Caroline Cross - The Rancher And The Nanny

He swallowed a curse. “No, I’m afraid not.”

She blinked in surprise, her long lashes brushing her translucent cheeks as all the joy drained from her face. “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded stilted. “I’ve got a meeting that night and I can’t miss it.”

“Oh,” she said again. She swallowed hard, turning away to once more stare down at her lap. “It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I—I didn’t really want to go anyway.”

It was clearly a lie. Yet try as he might, John couldn’t think how to address it—much less what he could say that would make things better. Feeling guilty and frustrated, he looked away from her still little face and pretended to be absorbed in the road in front of him.

They traveled the last half mile to the house in total silence. Pulling into the same spot where he’d parked earlier, he stopped the truck and turned off the engine. “I’ve got to get some stuff from the barn,” he said gruffly. He nodded toward the porch. “Why don’t you go on in? Have a quick snack and then you need to change into some play clothes.”

“What for?” she said dully.

“We need to run some salt licks up to the herd at Blue Ridge.”

She still didn’t look at him. “But…couldn’t I stay here? Please?”

He considered. It was a good thirty miles to the ridge round-trip. It would be dark by the time he got back. If something were to happen to her… He shook his head. “No.”

Silence. And then, with an air of utter dejection, she gave a faint sigh. “Okay.” Without another word, she opened the door and climbed out, sliding the last foot to the ground before nudging the door shut and heading for the porch. She looked very small and very much alone as she trudged along, her shoulders slumped, her feet dragging in her scuffed white shoes.

John watched until she disappeared inside the house. For a moment he sat motionless. Then he let loose a curse and slammed his fist against the dashboard. Damn it! She deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. There had to be something he could do, some way he could make things better—

There is, you sorry sonofabitch. The solution was here earlier asking for a job—remember?

The thought froze him in place. He started to deny it, but in the next moment all his earlier arguments against hiring Eve seemed to fade away, replaced by the image of Lissy’s sad little face. He sank back against the seat, his anger abruptly replaced by a sort of grim resignation.

Okay. So he didn’t particularly like Eve. What did it matter? It was Lissy’s happiness that was important. And it wasn’t as if he had other options. If having Eve around would make things better, he could handle his feelings—couldn’t he?

As for his unfortunate physical attraction to her… Big deal. It wasn’t his way to let his feelings cloud his judgment, or his desires dictate his actions. And he certainly wasn’t a stranger to deprivation. He’d lived most of his life without the sort of things—such as a home or family or even a close companion—that other people took for granted. He could handle himself.

As quickly as that, his mind was made up. For Lissy’s sake, he’d do it.

And to hell with his gut, which was already warning him that Ms. Chandler was going to be nothing but trouble.

And that he was making a big mistake.

“You ready?”

Poised in the open doorway of her childhood home, Eve considered John and his less-than-gracious greeting. He looked very big as he stood backlit by afternoon sunshine, the breeze ruffling the navy T-shirt tucked into his close-fitting jeans.

Very big, very remote—and far from friendly. The old adage “Be careful what you wish for” played through her head. Three days ago she’d been distraught when he’d refused to give her a job.

Now, face-to-face with him again, she felt distraught that he had.

A faint, self-mocking sensation curled through her. Clearly this was the time to remind herself that if not for John’s change of heart, she’d be on a Greyhound bus right now bound for who knew where. And that no matter how much she might wish he were a different kind of man—more easygoing, more forthcoming, less attractive, less blatantly male—she owed him for giving her a chance.

“Yes,” she said pleasantly. “I’m ready. And I really appreciate you coming to get me.”

“No problem. That your stuff?” With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the matched set of luggage and the large cardboard box lined up on the porch to his left.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Without another word he walked over, picked up a suitcase in either hand and headed for his truck.

Eve watched him stride away, telling herself that he was doing her a favor with his brusque, businesslike manner. Because, for reasons she was sure were solely attributable to some obscure facet of male-female chemistry, she had to admit that after all these years simply looking at him still made her a little breathless. She didn’t want to think how she’d react if he ever displayed the least bit of charm.

Not that there appeared to be any chance of that. For which she was extremely grateful, she told herself firmly, forcing herself to look away from his retreating back. She needed this job. It would be the height of folly to let some juvenile attraction get in the way.

It was just hard to remember when John’s presence was so unsettling. But then, she supposed in a way she owed him for that, too, since her extreme awareness of him seemed to overshadow everything, even her imminent departure from her childhood home.

She turned and took one last look at the familiar entry, the broad staircase, the living room that was never used, the long hall that led to the family room that was.

It had been a good place to grow up. Yet she wasn’t sorry to leave. Being here alone the past few weeks had made her realize that without her grandfather, the ranch was no longer her home.

