The Rancher's Surrender

by Jill Shalvis

  Delia had suggested they utilize their manager—namely Ty—and let him take over the technical aspect of the ranch, but Zoe didn't want to lean on him. She didn't want to lean on anyone.

  But if she let her stubbornness have rein, she was going to lead them all to bankruptcy. She couldn't be that stupid, or selfish. The stress of it had started to keep her awake. She was hurting both Delia and Maddie with her hard head.

  It had to stop. She spent Saturday dwelling on it.

  Sunday morning she woke up and without thinking about it, because then she might change her mind, she hopped into one of the old trucks and drove the short distance to Ty's house. The most difficult part of the ride was craning her neck to catch the view. It was limited only by the horizon. It was impossible not to be touched by the spectacular scenery as she bounced along on the rough excuse for a road. The land was rugged, untamed.

  Serenity and serendipity, she thought. Both abounded here. Still, the closer she got, the more nerves danced in her belly. She hadn't been to Ty's house before, so she shouldn't have been surprised at the lovely, one-story ranch-style home, which was obviously well-cared for. The windows opened to the early sun, and flowers grew in a series of pots on the wraparound porch.

  Flowers?

  Frowning, Zoe hopped out of the truck, then didn't move as she digested the fact she was staring at yet another layer of the mysterious Ty Jackson.

  She was here for a purpose, she reminded herself. And nothing would detract her from that purpose: no bickering, no teasing, and most definitely no kissing.

  He didn't answer her knock.

  Deflated, Zoe turned around, taking in the property. It was much smaller than theirs, and every bit of it looked to be wisely used. There were pastures, each occupied with horses. The barn was red against the green forest behind it. The river cut close here, splashing even more color. It was such a perfect day she almost expected the colors to run together.

  Then she heard sounds coming from the barn, strange sounds that were almost like loud groans … as if an animal were in horrible pain. She walked down the path and toward the building, slowing when the unusual noises became louder, then louder still.

  It sounded like a horse in great pain, and when that horse screamed, a spine-tingling, ear-splitting whinny, Zoe started running. She burst into the barn, and when she did, someone let out a shout.

  She recognized that shout—it was Ty's—and Zoe's heart stopped. Blinking uselessly in the dim barn, Zoe was forced to waste precious seconds as her eyes became adjusted.

  "Zoe," Ty barked while she was still struggling to see. "Come here!"

  She could make out the shadows in the stall now. A horse down on its side, its flanks rising and falling rapidly as the animal grunted and breathed as though she'd been running a race.

  It was Abby, the pregnant mare.

  Ty was on his knees behind her, face tense with strain. His shirt was plastered to him, covered in muck that Zoe didn't want to think about.

  Immediately she realized the problem—the horse was in labor, and given Ty's face, she was not doing well. Just days ago she'd melted at the thought of a new foal, but being here, in the midst of the controlled chaos, watching Abby writhe in pain, was another thing entirely.

  Suddenly she was sorry she'd followed the sounds.

  When she didn't move, Ty swore and lifted his head, piercing her with his intense gaze. "You're going to have to help."

  "Me?" The word came out like a squeak. As a true city girl, she'd never even seen a dog have puppies. The thought suddenly made her feel light-headed. "Are you alone?" she asked in horror.

  "Not anymore." He nodded curtly to the other end of the stall. "Hold her head still and talk to her when the next contraction comes. She's getting too tired to push, so I'm going to have to help."

  "Oh God." She could see blood on the floor, in the straw beneath the whimpering horse, and on Ty. Her own blood roared in her ears. Her stomach did somersaults.

  "Zoe."

  She looked up at the low, terse command. Ty's eyes were lined with strain and determination. "I've had Abby since she was born. I'm not going to lose her now, dammit, because you're squeamish. If you're going to faint or throw up, then get the hell out."

  "I'll be fine."

  "This is ranch life," he told her harshly when she flinched at the strong smell of blood and sweat and birth. "This is life, period. And it's now a part of your life."

