The Rancher's Surrender Page 13

  Everyone stared at her and Zoe gritted her teeth. Oh, he was smooth. "No problem," she said sweetly, adding a sticky smile to the words as she swished by him and out the door.

  But it was a problem, a big one. She'd have to work all day with the street-smart, smart-ass, gorgeous cowboy she'd been trying not to think about for days.

  * * *

  Five minutes later, Zoe stalked into the dark, dingy barn. Energy pulsed through her, as did the need to do something—anything—to put Ty out of her head. He was like a drug in her bloodstream and she didn't understand the addiction. It had been a good choice to come here, the place was a disaster and it cleared her head.

  "The logical choice is to just give up." Zoe told this to the wood she started methodically stacking. She wore her surprise gloves, intending to clear out the piles of debris.

  Deserted.

  God, how she knew that feeling, and slowly she straightened, her troubles with Ty forgotten as she took a good look around her. Deserted. Yeah, she knew the feeling alright. Her animosity toward the barn faded at that thought. So it had seen better days, so what? With considerably more warmth now, she sighed fondly.

  It might be dirty and in need of help, but it was theirs.

  "I'll never leave you," she whispered to the empty building, meaning it with all her heart. She'd been fighting all her life, and she wouldn't stop now. "I'm not a quitter."

  It was her one strength, she allowed in a rare moment of self-discovery. Around her, the barn creaked, as if acknowledging her promise.

  "We'll be fine." With or without money, yet another worry. There wasn't enough room in her brain for it all. "I've gone hungry before," she huffed as she struggled with a heavy scrap of wood. She paused and blew hair out of her face. "And there's certainly nothing new about being the underdog."

  Watching her from the door, Ty felt his heart constrict painfully. "I hear you on that one," he said softly.

  She whipped around to face him. "I hate when you do that."

  What she hated, he thought, was the fact that he'd caught her in a moment of extreme vulnerability.

  He sympathized, but was thankful.

  Without these little moments of watching her unguarded, he might not understand her nearly so well. And he did understand her, whether she wanted to believe that or not. They were very much alike in many ways.

  "I've been fighting all my life, too," he said, stepping farther into the barn. "And I've been hungry more times than I care to remember."

  "A child should never be hungry," she said, her voice sad. "Or afraid."

  "Or alone," he agreed easily. "But we both know it's not that simple."

  "Is that why you want this land so badly?" she asked. "So that you will never be hungry or in need again?"

  "I'm not hungry or in need now."

  "So why, then? Why does the land mean so much to you?"

  He couldn't talk about Ben, he'd never been able to. But for a moment, he wished he could. Wished he could unburden his very real fear that he'd failed his brother. "It's complicated."

  She made a discouraged noise. "Everything is when it comes to you."

  "It doesn't have to be complicated between us."

  "Complicated seems to suit me." In an unusually nervous gesture, she shifted her weight back and forth. "Ty … we need to talk."

  "About?"

  "Us."

  That shocked him. "Don't tell me you've decided to admit the truth. You're crazy about me."

  Her face was comical. "Ah … not quite."

  "You're telling me you feel nothing?"

  "I'm telling you I didn't mean that kind of us."

  He sighed. "Zoe, then just say whatever the hell's on your mind. I'm tired of guessing."

  "Well…" She bit her lip, glanced at him from beneath her out-of-control hair, then took off her gloves and shoved them in her back pocket. Then she pulled them out of her pocket and put them back on. "It's about the ranch."

  She was nervous, he realized. "It's not a ranch yet."

  "I know. It's that…" A muffled oath escaped her as she turned in a slow circle, encompassing the bedraggled barn. "I really want it to be."

  "You have your loan yet?"

  "I'm getting to that." Misery spilled over her expression. "That's one of those complicated things."

  And he suddenly understood her misery. "You want to borrow the money from me."

  "Yes," she whispered, her eyes filled with uncertainty and defiance and hope and dread all at once, and they were sparkling with unshed tears, which she blinked furiously at. "The bank wasn't very interested."

