Their Little Cowgirl Page 8

  She did her best to keep her mind on what they were doing—going to see an animal in the barn. Nothing sensual about that.

  Yet when Steven stopped beside the pen where the calf lay against its mother, when he reached down and stroked it, murmuring softly, Jackie had never seen anything so gentle and touching.

  "Just an animal?" she asked.

  He shrugged. "Nature is fascinating," he admitted. And he took her hand and held it out toward the animals. "She's stopped fretting now that she has him back and he's all right. You can touch now, and she won't mind."

  Jackie let her fingers sink into the thick pelt of the calf. "He's so warm," she said with wonder.

  "New life," Steven said. "It's miraculous, isn't it?"

  She suddenly looked up from her preoccupation with the calf. "How did it feel when you first held Suzy, when she was new?"

  He gazed directly into her eyes, and suddenly Jackie remembered that his wife had died when his child had been born. "I'm sorry. Don't answer that. It was an insensitive question."

  "It was a natural question. And yes, I'm not sure I was really in control of my emotions that day. But later…later I marveled at how tiny yet strong and vital she seemed. I fell in love from the first. I wanted to protect her in the worst way, and maybe losing her mother only made the desire to protect her that much stronger."

  "Was your wife…was she a rancher by birth?"

  "Actually, she was, but she never liked the life."

  But she understood it, Jackie thought. "I'm sorry about today," she said.

  "It's all right," he told her. "You were just responding to your emotions. Don't do it again," he told her, and he helped her to her feet and silently led her back to the house.

  When they went inside, he didn't let go of her but walked her to her door—as if to make sure that she was locked tightly inside her room, where she couldn't make any dangerous mistakes.

  For long seconds he stared down into her eyes. "I've never seen a woman with such delicate skin," he said, and then blinked as if he had surprised himself. "The elements here wouldn't be kind to you."

  She nodded. "I've always had to be careful in the sun, because I burn. And Steven?"

  He waited.

  "About this afternoon. I won't do anything like that again," she said softly just before she closed the door. But she wasn't sure she was talking about the incident with the calf. Steven Rollins stirred her. Every time she looked at him, she felt too much, whether it be good or bad. That couldn't go on.

  She passed the mirror on her way to bed and glanced at herself. Her eyes looked somehow luminous in a way they never had before—dreamy, some might say, and she had never been a dreamy kind of person. She had always been the nurturer, the fixer, trying to make things right with her father, with her mother, sometimes with Parris.

  "Even with a sad cow," she mused, realizing that she had been at it again. Fixing things.

  "Well, that's who I am, after all," she said, and she sat down and pulled out some paperwork that Parris had e-mailed to her that day. Two more donors were getting cold feet.

  Jackie took out her cell phone and called them. She fixed things. Now if she could only fix things so that she and Steven Rollins weren't constantly butting heads. Or if only she could stop thinking of him as a very desirable man.

  "Well, time will heal that," she told herself. "Today is living proof that I don't belong here. From now on, I'm going to concentrate exclusively on Suzy and forget that the man even exists."

  "Did you hear that?" Merry asked herself, gazing into the cell phone from which she heard Jackie's words as she uttered them. "She apparently can't wait to get away. She wants to forget that Steven even exists. What if she succeeds?"

  She frowned and punched the off button, watching as Jackie's features faded away.

  "Well, that's just too bad. Jackie can't succeed, because if she does, I fail. I have got to make sure that she remains aware of Steven as a man. Very aware. And I know just how to do it, too."

  Chapter Eight

  When Steven came into the house for lunch the next day, Jackie was down on the floor, on her stomach, building a tower of blocks. Suzy sat on Charlotte's lap and watched her.

  "All set," Jackie said, and smiled at Suzy.

  Charlotte let Suzy go, and she tottered over to the tower.

  "Uh," she said as she swatted at the red, blue and yellow tower. Blocks flew everywhere with a mad clatter.

  Suzy laughed and patted her hands together.

