Roz Fox - Mom's The Word

Fortunately he was saved the effort of evasion. The screen door opened and a pretty blond woman strolled out. Ginalyn Westin had her mother’s classic beauty but was cursed with her father’s arrogance. Though Jake had never seen her make a move that wasn’t calculated to put herself in the spotlight, she was still a sight to behold. Shimmering straight blond hair, big blue eyes. She’d perfected the slow sultry drawl of her native Virginia and she had a definite, if practiced charm. Unless a man had seen how those fine attributes changed when things didn’t go Ginalyn’s way, he’d grovel at her dainty feet, which was what most sons of area ranchers did. Jake might be the only single male in a hundred-mile radius who kept his distance.

Which hadn’t escaped the young woman’s notice. “Why, I declare,” she said, slipping a slender arm through her dad’s sturdier one. “If it isn’t Jacob Cooper. Let me guess. He’s happened to ride in at suppertime, but before the evening’s done, he’ll get around to inviting me to the harvest dance.” She managed to sound bored.

Jake, who’d whipped off his hat the moment she appeared, resettled it low on his brow. “Wrong on both counts, Ginalyn. My business was with your dad. We’ve concluded it, so now I’ll get along home.” Jake gave Mojave’s cinch a yank. He whistled for Charcoal, who’d drunk his fill at the trough, and swung lithely into the saddle. Touching his hat brim with two fingers, he wheeled the gelding around and cantered down the lane. Not, however, before he heard Ginalyn’s indignant sputter.

“Jacob Cooper, just for that I’ll accept Gordon White’s invitation. And don’t think I’ll save you a dance, because I won’t!”

Raking his boot heels lightly along Mojave’s sides, Jake picked up the pace. He should go back and apologize. She was already complaining to her dad about Jake’s rude behavior. The news would make its way to the Triple C. Wade would remind Jake that pretty eligible women didn’t grow on trees. Eden and Nell, though more subtle, would find some other approach to get the same point across.

Ginalyn was a beauty and well educated. She just didn’t happen to fit Jake’s concept of an ideal partner and ranch wife. When his well-meaning family had asked him to spell out what he did want in a wife, he’d failed to put it into clear terms. As a result, the Coopers were exasperated with him. Hell, he was exasperated with himself.

He knew what he didn’t want. He didn’t want a wife whose focus was her looks, her clothes or the next big party. Nor did he want someone who’d set her sights on frequent trips to Phoenix. So many of the valley daughters were given a taste of the city at college, and they made no secret of wanting a man willing to help them escape the hard life.

Jake didn’t think it was all that hard. Granted, the money was sometimes iffy and the weather could be the pits. By and large, the freedom a man felt when riding the range was worth far more than the disadvantages. The freedom to call his own shots and be his own man appealed to him.

He tried to understand the situation from a woman’s perspective, a wife’s, if you will. He certainly didn’t object to women pursuing careers. His mother and Eden weren’t tied to the ranch. What set them apart from women he’d dated was their ability to combine happiness at home with work. Jake couldn’t explain it even to himself. He only knew he’d continue to hold out. No matter how tempting it was when winter rolled around to chuck ideals and simply find someone eager to warm his bed.

Lost in thought, Jake didn’t realize he’d unconsciously detoured past the spring until the light from Hayley Ryan’s campfire came into sight. It flickered and blinked in the distance, still far enough off that he could change course without her ever knowing he’d been there.

He still had plenty of time to skirt her encampment.

And he did kind of go around it for a few hundred yards. Then he dismounted and covered the remaining distance on foot. All the while his heart slammed against his ribs. For crying out loud, did he want her to shoot at him again—and aim truer this time?

Of course he didn’t. He wanted to know if she’d found anything worthwhile in her trek over the hill today. Jake had walked to within shouting distance before he admitted that what he really wanted was to see that she’d made it safely back to camp.

Something shifted ever so slightly in his chest the moment he saw her kneeling next to a blazing fire pit.

“Hayley!” he called. “It’s me, Jacob Cooper. I don’t mean to scare you. I’ve been to the Westin ranch and thought I’d stop to say hello before I head home.”

Hayley jerked and went white at the sound of a male voice. She’d been a million miles off in her mind, planning tomorrow’s assault on the hillside she’d settled on to start her mineral explorations. Jacob Cooper was the last person she’d expected to see again today.

Yet his walking in on her with no warning sent shivers down her spine. He might have been anyone. She shouldn’t drop her guard. Especially after the sun had set.

“Mr. Cooper,” she said with a hint of unsteadiness in her tone. “Were you this much of a pest to my grandfather?”

Jake laughed as he looped Mojave’s reins over a limb. “Ben always had a hot pot of coffee on the fire—and an occasional shot of rum.” Thumbing back his hat, Jake moved closer. “If he thought I was a pest, his good manners kept him from mentioning it. I always had the notion that Ben got a kick out of my stopping to talk.” Jake bent and patted the collie’s heaving sides. He pulled a sack of kibble out of his saddlebag and, after sweeping a clear place on the ground, put out a handful.

Hayley dusted her hands along her thighs to wipe away the sweat dampening her palms. She didn’t doubt that Cooper was telling the truth. Her grandfather, like most lonely prospectors, loved a captive audience. He didn’t always waste time talking to her, though; he was a man’s man. Hayley could well imagine him exploring a wide range of subjects with a local cowboy.

If she were to be honest, she’d admit that she, too, liked her long evenings broken up by lively conversation. Tonight might be the exception. Her stomach had felt queasy for a good part of the day. She’d brewed a pot of chamomile tea to go with her light evening meal, but she didn’t know if this was because of the pregnancy or if something she’d eaten for breakfast hadn’t set well. At any rate, she didn’t feel much like entertaining. She particularly didn’t feel like spending time with someone who might see more than she wanted him to see. Jacob Cooper struck her as a man who’d harbor strong opinions about what pregnant women should and should not do.

“You might want to start carrying a thermos, Mr. Cooper. I prefer herb tea to coffee.” She slanted her gaze toward the pot sitting on the grate over her fire.

“Tea, huh?” Jake wasn’t able to hide his disappointment. “My sister-in-law serves herb tea to her customers. Must be a woman thing.” He stripped off his hat and raked a hand through his matted hair.

“Your sister-in-law runs a café?”

Jake shook his head. “She designs jewelry. In Tubac,” he added, although he didn’t know why. Hayley hadn’t given him any reason to think her polite question had been an attempt to strike up a real conversation.

“I’ve never been there. To Tubac, I mean. Well,” she said breezily, though she felt far from breezy as her stomach had begun mixing it up again, “don’t let me stop you from going home to supper. I was about to douse my fire and turn in.”

Jake’s roving gaze lit on a nearly full plate of food she’d left on the small table that had earlier held her mineralogy books. He wasn’t usually the type to stick around where he clearly wasn’t wanted, but something perverse in him made him dig in his heels. Perhaps it was the tense look that brought an aura of fatigue to the Ryan woman’s expressive face.