  Hell, he thought as his heart constricted. He could only imagine what she'd been through that she'd admit to having trouble. "I'm sorry. Can't you try another bank?"

  "Ah … no." Her head bowed. "I tried every bank, around. I'm a bad investment." Her voice broke and so did his heart.

  "God, don't cry. It's okay, the money is yours."

  "We'll pay you back, you know." Her voice wobbled.

  "I know," he said quickly, slapping his pockets for a damn handkerchief, which of course he didn't have.

  "With interest." She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "We always pay our debts." Her breath hitched funny, sounding like a hiccuping sob.

  Damn. "It's no problem." He stepped toward her, dying to ease her pain, but she backed away, hand up to hold him off.

  "I want to draw that up in a contract," she insisted. "We won't screw you, Ty."

  He stood an inch from her, watching her struggle with pride and dignity. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. "I never thought you would," he said quietly. "I trust you, all of you."

  "Still, it's important to us that we do this legally. On the record." Her eyes went hot and filled again. "This is not charity."

  His helplessness doubled. Tripled. "Of course it's not."

  "Well, okay, then," she whispered.

  Afraid to come within ten feet of her substantially aching pride when she'd made it clear his comfort wouldn't be welcome, he slammed his hands in his pockets, but he really wanted them on her, pulling her close, holding her against him. While he was dealing with those shocking possessive thoughts, she turned on her heels and walked over to yet another pile of long-forgotten debris.

  "Let's get to work," she called out, voice gruff. "There's a lot of it."

  "Yeah." He heard her sniff and his heart squeezed again. "Let's get to work."

  * * *

  One week later, with summer in full bloom, Zoe was poring over the financial records for Triple M.

  Maddie and Delia were painting the inside of the house, and she was putting her business degree to good use after all. A burst of uncontainable excitement hit her.

  Yes, her calculator was small and ineffectual and there was too much to do. Yes, she still thought of her mother's abandonment far too often. And yes, she still dwelled every second or so on one Ty Jackson, but other than that, things were looking pretty darn good.

  "Daydreaming, Slim?"

  "Go away," she said, keeping her eyes glued to her work, because if she looked at him she might make a fool out of herself and throw herself in those capable arms.

  "You say the nicest things."

  She'd like to stop thinking about him, dwelling over the strange but unaccountable attraction that wouldn't go away. But he was around, nearly every day, and it was hard to forget someone whose face she had to constantly see. More than that, it was getting hard to forget the man who'd done nothing but help her.

  He walked into the room and around her desk. He was behind her now, she could feel him with every ounce of her being. His body heat seeped into her back, and before she could stop herself, she peeked at him over her shoulder.

  A corner of his mouth curved. "Well, hello."

  He hadn't said a word about the loan, for which she was both grateful and suspicious. He hadn't said a thing about their last conversation before that, either, the one where he'd had the nerve to demand she admit she felt somet
hing for him.

  "I'm working," she said unevenly.

  "I can see that," he said, humor heavily laced in his voice. One work-roughened finger reached out and traced over her doodlings.

  She stared at that finger. Unbidden came the erotically shattering image of what that callused finger could do to her skin. Goose bumps rose on her arm, which he promptly made all the bigger when he slowly ran his fingers over them.

  "Cold?"

  How could a voice be rough as sand and smooth as silk at the same time? And why did he affect her this way? He did it again, that little tingly thing with his fingers and she shivered violently. "Stop that!"

  "Stop looking at you?" he asked innocently.

  "Stop touching me."

  "Are you sure?" He leaned close, a corded, tanned forearm on either side of her as he planted his hands on her desk. His chest snugged up to her back, his face came close to hers. "Because while your mouth is saying one thing, Zoe," he whispered, "your body is telling me another entirely."

  She realized she'd pressed back against him, and that her nipples had hardened at his first touch and were straining eagerly against her white T-shirt. She groaned, closed her eyes and spun in her chair away from him.

