“Yes. I can drive if you want me to.”
Her eyes widened. He supposed she hadn’t known.
He shoved a hand in his pocket and grabbed his hat from the counter, pushing it on his head, grateful for the protection it offered. He suddenly felt like he needed it. “I have an SUV in the garage that is modified with a left foot gas pedal. I brake with the left foot as well.”
She jerked her chin up. “That’s fine.”
It took several trips, but they carried the groceries to his SUV. It would be a long drive if they weren’t talking to each other. He couldn’t blame her for being angry about the water, but he didn’t know what to do about his constant desire to hold her and kiss her.
He pulled out of his driveway and onto the highway, heading west. “I’m sorry about the water. I’m competitive, and I let it get away with me.”
“That was fun. Someday I’m going to be in a food fight, too.” She slanted him a look. “Just warning you.”
“Noted.”
The sparkle was back in her eyes, and relief cooled his chest. She didn’t hold grudges. Good to know.
An hour later, they pulled down the long driveway to Elaine Anderson’s house. Four kids in various stages of dress and undress and one big black lab who’d obviously just downed three shots of expresso came spilling out onto a porch that listed portside and wobbled as the kids and dog tumbled across it and down the rickety steps.
A woman who might have been pretty if she hadn’t looked overworked and sleep-deprived came to the door with one hand shading her eyes, the other hand holding a basket. She wore boots and jeans and a loose t-shirt despite the October chill. She looked frail and completely unsuited for the harsh North Dakota winter. As unsuited as the dilapidated house behind her.
Ford shifted in his seat. He’d forgotten his eye patch. His fingers gripped the steering wheel. He’d not been much of anywhere since his accident and not ever without his eye patch. He’d been all tied up in knots about Morgan and hadn’t given it a thought until he’d seen the kids jumping off the porch. They’d run screaming in terror when they saw him.
He pushed his hat farther down his head and drove slowly to the parking area beside the old, beat-up minivan.
Morgan’s hand landed on his arm. He turned to look at her.
“It’s okay.”
“I forgot my patch.”
“I know.” She tilted her head. “I can get the groceries if you want, but I think it’s okay.”
“I’ll scare the kids.”
Her brows scrunched together, and her lips squeezed. “Have you seen them? One of them, he looks like he’s about four, just jumped off the banister, landed on his brother, they both fell in the stones, and now they’re both back on the porch, climbing on the railing, and I think they’re going to jump off together.” Her eyebrows lifted way up. “I don’t think these kids are afraid of anything.”
“They need a trampoline.”
“Something tells me they’d drag it halfway between the house and that tree right there and jump between the three. The kids don’t need a trampoline; their mother needs duct tape.”
Ford raised his one brow. “Obviously we have different parenting styles.”
“I guess so, since I prefer that children actually survive childhood.”
“And I don’t think you need to strap pillows to their backsides in order to accomplish that.”
“It wasn’t their backsides that I was worried about.”
“What? You’re afraid they’ll lose half their face, some fingers, and a leg? It’s not a big deal.”
Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then she laughed, loud and long. So did he, shocked that for the first time since his accident years ago, he’d made a joke about it.
They got out. The dog made six laps around his legs by the time he reached the back. A well-placed elbow as the black monster tried to jump up and lick his face kept it from happening again. He’d have thought the dog would have found someone with less sharp angles, but it only made him seem to love Ford more as he pressed against his legs, his tail going like a windmill on a March morning.
Morgan reached the back carrying a kid whose diaper sagged to his knees and who had a big knot on his forehead. A little girl with long blond ponytails held Morgan’s other hand.
“Are you a giant?” the little girl asked, aiming her big blue eyes up at Morgan.
“It probably seems that way to you,” Morgan said, her brows raised at him.
He read the look easily. The kids would notice anything and comment on it, not just his face.
“We brought some goodies for you to eat. Are you going to help us carry them in to your mother?” Morgan asked, like she dealt with little kids every day.
The little girl nodded, and Morgan handed her a family-sized package of toilet paper that was almost as big as she was. “Is that too heavy?”
Rather than answer, the little girl turned and started toward the house.
“You don’t have any fingers,” the boy who had jumped off the porch yelled at Ford, peering around, trying to get a good look at Ford’s hand.
Ford held it up for him to see. “He’s missing an eye, too,” the older brother said in awe.
Ford steeled himself. “You want a closer look?”
The boy didn’t say anything, but he kept staring, so Ford lifted his cowboy hat.
The kids’ eyes widened. “What happened to you?” the older one asked in awe.
Ford thought about all the things that he could tell the boy. The temptation to blame it on a dragon fight or something equally fantastical was strong, but he decided to go with the flat-out truth.
“I didn’t listen to my mom.”
Their eyes widened like full moons on the horizon, and their mouths made large pizza “o”s.
He looked over their twin blond heads at Morgan, who had her lips pursed. He lifted a shoulder. “It’s the truth.”
She lifted a brow.
He shrugged, setting his hat back down firmly on his head. “Every idiot knows it’s not safe to climb into a gravity wagon when the auger’s running beneath it. She told me to be careful. If I’d listened, I wouldn’t have been in that wagon.” He grinned, automatically using the grin that showcased his dimple in the best light.
