She was so determined to keep any hint of her femininity hidden

A lopsided smile quirked up his mouth. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Compared to what, dancing a reel with a tumbleweed?” Hallie managed, trying not to give away the effect being this close to him had on her.

Despite her light quip, Jack felt her quickening breath, saw her eyes widen slightly. She might not look or act like any woman he’d known, but she couldn’t help responding like one.

“Come on,” he said, sliding his gaze down her. “Let’s get you inside and out of those britches.”

“You don’t give up, do you, Dakota?” Pulling away from him, she swung around and started toward the house, ignoring his call after her.

“I didn’t intend to take them off you, darlin’,” he said to her back. “Though I’d be glad to help, if you’d like.”

Praise for Nicole Foster’s recent books

Cimarron Rose

“A must read.”

—Rendezvous

“A spirit-lifting, heartwarming story.”

—Romance Reviews Today

Jake’s Angel

“Finely rendered…expressive…Jake’s Angel is a classic romance, and any reader devoted to this genre will love this book.”

—Romance Communications

“A charming tale from a promising new talent.”

—Affaire de Coeur

#639 LADY LYTE’S LITTLE SECRET

Deborah Hale

#640 THE FORBIDDEN BRIDE

Cheryl Reavis

#641 DRAGON’S DAUGHTER

Catherine Archer

Hallie’s Hero
Nicole Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Available from Harlequin Historicals and NICOLE FOSTER

Jake’s Angel #522

Cimarron Rose #560

Hallie’s Hero #642

For our families near and far.

Best regards,

Annette and Danette

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

Paradise, Arizona Territory, 1876

It couldn’t be gone. Hallie Ryan gripped the battered metal box in her hands, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to fight off the surge of panic. But when she looked again nothing had changed. More than half the money she’d so carefully hoarded all these months was missing.

She realized right then who had taken it. Only Ben would leave part of her money, thinking he’d sweeten her temper by not stealing it all. And Ben would do it even though he knew she’d been scraping together every penny, selling practically all she owned of value, to buy back Eden’s Canyon before the bank sold their ranch to the first buyer who came along.

The only reason they were still living in the house was because she’d choked down her pride and begged Mr. Parsons to let them stay until the bank could find a buyer, giving her a last chance to beg, steal or borrow enough money before they lost everything.

Hallie welcomed the sudden anger flaring up inside her. For the moment, anyway, it pushed away the sick feeling twisting her stomach, and gave her the prod she needed to do something besides curse and cry. Shoving the box back into her wooden chest, she grabbed up her hat and headed for the barn.

She couldn’t remember when she’d been madder at Ben, although her little brother had given her plenty of opportunities in the last year. He was always promising he’d finish one chore or another, always swearing he’d start taking on his share of the responsibilities. But then he’d sneak off to one of the saloons in town to gamble and guzzle a bottle of whiskey or two.

This time, though, he’d gone too far.

Yanking open the barn door, intent on getting to town and confronting Ben, Hallie nearly tripped over Tenfoot Jones on his way out.

“Whoa, there,” Tenfoot said, holding up his hands and stepping back as Hallie stalked into the barn. He pulled a faded bandanna from around his neck and rubbed it over his weathered face and under his braid of iron-gray hair as he watched her drag out the rigging for the wagon. “You’re lookin’ as mad as a peeled rattler, Hal. What’s young Ben done now?”

“Nothing a few years locked in the barn won’t fix.”

“Meanin’ he’s in town puttin’ his money into someone else’s pocket again.”

“No, this time he’s putting my money in someone else’s pocket,” Hallie said, as she led the piebald gelding out of his stall and started hitching him to the wagon. She didn’t tell Tenfoot what money Ben had taken. Like everyone else who lived and worked on the ranch, the cowboy was already worried enough about where they’d be bedding down next month. “I aim to stop him if I have to hog-tie him and drag him home behind the wagon to do it.”

Tenfoot snorted and shook his head. “That boy’s wilder than a barn rat. Always has been. Be the best thing for everybody if you left him where he is, and let him learn about livin’ the hard way.”

“Maybe. Maybe I should’ve done that a long time ago. But I can’t.”

“So you keep tellin’ me. But durned if I understand why.”

Tugging one of the harness straps tight, Hallie’s hands faltered. She swallowed hard, gritted her teeth and forced her fingers to finish the job without shaking. “Because I said I’d look after him.”

“I don’t think your pa meant until Ben was dried up and gray. The boy’s old enough to look after himself. Hell, Hal, you were runnin’ this whole spread when you were his age.”

Hallie shook her head. “He doesn’t have anybody else.”

She’d made her pa two promises before he died less than seven months past: to keep Eden’s Canyon thriving and to take care of Ben.

So far, she hadn’t been able to do either.

Pa had always counted on her to help him with the ranch. He’d taught her to raise cattle and break horses, and to hold her head high even when people stared and whispered behind their hands when she walked down the street in her leather britches and beat-up hat.

But he hadn’t told her about the debts he’d left behind, debts that had cost her Eden’s Canyon. And he hadn’t shown her how to corral a seventeen-year-old brother determined to get himself shot or thrown in jail before he saw twenty.

Climbing onto the wagon seat, Hallie tugged her hat down and took up the reins. “I’ll be back with Ben and my money,” she told Tenfoot as she slapped the leather against the gelding’s back, “one way or the other.”

Jack Dakota figured the kid had less than ten seconds to live.

From the way he swayed on his feet, and the unsteady fumbling of his hand at his holster, the fool boy wouldn’t even get his gun drawn before a couple of bullets laid him facedown in the dirt.

Everyone in the Silver Snake had crowded onto the porch of the saloon to get an eyeful of the kid facing Redeye Bill Barlow. The noon sun beat down on the dusty street, rippling the air, and in a sudden moment of stillness when everyone in Paradise seemed to stop breathing, Jack swore he could hear the sweat trickling down the boy’s face as he squinted toward Redeye.

Jack cursed under his breath. He’d come to Paradise to start new, to finally put down roots, not to get caught in the middle of the kind of trouble he’d been trying to sidestep ever since he was old enough to shuffle a deck of cards.

It had started out harmlessly enough, a quick game with his old rival Redeye to pass an hour or two. Then Ben Ryan had insisted on joining them. Jack thought the kid looked too young to be emptying his pockets at a card table and had told him so a few days earlier, when Ben had tried to talk his way into a high-stakes poker game.

But today Redeye had had the boy’s money on the table before Ben even sat down. An hour later, Barlow staggered to his feet, yanked out his gun and called the kid a cheater.

Now Jack didn’t have time to consider how stupid he was about to be.

Taking two running steps off the porch, he slid his Colt out of the holster, aiming and firing in one swift motion.

The shot caught Redeye in the shoulder. Barlow staggered, lost his footing and fell on his backside, dropping his gun, an almost comical look of surprise twisting his face.

Glancing at Ben, Jack saw him drop to his knees and double over, clutching his stomach.

Jack shook his head and, holstering his gun, strode over to where Redeye still sat in the dirt, holding his bloody shoulder. Jack kicked Barlow’s six-shooter several feet to the side, resisting the urge to kick Barlow along with it.

Redeye glared at him through bleary eyes. “Damn you, Dakota. The kid was cheatin’. He had this comin’.”

“You had this coming. Although with two bottles of that rat poison they call whiskey in you, I don’t know how you could tell one way or the other.”

Before Barlow could argue, Jack reached down and rifled through the other man’s vest pocket, pulling out a crumpled wad of notes. Barlow made a grab for them, but Jack easily snatched the money out of his reach. “Part of this is mine. And you might remember next time that the game’s played with only four aces.”

He was just about to turn his back on Redeye, give Ben his share of the money and disappear before the sheriff arrived, when a wagon came clattering up the dirt street straight at him, the driver practically standing, urging the horse on in a headlong gallop.

At the last moment, the madman holding the reins reared back, jerking the horse to a stop and jumping down from the seat before the wheels stopped sliding.

“Ben!”

Jack first thought the wiry figure in the baggy duster was a boy—until he saw the lumpy braid underneath her sorry-looking hat slap her back as she ran toward Ben. Even then it was hard to believe anything that dusty and rumpled could be female.

“Are you all right? What happened?” the girl demanded, dropping to her knees beside Ben and running her hands over him. Ben, still bent over, answered her with a groan.

“He was trying to get himself killed,” Jack said, walking up to them.

The girl looked up, ran her eyes over him and frowned. “What would you know about it?”

“More than you at this moment. Trust me, darlin’, he was close enough to hell to smell smoke.”

“It looks to me like he wasn’t doing too badly,” she said, flipping a hand to where Redeye still sat in the dust, chaperoned now by Joe Bellweather from the general store as Joe waited for his son to fetch the sheriff.

“C’mon, Hal, Ben couldn’t hit a bull’s rump with a banjo, even when he ain’t been drinkin’,” one of the cowboys still lounging on the porch of the Silver Snake called out.

A loud outburst of laughter greeted his remark, and Hallie flushed. But she kept her chin up and refused to look away. “And I’m supposed to believe one of you gentlemen helped him?”

“No, you should be thankin’ your friend there for keepin’ Ben out of a pine box. He drew so fast Redeye didn’t have time to blink.”

Hallie turned back to the stranger, who seemed to think very little of shooting a man on the main street in the middle of the day. He looked more like the fancy-dressed gamblers who came through town than a gunslinger, but you never could tell. “Is that true?”

“Oh, I think Bill probably blinked a couple of times. Here,” he said, reaching down to take Ben’s arm before Hallie could refuse his help, “let’s get him in the wagon before he decides to sleep it off in the street.”

More than ready to end being the afternoon’s entertainment, Hallie helped get her brother to his feet and half carried him to the wagon. She started to guide Ben to the seat, but Ben’s rescuer shook his head and hefted him onto the back floorboards instead. Ben, his eyes screwed shut, curled up on his side, moaning softly.

