THE TIES THAT BIND

by Ginna Gray

  "Hey, you! You're Zach Mahoney, aren't you?" Lennie barked. "One of Seamus's bastard grandsons."

  Zach's jaw clenched, but he kept working. "That's right."

  "I want to talk to you."

  "Oh? About what?" Zach slung a sack into the pickup bed and turned back for another one without breaking stride.

  Lennie followed on his heels. "I'm Lennie Dawson."

  "I know who you are."

  "Yeah, well, here's something maybe you didn't know." He stuck out his jaw. "Willie Simmons belongs to me."

  Zach experienced a rush of distaste. Willa was a high-tempered, annoying thorn in his side, but the thought of her being romantically involved with this guy was unsettling.

  Outwardly he didn't react in any way. He simply continued transferring sacks, working in a steady, slow rhythm.

  "Hey, Mahoney! Did you hear what I just said?"

  "I heard you."

  "Yeah, well I'm warning you – stay away from her."

  "That's going to be difficult, since we live in the same house." Zach dumped a sack and turned to go back for another but this time Lennie blocked his path.

  The first time he'd encountered this man Zach had pegged him for a swaggering bully, and nothing he'd seen so far had changed his mind. Though several inches shorter than Zach, and probably twenty pounds lighter, he stood braced for a fight, his hands fisted and his chin outthrust. Ranking him on either side, his buddies had assumed the same challenging position. Zach doubted that he would have been quite so eager for a confrontation if he'd been alone.

  "You know what I mean, smart guy." Lennie reached out and poked Zach's chest with his forefinger. Zach narrowed his eyes. "You keep your hands off of her, you hear? Willie is mine. An' I don't share what's mine." He poked him again. "You got that?"

  Zach stared at him. He itched to ram his fist into the arrogant little weasel's face just on general principles, but he resisted the urge. The locals were already wary of him and his brothers simply because they were Seamus's grandsons. They hoped to eventually overcome the old man's reputation, but getting into a brawl after being in the area only a month wasn't exactly the best way to start off.

  For all he knew, Dawson could be telling the truth. Willa had denied any involvement with the guy, but who knew. Maybe that scene he'd witnessed had been a lovers' spat, after all.

  Finally he nodded. "Yeah. I understand. Now, if you excuse me, I have more seed to load."

  Lennie appeared taken aback by Zach's attitude. He clearly had expected an argument, had probably hoped for one. After a moment his surprised expression turned into a smirk. "Sure. Just don't forget what I told you, Mahoney. C'mon, fellas." Motioning for his friends to follow, Lennie swaggered back to his pickup.

  Zach watched them drive away, his eyes narrowed beneath the broad brim of his Stetson. Had Willa told him about that kiss they'd shared in the barn? Was that what had prompted that attempt at intimidation?

  If so, Lennie had wasted his breath. He'd already decided that nothing like that would happen again. He didn't even want to think about it.

  He had meant the kiss to be punishment. Yeah, right. That plan had backfired on him the instant their lips had touched. He had never experienced passion that strong before. It had sizzled and arced between them like lightening, and rocked him right down to the ground. He knew that Willa had been just as stunned.

  And just as displeased.

  Zach was grateful that the men had returned when they had and interrupted them. Otherwise, he was very much afraid that within minutes he and Willa would have been rolling in the hay in one of the empty stalls, tearing off each other's clothes.

  That would have been disaster, of course. An affair between them was out of the question. Not to mention just plain stupid. The woman couldn't stand him, for Pete's sake. To her, he was the enemy. They were reluctant business partners, and that's all they would ever be. Period.

  Still, merely thinking about how she had felt in his arms sent heat straight to his loins. Annoyed, Zach cursed and went back to loading seed. When done, he slammed the tailgate shut, climbed into the cab, gunned the engine and made a screeching U-turn out onto the highway, headed for the ranch.

  Beyond being a royal pain in the rear, Willa meant nothing to him, he told himself. But he sure as hell couldn't say much for her taste in men.

