Читать книгу Winning Over the Rancher - Mary Brady - Страница 11

BAYLOR GAVE HIS BROTHER a long stare. “We can’t hire her because she needs a job,” he said. Or because she’s good-looking, he thought.

“We can’t afford to turn a good option down for the same reason,” Lance drawled.

Baylor nodded and wondered if his brother knew the rest of his thoughts on KayLee Morgan.

“Two weeks,” Baylor said. “We’ll give her two weeks. That should be enough time to make a final decision.”

Seth approached, leaned on the doorjamb and gazed between Baylor and Lance. “She was good at facing us all like that and holding her own, answering all our questions.”

Lance snorted softly. “She seemed to look forward to the next question, like she’d be easy to work with.”

“Eager at least,” Seth added.

“Eager’s a great quality,” Baylor acknowledged to his brothers. “But it’s not enough. The first guy we interviewed was eager, and we know how that ended.”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out he was a crook, but you’re not putting KayLee in the crook category.”

“No, but I’m the one who’s going to be doing most of the work with her.”

“And you’ll be able to keep a close eye on her.” Seth flicked his eyebrows at Baylor and smirked toward Lance.

Lance grinned, but shook his head to silence Seth. They both knew. This wasn’t going to be easy no matter how it went down.

“This is business, guys. No matter what we think of her as an individual, it has to be a business deal. When the project is complete, you all can adopt her if you want.” He wouldn’t care. He’d be gone.

“We’ll have to trust you to give her a fair chance.” Seth must have been finished because he walked away.

Lance stared at Baylor for a response.

“It might not even be fair to give her a chance.” Baylor restacked the papers on the desk blotter.

“She’s good people, Baylor, and you know it.”

“And if we give her a two-week trial and she fails, it might spoil her chance of getting a job before her baby is born.”

“She’ll do a good job and we’ll keep her on.”

“If I didn’t think you had a chance of being right, I wouldn’t have called her back.”

Lance nodded, got up from the chair and followed in the direction Seth had gone. His boot heels clomped down the hall, through the mudroom and outside. His brothers had gone back to the never-ending string of chores necessary to keep a ranch running and the animals healthy.

Baylor spread the papers and sorted them into piles for filing. Now that he had made the decision, he was going to throw himself at the situation as if it were a worthy stallion needing some tender loving care to be a great stallion. Not that “tender loving” was anything he planned on aiming at K. L. Morgan.

Tempting, though.

Tempting. That was crazy thinking. If he let crazy thinking rule him, unintended consequences happened.

He had finished tucking away the last papers when he looked up to see K. L. Morgan standing in the doorway with her flimsy coat draped over one arm and her hands folded together in front of her as if in apology.

He rose quickly from the chair and made a gruff coughing sound to cover his laughter at his sorry old self.

“Come in,” he said when she didn’t enter the office.

She stepped inside. “I ruined whatever chance I had at making a great impression, didn’t I?”

He hadn’t realized how melodious her voice was, but in the small office, it made the air vibrate.

“Is your life ever dull?”

She shrugged and stepped up to the desk. “You’ll undoubtedly find out, so I might as well tell you, I met your Sheriff Potts.”

Baylor studied the molding around the ceiling, trying his best to bury a smile. Unintended consequences, he thought. “He called.”

“I’d hoped he wouldn’t snitch on me. Damn.”

He snapped his gaze to hers. “Don’t let my mother hear you say that word. Darn and heck are all right if you’re highly provoked, but damn, hell and crap are over the top. Have a seat, please.”

Radiating confidence and poise, she draped her coat over the back of the chair and sat down across the desk from him. He couldn’t deny his brother’s assessment that K. L. Morgan inspired admiration for her courage under fire—but that didn’t mean he had to be taken in by it. He scowled and retook his seat.

“Oh, darn.” She raised her brow in question.

He gave a slight head nod of approval and she curled her hands together on her lap. “How much did the sheriff tell you?”