Jack pulled off his hat, wiping his brow with the side of his hand. He wondered how many times the girl did this in a week. From the way she handled Ben, he figured she spent a good deal of her time getting the kid out of one scrape or another, although it was hard to understand why. Ben Ryan was nothing but trouble.

Hallie watched Ben a moment before reluctantly turning from her brother to the man who’d helped him. She supposed she owed him, but right then she wished he could have been anybody else.

From the look of him, she guessed she’d been right from the start, and he was the kind that made his living flipping cards in every saloon and hotel he passed through. But even if he wasn’t, she immediately mistrusted that lazy, charming smile that seemed to be there in his eyes even when it wasn’t on his mouth.

He reminded her of a phrase she’d once heard Tenfoot use to describe a rogue stallion: long, hard and fast. His hair, overlong and tousled, looked a hundred different shades of dark gold, as if the individual strands hadn’t been able to agree on a color. It insisted on falling over one eyebrow, giving him a slightly rakish air that, combined with a wicked smile, Hallie was sure he used to his advantage.

“I’m Hallie Ryan,” she said gruffly, sticking out her hand.

If he was surprised at her hesitation or her gesture, he didn’t show it. “Jack Dakota,” he said, taking her hand in a firm grip, at the same time studying her from her hat to her boots. From the look in his eyes, Hallie got the impression he disapproved of every inch of her.

Why should she care? She’d thank him and he’d be on his way, and that would be the end of it. “I guess I owe you, Mr. Dakota. You saved my brother’s life. Thank you.”

“I hope you didn’t hurt yourself sayin’ that, Miss Hallie.” Jack grinned when she scowled. Then, pulling out the wad of notes he’d taken from Redeye, he counted off several and handed the rest to her. “Ben’s money. Don’t bother thanking me for it, since he lost some of it fair and square to me. Most of it’s there, though.”

“How generous,” Hallie muttered, thumbing through the notes, not about to give Dakota the satisfaction of seeing how much getting her money back meant to her.

Jack watched her, trying to figure her out. He’d known his share of women, but Hallie Ryan stuck out like snow in the desert. Then again, it was hard to tell she was female from the way she looked and acted.

Though tall for a woman and on the thin side, she might be pretty if she stripped off the dust and the cowboy garb, and stopped scowling. He couldn’t tell the color of her hair with it haphazardly braided and stuffed under that twisted wreck of a hat. But she did have beautiful eyes, clear and direct, an unusual shade of soft green that reminded him of wild sage and sunshine.

Hallie shifted a little, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “Look, Mr. Dakota—”

“Jack.”

“Mr. Dakota, like I said, I owe you for helping Ben. If you’re ever in Paradise again, you’re welcome to call on us if you need anything.”

“Well, Miss Hallie, I may be calling sooner than you think. You see…” Jack leaned against the wagon, thumbs hooked in his belt. “I plan on staying in Paradise.”

“Staying?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I can’t leave until I collect on your neighborly offer, now can I?” Suspicion flared in her eyes and he laughed. “Don’t get your fur ruffled, Miss Hallie. I was only thinking of asking for a little advice. Ben told me you know more about ranching than any man in the territory.”

“Ben says a lot of things when he’s had too much whiskey. Besides, why should you need advice on anything to do with running a ranch?”

“Because I’m now the proud owner of one.”

Hallie barely stopped herself from laughing in his face. “Pardon me, Mr. Dakota, but you don’t look anything like the kind of man who belongs on a ranch.”

“I won’t ask you where you think I do belong—I have a good imagination. But I plan on settling down and becoming a good citizen.” Jack winked at her, laughing when she stared at him as if he was crazy. “I just bought what your friendly banker called one of the finest pieces of land in the territory. Eden’s Canyon.”

“You…” Stunned, Hallie could only gape at him. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

“The bartender at the Silver Snake heard I was looking for some land and told me it was for sale, and that it was a pretty fair piece of property. It seemed like a good gamble so now it’s mine.”

Jack eyed her for a moment. The look on her face worried him. For the first time since he’d set foot in Paradise, he started to have second thoughts about how quickly he’d decided to try his luck at ranching rather than the dice table.

He couldn’t blame Hallie Ryan for thinking he’d spent too much time in the desert sun. He’d surprised himself. But he had one very good reason for staying in this town, and because of that, he’d made up his mind to make this ranching business pay.

No matter what it took.

“Is there a problem, Miss Ryan?” he asked at last, when it looked as if she’d stand there for the rest of the day, staring at him as if he’d announced he’d come to town to turn the church into a house of wicked women and whiskey.

“A problem?” Hallie found her voice as the truth of what he’d told her finally hit and hit hard. “Oh, yes, there’s a problem, Mr. Dakota. A big problem.”

“Are you going to share it with me, or do I have to guess?”

“They should never have sold you Eden’s Canyon. That land is mine.”

All at once Jack’s easiness slid away, leaving him tense. He straightened and slapped his hat back on. “I don’t like to disagree with a lady—” the slight emphasis he put on “lady” made Hallie flinch inside “—but I’ve got the deed to prove it isn’t.”

“Eden’s Canyon has been Ryan land for nearly forty years. I would have bought it back if Ben hadn’t taken my money to put in your pocket!”

Hallie could have bitten her tongue off the moment the words left her mouth. She hadn’t meant to tell Jack Dakota anything about herself. But the shock and anger of losing Eden’s Canyon to him, of all people, left her too furious to think straight.

“I’ll buy it back from you,” she said through gritted teeth. She thrust out the wad of notes he’d given her. “I have more than half the money now. I’ll get the rest soon.”

Jack ignored the money. “I’m not selling.”

“You don’t know the first thing about running a ranch! You’ll lose everything before a year’s over.”

“I wouldn’t bet your last dollar on that, Miss Hallie,” he said, smiling tightly.

“What I’d bet is that you’ve never stuck with anything longer than a week,” Hallie said. Desperation began to spark the first twinges of panic in her. She couldn’t lose Eden’s Canyon. Especially not like this. Oh, Pa, how could you have done this? “Why would you even want to try?”

“One very good reason.” Gesturing to the porch of the saloon, he called over to one of the saloon girls. “It’s okay, Kitty, it’s over. He can come out now.”

The girl leaned inside the door, beckoning with her hand until a fair-haired boy, about seven or eight years old, came out onto the porch. He stood by one of the posts, looking at Jack and Hallie with a mixture of curiosity and defiance.

“He’s why I’m here,” Jack said.

Hallie’s face puckered in confusion. “Ethan Harper? What would you have to do with Ethan?”

“He’s my son.”

“Your—that’s impossible. You couldn’t be—I mean, when…how?”

“I do put the cards down once in a while, darlin’. And as to how, I’d demonstrate but I don’t think you want to give the boys at the Silver Snake another spectacle.”

Hallie flushed and opened her mouth to snap back at him, but Jack took a step closer so she could feel the heat of him. She faltered and stepped backward, uneasy with the expression in his eyes, which made her wonder if she’d misjudged his determination to suddenly become a rancher.

“Paradise is where Ethan’s grown up, so Paradise is where he stays,” Jack said. He looked straight at her. “And Eden’s Canyon is mine and it’s going to stay mine. Like it or not.”

Hallie stood by the window in the front room of the ranch house, her hands fisted at her sides, and forced herself to look at the stretch of fine grazing land beyond the knobby wooden corral fences. The brilliant sunshine hurt her eyes, but at least it distracted her from thinking about Ben and what his latest escapade had cost her.

Outside her window, grasses knee-high and thick rolled in green, gold and brown over the flat plains of the Rillito Valley. On either side of the valley, the mountains, painted in reds and browns, jutted up in crags and peaks, guarding the rich grassland. Her grandfather had left behind a dirt farm in Missouri to stake his claim on this piece of wild Arizona territory. He’d built the sprawling cedar-and-adobe house near the river, started breeding Mexican cattle and made a modest fortune before Paradise was even a thought.

Hallie couldn’t imagine living anywhere but here, or doing anything but ranching. She was good at it, if nothing else. She would never be the pretty, graceful, quiet kind of woman that men courted with their Sunday-best manners and sweet talk. But she told herself she didn’t care. She didn’t need nice ways and soft words to break a wild mustang or round up a herd of cattle.

She did, however, need Eden’s Canyon.

A timid knock at the door turned Hallie from the window. The girl who poked her head into the room was not much younger than Ben, with smooth pale hair and round blue eyes that dominated her thin face. Hallie had given Serenity Trent a haven and a job at Eden’s Canyon more than two years ago, and only regretted that the girl still crept around as if she expected someone to holler at her just for being in the room.

Hallie motioned her inside. “What is it, Serenity? What’s wrong?”

Chewing at her lower lip, Serenity glanced over her shoulder. “It’s—”

“Jack Dakota. Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, winking at Serenity as he pushed the door wide and walked inside as if he had a right to be there. “Miss Hal knows Ethan and me.”

Serenity, her face bright red, appeared ready to crawl under the rug. Ethan hung back, his face set in a sullen scowl as he clutched a ragged carpetbag close to his side. Only Jack smiled at Hallie, taking the whole mess in stride as if it were of no more consequence than an afternoon picnic. She ground her teeth together, feeling the itch to string him up the first opportunity she got.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Moving into my house.”

“It is not your house.”

“I thought we’d settled this.”

“We didn’t settle anything!”

“Well, the bank and I did,” Jack said. Becoming slightly annoyed at her stubborn refusal to face the truth, he held the deed papers in front of her nose. “These look familiar?” He pulled the papers back when she made to snatch them away. “I didn’t want to leave Ethan at the saloon any longer, and I didn’t fancy staying in town after my little misunderstanding with Redeye. So I’m here, to stay, at my house.”

They glared at each other before Serenity interrupted the charged silence by touching Ethan on the shoulder. “I’ve got some gingerbread in the kitchen. Would you like some?” She gave him a gentle prod in the right direction, and after a glance at Jack, Ethan left with her.

Jack nearly protested, but he didn’t like arguing with Hallie in front of the boy. “Who is she?” He nodded toward Serenity.

“My housekeeper. And before you say anything, she might be young but she works hard, and she knows more about this ranch than you ever will.”