  * * *

  Willa spent two days helping a crew of men repair a stock tank in a part of the ranch that was inaccessible by truck. Unable to get a front-end loader to the site, they had to do the job by hand. It was backbreaking work, but since Zach was busy elsewhere, it seemed to her the best place to be.

  Willa put her back into the work, shoveling dirt, hauling rocks and stacking them against the earthen bank for reinforcement, right along with the men. They finally finished close to sundown the second day, and the men headed for the ranch headquarters and the hearty supper Cookie was sure to have simmering on the stove. Willa, however, declined to go with them, saying she wanted to check the fence line in the next pasture before calling it a day.

  The truth was she was not in any hurry to return home. Most evenings she delayed doing so until the last possible minute, even though that usually earned her a scolding from Maria. In addition, tonight she simply wanted some time to herself. In the past, she'd done some of her best thinking riding fence.

  By the time Willa finally returned to the ranch house and saw to Bertha's needs it was full dark. Expecting to find the others seated around the table, she braced herself, but when she entered through the back door Maria was alone in the kitchen and pots still simmered on the stove. The housekeeper looked up and smiled.

  "Ah, there you are. The others, they were getting worried about you, niña."

  "Where is everyone?" Willa asked.

  "Upstairs, getting dressed. Today is Tyrone's birthday, remember? Dinner tonight, it will be special. A birthday party."

  Willa groaned. "And I suppose everyone else has gotten him a gift."

  "Sí."

  "Oh, great. That's just terrific. Somebody might have told me."

  "But, niña … everyone, they have been talking about it for days." Maria's confusion turned into a scowl. "You were not listening, again, eh, muchacha?"

  "No, I was listening, I, uh … I guess I just forgot." Maria had been right, though. Most often she simply tuned out the conversation around the table. Partly out of exhaustion, but also to maintain a distance from the others. It was easier that way.

  "Humph!" The look in Maria's eyes said she didn't believe her, but she shooed Willa toward the door. "At least go shower and make yourself pretty for the boy. You smell of horse. Now go, go. It is getting late."

  Willa started for the door, then paused and gave Maria a considering look.

  No matter how hard she worked or how far she rode, she had not been able to dismiss from her mind the shocking things Tyrone had told her. Over and over she'd told herself that it couldn't be true. What kind of people – parents, no less – would do such things to children? He must have made it up. Or at the very least he'd exaggerated.

  "Uh, Maria … has Maude Ann or Matt said anything to you about the children? Why they were in foster care?"

  "Ah, sí." She crossed her hands over her heart and shook her head sadly. In an emotional voice, and pausing now and then to dab at her eyes with the hem of her apron, she related each child's story, confirming in ghastly detail what Tyrone had said earlier. By the time the housekeeper had finished, Willa was appalled and outraged. And sick at heart.

  She had always considered her own childhood a miserable one. Most of her life she had striven in vain to win Seamus's love and approval. Almost from the day that she and her mother had arrived at the ranch she had figured out that the only thing that mattered to her stepfather was the Rocking R. So she had thrown herself into ranch work and learned everything she could about the business and tried to make herself indispensable to him. It had been a foolish quest that had been doomed from the star
t, she realized now. Seamus had wanted a son, and nothing any girl child could have done would have ever been enough.

  Still, those years of verbal abuse and emotional coldness she'd endured from him were nothing compared to what these children had survived.

  "Life has been cruel to these little ones. But that is all over. They belong to Señor and Señora Dolan now. Gracias a Dios."

  "Yes. Yes, thank God." Willa left the kitchen and climbed the stairs in an appalled daze. She felt as though an aching, fist-size knot had lodged beneath her breast bone. Suddenly she was fiercely glad that Maude Ann and Matt had adopted Tyrone and the other children, and that they'd brought them there, to the Rocking R, where they would be safe and loved.

  In honor of the occasion, dinner was in the dining room that night. Willa couldn't remember the last time they had used the impressive formal room. Probably when her mother was still alive.

  She dressed in her new burgundy-and-gray-print, ankle-length skirt, burgundy sweater and gray suede dress boots, her freshly washed hair loose. She felt a bit self-conscious, but when she entered the dining room and saw that everyone else had dressed up, her misgivings faded. It helped that Kate and Maude Ann's eyes lit up when they spotted her.

