Galahad in Blue Jeans

by Sara Orwig

  “How can you if the bridge is out?”

  “I can go to a little town that’s west of here. Meanwhile, there’s some food in the freezer. Cook what you want for lunch.”

  “Yes, Captain,” she said softly, and he realized he was once again giving orders.

  He shook his head. “It comes with the territory. I’m used to running this place.”

  “And not answering to anyone,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes that made him want to wrap his arms around her and try to capture some of that playfulness.

  “Vivian, that is so like a woman. Let a woman in your life, and she’ll promptly try to change it.”

  “Only for the better,” she said, and this time there was no mistaking the twinkle.

  “Well, that’s from her standpoint. My life suits me to a T just the way it is, which is why you’re the first woman to ever stay all night under this roof.”

  To his amazement, she laughed out loud, a merry, tinkling laugh that warmed him even though it also half annoyed him because he would have expected any reaction except laughter.

  “So a baby’s arrival forced you to let a female—three females—into your sacrosanct male domain.”

  “That’s right. Old habits are impossible to break.”

  “So, cowboy, you think a woman can’t change you?” she asked in an exaggerated, sultry drawl that flung a challenge at him.

  “Maybe it would be fun to let one try,” he rejoined. “What did you have in mind, Vivian?”

  “I’ll work on it, crusty bachelor, set in your ways,” she said teasingly, slanting him another mischievous look. “Go on out to your horses. I’ll manage fine here. See, I’m accustomed to giving orders, too.”

  “That’s why mine annoy you,” he said quietly, jamming his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. She was flirting, lightly, casually, but the effect on him wasn’t casual.

  He turned, strode off the porch and crossed the yard in long strides. At the gate he glanced back over his shoulder. She stood watching him and he wondered what ran through her mind. The wind whipped against her, making the blue robe and gown cling to her slender figure, and mentally he whisked them away, remembering her long, shapely legs. Strands of her brown hair blew in the wind and he waved and felt idiotic for doing so.

  She waved in return. He let out his breath. “Get a grip, Whitewolf,” he told himself, amazed that he had enjoyed having breakfast with her this morning. Never once had he wanted to bring any woman he dated home, and the thought of having anyone else around constantly never appealed to him, but he had been with Vivian almost three days now and had enjoyed sharing the early hour of the morning with her. The flirting had him aroused, wanting to get chores finished and get back to the house to be with her.

  He headed toward the garage and one of the pickups. In minutes he was driving across his land, but his thoughts were still back at the house on Vivian, her laughter, her blue eyes, her soft voice. He had to grin when he remembered how she had laughed because there had never been a woman who had stayed at his house before.

  As he was checking on a fence along the west boundary, Pete Quincy drove up and climbed out of a truck. Matt glanced over his shoulder at his foreman, who was wiry with skin as dark as Matt’s. He was shorter than Matt and had a thick mass of black curls that capped his head. He strode toward Matt in a rolling gait. Despite his size, Pete was one of the strongest men Matt knew and he had never seen Pete back down from a fight. For an instant he thought about Vivian and Mary Catherine and he dreaded telling Pete about them.

  “Hey, boss, I got the strays that were lost in the storm rounded up. That thunder spooked them, and they were scattered to hell and gone this morning, but I think we’ve found all of them.”

  “Good. We can’t afford to lose any.”

  “Hear you delivered a baby the other day.”

  “How in hell did you hear that?” Matt asked, always amazed that word got around the county like lightning streaking across the sky. He wiped sweat out of his eyes and stood, rolling up baling wire and jamming wire pliers into his hip pocket.

  “Saw Meg Preston whipping up the road. She stuck her head out the car window and yelled that you were delivering a baby and why wasn’t I up there helping?”

  “I figured you were busy.”

  “I was. I delivered a calf. How’d it go?”

  “Baby’s fine.” Matt shook his head. “The mother ran off the road—”

  “Green sports utility vehicle? I saw it this morning.”