“Is that a challenge, Miss Hal?”

“It’s Hallie, and the only challenge I have for you is to see how fast you can ride out of here. You can’t stay.”

“Well now, darlin’, I think it’s the other way around,” Jack drawled.

The color rose in her face and he smiled, slow and easy. She’d left behind her ugly hat, and her hair, a color somewhere between maple brown and honey, looked as if chickens had been scratching in it. He wondered if she knew it, let alone cared.

“If you just expect me to walk out of here and leave it all to you, you’d better be backing those papers up with a rifle,” Hallie said, fighting to keep her voice level, when inside she felt like screaming at him.

“That’s up to you. I came here ready to do some bargaining.”

“Bargaining? Ha! Why do I get the feeling your idea of a bargain is what’s best for you?”

Jack ignored her. “I’ve thought of a way you and your brother can stay at Eden’s Canyon.”

“You leave and sell my land back to me.”

“You stay and work with me.”

This time Hallie did laugh in his face. Work with him? Was he crazy? “I wouldn’t work for you if I was down to my last dollar and starving.”

“Good thing, because I’m not looking to hire you,” Jack said. Leaning back against the wall, he looked her up and down with that infuriatingly smug smile. “I’m asking you to be my partner.”

Chapter Two

“Your what?”

“I think you heard me,” Jack said, looking her up and down with a deliberate appraisal that made Hallie’s cheeks burn. “Though judging from your face, you would’ve thought I’d asked you to be my partner in bed, not business.”

“I’d rather bed a scorpion!”

“Suit yourself, darlin’. But unless you can die from pleasure, my bite isn’t poisonous.”

Hallie fought to keep from completely losing control of her temper. She’d worked with men all her life, but she’d never known any man who, after less than an hour’s acquaintance, could aggravate her with just one look. “This is a home, Dakota, not a saloon. I don’t allow talk like that under my roof.”

“You don’t strike me as the prim and proper kind, Hal.” Jack pushed away from the wall. Pulling off his black Stetson, he tossed it onto a nearby chair with an insolent flip of his hand. “But it’s my roof now,” he said, slowly walking toward her, “and under my roof, I’ll say and do as I please.”

“Why, you low-down, good-for-nothing—!” After everything that had happened, Jack Dakota was one calamity too much. Goaded to the breaking point, Hallie swung a fist in the direction of his jaw.

Jack easily caught her wrist in midmotion, holding her at arm’s length while she twisted to free herself. “If you’ll calm down long enough to think this over, I’m sure you’ll see it my way.”

“Over your dead body,” Hallie muttered at him. She stopped her useless struggle, and the moment he relaxed his grip, whipped her hand out of his grasp. Retreating a few steps, she rubbed her wrist, glaring at him.

Jack cautiously lowered his hands, not fully convinced the little wildcat wouldn’t attack him again. “Look, Hal, before you go for your guns, consider that I could just tell you to pack your bags and get off my ranch.” Fire flared in her eyes again and he held up his palms in warning. “But I’m trying to offer you a deal that’s more than fair, under the circumstances.”

“You expect me to believe you play fair?” Hallie said. She laughed, the sound grating and bitter even to her own ears. “You and I obviously have very different ideas of fair, Dakota.”

Jack shrugged off the insult. “Whatever you want to accuse me of, lady, you can’t call me a cheat. Everything I’ve won and lost, I’ve done so fair and square. I’m making you a straight offer. I’ve got the money to keep this place going, and you’ve got the experience. I’m willing to be your partner, and that’s the best you’re going to get from me or anyone else. But it’s your choice. You can stay or go, but right now, the boy and I are settling in.”

Before she could stop him, Jack strode past her and out the door in the direction Serenity had taken Ethan. Hallie stayed rooted in place and counted to ten, her hands flexing into fists at her sides as she tried to get some control of her stampeding emotions. Then she followed in his wake, catching up with him just as he stepped into the kitchen.

Serenity and Ethan, sitting at the kitchen table with plates of half-eaten squares of gingerbread in front of them, both looked up as Jack and Hallie came in.

“If you’re finished,” Jack said, walking up to Serenity, “I’d be obliged if you’d show us a couple of rooms we can bed down in.”

Serenity’s eyes flitted between Jack and Hallie and finally settled on Hallie in appeal. “Do I…? Where should I put them?”

Hallie almost told her she could send Jack Dakota straight to hell, but for Ethan’s sake, and the fact that Serenity would likely turn and run, she bit back the words.

What could she do? Her own home had been sold out from under her and Dakota was here to stake his claim. She supposed she could put a gun to his head and force him to leave. But she couldn’t do that in front of the boy, and besides, Dakota would only come back with the sheriff. She didn’t want to admit it, but he rightfully owned Eden’s Canyon, and if she kept getting him riled up, he might send her, Ben and everyone else packing.

And they had nowhere else to go.

She had no choice. She had to let him stay. And damn him, he knew it. It was clear in the way he was looking at her now, with that self-satisfied expression in his eyes, a half smile curving his mouth.

Go ahead and smile, Dakota, she told him silently. We’ll see who ends up staying. And it won’t be you.

“Give Ethan the room next to Ben’s,” she told Serenity. “Ben’s been using it to pile up what he doesn’t want to put away, but we can clean it out soon enough.” An idea struck her and she turned to Jack. “I’ll take you to your room.”

Not liking the sudden lift in her tone, Jack bent to take Ethan’s tattered bag, but the boy snatched it up.

“Don’t touch it,” Ethan said. “I can carry it myself.”

Jack opened his mouth to make a comment on Ethan’s manners, but the flash of disapproval in Hallie’s eyes stopped him. He wasn’t going to give her something else to argue with him about.

Instead, he inclined his head and swept a hand toward the kitchen door. “After you, then, Miss Hal.”

“This isn’t a room, it’s a stall.” Unwilling to go through the doorway, Jack glanced around the tiny, cluttered space Hallie had led him to.

“You’ve just been spoiled by too many fancy hotels,” she said, strolling to the window to lift the shade. “It’s fine. It used to be the nursery for Ben and me. Now it just needs a little sorting through and sprucing up.” She yanked the pull cord and the shade flew up, scattering dust motes in the rays of late-afternoon sunlight streaming into the musty, long-neglected room.

Waving away the cloud of dust, she turned and smiled sweetly at Jack. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Jack sighed. “I’m not company.”

“As far as I’m concerned you are. So don’t get too comfortable.”

A few long strides took Jack across the small room, though he had to dodge a shabby wooden chest and a rocking chair with no seat as he went. He stopped when he stood less than a breath away from her. Meeting her nose to nose, he was pleased to see her false smile quickly fade, replaced by wariness.

He smiled, slow and easy. “Now, I think your joke is real amusing, honey, but it’s been a long day and I’m ready for a shave and some dinner.”

He was so close Hallie was forced to either tilt her head and look directly at his face or stare at his shirt buttons. She chose to meet his gaze squarely, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

His eyes, a warm, golden brown, reflected his smile and the laughter running through it. But she had the feeling he was inviting her to share with him the humor of the situation they found themselves in.

For one crazy moment, Hallie wanted to. He made it so easy and, she admitted, so tempting. She imagined he would be like that with a woman he wanted, and that it would be hard to say no, especially if he touched her.

The instant the thought registered Hallie sucked in a breath, so suddenly she drew in a lungful of dust and started to cough. What on earth was she thinking? She would never let a man like Dakota touch her, never.

“Are you all right?” Jack asked. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Can I get you some water? The dust in here is as thick as a dirt devil.”

Hallie shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t. It was definitely something. And she didn’t want to have anything to do with it or with him.

“Let’s get out of here before we both choke on the dirt,” Jack said, steering her out the door with the hand grasping her shoulder. Outside, he turned her so both his hands held her, and he studied her face. “Can we at least settle the sleeping arrangements without a fight? I’m not asking for the master bedroom. I’m sure that’s yours. I just want someplace bigger—and cleaner.”

To Jack’s surprise, the fight seemed to drain out of Hallie all at once. She wetted her lips, swallowed hard again and finally found her voice. It came out rough and uncertain, and strangely soft for her. “I don’t use the master bedroom. After Pa died, I just…I left it the same as he and Ma had it. I have my own room.”

Jack’s hands tightened briefly on her shoulders. “Okay, not that room then. What’s left besides it?”

Hallie tried to ignore the pleasing, disturbing warmth of his touch by telling herself Jack Dakota practiced charm as easily as he breathed. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he did seem to at least be trying to make some kind of peace between them.

“Oh, go ahead and take Pa’s room,” she blurted out, at the same time she pulled away from him. “The moths and the mice are going to chew everything to shreds if someone doesn’t move in there soon, anyhow.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to have it yourself?”

“No, I like the way the sun hits my pillow at dawn. Somehow I don’t imagine you’d appreciate that much.”

“Depends on who’s sharing my pillow,” he said, the rogue in him returning to tease her.

“No one here will, except maybe the cat,” Hallie retorted.

Jack only smiled, thinking of an image of Hallie asleep, her wild mass of hair tangled around her, the early-morning sun kissing her face. She would look softer then, gentled by the night’s rest. She might even be pretty, without her claws at the ready and her expression so serious.

“You’ll be getting used to seeing the sun rise soon enough if you intend to run this ranch,” she was saying.

“And I’ll learn to like it—in about twenty years. But for now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’ll get settled in.”

“Two doors down the hall on the left.”

“Two?” Jack raised a brow at the flush creeping into her face. “What’s next door?”

Hallie wanted to look away, but instead found her eyes riveted to his. “My room.”

“Well, now.” He cocked his head slightly, a slash of afternoon sunlight catching every shade from pale ale to brandy in his hair. “That’s convenient, seeing as we’ll be partners.”

“Damn you, Dakota.” Hallie turned her back on him, wishing he would just disappear. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Temper, darlin’,” he said, laughing. He started past her in the direction she’d indicated, pausing to grin at her over his shoulder. “And watch your language. I don’t allow talk like that under my roof.”

