by Donna Alward
Get a grip, he reminded himself. Like she said. Get it over with.
They went into the office and he went straight to the desk and hit the power button on the computer. While the old beast was booting up, he went to the first filing cabinet.
“This is where you’ll find the paper files and records of invoices and receipts. The top drawer is this year’s. Second drawer is last year’s. Year before that was boxed up and put in the basement.”
He shut the file cabinet door before she could really get a look inside. He’d forgotten how small the office was. And cold. While he logged on to the computer, Lacey went to the small space heater and flicked it on. “I see why you keep this in here,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “It’s chilly.”
There was only one chair in the office, so she leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen as he brought up files. The scent of her shampoo swam around him, all soft and floral, and he clenched his teeth.
He resented her. He appreciated her. And, as she rested a cool hand on his shoulder as she looked at the screen, he finally admitted to himself that he wanted her. He didn’t want to. All of it fed into this big ball of confusion that was centered in the middle of his chest, like a weight pressing down on his collarbone, making it hard to breathe.
He cleared his throat and tried to ignore her hand. “So this is what we’ve brought in.” He clicked another icon and brought up a second sheet. “Our expenditures are in this file.”
She stood up straight and stared at the simplistic columns. “You mean to tell me you’ve been doing all this in a spreadsheet?”
“That’s how Joe had it set up. He showed me. He’d run it that way for years.”
“Clearly. That program’s version is ancient. Why didn’t you upgrade to accounting software?”
Of course, another criticism. That was just what he needed. “I’m a rancher, Lacey. Not an accountant.”
“The new programs are easy to use, and you don’t have to worry about copying and pasting stuff and making sure your formulas are correct. You enter it once, it posts it in the proper place and you can generate the right reports and everything. Heck, you can even direct file your taxes and stuff.”
“And when would I have time to convert everything over and learn the program, huh? This is a working ranch. I’ve got my hands full just keeping things running around here and making sure we’re in the black.” He half turned in his chair and looked up at her. “At the end of the day everything balances. Isn’t that what counts?”
“And that’s great. It truly is. But...” She frowned at him. “I just thought...I’m staying here and not paying a bit of rent to Duke—”
“It’s a third yours. Why would he charge you rent?”
“You take great pleasure in reminding me of that, don’t you?” she answered, her words clipped. “I damn well know it’s a third mine. You don’t think I feel that pressure every day? That I don’t feel some sort of obligation even though I want—” she broke off, shook her head. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Understand what?” He got up from the chair and faced her, his pulse quickening as the tension thickened in the small office.
“I need to stand on my own two feet! I need to stop feeling like life is happening to me and instead feel like I’m making it happen. I need to find my own job, pay my own bills, know that I’m not dependent on someone else for my happiness. For my...fulfillment.”
They were incredibly different, so why did he feel like those words applied to him too? Particularly the part about relying on someone else for happiness.
“Is that what happened with your husband?” It was an intimate question but he asked it anyway. Just what sort of life had she had with him? He’d been putting snippets together here and there from what she said, from what Duke said.
“Yes. He checked out of our marriage and left me behind, picking up the pieces. And there were a lot of pieces. So I don’t need reminding that I’m staying here on my brother’s hopes that I won’t leave, because once again it’s not just my future at stake, it’s his and yours and everyone else tied to Crooked Valley and if I can’t figure out my own life, how the hell can I be responsible for someone else’s?”
“Does it feel better to get that off your chest?” he asked, looking into her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparked with anger and frustration. He shouldn’t be finding her so attractive this way, but he couldn’t deny his own body’s response to her heightened state.
“Not really. You want to know why I asked Duke to approach you about the books rather than come to you myself? Because I knew this would happen. I know you don’t think much of me, and you think I don’t care. Whatever, Quinn. You’ve made up your mind, fine. But I was at Brandt yesterday and I couldn’t help but compare this ranch to theirs and I wanted to know if the one thing I’m good at could help my brother. So sue me or yell at me or whatever. Just know that I’m not the one standing in the way here.”
“Oh, that’s rich.” His blood heated again, annoyed by her accusation that any of this could be his fault. He’d been doing more than his share since Joe Duggan’s health had started declining. He’d been thrilled when Duke had decided to stay on, because burning the candle at both ends and being a single parent was starting to take its toll. For her to accuse him of standing in the way of Crooked Valley’s success was just ludicrous.
“I’ll have you know I’ve been working this ranch for over ten years—”
“And that’s great,” she interrupted. “But heaven forbid you rely on anyone else, right? Or accept that someone might know more than you. Particularly someone you don’t respect.”
Her chest was rising and falling quickly, the sound of her breath audible in the silence that fell.
“You want to waltz in here and turn things upside down and then leave again. Excuse me if I don’t get all excited about the possibility of having to clean up your messes.”
“I don’t want to turn things upside down at all! What are you talking about? I’m trying to help!”
