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She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying to behave as if she wasn’t acutely aware of his seminakedness. It wasn’t easy to do, particularly when an unwanted ribbon of heat curled through her as he rubbed the towel down his neck and over the sculpted contours of his chest. “I had lunch with Chrissy Abrams last week,” she began, ordering herself to concentrate. “She told me that you have a seven-year-old daughter who recently came to live with you. And that you’ve been trying since summer to find somebody to look after her.”
“So?”
“So I’d like the job.”
He went absolutely still, and then a faint smile curved his mouth. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. No, I’m not.”
The smile faded. He gave her a long, penetrating look. “Why would you want to do that?”
She’d known he was bound to ask and she was ready. Keeping her eyes steady on his face, she said with a lightness she didn’t feel, “Because Lander is my home. I’ve missed it and I’d like to stay in the area. And now that I’ve sold the ranch, I need something to do.”
“And you think working for me is it?” His face hardened and he slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so, Eve.”
Even though she’d suspected it was coming, his answer was crushing. She swallowed. “Why not?”
He tossed the towel onto the counter and headed for the dryer, where he retrieved a clean blue T-shirt several shades lighter than his eyes. Frowning, he peeled off a small white lace-edged sock that clung to it, tossing the stocking onto the washer top. He pulled on the shirt and strolled back toward the sink, stuffing the tail into his jeans as he went. “Let’s just say I don’t think you’re the right woman for the job.”
“But I am.” She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “I’m here, I’m available, I know my way around a ranch and I’m very, very good with kids.”
He leaned back against the counter, looking singularly unconvinced. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. Chrissy apparently didn’t tell you that I need somebody who’s willing to live in.”
“Actually, she did.”
His glorious blue eyes narrowed slightly. “And that’s all right with you?”
Clearly now was not the time to admit it was the prospect of living with him that had made her exhaust every possibility of other employment first. “Yes.”
“Well, it’s not with me. This’ll probably come as a shock to you, princess,” his voice took on a distinctly sarcastic tone, “but I need somebody who can do more than just keep Lissy company. I don’t have either a cook or a maid, so I’m looking for someone who can run a house, too.”
She absolutely was not going to lose her temper. Still, she couldn’t keep the tartness out of her own voice as she answered. “I think I can handle it, John. I know how to cook and clean. More importantly, as I understand it, your daughter’s not having the easiest time fitting in at school—” she saw his mouth tighten and knew she was moving into dangerous territory “—and I think I can help.”
“Chrissy Abrams talks too much,” he said flatly.
“Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have something unique to offer. I was just a little older than your daughter when I lost my parents and came to live with Granddad. I know what it’s like to be uprooted, to lose one way of life and make the adjustment to another.”
He shook his head. “Even if you have more moves than Mary Poppins, the answer is still no, Eve.”
“But—” For one reckless moment she nearly blurted out the truth. Please. I need this job. I’ve sold everything of value I can, I’ve got less than three hundred dollars to my name and in four days I’ll be homeless—
“I’m sorry.” John coolly interrupted her frantic thoughts. “But it just wouldn’t work.”
The finality in his voice was unmistakable. Like a slap in the face, it brought Eve to her senses. A shiver went through her as she realized just how close she’d come to begging for his help and shaming her grandfather’s memory.
Even so, she couldn’t stop the hot wash of tears that prickled her eyes as her last hope died. She glanced quickly away and blinked hard, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. “I see.”
It would be all right, she told herself fiercely. This was merely another setback, not the end of the road. Something was bound to turn up. The important thing now was not to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had by coming here.
She swallowed again. Raising her chin, she forced herself to face him. “Well.” She managed a smile. “I guess I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She felt her lower lip start to tremble and glanced blindly at her watch. “Then I’d better let you go, or you’ll be late.”
To her relief, he shifted his gaze to his own wristwatch and she seized the opportunity to turn away. Although she suddenly wanted nothing more than to escape, she forced herself to stroll toward the door. Summoning up another surface smile, she glanced over her shoulder. “It was nice seeing you again, John.”
He nodded, his expression impossible to read. “You, too.”
“I hope you find someone soon.”
“Sure.”
And then she was out the door and crossing the porch. She made her way to her car, her steps deliberately measured. Climbing in, she turned the key she’d left in the ignition, backed out carefully and pulled onto the ranch driveway, resisting the urge to speed.
It wasn’t until she reached the highway that she could no longer ignore the way her hands were shaking. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she pulled over and stopped the car, struggling to yank on the emergency brake as the shaking spread.
Stubbornly, she again tried to tell herself that everything was going to be all right.
Except that deep down, she no longer believed it.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. A single tear slid down her face as she wondered what she was going to do now.
Two
The pickup rattled over the cattle guard with a muted thump of its heavy-duty tires.
Slowing the vehicle as he reached the highway, John turned to the left, pulled over onto the shoulder and braked. Squinting into the sun, he looked toward the west and quickly spotted the distinctive yellow school bus still well off in the distance.