After leaving Hallie, Jack found the bedroom she’d given him, then retrieved his bags from where he’d dropped them by the front door. Leaving them unopened in his room, he went in search of Ethan.

He found the boy in his new room, alone, curled up on the bed. He was toying with a worn-out shred of glossy yellow cloth. But when he noticed Jack in the doorway, Ethan clenched his fingers around the cloth and hurriedly sat up.

Jack hesitated before moving to sit down next to his son. “I came to see if I could help you get moved in.”

“Nope.” Ethan stared at his hands, clenched together in his lap.

Feeling awkward and uncertain of himself for the first time in as long as he could remember, Jack scoured his brain for something to say. His brand of charm wouldn’t work with this kid. What would work to earn the boy’s trust and confidence, he hadn’t a clue.

“Nice room, don’t you think?”

“It’s okay. I guess.”

Jack glanced around. Serenity had obviously been at work cleaning, changing the bed and moving Ben’s possessions into the adjoining room. But a few things remained: a pile of clothes strewn over a chair; boots tossed in a corner; a lamp with what looked like a brightly colored scarf no lady would wear draped over the shade; a silver garter hung on the corner of a picture frame. Ethan ought to feel right at home, he mused ruefully, remembering the room he and Mattie had shared at the Silver Snake.

What on earth had convinced Mattie he’d be good for her son? Being a father had caught him completely by surprise. His relationship with Mattie had been brief, like most everything else in his life. He’d never taken it or any other dalliances with women too seriously. Women had been something to entertain him between card games.

But now the result of those few nights in Mattie’s bed nine years ago was sitting next to him.

He didn’t have the first idea of how to be a parent or make a family. He knew even less about ranching. But he did know one thing. Ethan wasn’t going to grow up the way he had. His boy would have roots, a home, a real father.

Whatever those were.

Jack glanced at his son. When he’d told Ethan they were moving to the ranch, the boy had flatly refused to go. He’d only left Mattie’s room after the woman who owned the saloon told him he couldn’t stay.

Walking out of the Silver Snake, and all during the ride to Eden’s Canyon, Ethan had said nothing. But Jack recognized something familiar in the way the boy held himself stiff and still. Ethan might have been the image of himself at eight years old, sitting on the porch of a San Francisco hotel while his father argued with his mother over which of them should keep him.

“Ethan?”

The boy kept staring at his hands.

“I want to talk to you about a few things. You don’t have to answer, but I hope you’ll listen, because this is important, for both of us.”

No response.

Jack pushed on, determined to have his say even if he ended up talking to himself. “I’m sorry about your ma, Ethan. I told you before, I didn’t know she was sick and I didn’t know about you until I got the telegram a few weeks ago.”

Ethan’s shoulders shifted in what might have been a shrug.

“I know this isn’t where you want to be right now, but we can’t stay at the saloon. We need a home and this is going to be it. We’re going to learn to be ranchers, and one day, this place will be yours.”

His last words seemed to rouse Ethan. “Miss Hallie says it’s hers,” the boy said, without looking up. “She doesn’t want us here.”

That’s an understatement, Jack thought. “Not now. But she’ll get used to us. And she can teach us a lot.”

“She ain’t like Ma or Kitty or any of the other girls.” His face pinching in a frown, Ethan twisted his fingers harder together. “Her skin don’t look soft, her lips ain’t red and she don’t smell pretty.”

“Uh, no, but—”

For the first time Ethan looked up at him, his mouth set in a determined line. “She ain’t gonna be my new ma and we ain’t ever gonna be a family.” It was both a plea and a decree. “I don’t want no other ma. ’Specially one who ain’t even a real girl.”

“I didn’t bring you here to find you a new ma.”

“Why’d you come here then? You’re a card player, not a rancher. I seen you. You’re real good. Ma said so, too.”

Despite the truth in them, Ethan’s words made Jack uncomfortable. “Trust me,” he said, his face hardening, “living in saloons is no life for a kid.”

Ethan whirled away to face the wall. Tentatively, Jack touched his back. He was about to ask what the matter was when he caught sight of a corner of the yellow cloth Ethan still gripped, his thumb rubbing the edge of it.

“You miss your ma,” Jack said softly, “don’t you?”

Ethan sucked in a broken breath.

“Of course you do. And you’re going to miss her a good, long while. I can’t make that easier for you.”

A shudder passed over Ethan and he stifled a sob, roughly wiping the back of his hand against his eyes.

Impulsively, Jack put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders and drew the boy close against his chest, holding him awkwardly as Ethan finally let go of his tears.

It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. But Jack had to make it work.

Serenity, a wooden spoon in one hand and a crumpled dish cloth in the other, flitted about the kitchen like a skittish bird, checking a pan here, a platter there. “I started so late on supper, it’ll never be ready on time.”

“It’ll be ready,” Hallie said, not looking up from the cornbread batter she stirred with unnecessary force. “I’m here to help you. And we won’t have Dakota underfoot in here. This is one place he’s sure to stay clear of.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

Hallie stopped stirring and stared at the girl. “He practically stole my ranch.”

“He bought it from the bank,” Serenity pointed out, avoiding looking at Hallie as she began setting the plates on the long pine table. “He is letting us all stay. He can’t be so bad, can he? Besides, he’s awfully nice to look at. So clean and polished and all.”

“What difference does that make?” Hallie said, irritated that Serenity would even notice. “And he’s only letting us stay because he wants me to teach him how to run this place.”

Serenity stopped in the motion of putting down forks, biting at her lower lip. “You mean he’ll make us leave after he learns?”

Hallie heard the flood of fear in Serenity’s anxious voice. At fifteen, Serenity had fled her grandparents’ home to escape an arranged marriage. Orphaned as a toddler, she’d been raised by her grandparents and had always loved them. But the mere idea of marrying a man twice her age repulsed and terrified her, so she’d run away, ending up on Hallie’s doorstep a month later, bedraggled, half-starved and looking for work.

Hallie knew part of Serenity still expected either her grandparents or the man she’d been promised to to one day show up and try to claim her, even after two years. She could see that the idea of being forced away from Eden’s Canyon terrified the girl.

“Don’t worry yourself, Dakota won’t be around long enough to learn,” Hallie told her. “He’ll hit the trail just as soon as he figures out there’s no excitement here. I know his kind.”

She stopped short of saying she’d lived with his kind all her life—both her brother and her father. Serenity had a soft spot for Ben, and it was no good telling the girl anything that might be opposite the image she had of him.

“I don’t know about that,” Serenity said, her expression thoughtful. “He does have Ethan now.”

“You wait and see.” Hallie began scooping spoonfuls of batter into the square pan, slapping it so hard that yellow drops spattered over the worktable. “He may be the gambler, but I’d wager my stake in this ranch that Jack Dakota won’t last here six months.”

“I’d ask you to shake on that, but I can’t win something that’s already mine.”

Hallie jumped at the sound of Jack’s deep voice behind her. All at once she felt unsettled and annoyed, and angry at herself for letting him do that to her. She’d known lots of men—cowhands, ranchers, even a few gamblers Ben played with. But none of them ever made her feel like she couldn’t move without tripping over herself.

She turned to look as Jack, with Ethan at his side, strolled into the kitchen. The man was clean-shaven, dressed in a fine white shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders beneath a black leather vest, and his pants clung to his hips as though they’d grown there.

Glancing at Serenity, she saw the girl’s admiring look. But when Serenity turned and saw Hallie watching, too, the girl flushed scarlet and quickly switched back to setting the table. Hallie realized she had no ally there.

“We don’t dress for supper,” Hallie told Jack, as she went back to her chore, shoving the pan of cornbread into the belly of the iron stove. She wiped her hands down her pants, leaving a streak of yellow, and imagined she must look a right pretty sight compared to Jack’s and Ethan’s spit and polish.

“We didn’t,” Jack said. He leaned against the worktable, smiling at her rumpled hair and the smudge of flour on her nose. “We came to offer our help.”

“Help?” Hallie looked him up and down. “With what?”

“You tell me.”

Before Hallie could tell him anything, Serenity pushed a wooden pail into Jack’s hands. “If you could get us some water from the barrel out back, I’d be obliged.”

Jack took the pail with a smile. He looked to Ethan. “We’ll do it together. You can hold the pail.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’ll dip it out.”

“Fair enough.”

No sooner had the two stepped down the back stairs than Ben, head hanging low, ambled into the kitchen with Tenfoot, followed by Eb and Big Charlie, the other two ranch hands. “Evenin’,” they muttered more or less in unison as they moved to take their places on the benches at either side of the table.

Hallie noticed Serenity flash a sweet smile as Ben shuffled past her to his seat, but the smile faded when Ben seemed not to notice her. Best he didn’t, Hallie thought. The last thing Serenity needed was to lose her heart to a boy who wouldn’t know what to do with it even if he wanted it.

Jack and Ethan came through the back door just as the others settled in their seats. All eyes turned to the strangers. Hallie never invited guests to the ranch, making the men immediately suspicious of anyone new.

“This is Jack Dakota and his son, Ethan,” Hallie murmured. She swallowed hard. There was no easy way to say what she had to say. “Mr. Dakota now owns Eden’s Canyon.”

Jack nodded and smiled at the rugged group of men. “Evenin’.”

Silence fell over the table.

Tenfoot shot a look at Ben, but Ben kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Eb and Big Charlie exchanged glances, and Hallie easily read the surprise, doubt and concern that crossed their faces. Tenfoot sized up Jack with a long look, and Hallie could almost hear him wondering how a fancy stranger who obviously didn’t know the right end of a cow had ended up with the Ryan ranch.

Edging slightly closer to Jack, Hallie whispered, “This is your doing. You’d better explain to them. And fast.”

“My pleasure, Miss Hallie,” he said, nodding his head to her. If she expected to scare him, he could have told her he’d faced tougher audiences than this one. At least none of these men had guns, with their fingers on the triggers.

