The Rancher's Surrender Page 15

  He nodded, not knowing what to do, feeling awkward and inept with a woman for the first time since puberty.

  Then she really shocked him. She stepped toward him and with her free arm she pulled him close, drawing him into a gentle embrace that meant more than all their previous almost-violent ones had meant put together.

  He held himself rigid a moment, his pent-up frustration dictating that he not give in and yank her against him as he wanted, because it would be a weakness to show how much he needed her when she didn't need him back.

  But maybe she did need him back, just a little. She placed one arm around him now, her face open and for once free of shadows. And her eyes, God, those eyes, they pulled him right in. "Thank you," she whispered again, the soft skin of her cheek against his rough one.

  Then in her first show of trust since he'd known her, she laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled close, the kitten between them.

  God. And he was supposed to resist this? Her breath stirred gently against his neck.

  Hell, he was a goner, and with a shuddering sigh, he gave in and returned the embrace.

  He could do nothing else.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Ty had never felt quite this way before, as if he held the world—his world—in his arms. He was cold and hot at the same time, and a little dizzy, too.

  He buried his face in Zoe's sweet-scented hair and held on tight, letting out a little laugh when the kitten meowed at him. They stayed that way for a long moment, swaying gently with the morning sun warming them.

  Around them, the early dew lit up the yard like a thousand sunbeams. The air stirred lightly, reminding them that another hot summer day was on its way.

  All the problems seemed so far away.

  "Meow."

  Zoe was hesitant to let go of Ty, of this moment, even as sharp claws dug into her chest. But this incredible, nearly overwhelming feeling of being held so tight, so protectively, so carefully … she didn't want it to end.

  "Mew."

  Ty let out another little chuckle and lifted his head. "Noisy little thing."

  "He's perfect." Pretending as if being held by a strong, warm, sexy man was the norm, Zoe leaned back in his arms and stroked the kitten's head. "And I can't wait to show him to Maddie and Delia. This is exactly what they need … they've been working so hard."

  He dipped his head, ran his jaw along hers, and she savored the feel of him. "So have you," he said in her ear.

  "But it's harder on them."

  "Why is that?"

  "They're…" Well, she didn't know exactly, she just innately felt more suited to this life. She worried about that and dealt with the guilt, which was becoming harder to do with him making thinking so difficult. "It just seems to be easier for me out here. They'll just melt over the kitten, though."

  Ty remained silent, and finally she looked up into warm eyes the color of a summer storm. They were filled with things that made her feel weak and strong at the same time, things she wanted to hear him say. One big hand came up to stroke her jaw; his skin rough, his touch gentle. "Do you have any idea how much it means to me to see you like this?" he asked. "To see you let loose with a show of love for your sisters?"

  His words startled her. "You've seen that before."

  "No, I've seen you bicker with them, tease them. Show worry and anxiety over them." He never stopped touching her. "Nothing like this."

  He put a finger over her lips when she would have retorted and smiled at her. "Don't blow it, Zoe, I'm proud of you. Just let me have this moment, okay?"

  "But I do show them how I feel," she said stubbornly.

  He cocked a brow. "Do you tell them?"

  She felt the flush cover her face and pushed back from him because suddenly she needed breathing space. "This is really none of your business."

  "Don't get defensive."

  "Why does everyone always say that?" She glared at him. "Why don't I list off your faults and see how you feel?" She hitched the kitten up in one arm and lifted her other hand, one finger for each adjective. "For your information, you're demanding, bossy, arrogant, a know-it-all, temperamental—"

  "Careful, you're going to run out of fingers."

  She paused in mid-insult, then shook her head, perilously close to laughter, which had her all the more confused. Within a few moments' time, he'd brought her the full gamut of emotions. From yearning to happiness to laughter … to more yearning.

  And it occurred to her in that shocking moment of clarity that somewhere along the way, she had no idea when, she'd lost the last of her protective barriers with him. He'd torn down her brick wall, the one protecting her heart, one brick at a time.

