Hallie's Hero

Big Charlie Dillon snorted. “How do we know you won’t be changin’ your mind the first time your hands get dirty?” he asked around a mouthful of ham.

“I won’t,” Jack said, glancing at Ethan.

Taking a place across from the boy, Hallie looked at him closely for the first time. She could easily see why Mattie Harper had no doubt who her son’s father was. Instead of Mattie’s red hair, Ethan shared Jack’s coloring, and his face would one day be a copy of the clean, angular lines of his father’s.

He watched Jack with quick sideways glances, partly curious, partly uncertain, but all uncomfortable, Hallie noticed. She knew that feeling all too well.

“Would you like some cornbread, Ethan?” she asked him as Jack sat down and the men concentrated on their food.

Ethan eyed her as though she were some new breed of varmint he’d never seen before. He reached for the thick square she offered, being careful not to touch her hand.

Hallie hid a smile. Considering Ethan’s upbringing, she supposed she was like no woman he’d ever known. None of this was like anything he’d ever known, and she knew the boy must be feeling very alone.

Jack Dakota, on the other hand, had probably never spent a lonely moment in his life. He wouldn’t know the first thing about being different, always on the outside. Even now he acted as if he’d sat down to supper at this table every night of his life.

“If you’d like, I’ll show you around the ranch tomorrow,” she told Ethan, trying to draw him out a little. “We’ve got a new colt you might want to see.”

For the first time Ethan looked directly at her. He didn’t say anything, but Hallie knew she’d at least stirred his interest a bit.

“We’ll do it first thing after breakfast,” she promised.

She turned in her seat to make sure everyone was getting enough supper, and found Jack watching her. The appreciation warming his eyes flustered her. “He’s got to learn his way around sooner or later,” she said, as if her talking to Ethan needed some explanation. “Being here, having you around, is going to take some getting used to.”

“Him as the boss is sure gonna take some gettin’ used to,” Big Charlie interjected, rousing laughter from the other men at the table. He scratched the black stubble on his jaw while he pretended to seriously consider Jack. “Somethin’ tells us you ain’t always been a rancher, Dakota.”

Jack lifted a shoulder, letting the jab roll off with an easy smile. “I’ve done a lot of things when I needed the money. Now I’ve got the money and I’ve decided to do this.”

“Ain’t somethin’ you can learn in a day or two,” Tenfoot muttered.

“That’s why Miss Hallie agreed to be my teacher.”

Hallie glared at him. “Mr. Dakota and I agreed to be partners.” She paused, then added deliberately, “For now.”

Jack didn’t bother to disagree with her. Instead, he only smiled and let her have her way. For now.

In time he’d prove to them all he was dead serious about keeping and running Eden’s Canyon, whether one sassy lady rancher liked it or not.

Chapter Three

“Stroke his throat a bit. There. That’s better.” Hallie smiled in approval as Ethan coaxed the foal to take a few more swallows of the warm milk. On her knees in the straw beside him, she shifted slightly to give Ethan more room to work.

Like the boy, the colt was motherless. Hallie had taken over as substitute mother, ignoring the teasing from Eb and Big Charlie and their predictions that the foal didn’t stand a chance. This morning, she’d prodded Ethan into taking over for her.

It hadn’t been easy. After missing him at breakfast, she’d found him sitting hunched up in a corner of the porch. He’d refused to talk to her at first, and then balked at going with her to the barn. Only after she tempted him with seeing the horses did he begrudgingly follow her off the porch, dragging his feet in the dust the whole way.

But when the wobbly kneed colt repeatedly nudged his head against Ethan’s leg, demanding to be noticed, the boy’s eyes sparked with interest.

“He likes it,” Ethan 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 laughed, the easy, deep-throated sound echoing into the heated stillness around them. “You’re an ornery sort, aren’t you, woman? Not at all like your brother.”

Hallie stiffened. “Ben never needed to be ornery. He learned fast how to sweet-talk his way in or out of everything, just like you.”

“It comes in handy, now and again.”

“Don’t you ever take anything seriously? Having to work for you isn’t a game to me, no matter how amusing you find it.” Hallie paced a few steps away, her back to him. “I knew Ben would get mixed up with someone like you sooner or later.”

“I hate to break it to you, darlin’,” Jack said slowly. “Ben is someone like me.”

“He likes to gamble, but it’s not his life. Not yet.”

Jack looked up at her, the lightness gone from his expression. “Your brother is a born gambler,” he stated, his tone suddenly serious. “Trust me, I know one when I see one. But I can’t help that any more than I could stop him from getting in over his fool head with Redeye. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, even if they’re stupid ones.”

