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Cowgirl Makes Three

By

Myrna Mackenzie
Her Secret Rival

By

Abby Gaines

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Cowgirl Makes Three

By

Myrna Mackenzie

MYRNA MACKENZIE grew up not having a clue what she wanted to be—she hadn’t been born a princess, the one job she thought she might like because of the steady flow of pretty dresses and crowns—but she knew that she loved stories and happy endings, so falling into life as a romance writer was pretty much inevitable. An award-winning author with over thirty-five novels written, Myrna was born in a small town in Dunklin County, Missouri, grew up just outside Chicago, and now divides her time between two lakes in Chicago and Wisconsin—both very different and both very beautiful. She adores the internet (which still seems magical after all these years), loves coffee, hiking, attempting gardening (without much success), cooking and knitting. Readers (and other potential gardeners, cooks, knitters, writers, etc.) can visit Myrna online at www.myrnamackenzie. com, or write to her at PO Box 225, La Grange, IL 60525, USA.

To the ladies of The Daisy Morris Nutrition and Activity Center in Campbell, Missouri, my home town.

This one’s for you!

Dear Reader,

A runway model and a cowboy? How is that going to work? I thought, when Ivy Seacrest and Noah Ballenger walked into my imagination.

Ivy:

 Tall, thin and ethereal, almost fragile-looking. A strong Montana wind would surely blow her over.

 Her face has launched a thousand products.

 She knows about make-up and hair, and she likes cute little scarves and belts that don’t belong anywhere near a ranch.

Noah:

 A man born to roam the land.

 He’s big and rugged and not always careful about what he says.

 He knows about horses and hay and how to rope a steer, and he doesn’t get into town too often…by choice.

These two are going to be trouble, I thought. How am I ever going to get them to hook up or even get along for more than five minutes?

Then things got worse. Ivy, I found out, couldn’t look at Noah’s child without having her heart rip in two. Noah couldn’t stand the fact that anyone would shy away from his baby. What was more, Ivy, it seemed, had a sassy mouth on her, and Noah wasn’t used to that! Really, these two gave me fits…right up until the day they stopped…and made my heart melt.

Welcome to the runway…and the ranch. It’s going to get warm in here—in the best way possible. I hope you enjoy the show.

Best wishes,

Myrna Mackenzie

PROLOGUE

IVY SEACREST STRUGGLED to keep her chin high and her backbone straight. She forced herself to stare directly at Melanie Pressman. “Are you sure you don’t have any openings at the diner? I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Melanie’s smile was small and condescending. “Afraid not. I’d like to do something for an old…friend, but I just don’t have a thing.”

Right. Ivy and Melanie had never been friends. They’d never been anything, even when Ivy had been living here in Tallula, Montana, ten years ago.

Given the situation, Ivy knew the smart thing to do was hold on to the few shreds of pride she still retained after these past few days of begging for a job and just walk away. Melanie wasn’t going to help her any more than anyone else had. But her situation was desperate enough that Ivy had to try one more time. Looking around to see what menial position she could volunteer for, she opened her mouth.

The bell over the door jingled as Melanie’s portly husband, Bob, entered the diner. He smiled. “Hey, Ivy. I heard you were back in town. You staying for a while?”

Ivy nodded even though she wasn’t planning on staying any longer than she had to. She turned back to face Melanie, but even the small smile was missing from the woman’s face now. Ivy could practically feel the cold blowing off the woman. It had been that way with almost every married woman in town. As if they thought she had come here expressly to lead their husbands down the path of sin.

“I could clean,” she told Melanie, knowing that even that was futile now. Melanie had the look of a woman out to protect her territory.

“I told you no,” Melanie said. “I don’t have any jobs open at all. Nobody here in town does.”

Which came as no surprise. This had been Ivy’s last chance, and she wouldn’t even have tried it, knowing how slim her odds were, if she hadn’t needed the money so badly.

She turned to leave.

“Nobody in town, I guess,” Bob said, “but I heard that Noah Ballenger was looking to hire a ranch hand.”

Even though Ivy’s back was turned, she heard Melanie’s hiss behind her. “Ivy’s a fashion model. Don’t you know that? She doesn’t hang out with ranchers and people like us anymore. She doesn’t do ranch chores. Things have changed.”

They certainly had, Ivy thought as she stalked toward the door. Her world had come tumbling down. She’d lost everything that mattered. The pain and the memories threatened to make her stumble, but somehow she stayed on her feet.

“I’ll try that. Thank you, Bob,” she managed to say.

“Stupid man. Noah’s not going to hire her, and he’s not going to thank you, Bob,” Melanie said as Ivy left the diner.

Ivy knew that both of those statements were probably true.

Too bad I can’t afford to care, she thought as she headed down the road that led to Noah Ballenger’s ranch.

Chapter One

NOAH BALLENGER SQUEEZED the telephone receiver so hard it felt as if it might break in his hand. “What do you mean Ivy Seacrest is on her way over here to apply for a job as a ranch hand? Because you told her I was hiring? Well…untell her. You should know that I can’t hire her. She doesn’t belong here, and I don’t have anything that a woman like her could actually do. I don’t care that she was raised in Tallula. She was a princess when she lived here and she’s been an international model for ten years. Whatever she wants, I don’t have it here and I never will.”

The answer came swiftly. It was too late to retract whatever had been said earlier. Ivy was already on her way, and no one in town knew how to reach her. Noah would have to be the bad guy and tell her no.

He frowned at the telephone and hung up. Ivy Seacrest? Not going to happen.

Noah had hardly known Ivy when she’d lived here. She’d been only eighteen when she’d left, four years younger than Noah. What little he did know from what he’d heard and the little he’d seen was that Ivy had possessed the type of rare beauty that had made people sit up and notice, and pretty much every man in town would have killed just to get her to smile at him. Noah had been the exception. He’d spent his younger years living, breathing and learning the ranch empire that had been in his family for generations and would one day be his, and when Ivy had been old enough for him to notice properly, he’d been away at college…falling in love with a woman who was totally wrong for a rancher. A woman who had nearly broken him in more ways than one. A woman not much different from Ivy.