  She was bare. Vulnerable.

  No. No, she wouldn't allow it, not when he wasn't the same way. She backed to the door, reaching blindly for it.

  He blinked and whistled low and long, and shook his head. "The way you do that, switch gears so fast, is positively frightening." He leaned close, so close she could see specks of blue light dancing in his gray eyes, and they were no longer light and happy. "Go on, run inside. Run away from this, from me."

  "I'm not running."

  "Yeah? Then tell me how you feel about me."

  His challenging voice wasn't what penetrated, but his eyes. They weren't sharp and daring, but … needy? Wait a minute … the tough, unshakable Ty Jackson needy?

  "Know what I think?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "I think you're crazy about me, about your sisters, too. But you can't even say so."

  She cuddled the kitten close, unwilling to expose her emotions when he hadn't done so first. "What do you know about love, Ty?"

  His eyes shuttered and he stepped back, alarmingly distant. "We're not talking about me."

  But suddenly she wanted to be. "No, tell me. What makes you such an expert on this subject? You're alone, too."

  He stared at her, then looked at the sky for a moment, then at the kitten, and finally, back to her. "I used to be an expert," he said, his voice rough. "I loved my brother." He swore softly, shoved his fingers through his dark hair and abruptly turned away. "I'm behind on chores."

  "Ty, wait—" He didn't stop and she let out a despairing sound, knowing his temper now was spurred by pain, pain she'd brought to the surface. "Ty!"

  His long legs churned up the distance to his truck. His wide shoulders were hunched, his hands stuffed in his pockets, as if he carried the weight of the world. But somewhere under all that bunched muscle and frustration beat a wonderful, caring heart.

  She was holding proof of that heart. "Dammit." She snuggled the kitten and ran after him.

  He had the truck running when she caught him. "Go inside," he said wearily, looking straight ahead, even when she leaned in his opened window.

  "I want to talk."

  "You want to be real sure about that, Zoe." He turned then and searched her gaze with his tortured one. "Because when we talk it's going to go both ways, and there won't be any holding back."

  Involuntarily she stepped away and he let out a laugh completely void of amusement. Anguish settled in his eyes. "Go away, Zoe."

  And he drove off.

  * * *

  The truth was hard to deny when it was staring her in the face. Zoe pushed back the set of books she'd been working on, bent her weary head on her arms and sighed.

  "Mew."

  "Hey, Socks." Not exactly an original name for a red kitten with white paws, but it worked for them. Socks butted his head gently against Zoe's hand until she relented and petted him.

  He dropped to her papers, sprawled spread-eagled on his back and started to purr, making her smile. Her sisters loved him. And seeing their happy, laughing faces had been a great reward. Their happiness meant everything to her.

  But what about yours?

  She was happy, wasn't she? Even if they were still drowning in financial woes. They had fixed up the bare minimum on the house. They'd put the barn in shape, ignorin
g for now the series of cottages on the edge of the property. They continued to lease part of the land to Ty, which, at the moment, was the only solvent part of the ranch.

  The problem was the price of stock was high this year, higher than anticipated. They couldn't afford both livestock and crew. One or the other, yet they needed both.

  Bottom line—they were still short money.

  It was so frustrating, she wanted to scream. Grim and bleak, with energy pulsing through her, Zoe got up. She scooped up Socks and gently set him in Maddie's dark, silent bedroom, where she knew the kitten would find a warm, welcome bed.

  The night was complete, the moon just a sliver against the black sky. Long silver clouds streaked across, blanketing the stars from view.

  Zoe passed her truck—too much blood pumping through her veins for a sedentary ride. Instead, she started running, letting the cool night take her.

  Ten minutes later, breath puffing, she stopped at the end of Ty's drive, uncertain.

  Why had she come here?

  Telling herself it was to see Danny, not his owner, she walked toward Ty's barn.