Her eyes tracked down, and her face softened.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “She’s falling for the dimple.”
Her mouth dropped, and she put the hand that wasn’t holding the baby on one hip. “You’re flashing your dimple at me on purpose? Seriously? I am so not falling for that. Get a load of groceries and carry them to the house. It gets dangerous around here when you try to use your brain.”
She looked at the little boys and shook her head. “Here,” she said, handing the little one a bag with butter and ketchup. “Can you carry this?”
He nodded solemnly, like he was in church, and took the bag.
“Can you take two?” she asked the bigger boy.
“Sure can.”
Ford liked his swagger. “Bet he can take three.”
“Oh, I don’t want to overload him,” Morgan said, lines appearing in her forehead.
“I can do it!” he cried.
“I’m gonna take three, too,” Ford said.
“Oh, you’re going to take three in each hand,” Morgan announced.
The boy watched with bright eyes.
“She’s brutal,” Ford confided. “She does this all the time at home. Works me ’til I drop.”
The boy nodded, skipping along beside him as he walked to the house. He set the bags on the porch, with an eye out for the dog which was jumping and yipping around Morgan. She still carried the baby in one arm and a ten-pound bag of potatoes in another.
He stopped her as they passed on the walk. “Think we need to get a fifty-pound bag next time.”
“Good idea.”
“You mind going on in and chatting with Elaine? See if there’s anything she needs that we can do.” He watched her fac
e, hoping she understood what he was saying. Elaine might need a friend or a shoulder. She might also let them know of anything else they could do to help that Elaine’s pride wouldn’t be too big to take.
Morgan got it immediately. “Yes.”
“Great. I’ll carry the rest of the stuff to the porch, but I’m not going in. I’ll wait with the kids in the yard.”
“Okay.” She grinned. “Remember that water you squirted on me?”
“I apologized about that.”
“You just play with the kids while I talk to Elaine. For three hours.” She sauntered off. If she were his wife, he’d have smacked her butt with the sassy way she was waving that thing around. But since she wasn’t, he admired it for just a couple of seconds before whistling for the dog who had given up shot glasses and apparently found a five-gallon bucket of concentrated expresso.
The last thing he carried in was a box of two 25-pound bags of bulk hamburger with a couple of chuck roasts thrown on top. He opened the door and set that inside. Across the kitchen on the other side of the table, Morgan was in such deep conversation with Elaine that neither of them looked up when the box thumped on the floor. Hopefully they got to it before the dog did.
He went back out, sending the oldest boy in for a diaper and a few more clothes for the baby. The little guy was old enough to walk, and he had hair. Ford figured that would make him like, maybe two. Heck, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he was ever around kids. But he’d been one, and he’d had a great dad, so once he paid the oldest boy a dollar to change the diaper, he got some clothes and a pair of boots on him. Carrying the littlest and holding the girl’s hand, he led them over to the tree to see if they could find some branches on the ground that would work as hockey sticks.
He thought Morgan had been joking about making him entertain the kids for three hours. But three hours later, he figured out she’d been serious. Or Morgan and Elaine’s discussion had been serious.
The baby had long since fallen asleep on his shoulder, and their hockey game had ended when the younger boy got hit in the head with the flat rock they were using as a puck.
But Ford had found an old tire in the barn, and there was plenty of twine, so they’d hung a tire swing on one side of the tree and, using a board and more twine, fixed a flat-seated swing to the other side. Eventually the twine would break, but it wouldn’t be any worse than falling out of the tree, which was bound to happen anyway, so he figured it was six of one and a half dozen of the other, and it kept the kids entertained, so net win.
He was ready for a nap himself by the time Morgan stepped out on the porch. He handed the baby off to her, and Morgan handed it to Elaine. Elaine might have been just a smidge under average height for a woman, and beside her, Morgan really did look like a giant. A beautiful, slender, intelligent giant. There weren’t too many women around who could stand shoulder to shoulder and toe to toe with him. He figured himself pretty blessed that he’d had her beside him for even a little while.
She and Elaine said their goodbyes and gave each other a quick hug. Elaine might have wiped a tear off her face, but Ford couldn’t tell for sure.
Morgan stepped off the trembling porch with what looked like a fresh-baked loaf of bread in a plastic bag.
His stomach growled. What would Morgan say if he asked if they could eat the bread on the way home? Maybe he could hint about it until she suggested it.
Turned out, he didn’t have to suggest it.
“She just pulled this out of the oven about ten minutes ago. It’d be better with butter, but what do you say we each get half?” She opened the bag a little. The seductive scent of fresh-baked bread filled the car. Morgan put her nose over the bag and sniffed.
“You’re going to give me the little half, aren’t you?” he teased. She was so real. It was hard for him not to be, too.
She opened one eye. “You’re lucky I’m sharing at all.”
He lifted a brow and flashed his dimple, just because he knew she liked it. “I might be missing some body parts, and you might be a giant, but I think I can still take you in a wrestling match.”
“You’re driving.”
“I can be stopped and have that loaf of bread in my mouth in eight seconds or less.”