Because of that experience, that woman, that completely misplaced and impossible obsession of his, other shaky dominoes had been put into play.

Old, nearly forgotten pain tinged with a sense of betrayal ricocheted through Noah, but he let it come. He needed to remember that because of his bad experience with Gillian, he had gone on to do things he regretted. Terribly. All because he was stupid enough to forget that Ballenger Ranch was his world, his destiny. It was his legacy to his baby daughter, and nothing and no one who didn’t fit with that image belonged here.

Ivy Seacrest was an exotic interloper from some other world. She didn’t belong in this town that had been built on cattle. He had no idea why she would even return to Tallula, since she hadn’t come back when her father had died a year ago. He sure as hell had no idea why she would try to hire on as a ranch hand. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Something to do with her modeling career.

He didn’t know or care, but no way was he letting her on his ranch. He’d done his stint with beautiful, misplaced women. One of them had broken his heart. Another had betrayed him and his child, because she’d changed her mind about being a rancher’s wife after the deed was already done.

He was through with all that. No more women.

“Turn your pretty butt around, Ivy,” he muttered. “I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news.”

But he would do what he had to do. And what he had to do right now was send Ivy Seacrest packing.

Ivy stared at the long, low ranch house and nearly stumbled. She tried not to think about what she was about to do, what she had to do. Voluntarily spend time on a ranch, a world that she had sworn never to return to, a world filled with harsh and devastating memories. No choice. Absolutely no choice, she told herself. Just do it. Grit your teeth and do it.

Easy to say, but first she had to get Noah Ballenger to hire her, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be easy. Heck, it might be impossible.

No, I won’t let it be impossible. I’m not letting him stop me, just because he doesn’t like me.

She wasn’t just kidding herself about Noah not liking her, either. When she had lived here ten years ago, Noah had been the only man who hadn’t liked her. Or who hadn’t appeared to notice her…which, back then, was pretty much the same thing.

Lots of girls had disliked her. That much was evident by how many times in the past few days she’d been turned down for jobs by those girls turned women.

But she had to have work, and ranching, much as she loathed it, even though it brought back awful, tragic memories, was the one thing other than modeling that she knew how to do. With modeling no longer an option, it was the only thing she knew how to do.

A wave of panic hit her, thinking about being back on a ranch. Living the life that had trapped her and obsessed her father so much that nothing else had ever mattered…including the health of his wife and the well-being of his child.

Barraged by bad memories, Ivy still kept walking. Sometimes you had to go through fire to break free, and this job on this ranch was her ticket out of this town that had killed her mother and had nearly killed her own spirit. Noah Ballenger was her only hope.

Ivy started walking faster. Get this over with. Get it done. Keep working until you’ve got enough money and then run away again as quickly as you can.

She nearly sprinted to the door. There she took long, deep breaths. As ticked off as Melanie had been, she had probably called Noah to warn him that Ivy was headed his way, so with a little luck Noah would be at the house.

Still, Ivy hesitated. After hurrying to the door, she was suddenly hit with a wave of pure fear. Growing up on her father’s ranch, she’d felt trapped, beaten down, with her whole identity ripped away from her. Now she was volunteering to step back into that kind of life. Was she insane?

No, I’m desperate. Just knock on the door, say whatever you have to say to get a job. This is only temporary. It won’t be like the last time.

She was on the verge of almost being prepared mentally when the door swung open wide, and the entrance was blocked by a large, broad-shouldered man. Ivy surprised herself by having to look up. A tall woman, she was used to being at eye level with most men. Noah Ballenger was obviously taller than most men.

He was, she noted, like a wall. Big, imposing, dark haired and, from the forbidding look in his amber eyes, not happy to see her.

She wanted to close her eyes and run back to New York. Instead, she forced herself to stay rooted to the spot. She swallowed and tried to control her racing heartbeat and her breathing. “Hello,” she managed to say, holding out her hand. “You probably don’t remember me, Mr. Ballenger. My name’s Ivy Seacrest. I used to live on the Seacrest Shores Ranch. I understand that you’re hiring a ranch hand, and I’m here to apply for the job.”

Ivy tried a professional-looking smile. It should have been easy. Her smile had once been her fortune. She’d been able to turn it on and off at will. But Noah was looking at her as if she was something…unpleasant. She just couldn’t manage to make that smile work.

“I remember your family. I know who you are,” he said without a trace of warmth in his voice.

She wondered what he remembered. There was plenty to remember, most of it bad.

“Bob Pressman told me that you were looking for a hired hand. I’d like to apply.”

He gazed down at her with eyes that had been known to cause women in the town to melt. Ivy had heard the stories, heard the audible sighs, but right now she didn’t have the luxury of melting, even though she felt trapped and overwhelmed by his gaze, her heart thundering. What she had was the distinct feeling that Noah was going to try to brush her off quickly.

“Maybe we could discuss this in your office,” she suggested, holding out her hand and taking a small step forward in the hope that he would simply step aside and let her cross the threshold.

Bad idea. He moved, but forward, blocking her and bringing her outstretched fingertips into contact with his chest.

He looked down at her hand, not budging. She could feel the warmth of his skin seeping through the white cotton of his shirt, and her breathing kicked up a notch. There was something very virile about this man, something a bit wild lurking beneath the surface.

Noah Ballenger would be a hard man to handle. That was bad. Ivy was used to handling most men, and the ones she hadn’t been able to had almost destroyed her.

She jerked her hand away. “Excuse me. I’m sorry. I—”

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you even want a job here? The word is that you hated ranching. You took off as soon as your looks won you a modeling contract. Don’t try to tell me that you’ve rediscovered a love of the land.”

