by Mindy Neff
“Looked to me like he was responding just fine out there in the yard.”
“Oh, sure. For two seconds. That’s about how long it takes him to remember who he’s flirting with.” She flicked her hair behind her ear and reached out to steady Katie as the child levered herself to her feet using Dora’s thigh as a pulley.
“To be perfectly honest, Hannah, I don’t have any…uh, hands-on experience in this sort of thing. Seduction, and…sex, that is. And for a man like Ethan Callahan, that’s what it’s going to take to get his attention.”
“And you want me to coach you?”
Dora let out a breath. Even woman-to-woman, this conversation was difficult. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
The smile that spread across Hannah’s face was full of unholy feminine glee. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” And Hannah Malone couldn’t wait to tell her husband that Ethan Callahan, heartbreaker playboy cowboy, was actually resisting a woman!
Chapter Ten
For the past week Ethan felt like a stallion that was constantly being led to the teasing rail, yet never allowed to follow through. He wasn’t sleeping, he couldn’t concentrate on his work, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
His life was in chaos. And it was Dora’s fault.
She decorated his life with the simple effervescence of her sunny personality. She bebopped to music through her headphones, or if she wasn’t wearing them, just to the beat in her head. She flitted through the day like a butterfly, rarely resting. She’d set something down, forget about it and step right over it without a care.
It wasn’t as though she considered herself a princess or expected others to pick up after her. She simply didn’t notice, wasn’t bothered. She appeared to exist in her own bubble.
Yet she wasn’t a woman a man should underestimate. She was sharp.
And obviously determined to seduce him.
Which was why he was lurking in the hall like a coward, checking the television room to see if she was there, to see if he needed to head in the opposite direction.
His heart jolted when he saw her, but Ethan didn’t run. Instead he leaned against the doorjamb and grinned.
Clay had the misfortune of thinking he could take a quick snooze in his favorite easy chair. He lay there unsuspectingly, reared back in the recliner, his legs crossed, blissfully unaware of what was happening around him.
Dora leaned over him, carefully positioning a kitten and a puppy—a border collie pup Ethan didn’t recognize—on the back of the chair by Clay’s shoulders.
Quickly, professionally, Dora stepped back and started clicking away with the camera.
And that’s when all hell broke loose.
The kitten batted at Clay’s hair, startling him awake, which in turn startled the animals.
Clay came up out of the chair cursing, the cat shot off the recliner, climbed straight up the wall unit and knocked over Grant’s rodeo trophy, and the dog snatched the paperback book Clay had been reading and shimmied under the sofa.
Thoroughly entertained—especially since he wasn’t the unsuspecting victim this time—Ethan quickly swooped up Katie before the puppy could mow her down as it tore out from under the sofa again, barking happily at the fun game. Max, wearing the canine equivalent of a mature, put-upon expression, guarded Ethan’s leg and the baby.
“What the hell?” Still in a half stupor from sleep, Clay blinked like a barn owl.
“Language,” Ethan admonished.
“Beg pardon.” The angry expression cleared from Clay’s face as he looked at Dora, realized at last what was going on.
“I’m sorry,” Dora said, eyes shining with mirth. “I couldn’t resist that shot.”
She wasn’t a bit sorry, Ethan thought, a strange, indulgent warmth invading his senses. He was starting to look forward to her unpredictability.
“Oh…uh, that’s okay.” Clay looked warily at the kitten perched on the top shelf of the wall unit.
Dora didn’t seem concerned.
“I don’t believe I recognize these animals,” Ethan commented casually, shifting Katie in his arms when she wiggled to get down.
“Aren’t they darling? I got them from Hannah.”
Ethan’s brows rose. “Justine’s pups and our own barn cats weren’t good enough?”
“Oh, they’re wonderful. But each animal has its own individual personality and expression.”
“Mmm. And these two are full of spit and vinegar.” Good thing Wyatt had gotten rid of the llama, or she’d have probably dragged that home, too.