Quinn stared at her and felt his frustration bubble up and over. There was just too much Lacey in his life all the time. In the morning when she made coffee and packed Amber’s lunch for school. When she baked her stupid cakes and used her own stupid fabric softener on his clothes so he had her scent with him every damn day. Family dinners at night and the way she worked around the house while he took Amber through her bedtime routine. The little hesitation each evening when their eyes met and they said good-night before going to their separate rooms far too early, just to avoid time alone together...
“Maybe you could help a little less,” he snapped. “I understand you’re at loose ends and not working, but Amber and me? We’re not your little project. We’re not your surrogate family. So stop trying so goddamned hard to be indispensable to us. You’re not Marie, so quit trying to be!”
She pulled back as if he’d struck her, her wide blue eyes filling with unexpected tears at the cruel words.
“Goddammit,” he said as his control snapped. He stepped forward and cupped her head in his hands and kissed her, full-on, no holds barred, lips and tongues meshing in a furious, passionate dance.
Oh, God.
It had been so long since he’d held a woman in his arms, since he’d felt the softness of a female body pressed to his or heard a murmur of pleasure ripple through her mouth to his. She wasn’t fighting him off, he realized, she was straining to reach him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades as she held him close and her teeth...oh God, her teeth bit into his lower lip, sending sparks of desire rocketing through him. He reached down, cupped one hand around a delicious buttock and pulled her against him, her gasp of surprise giving him a strange satisfaction as he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips.
He ground his pelvis against hers once, aching for her,
but it was the one step that brought them both out of the passionate haze and into the present.
She pressed her hands to his chest—when had it started heaving like he’d been running? “Quinn,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of wonder and apprehension. “What are we doing?”
He had to get a grip. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, dropping his hands and backing up a step, needing to put some distance between their bodies in an attempt to clear his head.
“I...” She looked at him, her eyes wide and wary. “I never tried to replace your wife.” Her lower lip quivered. “I know how much you loved her. Everyone says so. I swear I just wanted to help.”
“I’m sorry I said that,” he replied roughly, meaning it. “That’s my own frustration and I shouldn’t take it out on you.” His own frustration indeed. It had been a year and a half. Why did he feel disloyal? It wasn’t reasonable to think he’d go through the rest of his life alone. To think that he wouldn’t care for someone again. That wasn’t logical.
But once more, his heart got in the way. And once more, he realized that there was more than his heart at risk here. It was Amber’s, too. Amber, who clearly needed her mother so much. If this went anywhere, and ended badly, she’d be so hurt.
“Then the kiss was...” Lacey’s voice whispered through the room, soft and uncertain.
He swallowed. Admitting he was sexually drawn to her would be like dropping a match on gasoline. He was in no position to leave Crooked Valley and neither was she. There was really only one thing to do, and that was lie. Something he was never comfortable with, but which he knew was necessary for all their sakes.
“Frustration. Again, I’m sorry. It was unfair of me.”
He would swear she looked relieved and disappointed all at the same time. Had she been feeling the same pull as he had? It seemed impossible, but she’d definitely participated equally in the kiss, practically wrapping herself around him...
Down, boy.
Accounting. He had to get back to thinking about numbers and columns.
“About the books,” he said, turning around and looking at the computer screen which was now a floating mass of bubbles as the screensaver took over. “Have a look. Convert them if you want. When the time comes for you to go, I’ll hire some part-time help to keep them up to date. Or maybe you can teach Carrie. As her pregnancy progresses and then after the baby’s born, she’ll be spending less time as foreman.”
He didn’t look at her again. Couldn’t. He just spun on his heel and left the room, grabbed his jacket and boots and headed out to the barns. Anything to get some breathing room and get his head on straight again.
He wanted to say that the kiss had affected him the most. It would be easier, because it was purely physical.
But that wasn’t what stuck in his mind right now. It was how hurt she’d looked when he’d accused her of insinuating herself into his life. And that told him one disturbing fact: more than his libido was involved where Lacey Duggan was concerned.
And that was troubling indeed.
Chapter Eight
Lacey examined the expenditures column once more, matching them to invoices and looking at ways to streamline some of the administrative costs of the ranch. As far as operational costs, she’d made a list of potential items to ask Duke about, since she knew very little about the actual ranching aspect. Clearly Quinn wasn’t interested in being involved, and she wasn’t going to force it. Especially after that kiss.
She sighed, slid her hand off the mouse and stared blindly at the monitor. The kiss. It had been surprising, passionate, glorious, magnificent. She hadn’t imagined Quinn had that kind of raw intensity, but there had been nothing soft or tentative about how he kissed her. It had thrilled her right to her toes, leaving her breathless and off balance.
Just thinking about it sent a spiral of desire whipping through her.
But Quinn wasn’t interested. He was frustrated, he’d said. And unhappy with himself for doing it.
Way to make a girl feel great.