Ivy looked way up into those amber eyes again, trying not to wince at Noah’s reference to her looks. Her appearance had been the one thing she’d been able to count on, but the scars she bore now were a painful and constant reminder of the day everything she valued had been torn from her.

To her surprise, Noah was no longer frowning. His expression suggested a genuine need to know why she was here. But he still hadn’t budged or suggested that he might grant her an interview.

She didn’t want to have to explain herself.

But it didn’t look as if she had a choice.

“Modeling isn’t an option anymore.” She had grown used to saying the words, so she could do it now without a trace of emotion in her voice, even though the frantic fear at having no way to make a living lurked right beneath the surface, threatening her composure.

He stared at her for a few seconds, the intensity of his expression making her feel naked, nervous. She had a terrible need to duck her head, look down, hide what he was seeing. Even worse, his scrutiny of her damaged face was threatening her composure. She had an awful inclination to go back, relive those devastating moments two years ago. Don’t, don’t think about that day, please don’t. The words spilled out into her consciousness, saving her, and somehow she managed to keep staring directly at him. She forced herself not to remember the terrible, heartrending things that had brought her here to his door.

His nod was almost as brusque as hers had been. “If you say it’s not an option, that’s your choice, but that still doesn’t explain your sudden interest in ranching when you hated it before.”

Panic began to swirl within her. She didn’t want to talk about her motives. “Does it matter? As long as I can do the job?”

“It depends,” he said. “If I wasn’t sure a man could do the job he claimed he could do, if his motives were suspect or if I would have to start the hiring process over in a few days because he decided that he’d changed his mind about working here, I’d ask a lot of questions.”

She stood there, staring into those eyes. He didn’t back down. Finally she looked away.

“Fair enough,” she said. “I’m here because the taxes are due on my parents’…that is, on my ranch and I don’t have the money.”

“And you want to keep the property.”

She shook her head. Hard. No, she hated that ranch. Just being there these past few days had brought back bitter memories. “I want to sell the ranch, but I have to pay the taxes before I can do that.” Did the desperation show in her voice? Did she have any pride left at all?

Not much. She’d lost her pride along with her son, her husband and her career in a car crash two years ago, but she wasn’t sharing any of that with this man.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this. You have the right to ask me why I want the job. The answer is the same one many other people would give. I need work. I know ranching.”

“You hate it. That fact still stands.”

She wouldn’t deny it. Ranching had ruled her father’s world. It hadn’t been good to her.

“I know how to do the work.”

He looked doubtful. He looked as if she could tell him that she’d won the Ranch Hand of the Year award and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to him.

“Why not take a job in town?”

Ivy took a deep breath. Should she tell him that she’d been turned away without an interview for every job the town had to offer? That snide smiles had accompanied the “Sorry, but no” responses she’d received?

No. Those were Noah’s neighbors and friends.

“That’s not an option, either,” she said. And, in truth, those had been jobs that were outside her skill set anyway. This one wasn’t.

He was slowly shaking his head. “You seem to have ruled out a lot of options, lady. But working here…it’s just not possible.”

“I’ll work hard,” she promised.

“I never said you wouldn’t.”

“So hire me. I heard that you needed someone.”

“I need a big someone.”

“I’m big.”

For a minute she almost thought he was going to smile. He rubbed one hand over his jaw as if to hide his amusement. “You’re tall. I need someone beefy.”

“I’ll eat more.”

Now he did smile. Just a little. “Ivy…”

“I can do this, Noah.”

He shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Ivy, but you’ll find something else. Something will open up in town. I need a man.”

Now she visibly bristled. “That’s discrimination. It’s illegal.”

“So sue me.”

As if he knew that she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. There just wasn’t time, even if she had the money for a lawyer. And if she had money, she would have already paid the taxes and left town.

“Aren’t you even going to invite me in? Can’t we talk about this? You could give me…I know…you could give me a test. Let me do some chores just to show you—”

“No,” he said stopping her. “I’m sorry, Ivy. It’s not happening. Goodbye.”

With that, he stepped back and shut the door right in her face.

Ivy stood there for a few minutes. Anger, red and hot and simmering, bubbled inside her. Then she turned and walked away. And kept walking until she was out of sight of the house.

Forget it. It’s over, she thought. What was she going to do?

She stopped and looked out over the land, at the barns and outbuildings, the machinery and fences. She could almost hear her father saying, “The land will never let you down.” Maybe not, but it had stolen her life. His obsession with ranching had cost her a childhood, a father and her mother’s life.

Still, standing there gazing at Noah’s ranch, one much larger and more successful than her city-bred father’s had been, she remembered helping pull a calf, feeding cattle in winter. She still knew how to do these things. And doing them would pay her way out of Tallula again. If she could just make it happen.

Turning toward the house again, she remembered Noah’s last words. It’s not happening.

“Maybe not, Noah,” she whispered. “But it won’t be for lack of trying. You haven’t seen the last of me.”

Noah stared out the window, watching Ivy’s retreating back and feeling like the biggest jerk on earth. She walked away tall and proud, but he’d seen the stark disappointment in her eyes before she’d gone.

Not that that changed anything. He’d lived on this ranch all his life. It had been his since his father’s death five years ago, and he had hired and fired a number of people during that time. Ballenger Ranch was what he would leave to his little girl when he was gone, and two-and-a-half-year-old Lily was the most important part of his world. He couldn’t gamble with the ranch. He needed good, solid people working here.

Not someone who would hate the lifestyle and fly away at a moment’s notice, leaving him in the lurch. He needed someone committed to ranching, and he knew all too well about people who weren’t cut out for this life. He had a child with an absentee mother who was living proof of that.

It was his duty to protect his child from more cut-and-run people. So, much as he felt bad for Ivy’s financial difficulties, much as he admired her for having the guts to ask him for this job again once he’d turned her down, he still couldn’t deny that she didn’t belong here.