While Hallie and Serenity served up supper, Jack briefly told his story, deliberately leaving out Ben’s involvement, keeping the details vague and making it clear Hallie would be staying on, and everyone else, too, if they wanted.

“I hope you’re shootin’ straight, Mister.” Eb Ryan spoke up from the far end of the table, where he always sat. Eb had a mortal fear of water and refused to go near it, even to wash. He was a cousin Hallie’s pa had talked away from cowpunching on a Wyoming ranch, and because of that, and the fact that he worked harder than any cowpoke in the territory, everyone kept quiet about his one terror. “I been here a spell and don’t fancy the idea of lookin’ for work somewhere else.”

“Things aren’t going to change much around here,” Jack said. “The only difference is I’ll be around to help.”

Big Charlie Dillon snorted. “How do we know you won’t be changin’ your mind the first time your hands get dirty?” he asked around a mouthful of ham.

“I won’t,” Jack said, glancing at Ethan.

Taking a place across from the boy, Hallie looked at him closely for the first time. She could easily see why Mattie Harper had no doubt who her son’s father was. Instead of Mattie’s red hair, Ethan shared Jack’s coloring, and his face would one day be a copy of the clean, angular lines of his father’s.

He watched Jack with quick sideways glances, partly curious, partly uncertain, but all uncomfortable, Hallie noticed. She knew that feeling all too well.

“Would you like some cornbread, Ethan?” she asked him as Jack sat down and the men concentrated on their food.

Ethan eyed her as though she were some new breed of varmint he’d never seen before. He reached for the thick square she offered, being careful not to touch her hand.

Hallie hid a smile. Considering Ethan’s upbringing, she supposed she was like no woman he’d ever known. None of this was like anything he’d ever known, and she knew the boy must be feeling very alone.

Jack Dakota, on the other hand, had probably never spent a lonely moment in his life. He wouldn’t know the first thing about being different, always on the outside. Even now he acted as if he’d sat down to supper at this table every night of his life.

“If you’d like, I’ll show you around the ranch tomorrow,” she told Ethan, trying to draw him out a little. “We’ve got a new colt you might want to see.”

For the first time Ethan looked directly at her. He didn’t say anything, but Hallie knew she’d at least stirred his interest a bit.

“We’ll do it first thing after breakfast,” she promised.

She turned in her seat to make sure everyone was getting enough supper, and found Jack watching her. The appreciation warming his eyes flustered her. “He’s got to learn his way around sooner or later,” she said, as if her talking to Ethan needed some explanation. “Being here, having you around, is going to take some getting used to.”

“Him as the boss is sure gonna take some gettin’ used to,” Big Charlie interjected, rousing laughter from the other men at the table. He scratched the black stubble on his jaw while he pretended to seriously consider Jack. “Somethin’ tells us you ain’t always been a rancher, Dakota.”

Jack lifted a shoulder, letting the jab roll off with an easy smile. “I’ve done a lot of things when I needed the money. Now I’ve got the money and I’ve decided to do this.”

“Ain’t somethin’ you can learn in a day or two,” Tenfoot muttered.

“That’s why Miss Hallie agreed to be my teacher.”

Hallie glared at him. “Mr. Dakota and I agreed to be partners.” She paused, then added deliberately, “For now.”

Jack didn’t bother to disagree with her. Instead, he only smiled and let her have her way. For now.

In time he’d prove to them all he was dead serious about keeping and running Eden’s Canyon, whether one sassy lady rancher liked it or not.

Chapter Three

“Stroke his throat a bit. There. That’s better.” Hallie smiled in approval as Ethan coaxed the foal to take a few more swallows of the warm milk. On her knees in the straw beside him, she shifted slightly to give Ethan more room to work.

Like the boy, the colt was motherless. Hallie had taken over as substitute mother, ignoring the teasing from Eb and Big Charlie and their predictions that the foal didn’t stand a chance. This morning, she’d prodded Ethan into taking over for her.

It hadn’t been easy. After missing him at breakfast, she’d found him sitting hunched up in a corner of the porch. He’d refused to talk to her at first, and then balked at going with her to the barn. Only after she tempted him with seeing the horses did he begrudgingly follow her off the porch, dragging his feet in the dust the whole way.

But when the wobbly kneed colt repeatedly nudged his head against Ethan’s leg, demanding to be noticed, the boy’s eyes sparked with interest.

“He likes it,” Ethan said, fascinated by the small, smoky-gray colt pressed against his chest, now guzzling the milk from the makeshift teat Tenfoot had fashioned.

“He likes you,” Hallie gently corrected. She stroked the colt’s smooth head, not looking at Ethan. “He needs someone to take care of him. Maybe you could do it.”

“Me?” Ethan looked astonished. “Not me. I never took care of nothin’ before.”

“Fine time to learn, since it looks like you’re gonna camp here awhile,” Tenfoot said, coming up beside them.

The boy’s head shot up. “I’m not stayin’ here! My ma and I always lived at the Silver Snake. I’m goin’ back there as soon as I get the chance,” Ethan finished defiantly.

Tenfoot scratched at his left ear. “Well, I think your pa sees it different.”

“He ain’t my pa!”

“That may or may not be,” Hallie said quietly, “but you’re here now. And the colt needs your help.”

“You’re doin’ a fine job tendin’ to him.” Tenfoot gave the foal a pat and briefly clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “A little more practice and you’ll be doin’ it better than the mares.”

Ethan flushed and frowned as he stared hard at the colt half sprawled in his lap. But he didn’t say no.

Smiling to herself, Hallie got to her feet and left Ethan to finish the job under Tenfoot’s encouraging supervision. She still had a lot of work to get done before the heat made working outside unbearable. With her mind focused on the day’s chores, she didn’t see Jack standing in the doorway of the barn until she nearly walked into him.

“You’re here,” she blurted out before thinking. How long had he been standing there, watching? She felt an uncomfortable warmth creep up the back of her neck. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too, Miss Hallie,” he drawled, stepping back to let her walk out into the barnyard. He followed her a little way before propping a boot up on the first rung of the fence and crossing his arms over his knee. “I was looking for you.”

“Why?”

Jack nearly smiled at the way she thrust her chin up, her jaw tight and her eyes narrowed. He was beginning to recognize that look, which meant Hallie Ryan intended to give him a fight if he gave her the slightest opportunity. “I see you’ve been keeping Ethan busy,” he said, ignoring her question. “I’d been wondering where he’d gone so early.”

“It’s been light for three hours,” Hallie pointed out, eyeing him meaningfully. “And Ethan needs something to make him feel like he belongs here. I thought taking care of the colt would help.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I think it’s a good idea.” Jack shrugged, straightening slowly. “Looks like so far you’re better than me at being a parent.”

“You haven’t even gotten started. Why did you come back if you didn’t want the responsibility?” Hallie asked bluntly.

Jack tugged his hat a little lower over his brow so his face was in shadow. He didn’t have an easy answer for that one, and he wasn’t willing to let Hallie Ryan stand here and figure it out for him. “The boy’s my business.” He waited for his meaning to sink in, then smiled and added lightly, “As far as taking on this ranch, I needed a new game.”

“Raising a child isn’t a game, Dakota. And neither is running a ranch.”

Refusing to wait for his response, Hallie turned on her heel and started back inside the barn to get her horse.

She couldn’t remember when a man made her feel more stirred up and frustrated. Right now, all she wanted to do was ride as fast and as far away from him as she could.

He fell into step beside her. She sent him a glare. “What do you want? I have work to do.”

“I’ll go with you.” Her eyebrows shot up and Jack smiled. “I need to learn my way around. It is my ranch.”

“You may own it,” Hallie said as she reached the corral and let herself in the gate. “But it’ll never be yours.” She turned her back on him and kept walking.

“I’m not going away,” he said, so close to her ear she jumped.

Hallie whipped around and found herself nearly nose to nose with him again. She took a hurried step backward. The heel of her boot skidded on a rock and she lurched, losing her hat and nearly her footing.

Jack quickly reached out and caught her upper arms, holding firmly until she righted herself, his hands lingering on her a few seconds longer than necessary. Their eyes met and Hallie felt an odd flutter inside, as if something buried within her had stirred in its sleep. Unsettled by it, she abruptly pulled back, glancing away. She bent and scooped up her hat. As she slapped it back on her head, she saw Jack grimace. “What is it now?”

“You have to admit that’s a sad excuse for a hat, sweetheart.”

Before she could stop him, he reached out and pulled her hat off, tossing it aside. Her braid fell down her back again. Jack wondered what she would look like if she ever took a brush to her hair, and if the idea even occurred to her.

Hallie snatched her hat back up again and jammed it on her head. “Looks like my hair offends you more than this.”

“No, I’ve just never met a woman who cared so little about how she looked.”

“Mister, I’ve run a ranch since I was seventeen,” Hallie said, bristling at the implication in his voice. “I work with horses and cattle all day, make sure everything is moving along the way it should, and see to it everyone is cared for and stays out of trouble. I don’t have time to worry about whether or not my ribbons match my eyes, or if there are enough curls in my hair. And I doubt satin skirts would last through the first throw from a wild mustang.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile to himself, though he turned slightly aside so she wouldn’t see his amusement. The woman had pluck; that much he had to give her.

Hallie caught the hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, and it annoyed her. Either he didn’t believe her or he wasn’t all that impressed. She guessed the only thing about a woman that would impress a man like Jack Dakota was whether or not she knew how to use what Tenfoot called “feminine wiles” to please him.

She went into the tack room to get her saddle, anything to avoid looking at him. Whatever feminine wiles were, exactly, she didn’t have them and she didn’t care. The lack had never crossed her mind until now, and she wasn’t about to let that kind of nonsense take root.

Pretending to adjust her hat, she stole a sidelong glance at the broad-shouldered man who insisted on walking next to her no matter how clear she made it she didn’t want him around. Why did he make her feel so inadequate, so uncomfortable with herself? The smug, self-satisfied look still played about his mouth, giving him an air of having an advantage she didn’t know about.