She inhaled deeply and put her hand on the mouse again, determined to get through this section of the accounting today. Quinn didn’t want her here. He accepted her help because he needed it, not because he wanted it—or her. Fine. She’d clean up the books for Crooked Valley, and throw herself into her employment efforts again. Something that took her away from the house. If she were lucky, she’d find something in Great Falls and she’d be able to move out and really start over rather than feeling like a mooch.
Quinn picked Amber up from day care and for once the bubbly chatter of the little girl didn’t lift Lacey’s spirits. Supper was an unusually quick fix of what Lacey’s mom had inaccurately called goulash—ground beef, macaroni and tomato soup. If Quinn noticed the change in effort, he said nothing, and Amber ate it up without a complaint, as long as there was lots of grated cheese to go on the top.
Quinn wouldn’t meet her eyes.
After the dinner mess was cleaned up, Lacey disappeared back into the office. Once more, Quinn didn’t interfere. If he assumed she was working on Crooked Valley stuff, all the better. Tonight she was sending emails and making phone calls about the benefit dance for Quinn. Before, she’d thought it was a nice thing to do, but after today, it meant that the sooner the money was raised, perhaps the faster they’d get back in their house and not be in each other’s hair all the time. Right now Lacey was thinking if she had anywhere else to go...
But she didn’t. So the easiest solution was getting Quinn back in his old place.
Amber popped in to say good-night, and Lacey’s heart gave a bittersweet pang as she realized how much she’d come to love the little girl. She kissed her clean hair and said “Good night, honey.”
Amber was nearly to the door when she spun back. “Lacey? Will you help me with my Valentines tomorrow? My teacher gave me a list with the names in my class but I’s still learning my letters.”
If things had gone according to plan with Carter, they might have had a daughter like this. It seemed like the muscles in her abdomen tightened, a reminder of what could never be. She could never carry a child of her own. God knows she’d tried. The hysterectomy had pretty much taken care of any of those hopes.
“Of course I’ll help you,” she answered softly, knowing she couldn’t take her dissatisfaction with Quinn out on Amber.
“Our party is Friday,” Amber added with a quicksilver grin. “I told my teacher I would bring cookies.”
Of course she did. And she knew just how to wrap Lacey around her little finger, too. Not that Lacey minded. Not this once.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Your daddy is waiting to take you to bed.”
“Okay. Night, Lacey.”
When she was gone, Lacey put her head in her hands, bracing her elbows on the desk. What a mess. Why had she allowed her emotions to get involved? She was supposed to be here to start over. Not get attached to a family that was not her own. She’d worried about not getting along with Quinn at the beginning. Now it was...it was just too much.
She could do this. All she had to do was stay rational, logical. There was nothing wrong with liking Quinn’s daughter. She was Duke’s sister, after all. Even if she didn’t take on her part of the ranch, she could be a part of the circle that made up Crooked Valley.
Except the circle as they all knew it might not even exist if she went her own way.
“If?” she murmured in the quiet office. Where had that word come from? Up until now it had been when.
Darn. She sat back in the chair and blew out a breath. Duke had been smart after all. He’d known, hadn’t he? That once he got her here, in the house, it’d be hard for her to leave. Once she saw the people, the life...
He was sneaky, her brother.
She’d driven into the Brandt spread and found herself making comparisons. Gone headfir
st into the books and gotten a fair picture of all that went into the running of a cattle operation. She cared. She cared whether it succeeded or failed.
And she didn’t want to be responsible for it being sold out from under her brother, not when he’d made a whole new life here for himself. He had a wife. A baby on the way. And he was happy. Could she really ruin that just so she could be right?
After hitting save, she shut down the computer and went out into the hall, found her boots and jacket and started pulling them on. Upstairs a door closed and then Quinn appeared, coming quietly down the steps. Her heart jumped simply at the sight of him. He might be able to ignore what happened between them, but she could not.
“It’s late to be going out,” he said softly, looking back upstairs and then at Lacey again. She avoided meeting his gaze directly, not wanting to get sucked into the depths of his eyes. That happened all too easily.
“I’m just running down to Duke’s for a minute. Leave the door unlocked. I’ll lock up when I come back.”
“Okay.”
She zipped up her coat and pulled on a pair of thick mitts.
“About today...” he began, but she held up a hand.
“It’s okay. You said what you needed to. I’m fine, Quinn.” She couldn’t help it, she met his gaze. “If anything, it woke me up to reality. So don’t worry about it.”
“Reality? What does that mean?”
She swallowed tightly, wondering what to say, how much to reveal. “I think we’ve both been wondering, don’t you? Now we’ve got it out of our system. We can forget about it and move on. Focus on what’s really important.”
He frowned. “Like what?”
“Like Crooked Valley. Like me finding a full-time job. And you need to worry about getting your life back to normal. For Amber.”
His cheeks flushed a little. “Yes, for Amber,” he agreed. “I have to think of her first. I don’t want her getting too attached to you if you’re just going to leave again. She doesn’t need disappointments.”
