Cowboy Flirtation Read online

  That had her asking herself if he’d be right for helping with her program. His downturned lips and unmoving jaw were damn off-putting.

  And distracting.

  She climbed behind the wheel and glanced Ford’s way again. Too bad the man was as hunky as every other Dalton. She couldn’t get the lines of his strong body out of her head.

  * * * * *

  “Oh my God, Momma. You outdid yourself.” Beck bit into the chicken leg again and groaned.

  Next to him, his small son, Carter, who they also called Tiger, mimicked his daddy. Chomping off a bite and grinning with greasy lips, he roused laughter from everyone at the long supper table.

  The other kids joined in, moaning as they delved into the fried chicken. At the end of the table, Ford was nestled between a highchair containing Kade’s youngest and the little spitfire of Hank’s named Lacey.

  Ford nudged Lacey, and she shot him a grin. Picking up her chicken leg, she took a big, meaty bite.

  “Mmmm, Gramma. This is…” She closed her eyes with extra melodramatic flair, and the table erupted with laughter.

  Lacey eyed Ford and then nudged him. He lifted his chicken to his lips and followed her lead. He put an extra twist on it by shaking his head, eyes closed as he experienced the heavenly spices in the chicken’s crust.

  The kids imitated him, and Aunt Maggie was crying with laughter as she looked at what they’d started. Ford had a feeling every time they had chicken from here on out, the family would do this. Even long after he left the ranch and returned to his life… and he’d miss it.

  He’d miss them.

  At his side, the baby slapped his palms off the highchair tray, and everyone laughed harder.

  Throughout dinner, Ford listened to talk of progress around the ranch. They had the burnt portion of Hank’s house torn off and a new one erected, weather-tight with walls and roof, and now the building was going on inside while two of the brothers whipped through the worst of the burned fence on the top twenty acres.

  The womenfolk spoke of joining ranks to paint Hank and Charlotte’s new section of house and how the company hired to rid the house of the smoke and water damage had done such a fantastic job.

  “It hasn’t been this clean since it was built,” Charlotte said with a chuckle.

  “Kids do that to a house,” Aunt Maggie added with a nod. Ford remembered the mud he and his cousins had tracked into the house.

  Lacey leaned forward to talk to her cousin, and her long, blonde pigtail end dangled in her gravy. Ford plucked it free and took a napkin to wipe it.

  She turned her grin on him. “Thanks, Cousin Ford. But when that happens, I just do this.” She took her pigtail and stuck the gravy-coated end in her mouth.

  “Lacey!” Charlotte cried from several seats down.

  Ford exchanged a look with the amused and distraught mother and wiped her pigtail with the napkin anyway. As he did, he caught the conversation going on between her and Witt’s daughter.

  “Stock tank…”

  “Shh. We don’t want them hearin’ us.”

  Ford buttered a biscuit, listening to their plans, knowing them all too well. On a hot day like today, jumping into a stock tank filled with cool water was the best of ideas. But the girls couldn’t be unchaperoned.

  After dinner, the men got up to clear the table, a Dalton rule since the women cooked. And when every last dish and glass was stuffed in the dishwasher, they followed everyone outside.

  Apparently, the secretive girls had already been discovered and joined by all their cousins. The screeches and squeals coming from that direction brought a smile to Ford’s lips.

  Which also brought to mind that sweet little cowgirl from the neighboring ranch. Susannah Ryan. She’d accused him of not being a Dalton because he didn’t smile, and that was partly true. He hadn’t had much to smile about in the past year.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and strode to the stock tank. Kids splashed and doggy-paddled in the shallow water. A little one who’d shucked his clothes down to his diaper hitched himself up on the side of the tank and started to dive head-first.

  “Whoa, buckaroo.” Ford grabbed him by the diaper and held him. “You can’t swim.”

  He took the red-haired boy, Jase, by the chubby arms and dangled his feet into the water. His toes hit the coolness and he kicked excitedly. “More!”