“He said he found you and we should be expecting you soon.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And then he laughed.”

“How did he know I was coming here? I don’t remember telling him.” She thought for a moment. “When he left, I didn’t even know.”

“He knows people. That’s why he’s so good at his job and that’s a reflection on our judgment as well as yours.” He paused. He was about to tell this woman she could hold the family’s future in her hands, and Sheriff Potts’s positive assessment of her had made that decision easier to live with.

“He is so kind to just have laughed at me.” She studied her fingers for a moment. “Is it too late to start over?”

“Do you think it would help?”

Alarm spread across her face, and then when she realized he was chiding her, she smiled a smile as bright as a sunny day in the Bitterroot Mountains, and he felt that smile all the way down to the toes of his Sunday boots.

She relaxed her hands on her knees. “I think at this point, it would only muddy the waters.”

“My family thinks you’re the best choice for this project.”

“Okay.” She waited for him to explain.

“But they’ve left the choice up to me.”

“I realize I’m not what you expected and that it’s a stretch for you to consider me for the job, but if you do give it to me, I will give you more than you asked for.”

More than he asked for…

“I’m willing to go along with my family and give you a chance.” She sat up straighter and he continued. “Two weeks. After two weeks, if things aren’t working out, you would be paid for your time and, of course, we’d pay you for your designs.”

He watched her closely.

“You won’t be sorry.” Her words indicated her delight while her face showed her focus on the future.

“That’s what my family tells me.”

She nodded her head once. “Now tell me why your family puts so much stock in your opinion.”

Her green eyes, the color of leaves in the light of sunset and rimmed with dark lashes, were highlighted by the merest touch of makeup.

“Because I’m the youngest brother?”

She nodded again.

“Fair enough.” The Doyles knew so much more about her than she suspected. It seemed right she should know more about them. “My older brothers wanted no part of college. They were happy working the ranch and their wives were happy with their husbands and their lives. My parents could read the writing on the wall, but my brothers would rather ignore the signs the ranch was faltering.”

She listened as though she were gathering facts without passing judgment. He found himself liking KayLee Morgan more and more, at the same time telling himself it wasn’t his job to like her.

As he told her about his family sending him to Montana State University in Bozeman and why, she barely blinked.

“Wow,” she said when he was finished.

Her lips held the form of the last W as she explored the thoughts in her head, and it made him want to kiss those puckered lips—and to smack himself on the back of the head for thinking such a thought.

“So do you still want to work for us?”

“They have put a lot on you.” Deep concern dimmed the sparkle in her eyes.

“Someone has to take the reins and I can.”

She placed her palms on her knees and leaned forward. “Yes, I’d still like to do the job.”

He reached across the desk with one hand and when she put her soft hand in his, she gripped solidly.

“Welcome to the Shadow Range Eco Ranch project,” he said, and found himself sincerely meaning it.

Either he was a step closer to his dream and his quest, or he’d chased them out onto the far horizon. Whatever happened, he found himself wanting her to succeed for herself, as well as each and every Doyle.

“Now tell me what you think,” she said as she let go of his hand and sat back in the chair.

Baylor shifted. Tell her what he thought? That she’s hot or that he was already in trouble because he was beginning to see why his family wanted to hire and protect her?

“I like to think I’m an open-minded kind of person. I admit, your—”

“Pregnancy, sex, age?” She grinned.

“Once I realized you couldn’t be as young as you look, that was not even a consideration.

“As for your being female, you’ve met Holly, Amy and my mother and…they don’t balk at much.” An image of his missing sister pushed into his thoughts. She had one of her defiant looks on her face and her hands were balled into offensive fists. “And they’re tame compared to my sister, Crystal.”

He could see KayLee wanted to ask about Crystal, but he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet because he had nothing of substance to say. So he hurried on. “Your proposal offers the most support and oversight—with the possible exception of a period of time when you will be otherwise occupied. If you are as good as you say you are, I expect this job will go well.”