That along with his damnable good looks raised in her an impossible mix of anger and something she couldn’t quite define. Part of her wanted to storm off and leave him Eden’s Canyon so she’d never have to look into his laughing eyes again. But another part couldn’t stop glancing at him, mesmerized for a moment by the way he moved as he reached to retrieve his bridle, the white cotton of his shirt stretched taut over his back and shoulders.

Jack looked up then, catching her gaze. “You must like what you see, darlin’,” he drawled, deliberately provoking. “You’ve been staring long enough.”

Hallie immediately looked away. “You’re wrong. Looking at you, I imagine you’re nothing but trouble and always have been.”

“Think so?”

“I know it. Ben told me what happened back in town during that card game. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of it was your fault.”

He laughed, the easy, deep-throated sound echoing into the heated stillness around them. “You’re an ornery sort, aren’t you, woman? Not at all like your brother.”

Hallie stiffened. “Ben never needed to be ornery. He learned fast how to sweet-talk his way in or out of everything, just like you.”

“It comes in handy, now and again.”

“Don’t you ever take anything seriously? Having to work for you isn’t a game to me, no matter how amusing you find it.” Hallie paced a few steps away, her back to him. “I knew Ben would get mixed up with someone like you sooner or later.”

“I hate to break it to you, darlin’,” Jack said slowly. “Ben is someone like me.”

“He likes to gamble, but it’s not his life. Not yet.”

Jack looked up at her, the lightness gone from his expression. “Your brother is a born gambler,” he stated, his tone suddenly serious. “Trust me, I know one when I see one. But I can’t help that any more than I could stop him from getting in over his fool head with Redeye. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, even if they’re stupid ones.”

“I don’t trust you.” Hallie spun around to face him. “And somehow I doubt you were too convincing when Ben wanted into that game.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Hal. I don’t know your brother from Adam, but I’m well acquainted with his type. He might have a gambler’s soul, but he sure as hell doesn’t have a gambler’s head. I warned him he’d lose his shirt in that game and he laughed at me. You should’ve kept him home on the ranch where he belongs.”

To Jack’s surprise her fierce scowl vanished and she jerked as if he’d struck her. “I’ve tried. Ever since Ma died, I’ve tried. It’s only gotten worse, with Pa gone, too.” She abruptly turned her head to stare blindly at the wall, her arms folded over her chest. “He wants things I can’t give him.” After a moment, she blew out a shaky breath and glanced at Jack. “And I told you, my name’s not Hal.”

The unguarded emotion he glimpsed on her face struck Jack like a fist to the chest. He felt a spurt of anger against Ben Ryan. Probably all his life the kid had let his sister shoulder his responsibility along with her own. Ben had no idea what he had. At one point in his life, Jack recalled he would have sold his soul to know Hallie’s kind of love from anyone in his makeshift family.

He started to raise a hand to offer a comforting touch, then stopped himself cold. He wasn’t about to make that mistake. She’d probably reach for the gun she had slung on her hip, thinking he intended to take advantage of her vulnerability.

“Hallie, I’m sorry about what happened with Ben,” he said instead. “And your losing the ranch, too.”

The gentleness in his voice made Hallie feel worse than before. She swallowed hard, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and not let herself get upset in front of him. “But not sorry enough to give it up.”

His expression hardened. “No. And you know why.”

There was nothing she could say that would make any difference now. Without a word, she went and got her horse, Grano, from the stall, saddled the Appaloosa and led him outside. She mounted up, not bothering to check if Jack followed.

She started her horse into a gallop with a quick slap of the reins, wanting to pretend for at least a few minutes that everything she’d ever taken for granted hadn’t been lost for good.

“Damn! Damn that good-for-nothing, smooth-talking—ouch!” Hallie yelped as the sharp pricks of cactus needles pierced the seat of her pants. She couldn’t help blaming Dakota for this even though for all she knew he was still back at the ranch.

After her confrontation with him, she’d galloped her horse hard across the open grassland, relieved when she’d gotten to the edge of the cliffs to look back over her trail and find herself alone. After checking the grazing herd of cattle, she’d walked her horse along the rough path below the cliffs, taking a more leisurely pace back to the barn.

But as she’d started to turn the stallion toward the pasture again her horse had suddenly whinnied and reared back, throwing her bottom-first onto a patch of prickly pear. Stunned, Hallie didn’t see the rattlesnake until it slithered off the path in front of her into a crevice in the rock. Grano she couldn’t see at all.

Sucking in a shaky breath and letting it go in a whoosh, Hallie shifted slightly, then froze as pain sliced at her bottom.

All at once everything—the fall and her throbbing backside, Ben, Pa’s death, losing the ranch—seemed too much.

“This is all your fault, Jack Dakota!” she said out loud. “Everything is your fault!”

Except it wasn’t. No matter how much she wanted it to be. Angry tears stung her eyes. She was nearly as mad at herself as she was at him. How could she have let this happen, all of it? How could she ever put it right?

By getting yourself off this cactus for a start, she told herself. Sitting there sniveling wasn’t going to change things. And it wasn’t going to get the cactus spines out of her behind.

Hallie braced herself and pushed upward, jerking herself up onto her knees. For a moment, she hardly dared breathe for fear any little movement would make the pain unbearable.

Then, bent over in what felt like the most undignified position a woman could get herself into, she pulled off her bandanna, wadded it up and put it between her teeth to bite if the pain got too bad.

One by one, she began plucking out the cactus needles.

After the first three, she wanted to lie down and cry. But all she had to do was picture that roguish grin on Jack’s face if he ever found her in this position, and it made her bite down and yank harder.

The sixth one stuck hard and Hallie let out a yell when she finally managed to yank it out.

Absorbed in her task, fighting the pain, she didn’t hear the approach of a horse and rider coming fast across the open ground. Only when she lifted her face and found herself staring at a familiar pair of black boots did she realize she had an unwelcome audience.

She spat out the bandanna and looked up into Jack’s face. “You!” Jerking to her feet, she gasped as the cactus needles sank deeper.

Jack knelt in front of her at once and grabbed her by the shoulders, preventing her from moving. “Keep still or you’ll kill yourself before you get your shot at me.”

“Just go away!”

“Right, and leave you by yourself, full of cactus needles. What were you trying to do here?”

“Oh, hush up. And leave me alone! I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, I can see that.” Jack considered the situation and decided she’d been in the best position possible to get the needles out when he’d found her. “I think you’d better just bend over again and let me pull them out.”

“I said I don’t need your help!”

“Stop being so damned stubborn, woman. If you don’t get rid of those soon, you’re going to be begging me to shoot you just to end your misery.” Picking up the bandanna, he rolled it tightly and offered it to her again. “Here, you’re going to need this. Now turn around. You can plot my murder while I’m pulling them out.”

With fury, loathing and humiliation swelling in her until she swore she’d explode, Hallie ground her teeth against the bandanna and bent over. Even accepting Jack Dakota’s help had to be better than this pain.

Ignoring her provocative position and the small, heart-shaped curve of her backside, Jack forced himself to concentrate solely on the task at hand. One by one, with tender force, he tugged the needles from the seat of her pants.

At first she muttered curses in his direction, but by the time he finally wrested the last needle free, her anger had muted to whimpers.

“Okay, that’s the last of it, sweetheart,” Jack said.

Gently, he helped her straighten. Something twisted in his chest when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. She held them back, keeping her pride intact. But he could see what the effort cost her and how much she was hurting.

“Hallie, I—”

“I hate you, Jack Dakota,” she said, her eyes narrowed, her fists clenched. “I wish I’d never laid eyes on you. I wish Redeye had shot you when he had the chance.”

“I never intended for you to get hurt.”

She didn’t know whether he meant the cactus or him buying her ranch, and she didn’t care. She ignored the throb of pain in her backside and faced him squarely. “Well, you’ve said the words. Now get back up on your horse and ride off. I don’t need you.”

She started to turn away from him, but Jack caught her arm and pulled her to face him again. “Not without you.”

For a moment they stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Jack looked at her closely for the first time and realized she’d lost her ugly hat. Her braid had come undone and a wild riot of waist-long hair, a light honey-brown in the sunlight, fell over her slender shoulders, making her look more like a vulnerable young woman than the rough-riding ranch woman she pretended to be.

The intent way he looked at her only made Hallie feel more agitated. “Don’t you ever listen to anything I say?”

“Every word. But I’m not leaving.”

“I need some privacy to tend to myself. Go back to the ranch. I’ll be there soon enough.”

“Sorry, darlin’,” Jack said, “but I can’t do that.”

Before she could protest, he slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her to a place in the rocks where she could rest her weight without leaning on her bottom.

Hallie glared at him. “What does it take to get rid of you?”

Jack only grinned and began rolling up his sleeves. “You might as well get used to having me around. One day you might even like it. Now—” he eyed her with a glint in his eyes “—let’s have a look at those holes the cactus left behind.”

Hallie stared. He couldn’t be serious. One thing was for sure, he was crazy if he thought she’d ever let him touch her again. Especially not there. But looking at him, Hallie knew he would.

And the worst of it was, right now she had neither the will nor the slightest idea how to stop him.

In fact, she almost said yes. That voice of his, deep, expressive, with laughter running underneath, and the way he looked at her, as if she mattered—it almost persuaded her.

Then he flashed a grin, as if he knew she was going to give in, and it jolted Hallie to her senses. What was she thinking to consider letting him see her half-naked, and then let him put his hands on her?

“I know that look,” Jack said.

“Then you know I plan on tending to myself,” Hallie retorted, pulling away from him.

Jack seemed as if he was about to argue with her, but after a few seconds he held up his hands and backed up a step. “You might try a mud pack with sage leaves. It’ll help the pain enough to get you back to the ranch.”

“You get stuck with cactus needles often?” she asked, eyeing him doubtfully.

“Once is enough, so don’t get any ideas, Hal. Here…” He handed her his canteen. “Take a swig and I’ll get you some sage leaves.”

The temptation to set him straight about his inclination to order her around warred with the throbbing ache in her bottom. The ache won. Without a word, Hallie limped awkwardly away to find a place among the rocks out of Jack’s view where she could pull down her pants.