  Ford dipped him lower inch by inch, letting his small body get accustomed to the water until it swirled around his rounded belly. As he swished Jase in the water, the adults stopped talking and Ford saw his moment to mention Susannah.

  “A neighbor came up to the ranch two days ago.”

  “The Guthries?”

  “No, Ryan. Susannah Ryan.”

  “Oh, she’s a nice girl,” Aunt Maggie said. One of the kids splashed her fully in the face, and she cried out. “You little stinker! See who lets you eat half a pot of strawberry jam!”

  “Sorry, Gamma,” the child said, missing the R in the word and not sounding a bit contrite.

  Ford continued, “Ms. Ryan was here asking to borrow some of your horses. I told her I’d ask on her behalf and let her know.”

  “Horses? The Ryans having a shortage or something?” Cash asked.

  “All theirs are working horses and she’s looking for some calmer stock—probably the old ones who just munch hay all day but have been well trained. She will use them for a therapy program for autistic kids.” Somehow, talking about the woman’s plans made him feel a camaraderie with her, which was stretching their interaction quite a bit. She’d insulted him and… well, he hadn’t smiled.

  Hank’s hat brim dripped as one of his own kids hit him square in the face with a wave of water too. “Right off the top of my head I can think of a few that would be great for that.”

  Ford nodded. “Gives them land to graze too, and we could use what we have left for the working horses.”

  “Good point. I don’t see a problem with lending the horses. Trouble is, none of us have the time to even take them up,” Hank said.

  “I could help when I have time. I’m almost finished ripping out the fence.” Ford pulled the baby up and let him drop again, setting him to giggling.

  “Well, if you wanna volunteer some of your time, you’re welcome to our stock.”

  A gasp sounded, and everyone turned to look at the visitor. Across the stock tank, Ford looked into Susannah’s eyes. She’d plastered her hand to her lips and he could practically see her excitement coming off her in waves.

  She lowered her hand and looked around. “I’m so sorry to intrude on your family fun. I was just coming up to speak with you about my request.”

  Ford clenched his jaw. She hadn’t trusted him to do as he’d said and ask the family on her behalf.

  She stared at him for a heartbeat and then let her gaze drop down his body to the child dangling from his hands. Jase kicked, and he swished him back and forth some more.

  When her gaze snapped back to his, warmth slipped through him, like a pebble warmed by the sun.

  “Thank you,” she said as if to him alone. Then looked around herself. “All of you. This is really going to make a big difference in those kids’ lives.”

  “I’m so happy to hear you’re beginning a program like this.” Charlotte drew Susannah’s attention. When she turned her gaze from Ford, he lifted Jase from the tank, dripping and shivery now from the cooler water, and handed him to his mother.

  Shelby laughed and bundled him in her arms. “I’ll just run into the house and get a towel.”

  “I’ll get it,” Ford said.

  “Grab a whole stack, would you, Ford dear?” Aunt Maggie’s voice followed him as he strode away. He raised a hand in acknowledgement but kept walking.

  When he came out of the house with an armload of towels for the little ones, he stopped in his tracks. Susannah offered him a small smile.

  “You didn’t think I’d tell them.” His voice was grittier than usual.

  “I knew you
’d keep your word.”

  He grunted and navigated the porch steps, moving past her.

  She followed. “Look, if you want to just bring the horses up, I can take it from there. You don’t need to volunteer any more time.”

  He cast her a glance. Damn, she was prettier today in a frilly white top with ruffles around the collar and sleeves and a skirt that swirled around her thighs.

  Her tanned thighs.

  His gut tightened.

  “I said I’ll help and I’ll keep my word.”

  “That’s fine. I just wanted to let you off the hook in case… you know…”

  He stopped walking and faced her. The stack of towels teetered, and Susannah leaped forward, making a grab for them.

  Her hand grazed his chest as she caught one towel midair.

  Quick reflexes. Then again, she was a horsewoman.