She gave a heavy sigh of relief and a warm smile that a part of him wanted to interpret as sexy.

“I expect the same. If I could, I’d like to look around a bit, see the place I proposed the first cabin be built.”

“Now?”

“The sun shines. Isn’t that when I’m supposed to make hay?”

K. L. Morgan kept surprising him with her understanding of the situation. She might work out better, though, if he could pretend she was the mid-forties man he had expected.

“Do you have warmer clothes?” he asked.

She glanced down at her blue dress. “I have different clothes. Warmer, probably not.”

“Boots?”

She lifted a foot with a shoe meant for a city street. “This is the best I’ve got. The boots I have are not the sort you’re talking about.”

“I’ll find a warmer coat for you and we’ll mostly stay in the truck.”

“Do you think Holly and Amy might be willing to advise me on wardrobe shopping?”

“I think Holly and Amy would do anything you asked them to do.”

She blinked at him as if she were having a hard time believing what he said.

“KayLee, this is the St. Adelbert Valley. The Doyle women probably already have a place in mind for you to live, a trip to Kalispell for supplies planned and a crib to lend you. Believe it or not, you have already won the esteem of our sheriff. Most of the people here in this valley will need no more than that to welcome you and offer you whatever help they can give you.”

She studied her fingers for a long moment and then shifted her scrutiny to him. “I knew I wasn’t in California anymore.”

“This will sound like some sort of a threat, and it could be. With the exception of a few ornery ones, the people here will believe in you quickly and be loyal.”

“Accept me first, and I get to decide whether or not I break their hearts? Warning taken. I’ll be careful with them.”

He nodded. “I’ll get you a coat.”

Baylor escaped the office and headed down the hallway toward the mudroom, which was located at the side entrance to the house.

Was that tears he had seen in her eyes? Give him a couple cows having difficult calvings and a runaway mule. Those things he could handle.

He searched the closet for a coat that was big enough to fit around KayLee, but the first two he considered would have swallowed her up.

Now that he had made the decision to hire her, even if it was temporary, he’d do what he could himself to help her. The two of them could finalize the plans, scout out materials and hire laborers. There were locals chomping at the bit to have gainful employment. Calving was nearly at an end, branding and spring clean up would soon be under control, and there would more idle hands around.

The job in Denver was a chance of a lifetime, a stepping-off point to launch him in the world outside the small valley where he’d spent most of his life. If K. L. Morgan could get this job done, she could set him free. He held up a green kid’s jacket. He was getting closer.

If she couldn’t get the job done, she could end up tying him to this valley until the next chance of a lifetime came up. Yep, two once-in-a-lifetime chances. As if that were going to happen.

The lead he had on Crystal hadn’t panned out yesterday, but that didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t. She was in Denver—that much he knew.

“How about this one?” Holly reached around him and pulled out a work jacket. “I wore it when I was pregnant with Katie about this time two years ago.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t even want to guess how she knew what he was searching for in the closet. Made him crazy when he tried to figure things like that out about Holly and Amy.

“So, is she in or out?” his dad asked from the doorway of the mudroom.

“She gets a chance to try, and she wants a look around.”

“Yippee!” Holly clapped her hands together once and sped away, no doubt off to tell the others.

“You don’t seem thrilled,” his dad said when Holly was out of earshot.

Baylor shrugged. “I’ll keep thrilled corralled up until we see how things go.”

“Fair ’nough.”

KAYLEE SLUMPED IN THE CHAIR. She should feel excited about this job, ecstatic even. All she felt right now was scared. She’d just promised to make a future for these people. This was more personal than any of the California projects had been. The good feelings must be on their way later.

She’d had things all mapped out in her mind even before she got here. She’d come to the valley, do the job, have a safe and snug place to raise her child for the first year or so, then move on and build her company…probably back in California.

