A Baby on the Ranch: A Baby on the RanchRamona and the Renegade

by Marie Ferrarella

  After tossing out a quick “I’ve got to take this call” to Samantha, she answered her phone. As she jotted down notes regarding the cost of the various procedures she would undergo for in vitro fertilization, she kept her responses vague and to a minimum.

  Whichever way she went, adoption or having a child with a sperm donor, achieving her dream wouldn’t be cheap.

  “Is everything okay?” Samantha asked when Maggie ended her call.

  “It was the dentist reminding me about my appointment.” She paused.

  Samantha tilted her head and looked as though she might probe further. “I’m glad there’s nothing wrong. You seem concerned.”

  She should tell Samantha something plausible. The woman was the biggest gossip on the show, and if she didn’t know the reasons for someone’s actions, she speculated instead, and the theory spread through the office like a cold in a preschool. “I need a filling replaced. I was a little surprised at how much it’s going to cost.”

  Having dampened Samantha’s insatiable curiosity, Maggie continued. “Now back to business. I’ve got to convince Griffin to do the show. We don’t have time to start the search process over.”

  “You really think if you see him in person you can change his mind?”

  “It’s worth a shot.” Maggie picked up her phone and dialed. “I need to book a flight to Denver.”

  * * *

  HER SPEECH ALL PLANNED and memorized, the manila folder containing the bachelorettes’ photos on the passenger seat of the rental car, Maggie pulled into the Twin Creeks parking lot in Estes Park, Colorado. As far as she was concerned, NASA was right: failure was not an option.

  After parking, she grabbed the file of photos and decided to leave her coat in the car since the October day had turned out to be unseasonably warm. The beauty of the area left her breathless. The magnificent snow-capped Rocky Mountains filled her vision, majestic and strong, keeping watch over the town below. Trees, some gold now that fall had arrived, dotted the landscape, reminding her of autumn days on the farm. The quiet, so unlike Los Angeles, enveloped her.

  Gravel crunched under her Target flats as she walked toward the large reddish-brown, two-story ranch house, the file clutched in her moist hand. When she reached the split-rail corral fence, a beautiful chestnut horse whinnied and sauntered toward her. Unable to resist the gelding’s wide brown eyes, she stopped to look at him.

  The animal bobbed his head in greeting, and shoved his velvety pink muzzle under her hand. “Aren’t you the charmer,” Maggie said as she rubbed his forehead. “We haven’t been introduced and you expect my undivided attention.”

  If only she could captivate the right man as easily, then she could pursue motherhood the old-fashioned way.

  “That’s his name, you know. Charmer. He’s always been a lady’s man.”

  Despite the brevity of their conversations, Maggie instantly recognized Griffin McAlister’s voice. When she spun around, her heart rate soared and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the cowboy in front of her.

  Griffin was even better looking in person. Tall enough for her at five-ten to look up to—the good Lord had taken his time when he’d created this man.

  Dressed in formfitting faded jeans, a tan shirt and scuffed cowboy boots, the golden god oozed sex appeal. He pushed the brim of his hat off his forehead. The fact that he knew how much power he wielded shone in his ocean-blue eyes.

  I bet this cowboy breaks hearts like I break a nail.

  A crooked smile spread across his face, displaying gorgeous dimples. “Charmer, there, likes to be caressed behind the ears. Don’t you, boy?”

  The horse nickered in response. Maggie slid her hand along the animal’s muscled neck to his ears and scratched behind them, but her gaze remained locked on Griffin.

  With a casual grace, he strolled toward her. “He’s putty in your hands now.”

  Rarely at a loss for words, Maggie scrambled to compose herself. Don’t stand here staring. Not that her gawking appeared to bother Griffin. This probably happened to him all the time. And he liked it.

  “Are you here for a horseback-riding tour?” he finally asked.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m here on business.”

  She waited for his eyes to fill with recognition at the sound of her voice, but instead they twinkled, giving her the chance for a fresh start.

  “What business would a pretty city woman like you have at a horse ranch?”

  Pretty city woman? Maggie almost laughed and asked him whether he was delusional or needed glasses.