  The touch left behind was like a brand on his chest. Nobody had laid a hand on him other than his mother since Gabby had given him a farewell, nice-being-engaged-to-you hug.

  That ache never seemed to stop hurting.

  Susannah’s long blonde hair fell over her eye as she straightened with the fallen towel cradled against her breasts. He stared at the tendril, and his mind shot back to the dinner table when he’d rescued Lacey’s pigtail from the gravy.

  No way could he brush that lock of silken blonde floss from Susannah’s eyes, though.

  She shook her head and the urge was broken, but now he zeroed in on her lips. He might have dreamed about those plump rose petals after he’d met her at the fence line.

  Dammit, this woman made it clear she didn’t want or need his help, and here he was standing like a fool, staring at lips he’d never get a chance to kiss.

  * * * * *

  Ford Dalton had a side to him Susannah’d never expected to see. Not only was he helpful to his family but he played with babies. And the sight still reverberated inside her, like an echo but growing louder the longer she stood near him.

  “Let me take some of the towels.” Her words sounded oddly breathless.

  He handed her half the stack, and she grinned.

  He studied her face, his own expression the same mask he’d worn back in the field.

  “Maybe it is possible to work together,” she said.

  “I know my horses, sweetness.”

  She jerked at the term of endearment. While her stomach did backflips, she forced a calming breath into her lungs. He wasn’t calling her that because she meant anything to him—Southern people called people honey or sweetheart all the time. She’d even been called doll a time or two.

  “If you say you know horses, then you know horses.” She wasn’t about to argue with him.

  He gave a nod. “Are you trained to work with special needs kids?”

  “Yes, I specialized in special education in college and came out of the program with hopes and dreams to do this.”

  “You don’t look very old.”

  “Old enough to have a degree and a year of planning under my belt.” She didn’t know if she should be offended at him questioning her age. She eyed his profile. His face carried a few creases from looking into the sun, but other than that, he appeared to be young too.

  They carried the towels back to the stock tank where the kids were still having the time of their lives. The squealing grew louder as Ford neared.

  “C’mon, Cousin Ford!” a gorgeous little girl called from the depths, blonde pigtails streaming water and her lashes spikey.

  “C’mere and bring you a towel?” He dropped what he carried to the ground except one. “Is it time to come out, Lacey?”

  She shrieked as he made a swipe for her, as if to drag her out of the water, and bobbed away from him. Hopping around the circular tank like a jumping bean, she kept one step ahead of Ford, though Susannah was sure the man with such a long reach could easily nab her.

  The mother of the little redheaded boy Ford had been holding came up and took a towel from Susannah. “Oh, sorry,” she said, attention on the cowboy playing with the small girl.

  He still wasn’t smiling but the children seemed to be interacting him as if he was the best party clown they’d ever seen.

  Ford unfolded the towel and looped it into a lasso shape. “I’m lookin’ for a little filly.”

  “Nooo! I’m not a filly. I’m a girl!” Lacey continued bobbing around the tank.

  The other kids all became jumping beans too, and Ford whipped out his towel, letting the end graze the top of a Dalton son.

  The boy grabbed the towel, but Ford was much stronger. He hauled him two feet across the pool before the boy could think to let go.

  “Now he’s started something,” Shelby said, rubbing down the toddler’s hair until it stood up in red spikes. The boy leaned toward the water again, but his mother said, “Tomorrow, Jase.”

  Susannah watched with the rest of the Daltons, feeling part of the family for a brief time. And trying not to acknowledge that her ovaries were exploding at the sight of a hunky cowboy playing with the kids like he lived for it.

  He might know his horses, but he was also great with kids.

  No, he hadn’t volunteered for that, just working with the horses.

  “I’d best get on home,” she said.

  Ford jerked his head around to pierce her in his steady stare.

  “I have things to do, to get ready for next week.” She spoke directly to him though many Daltons surrounded them. Why did Susannah feel the need to explain why she wasn’t sticking around?

  Ford coiled the towel in his hand. “I’ll come up to your place later and look at your setup.”

