Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3)

But the girl standing stock-still in front of him now was sending fire to his balls and alarm bells ringing through his head.

But whether he was going to hire her or not wasn’t the point at this precise moment in time. Right now, he had another matter to resolve. He couldn’t send her out into the cold where she and the kid would surely freeze to death. He had no other choice than to put her up for the night, unless he wanted to drive her back to town himself, which he didn’t, not on ice-slick roads—and dammit, Zach was right—the girl looked poor.

Could she even afford a room at the motel in town?

She remained quiet after his biting question, so he tried to tone down the lust that was fueling his anger and impatience. “Listen lady, Redwood Falls doesn’t even warrant a dot on the map,” he exaggerated only a fraction. “There are no taxis. There’s a motel, but let me guess? You don’t have a room,” he predicted flatly.

She shook her head slowly, looking away from him again, seemingly engrossed by some far off blemish on the wall.

As if on cue, the baby began to cry and Jeff was no stranger to babies. “She wet or hungry?”

The woman licked her lips and swallowed, the telltale movement in her neck showing her distress before her gaze came back to his. “Both, probably.”

“Right, look,” Jeff paused and glanced out the window at the swirling snow. “I can take you to town in my four-wheel-drive, but it’s not going to be an easy drive or a safe one—and I don’t recommend it.”

She continued to watch him quietly, as if waiting for her next choice, and Jeff was once again hit with the reason he didn’t want her here. She was too young, obviously too vulnerable for the only thing he wanted from her. He reminded himself again to be cautious. His cock wasn’t just pulsing to fuck her—it was pulsing to fuck her hard and then to fuck her hard again.

It was the ‘again’ part that was screwing with his head.

He bit the inside of his cheek until he felt some of his control return. He could do this—he could be a decent human being for twenty-four hours. He took a sustaining breath and laid out the only option he could see. “The other thing we can do is set you up in a bedroom for the night. I have plenty of space for you and the kid. Weather’s supposed to let up in the morning, and then we’ll get you and your vehicle sorted and back to town.” He paused while he watched her face grow pink from what, embarrassment? “How’s that sound?”

She jostled the baby from one shoulder to the next as she tried to soothe the whimpering child. “Truthfully? It sounds like heaven.”

His lips tightened at her blunt honesty as he nodded his head. Just then, Zach wandered into the room carrying a half-eaten sandwich. “What’s going on?”

Jeff cleared his throat, trying to force himself to use the girl’s name. He couldn’t keep using insignificant pronouns, not if she was going to be here for the time being. “Janet’s car won’t start so she’ll be staying here for the night.”

His son swallowed the food he was chewing and then looked at the baby as if they were opening their home to a tiny, unknown, whimpering alien life form. “Okay,” he drawled slowly, making the two-syllable word into five as was his habit.

“Show them to the guest room, Zach, okay?” Jeff switched his attention back to the girl. “I’m going to get your stuff from your car.” He paused, looking her over from head to foot, visibly seeing the poverty line she seemed to be straddling, now that it had been pointed out to him. “You’ve got stuff, right?” he asked, trying to control and smother the sudden sympathy he was feeling.

She nodded her head, her blonde hair shimmering as it hung around her shoulders. “My suitcase and the diaper bag are on the back seat, if you don’t mind.” She lowered her eyes from his as if the connection was too intense. “Please.”

Jeff felt a momentary stroke of heat light him from the inside out. The girl was damn dangerous to the male equilibrium and she didn’t even seem to know it. Her mannerisms and actions weren’t fake, they weren’t a front. She had no idea how her ultra-feminine, submissive responses were affecting him.

And he wasn’t about to hang around so they could affect him even more. He turned and slammed out the front door, more on a mission to escape her presence than to retrieve her belongings.

Chapter Two

Janet finished changing Hannah and sat down in the small, tufted armchair in the guest bedroom. She’d quickly prepared a bottle from the store of dry formula she kept and now, she finally breathed a small sigh of relief as Hannah began suckling the bottle while gripping Janet’s finger in her tiny fist.

Their eyes clung as her daughter drank happily. Janet couldn’t contain a smile and Hannah spit the nipple out in response, formula running down her chin as her baby grinned back.

An arrow of pure love pierced Janet’s heart. This was her favorite time of day. Usually, at least on most nights, this was Hannah’s last bottle of the day, and the respite they shared as mother and daughter during these quiet times was both soothing and intensely satisfying.

It was a simple joy that Janet tried not to take for granted, and one she wished Lance was here to enjoy.

But Hannah’s father was gone and as sad as the situation had been, he’d only gotten to hold Hannah once. He’d died in the same hospital where their baby had been born—a mere thirty-six hours after Hannah had made her arrival.

Why had she agreed to Lance’s wishes? Why had she agreed to have a baby with him when they weren’t even remotely close to being in love? When she’d known that single parenthood was in her future?

Lance had been her best friend and her confidante. He’d held her as she’d cried after she’d broken up with her boyfriend of three years. And later, she’d held him when his girlfriend had broken up with him. She and Lance had been a team and each other’s champion, and when he’d found out he had terminal can

cer, she’d readily allowed him to talk her into carrying his child.

So he could live on. So he would have a legacy.

She missed him like heaven on earth and she loved Hannah just as much—she’d never regret having her—but why hadn’t she thought longer and harder before taking such a plunge?

She had no answer to that question.

She knew she’d been aching at the thought of losing Lance. She remembered wanting a piece of him to keep next to her heart.

She certainly remembered the awkward and one-time coupling that had produced Hannah.

And she remembered the flowers she’d laid on his coffin, the aloof look his parents had given her as she’d cried her heart out during the service. And she vividly remembered them trying to buy her baby for a hundred grand, looking down their noses at her and Hannah, as if they were expecting her to jump at the offer. And she remembered their look of relief as she’d turned them down and left their home, her child firmly in her arms.

So now it didn’t really matter why she’d done the things she had.

She’d loved the man who had quickly married her after the pregnancy had been confirmed—even if it had been a completely platonic love. And she loved the baby he’d given her more than life itself.

She just had to keep reminding herself that things would be okay. The future would sort itself out. For the time being, Hannah was clean and dry and well-fed.

And for those simple blessings, Janet was thankful.

****

At dawn, after too little sleep, feeling like a bear that had been rudely awakened from hibernation, Jeff stomped toward the kitchen intent on one thing—coffee.

He stopped short at the entrance and stared. The woman, Janet, was standing at the sink, facing away from him, head down, shoulders slumped, slowly shaking a baby bottle as if it were taking all of her strength to remain standing.