Things had gotten complicated right off the bat, starting with the warm and fuzzy feelings she already had growing inside her regarding the people who lived in and around the town of St. Adelbert. The people at the Easy Breezy Inn had given her a room at ten o’clock in the morning without charging extra, so she could freshen up for her interview with the Doyle family. The gas station attendant at the self-service station had insisted on pumping her gas and washing her bug-spattered windshield and headlamps. That guy—Barry, he called himself—had worked really hard on those dried bugs.

Everyone here was eerily nice.

That gave her pause. Were they too nice? What if they were part of a cult or aliens from outer space?

Whoa! She stopped herself from thinking wild movie-making fantasies.

Worse, however, what if the time came for her to leave, and she still had no place to go, no prospective home? She could do it to her pregnant self, but could she force the itinerant life on a child?

And what if she didn’t want to leave the valley at all?

It had been easy letting go of California. When her husband died, her life there had simply evaporated.

She should have made better choices. One of their so-called friends had even accused her of being responsible for Chad’s death.

What if it had been her fault Chad was unhappy and, who knows, that he’d had a boating accident? She couldn’t really fault that friend too much. Some days she blamed herself.

“I’ll be everything you need.” She stroked her belly and let herself feel the joy and peace her child brought to mind.

Baylor appeared holding a practical, warm-looking jacket. She hoped he hadn’t overheard her. He already had enough doubts.

The heavy work jacket he held suspended on the tip of one finger summed everything up. The jacket was nothing she would have ever given a second look at when she lived in California.

Her life was never going to be the same.

When Baylor smiled at her, even though it was a reluctant smile, she found herself wanting to leap up and run into his arms…but she was so not flinging herself into anyone’s arms. It wasn’t going to happen, wasn’t even a good idea. She and Chad had flung themselves at each other and look where that got her.

“Hey.” She pointed at the jacket and put on a cheery face. “That seems as if it will do the trick.”

He held the jacket for her and she slipped inside its warmth. “Hmmm. This feels nice.”

“’Bout the time you get used to the cold, the weather will change and you’ll be wishing to have it back.” He gave her a serious if-you-stick-around-long-enough look.

She’d get used to the weather, or at least, he’d never know about it if she didn’t. All he was going to see from now on was the upbeat side of her, the confident side of her she had used in her sales pitch. She hugged the jacket around her and spun in a slow circle, trying to affect comedy. “Ah, if they could see me now.”

Another reluctant smile. He was so trying to be nice to her. “You mean the people in California wouldn’t appreciate your…ah…style?” he asked.

“Style?”

“Because, for the backside of Montana you look purty trendy.”

Yep, she thought, repeating the affirmative she’d already heard more than once in this state. Baylor Doyle was going to give her a chance, a harsh but fair one. Now, if she could live up to his and everyone else’s expectations… She shook off doubt and melancholy before they got a foothold. Upbeat. Stay upbeat.

“Très chic and ready to work.” And she felt better than she’d felt in a long time about anything except her baby, who at that moment seemed to leap to block a soccer goal or something equally emphatic. “Whoa!”

“Are you all right?” Baylor took a step toward her.

She held up one hand up and rubbed her lower ribs with the other. “Nothing to worry about. Sometimes the little one gives me a poke and it takes me by surprise, but I’m great. Better than great. Lead the way.”

He handed her a knitted cap, one like her grandmother might have made for her, with a fluffy yarn ball on top, and then he slid on his hat—a Stetson, that’s what they wore in one of Chad’s movies anyway.

She put on the hat he had given her and tugged it down until it pressed her hair snugly against her ears. Then he led her outside, where she got a spectacular view of the lay of the ranch buildings. To her left and back at the edge of a stand of pine trees sat a pair of log houses. His brothers’ houses, she assumed. Straight in front of her, but farther away, sat a barn and several out-buildings. Beyond the barn she could see corrals where horses were eating from a trough. Farther out were open snow-patched areas of what she supposed were grasslands, and of course, mountain peaks glistened in the distance.