  No one, not even her family, who loved her dearly, had ever described her as pretty. The closest she came was passably cute, and she hadn’t heard that word used in conjunction with her name since she was twelve. Obviously, the horse beside her wasn’t the only charmer around.

  “Have you ever thought about being on TV? You’re a natural.” Viewers would love Griffin. His charisma would leak out of televisions across America.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned back on his heels and smiled.

  Lethal.

  “I got to admit, a woman’s never used that line to get my attention.”

  He thought she was coming on to him? Once again she doubted his sanity. No way would a woman like her think she stood a chance with a man like him. Griffin belonged with models or Miss Colorado, not a plain Jane. “It’s not a come-on. I’m Maggie Sullivan. We spoke on the phone.”

  His smile evaporated. “I told you I wasn’t interested.”

  “Since I flew here from Los Angeles to talk to you, it would only be polite for you to hear me out.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come. That gets me off the hook.”

  He turned and stalked off toward the barn, Maggie chasing after him. She smiled. There was nothing better than walking behind a man with an exquisite butt in a pair of jeans.

  “I brought pictures of this season’s bachelorettes.”

  Griffin stopped at the barn door and faced her. “Lady, can’t you take a hint?”

  She held out the file. “Look at the women’s pictures.”

  “What part of I’m not interested is hard for you to understand?”

  “I understand it. I just don’t accept it.”

  He shook his head. “If I look at the pictures will you leave me alone?”

  “Absolutely.” She resisted the urge to shove the folder into his hand, and instead held it out.

  He took the folder and then reached for the barn door. Wood groaned and hinges squeaked as he tugged it open. They stepped inside. “If you have hay fever you should head out now.”

  He wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. Little did he know that a girl with three older brothers learned persistence as a survival skill. “Hay doesn’t bother me.”

  Griffin turned on the lights. Next, he pulled out the photos and flipped through them. Maggie shoved her hands into her pants pockets and crossed her fingers.

  She bit her lip. No smile. No twinkling eyes. Where was his excitement? From his deadpan expression, she’d guess he was reviewing his tax return rather than photos of beautiful women. How could the sight of that many gorgeous females fail to elicit at least a grin?

  “You’re right, the women are attractive, but I’m still not interested.” He handed the file back to Maggie, but she refused to accept it.

  “Oh. Wait a minute. Are you gay?”

  He stiffened, carefully set the folder on a stool and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Most red-blooded heterosexual men show some interest when they look at pictures of stunning women, but you didn’t.”

  “You think I’m gay because I didn’t get all hot and bothered looking at those photos?”

  Griffin stepped closer until they stood inches apart. His sparkling gaze pinned her. When he glanced at her mouth, all coherent thought deserted her. He leaned forward as if he might kiss her, sending her body into overdrive.

  Reality check, Maggie.
You’re not his type.

  He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his hard form, leaving her dazed. She couldn’t breathe. His mouth moved toward hers.

  He’s going to kiss me.

  I can’t let him kiss me.

  Why would he kiss me?

  She jumped backward. Never graceful at the best of times, their feet tangled and she lost her balance. Her rear end hit the cement floor hard, with a decidedly unfeminine thud.

  “I bet you’re used to women falling at your feet all the time,” she quipped in an attempt to ease her embarrassment.

  “Not like this.” Griffin held out his hand, but she shook off his offer.

  As she stood, she resisted the urge to rub her sore backside. That fall would leave her with a nice bruise.

  “I am not gay.”

  “I believe you.” Maggie looked away from Griffin’s piercing gaze to regroup. Once in control again, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t read the bios on the other side of the photos.”

  “You said you’d leave me alone if I looked at the pictures.”

  No bachelor meant no show. No show meant no job and no money, which meant she’d have to put her dreams of motherhood on hold.

  “I know I did, but you don’t understand how great this opportunity is. The television exposure will be phenomenal. It could bring in a lot of business to the ranch, and who knows what other opportunities. Is there somewhere we can go to talk more?”

  “You’re as persistent as the horseflies around here.”

  “You might as well hear me out, because I’m not going away until you do.”

  He stalked across the barn, dismissing her. “I need to get to work.”