“Eight seconds? Hmm.” She looked him up and down. “Old bull-riding tendencies coming out? I don’t recall hearing that you were a bull rider.”
“Heck no. Way too dangerous.” He let go of the steering wheel with his right hand and flexed it, just so the irony didn’t escape her. Unnecessary, since she laughed out loud.
She broke the bread in half, and he didn’t even care who got the big half.
“I haven’t washed my hands since we did the dishes, but I’m so hungry I don’t even care,” Morgan said between bites.
“Yeah. Something about running around outside with a bunch of energetic kids and that dog...”
“I’m glad Lolli is not that big.”
“Or that hyper.”
“It suits a family with children.”
“Sure does. Saves money on buying a pony.”
They laughed again and ate for a while in companionable silence.
Finally, Morgan sighed. “I’m glad you told me to go in and talk to Elaine.”
The road was straight and not busy. Other than concentrating on keeping the SUV on the road when a gust of wind hit them, driving wasn’t difficult. Ford chewed and swallowed. “She’s out there by herself with the kids. I’m guessing she was happy to have another adult to talk to.”
“Yeah. She was. She said the church ladies come out, and of course she sees them when she goes in on Sundays, but there’s so much work to do, and it’s all on her to do it, that she doesn’t have time to volunteer or go to anything extra at the church.”
“It’ll get worse this winter when she’s snow-stayed.”
“Yes. She admitted she was dreading winter.” Morgan eyed him. “She put up a lot of vegetables from the garden, but they don’t have much meat, and her hens are two years old, so they’re not laying much. Just...I’m glad you’re helping her out.”
“Sounds like it’s too much for her.”
“Yeah. She’s talking about selling even though the ranch has been in her family for generations. If she weren’t renting the ground out for pasture for the big farm down the road, she’d have sold already. That money is all that’s keeping her head above water.”
“I’ve tried to flat-out give her money. She wouldn’t take it. She mailed my cash back to me.”
“Stubborn and full of pride.” Morgan pulled another piece of bread off and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before speaking again. “She showed me a letter that she received a couple of months ago.”
“Yeah?” Ford bit into his bread. It was almost gone, and it made his belly very happy.
“It was from a lawyer...have you ever heard of Mr. Edwards who owned the Sweet Water Ranch?”
“I have. Everyone in Sweet Water knew him. He owned ground out in the western part of the state, but when the fracking craze hit, he sold it. Made millions, people said.”
“Billions.”
Ford eyed her.
“He bought the ranch in Sweet Water but invested his money, had some other business ventures going on, and when he died, he apparently left a billion dollars to Elaine.”
Ford’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“This letter says that she can inherit her money only if she’s married within six months of receiving the letter. She has to stay in North Dakota, too.”
Ford swallowed.
Morgan continued. “I told her I didn’t think it sounded like a real offer. I also didn’t think it sounded legal. But she’s considering putting an ad online, trying to attract a man to marry her. I told her that was too dangerous.”
“She has the kids to consider too. There are some real wackos out there.”
“I know. But she feels like she has no other choice. Even if she sells the farm, where wi
ll she go? What will she do? But to put all her hope in this inheritance letter when it’s probably bogus, and to risk her safety and the safety of her children...”
“The letter’s legit.”
“You’ve seen it?” Morgan asked, shocked.
“No. I’ve heard of it.”
“For never leaving your house, you’re remarkably well-informed.”
He couldn’t tell her he had one of his own, lying in his desk drawer upstairs in his office. “It’s not legal, but it’s legit.”
“So she wouldn’t get the money? That’s what I thought—”
“She’d get it. They can’t make her get married for it.” He lifted a shoulder. “There’s no actual law. The outcome could depend on a judge’s discretion, and she’d need the means to fight it. If she lost, it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“I see.” She chewed on her lip and gave him an assessing glance that made him want to squirm in his seat. “You’re saying that if she got married, and they stayed in ND, she would inherit one billion dollars.”
“Yes.” There’d be taxes and stuff, but no point in going into it. He’d already said more than he should have.
Morgan munched on her bread in silence for a while. The miles rolled by, and the quiet drumming from the SUV motor was the only noise other than the whistle and howl of the wind.
Without really thinking about it, he rested his right hand on the shift knob. He startled when he felt a whisper-soft touch on his skin.
His eye landed on his hand. Her finger traced the veins that stuck out. One finger, barely touching him. His stomach tightened, and his heart powered up. He could hardly stand it, yet he wanted more.
He let it go for a few miles, fighting himself. Finally, he turned his hand over and threaded his three fingers with hers. It felt right, from his hand to his heart to the bottom of his feet and everywhere in between. Completely right.
They drove on in silence.
Finally, her bread was gone. She turned to him. “There is one way we could help Elaine.” Her voice was soft and a little hesitant. Maybe fatalistic.
“How’s that?” His mind had already gone to other subjects. Kissing Morgan. When Georgia got back, would Morgan be willing to date him? He wouldn’t be good at dating. Maybe he could court her. Old-fashioned, yes, but more suited to his style. Would she be happy with him?
Cowboys Don't Marry the Beauty Page 14