While they’d been talking, he had been assessing. She was thin, almost fragile looking. Whether it was because of years of enforced model thinness or something else, he didn’t know.

What he knew was that fragile didn’t play well on a ranch.

“You could give me a test,” she’d said, with those big blue-violet eyes practically snapping. Modeling wasn’t an option anymore, she’d said. She’d reached up as if to touch her face, and he’d seen that her small nose bore a crease; her lips looked as if a part of them had been erased at one edge. He didn’t know where she’d gotten those scars, but the scars didn’t seem to matter to his body. Everything male in him had made him want to look closer.

And that, above all, let him know that she didn’t belong here. She wasn’t built for this life, and he couldn’t survive mucking things up with a woman again. His soul just couldn’t handle that kind of damage anymore. But more important than that, there was Lily to consider.

His daughter and the ranch were his world now. Forever. Both of them came before any needs or desires of his. Anyone who came here had to pass his Lily test. They couldn’t negatively impact his world. So no, he couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by a pair of pretty, blue-violet eyes or long legs or sun-kissed blond hair.

But he hoped that Ivy found some sort of work soon. He hoped she made enough money quickly. Then she’d be gone, and that would be a good thing, because he didn’t trust himself to run into her in town and not appear interested.

That night after dinner he took Lily from Marta, his housekeeper babysitter, and went onto the porch to watch the sun going down. Brody, his foreman, was walking toward the house.

“I just got back from an errand in town. Word on the street is that Ivy Seacrest applied here today as a ranch hand,” Brody said. The man’s interest looked to be more than casual, and Noah remembered that Brody and Ivy were somewhere near the same age.

“Forget it, Brody. I’m not hiring Ivy so that you’ll have something prettier to look at than cows or the other hands. She’s not coming back.”

And Noah continued to think that right up until the moment he walked into his barn the next morning and found Ivy pitching hay into one of the horse stalls.

“Good morning, Noah,” she said.

Ivy’s hair was a color that defied description. Strands of honey were mixed with palest tan and pure blond, making a man want to look closer and let the strands slip between his fingertips. Her eyes were eager, her smile bright. Noah felt as if he’d been punched in the chest, so aware of the woman was he. He wasn’t even going to allow himself to let his gaze drop to the way her pale blue shirt and denim jeans fit her curves. The fact that he was noticing any of this at all was bad news.

“Good morning, Ivy,” he said. “Now, if I could just have my pitchfork back, I’ll point you toward the door. I meant what I said yesterday.”

Her smile froze. Her shoulders slumped just a trace before she caught herself.

“It was worth a try,” she said. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

Too late, he thought. She was already bothering him. He was already thinking about her and worrying about her. It was a sickness, this fear that he would make another misstep with a woman.

Which didn’t change a darned thing. “Not a problem,” he said. “I admire your tenacity. I wish you luck.”

She handed him the pitchfork, and even through the rough gloves she wore he was aware of her slender hands, those long fingers.

“You could have let her try,” Brody said, coming up behind him once Ivy had gone.

With a swift turn of his body, Noah faced Brody. “I did that once. I let Pamala try to play at being a rancher’s wife. And where is she now? She’s in California, playing at her new role of wannabe actress. She didn’t even care enough about Lily to say goodbye. What am I going to tell my child when she wants to know why her mother never comes to see her? You think I want to expose her to more of that when Ivy is cut from the same cloth as Pamala was?”

Brody’s face paled, but he didn’t drop his gaze.

“You can’t live your life letting your mistake with Pamala color everything you do.”

Of course, Pamala had not been his first or only mistake with a woman, but that was none of Brody’s business.

“Watch me,” Noah said. “Ivy’s not working here. I’ll get the women in town to put some basic supplies together so that she’s fed and clothed. But I am not giving her a job. And that’s final.”

No matter what she did or said, she was never going to be a part of Ballenger Ranch.

Chapter Two

SHE HAD TOLD NOAH that she wouldn’t bother him anymore, so why was she out here repairing a section of fence?

Ivy wrestled with her conscience. She acknowledged that simply trying to stay out of the man’s way while still attempting to impress him with her ability to do the job was pushing the limits. But what could she do? She needed money to survive. If she could earn enough money to pay the taxes, she could sell the ranch. Then she could hide for a long time. No facing reporters wanting to ask her how losing Bo and Alden and her famous face had changed her life. It had been two years, but just as soon as she thought everyone had forgotten about her, some new model would shoot to the forefront and the reporters would seek her out again for a “whatever happened to” segment, and she just couldn’t do that.

She’d enjoyed modeling and her looks had brought her honest work, but how she felt about the loss of those looks was…complicated. Her scars were a reminder of a life she had loved and lost, but even more than that, they were a reminder of her failure to save her baby, and she never hid them with makeup. She had lived while Bo died. She couldn’t forgive herself for that, but she wouldn’t discuss it, either. No. She needed anonymity and enough money to allow her to disappear.

So, yes, she felt guilty about her impulsive comment to Noah, but she couldn’t give up. Taking her pliers in her gloved hand, she snipped the wire and pounded the staple home, snugging up the wire.

“Nice job, but it won’t work, Ivy. Most of my fences are in good repair.”

She whirled, and there he was. “How did you sneak up on me like that?”

“Applesauce knows how to be quiet.” He patted the big black gelding.

“Applesauce? He looks more like a Thunder or Killer.”

Noah almost smiled. “My daughter named him.”

Daughter. Child. He had one. Hers was gone. The familiar arrow of pain bit deep, but she was ready. She’d heard that he had a child, so she was able to keep from crumbling. This time.

“She’s a little young to be naming horses, isn’t she?”

“Lily’s almost three, but she loves horses and she also loves—”

“Applesauce,” they said at the same time.