  "Willa! How pretty you look," Maude Ann exclaimed.

  "You certainly do." Kate circled around her. "Oh, my, I love your outfit. You should wear a dress more often."

  "There's, uh … there's not too many occasions that call for dressing up around here. Jeans are more practical." She didn't bother to mention that Seamus discouraged the practice. The few times she had bothered to put on a skirt or dress he'd snarled that she looked like a gussied-up tart.

  "If this is the kind of merchandise they have in Helena I can see that one of these days the three of us are going to have to drive over there together and hit the shops," Kate said, fingering the soft drapy skirt.

  Together? The three of them on a shopping spree? Like … like girlfriends? Willa blinked at the two women. Was this Kate's way of saying she wanted them to be friends?

  The idea was alien to Willa, and it filled her with both dread and longing. She had never, not once in her life, had a close female friend. Or gone shopping with another woman, other than her mother or Maria.

  Willa had no experience with girlfriends. Even though she'd yearned for female companionship for most of her life, the very idea made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she knew how to relate to women as friends.

  The door between the kitchen and dining room swung open, and Maria entered carrying an enormous dish of enchiladas, which Tyrone had requested for his birthday dinner.

  While Kate and Maude Ann helped Maria bring in the steaming platters, Willa pulled an envelope from her pocket and slipped it in among the gaily wrapped gifts stacked on the sideboard.

  She turned from doing so, and her heart skipped a beat when she discovered that Zach was staring at her. He stood by himself by the bay window on the opposite side of the room drinking a beer, those green eyes glittering at her over the rim of his glass.

  Resisting the urge to turn away, she set her chin at a mulish angle and stared right back. Instead of having the good manners to look away, as she expected, he held her gaze for an interminable time, while her heart thudded against her ribs and a hot blush rushed to her cheeks. Then his gaze slid slowly down her body, from her loose swinging hair all the way to her fancy new boots, lingering along the way at her breasts, her waist, and the flare of her hips beneath the swirly skirt.

  The intense scrutiny unnerved her, but as panic began to beat its wings against the walls of her stomach, Maude Ann announced that dinner was served. Relieved, Willa hurried over to the table.

  Tyrone was seated in the place of honor at the opposite end of the table from Zach. Beaming from ear to ear, the boy made the most of his privileged status and soaked up all the attention coming his way. After dinner he blew out his candles with one gusty exhale and ripped into his gifts like a tornado while all the other kids crowded around his chair.

  He received a video game player and several games from his parents, a robot action figure from J.T. and Kate, a baseball glove from Maria and various toys from his siblings. When all the boxes were opened he picked up Willa's envelope and tore it open without much interest. Willa could see by his bored expression he was expecting it to be a card.

  "It's just a dumb ole note," he said, making no effort to hide his disgust when he pulled out the single sheet of paper.

  "Tyrone, mind your manners." Maude Ann warned.

  "Yeah, before you get too bummed you'd better read it, sport. It might be a treasure map, for all you know."

  Tyrone shot his father a "yeah, right" look and unfolded the paper. "This en…tit…"

  Kate leaned over and scanned the first line. "Entitles."

  "This entitles the bear…er to one pair of cowboy bo…oots and—" He looked up, his eyes growing huge. "One pair of cowboy boots! Wow!" His gaze darted back to the paper, his face growing more animated as he read. "And free … ri…riding les…sons. Hot dog! Riding lessons! I'm gonna have riding lessons!"

  "Hey, great, tiger. Whose gift is that?" J.T. asked.

  Tyrone's gaze shot down to the bottom of the page. He looked up again, his eyes wide. "It's from Willa!"

  A stunned silence followed, and Willa found herself the focus of ten pairs of eyes.

  "What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

  "Oh. Nothing." Maude Ann replied. "It's, uh … it's just that … well … this is very kind of you, Willa."

  "I thought you said you didn't have time to teach me how to ride."