“Makes a nice variety.” She glanced up to the top shelf of the wall unit. “Suppose we should get her down, or let her find her own way?”
“Is she house broken?”
“Right. We’ll get her.”
Clay was one step ahead of them. He’d already scooped up the squirming puppy and was coaxing the wiry kitty with a wiggle of his fingers, which worked like a charm. He laughed when the puppy started licking him to death. “I’ll take them out with the other baby animals if that’s okay?”
Ethan looked at Dora, wondering if she would put up a fuss, but she nodded in agreement. Probably because she knew they kept the pups and kittens in the stable next to the tack room, all nice and cozy with all the comforts an animal could want. Manny took excellent care of them.
“So, are these new pets we’ve acquired, or are we hopefully just borrowing them?”
“Just borrowing. I feel as though I’m in Heaven out here. Usually I have to go to the pound to get animals, then there’s the problem of finding them a good home.” She picked up a throw pillow that had been knocked on the floor and tossed it back on the couch. Ethan blinked.
“The people at church have been good about adopting,” she continued, obviously unaware that she’d actually noticed something out of place, “so it really works out very well all the way around—for the most part. There are a couple of the older animals who’ve become wards of the church.”
Ethan felt a smile tug. “A couple?”
“Well, maybe more like a few.”
Her tinkling laugh charmed him. And though he knew he ought to just cut this conversation off, he couldn’t seem to walk away. She was driving him nuts, but he wanted to be with her. Problem was, he wanted to be with her really badly, as close as a man and woman could get. And that was a dangerous way to be thinking in a house full of beds.
“Do you ride?”
“Horses? Of course.”
“What do you say we go out tomorrow, let you see a little of the place, maybe have lunch down by the creek? We’ll rig Katie up in the backpack and you can bring your sketch pad,” he said quickly so it wouldn’t sound like he was asking her for a date. “You can draw the butterflies or something.”
She looked at him for a very long moment, and Ethan wanted to take back the invitation. There was a fire in her lake-blue eyes, and something more. An attitude, he realized, one that any man past puberty would recognize and respond to. It was in the way she dipped her head and cocked it slightly to the left, the way she touched her throat, slowly shifted her hair, the way she looked directly into his eyes and held him there.
She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip leaving a sheen that made him swallow hard.
“A picnic?” Her whisky voice was soft, like a sensuously whispered melody, but it still jolted him, made him aware of where he was and that he had a baby in his arms and a firm vow to keep his hands to himself.
His brows drew together. “Are you doing that deliberately?”
“Yes.” Just like that. No coyness. No pretending to misunderstand. She breezed past him on her way to the door, then doubled back and gave Katie a gentle kiss.
When her eyes raised to his, Ethan found that he’d gone mute, paralyzed and mesmerized all over again.
“And I’d love to go on a picnic with you, Ethan.” Her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
It was a full five seconds before Ethan remembe
red to breathe. He rested his jaw on top of Katie’s head, feeling a tug at his heart when he glanced down and saw her pudgy cheek pressed against his chest, her normally energized eyes heavy with sleepiness.
“I think I just made a big mistake, kiddo.”
DORA DRESSED CAREFULLY in figure-hugging jeans and a white tank top that barely reached her waistband. If she moved ever so subtly, the hemline of the top exposed flirty glimpses of bare skin.
“Okay, Katie, how do I look?” She lifted the baby’s foot and pretended to gnaw on her toes, which sent Katie into gales of heartwarming giggles, her mouth wide open, her cheeks so round they looked as if they would meet her eyebrows.
Scooping her up, Dora did a little dance around the room, allowing herself the pure pleasure of just holding the little girl, smelling her baby-powder-scented skin, pressing her lips to that sweet spot just there on the child’s neck.