He gave a sigh of relief, glad that he wasn’t late. Rolling down his window, he switched off the pickup’s engine and settled back to wait, aware, as he felt the tension in his shoulders, that he was strung tighter than seven feet of barbwire on an eight-foot section of fence.
He knew exactly who was to blame.
Although he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to think about her, his thoughts zeroed in on Eve. You could have knocked him over with a feather when he’d pulled into the yard and seen her. After all these years, she was still as blond and beautiful as ever. Not to mention as self-assured. What was it she’d said about her job qualifications?
Oh, yeah. I think I have something unique to offer.
Well, she sure as hell was right about that. And for all he knew, she also wasn’t half bad when it came to taking care of kids.
His mouth twisted caustically. He wasn’t a man to hold a grudge but he wasn’t a fool, either. He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d acted toward him all those years ago, before she’d left for her fancy college. Slim and long-legged, with golden skin, clear gray eyes and the straightest, whitest teeth he’d ever seen, at seventeen she’d been an absolute charmer—with everyone but him.
Since there had never been anything wrong with his ego, he’d known damn well he wasn’t without a certain appeal of his own. For whatever reason—his size, the innate aloofness that gave him an air of being hard to get, the fact that he was an orphan—women had been drawn to him since his early teens.
But not the lovely Ms. Chandler. She’d taken an obvious dislike to him at first sight. There had been no sunny smiles, none of the warmth or practical jokes or wry teasing she bestowed on the rest of the hands. Instead, although always faultlessly polite, she’d treated him as if he smelled bad.
He sure as hell hadn’t appreciated her attitude. But he had needed the job, so he’d sucked it in and done his best to ignore her. He’d told himself she was nothing more than a kid. And that she was actually doing him a favor, since he’d known that Max Chandler would fire him in a second if he showed the slightest interest in her.
Still, it had rankled. And for all that he’d never let on, it hadn’t been long before he’d itched to take her down a peg and wipe that superior look off her pretty face. Making matters worse, on some level he’d known that the urge sprang not from a need for respect or revenge but because he wanted her. He’d wanted to thrust his hands in her silky blond hair and taste her smooth pink mouth. He’d wanted to feel her slim, golden body under his. He’d wanted to touch her all over and make her cry out his name.
Spoiled or not, she’d made him ache.
Which was all water under the bridge, he reminded himself now. Sure, she still looked damn good, maybe even better than before. And yeah, there was still something about her—the husky timbre of her voice, the graceful way she moved, the silky-soft look of her hair and skin—that seemed to go straight to his groin and play hell with the fit of his jeans. But as for her suggestion that she come to work for him…
John’s expression turned cynical. No matter how much he needed the help, or how appealing the thought of being Eve’s boss, he had no intention of indulging the whims of the Rocking C’s patrician princess.
She was all wrong for the job, for one thing. He needed someone who would take care of practical matters without caring if she mussed her hair. And that someone had to be warm, grounded and nurturing, not a spoiled social butterfly. What’s more, she had to be willing to stick around longer than it took for a coat of nail polish to dry.
When it came to Eve, he especially doubted her staying power. She could talk all she wanted about how she’d missed home and wanted to remain in the area, but he was sure it wouldn’t be very long before she changed her mind. After all, what could Lander offer compared to New York or London or Paris? And why would she suddenly feel the need for a job, when she’d spent the past few years as a lady of leisure?
Unless… He shifted, feeling a trace uneasy. He’d heard rumors a few months back that Max Chandler was in financial trouble. At the time, he’d been too preoccupied with the discovery that he had a daughter to pay much attention. When he had bothered to think about it, he’d just assumed the gossips must be wrong. Although rising expenses and a downward trend in the price of cattle had bankrupted a lot of spreads over the past few years, he couldn’t believe anyone as shrewd as Max would allow things to get out of hand. And yet, if he had, that might explain Eve’s surprising desire for employment.
The sound of squealing brakes interrupted his speculations. Looking up, he saw the school bus had finally arrived. As he watched, the hinged stop sign swung out and the red and yellow warning lights flashed on. With a swoosh of escaping air, the door folded back and Lissy appeared.
John’s heart squeezed as he took her in. She was barely bigger than a minute, with her skinny arms, pale little face and big blue eyes. And though her outfit was hardly stylish—he winced a little at the orange sweater, red-plaid skirt that fell to midcalf and the pink frilly socks with the white patent leather mary-janes—he didn’t care. She was his daughter, his flesh and blood. He felt a rush of emotion—love, awe, tenderness—so strong, it was almost painful.
Not that it mattered, he was quick to remind himself as their gazes met and she sent him a brief, uncertain smile before glancing away. No matter how strongly he felt about being a father, he and his daughter were still strangers. Her mother—a woman he barely remembered—had made sure of that.
