And she was doing her damnedest to hang on to it. She liked to play tough, to keep people off guard so that they couldn’t see the pain she was carrying. Even someone like him who was a heck of a lot better with horses than with women could see that. That was why she’d kissed him, wasn’t it? To distract him from feeling sorry for her.