Ivy let that sink in. A man who would risk being ribbed by other men for riding a horse with a silly name in order to make a child happy seemed more human than she wanted to acknowledge.

“The horse is irrelevant, though,” he said. “I’m not hiring you, Ivy. You’re wasting your time and mine.”

Okay, no matter that she was touched by his regard for his daughter, Noah was never going to be on her list of favorite men. If she had such a list, that is.

“You haven’t even given me a chance.”

“I don’t have to. I own the ranch and I call the shots.”

Desperation began to crawl through her bloodstream as she felt her last chance slipping away. “So you’ll hire a man with inferior skills just so you won’t have to hire a woman.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“The fact that you won’t even test my skills implies as much.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to hire an insubordinate employee.”

“I wouldn’t be insubordinate.”

He chuckled. “Ivy, you’re arguing with me. Isn’t that the definition of being insubordinate?”

She frowned. “I know how to follow directions and be submissive.” Unfortunately she knew that all too well. And the word submissive…maybe that hadn’t been the best choice. He was looking at her as if she’d said something sexual. Then he swore.

“I’m sorry. You obviously have your reasons for pursuing this, but I have my reasons for saying no. It’s not happening, Ivy.”

She opened her mouth.

He groaned. “Give up, Ivy.”

Something inside her cried out at the injustice, but she knew when she was beaten. She’d traveled this “no way to win” path before. In this very town. On the ranch she’d grown up on.

Pocketing her pliers, she turned to walk away.

“You don’t have to walk. I’ll arrange for you to ride.”

She stopped, tipped her head back as she pivoted and stared up at him. “No. You have only one thing I want and that’s all I’ll accept from you.” A ride was a pity gesture. She had what it took to do this job, even if Noah couldn’t see it. Walking home was nothing. Deciding where she went with her life from here? That was the difficult part.

Still, she wouldn’t let him see her fear. A frightened woman wouldn’t change his mind. Ivy squared her shoulders and marched away. She and Noah were done, unless…

Stop it, she told herself. There won’t be any unless. He’s made that clear.

But then, she’d always had a stubborn, rebellious streak. Sometimes a good dose of stubborn was all a person had to see them through the day.

“What’s that you’re eating, pumpkin?” Noah asked his daughter.

Lily held out one chubby little hand, in which she clutched a mangled piece of toast with jam. She looked up at him with her huge blue eyes and smiled. “Cook-ie,” she said with a little laugh.

Noah wiggled his eyebrows. “That looks like toast to me.”

Lily giggled. “Cook-ie,” she insisted.

“Marta, are you giving our girl cookies for breakfast?” he asked incredulously.

Marta gave a dramatic sigh. “She insisted.”

Noah shook his head. He pointed to the toast. “No cookies for breakfast, Lily.”

“Cookie,” she said with another laugh, her blond curls swaying as her little body rocked with delight at this strange little routine she and her daddy had somehow fallen into.

Noah did his best to look stern. “Okay, hand over the cookie, Lilykins.”

And here came the good part, the part she loved. “No. Toast,” she said with great relish and popped a piece into her mouth.

“Ah, you are a clever one, sweetheart,” he told her. “And a stubborn one. You know how to get your way when you want to.”

He was still thinking about that when he wandered outside to work. In her own way, Ivy reminded him of Lily. Stubborn and determined and proud and hard to resist.

Noah stopped in his tracks. That was a road he didn’t want to travel. Ivy had no business invading his thoughts. That was how all bad things with women started—when you let ones you had nothing in common with start creeping into your thoughts uninvited. Next thing you knew you were in high water, unable to get back to shore or swim against the strength of the current, and they were leaving you. Or even worse, they were leaving Lily. Hurting her. Without so much as a drop of remorse.

Noah growled.

“Bad night?” Brody asked, coming up beside him in the barn.

“You sound hopeful.”

Brody laughed. “Not at all, but if you did have a bad night, your day isn’t going to be any better. Ed broke his leg last night and he’s out of commission. Now we’re down two hands instead of just one.”

Noah’s growl turned into a blue streak of cussing.

“Is that any way for a daddy to talk?”

“No, but Lily’s inside, and I have good reason to swear. I recognize that look in your eyes.”

“What look is that?”

“It’s the ‘I’m holding a good hand’ look. You’ve wiped the floor with me at poker that way before, so let’s not play games. Say what you’ve got to say.”

“Okay, I will. The thing is…Ivy isn’t just nice to look at. She’s a determined worker. I saw her wade in and rescue a calf yesterday that had gotten caught in some muck.”

“She did what? And you didn’t tell me?”

“No point in telling you when you weren’t listening.”

“She was going. She wasn’t coming back.” But in Noah’s mind he heard Lily holding a piece of toast and telling him that it was a cookie while she laughed at her own joke. Ivy might have left and intimated that she wasn’t coming back, but she obviously had a stubborn streak as wide as his daughter’s.

Now Brody was shaking his head. “She sure did a number on you, didn’t she?”

Noah didn’t ask who. Brody didn’t know the half of what his wife had done or about the woman preceding her. And Noah had had enough. Without saying another word, he turned toward his car.

“If you’re looking for Ivy, she’s out at the corral getting acquainted with Bruiser.”

Noah’s heart lurched. “And you let her? I should have got rid of that horse long ago. I’ve been meaning to. Have to before Lily starts roaming around outside.”

“I get the feeling Ivy isn’t the kind of woman a man lets do anything. She has a mind of her own.”

But Noah was through listening. Brody was clearly besotted and worthless where Ivy was concerned. Instead Noah made a beeline for the corral where Bruiser was penned alone. He had bought the horse one insane day a year ago when he’d finally realized that Pamala was never going to even make an attempt to be a mother. He’d been counting on the hope that once Lily got past the tiny baby stage and turned cute as all get-out, Pamala might at least try to show up and be a mother occasionally. But he’d thought wrong. He’d raged against Pamala’s coldhearted betrayal of her own child, but there had been nothing he could do.

