Hallie's Hero. Nicole Foster
said, fascinated by the small, smoky-gray colt pressed against his chest, now guzzling the milk from the makeshift teat Tenfoot had fashioned.
“He likes you,” Hallie gently corrected. She stroked the colt’s smooth head, not looking at Ethan. “He needs someone to take care of him. Maybe you could do it.”
“Me?” Ethan looked astonished. “Not me. I never took care of nothin’ before.”
“Fine time to learn, since it looks like you’re gonna camp here awhile,” Tenfoot said, coming up beside them.
The boy’s head shot up. “I’m not stayin’ here! My ma and I always lived at the Silver Snake. I’m goin’ back there as soon as I get the chance,” Ethan finished defiantly.
Tenfoot scratched at his left ear. “Well, I think your pa sees it different.”
“He ain’t my pa!”
“That may or may not be,” Hallie said quietly, “but you’re here now. And the colt needs your help.”
“You’re doin’ a fine job tendin’ to him.” Tenfoot gave the foal a pat and briefly clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “A little more practice and you’ll be doin’ it better than the mares.”
Ethan flushed and frowned as he stared hard at the colt half sprawled in his lap. But he didn’t say no.
Smiling to herself, Hallie got to her feet and left Ethan to finish the job under Tenfoot’s encouraging supervision. She still had a lot of work to get done before the heat made working outside unbearable. With her mind focused on the day’s chores, she didn’t see Jack standing in the doorway of the barn until she nearly walked into him.
“You’re here,” she blurted out before thinking. How long had he been standing there, watching? She felt an uncomfortable warmth creep up the back of her neck. “What are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you, too, Miss Hallie,” he drawled, stepping back to let her walk out into the barnyard. He followed her a little way before propping a boot up on the first rung of the fence and crossing his arms over his knee. “I was looking for you.”
“Why?”
Jack nearly smiled at the way she thrust her chin up, her jaw tight and her eyes narrowed. He was beginning to recognize that look, which meant Hallie Ryan intended to give him a fight if he gave her the slightest opportunity. “I see you’ve been keeping Ethan busy,” he said, ignoring her question. “I’d been wondering where he’d gone so early.”
“It’s been light for three hours,” Hallie pointed out, eyeing him meaningfully. “And Ethan needs something to make him feel like he belongs here. I thought taking care of the colt would help.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I think it’s a good idea.” Jack shrugged, straightening slowly. “Looks like so far you’re better than me at being a parent.”
“You haven’t even gotten started. Why did you come back if you didn’t want the responsibility?” Hallie asked bluntly.
Jack tugged his hat a little lower over his brow so his face was in shadow. He didn’t have an easy answer for that one, and he wasn’t willing to let Hallie Ryan stand here and figure it out for him. “The boy’s my business.” He waited for his meaning to sink in, then smiled and added lightly, “As far as taking on this ranch, I needed a new game.”
“Raising a child isn’t a game, Dakota. And neither is running a ranch.”
Refusing to wait for his response, Hallie turned on her heel and started back inside the barn to get her horse.
She couldn’t remember when a man made her feel more stirred up and frustrated. Right now, all she wanted to do was ride as fast and as far away from him as she could.
He fell into step beside her. She sent him a glare. “What do you want? I have work to do.”
“I’ll go with you.” Her eyebrows shot up and Jack smiled. “I need to learn my way around. It is my ranch.”
“You may own it,” Hallie said as she reached the corral and let herself in the gate. “But it’ll never be yours.” She turned her back on him and kept walking.
“I’m not going away,” he said, so close to her ear she jumped.
Hallie whipped around and found herself nearly nose to nose with him again. She took a hurried step backward. The heel of her boot skidded on a rock and she lurched, losing her hat and nearly her footing.
Jack quickly reached out and caught her upper arms, holding firmly until she righted herself, his hands lingering on her a few seconds longer than necessary. Their eyes met and Hallie felt an odd flutter inside, as if something buried within her had stirred in its sleep. Unsettled by it, she abruptly pulled back, glancing away. She bent and scooped up her hat. As she slapped it back on her head, she saw Jack grimace. “What is it now?”
“You have to admit that’s a sad excuse for a hat, sweetheart.”
Before she could stop him, he reached out and pulled her hat off, tossing it aside. Her braid fell down her back again. Jack wondered what she would look like if she ever took a brush to her hair, and if the idea even occurred to her.
Hallie snatched her hat back up again and jammed it on her head. “Looks like my hair offends you more than this.”
“No, I’ve just never met a woman who cared so little about how she looked.”
“Mister, I’ve run a ranch since I was seventeen,” Hallie said, bristling at the implication in his voice. “I work with horses and cattle all day, make sure everything is moving along the way it should, and see to it everyone is cared for and stays out of trouble. I don’t have time to worry about whether or not my ribbons match my eyes, or if there are enough curls in my hair. And I doubt satin skirts would last through the first throw from a wild mustang.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile to himself, though he turned slightly aside so she wouldn’t see his amusement. The woman had pluck; that much he had to give her.
Hallie caught the hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, and it annoyed her. Either he didn’t believe her or he wasn’t all that impressed. She guessed the only thing about a woman that would impress a man like Jack Dakota was whether or not she knew how to use what Tenfoot called “feminine wiles” to please him.
She went into the tack room to get her saddle, anything to avoid looking at him. Whatever feminine wiles were, exactly, she didn’t have them and she didn’t care. The lack had never crossed her mind until now, and she wasn’t about to let that kind of nonsense take root.
Pretending to adjust her hat, she stole a sidelong glance at the broad-shouldered man who insisted on walking next to her no matter how clear she made it she didn’t want him around. Why did he make her feel so inadequate, so uncomfortable with herself? The smug, self-satisfied look still played about his mouth, giving him an air of having an advantage she didn’t know about.
That along with his damnable good looks raised in her an impossible mix of anger and something she couldn’t quite define. Part of her wanted to storm off and leave him Eden’s Canyon so she’d never have to look into his laughing eyes again. But another part couldn’t stop glancing at him, mesmerized for a moment by the way he moved as he reached to retrieve his bridle, the white cotton of his shirt stretched taut over his back and shoulders.
Jack looked up then, catching her gaze. “You must like what you see, darlin’,” he drawled, deliberately provoking. “You’ve been staring long enough.”
Hallie immediately looked away. “You’re wrong. Looking at you, I imagine you’re nothing but trouble and always have been.”
“Think so?”
“I know it. Ben told me what happened back in town during that card game. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of it was your fault.”
He