  Again she trailed after him as he strolled through the barn and stepped inside the last stall. A minute later he came out, a hay bale in his arms. His cotton shirt stretched tight across his chest. His biceps flexed and bulged. Maggie’s mouth went dry. If Griffin decided to go into politics he’d win by a landslide on the women’s votes alone, and he wouldn’t have to say a word.

  After dumping the bale on the cement floor, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out wire cutters, drawing her attention to his rear end again. The faded denim emphasized his rock-hard thighs, and the air around her grew thin. The temperature in the barn was sweltering.

  He snipped the twine and pulled off a hunk of hay. Bits of golden dust swirled in the air, the musty smell tickling her nose.

  “I can’t take time off work. My answer is still no.” His earthy male scent, mixed with the fragrant hay, wafted over her as he strode into the next stall.

  “Did I mention we’ll pay you three thousand dollars an episode?”

  This time when he exited the stall, his eyes gleamed with interest. “You should’ve told me that first.”

  Men went on her show for one of three reasons—the money, the gorgeous women or the exposure. She and Samantha were wrong. Neither the women nor the publicity interested Griffin. Money was the key.

  “How many episodes are we talking about?” He pulled off another chunk of hay and walked into the next stall. Maggie followed.

  “Ten. That’s three thousand an episode for ten weeks. Thirty thousand dollars. That’s what you’d be paid in compensation for taking two and a half months off work.”

  Inside the stall, the cinnamon-colored mare’s ears perked up at Griffin’s entrance, and the magnificent animal whinnied. “I know, girl. I’m running late and you’re a little ticked with me. It’s not my fault.” He nodded toward Maggie. “Talk to her. She’s slowed me down this morning.”

  Maggie wanted to laugh. He had to be kidding. Griffin possessed the air of a man who took his sweet time and figured the world would wait for him.

  Looking at the animal, she said, “My apologies. I’m sure it’s my fault Griffin’s tardy this morning.”

  “On the rare occasion I’m running late, she forgives me because of my sparkling personality. Don’t you, pretty lady?”

  Maggie bet the horse wasn’t the only female who ignored his tardiness.

  “Sorry. I’ve got to call you on that one. I’m guessing that’s your fatal flaw.”

  His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe what she’d said. Women probably overlooked his little white lies all the time.

  “You’re wrong. My mother was a stickler for punctuality and drilled that trait into me.”

  “Then what is your fatal flaw?”

  He smiled, revealing his killer dimples. “What makes you think I have one?”

  Maggie paused to collect her thoughts. She could barely see straight, much less talk with him looking at her. She’d have to get over that little problem when they started filming.

  A man like Griffin wouldn’t give you a second look.

  True, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the scenery.

  “Are you telling me you’re perfect?”

  Griffin sauntered across the stall, the horse trailing after him. As he dumped the hay in the trough attached to the far wall, he said, “That’s what my mom says.”

  “That doesn’t count. It’s a law that mothers have to say that about their kids.” Maggie smiled. “Even mine cuts me slack for my overly competitive nature. What if I asked your brother?”

  For the briefest second, Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “Rory would tell you I’m too laid-back, but with him you have to factor in the whole sibling rivalry thing, so you can’t trust his opinion.”

  Something told her that for Griffin this was more than your average sibling rivalry. “I have three older brothers. They can be a pain and definitely are judgmental.”

  “Your brothers gave you a hard time?”

  “Constantly and mercilessly.”

  As Maggie stared into Griffin’s eyes she couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about. She thought for a minute. That’s right. They’d been talking about his fatal flaw. Oh, this cowboy was good at getting around uncomfortable questions.

  He lifted the remaining hay. Strong arm muscles rippled under his shirt as he strolled out of the stall. Sweat glistened on his bronzed skin. Yup, God had done some of his best work with this man.

  “What if I agree to be the bachelor on your show? What happens next?”

  “First of all, I want to make sure we’re clear on one thing. You do realize the purpose of our show is to find you a wife, right?”

  ISBN: 9781459233881

  A BABY ON THE RANCH

  Copyright © 2012 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:

  A BABY ON THE RANCH

  Copyright © 2012 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

  RAMONA AND THE RENEGADE

  Copyright © 2011 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

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  the Renegade