Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: A Ranch for His FamilyCowgirl in High HeelsA Man to Believe In

by Hope Navarre

  Craziness.

  Once she’d put a good foot and a half of space between them, Ellie met Ryan’s eyes, trying to read him, but the analytical part of her brain was frozen. Useless. She started to speak, even though she had no idea what she was going to say, but he touched his fingertips to her lips, silencing her.

  Again their eyes held and Ellie knew she had to escape. If he kissed her like that, knowing she was pregnant—

  “It won’t happen again,” Ryan said softly.

  Ellie nodded before she silently turned and walked into the house, closing the door after her. She could still taste him.

  After turning the lock, she stood at the window, watching Ryan cross the distance to his own house. He’d barely shut the door when a calf walked across the flagstones in front of her and disappeared into the darkness.

  Damned calves.

  Ellie headed toward the bathroom then for her second shower in less than six hours, mud crumbling off her sweatshirt as she pulled it over her head. And for once she wasn’t going to think. She was going to do her damnedest to get some sleep. She had a feeling that tomorrow she was going to need some strength.

  * * *

  HE WAS HOT for a pregnant woman. Ryan didn’t know what to make of that...or of the fact that Ellie was pregnant and hiding out at the ranch. It wasn’t his business, but he couldn’t seem to shake the question that kept shooting into his head.

  Where was the father?

  Had he abandoned Ellie? Had she abandoned him? Had it been a one-night stand?

  It disturbed him that he had so many questions about her private affairs, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the connection to his own life. Kind of a sore spot with him, fathers not taking responsibility for their kids.

  He’d finally fallen asleep well after midnight, only to be woken by Walt hammering on his door very early in the morning with the news that the calves were out.

  “Are you sure she wasn’t the one who didn’t latch the gate?” Walt asked twenty minutes later after Clive and Betsy had rounded up the calves and put them back in the pen with a minimum of fuss.

  “I’m the one,” Ryan said. He remembered shoving it shut while he and Ellie had been having it out and not double-checking to see if it latched.

  “Rookie move.”

  “Yeah.” The lawn and the gardens, such as they were, were a mess and there’d be hell to pay if they weren’t back into shape by the time the Bradworths came. Walt got on his four-wheeler, Clive and Betsy jumped on the back and the three of them drove away down the muddy drive, leaving Ryan to start his day’s work—loading mineral to leave out in the pastures.

  He’d just closed the tailgate when his phone rang. The Billings number. He frowned as he answered and found himself talking to an associate who made it clear that his only function was to schedule an appointment. Would next Tuesday at 11:00 a.m. work for Mr. Madison?

  Mr. Madison assured the man that it would and was then informed that they would meet in a conference room in the tiny Glennan city hall building.

  Ryan hung up and leaned back against the truck, studying the ground at his feet. It appeared he was about to meet his own fatherhood issues dead-on.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Ellie woke up to find Ryan in her backyard, surveying calf damage. Figuring she had to face him sometime, she pulled on her robe, ignored the fact that she had bed head and let herself out the back door. The flower beds were pretty much denuded and the calves had generously fertilized the lawn, as well as the graveled areas leading around the house.

  She wrapped her robe closer around herself as she studied the mayhem, feeling Ryan watching her and also feeling utterly self-conscious. Was that because of the kiss? Or him knowing she was pregnant?

  “I’ll make this right,” he said, but she had a strong feeling that making the gardens right wasn’t the foremost thing on his mind.

  “Actually, I’d like to do it,” Ellie said, glad to have something superficial to talk about. He looked so good standing there in his worn jeans and faded black T-shirt, and last night he’d felt so good. Facts she couldn’t deny, but had to deal with realistically.

  Ryan looked around. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Besides, if I hadn’t been arguing with you, maybe you would have latched the gate.”

  “I doubt it,” he said straight-faced. “I suck at gates.”

  A smile fought its way out. “Regardless, I’ll handle the backyard.”

  “Let me know if you need help.”

  His gaze drifted down toward her abdomen, and Ellie answered his unspoken question. “Two and half months.”

  He flushed. “I wasn’t...” He closed his mouth and shook his head. “Sorry.” His voice was low, sincere. Sexy.

  “No apology necessary.” She glanced at the house, knowing she needed to get away from him, regroup. “I, uh, left the teakettle on.”

  “And I left the tractor running.”

  She could hear it running in the distance. He, at least, hadn’t lied about his excuse to escape as she had. Ellie smiled a little before turning and retreating to the safety of the house.

  The guy still made her palms sweat.

  * * *

  HE SHOULDN’T HAVE kissed her last night. The woman was dealing with issues, and judging from her skittish behavior this morning, he’d added to them. That hadn’t been his intention. What he’d thought would be a comforting I’ll-be-your-friend kiss had exploded into something intense within seconds of their lips meeting. So intense he felt himself growing hard at the memory, which pissed him off.

  He crossed the yard to the idling tractor and climbed into the seat, raising the bucket before putting it in gear. He wanted to get the barn and corrals mucked out before his next rodeo and he had to get to the feed store to pick up the grain delivery. Lots of time alone to think, to wonder about the friggin lawyer, Ellie, Walt’s future...and roping.