  A shadow emerged in front of her, shifting into the shape of a man. Ty. He wore black jeans, a black shirt and a black expression to match, and as he stood there watching her, his face impassive and stoic, something passed between them, belying that very distance.

  He felt it to his toes, then cursed himself for it.

  "I wanted to see Danny," she said defiantly.

  "Zoe," he said wearily, slipping his hands in his pockets to keep them off her. "Truth."

  "Okay, truth." Her jaw tightened. "I don't have what it takes to get the ranch going."

  The admission startled him, and her misery tore at something deep inside. Despite his resolve to stay the hell away, he took a step toward her. "Of course you do."

  "No." Impatient, she shook her head. "I mean, we don't have enough money. Something has to give, only there's nothing left. I've checked the numbers a hundred times."

  Her frustration felt like his own. "I tried to make your loan bigger."

  "You gave us enough."

  "Your pride doesn't belong here." He got angry because her grim eyes were too hard to take. The last time he'd seen eyes so despairing, he'd been looking into Ben's dying face. And into that dying face he'd made a promise that haunted him to this very day. "You could let me buy—"

  "No." She whirled around in a circle, staring into the dark at his small spread. "I want to make it work. I want…" Her shoulders sagged and her voice broke. "I want it all. Dammit, is that so wrong?"

  She covered her face and her suffering was too much for him to bear. "It's okay," he whispered, coming close and setting his hands on her shoulders. Gently he drew her close, cursing himself as he did. "It's going to be okay."

  "How can I be so close and fail?"

  Same reason he could be so close to her, could see her for what she was—a woman determined to never need another soul—and still so desperately want her for himself. "You won't fail, Zoe. It's not in you."

  Determination filled her fierce expression, but she hugged him back, her body willing to trust him for comfort even if her mind wasn't.

  * * *

  "It seems obvious to me." Cade took another bite, moaned with pleasure, winked at Maddie and spoke again. "A guest ranch."

  Zoe sputtered, nearly choking on her iced tea. "A what?"

  "You know … bring in rich vacationing people to do all the work for you. They used to call them dude ranches."

  Maddie, Delia and Zoe just stared at him.

  "On top of that," he said around another bite, "they pay for the privilege of doing all your chores. It's great."

  Delia looked speculative. "Rich people? Such as … rich men?"

  Cade was disgusted. "Hey, baby, I'm rich. Why don't you fall over me?"

  "I'm looking for personality, Slick."

  Maddie gave Delia an admonishing look, then turned back to Cade. "A guest ranch would be like an inn, right?"

  "Sort of."

  Her eyes lit with speculation. "It would need a really great kitchen, wouldn't it? With fabulous meals for lots of hungry guests."

  "Hungry, rich guests," Delia said with growing interest.

  Zoe could see her sisters caving. "You're all crazy."

  "Zoe, think of it." Maddie's eyes were shining. "These people pay."

  "Yeah, as in cash money," Delia added. "Can't believe we didn't think of it before. We're in the best spot in the world. People love Idaho."

  "Capital," Zoe reminded her sister. "We'd need capital. And someone with the know-how."

  "We already have a manager who'd be willing to help," Maddie said quietly.

  The man who'd held her last night, the man who'd helped her believe in herself. Ty.

  Zoe pushed away her dinner plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was feeling a lot of things, too many things, most of it owing to the private conversation she'd just had with Cade where she'd learned there was no news on the inheritance front.

  Her mother had disappeared off the face of the planet twenty years ago and not a word from her had been heard since.

  Fine. She could deal with that. With being deserted. She could deal with anything, and had. "We can do better than this," she declared. "I mean, come on … a guest ranch? Triple M Guest Ranch?"

  * * *

  But as she walked along the river that night, after an exhausting run, contemplating her failures, Zoe kept coming back to the thought … a guest ranch.

  How bad could it be?

  She smiled, thinking her sisters were going to enjoy being right.