John’s jaw tightened. He still didn’t understand why Elaine hadn’t come to him when she found out she was pregnant. Granted, the handful of times they’d spent together had been more a series of one-night stands than an actual affair. And by insisting on using protection, he had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a commitment.
But if she had just sought him out, told him that something had gone wrong and that she was carrying his child, he would have married her in an instant. He was a man who took care of his obligations.
Instead, she’d remained silent, even when she fell ill and left his child with her mother to raise. Hell, if the old lady hadn’t gotten sick herself, he never would have known he had a kid.
He shook his head. Every time he thought about all the years he’d missed with Lissy, it made him a little crazy. He couldn’t help thinking that maybe, if he’d had a chance to get to know her as a baby, to see her grow and get acquainted with her gradually, he wouldn’t be such a bust as a parent now.
Then again, maybe not. The truth was, the Lander County Boys’ Home hadn’t prepared him for fatherhood, instant or otherwise. Nor had it taught him the first thing about being part of a family. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t know what to say or how to act, much less how to befriend a little kid—and a girl, at that.
And though he wasn’t surprised, it ate at him. He’d long ago decided he’d never marry, since what he’d seen at the orphanage—boys left alone, whether by their parents’ choices or by their parents’ deaths—had convinced him that love couldn’t be depended upon. But with Lissy it was different, since neither of them had a choice in the matter. She was here, and he was here, and he knew damn well that she deserved better than he was able to give.
Still, they’d managed all right during the summer. Due, no doubt, to the fact that his nearest neighbor’s teenage daughter had been willing to baby-sit, leaving him pretty much free to go about his business as usual. Now that school had started and he and Lis were on their own, it wasn’t so simple, however. In addition to having a twelve-thousand-acre ranch to run, he had to contend with baths, bedtimes, laundry and meals. And without someone to run interference, his normal reticence combined with his daughter’s shyness was making for increasingly long and awkward silences.
Across the way, Lissy started down the bus’s steep metal stairs. It was his signal to climb out of the truck, and he did, striding around to the other side as she walked up. “Hey, Lissy.” Opening the passenger door, he reached for her bright red backpack and tossed it onto the truck’s abbreviated back seat.
She glanced shyly up at him. “Hi.”
He reached out and boosted her carefully onto the seat. She weighed next to nothing, making him acutely aware of his own strength. Straightening, he stepped back and waited for her to fasten her seat belt. Once she did, he shut her door, walked around and got in on his own side. As soon as the bus lumbered away, he started the truck, made a tight U-turn and headed back to the ranch.
Silence reigned as he tried to think of something to say. Finally, after more than a mile, he glanced surreptitiously at her. She jerked her gaze away from him and stared down at her lap, pink touching her cheeks as she began to pluck at her skirt with her pale fingers.
He cleared his throat. “So…how was your day?”
She shrugged one thin shoulder. “Okay.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
Her fingers stilled. After a moment, she nodded. “Uh-huh.”
He waited, but she remained silent. “What?” he said finally.
To his surprise, she suddenly sucked in a breath and turned to face him. “Jenny Handelmen asked me to come to her birthday party!”
He stared at her. Her usually sober little face was lit up like a Christmas tree. “She did?”
“Uh-huh. She wasn’t going to—” her pleasure dimmed a fraction “—but her mom said she had to ask all the girls in the class.”
John suppressed the urge to ask who in the hell had felt compelled to tell her that. “Yeah, well, the important thing is you got invited,” he said awkwardly.
She appeared to think about that. “I guess.” Her face brightened. “She’s going to have pizza, and a Barbie cake and chocolate ice cream. And she said we’re gonna play games!”
He frowned, surprised by the extent of her excitement. “That’s good, huh?”
She started to reply, then appeared to reconsider. “I think so.”
“Don’t you know?”
She shook her head and her unruly mop of dark blond corkscrew curls bobbed around her shoulders, making him belatedly wonder what had become of the ponytail he’d struggled so hard to secure that morning. “I—I’ve never been to a birthday party before.”
“You haven’t?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged, her expression suddenly uncertain. “Grandma always said no.”
“Huh.” He’d known Lissy’s grandmother only briefly, but it hadn’t taken him long to form an opinion about her character. He wondered if it had been disapproval of having fun in general or the price of a gift that had made the old lady deny the kid such a simple pleasure.
“So can I go?”
He started to say yes, then caught himself. “When is it?”
“Saturday.”
“This Saturday? Tomorrow?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “The next one.”
His heart sank. “Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What time?”
“Six. Remember, I told you, we’re gonna have pizza for dinner.”
Great. The annual Cattlemen’s Association banquet was due to kick off at seven the same night in Missoula, a hundred and twenty-five miles away. He’d already tried and failed to get a sitter, so he’d gone ahead and made a reservation for the two of them at the hotel. As outgoing president, there was no way he could miss it.
Yet something told him that Lissy wasn’t going to see it that way. He glanced at her. For once she was staring straight at him. Her eyes—the same intense blue as his own—were bright with anticipation. “Can I go? Please?”