  She got the picture. If she couldn't do this, she had no business being in ranching. But she resented him for pointing it out and resented even more his doubting her, when she had enough of her own.

  The horse whinnied again, weaker now, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  "Not much longer," he crooned softly. Abby immediately responded to his gentle voice, but she was still suffering, and it no longer mattered that she wasn't human— Zoe's body ached in sympathy.

  She tried to imagine her own mother giving birth. Had she suffered? Cried? Rejoiced?

  Zoe had no way of knowing and no one to ask, and the injustice of that was hard to take. Had she been a good baby or a sickly one?

  Had she been loved?

  "Zoe, touch her."

  She did, whispering soft, inane words of encouragement as she fought emotions she didn't know she had. Time passed, could have been a moment, maybe an hour, but Zoe was so attuned to Abby and her pain it didn't matter. Abby's struggle became her own, so that when Abby made a horrible straining cry, so did Zoe.

  Ty's jaw tightened, his hands spread wide on the horse's belly. The muscles in his shoulder and back rippled through the cloth of his T-shirt as he moved over the horse. "Another contraction," he clipped, his hands smoothing over Abby's bulging belly. Then they disappeared and Zoe held her breath as he checked the foal's position.

  "Come on, baby, come on. Help me," he muttered, sweat beaded on his forehead. His face was tight with worry and fear, his voice perfectly calm as he let Abby know how much he cared in every breath he took.

  What would it be like to have a man like that on his knees, desperate to relieve her pain? To have him care for her above all else?

  "Talk to her, dammit," came Ty's low command.

  Zoe, stroking Abby's face gently, did just that while the horse strained and pushed. "You can do this," she whispered, wondering if Abby really could. "I know it's awful, but women go through this all the time. Of course human babies don't have four legs and weigh … how much does a foal weigh, I wonder?"

  Abby quivered and Zoe's heart constricted. She stroked some more and whispered more silly comments, anything to help calm her down. "You know what I wish? That the stallion that did this to you had to deliver the baby. Now, that would be justice."

  "It's coming," Ty called. "Come on, Abby, you can do it."

  Abby lifted her head and screamed—and it sounded so real, so utterly human, and so full of suffering, Zoe's throat closed. Her heart tightened in her chest. "Oh God," she whispered. "Oh God. Abby, honey, hang on, it'll be over soon! Ty is doing everything he can."

  Abby screamed again, shivered once, then fell so still Zoe shot up to her knees. "Ty?" she cried, desperately afraid for the horse. "Ty!"

  His wide shoulders were hunched over Abby, his face contorted into a grimace born of fear and stress. Sweat ran down his face. "I've got a hoof!"

  A hoof? Just one? Zoe groaned and sat back down, leaning close to Abby. "Come on, Abby, almost there. Push. Do it for me. Do it for Ty."

  Then suddenly Ty was shouting with triumph, his face split into a grin as he quickly helped clear the mucus and birth sac from the foal. He rose over Abby to see Zoe. "He's perfect!"

  Abby lifted her head, saw her baby sprawled out wet and shivering, half in Ty's lap and half between her back legs, and struggled to get up.

  "Let her," Ty said quietly when Zoe tried to hold her back. "She has to get to him."

  Abby managed, though it was painful to watch her as she was so shaky. She whinnied softly, and the baby l
ifted its head, still and hopeful, its little nose sniffing.

  Abby reached down and licked her new baby, awe and love in her warm, intelligent eyes, and Zoe watched, amazed as her baby responded instinctively, nuzzling close.

  Zoe had never come close to seeing anything like this, though she'd dreamed of it often. A surge of yearning and excitement filled her unexpectedly. This was real life. And it was beautiful. Messy but beautiful. Deep inside, some part of her wanted more of this, wanted it so badly she had to blink back hot tears as she became overwhelmed with emotion.

  She hadn't made a sound, but Ty's head whipped up and their gazes collided. Everything she felt, everything that had so awed and overwhelmed her, she saw mirrored in his own eyes.