  "I don't. But I decided to take the time. I'll knock off early on Tuesdays and Thursdays and you meet me in corral one at five sharp. Okay?"

  "O-kay!"

  "Good. Tomorrow I'll take you to town for those boots."

  "You mean … just you and me?"

  "Sure."

  To Willa's astonishment, Tyrone's eyes grew suspiciously moist. Suddenly he scrambled down from his chair, raced around the table and flung his arms around her neck. "Thanks, Willa."

  She patted the child's back awkwardly, at a loss.

  Like most children, Tyrone rebounded quickly and the emotional moment passed. He and the other kids inhaled bowls of chocolate cake and ice cream before the adults had eaten half of theirs and took off for the den to play with his loot.

  Still shaken by the boy's reaction, Willa excused herself as soon as they'd gone.

  "Don't rush off. Stay and have some coffee, why don't you," Kate urged.

  "No. Thank you. I, uh, I'm tired. It's been a long day. Good night."

  She barely made it to the bottom of the stairs when Zach caught up with her.

  "Willa, wait up."

  She stopped with one foot on the first step and shot him a wary look. "What do you want?"

  His lips twitched. "Nothing bad. Relax, will you? Not everything between us has to be a battle, you know." She jumped when he put his hand over hers on the newel post, and her heart took off at a gallop. The touch of that calloused palm against her skin sent heat zinging up her arm. "I just wanted to say thanks. That was a nice thing you did. Tyrone is in heaven."

  She could see that he hadn't expected that kind of gesture from her. Actually, she was having second thoughts herself. It had seemed like a good idea when she'd written the note, but now she wasn't sure. What did she know about kids? Especially a rambunctious one like Tyrone? What if she couldn't handle him? What if he got hurt?

  "I'm glad he's happy," she replied stiffly.

  "Yeah, well … Tyrone can be a handful. I thought maybe I'd give you a hand with those lessons. If that's all right with you?"

  Willa narrowed her eyes as a painful suspicion began to take hold. "Why don't you be honest? You didn't follow me out here to thank me. You and the others still think I'm responsible for scaring Jennifer. Now you're worried that I mean to harm that boy." She snatched her hand from beneath his. "Regardl
ess of what any of you think, I'm not a monster."

  "I wasn't implying that you were. I simply thought you could use some help. Dammit, Willa, will you wait a second."

  Ignoring him, she climbed the stairs with her back ramrod-straight.

  Zach watched her go, exasperated and at the same time filled with reluctant admiration. Willa wore her pride like an iron cloak.

  But damn if she didn't look fantastic in that swirly skirt and sweater. He couldn't recall ever seeing her in anything but jeans and a shirt before.

  She had obviously just washed her hair, and the scent of jasmine drifting from it had nearly driven him wild. Usually she wore her hair in a braid or pulled back with a clip. Tonight that glorious ebony mane hung loose and arrow-straight almost to her waist. Beneath the entryway chandelier the shiny strands shone with the blue-black sheen of a raven's wing, swaying and sliding like a silk curtain with every furious step she took.

  Zach's fingers itched to dive into that thick mass, feel it warm against his skin, slithering through his fingers.

  Damn, Mahoney. What the hell are you doing fantasizing about Willa Simmons? The woman despises you. Even if she didn't, there was no way he was getting involved with that little spitfire.

  All right, so there was some sort of weird chemistry going on between them. After that mind-blowing kiss in the barn a couple of weeks ago, he could hardly deny that. But so what? Hell, she wasn't even his type. He preferred women who were sweet and gentle and domestic. Not temperamental tomboys.

  Willa disappeared into the upstairs hallway, and Zach heaved a sigh. "Damn prickly woman. One of these days you're going to collapse under the weight of that chip on your shoulder. If I don't knock it off first, that is."

  * * *

  Chapter 6

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  Willa was convinced that cattle were the most ornery critters God ever made. After a winter of drifting the range, they had grown wild and balked at being driven anywhere, especially cows that had recently dropped spring calves. The stubborn beasts hid out in the most inaccessible places, invariably bolted in the wrong direction when flushed out, and did their best to make a cowboy's life miserable.