  "Well, isn't that something? A smile." Ty dismounted his horse, let it loose to graze in the wild grass and leaned negligently against a tree. "Can't say I've seen that too often." He waited a beat. "Did it hurt?"

  "Very funny. Why are you following me?"

  "I came to the house for dessert. Maddie told me where you were. You shouldn't be out here alone."

  "Ty, you climb rock monoliths sixty stories high for fun. I think I can handle a little tame walk along the river."

  "I meant because you're lonely."

  Her heart stopped, then started a heavy pumping that was louder than the roar of the river.

  Ty stepped closer. "Being alone makes loneliness worse, Zoe."

  "Well, I'm not alone now, am I?" She speculated, then gave him a sideways glance. He certainly looked the part of the cowboy tonight, dressed in jeans so faded the stress points were white, and oh boy, did he have stress points. She dragged her eyes upward to his plain T-shirt, partially covered by an unbuttoned blue chambray shirt.

  She'd missed him, but he'd been so busy they'd hardly spoken. Not that she would have known what to say. He wanted something from her she wasn't ready to give.

  And where did that leave him? He still wanted her land. What would he think of this latest idea? Only one way to find out. "What do you think of guest ranches?" she asked suddenly.

  Ty laughed, then sobered when she glared at him. "You're serious?"

  She spread her hands. "What choice do we have at this point? The big house could be a lodge, the cottages individual cabins for families to stay. We're smack-dab in the middle of thousands of acres of wild, unexplored federal park land, all of it ready to play in. Day hikes. Rides. Big-game hunting. It's a four-season playground. Just think … it could be a hot, exclusive place to go."

  "You've really thought about this."

  "Better than selling out."

  He went grim. "Yeah. You'll still need more money." He bent, picked up a stone and tossed it into the river.

  "Yes." She bit her lip. Considered. "But a guest ranch has potential for earning money back much faster than a working ranch if done correctly."

  "It will also take much more capital than a working ranch."

  "I know. I was thinking we could take on a partner for the venture … one who knew what he was doing."

  His head whipped toward hers, eyes narrow
ed. The moon peeked out from beneath a cloud, lighting up the small clearing where they stood, casting everything in a dreamy glow.

  "Know anyone who'd be interested?" she wondered.

  "You know damn straight I'm interested, but it involves trust, Zoe." He shifted closer until she could feel the heat of him. "Ready for that?"

  "No more than you are."

  "What does that mean? I trust you."

  "Tell me about your brother, Ty."

  A long, pent-up breath escaped him. "Where did that come from?"

  "Is it such a surprise that I want to know more about you?"

  "That you're admitting it is." But she was staring at him, waiting. And he suddenly wanted to tell her. "He was … Ben." He lifted a shoulder, struggling for words. He'd never talked about his brother before, and suddenly it didn't seem right to be burying Ben's memory, not when Ty wanted to remember him always. Ben deserved to be remembered, to be talked about. "He was wonderful, funny. Smart." He smiled as memories, good ones, washed over him. "And he kept me in line."

  She smiled, too. "You were close."

  "We survived." He looked at his own big hands and knew he could never be like his father, could never use violence against another.

  "He's … gone?"

  "He died." God, it was hard to say it aloud, to put the images back into his head. "In my arms, after a fight with a gang member on the streets of Chicago where we lived. He was sixteen."

  "Oh God, Ty." She reached for him, the ground crunching beneath her as she moved, her soft warm body pressing close. It wasn't in any way a sexual embrace, it was different, and it was somehow far better.

  There was no sound except for the soothing rush of the river, and he urged her even closer, folding her tight to him, soaking up the affection he'd been starving for since that day he'd given her the kitten.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered after a time. "You were left alone. It was so unfair."

  It wasn't a question, but a statement, from someone who knew just how unfair life could be. "He made me promise to keep our dream," he said. He lifted his head and met her gaze steadily. "To raise horses. Lots and lots of horses. We knew little about them then, other than the ranch life represented a freedom we'd never experienced."