“I don’t trust you.” Hallie spun around to face him. “And somehow I doubt you were too convincing when Ben wanted into that game.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Hal. I don’t know your brother from Adam, but I’m well acquainted with his type. He might have a gambler’s soul, but he sure as hell doesn’t have a gambler’s head. I warned him he’d lose his shirt in that game and he laughed at me. You should’ve kept him home on the ranch where he belongs.”

To Jack’s surprise her fierce scowl vanished and she jerked as if he’d struck her. “I’ve tried. Ever since Ma died, I’ve tried. It’s only gotten worse, with Pa gone, too.” She abruptly turned her head to stare blindly at the wall, her arms folded over her chest. “He wants things I can’t give him.” After a moment, she blew out a shaky breath and glanced at Jack. “And I told you, my name’s not Hal.”

The unguarded emotion he glimpsed on her face struck Jack like a fist to the chest. He felt a spurt of anger against Ben Ryan. Probably all his life the kid had let his sister shoulder his responsibility along with her own. Ben had no idea what he had. At one point in his life, Jack recalled he would have sold his soul to know Hallie’s kind of love from anyone in his makeshift family.

He started to raise a hand to offer a comforting touch, then stopped himself cold. He wasn’t about to make that mistake. She’d probably reach for the gun she had slung on her hip, thinking he intended to take advantage of her vulnerability.

“Hallie, I’m sorry about what happened with Ben,” he said instead. “And your losing the ranch, too.”

The gentleness in his voice made Hallie feel worse than before. She swallowed hard, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and not let herself get upset in front of him. “But not sorry enough to give it up.”

His expression hardened. “No. And you know why.”

There was nothing she could say that would make any difference now. Without a word, she went and got her horse, Grano, from the stall, saddled the Appaloosa and led him outside. She mounted up, not bothering to check if Jack followed.

She started her horse into a gallop with a quick slap of the reins, wanting to pretend for at least a few minutes that everything she’d ever taken for granted hadn’t been lost for good.

“Damn! Damn that good-for-nothing, smooth-talking—ouch!” Hallie yelped as the sharp pricks of cactus needles pierced the seat of her pants. She couldn’t help blaming Dakota for this even though for all she knew he was still back at the ranch.

After her confrontation with him, she’d galloped her horse hard across the open grassland, relieved when she’d gotten to the edge of the cliffs to look back over her trail and find herself alone. After checking the grazing herd of cattle, she’d walked her horse along the rough path below the cliffs, taking a more leisurely pace back to the barn.

But as she’d started to turn the stallion toward the pasture again her horse had suddenly whinnied and reared back, throwing her bottom-first onto a patch of prickly pear. Stunned, Hallie didn’t see the rattlesnake until it slithered off the path in front of her into a crevice in the rock. Grano she couldn’t see at all.

Sucking in a shaky breath and letting it go in a whoosh, Hallie shifted slightly, then froze as pain sliced at her bottom.

All at once everything—the fall and her throbbing backside, Ben, Pa’s death, losing the ranch—seemed too much.

“This is all your fault, Jack Dakota!” she said out loud. “Everything is your fault!”

Except it wasn’t. No matter how much she wanted it to be. Angry tears stung her eyes. She was nearly as mad at herself as she was at him. How could she have let this happen, all of it? How could she ever put it right?

By getting yourself off this cactus for a start, she told herself. Sitting there sniveling wasn’t going to change things. And it wasn’t going to get the cactus spines out of her behind.

Hallie braced herself and pushed upward, jerking herself up onto her knees. For a moment, she hardly dared breathe for fear any little movement would make the pain unbearable.

Then, bent over in what felt like the most undignified position a woman could get herself into, she pulled off her bandanna, wadded it up and put it between her teeth to bite if the pain got too bad.

One by one, she began plucking out the cactus needles.

After the first three, she wanted to lie down and cry. But all she had to do was picture that roguish grin on Jack’s face if he ever found her in this position, and it made her bite down and yank harder.

The sixth one stuck hard and Hallie let out a yell when she finally managed to yank it out.

Absorbed in her task, fighting the pain, she didn’t hear the approach of a horse and rider coming fast across the open ground. Only when she lifted her face and found herself staring at a familiar pair of black boots did she realize she had an unwelcome audience.

She spat out the bandanna and looked up into Jack’s face. “You!” Jerking to her feet, she gasped as the cactus needles sank deeper.

Jack knelt in front of her at once and grabbed her by the shoulders, preventing her from moving. “Keep still or you’ll kill yourself before you get your shot at me.”

“Just go away!”

“Right, and leave you by yourself, full of cactus needles. What were you trying to do here?”

“Oh, hush up. And leave me alone! I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, I can see that.” Jack considered the situation and decided she’d been in the best position possible to get the needles out when he’d found her. “I think you’d better just bend over again and let me pull them out.”

“I said I don’t need your help!”