He’d been in the mood to go up against someone his own size, and Bruiser had seemed like a creature who was more than willing to meet the challenge. He and the horse had ridden the hills, fighting each other, each one half-crazy and wild. Although there was evidence that the big horse had been abused at one time—there were scars on his back and flanks—he and Noah were a match. They had ended that long ride with an understanding, a wary respect for each other, but Bruiser didn’t tolerate anyone else. As big as he was and with that surely volatile history, he was too dangerous to keep on a ranch with a young child who promised to grow up unpredictable.

Noah already had misgivings about his abilities as a parent. He’d made mistakes, he’d failed Lily on many occasions and in many ways, and worst of all, he hadn’t been able to stop Pamala from leaving his little girl. But he meant to do better, to be as good a father as he could, so selling Bruiser should have been an easy call. He didn’t know why he hadn’t done it already, but now he was going to have to. Apparently Ivy Seacrest was going to force his hand.

Again. Noah frowned. He rounded the barn…and came upon Ivy in the corral brushing Bruiser’s coat. The huge black creature looked more than a little nervous.

“Ivy,” Noah said softly.

She raised her head, looking almost as wary as Bruiser. Like some wild creature who had been abused and expected to be abused again.

“Shh,” she said, and she soothed her hand over the big horse’s side.

Bruiser shivered, and Noah’s breath nearly stopped. “For God’s sake, Ivy, step away from the horse. Slowly. Quietly.”

“He’s not going to hurt me.” She leaned closer to the horse.

“He’s not a lamb, Ivy. He’s big and muscular and easy to anger and—”

He stopped midthought when she smiled. The maddening woman was wedged up against the massive bulk of a nervous horse—and she was smiling. “What on earth are you smiling about?”

“Big, muscular, easy to anger,” she said. “Sounds like you.”

Suddenly he wanted to smile, too, and he would have if he hadn’t still been worried about her safety.

“I mean it, Ivy. Bruiser isn’t just any horse.”

“I know,” she said sadly, tracing a scar that ran down Bruiser’s back. “He’s been hurt.” Her voice nearly broke, but as she ran her hand over the animal, Bruiser whickered softly. He turned his head toward her and nudged her shoulder. Gently. He shivered again, and now Noah could see that Bruiser’s expression was anything but angry. That shiver hadn’t been nerves. He liked having Ivy pet him.

“You sly devil,” Noah said to the animal. “What do you know about that? It seems that my unpredictable, angry horse likes you, Ivy.” He’s got something in common with Brody, Noah thought.

“He just likes someone who understands and trusts him.” She stared at him with those big, innocent-looking blue eyes that weren’t innocent at all. She was trying to school him, and her point was clear.

Now Noah couldn’t keep from smiling. “I don’t distrust you.” It was more like himself he didn’t trust. Around her. She was far too attractive, and he was not a man who could afford to be attracted indiscriminately anymore. Still, he couldn’t stop smiling at her attitude.

“You don’t distrust me, but you’re not hiring me,” she pointed out.

“Yes, I am.”

“You are?” Her voice was so hopeful and—She obviously pushed hard against Bruiser, who whickered and sidestepped.

“Dammit, Ivy, get out of there.”

“I told you…he won’t—”

“I know what you told me, but I want you out of there.”

She raised her chin. Tall as she was, Bruiser dwarfed her height. Noah almost said “Please.” That wouldn’t be smart under the circumstances. A boss didn’t plead with his employees.

“Are you working for me or not?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes.” And giving Bruiser a hug—a hug, for heaven’s sake!—she climbed over the fence and dropped lightly to the ground beside Noah. “I’m working for you. What do you want me to do first?”

Her vault over the fence had left her standing mere inches from him, so close that if he leaned forward he could place his lips against her forehead, tangle himself in that tawny hair.

What do I want you to do? Let me touch you or…no…I want you to step away, dammit! he thought. He almost stepped back himself, fearful that he might put thoughts to deeds and actually touch her. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Tomorrow will be soon enough to start work. For now I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“I’ve met Brody.” Oh, yeah, he definitely knew that. Brody was going to be laughing…when he wasn’t drooling. Noah was going to have to make some rules about how Ivy was to be treated. By all of them.

He introduced her to Darrell.

“Delighted, Ivy,” Darrell said with a smile that Noah thought was much too wide.

“Come on,” Noah said, barely giving Ivy time to answer. “Let’s go to the house.”

Ivy stopped in her tracks. “Oh. No.”

Did she think…surely she didn’t think…“We won’t be alone,” he explained.

She blinked and tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “I didn’t think that. I just…your family will be there.”

“There’s just me and my daughter, Lily, and my housekeeper and babysitter, Marta. You’ll be in contact with them if you’re working here.”

She blanched. “I…my father never had any workers. I hadn’t thought…I thought I would just work outside with the men. I don’t need to meet your daughter.”

Something hard and flinty took shape within Noah. Pamala had not wanted children. She’d hated everything associated with her pregnancy and she’d barely looked at Lily after she’d been born. Within days, Pamala had gone. Off to California looking for something better. For the limelight. Away from her baby.

“You don’t like children.” He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice.

But when she looked up this time, her eyes were so…anguished was the first word that came to mind.

“I don’t dislike children,” she whispered. “I need to go home now. I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. To work. Outside.”

Then she fled.

Noah stood there wondering what he had done, what he had gotten all of them into. For sure it wasn’t anything good.

In the middle of the night he woke from a dream. He’d been plunging his fingers into Ivy’s hair, framing her face with his hands, kissing her and staring into those blue eyes.

This time they hadn’t been anguished. They’d been filled with passion.

But none of that was real. The reality was that Ivy Seacrest didn’t want to be near his Lily.

Finding out why would involve getting to know Ivy better, and he didn’t intend to do that. Just as soon as Ed was able to get around without crutches, he’d pay her off handsomely and send her on her way.