  “Right.” Matt wondered if he might as well stop talking. Pete seemed to already know all there was to know about the situation. “She has a little girl, Pete,” Matt said carefully, knowing Pete had never gotten over losing his wife and little girl in a car crash. “The water was up too high at Rabbit Creek to get into town so I brought them home with me, and we hadn’t been there any time before the baby came. I’ll tell you, I was damned glad to see Meg Preston.”

  “How old is the little girl?”

  “Four,” Matt said, knowing it was the age Pete’s child would have been. “She’s afraid of men. The father wasn’t good to them.”

  Pete shook his head. “I’ll never understand life.”

  “Yeah, well, I hope I don’t have to deliver any more babies.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl—Julia Ashland.”

  “Good for you, boss! Deliverin’ all those calves taught you a thing or two.”

  “It’s not quite the same.”

  Pete grinned as he turned and strode back to his truck.

  At half past two Matt stopped work and returned home to see about Vivian’s car and go into town to get groceries. As he drove across a field, he had to admit he wanted to see Vivian. He even wanted to see the baby again and Mary Catherine. Before he took them anywhere, he needed to shower. He was hot, mud-spattered and sweaty. As he climbed out of the pickup, he grabbed his balled-up shirt and went around the garage toward the house.

  He swiped the shirt across his brow and pulled off his bandanna to wipe sweat from his neck and forehead. The sound of laughter startled him and as he watched, Vivian got up from the grass and picked up the baby. Mary Catherine was turning somersaults across his lawn and laughing along with her mother. Matt slowed to watch them, realizing they hadn’t seen him yet.

  Vivian was dressed in a bright red skirt and blouse, her long hair tied behind her head with a red ribbon. He drew a deep breath because she looked beautiful and she filled the yard with sound and laughter and color, and he quickened his step, wanting to be with her.

  She glanced up and met his gaze, and even yards away, just mere eye contact with her delivered an impact His stomach constricted and his pulse jumped. She watched him approach, and he became aware of his disheveled state. He brushed dust off his jeans, but there was no brushing mud off and he was damp with sweat.

  Still watching Vivian, he walked through the gate. “Hi,” he said, glancing at Mary Catherine, who had become solemn, and as soon as he looked at her, she moved close to Vivian and held to her skirt.

  “Hi, Mary Catherine,” he said softly, and smiled at her and then looked at Julia. “How’s little Julia?”

  “She’s fine,” Vivian said, looking at Matt. She couldn’t resist letting her gaze sweep over his bare chest once again. He was thick through the shoulders and all muscle with taut brown skin that had a faint sheen of sweat. There was an earthiness to him, his large-knuckled hands had streaks of mud and he looked like a man who often did hard physical labor.

  “They’re both awake, so do you want to go with me to get the things from your car?”

  “I’d like to,” she answered.

  “I’ll shower first,” he said, and she nodded. He moved closer to look at Julia, who was gazing around, her little hands locked together. Vivian was aware of how close Matt stood. She could smell the sweat and dirt and feel the heat from him, yet he still was appealing. Too much so because she was intensely
aware of his physical presence. She liked the idea of a man who worked his land; working with his hands seemed direct and honest. Maybe it was a reaction to Baker, who had hired everything done that required physical effort or maintenance.

  “Hi, little baby,” Matt said softly. Julia gazed around and blew bubbles, and he smiled, looking up at Vivian. “She’s beautiful,” he said in a deep voice, a silky tone that sent a sizzle of warmth curling in her.

  “I think so, too,” she said, gazing directly into his eyes. As they looked at each other a long moment, she knew that Matt Whitewolf was attracted to her. It showed in his dark eyes, and she felt it deep down inside each time she was around him.

  “I won’t be long,” he said without moving.

  She nodded, yet she couldn’t look away. His dark eyes seemed to hold her, desire and curiosity both showing in their depths.