Doyle land spread out beyond fifty-seven hundred acres. After leaving the rich farmland of southwestern Wisconsin that sold by the expensive acre and the precious square footage measured out in inches in Southern California, she wasn’t even sure she could conceptualize that much land owned by one family.

The seven cabins she would build for the Doyles would dovetail nicely with the two already there. Though the new ones would have more glass and decking, the existing ones had the charm of being more weathered and rustic-looking.

A cabins-in-the-woods kind of thing.

When they filled the cabins for the three to four prime months out of the year, they should do well.

“Less than a quarter mile beyond two small houses is where the cabins will be built,” Baylor said after she had spent several minutes gaping. “Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

Baylor held the passenger-side door and she climbed up into the warmth of the truck. Then he jogged around and jumped in the driver’s side, and when he did, the truck got even warmer inside. Hormones. Had to be hormones.

“Thanks for having the truck so cozy.”

“That would have been one of my brothers, most likely prodded by one wife or the other.”

“I knew I was going to like Amy and Holly.”

“They’re like sisters. It would be a shame for them to have to split up and go separate ways.”

“This project means a lot more than income to your family.”

“It does.”

He took a hard grip on the wheel as he steered away from the big ranch house. “Should I get in my car and run away before I get in to deeply?”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

The brim of his hat shadowed his features and she realized she really knew little about Montana and less about the Doyle family. She might have done it again—rushed into something without enough thought.

I’ll make it work.

“Hey—” she poked him on the hard muscle of his upper arm “—your Sheriff Potts saw me at my worst and he sent me back here instead of running me out of town. Give me a peek at what’s going on, I can take it.”

He nudged his hat back on his forehead as if it would help him think better.

“Ranching doesn’t support families the way it used to. Income has gone down, but more importantly the cost of living has gone up. We’ve been able to keep going because the largest part of the income stays in the family. Mostly we’re our own ranch hands. We hire on during the heaviest part of calving and when it’s time to shift cattle around to different feeding grounds. We let out some logging to a small local company—controlled, environmentally friendly logging that brings in a bit of income.”

“And that’s not enough.” She had asked for the truth and just because it was starting to scare her, she wasn’t going to back away.

“It was as long as there weren’t any kids’ futures to worry about.”

“So you decided to try for the tourist population.”

“We started a few years ago and it’s been popular. We’ve had a waiting list every season. At the Shadow Range we provide several things not everyone else this far out does. Satellite TV and internet, granted both are intermittent depending on the reception, but it’s there enough of the time to satisfy all but some of the teenagers. The houses have electricity, gas and indoor—”

“Plumbing? One of my favorites.”

His grin warmed her, a lot more than it should have.

“Then we have features most people’s homes don’t—fireplaces with an endless supply of wood on the porch, daily wildlife viewing and, although you might hear a train whistle in the distance from time to time, there isn’t even a whisper of highway or freeway traffic. And if you want it, you can have maid service and meals included.”

“Roughing it the way city people like it. I have to tell you, I’m one of them. Give me a good old pillow-top mattress and a dishwasher any day.” But she was finding out in detail she didn’t have to have either of those.

“We add horseback riding, fishing, guided trail walks and trips down the river on pontoon boats.”

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be a guest at the ranch. What would she want? A picture of Baylor and her floating down a lazy river in a pontoon boat resting in each other’s arms popped into her head. Her eyes sprang wide. She sat up and leaned forward as if interested in something outside the window. Talk about whoa.

“What are you looking at?”

“I was wondering…” She paused so she could quickly make something up because she sure as heck wasn’t going to tell him what she was thinking. “Does the nonranching part get to all of you?”

He was silent while he bounced the truck over the uneven road, out beyond where the two smaller houses sat and onto the edge of a small meadow.

“From time to time, but keeping the ranch for everyone’s future is more important than not washing someone’s dirty sheets. And we get to help the poor city folk get a glimpse of what a really rich life is like. You know, dirt under your fingernails, getting stiff from being in a saddle too long, sleeping out under the stars with the snakes.”