No more night dreams of her. He hoped.

Chapter Three

IVY IMMERSED HERSELF IN ranch work as if she really enjoyed it. She drove herself relentlessly. By the end of the first morning the pretty, crisp scarf she’d been unable to resist fastening at her neck was wilted. She was muddy and worn and she had a long scratch on her hand, the result of catching her glove on barbed wire, which tore it off and bit into her skin. Still, there was a sense that she was accomplishing something, closer to her goal of paying her debts, leaving her past and Tallula behind and getting on with her life.

That was a good thing. Of course, she knew darn well that good things didn’t last forever, and sure enough, right when she had just got knocked on her butt by a cow and had landed in a pile of muck, she looked up to find herself staring into Noah’s amber eyes.

“Need a hand?” he asked, reaching out.

She stared at his big, manly hand and knew that touching him would be a mistake. She’d already realized that he was just too potent for her. But she was his employee. He was just offering what he would offer to Brody or Darrell if either of them had landed on their backsides. Saying no to a gesture of goodwill would make something more of this than the situation merited.

She reached out, felt his hand close around hers, big and strong. She felt the kick of awareness, the heat that pooled in her body.

“Thank you,” she somehow managed to say once she was on her feet and, once again, standing much too close to the man. What was wrong with her lately, anyway? It must just be the effect of being back in a place she’d thought she had left behind long ago. She was ten years older, but nothing had changed.

Except Noah is much more potent than I remember. Ivy wanted to scream at the thought. Instead, she backed off a step and put her shaking hands behind her back.

“You okay?” he asked. “I didn’t think she nudged you that hard, but you’re pretty slight. Easily hurt.”

Ivy chuckled. “Still trying to talk me out of working for you? Too late. You’ve given me a job, and I’m not going to lose it.”

“I saw what you were doing, trying to convince that stubborn cow to accept her calf. She’s not too thrilled that you’re trying to turn her into a mama.”

“Poor little thing. Every time he gets close, she kicks out at him. He’s almost too scared to try anymore. But I’m not giving up. This is going to be a love relationship before I’m through.”

He shook his head, muttering something about “love relationship” and “city-girl nonsense.” He turned to walk away, then swung back.

“Go up to the house and tell Marta you need a change of clothes. There are some things…my wife didn’t take everything when she left. I’m sure there are some jeans you can fit into.”

Ivy could see that he didn’t like talking about his ex-wife. Well, who could blame him? She didn’t know anything about Noah’s situation, but the words when she left were pretty telling. As for his suggestion that she go up to the house? Panic began to beat within her chest.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Ivy,” he drawled.

“Noah,” she drawled right back.

“I expect my employees to be sensible. You’re not acting sensible. Brody and Darrell live on the ranch, and all their things are here, so there’s no problem if they need to clean up. You’ve got nothing here.”

Which said a whole lot about her situation in Tallula. She was an outsider, and she did have nothing here. Not just on this ranch, but in this whole region. But Noah had given her a job. He was trying to be nice. And she was a mess, with a half day of chores still to go. All she had to do was go to the house, quickly change and get back to work. The little girl might not even be around.

“Thank you for offering,” she said. “I should remember to leave some clothes here in future.” And with great determination, ignoring the tortured pounding of her heart, she started toward the house.

Noah’s hand on her arm stopped her. The man must walk like a cougar. She hadn’t even heard him coming. She looked up into his eyes.

“What exactly is it about my daughter that bothers you so much?”

They stood there, connected, their eyes locked for several seconds. Then Ivy blinked.

“How much time do you spend on this ranch, Noah?”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Most of it. Why?”

“I see. Well, that explains things.”

He looked perplexed. “Maybe you should explain to me.”

She took a deep breath. “You know that I became a model after I left here?”

“Of course. Everybody knows that.”

“But you don’t know anything about me beyond that.”

“I’ve been a bit busy. I must have let my copy of Elle expire.”

“Oh, that was wicked, Noah.”

“I try.”

Ivy almost smiled, except…now came the tough part. She hesitated, then opened her mouth to speak.

He shook his head. “I don’t know anything, Ivy, because I don’t tune in to gossip. Plus…I really had no right to ask that question. You’re here to work, and your skills and dependability are all that matter. I shouldn’t have gone all Papa Bear on you and asked. I retract my question.”

Somehow that made it easier. “No, I want to explain. I don’t want you to think that I dislike her. It’s just—when I told you that modeling wasn’t an option anymore…I was in a car accident a couple of years ago. That’s where I got these scars.” She touched her face. Some days she missed the profession she’d loved, but there were things so much more important than being pretty. She would lose more, give more, if only…

“My husband was killed,” she rushed on, “and…and my little boy was…he was, too. So please don’t think I have anything against your Lily, Noah. It’s not that at all. I just…” She bit down to keep her lips from trembling.

“Ivy, I’m—damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He slid his hand up her arm and across her cheek. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “I’m so sorry. Next time you just tell me to shut up.”

Ivy felt as if her body was being taken to another plane. She was aware of every inch of her skin Noah touched. And his concern—that rough quality in his voice—made her want to lean close, touch him, too. She hadn’t had anyone other than doctors touch her in two years.

That thought stopped everything. If she reacted to the sensation of Noah’s skin against her own, it was just because this was the first time. She struggled for something smart-mouthed to say, anything to distract her attention from the physical contact between them. What had he said to her?

She found a tiny half smile somewhere. “I’ve never had a boss tell me that I should tell him to shut up.”

“You’ve probably never had a boss who made such a boneheaded misstep.”

Finally she found her footing and gave him a real, whole smile. “You’ve clearly never been a model if you think that.”

The laugh that emanated from his body traveled through his skin, the vibration pulsing in his fingers that were still touching her face. As if he realized what he was doing to her, he lowered his arm. “Yeah, no modeling for a rough guy like me.”