  New life. New beginnings. They'd just experienced it, and with all her heart Zoe knew she wanted more.

  But "more" meant reaching out and taking it. As she stood there, locked in time, staring at Ty, she knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't face the pain it would bring.

  Better to not feel anything than to allow herself to feel and lose.

  As if he could read her mind and the cowardly thoughts in it, Ty looked away, breaking eye contact.

  Zoe felt the loss more keenly than she'd felt anything, but the moment was gone. Whatever had passed between them was over.

  The foal struggled awkwardly to his feet and went instinctively for Abby's milk.

  Ty had risen and moved out of her vision, but now be was back, handing her a towel. She realized tears were streaming down her face, which she wiped at, horrified at the weakness.

  "You okay?"

  She would be if he'd wrap her in his arms. But he didn't, and she didn't ask. She forced her usual unfeeling mask into place with huge effort.

  For a moment he only stared at her. "Thanks," he said stiffly. "I couldn't have done it without you."

  He turned and walked away, without a cocky smile, without the teasing she'd grown to count on, without so much as a single sexual innuendo.

  It had been exactly how she wanted things between the two of them. Casual. No strings attached.

  It was exactly as she would have done in reverse, if she'd been on the receiving end of that distancing look.

  But as he left her standing there in the stall staring after him, she wondered why she felt suddenly so empty.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  Why had she come, Zoe wondered, alone in Ty's barn. Had she really imagined she'd be able to swallow her pride and ask him for help?

  Yes. For her sisters she would.

  Anything for them, including facing the one man with the ability to rock her world.

  The bright sun felt good on her face when she left the barn, and she tipped it up, standing still for a moment.

  Ty looked up from the water hose where he'd been washing up, and froze at the sight. Zoe faced the sun, her long neck exposed, her lips curved in a half smile as she soaked up the heat.

  From where he stood he could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, could see the tension from her body slowly drain as she grappled with, then won some of her annoying self-control.

  Why he found that so arousing, he hadn't a clue. Always before he had preferred his women mild-tempered. No sharp tongue. A much softer appeal. And if they were blond and long-legged, so much the better.

  So why he was drinking in the sight of this petite, fire-tempered little wildcat? She made him furious and hot at the same time, and never had he encountered such a woman.

  He was still hurt at her cool and easy rejection of him, so he turned his attention away from her and continued to wash up. A shower would have suited him better than splashing icy water on his chest and arms, but he didn't have time. It was Sunday and he was alone. There was too much to do.

  But even with his back turned, the image of Zoe was imprinted on his mind, the way she'd looked when Abby had given birth—elated, sweet, loving, touched. To dispel the picture, he dunked his head, ignoring the iciness of the water as it dripped off him. When he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the hose and shook it off. He lifted his head and his gaze hit Zoe's.

  She'd not moved, not a muscle except her face, which was now turned directly toward him. Her mouth was open a little, as if she couldn't breathe.

  Frowning, he took a step toward her, instantly forgetting his promise to stay clear of Ms. Trouble. It wasn't something he did consciously, for he wasn't a man used to caring about others, but caring about this woman and her sisters seemed to be something he would have to live with.

  He reached her and she was still in that strange state of not breathing. "Zoe? You okay?"

  Her mouth fell open a bit more, then she swallowed audibly. "Uh … yeah. Sure."

  She sounded so … distraught. No, that wasn't right. Her eyes had gone wide, but there was no fear in them. "What is it?"

  Her gaze was glued to his chest now. "Ah … nothing. I mean, I've gotta go hard—er, home now and…" Her face flushed. "And get something to chest. I mean to drink. Drink!"

  And with that, she whirled and ran toward her truck.

  And get something to chest?

  Baffled, Ty glanced down at his own bare, dripping chest, wondering what had gotten into her.

  Something to chest.

  Suddenly a smile split his face. His temper and frustration didn't vanish but rather settled in line behind amusement. He easily caught up to her since she'd dropped her keys three times, then fumbled with the door handle.