  What had once been the center of his existence during the competitive season suddenly didn’t seem all that important, which wasn’t the attitude to have if he was going to make it to Nationals. He didn’t know if his sudden ambivalence was related to his brother, or if it was merely a coincidence that about the time his top competition disappeared he was no longer as interested in dominating the field as he’d once been.

  It’ll pass. He’d get his competitive drive back.

  The tractor bounced as he pulled it forward and started toward the pen the calves had occupied until last night. Walt had put the calves in a pen on the opposite side of the barn—one with a loop safety latch in addition to the regular latch. Ryan didn’t know whether he should be insulted or amused.

  He’d just parked the tractor after a good hour of mucking the empty corrals when he heard the door of the main house shut. Through the open barn door he watched as Ellie cautiously approached the flagstone steps where Hiss liked to sun, then after ascertaining that it was all clear, walking briskly to her Land Rover. Was she as alone as she’d indicated? He hated the thought. Yes, she had a place to live, but did she have anyone to lean on?

  You’re not that someone.

  No doubt, but it still bothered him to think of her facing her situation alone.

  * * *

  IT HAD SEEMED as if she’d had to wait forever for her OB appointment, but now that Ellie was there, in the office, she felt totally out of place—just as she’d felt on the ranch during the first few days. She didn’t belong here. This hadn’t been in the plan.

  There were four other women waiting with her, two with small children, all on the same journey as she, but they seemed more relaxed, as if they’d clued in to whatever secret there was to raising children and felt confident in their future.

  Ellie felt anything but.

  “You’re new in town?” the nurse sai
d as she directed Ellie to the scale.

  “Brand-new.”

  “Have you seen a doctor previously?”

  “No. I spent some time in denial and then I moved here and couldn’t get an appointment for a few weeks.”

  The nurse’s eyebrows went up at her candid denial, but all she said was, “How far along do you think you are?”

  “I know exactly how far along I am because there’s only one time I could have gotten pregnant.”

  Ellie told her the date and the nurse jotted it down.

  “Hmm. Ten weeks on the nose. That’s right when we first want to see you.”

  “Why so late?” Ellie asked.

  “If the pregnancy isn’t viable, nature generally takes care of it during the first eight weeks.” The nurse removed the blood pressure cuff, seemingly satisfied with the reading. “In some larger practices, it’s hard to get an appointment during the first trimester unless you’re already a patient.” She took a paper cup off the top of a stack, wrote Ellie’s name on it with marker and then handed it to her. “The restroom is on the right, the instructions for collection are on the door.”

  Almost an hour later Ellie walked out of the office into the clear Montana morning reassured that the fall she’d taken while chasing the calves had done no damage. She had another appointment scheduled in four weeks’ time, a plastic bag of reference materials and a due date.

  Very sobering.

  She had six and a half months to prepare to be a mom. It’d taken her longer than that to decorate her last apartment.

  As soon as she got home, Ellie was going to seriously start applying for jobs. She’d had her grieving time and her adjustment time. Now she needed to set about making a life for her and her kid.

  A life where?

  Wherever she could find a job and afford to live as a single mother. She was facing an awesome responsibility here and it was time to get off her ass and make things work.

  Ellie bought groceries and several flats of flowers at the hardware store next door, then drove back to the ranch ticking items off a mental list—people to call, areas to explore. She rounded the last corner before the ranch house, then slowed almost to a stop when she spotted a shiny black truck with a lot of chrome parked in front of the house.

  She’d lived for too long in the city to feel comfortable with this situation and was seriously considering swinging the Rover around and driving back to the Garcias’ place when a man got out of the truck, smiling broadly as he raised a hand.

  He was dressed very much as Walt had been the first and only time she’d met with him to discuss his position—white starched shirt, dark jeans, shiny boots. His gray hat was immaculate, as were his teeth. A large silver buckle covered a good portion of his flat abdomen. He looked like a highly successful rancher—or ranch consultant. Was this George?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ELLIE DROVE THROUGH the gate and parked, but kept the engine running as she cracked the window down a few inches.

  “Are you Ellison Hunter?” the man asked in a congenial voice.

  “I am.” Wavy dark hair showed from under the edge of his hat and there was a smile in the man’s hazel eyes. He was really good-looking.

  “George Monroe.”

  “I had a feeling,” she said, turning off the ignition. “My uncle said you might be early, but I don’t think he thought it would be this early.”

  “It’s not, but I was in the area and decided to stop by. Introduce myself.” He straightened, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed his surroundings with a practiced eye. “I can’t wait to get to work.”

  Ellie wasn’t certain what that meant, but after talking to Ryan, she had an idea that it didn’t bode well for Walt.

  “If you have a minute to spare,” Ellie said after getting out of the Rover, “would you like something to drink and we can discuss your plans?”

  “Sounds excellent,” he said.