  "Oh, you are so clever," Jackie declared, smiling at the child and pulling her close for a cuddle. Suzy lifted her lips for a quick kiss, then grunted, pointing to the blocks.

  "Again?" Jackie asked with a laugh.

  "Gen," Suzy agreed.

  "You're spoiling her rotten," Charlotte drawled, but she didn't seem all that upset. In the past, Charlotte would have exclaimed at the mess or worried that a block might break something, even though they never did.

  "She's unspoilable," Jackie declared. "Aren't you, pumpkin?" she asked, using Steven's pet name for his child. A quick stab of fear—and something else—hit him. He shoved it away. Jackie was here for such a short time, and she was trying so hard to fit in. He had a feeling that after yesterday's incident she wouldn't go near the rest of the ranch unless he gave her the okay.

  He wondered if he hadn't been too harsh on her, but no. The memory of Jackie falling back and that lethal hoof aiming for her head still made him want to double over with fear. He didn't want to examine that fear too closely, either.

  "A natural reaction to anyone in danger," he muttered to himself.

  "What?" Both Jackie and Charlotte turned around, noticing him for the first time.

  Oh yeah, like he was going to tell them what he had been thinking about.

  "Are you teaching my daughter how to break things?" he asked, with a mock accusing look.

  Jackie gave a laugh of satisfaction, a sound that was pure music. "There's no teaching involved. She's a natural, and very good at it, too. You should be proud of her. I'll bet she'll learn how to take a cow or a calf or a bull—or whatever it is that you work with—down with very little effort."

  He grinned. "I think we'll start her on calves. Little ones made of pink terry cloth and stuffed with cotton. A bull would be a bit much for a one-year-old, even one as talented as Suzy Q. Come give daddy a hug, pumpkin." And Suzy left Jackie and toddled to him with her arms outstretched. Love and gratitude filled his heart, just as it had every day since she'd been born.

  He looked at Jackie and saw the longing in her eyes. He remembered how she had called Suzy her baby and how they both realized that this was only a temporary arrangement—one that would be over forever once it ended.

  "You're good with her," he acknowledged, and returned his daughter to Jackie's arms.

  The lady lifted one delicate shoulder as she placed her cheek against Suzy's. "She's a sweetheart. Any woman would be good with her."

  Yes, but this woman had shared her genes with Suzy. He stared at the two of them, their blue eyes so similar, their dark hair so alike. He wasn't sure, but he thought they might even have the same smile.

  "Smile," he almost said to Jackie, just so he could check. Or maybe because she lit up so radiantly when she smiled.

  "We brought in a new mare today," he said, instead. "Got her from Ned Battleman. She's very gentle, maybe even a little shy. Would you ladies like to see her?"

  Charlotte gave him a look. "I been looking at horses and men who raise horses all my life. You bring in a trapeze artist or a NASCAR driver or even an interior decorator, I'll come look. A horse just doesn't interest me all that much. I'm taking a bubble bath and soaking my feet."

  And she stalked off.

  Jackie blinked. "I thought Charlotte liked ranches and ranchers and horses."

  "She does," Steven said with a smile. "She just used to date Ned Battleman until they had a falling out. I'm not sure what it was about, but she's had nothing to do wit
h him since. Charlotte will be out to look at the horse in her own sweet time, preferably when no one can catch her cooing at it. You game?"

  "Yes, but…" Jackie gazed down at Suzy, who had tired herself out and was now half-asleep on Jackie's shoulder.

  "We'll go tuck her in," he whispered. "I'll take the monitor with me, so Charlotte can have her bath. If Suzy so much as blows a bubble in her sleep, we'll be back in a flash."

  Jackie gave a nod. "Let's go."

  "Well, that's more like it," Merry whispered to herself. "A horse. A horse could be useful. I can't tell people what to do. The restrictions Lissa has placed on me forbid it, but I might be able to whisper to a horse."

  She studied the visions on the screen of the cell phone.

  "It won't exactly be easy, but I might as well give it a try."