Although, in her mind, he could name his price if he went into modeling. Women would empty their piggy banks just to get him to take his shirt off.

“I’ll just go to the house and get something for you,” he said. “There’s an empty crew house over the rise. It’s not much, but you can use it while you’re here.”

“I don’t like acting weak,” she confessed.

“Lady, you hugged Bruiser. You took a shove from a cow that weighs ten times what you do. Weak is not a word I’d use with you.”

“What words would you use with me?” Where had that come from? “That came out wrong. Let’s just not go there,” she corrected.

“Too late,” he said with a wink. “I have three words to describe you right now. Stubborn, sassy and…in need of clean jeans.”

“That’s more than three words.”

He chuckled. “Roll with it. Ranching demands flexibility.”

Noah turned to leave. Then he quickly turned back. “You’re bound to run across her now and then while you’re here. Can you handle it?”

Ivy nodded tightly. “I’m so sorry about this, Noah. I’m sure your child is sweet, and I would never want to do anything that would hurt her. I just…I’m still working things through, and right now…”

He held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain. If anything happened to Lily, I’d be insane. Everything I do, say or am right now and for the next twenty years or so revolves around her. Every decision I make deals with her. I never forget that, so while I can’t possibly put myself in your shoes, I can understand why being around her is a problem for you. I—you know how temporary this job is, don’t you?”

“Yes. I don’t need it to be anything else. I’m not staying.”

“Good. I can’t and won’t hide my child away, but since you won’t be here long, we can make concessions that wouldn’t work out if you were long-term. What I’m saying is that I’ll do my best to make any contact between you as brief as possible. Will that work for you?”

“Yes.”

She would make it work. Somehow she would manage to make all of this work.

And she would not think of Noah as anything other than her boss. She definitely wouldn’t allow herself to remember how much she had liked having his fingers against her skin.

“Yeah, I’ll get right to not remembering that,” she muttered to herself as he strode toward the house and she tried not noticing how long and strong his legs were.

Why had she ever imagined that working for Noah would be smart?

Noah carried the jeans out to Ivy. Just pretend you don’t even know that in a few minutes she’s going to slip out of her clothes and pour her long, slender body into these, Ballenger, he told himself, struggling to do just that.

“They might be a bit short,” he told her, his fingertips brushing hers as he handed them over. A zing of male awareness ricocheted through his body at the touch. Ignore that, he ordered himself.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you,” she said softly.

“Here, I’ll show you the cottage. It’s been empty for a while, so I’m not too sure how things look inside.”

They looked pretty bad. When he opened the door and saw the layer of dust and the sad and shabby furnishings, the first thought he had was that she had been a model. This would look like a hovel to her.

“It needs work,” he said, stating the obvious.

“I like work.”

“Well, then, you’re going to love this place.” He stepped past her to pull open a shade, and as he did, his body brushed hers. Was that hiss of awareness coming from him or from her?

Noah looked into her eyes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could tell that she wasn’t unaffected by him.

Too bad. The lady’s off-limits. “I’ll just let you get to…”

Undressing.

“Business,” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t sound hoarse. “And I’ll get back to mine.”

Probably best to leave Ivy to Brody’s care, he thought, heading back to the house. But something stubborn and strong inside him didn’t like that idea.

So deal with it. He’d obviously been on the ranch too long; his reaction to her was beyond hot. But there was nothing he could do about that. He and Ivy had a deal. He would keep Lily away from her, and Ivy would leave as soon as this job ran out.

That thought strengthened him. He’d been an idiot before, but all of that was pre-Lily. There were serious, long-term consequences to his actions now. He couldn’t afford to do anything stupid.

Ivy Seacrest would be just another hand to him from now on. The fact that she made him break out in a cold sweat couldn’t matter.

Three days passed, and Ivy tried to work and not pay attention to anything else going on around the ranch. She tried not to notice her aching muscles or the fact that her ranching skills were rusty. She especially tried not to remember how she had reacted to Noah in that split-second brush of his body against hers when he had moved to open the shades.

“Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered beneath her breath. For two long years she had not had one whit of an interest in men. Life had jerked her around too much and all the bad times had boiled down to her dealings with men who had ruined her life—her father who had destroyed her mother with his blind, obsessive devotion to his ranch, and her husband, Alden, whose obsessions that blinded him to others’ feelings had destroyed everything else that had mattered to her. She would never get involved with another man who wore blinders, and it was clear that Noah did.

That comment about Elle magazine had been funny, but it had obviously also been true. Despite his comment about gossip, he had to have been out roaming the range not to have known anything about her past, given the way the paparazzi had covered her accident.

Or maybe he’d been mourning the loss of his wife, she thought. But even that was evidence of how much he cared about this ranch. She’d heard that his ex-wife had left because she hated the ranch. Yet Noah had stayed. He’d let her go.

That was none of her business, but it was just impossible to dodge. The other day when she’d shown up wearing the too-short jeans, Darrell’s eyebrows had risen.

“Noah let you wear Pamala’s pants?”

The pants were a bit loose around the waist, but Ivy had suddenly felt as if they were too tight. She’d wondered if Noah would look at her and think of his Pamala.

Brody had let out a low whistle. “They look way better on you, Ivy, even though they’re a bit high on your boots. But—damn!—I’m surprised those are even still around. I would have thought Noah would have burned those things. She sure burned him. She hated Ballenger Ranch like fire hates water.”

Ever since then, Ivy had tried not to wonder about the man who’d let his wife walk while he stayed at the ranch. It wasn’t any of her business, but she was still glad she knew. It would make it easier to think of Noah not as a man but as a man she couldn’t want. Actually, it would be best not to think of him at all, but that was impossible—a truth that was driven home when she found out that the following morning she would need to ride out on a search for lost cattle. Roping would be involved. Noah would be there.