“You make it sound as nice here as I imagined it would. I might have to rent out one of the cabins we’re building—but there’d be no snakes for me, please.” She wondered what he’d say if he knew how little she was kidding about renting one of the cabins, reptiles or not.

“The wooded area over there…” He’d stopped the truck, and pointed out into the distance.

“Wait. Where do you put the tourists? Aren’t those two houses for Holly and Amy and their families?”

“In the spring, while Lance and Seth are busy calving and doing ranch work, Holly and Amy are busy packing up to move out of their homes and into the big house. We all live together in the late spring and s ummer. There are seven bedrooms and it’s, well, we’ll call it cozy.”

“It’s good you all like each other. Maybe we should build more cabins to start with and that might give Holly and Amy a break next spring.”

“If we build them all at once, you can invite all your California friends who are looking for a break from the crowd.”

Bam. A reality blast thrown in her face. All her friends?

It was bad enough to know most of her so-called friends had deserted her, but to have to admit it to a stranger—a customer—pointed out a far too dismal future. Blah.

BAYLOR WONDERED WHAT he said that made her face go all long and thoughtful, and then he reminded himself it didn’t matter.

He knew himself well enough to know KayLee Morgan could be dangerous territory. Dangerous because he couldn’t help himself. Rescuing damsels in distress had been his thing since he kept the bullies in grade school from picking on Abby Fairbanks when he was nine and she was twelve. But damsel rescuing had to take a second seat to this business deal. Rescuing this one could put his family’s welfare in jeopardy.

“Over there—” he pointed toward the far side of the meadow “—is where you propose to start the first cabin.”

She leaned closer to the windshield and peered at an isolated stand of pine and larch trees. “Perfect. We’ll need to set down the roads first so the equipment can be moved easily in and out.”

She reached for the door handle.

“Hang on. I’ll drive over and you can get a closer look. It gets muddy out there when the snow melts.”

She nodded. Her expression held a mixture of concentration and excitement. He wondered if he would have gotten that reaction from the other bidders.

Baylor realized she had a hand on her belly. She seemed to be speaking to her baby and that simple gesture made her seem totally invested in the project. At that moment, she seemed more like a partner than a vendor. He wasn’t sure whether that was bad or good.

Bad if it made him lose his objectivity, and good if it made her care more about his family’s future.

Suddenly, she seemed very attractive and not just because she was sexy. He stopped the truck. The heat must have been making him stupid. He needed fresh air and badly.

BAYLOR STOPPED THE TRUCK at the edge of the stream and leaped out, but KayLee climbed down before he could get around to help her. She didn’t need help, she couldn’t allow herself to need help, but she wanted to stand where one of the cabins would be built, feel the site, make sure it was as perfect as she had hoped it would be.

While Baylor rummaged around for something in the toolbox in the bed of the truck, she made her way across the uneven, somewhat icy terrain to the middle of the grouping of ponderosa pine trees. Their sweet scent filled the air and she inhaled deeply and let herself imagine.

She could see a cabin nestled between the largest trees where there was a natural space. There was enough access from the side of the lot away from the stream that only one small sapling might have to be removed to make way for the heavy equipment.

It was the perfect spot for a cabin, a home, her mountain home. She shook her head at the futility of that dream and swiped a rascal tear from the corner of her eye.

“What do you think?” Baylor spoke softly from behind her as if he knew he was intruding on the mood.

Upbeat, that’s all she’d show him, not tears. In fact when she wasn’t pregnant anymore, she vowed to never cry again for any reason.

“It’s perfect,” she said when she was sure her voice wouldn’t squeak or waver. “I’d put the cabin right here, offset from the middle.”

“That’s where me and my brothers would pitch a tent when we wanted a wilderness adventure and our mother thought we were too young to be too far away.”