  She clicked the cell phone shut.

  "After all, what do I have to lose?" She started to answer her own question, then thought better of it.

  It was better not to even think about some things. If a person thought too long and hard, they might get frightened and never take action of any kind.

  And she had to take action.

  In the end, it wouldn't hurt Jackie and Steven, anyway.

  Jackie tried not to think about how nervous she was. She hadn't actually ever been near a horse. She had certainly never ridden on one, and she didn't want to look stupid or awkward. Steven already called her a city girl, which was only the truth. She didn't want him to think she was completely inept.

  "Which is just completely stupid," Jackie muttered as she went upstairs and pulled on her new boots. Why should she care what Steven thought of her?

  Just because he had been concerned about her when he thought the cow was going to kick her? Just because he didn't care if every man on the ranch caught him cooing to his baby? Just because he made a point of making all his employees feel like family? What did those things matter? He was still a man, and one who had declared that he had a certain disdain for a relationship with a woman.

  "So what? You're not going to have a relationship with him," Jackie told herself. "He's just taking you to meet a horse. And you are going to learn something." Surely she couldn't do any worse than she had with the knitting. She glanced down at the growing yellow cloud of knitted yarn she had produced. It certainly wasn't very shapely, but she just couldn't give up.

  And she wouldn't give up here, either, no matter how scared she was of a very big animal with very big teeth.

  Jackie pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, plopped a white baseball cap on her head, took a deep breath and set off to learn more about Suzy and Steven's world.

  She was marching so determinedly that she almost didn't see Steven, who was outside on the porch, lounging against the wall of the house. He had his ankles crossed and his hat tipped down to protect him from the sun.

  "Whoa," he said, in a low soothing voice. "Over here. She's not in the barn. We've got her in the far corral right now."

  Jackie turned and faced the corral in question. A milky white horse was delicately walking around, tossing her head, her mane flowing proudly about her.

  "Oh, she is beautiful," Jackie couldn't help declaring. "Steven, I don't know one little thing about horses. You know that, right?"

  He gave her a small grin. "I'll bet you know something."

  She lifted one brow. "I know you ride them and that they have an interesting history with man, but…you know what I mean. I don't have any firsthand knowledge."

  "I didn't expect you to. It's not a sin."

  She nodded and gave him a slight smile. "Thank you. That's probably saying a lot coming from a rancher. My point is that even though I don't know much about horses, even I can tell that this one is special. Why did that man, that Ned you were talking about, get rid of her?"

  Steven shrugged. "She's barren."

  "And yet you bought her."

  "She's gentle. I needed a gentle horse. For Suzy."

  But Suzy wouldn't be old enough to ride this horse for a long time. Jackie had the strangest suspicion that Steven had brought the horse here now because he had a horse-ignorant guest in his home. She wouldn't say that, though. He would surely deny it, and maybe it wasn't the truth, after all.

  "Anyway, she's very lovely. Can we go closer?"

  "Absolutely. The boys and I have all been over to Ned's and we've ridden her. She's as gentle as a horse gets. You couldn't ask for a better horse to initiate you into the fold."

  "Fold?" Jackie frowned, confused.

  "The members of the I Love Horses society," Steven whispered. "It's a very select group. Membership is practically a requirement for anyone visiting a ranch."

  "Ah, I see. Is there a secret handshake?"

  "Nope. Just have to give the horses a chance to win your heart. Come here. I'll show you."

  He led her to the corral and pulled back the gate, letting the two of them inside before he shut it again. "Now we're going to walk up to her real slowly, let her catch your scent and get used to it."

  Steven took Jackie's hand and began walking toward the horse, whispering softly. His palm was warm against Jackie's, his touch commanding. She struggled to keep her reaction to him at bay. There was something about this man—about the sensation of having her skin against his, about the way he soothed the horse—that made her want to lean close to him. She stopped herself.

  "Look, she's studying you. She's fascinated," he said.

  And yes, when Jackie looked into the horse's intelligent eyes, she felt an instant sense of communion.