  George stayed for thirty minutes. Ellie had started to usher him out to the back patio with the iced tea, then remembered the mayhem the calves had caused. She stopped in the middle of the living room, smiled at George and said, “Why don’t we sit inside?”

  He shrugged and followed her to the kitchen.

  “What I like to do,” he said, “is to take part in the daily ranch activities. Get a feel for who does what and how.” He paused as if expecting her to be impressed by his hands-on approach. Ellie gave an encouraging smile and he went on. “Having grown up on a ranch, and worked on a ranch, I know the qualities that make a competent ranch hand and ranch manager.”

  “Good to know,” she said politely. How many of those qualities would Walt have? Two? Three?

  “I also do a complete financial evaluation, going over the records for the past several years, make recommendations based on those. I have a background in agriculture, range management and beef husbandry. I’ll evaluate the breeding program, the forage, the wildlife management practices.”

  There didn’t seem to be much George couldn’t do. He flew his own plane, brewed his own beer and sometimes he sang with a trio at the cowboy poetry gatherings that had become popular in the West over the past few decades.

  After he finished telling her how he operated and that he’d be in contact soon with a definite arrival date, Ellie walked him to the porch and then watched as he drove away.

  Charming guy. Seemed to know his stuff. Highly recommended.

  Ellie ticked through the reasons she should welcome George Monroe to the ranch. But there was something about him that kept Ellie from fully embracing his presence there. Maybe Ryan had prejudiced her toward him, but she was going to hold off on her judgment of Mr. Monroe. See what he did, how he operated. She was also going to tell Milo that he’d stopped by and firmed up his arrival date. She waited until the late afternoon to call, but as she’d half expected, her uncle was still at the hospital, so she gave Angela the news.

  “Milo will be glad to hear that,” Angela said.

  “Shouldn’t he be home by now?”

  “He’s never home because we’re going on vacation and he wants to make certain all the loose ends are tied up before he goes.”

  “Is that possible in his job?” Ellie asked.

  “Of course not, but that doesn’t keep him from trying.”

  “Where are you going on vacation?” Ellie asked, because it didn’t sound as if they were coming to the ranch and she’d thought that was the plan.

  “Two weeks in Belize, followed by a few days at home so that Milo can put his staff back in order and then we fly to Montana for two weeks at the ranch. I can’t wait to see you. How are you feeling?” Angela asked, plowing right into the next topic.

  “Good,” Ellie answered. “I saw a doctor and I guess everything is progressing as it should.”

  “I heard from Mavis.”

  “And...?”

  “Your life is your own.”

  “That’s what she told me,” Ellie said, feeling a twinge of disappointment that her mother hadn’t at least said that she was looking forward to a grandchild. Of course she wasn’t, but Ellie still had allowed herself to fantasize in the odd moment.

  “So do you have any idea when you might get here?” she asked, needing to change the subject. “I’d like to have some food in the house, have the bedroom ready.”

  “Isn’t there someone to do that?” Angela asked. “The woman that does the payroll?”

  “I’ll do it,” Ellie answered.

  “Beginning to get that nesting instinct?”

  “It gives me something to do.”

  “Feel free to buy anything you need to make the place more comfortable. We’ll reimburse.”

  “Careful, Auntie. I haven’t been shopping in a while.”

  “Then go for it, d
ear. Carte blanche. On me.”

  Ellie hung up the phone and leaned her head back into the leather chair cushion. It wouldn’t matter how much she spent, this place was never going to be comfortable for Angela. Maybe if it was closer to a larger city, with a golf course, shopping and four-star restaurants...but it wasn’t. It was close to a small town with no golf course, two small restaurants and a seasonal drive-in. Angela was moving here for Milo and she was convinced that she could do it. After living here for a couple weeks, Ellie thought otherwise.

  She set the phone on the side table and slipped on her shoes. Surely, once reality set in, Milo and Angela would work out a schedule where they stayed at the ranch only part of the year. Angela might survive that. Maybe Ellie could even come and visit them. Show her child some cows and horses.

  See a hot cowboy when her life was more settled.

  But why? It wasn’t as if it would go anywhere.

  Hiss was on the steps when she opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Sucking in a breath, she skirted around him. He sensed the movement and slithered off the step and into the grass, coming to a stop a few feet away, lying perfectly still as Ellie walked past. Lonnie was at the shop—she’d seen him go by a few minutes before calling Angela—and now would be a perfect time for him to catch the snake.

  She crossed the gravel drive to the shop and walked through the open door, stopping just inside to allow her eyes to adjust.

  “You need something?” Walt barked.

  Startled, Ellie turned toward the direction of his voice to find him standing next to a workbench. “I was looking for Lonnie.”

  “He’s out in the field.”

  “Hiss is out and I thought maybe Lonnie could catch him and move him.”

  Walt scrunched up his face into a disgusted expression and went back to digging through the tool chest in front of him.

  “If someone doesn’t move him, then Angela will probably call in an exterminator.” Ellie was not exaggerating.

  “What in the hell are people like that doing buying a ranch?” Walt muttered just loud enough for her to hear over the clattering of tools.