“I don’t think I could stand it if I lost you, Katie,” she murmured. “I love you so much.” Realizing she was about to get weepy, Dora took a breath and added a note of excitement to her voice. “Yep, I do. Now, we’re going for a horseback ride. What do you say about that? And you, my little munchkin, get to ride with me in your backpack. Kind of like putting a saddle on me, huh?”
She finished packing the diaper bag and skipped down the stairs, her laughter blending with Katie’s as the child shrieked and clapped over the bouncy ride. “You like that? You’ll do just fine on the horse, then.”
Stopping on her way through the kitchen, Dora grabbed her camera and sketch pad and stuffed both in the diaper bag, then loaded the small picnic basket. “Just let him try and resist my fried chicken,” she said as they went out the kitchen door.
It was a glorious day for a picnic.
And for seduction.
Oh, she knew this wouldn’t be the time. But at least she could try to lay the groundwork. Overcome his objections.
Perhaps even make him fall in love.
She sighed and stepped into the cool interior of the stables.
The smell of horses, hay, leather and liniment mingled together and swirled on the breeze. For some reason the scent reminded her of money. Crazy, she thought. Grandpa had done a fine job of teaching Dora the value of property and to recognize the signs of success, which was likely where the equation came from.
And in here there were plenty of signs of success. The sloped concrete floor was swept clean, the stalls lined with fresh straw or sawdust. Blankets, buckets and all manner of implements were tidily grouped and organized. And they all bore the Callahan & Sons green-and-white logo, right down to the last curry brush.
Ethan was checking the cinch on the saddle of a pretty roan mare. She paused, trying not to make a sound, wanting to take a moment just to admire him—not just his devastatingly handsome looks, but the way he lovingly ran his hand over the roan’s sleek neck, the capability that emanated from him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched as he went about his work, spoke with Manny and Grant, lifted a stallion’s leg and conferred with another man Dora didn’t recognize over the horse’s shoe.
Katie, having been uncannily, blessedly quiet up to that point, squealed, kicking her legs and waving her arms as Max trotted over to them. “Ax!”
Ethan looked up, and right away told himself to get a grip. With her blond hair haloed by a backdrop of sunlight, she looked like an angel. And for a stunning second he could have sworn he saw her glow.
It was an image he needed to remember, to remind himself of, about every two seconds for the next little while, or more likely the rest of his life.
Thou shalt not touch the preacher’s daughter, he chanted silently.
The admonishment didn’t do a bit of good when she was the one doing the touching. She walked right up to him and placed her hand on his arm, gave it a firm squeeze.
“I’m going to admit something, so brace yourself.”
He did, surprised by the way his heart bumped against his chest. There was no telling what this maddening, unpredictable woman was going to say.
“I’m impressed.”
He was a goner. That’s all there was to it.
A grin started deep in his gut and flowed all the way to his lips. “I’m crazy about you, legs.”
“Well?” The single word was an invitation, as was the lift of her brows and the sassy quirk of her mouth. “Feel free to show me how crazy.”
Ethan laughed. “Don’t even go there.”
“Chicken.”
“You got that right. Yellow clear through.” He kissed Katie’s waving hand. Luckily Dora’s short height made it too far of a reach for the baby to grab his hat. “Come on. Let’s see if I can impress you some more.”
He led her to a stall where a darling little foal was enjoying a frisky romp in the spacious area.
“Oh, isn’t she a sweetheart.”
“She’s Katie’s.”
Dora looked at him, and for a fleeting instant an emotion flared in her eyes that reminded him of sadness. Or fear.
“Don’t you think Katie’s a little young to have a horse?”
“I’m not going to turn her loose right now.” He gave a gentle, playful tug to Dora’s hair, glad that the odd expression had passed. “They’ll grow up together. By the time Katie’s ready, Stony Stratton will have this filly trained to perfection.”
“Why Stony and not one of your men? Or you?”
“Because Stony’s the best. Remember that Red-ford movie?”
She nodded.
“Not only could Stony have played the part, he lives it. He’s got an uncanny way with animals. It’s a gift.”