  Then he moved away and strode toward the house, and she couldn’t resist turning to watch him. He had a long, purposeful stride that she was beginning to know. Muscles rippled in his back. Her gaze ran across his broad, strong shoulders and down to his narrow waist and trim backside. His jeans rode low on his hips.

  “Are we going with him, Mommy?” Mary Catherine asked with a frown.

  “He’ll take us to the car and you can get some more of your things. He’s nice, Mary Catherine. Very nice,” she added softly, looking back at the house.

  “I’m glad he doesn’t yell,” Mary Catherine said.

  “No, he doesn’t yell and that’s very nice,” Vivian answered. She went inside to change Julia and she saw the door closed to the bedroom he was using.

  She changed Julia and then brushed and retied her own hair, looking at her reflection in the mirror and running her hand over her stomach, which bulged slightly but seemed so flat after the past months.

  She splashed on a dash of cologne and turned to brush Mary Catherine’s hair, humming as she worked. Mary Catherine studied her.

  “Are you happy, Mommy?”

  “Yes, I’m happy,” Vivian said, and realized she was happier than she had been in a long time. A lot of happiness was due to Julia, but she knew that wasn’t the only cause of her joy.

  “You like staying here, don’t you?” Mary Catherine asked.

  “Yes, I do,” she answered forthrightly, and turned to brush the other side of Marty Catherine’s hair as Matt knocked at the open door.

  Startled, she looked up and blushed, embarrassed that he might have overheard what she just said to Mary Catherine.

  Chapter 5

  “I need a different pair of boots. Preferably ones not caked with mud.”

  She waved her hand. “Come in. It’s your room. I still think you should move back into it.”

  His gaze ran around the room and he shook his head. “Nope.” Matt glanced again at the clothes and toys strewn around the room. A sheer nightie was tossed on the bed and the blue robe was lying across it. His gaze lingered an extra second on the nightie as he imagined Vivian in it, and then he realized what he was doing and hastily looked elsewhere.

  He crossed the room to the closet, thinking how the entire house had changed. The kitchen and family room had toys and Mary Catherine’s little shoes and crayons. How they had gotten so much stuff out of such small bags, he couldn’t imagine, but his house had changed. It even smelled different, with the scent of roses and talcum discernible when he stepped into the hall. And now there were scents of food in the kitchen that he hadn’t noticed before.

  A few minutes ago while shaving in the bathroom, he had heard them come in from the backyard. Mary Catherine’s high-pitched voice carried and when she wasn’t around strangers, or around him, she sounded carefree and animated, chattering happily to her mother.

  He had heard Vivian’s soft, low voice in answer, unable to distinguish all her words, yet hearing her talk and finding himself listening intently.

  Why was she so damned appealing? He wondered as he now looked through the closet for his boots. There were good-looking women in Dakani and they were ready, willing and able to date. Vivian was not. Nor would she be living within five hundred miles of him before long.

  Whatever he was feeling, she was feeling it, too. It was just as unwanted with her as it was with him. Far more so. He could see that she had no place in her life for him. She was a city girl, educated, successful in her own business. No matter what else, their backgrounds were a chasm between them that was unbridgeable. He was a plain country boy, a high school dropout.

  He found his black boots and then sat on the chair to pull them on.

  “This is taking you away from your work,” Vivian said.

  “It’s a welcome diversion. I called a mechanic to meet us and tow your car. I’m guessing your radiator is smashed, and usually a radiator is a major repair.”

  “I was driving under the speed limit,” Vivian said, watching him. “I’m amazed it did that much damage.”

  “The ground was wet. You probably slid. You may have stepped on the gas pedal without realizing it.” Matt tugged on a boot, his biceps flexing as he pulled.

  Mary Catherine watched him intently, and Vivian knew her daughter was afraid of him, yet making her own judgments about him. He was very good with her, too, Vivian realized, always speaking in a quiet, gentle voice, never coming on strong or giving her attention she didn’t want. Right now, she suspected he was fully aware of Mary Catherine’s study, yet he ignored her.