  "Going to get something to chest?" he asked casually, coming to a halt behind her.

  Her shoulders stiffened. Her fingers went still.

  When he peered around to see her face, her eyes were closed, her mouth tight.

  And her face was a most definite shade of red.

  "It sure is warm today," he finished conversationally. "Never know when you're going to need something … to chest."

  Something escaped her throat, it sounded suspiciously like a groan.

  He laughed then, he just couldn't help it. Reaching for her, he turned her toward him, a feat in itself because she'd gone rigid as a corpse.

  "Hello." It wasn't kind to torment her, but she had the ability to single-handedly drive him crazy. He figured it was his God-given right to drive her crazy right back. "Come clean, Zoe, gig's up." He grinned and rubbed his chest. "You want me."

  She stared with great interest over his shoulder at nothing. "I have to go now."

  "I can see that." He laughed again, he couldn't help it; he suddenly felt lighter than he had in weeks. "Need another look at me first?"

  Her face went even redder.

  "Tongue-shy?" He bent closer, but she still wouldn't meet his gaze. "Wow, this is a first. Listen—you weren't by any chance back there … lusting after me, were you?"

  "Shut up."

  "You were." He laughed again, earning himself a cold glare.

  "All right!" she fumed, raising her hands. "All right! I might have been staring at you."

  "Might have been?" He roared at this. "Slim, you were drooling." He had the satisfaction of seeing her gaze slip for a moment and run over his body. He went instantly hard, surprising himself, for up until that point he'd only been teasing.

  She lifted her chin in that endearing yet annoying gesture of hers. "I have no idea why you're so amused about this," she snapped. "Just a moment ago you couldn't wait to get away from me."

  "No, just a moment ago we were kneeling over a miracle," he reminded her, his smile fading. "Over Abby and her new colt, and nothing is more real or grounding than that. It's precious, Zoe. Seeing life start before your very eyes, and you know it, too, I saw you. I saw your face. God, the way you looked at me… It made me feel that something was between us. Something amazing. I know you felt it, too, Zoe, don't even try to deny it."

  She said nothing, which was typical and frustrating, and suddenly he wasn't going to take it. "That's when you remembered you didn't like me, or th
at you didn't like the man you think I am, and it was over. Just like that, click, and you're back to unfeeling Zoe Martin. Even your eyes shuttered against me."

  She drew an uneven breath, but to her credit, she didn't run as he'd half expected.

  "We bring out the worst in each other," she said quietly.

  "And also the best." Hell, he had no idea where that statement came from. He didn't even know what it meant. He didn't want this thing between them any more than she did, so why then did he constantly push her for more?

  If he was falling, he was falling hard, and for a woman who had clearly been so hurt in her past she couldn't possibly return the feeling. But Ty had a will of iron. If falling for her was a mistake—which it was—then he simply wouldn't fall.

  No problem. He was unfallen. That easy.

  Straightening, he dropped his hands to his sides and turned from her, bone-weary. He'd been putting in long days at his ranch, then more hours at hers. And for the past two nights he'd been up sitting with Abby, waiting.

  "Where are you going?" She sounded startled that he was walking away from her.

  "I won't fight for your damn affection, Zoe. I won't even fight for your friendship anymore, I'm too tired. I have other things to spend my energies on—including saving your selfish pride over that ranch."

  Now she looked a little frightened. He hesitated, thinking she would stop him, but she didn't speak. Disgusted with the both of them, he shook his head and strode away.

  She followed him.

  He gave her a look that would have any of his hired hands quivering in their boots as he walked. "What?"

  "I…" Zoe couldn't form the words as she struggled to keep up with his fast pace. "We … we, ah, had a meeting last night. My sisters and I."

  "Did you?"

  "About the ranch."

  "Okay." Now he stopped, halfway between the house and his barn. The sun beat down on them. The water still beaded on his tanned chest, glistening, but it was all hard to enjoy when his face and voice were so distant.