“Stop being so damned stubborn, woman. If you don’t get rid of those soon, you’re going to be begging me to shoot you just to end your misery.” Picking up the bandanna, he rolled it tightly and offered it to her again. “Here, you’re going to need this. Now turn around. You can plot my murder while I’m pulling them out.”

With fury, loathing and humiliation swelling in her until she swore she’d explode, Hallie ground her teeth against the bandanna and bent over. Even accepting Jack Dakota’s help had to be better than this pain.

Ignoring her provocative position and the small, heart-shaped curve of her backside, Jack forced himself to concentrate solely on the task at hand. One by one, with tender force, he tugged the needles from the seat of her pants.

At first she muttered curses in his direction, but by the time he finally wrested the last needle free, her anger had muted to whimpers.

“Okay, that’s the last of it, sweetheart,” Jack said.

Gently, he helped her straighten. Something twisted in his chest when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. She held them back, keeping her pride intact. But he could see what the effort cost her and how much she was hurting.

“Hallie, I—”

“I hate you, Jack Dakota,” she said, her eyes narrowed, her fists clenched. “I wish I’d never laid eyes on you. I wish Redeye had shot you when he had the chance.”

“I never intended for you to get hurt.”

She didn’t know whether he meant the cactus or him buying her ranch, and she didn’t care. She ignored the throb of pain in her backside and faced him squarely. “Well, you’ve said the words. Now get back up on your horse and ride off. I don’t need you.”

She started to turn away from him, but Jack caught her arm and pulled her to face him again. “Not without you.”

For a moment they stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Jack looked at her closely for the first time and realized she’d lost her ugly hat. Her braid had come undone and a wild riot of waist-long hair, a light honey-brown in the sunlight, fell over her slender shoulders, making her look more like a vulnerable young woman than the rough-riding ranch woman she pretended to be.

The intent way he looked at her only made Hallie feel more agitated. “Don’t you ever listen to anything I say?”

“Every word. But I’m not leaving.”

“I need some privacy to tend to myself. Go back to the ranch. I’ll be there soon enough.”

“Sorry, darlin’,” Jack said, “but I can’t do that.”

Before she could protest, he slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her to a place in the rocks where she could rest her weight without leaning on her bottom.

Hallie glared at him. “What does it take to get rid of you?”

Jack only grinned and began rolling up his sleeves. “You might as well get used to having me around. One day you might even like it. Now—” he eyed her with a glint in his eyes “—let’s have a look at those holes the cactus left behind.”

Hallie stared. He couldn’t be serious. One thing was for sure, he was crazy if he thought she’d ever let him touch her again. Especially not there. But looking at him, Hallie knew he would.

And the worst of it was, right now she had neither the will nor the slightest idea how to stop him.

In fact, she almost said yes. That voice of his, deep, expressive, with laughter running underneath, and the way he looked at her, as if she mattered—it almost persuaded her.

Then he flashed a grin, as if he knew she was going to give in, and it jolted Hallie to her senses. What was she thinking to consider letting him see her half-naked, and then let him put his hands on her?

“I know that look,” Jack said.

“Then you know I plan on tending to myself,” Hallie retorted, pulling away from him.

Jack seemed as if he was about to argue with her, but after a few seconds he held up his hands and backed up a step. “You might try a mud pack with sage leaves. It’ll help the pain enough to get you back to the ranch.”

“You get stuck with cactus needles often?” she asked, eyeing him doubtfully.

“Once is enough, so don’t get any ideas, Hal. Here…” He handed her his canteen. “Take a swig and I’ll get you some sage leaves.”

The temptation to set him straight about his inclination to order her around warred with the throbbing ache in her bottom. The ache won. Without a word, Hallie limped awkwardly away to find a place among the rocks out of Jack’s view where she could pull down her pants.

She refused to think about him as she jerked the denim over her hips along with her drawers and used some water from his canteen to gingerly sponge the punctures in her tender flesh. All the while she tensed, listening for any sound of his return.

“Hallie?” he called after a few minutes.

“Don’t come any closer!” she yelled, even as she heard the crunch of his boots on the rocky ground.

“Sorry, my aim’s not that good. Here…” Reaching over the rock outcropping, he dangled a red bandanna filled with dirt and sage near her nose. “There wasn’t much sage, but add some water and it should do for now.”

Mixing the concoction with her fingers, Hallie dabbed it against her swollen skin, closing her eyes against the sting. On the other side of the rocks, she could hear Jack pacing, humming a little under his breath, and suddenly she felt hot and prickly all over.

He couldn’t see her, of course. She’d made sure of that. The pacing stopped. She froze. He took a few steps, slower this time. Breathing fast, her heart thudding, Hallie yanked up her pants as quickly as she could, wriggling to get them over her hips and fastened.