She refused to think about him as she jerked the denim over her hips along with her drawers and used some water from his canteen to gingerly sponge the punctures in her tender flesh. All the while she tensed, listening for any sound of his return.

“Hallie?” he called after a few minutes.

“Don’t come any closer!” she yelled, even as she heard the crunch of his boots on the rocky ground.

“Sorry, my aim’s not that good. Here…” Reaching over the rock outcropping, he dangled a red bandanna filled with dirt and sage near her nose. “There wasn’t much sage, but add some water and it should do for now.”

Mixing the concoction with her fingers, Hallie dabbed it against her swollen skin, closing her eyes against the sting. On the other side of the rocks, she could hear Jack pacing, humming a little under his breath, and suddenly she felt hot and prickly all over.

He couldn’t see her, of course. She’d made sure of that. The pacing stopped. She froze. He took a few steps, slower this time. Breathing fast, her heart thudding, Hallie yanked up her pants as quickly as she could, wriggling to get them over her hips and fastened.

When she finally emerged from behind the rocks, Jack looked her up and down. “How are you doing? You seem flushed. You aren’t feverish, are you?”

“I’m fine, just great,” Hallie muttered, wondering how he could say that and look so innocent. In truth, her bottom felt as if it was on fire, and she dreaded even the idea of getting into the saddle. But she’d be damned if she would tell Dakota that.

It would take a blind man not to see how much she hurt. Jack grimaced as he watched her walk slowly and awkwardly toward his horse. How did she think she was going to ride like that?

“Hallie,” he said, taking a few running steps to her side and reaching out to grasp her arm.

She tugged free, glaring at him. “Let me go!”

“Not until we talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Maybe not, but if we’re going to work together, we’ve got to find a way to keep from strangling each other. I’m only trying to help.”

“Fine, you’ve helped. Thank you,” she added with an effort. “Now I want to go home.”

“Then you’re going to have to ride with me. I don’t see your horse.”

Hallie cursed under her breath. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to say she would rather walk back to the ranch than ride with him.

She did hurt, though, and it was hot and she didn’t think she could walk ten minutes, let alone hours.

Jack saw her wavering. But she was proud and stubborn, and he guessed it would take a lot more than a few cactus needles to overcome that. Gambling she wouldn’t shoot him, he moved quickly and scooped her up in his arms, being careful to avoid the slightest contact with her backside.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly when she started to struggle, “you can’t do everything alone. Besides, if something happens to you, I’ll have to start getting up early to do whatever it is you do at the crack of dawn. And I never get up at sunrise unless someone’s shooting at me.”

He grinned at her and Hallie found herself responding before she could think of a reason why she shouldn’t. “I’ll remember that when I have to roust you out of bed to round up the cattle.”

“Sounds delightful,” he murmured close to her ear as he carried her to his horse and gently put her sideways in the saddle. Mounting up behind her, he shifted her so her bottom was partly cushioned against his thigh.

“It’ll have to do until we get back,” Jack said when Hallie gave an awkward wriggle and winced.

She nodded, not looking at him. She could hardly tell him it wasn’t the pain in her backside making her uncomfortable now, but the closeness to him. With her bottom snuggled up against his thigh and his arm firmly around her waist, holding her against his chest, she was more disturbed by the intimacy of their position than by the cactus pricks, in a way she’d never expected.

The feel of him against her gave her an unsettling sort of pleasure. She liked it. And at the same time, as the horse started a slow lope across the grass, she wanted to get away from him and the rhythmic press and slide of his body against hers. It didn’t make any sense, but right now she hurt too much to try to figure it out.

One thing was for sure, she didn’t need any more trouble, of any kind. But living with Jack Dakota, she had the feeling that was exactly what she was going to get.

Chapter Four

In all Hallie’s memory, the ride back to the ranch house had never seemed so long. With each step Jack’s horse took, a different part of her body reacted.

“Not much farther.” Jack’s low voice rumbled against her ear. “How are you doing?”

Hallie shifted, not sure which demanded more of her attention, the unforgiving saddle leather or the rub of his thigh against her backside. “I never knew sitting in a saddle could feel like torture.”

“Ah, well, try riding for two weeks straight with only a few hours sleep every day.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a story,” Hallie said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Take some poor fool’s last dollar only to find out he had brothers, did you?”

Jack laughed. “Something like that. Let’s just say it’s hard to live on your luck for so many years without a few close calls.”

Letting herself relax a little, Hallie found it easier on her bottom to lean against Jack’s chest. He made it hard not to like him when he was doing his best to be accommodating. And the new feeling he gave her—of being protected, even coddled a little—Hallie discovered she didn’t mind so much.

She could even get used to it. “Tell me your story, would you?”

“It’s not much of a tale. It happened when I was too green and too full of myself to know when to bury my aces instead of laying ’em down. That was the first time I took Redeye Bill Barlow’s winnings, and if he’d caught up with me it would’ve been my last.”

“You knew Redeye before?”

Jack didn’t realize his arms had tightened around her until Hallie wriggled a bit. He forced himself to relax his hold on her. “Longer than I want to remember.”

She thought about that for a minute, and Jack wondered if she’d push him to say something more. Instead, she surprised him by murmuring, “I hope Serenity doesn’t need help with supper. Standing at that stove doesn’t sound too appealing right now.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Hal, I’ll help her, if it comes to that.”

“You?” Hallie started laughing. “Are you asking me to believe you found time to learn to cook between women and games?”

“Don’t insult my cooking until you taste it.” Jack paused a moment, then added in a voice he deliberately kept light, “My pa wasn’t one to cook for or keep up with a boy he thought was old enough to fend for himself. I’ve got many talents that might surprise you.”

“Rolling dice doesn’t count.”

“I’ll have you know, darlin’, I’ve had my share of respectable jobs in my time.”

“This I would like to hear,” Hallie said, deliberately teasing him because she wanted to know more about him. She’d pegged him as sweet-talking and shallow. But from the few things he’d said about his past, she was beginning to get a different picture of him.

He’d managed to smooth over and bury a good part of himself beneath layers of fine manners and fancy clothes. Except once in a while, the boy in him showed through, and Hallie guessed it was a boy with a rough and unstable start in life, perhaps much like his own son.

She closed her eyes a moment to concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest against her back, a pang of sympathy pricking her heart. There was more to Jack Dakota than met the eye, that was for certain.

“Let’s see,” he was saying, “I worked in a mercantile for a few months, I washed dishes in a restaurant and I played piano in several hotels. You should hear my rendition of ‘Old Coon Zip.’”

“To do that, you and I would have to pay a visit to the Silver Snake.”

Jack leaned over to look at her. “Do I want to know why?”

Hallie sighed and fingered a frayed edge of leather on the reins. “You know Lila Lee,” she said, referring to the woman who owned the saloon. “I sold her my ma’s piano after Pa died. She’s sweet on Tenfoot, so I got a good price.”

Jack didn’t have to ask why. He knew Hallie had scraped together every dollar she had to try and buy Eden’s Canyon back from the bank. It was obvious from the empty places in the sprawling ranch house that she’d sold most everything but the clothes on her back to pay off her father’s debts.

He knew from the gossip in town that Jim Ryan had lost his money and his ranch at the card tables. It was no wonder Hallie resented Jack, a professional gambler, buying Eden’s Canyon out from under her.

Ace lurched sideways over a patch of rough ground and Hallie grabbed for the pommel to keep her balance.

At once, Jack’s arm swept around her waist, pulling her up out of the saddle and hard against him. His forearm brushed the underside of her breasts as Ace found his footing again.

Hallie angled herself away from Jack the moment she felt she wouldn’t fall out of the saddle. The last thing she needed right now was more of his touch.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Sorry, I didn’t see that coming.”

“It’s not your fault. And the damage can’t get any worse at this point.”

“It will if you don’t stay off your feet for a while.”

Hallie’s shoulders shifted. “Serenity can’t do everything. Besides, I’ve had my share of scrapes and bruises. They never stopped me from doing what needed to get done.”

“You’re a damned stubborn female, Hallie Ryan,” Jack said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Stubborn I’ve been called many a time,” Hallie agreed. “Female’s the part they usually leave out.”

She expected Jack to come back with some teasing retort. Instead his arm around her waist tightened a fraction.

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but their eyesight’s not too good. Look…” He gestured toward the barn and corral visible in the distance. “Your torture is nearly at an end.”

Jack slid out of the saddle as soon as they neared the ranch house, knowing Hallie would throw her leg over the horse’s neck and jump down on her own if he didn’t hit ground first. She’d sooner suffer the pain than lose one more particle of her already wounded pride.

With one swift motion he was at her side, arms outstretched, leaving her no way off of Ace but into his arms. He looked up at her and saw a slight frown pucker her forehead beneath the brim of her ugly hat.

“And you call me stubborn?” she grumbled, glancing from side to side. Finding no witnesses, she hastily slid down against him.

For an instant, they stood practically nose to nose, his hands measuring the surprisingly small span of her waist. Hidden beneath her billowing shirt and loose pants, her shape was a curiosity of increasing interest to him, probably because she was so determined to keep any hint of her femininity hidden. A lopsided smile quirked his mouth. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Compared to what—dancing a reel with a tumbleweed?” Hallie asked, trying not to give away the effect being this close to him had on her.

She didn’t like what he could do to her with a single touch. She liked it well enough, though, to stay still within his hold.

Despite her light quip, Jack felt her quickening breath, saw her eyes widen slightly. She might not look or act like any woman he’d known, but she couldn’t help responding like one.

“Come on,” he said, sliding his gaze down her. “Let’s get you inside and out of those britches.”

“You don’t give up, do you, Dakota?” Pulling away from him, she swung around and started toward the house, ignoring his call after her.

“I didn’t intend to take them off you, darlin’,” he said to her back. “Though I’d be glad to help, if you’d like.”

“Go away,” Hallie yelled over her shoulder as she shoved open the front door.