  Grateful to him, Vivian experienced little mental warnings to stop finding him attractive in so many ways. She turned and picked up Julia, who had fallen asleep. “Ready, Mary Catherine?” she asked as she buckled Julia into a baby carrier.

  Matt jammed his foot into his other boot, stood up and shook his leg to shake down his jeans and then joined them as they went down the hall to the back door. He locked up, and as they walked to the gate, Pete drove up in his pickup and got out to hand Matt a list.

  “Here are things we need if you’re going into town.”

  “Vivian, this is Pete Quincy, my foreman. Pete, this is Mrs. Ashland, her daughter Mary Catherine and her new baby Julia.”

  They exchanged greetings and Vivian noticed the lingering look he gave Mary Catherine. He stepped forward to look at Julia.

  “Let’s see this baby the boss delivered.”

  Vivian smiled at the pleased look that crossed Matt’s features for a moment while Pete looked at the baby.

  “She’s a fine one,” he said with a thick voice and a tone that made Vivian wonder what was running through his mind. He stepped back. “Thanks. Nice to meet you,” he said abruptly over his shoulder as he climbed back in his truck and swept in a circle, heading back toward the barn.

  “Tell you later,” Matt said, and she was startled, surprised he realized she had questions in her mind. “I’ll get my pickup and come get you.”

  He jogged toward the garage and she watched him, wondering about Pete Quincy, wondering about Matt, who kept his feelings well hidden most of the time she had been with him. They had known each other not quite forty-eight hours now, yet it seemed a lifetime.

  His dark hair flew back as he ran. How much was she turning his life topsy-turvy?

  Soon his black pickup swept around the garage and headed toward them.

  “Do we get to ride in his truck?” Mary Catherine asked.

  “Yes. Would you like that?”

  “Yes. Can I ride in the back sometime?”

  “Not unless it’s from here to the garage. It’s not safe out on the highway.”

  “Can I get in the back later?”

  “I’m sure Matt will let you climb into the back. We’ll ask when we come home.”

  “You ask,” she said timidly.

  Matt pulled up in front of them and stepped out of the pickup.

  Vivian lifted the baby carrier into the back seat and started to buckle it in. Matt took her arm gently. “Here, I’ll do it.”

  Amused, she straightened up. “If you want.”

  H
e gazed at her, his fingers still holding her arm. They stood close and she could smell his aftershave and saw that he had shaved when he showered.

  “Independent lady. You’ll have to get used to my ways.”

  She arched her eyebrow as she looked at him. “You think so? I didn’t figure I’d be around long enough.”

  “We’re going to be together, Vivian. It may take a while for them to repair your car.”

  The conversation was about the car, but beneath it, she had the feeling that he wanted her to stay and it made her pulse race. Her gaze drifted down to his mouth. His lips were chapped; his lower lip was full and she couldn’t keep from wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

  Startled by her line of thought, she glanced up and saw fires in the depths of his brown eyes, as if he had been able to guess what she had been thinking.

  She turned abruptly. “Mary Catherine, are you buckled up?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He strode around the pickup with her. Without thinking she reached for the door the same time he did. His hand splayed out and held it shut and he turned to her, boxing her in.

  “I’m accustomed to doing everything for myself,” she said, too aware of how close he stood, liking it too much.

  “Vivian, I’m an old-fashioned country boy. I open doors for ladies, quaint country custom as it is, so get used to it, lady, because as long as you’re here—”

  “—you won’t be able to change,” she concluded with amusement. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes that took all her amusement away, and her heart thudded as his gaze lowered to her mouth. He was going to kiss her. The moment became electric, and all her nerves tingled.

  Jamming his thumbs into his belt, he stepped aside and opened the door to hold it for her.

  With a flicker of disappointment she climbed inside. Tucking her skirt around her bare legs, she caught him looking at her legs. He glanced up. “Pretty shoes.”

  “Thank you,” she said, suspecting be hadn’t looked at her shoes at all.

  He closed the door and came around to climb inside and glanced back at Mary Catherine.