  She and Steven moved closer, until he was standing next to the horse and she was facing it.

  "What's her name?" Jackie whispered.

  "Shiloh."

  "It's a pretty name. Hello, Shiloh," and Jackie took one step closer.

  At that moment, a breeze drifted across the heretofore breezeless sky. For a moment, Jackie felt disoriented. She almost thought she heard something, something that hadn't come from Steven or Shiloh.

  Ridiculous, she thought, but Shiloh was suddenly dancing around, her ears twitching.

  The breeze drifted through again.

  "What the heck?" Steven said, as Shiloh began to whinny and roll her eyes. She bucked a bit and he reached out a hand.

  "It's okay, girl. What's wrong?" he asked.

  And then the breeze came again, more distinct this time, with more vigor and sound.

  Shiloh's ears twitched very hard and she started to swing in a circle, ramming her body hard against Steven's and knocking him in a small arc across the space that separated him from Jackie.

  Jackie saw the movement as if it were happening in slow motion. Shiloh's huge body connected with a thud against Steven's shoulder. She heard the sickening sound of his flesh being hammered, and saw his body being hurled across the dirt of the corral.

  He landed against her and, as she fell back, he caught at her, looping his arms around her. Curling her into him as the momentum of Shiloh's push hurled them to the ground, he protected Jackie from the fall, twisting his body and taking the hard pounding of the impact himself.

  Jackie thought she saw him wince slightly, but he quickly recovered. The horse had retreated to the other end of the corral, and Steven immediately began running his hands over Jackie, sliding his palms from her arms to her legs.

  "Are you all right?" he whispered urgently.

  She couldn't speak at first.

  "Jackie, talk to me," he commanded. "Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?"

  It didn't hurt, but having him touch her this way, lying against him like this, was overwhelming. He was all warm male, wrapped around her, taking command of her, touching her gently.

  "Jackie?" Deep concern laced his voice. She knew his sense of responsibility and she didn't want to cause him to worry.

  "I'm…okay," she somehow managed to say. "Really."

  "Good." And to her surprise, he got up, scooped her into his arms and carried her from the corral, setting her on her fee
t only after they were outside the corral. But he was frowning.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, and she gently touched his shoulder. He didn't make a sound, but she felt him flinch.

  "Come on, I'm going to wrap that for you," she said. "Right now."

  "No, later," he said.

  "Steven…"

  He turned to face her. "Jackie, I don't know what happened back there. I swear to you that I've never seen Shiloh act like that, and I've seen her at Ned's a thousand times over the years."

  "I believe you," she said solemnly and sincerely.

  "Why should you? I've been mean as sin to you since you came here."

  "You've tried to be mean. You're not always very good at it, though."

  He raised his brows at her. "Are you saying I'm soft?"

  She reached out and felt his very hard muscle. "Inside, I think you are. A bit," she conceded. "You don't do mean very well. At least not for long. And you love your daughter far too much to hide the caring part of you. So yes, I believe you about Shiloh."

  "Doesn't change things. I wanted you to learn that a horse doesn't have to be a big, scary creature. I wanted you to at least leave here knowing that Suzy would have a fulfilling time growing up on a ranch. I bought Shiloh for the two of you."

  Tears clogged Jackie's throat. She managed to nod somehow and keep the tears from moving any farther up the line to her eyes. "Thank you," she finally managed to say.

  "But I can't let Shiloh near you now, and I don't want you to leave here without having at least one experience of riding a horse."

  "Sure you can. It's okay."

  "It's not okay. I'm a rancher, dammit. My daughter will grow up on a ranch, and you will be the mother of a rancher. I don't want you to worry that some horse is going to trample her."

  "I won't." But her voice wasn't as strong as she would have liked. "I believe you'll protect her."

  "And I want a picture of you on a horse, so that she can see it," he said.

  Oh gosh, those darn tears. They were going to mist her eyes for sure now, she thought, swiping them away.

  "Will you?" he asked gently.