She settled the strap of her purse on her shoulder and smoothed her suede vest into place over her white, open-neck shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Then she calmly pushed in the lock and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her. She was just in time as John came up the stairs again.

He nodded at the single remaining suitcase as he reached for the cardboard box. “You think you could grab that?” He straightened without any sign of strain, although Eve knew how heavy the box was since she’d needed help carrying it outside.

“Of course.”

“Then let’s go. I need to pick up Lissy and get back to work.” He turned on his heel and headed back the way he’d come.

All right. So maybe he was making it difficult to be grateful. She still wasn’t going to let him get to her. Chin up, she set out after him, approaching just as he finished setting the box in the bed of the truck. He turned but didn’t say anything, merely reached for the suitcase. In the second before it occurred to her to let go, his hand pressed firmly against hers.

It was big, hard and warm, and Eve felt the contact clear to her toes. Startled, she jerked away, her gaze shooting to John’s face as she wondered if he’d felt it, too.

If he had, it didn’t show. His glorious blue eyes were hooded, his strong, masculine face expressionless as he gazed down at her. With a faint shock, she realized how close he was. Despite the breeze, she could feel the heat roll off of him, carrying with it the faint scent of soap and sweat. And she could see the beard that shadowed his smoothly shaven cheeks, as well as the faint lines that bracketed each side of his chiseled mouth.

Her own mouth suddenly felt desert dry. And still she continued to stare at him, riveted by the sensual curve of his lips—

He abruptly turned away, tossing the bag in the truck with a thump. Leaning over, he snagged an elastic cross tie and secured it across her belongings. Then he straightened, walked the few feet to the passenger door and jerked it open. Leveling a blue-eyed stare at her, he rocked back on his heels. “You getting in or not?”

Eve sucked in a breath. Remember. You can handle this—no matter how he behaves. “Of course.” Deliberately taking her time, she strolled over and climbed unhurriedly into the cab. Looking out at John, she smiled her most gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He slammed the door, walked around and climbed in on the driver’s side. Neither of them spoke as he started the truck and put it in gear.

Eve stared fixedly outside, watching the familiar landscape roll by. The sky was a vast expanse of cloudless blue that seemed to go on forever. On the far horizon, the mountains rose in shades of gray and plum, their jagged peaks frosted with snow. Closer in, a few head of cattle grazed, all that was left of the once vast Chandler herd.

Regret rocked through her. It came despite her confidence that the ranch would prosper again; the Texas consortium that had bought it had deep pockets and a good reputation. Nor did it seem to matter that in addition to making one year’s guaranteed employment for the handful of loyal hands who’d opted to stay on a condition of the sale, she’d also seen to it that they received every dime of their back pay, the best she could do under the circumstances.

She just wished she knew what had prompted her grandfather to make that first risky investment. Or why, when things started to go sour, he hadn’t simply accepted his losses instead of stubbornly throwing good money after bad.

She swallowed a sigh. If only she’d paid more attention, instead of blithely assuming that everything was all right. If only she’d come home last spring, instead of letting Granddad convince her the timing was bad. If only she’d behaved more responsibly, he might have felt he could confide in her, instead of believing he had to protect her the way he always had.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were broke? That you had to sell the ranch?” John asked abruptly.

The question caught her off-guard. Her stomach twisted even as she gamely raised her chin. “Whatever makes you think that?”

“Don’t try to snow me, Eve. I’d already heard some rumors. After you gave me that story about needing a ride today because you were ‘between cars,’ I got to thinking. I called Eldon Taylor and he filled me in.”

Eldon Taylor was the president of Lander Savings and Loan. Eve had never particularly liked him, but until now she’d always thought he was discreet. “He had no right,” she said woodenly.

“Maybe not. But the point is, he did.” They rattled over the last cattle guard, then drove beneath the carved wooden arch that marked the ranch entrance. After checking for other traffic, John pulled out on the sparsely traveled two-lane highway and accelerated. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Unlike Mr. Taylor, I didn’t think it was any of your business,” she said coolly. “I don’t recall asking you for a loan. Or a handout.” She glanced challengingly at him. “Or do you make everyone who works for you fill out a financial statement?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I’m not entrusting ‘everyone’ with my daughter. I’m entrusting you. I think that entitles me to ask a few questions.”

As much as it rankled, Eve had to concede he had a point. “All right. What is it you want to know?”

“I thought you had a trust fund, money that came from your parents.”

“That’s right.”

“What happened? You blow through it already?”

Before, she’d only suspected he thought she was a spoiled brat. Now she knew. Yet she was darned if she’d defend herself. Not now, and not to him. She shrugged. “As a matter of fact, I did. But don’t worry. I swear I won’t steal your silver or anything. I’m not that desperate. Yet.”