  He laughed, low and husky, a sound that she reacted to with her entire body. "Guess this means you're not ready to give up the fight and jump me."

  "Not quite." But her body yearned to do just that. "Please, Ty, I need to work."

  He whistled on his way out the door, grinning broadly.

  "And just for the record," she told him haughtily, "it's cold in here."

  He laughed and shut the door.

  Leaving her alone. Again.

  * * *

  Cade called with no news. He was still waiting for the judge to open their records. Delia and Maddie took the news as due course, but Zoe nearly burst with tension.

  She had to get out for a while and walk or she thought she might go crazy. So many unanswered questions. Where was her mother now?

  Why hadn't her father and mother been together?

  Were her parents ever married?

  And why hadn't Ty kissed her again?

  She walked and walked, until she was no longer even on their own land, but Ty's. Wearing black jeans, black sneakers and a black jacket against an even blacker night, Zoe crept into his barn with a singular purpose.

  And found the colt.

  He was every bit as precious as he'd been the day he'd been born, and her heart melted as she moved close, drawn by life, drawn by hope and love. Some of her terrible inner turmoil eased, and leaning on the stall to get a better look, Zoe found herself smiling for the first time all day.

  The baby horse lifted his head and sniffed. Then, after butting gently against his momma for freedom, he bounced toward Zoe, but just as she would have been able to touch him, he bolted away.

  "He's skittish."

  Zoe gasped and whirled, blinking in the semidarkness.

  "Just me," Ty said, lifting his hands. "Seems Danny isn't the only skittish one tonight."

  "Danny?"

  Ty shrugged and reached into the stall. Danny leaped right up to him for a scratch behind his ears, which Ty obliged. Danny had been the name of Ben's stuffed horse, and from as early as he could remember, Ben had dragged that dirty, old, bedraggled horse around everywhere they'd gone. Ty had taken one look at Abby's foal and had known what his name would be. "It fit," he said, turning his attention back to Zoe. He looked down at her feet and sighed. "Tennis shoes. Again."

  "Yeah, well, boots are—"

  "Expensive, I know." His expression was grim. "You're not going to use any of the loan for yourself, are you."

  "No. I want a ranch, Ty. I know that sounds like a dumb thing for a city girl to say, but that's what I want."

  "And you want Triple M to be yours."

  She froze, shocked. Was she as transparent as that? Or did he just know her better than anyone else ever had? She recovered with effort. "Delia and Maddie deserve it every bit as much as I do," she said carefully.

  "Yes, they do." He was closer now, and she could feel the very heat and power of him, so easily and carefully restrained.

  "I understand, you know," he told her. "I feel that need to belong somewhere, too."

  In the dim light of the barn their eyes met. His were surprisingly open and warm and caring. "It doesn't make you a bad person, Zoe. Don't add guilt to your already-loaded burden."

  Did he really understand? The pain in his gaze told her he did. She'd seen flashes of his inner anguish before. What made him hurt so? Was it his past? "How do you know what it's like?"

  "I know because I came from nowhere." He let out a breath, then spoke, his reply low and harsh. "Belonged nowhere and to no one."

  She hadn't expected an answer, for he guarded his privacy as strongly as she. "What about your parents?"

  "My mother was a hooker, my father a thief." He paused. "He liked to hurt people. She liked to watch."

  Zoe hadn't known she could feel so much pain over words, simple words, but she did.

  Abby shifted, nuzzled Danny. Danny made a sound of warm contentment and pushed closer.

  Mother and baby as it should be.

  Zoe sighed. "Life sucks sometimes, doesn't it?"

  A small, humorless smile crossed his face. "Yeah, it does."

  Yet he hadn't let life get him down for long, she thought. Maybe she could understand his drive now, his need for control. He would do anything it took in order to be different from his parents, and she could respect that.

  She had to touch him more than she needed her next breath, so she took his hand, which he squeezed lightly. His eyes warmed, and she knew he realized this was the first time she had touched him first.

  "Is there anyone else in your family?" she asked.

  "No."