  Why did a new warmth blossom low in her belly? He wasn’t asking her out or indicating he wanted to spend time with her.

  She handed the towels off to another female. “Sounds good. Well, see you all at church. Thanks for offering your stock. It really means a lot to me.” She caught Mr. Dalton’s eye and gave a smile and nod, receiving a tip of his hat in return.

  As Susannah walked back to her truck, her nerves jangled more than a set of spurs. She was just excited about her program finally getting off the ground, that was all.

  “Susannah!”

  She pivoted at the deep voice to see Ford trotting across the yard to her. Heart thundering, she took in the pull and release of his thigh muscles and even his shoulders.

  “Damn,” she whispered, biting down on her lip.

  “You dropped this.” He stopped in front of her and opened his fist. Her lacey headband lay on his palm, looking entirely out of place among the calluses there.

  “Thank you.” She took it from him, wondering why she’d even worn it. At home, adding the accessory to her hair had seemed okay, but in the truck on the way over, she’d pulled it off her head and stuffed into her skirt pocket, feeling it was too fussy for a businesswoman.

  The fabric was warm from his hand, but she thrust that thought away.

  His gaze steadied on her face.

  “Did you want to say something to me?” she asked.

  His eyes darkened and once more she saw the brooding, stiff cowboy she’d met at the fence. “No, just giving you the headband. See ya later.”

  As he turned and walked away from her, she gave a shake of her head. Working with a man like Ford could be really bad for her business if not her outlook. His moodiness could be felt from a county away, and it definitely would affect such sensitive kids as the ones she was about to take on.

  Pushing out a sigh, she climbed behind the wheel of her truck. He disappeared around the corner. That should be the end of her thoughts about him, but it was far from it.

  Chapter Three

  Morning in Paradise Valley seemed to come slower than in other parts of the world Ford had visited. The sun rose by inches, creeping up over a windowsill and finally falling across the bed where he slept. Once he was up, he had a minute or two to lie there and think about what was on tap for the day.

  More fence. Miles of it, all the posts b
lackened by the fire and no longer reliable to hold in cattle if they were determined to go through.

  He got up and dressed quickly, stomach already rumbling for first breakfast, which was the way on this ranch. The guys would grab whatever they found in the kitchen along with some coffee before heading out for the first round of chores.

  Once they finished, they’d come back in for a homecooked breakfast of eggs, toast, pancakes and sausage or bacon. Sometimes both.

  His stomach rumbled louder, but he found a couple leftover muffins in the kitchen. He gulped down each in two bites and followed it with a mug of black coffee the coffeemaker had started on a timer.

  Outside, Ford rounded the corner of the farmhouse, headed for the corral. When he happened upon the wheelbarrow, he jerked to a stop.

  “Easton?”

  His brother was slumped in the wheelbarrow, head cocked hard to the side in the most uncomfortable-looking position Ford had ever seen.

  He reached out and shook his brother by the shoulder, and Easton opened his eyes, the same shade of his own—as all the Daltons. “What the hell are you doin’ here, man? And why are you sleeping in a wheelbarrow?”

  “The dog had the porch and took offense to me trying to share it.” Easton groaned as he tried to straighten.

  Ford sniffed the air around his brother but didn’t detect any alcohol. “Why didn’t you come inside the house?”

  “I got here so late, came after my shift at the machine shop, and I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

  Ford reached out, and Easton gripped his hand, allowing him to yank him out of the wheelbarrow to his feet. He rubbed a hand over his messy hair and looked around on the ground. “Where’s my hat? Oh.” He bent to retrieve the somewhat smashed ridge top and placed it on his head.

  “I’m here to help out for the weekend,” Easton said.

  “Justus?”

  “Can’t make it. Something came up with one of the horses. Colic is what I was told.”

  “Vet’s been called?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” Ford eyed his brother. “Man, you look rough. Better not let Aunt Maggie catch you looking this way. Why don’t you wash up and go in for breakfast?”