The sound of his voice drew closer until she could feel the heat of his breath against the back of her neck. KayLee fought a sudden intense craving to have him touch her, put a hand on her waist—well, where she used to have a waist—or put his lips to her neck. Oh, heck and darn. She took a step away.

“This is a special place, and I think a cabin here would be great. We could call it the Whispering Winds Cabin because the wind swishes like a whisper through the pine needles.”

“Maybe not,” he said and chuckled.

“No?” Why not? Why was he laughing? Was he going to squash all her ideas?

He nudged her shoulder with his fingertip to get her attention. “It’s a fine name, but Whispering Winds is the name of the neighbor’s ranch. Thinking of names as you build them is a good idea, though. Cabin one, two, three, et cetera is kind of boring.”

She shifted to look directly into sky-blue eyes that studied her face. She dropped her gaze to keep him from reading her soul.

The sparkle of golden hair in the V of his cream-colored shirt beckoned her with a “come on and touch me.” She wanted to put her fingers in the V and loosen the rest of the buttons so she could press her palms into the middle of that soft hair, feel the ridge of muscle where his pecs bulged. She fought to keep her eyes from moving even lower and then with a hormone-balancing force of will brought her gaze back up to his face.

She smiled and shifted from one foot to the other. “You know…”

“What do I know?” He was amused and not embarrassed by her assessment.

“Besides the obvious handsomeness of your face, speaking from a Hollywood perspective, you have uncommonly nice individual features.”

“A Hollywood perspective?”

“I saw enough of the people my husband cast in films to know a great jaw and a sexy camera-friendly mouth when I see them.”

“Sexy, too?”

She parted her lips to speak again, but stopped when she realized she wanted to ask him to kiss her.

She stepped backward.

Ask him to kiss her? Yeah. That should send him fleeing back to the ranch house, where he could call the sheriff to toss her out of Montana for good.

But he didn’t look upset. He might even look…interested?

Not good.

They were both being silly, not just her.

Worse.

They had known each other only a few hours. She had an excuse—pregnancy.

She tried to put distance between them but he stuck to her side. When in the center of the clearing, she slipped on an icy patch and found the electric touch of his hand on her arm long enough to stabilize her—long enough to make her burn inside and out.

That’s it. A drastic intervention was called for.

“Thank you.” She stuck her hands in the pockets of the jacket. “Okay. All right. I want to be upfront about something so I can keep it from growing out of proportion.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Go on.”

“I’m attracted to you and I want you to know the pregnancy hormones racing around inside of my body are doing that to me. I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice guy who is perfectly attractive to most women.”

“But you aren’t most women?” He stepped closer, she was sure he did that to make her step farther away…and she did. She wanted to skitter away, but she didn’t do skittering very well these days.

“Unfortunately, I am most women, and right now, I could eat you up without even sitting down.”

He grinned. “This is turning out to be a very interesting day.”

“I’m afraid it’s not really me talking.”

“It’s the hormones?”

“Afraid so. I usually have more control than…”

“Than what?”

“I know you’re yanking my chain now, but I’ve been around pretty faces for years and I’ve always been able to keep a lid on feeling anything about any of them, because a pretty face is just that.”

“I’m a pretty face?”

She stepped closer to the stream. “Oh, you are such a pretty face.”

“And you find yourself helplessly attracted to me?” He took another step toward her.

“If you come any closer, I might have to defend all of us from me. I might seem to be a helpless, pregnant thing, but I have to tell you, I’m not.” She drew herself up tall and put fists to her hips to take up as much space as possible.

“Never entered my mind that you were.” He stopped and leaned against a convenient pine tree, letting her put some distance between them. “Helpless in any way.”

“I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I am so much less censored these days, but I thought if I got it out in the open I could enlist your help in keeping me from doing something we’d regret.”

He moved again, stalking unhurriedly toward her like a big cat after prey.

“Darlin’,” he said with an exaggerated drawl, “speak for yourself.”