  There was a great, encompassing hurt in his voice now instead of anger, and she knew there was more he wasn't telling. "Did anyone help you?"

  He let out a harsh laugh. "You know what people expect of a kid like that."

  "Nothing." How well she knew.

  "Exactly." He looked at her solemnly, standing straight and tall and proud. "I wanted more than nothing, Zoe."

  She thought she could see him as a kid now, still standing straight and tall and proud, with bruises and torn clothing and nothing to eat. Her throat closed. "So here you are."

  "So here I am." His lips curved, easing his tight expression. "And here you are, too."

  She nodded and looked again at Danny, feeling wistful. "Why did you sneak in here like a thief in the night?" he asked as they turned side by side to watch his horses. She would have pulled her hand free but he held it tight in his. When their gazes met, he said, "You know you can come in here any time you want."

  She nodded. She knew.

  With a sigh, he turned her to face him. "You helped bring him into this world. You feel a bond with him."

  "I feel a bond with you," she admitted. "And I'm pretty sure I don't like it too much."

  "I like it. I like it a lot."

  At the unmistakable heat in his expression, she stepped back.

  He let out a soft, frustrated growl. "There," he accused, lifting a finger. "You just did it again. Blocked yourself off from me. You just admitted we have a bond, so what is it? Why can't you just … feel?"

  His body was close, nearly cocooning hers. Instead of intimidating, it beckoned. But she had to make one thing very clear. "Just because I took money from you doesn't mean I have to … act on what's between us."

  "This has nothing to do with the money," he assured her. "It has to do with this."

  Dragging her closer, he sandwiched her between the stall and his powerful body, then took her mouth with his.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  « ^ »

  Zoe was braced for a powerful, hot, demanding kiss, which she could have ignored. But when Ty's mouth met hers, it was slow, thorough and devastatingly gentle.

/>   Time stopped. The smells of hay and horse faded. So did the sounds of impatient hooves and the night wind. Everything faded in comparison to the sound and feel of Ty. He nibbled at the corner of her lips, outlined them with his tongue, then lightly sucked on her bottom lip until she moaned.

  Lifting his head, he cupped her face in his big hands. "Don't hide from me, Zoe. Don't fight this."

  "Fighting … is second nature." Her voice was breathless, and she realized she had plastered her body to his.

  "I know. It's a defense. I know that, too. I just want you to be honest. You act so tough, so unfeeling." He traced her jawbone with an achingly soft touch. "But it's just an act. I can see the true Zoe in your eyes, and that Zoe I see feels, laughs … loves."

  He was so close to the truth, she couldn't stand it. He was the only one to ever have cracked her emotional block wall, and it so terrified her she couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch him with wide eyes as he carefully soothed her, his voice low and soft in a way she'd heard him use on his horses, on Maddie and even Delia, but never with her.

  "Let me have that Zoe," he whispered, his arms warm and caring and oh-so-comforting as they slowly surrounded her. She could happily have drowned in them.

  Oh, why couldn't he be his usual gruff and rough self? That direct, demanding, bossy man she could have resisted. But this Ty, and the emotion he was drawing out of her, was new. It wasn't the dark, thrilling excitement she'd grown to expect, but a genuine, undeniable, irresistible affection.

  And it terrified her.

  "I won't be rushed," she said quietly. She hated the expression that crossed his face before he managed to guard it. Disappointment.

  "Why is it so hard for you?" he wondered, letting her move away from him.

  Because you never tell me how you feel. She leaned on the stables, watching the horses. Because I hate the way I feel when you touch me, completely out of control. Because I worry how I'll handle it when you decide we're done. "I just don't choose to constantly put my heart out on the line for something that's not a sure thing," she said.

  "There are no sure things." He moved beside her, restless. "But unless you try, you'll never know what might have been."

  She stared at him and he turned his head, meeting her stare unflinchingly. Waiting … waiting. But when she said nothing, could say nothing, he shook his head. "Fine, feel nothing," he said roughly. "You'll never know what you're missing."