“A horse whisperer?”
“Something like that. Ready?” He led her back to where the horses were saddled. “Meet Clarabelle.” He patted the roan on her neck.
“Clarabelle?” Dora repeated.
“Don’t let the name fool you. She’s got plenty of spirit. But she’ll be happy to walk, which is what I figured we’d do today since we have Katie.” He placed a step stool beside the horse and steadied Dora and Katie as Dora slipped her foot in the stirrup and mounted. He slid his gaze over the snug fit of her jeans and told himself he was not going to notice that flirty patch of smooth skin where her tank top didn’t quite meet her waistband.
He checked the length of the stirrups, adjusted them and looked up—right into her blue-eyed gaze. She had some kind of glossy stuff on her voluptuous lips that was going to drive him crazy, make him want to taste.
He cleared his throat. “Okay?”
“Perfect. This feels so good.”
He wasn’t going to groan. He wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to respond to Grant’s or Clay’s knowing smiles since they’d very obviously heard Dora’s innocent words and placed the same sinful connotation on them that Ethan had.
He tugged his hat low on his brow and mounted his horse. “Clara will respond to the slight pressure of your knees, or a featherlight touch of the reins. She reads minds.”
Dora’s laugh bubbled up like a clear brook. “She does not.”
Ethan shrugged. “See for yourself.”
All the way out of the corral and onto the grounds, he kept the pace to a walk, checking Katie often, noticing that the sway of the horse was lulling her. A comfortable silence settled around them as they drank in the smell of fresh-mowed grass, and the sight of white fences that comprised individual pens where purebred mares and their foals grazed. Beyond them stretched miles of prairie and endless blue sky.
Sometimes it still surprised him that all this was his. Who would have thought that a dirty kid who picked pockets on the streets of Chicago would turn out like this, have so much, be so fulfilled. Odd how that last thought nudged him, as though something was missing but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
He glanced at Katie and Dora, charmed by the look of pure appreciation on Dora’s face.
“If I was to say—” Dora’s words broke off as Clarabelle halted, her bridle jingling as she toss
ed her head in a nod. “Stop,” Dora finished. “My gosh, she did read my mind! I thought the word stop, and she did.”
“Told ya.”
“Mmm.” She started Clarabelle walking again by staring at a spot between the horse’s ears.
Ethan felt a smile bathe his insides with a fire that settled into warmth as it reached his mouth and eyes. Dora had such an enjoyment of life. She was still staring intently at Clarabelle’s ears, looking thoroughly pleased with herself, as though she were guiding the horse by telepathy.
Actually it was the unconscious shift of her body a millisecond before her brain caught up and signaled action that Clarabelle was responding to.
“Almost there,” he said.
Dora looked up and drew in a breath. “Oh, I had no idea this was here.”
Just ahead of them a creek bubbled soothingly over smooth rocks. Typical of June, the cottonwoods were already letting their snow fly, dotting the creek bank with whispy tufts of white.
“I thought you’d like it. Sit tight and I’ll help you down with Katie.”
Dora was already swinging her leg over the saddle. He might have known she wouldn’t wait. It was a wonder she managed to sit still for so long in the first place. A whirlwind rarely rested.
Ethan took Katie out of the backpack, amazed that the kid didn’t wake up with all the jostling. After Dora had spread the blanket, he laid the baby down in the shade, smiling at the way she sprawled like a limp frog.
His fingertips lingered over her fine wisps of hair. It continually awed him that this little girl had come from him.
And it frightened him, too.
One of the reasons he appreciated pure bloodlines was because his were so inferior. What if there was something in his genetic background that could be passed along to an unsuspecting child? It happened in horses. No matter how hard you tried to breed it out of them, certain nasty traits, ones that could be a couple of generations removed would show up.
Had he passed something along to Katie?
What’s done was done, he thought, and all he could do now was compensate for any renegade genes. Proper raising could counteract flaws, he reminded himself.