She went straight to the kitchen, hoping Serenity would have some of that willow powder she used to make soothing teas. At the kitchen door, she heard Ben say something in a low voice, then Serenity’s musical laughter.

She found Ben and the girl standing side by side near the table, Serenity’s face aglow, Ben’s hand at her elbow as she smiled into his eyes.

They turned in unison when Hallie stepped inside, their expressions changing at once. Serenity darted several uneasy steps away from Ben, keeping her eyes downcast.

Ben glanced at her, then scowled at Hallie. “I thought you were checkin’ the herd.”

“Obviously.”

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, before Hallie could say anything more. “You’re walkin’ like you haven’t been off a horse for a month.”

Hallie opened her mouth, only to close it as Jack strode up beside her and shot Ben a look that clearly warned the boy to mind what he said. “I’m happy to see you here, Ben,” Jack said. “You can help me and Miss Serenity with the cooking tonight.”

“What…cooking?”

Hallie jerked her hat off and turned to stare hard at Jack. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“You know, I might believe that, if you’d agree to take care of yourself.” Trying to appeal to her in a way she might accept, as an equal, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, we’re partners, and while I know you’d rather kiss a wild boar every morning than accept that, this is a chance for me to have some time alone with everyone.”

Hallie shook her head, not willing to give him the slightest advantage over her. “I’m sure you mean well, but I told you earlier, thanks but no thanks.” Stepping out of his reach, she turned to Serenity. “We’ll use the spring peas and the rest of the ham from last Sunday’s supper. Oh, and I moved the peas we put up early to the front of the top shelf of the pantry.”

Not quite meeting Hallie’s eyes, Serenity nodded and scuttled past them out the door.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Ben called after her, eager to flee from his sister before she changed her mind about Dakota’s idea and had him cooking supper.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jack refused to back down. “Changing the subject won’t make it go away. The men will have to accept me sooner or later, but I’d like it to be sooner, and on peaceful terms. Come on, Miss Hal,” he coaxed, holding out his hands. “It’s supper, not a cattle drive.”

Hallie yearned to say no. While she knew it was stupid of her not to rest her backside and properly tend to her injuries, a small, jealous part of her didn’t want to give up any of her responsibilities at Eden’s Canyon to Jack Dakota.

Still, turning him down seemed more spiteful than anything. And she did hurt enough to cringe at the idea of standing up to fix supper and then sitting down to eat it.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “This once, my kitchen’s all yours.”

Jack nodded and held the door open for her, watching as she slowly and painfully made her way to her room.

He supposed he should feel good about winning their latest battle. But he was left with the uncomfortable sensation that he’d done more damage to Hallie’s dignity than he’d helped to heal her wounded backside.

“I can’t believe I rode the biggest one. Can I do it again tomorrow?”

Hearing the excitement in Ethan’s voice, Jack turned from the griddle on the stove to see his son come into the kitchen, glued to Tenfoot’s side.

“You must have talked your way onto one of the horses,” he said, smiling at his son’s happy grin.

It struck him that he’d never seen Ethan smile like that, and Jack found himself wishing from somewhere deep inside that it had been he, and not Tenfoot, who had put that smile on his son’s face.

“You should have seen me,” Ethan said. “I was ridin’ that big brown stallion all around the corral, wasn’t I, Mr. Tenfoot?”

“Just like you were born to it,” Tenfoot answered. His eyebrows arched up as he took in the sight of Jack, a dishcloth slung over his shoulder, flipping eggs at the big black cast-iron stove. “Looks like your pa got himself a new job while we was out. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the likes of you in this kitchen in my thirty-odd years here.”

Jack didn’t have time to explain as Charlie and Eb came in behind Tenfoot. Instead of taking their usual seats at the table, they, too, stopped to stare at Jack.

“Don’t wait to be invited. Come on in and sit down,” Jack ordered, waving them in with his spatula.

Serenity, working with Ben to get the table set, put a pile of plates into Ben’s hands and let the men get settled as she went to fetch the platter of ham.

“Where’s Hal?” Charlie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked around the room.

“She had a little run-in with an unfriendly cactus today,” Jack answered over his shoulder, “so she’s resting.”

“Rest? Hal?” Eb shook his head doubtfully as he took his usual seat at the far end of the table. “That don’t sound like her. She ain’t dead, is she?”

Jack smiled to himself as he remembered Hallie and him together. “She’s about as far from dead as anyone can be. Don’t worry, she’ll be back in the saddle tomorrow. But for tonight…” he bent to pull two trays of king-size biscuits from the oven “…I’m doing most of the cooking. And since the only thing I can cook worth eating is breakfast, breakfast it is tonight. How do you want your eggs?”

The men sat in silence while Jack searched their faces, one by one, for a response. At last Ben lifted his plate and handed it across the table toward Jack. “I’ll take four, fried on both sides.”

Jack reached for the plate. “Done.”

One by one, hunger got the better of the others, and they surrendered their plates as well. As they ate, the tension in the room relaxed and Jack found it easier to ask them about the day’s activities.

Even Ethan opened up enough to tell him a little about his ride on Tenfoot’s horse. And he also managed to put away his share of eggs and ham.

Jack filled the biscuit basket for the third time, and Big Charlie reached for them before the basket hit the table. Glancing to the doorway and lowering his voice, the burly cowboy muttered, “Don’t be giving me away to Hal, but I gotta say, these are some of the best durned biscuits I ever ate.”

Eb, his mouth crammed with ham, nodded in agreement, giving Jack the first real sense of gaining ground since he’d come.

“I won’t tell her because then she’ll be having me in the kitchen all the time,” he teased. “I’d better save a few for her, though.”

“I’ll take her a plate,” Serenity said, shoving away from the table.

“No, I’ll do that,” Jack replied in a tone he knew she wouldn’t question. “Ben will stay and help you clean up, won’t you, Ben?”

“Me? Wash dishes?”

Serenity turned her sweetest smile on him. “You can dry, Ben. I’ll do the washing.”

He flushed from foot to forehead, and a round of raucous laughter filled the kitchen. When it died down, Jack turned to Ethan, who sat as close to Tenfoot as space would allow. “How was your supper?”

Ethan didn’t look up from his nearly empty plate. “Strange havin’ breakfast for supper.”

“Well, I guess it’s better than an empty belly.” Jack didn’t press Ethan any further. The fact that the boy had said anything to him this evening was progress. “I’m going up to give Miss Hallie her supper. When you’re done, go on to your room and wash up. I’ll come in a little while and check in on you for the night.”

Crumbling the last bit of his biscuit between his fingers, Ethan only nodded.

Jack ignored Serenity’s doubtful look as he pushed away from the table and went to fix a tray for Hallie. Charlie and Eb leaned back as they finished the last dregs of their coffee.

“Not half-bad grub fer a tenderfoot wrangler,” Eb offered as he put down his cup and got to his feet.

Charlie nodded in agreement.

As they ambled out to the bunkhouse, Jack decided that was one of the best compliments he’d ever had.

Jack balanced the tray on one hand at Hallie’s door and knocked lightly at first, then more firmly when she didn’t answer. He waited a few more moments before deciding to risk going inside. She was probably sleeping, but he didn’t want to leave without making sure she hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

Slowly, he eased the door open and stepped far enough inside to get a good look at her bed, expecting to see Hallie curled up in a nest of faded quilts and pillows. She wasn’t there.

Typical of her, Jack thought, as he stalked back down the hall to the kitchen. Why should he be surprised at anything the bullheaded woman did?

Serenity met him at the door, glancing at the untouched tray. “Is she all right?”

“She’s gone,” Jack said shortly. He handed her the tray. “Where would she go this time of night?”

Chewing at her lower lip, Serenity hesitated, then said, “Maybe to the barn. She’s been worried about that colt, the one Ethan’s been helping with. But you probably shouldn’t—”

“You’re right. But shouldn’t is what I do best. Besides, someone’s got to talk some sense into her,” he muttered on his way out the back door. “She doesn’t have any business being out of bed.”

She didn’t have any business being in bed. Unable to lie there and stare at the walls a moment longer when there was so much to be done, Hallie had gotten up and made her way to the barn as soon as she heard the men come in for supper.

She’d checked on the horses, then gotten down the currycomb to take to the orphaned colt’s stall to brush his curly coat.

The familiar rhythm and simply being alone with the animals soothed her. She was comfortable here, at ease with the feel and smells of the sturdy cedar-wood building. It was one of the few places she didn’t feel awkward or out of place.

She loved the earthiness of it, the fresh scents of hay and corn, the soothing whinnies of the horses, the low moans and shuffling about of the milk cows. As she continued currying the colt, she absently hummed a soft little tune in time with the motion of her hands.

Somehow the simple task brought her upside-down world aright, and things didn’t seem so terrible. She would get through this, just as she’d gotten through every other trouble the ranch had thrown at her over the years. She’d survived problems much worse than Jack Dakota.

The crunch of straw underfoot broke Hallie’s peace. She turned to find Jack behind her, his long, lithe figure leaning lazily against the slats of a nearby stall, a piece of straw dangling from his lips.

With a sigh, Hallie went back to brushing the colt. “You’ve got this habit of sneaking up on me. I don’t like it.”

Though her words were short, Jack noticed the lack of heat in them. She sounded more as if she’d resigned herself to having him appear where and when she least wanted him. “That’s too bad,” he said lightly. “If you gave it half a chance, you might find the unexpected can be exciting.”

Hallie didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t have any experience of men with silver tongues and teasing smiles, who did their best to make a person feel all twisted up inside. It seemed better to say nothing than to risk making herself look foolish.

Jack watched as she finished currying the colt, then gave the animal a final pat before getting up off her knees and unlatching the stall door.

She seemed different, somehow. As usual, his banter had made her ill at ease. But in the wavering lamplight, with the darkness wrapped around them, she looked gentler, softer around the edges. Though her hair was hastily braided, and she still wore a shapeless, mannish shirt and baggy pants, he’d seen a tenderness in the way she stroked the colt and the quiet way she spoke to it, a grace in the way she moved.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.