Home on the Ranch: The Montana Cowboy's Triplets

by Allison B. Collins

  The boys all hooted, licking their hands off.

  She turned to Hunter. “How much do you want?” she asked, then felt herself go red when he looked at her with so much heat she was surprised the ice cream didn’t melt on the spot.

  “All of it,” he murmured beneath the boys’ chatter.

  “Mustn’t be greedy,” she said just loud enough for him to hear her.

  “I can handle it. Can you?”

  Chapter 10

  The cheerful kitchen faded around her as Mackenzie stared into Hunter’s eyes. She knew they weren’t talking about dessert. The longer she looked at him, the hotter she got. So not what she needed. Hardly even thinking about it, she lifted the can and squirted a dollop on his nose.

  He looked as surprised as she felt at doing it. Then he smiled, slow, and scooped it off.

  She plopped back into her chair and grabbed her bowl, shoveling in a bite of ice cream. As soon as they were through with dessert, she’d scoot off to her room and lock the door, throw herself into work or making more necklaces. Anything to keep her mind occupied.

  The boys hopped up and asked to be excused. She jumped up as fast as they had, and began clearing the table. Taking a load to the sink to be rinsed, she turned around and almost slammed into Hunter. She kept her eyes focused on his chest, not risking a look up at him. Not when she knew her interest in him would be shining there.

  For several long heartbeats, he didn’t move or speak. The heat from his body was welcome, considering she was frozen inside and out. Inhaling, she caught the scent of his aftershave, the one she’d wanted to snuggle into the other morning when they’d camped in the fort.

  Then he raised his hand and used one finger to lift her chin up. He wasn’t smiling, and his eyes looked deep inside her.

  She couldn’t force herself to look away.

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Do what?” she asked, hating that her voice had gone breathy.

  “Clear the table. Avoid me. Pick one.”

  “I’ll be leaving soon. I can’t do this,” she said, and pushed away from him.

  He caught her wrist and held it lightly. “Do what?”

  “I—” she began, then stopped when one of the boys thundered into the kitchen.

  “Miss Mack, will you read to us?”

  “I’ll read to you, boys,” Hunter said, and he set a bowl by the sink.

  “Naw, we want Miss Mack. She has a pretty voice. Puhleeze?”

  “Sure, Eli. Show me which book you want.” She took Eli’s hand and walked out of the kitchen.

  Almost half an hour later, she’d read two books to them, then was halfway through the third when she heard sniffles. She looked at each boy—Cody and Tripp were asleep, but Eli was curled in the corner of the couch now, crying.

  She set the book down and scooted over to him. “What’s wrong, lad? Did I read it wrong?”

  “What happened?” Hunter hurried into the room, a dish towel draped over his shoulder.

  “I dinna ken. I was reading this book to them.” She held it up.

  A pained look crossed his face, and he rubbed a hand down his mouth. He leaned closer to her. “That’s the book his mom used to always read to him. Their little ritual.”

  “Oh, no. He handed it to me after the last book. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her throat tight.

  “You didn’t know.” He lifted Eli up into a hug. “Come on, pal, let’s go upstairs.” He carried Eli up the steps and disappeared from her view.

  She wavered, not sure if she should wake the other two so they could head to bed or keep them with her so Hunter could talk to Eli.

  “Mommy?” Cody sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  She swiped her eyes so they wouldn’t see her sad for them. “It’s me, Mackenzie. Your da took Eli upstairs. Do you want to go with them or stay here?”

  Cody got up and yanked on his brother’s arm, and they both ran upstairs.

  She’d made the right decision. Remembering her little brothers after their mother died, they’d always wanted her, not a friend or a babysitter.

  She busied herself in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes and cleaning stray spots of chili that had been flung around during the dance session. Once the kitchen sparkled, she walked back into the living room. Along the way, she put the books away, picked up toys and other little boy stuff, and turned off lights.

  Hunter’s thick denim jacket was slung over the back of a chair by the windows, and she picked it up. The garment was old and well-worn, and she wanted to bundle herself in its softness. She folded it into her arms, breathed in his scent, content to do so now that it wasn’t him in person. Leaning against the window frame in the shadows, she looked out, watching big flakes fall gently to the ground.

  Yawning, she turned around and saw Hunter had come downstairs and was sitting on the sofa. He held his head in his hands, looking so defeated and broken it frightened her. She set the jacket down and crossed the room, then sat down at the end of the sofa. “Is Eli okay?”

  He jerked his head up. “I didn’t know you were still up.” Pain laced his words.

  “I wanted to see if the wee one was all right.”

  He rubbed his eyes, the low light from the dying fire casting shadows across his chiseled face. “At times they all seem fine. Then suddenly, boom. They just break down.”

  “That will happen for a long time to come, I’m afraid.”

  He grimaced. “Great. I’d hoped you’d say they would be fine.”

  “They will be fine. They’ve got you, and they’ve got their aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents, who would all walk to the ends of the earth for you and your boys.”

  He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  “What? You think I haven’t noticed how your family is? I envy you that. For me, it’s just my brothers. Don’t get me wrong, I adore them, and we’re close. But to have such an extended family is a treasure.”

  “It wasn’t always that way. Nash and Wyatt both left. Couldn’t handle Dad and the arguments, his expectations, anymore.” His voice cracked, and he rubbed his chin. “Our mom died not long after I was born. I never knew her. Nash was ten, so he tried to keep us going. Dad had it rough. Suddenly alone, and with five boys. As we grew older, we all had clashes with him. Then they left. And I don’t know why I just told you all of that.”

  “Sometimes it helps to talk to someone you don’t know well.”

  “It was hard, losing Yvette. I cared about her, but we just couldn’t make it together. I can’t imagine what my dad went through after Mom died. Bunny really mellowed him. They’re great together. They’ve all helped me with the boys. I just worry I’m not enough. That they need more than what I can give them.”

  Shocked, she scooted closer to him, laid her hand on his back.

  His shoulders hunched. “I used to get them on weekends and holidays. Now I’m all they’ve got. I need a full-time dad’s playbook.”

  “Give yourself some credit. You’re their father, and you adore them. And they absolutely love you. I’ve seen the way they watch you, try to emulate you.” She felt his muscles shift beneath her hand as he shrugged.

  “What if they’re too broken?”

  “They’re going through a very difficult time, but you’re there for them day in and day out. I know how hard it is to raise children, and believe me, you’re doing a great job. When you took Eli upstairs, did he talk to you?”

  He nodded.

  “That right there is a good thing. If he had shut you out, there might be a problem. But you’re there for them and they know it. You’ll help them through every day, every night. Keep the communication open with the boys, keep doing what you’re doing.”

  His body turned toward her, leaned in just a bit.

  She swallowed hard. “Do you know what I saw when I walked
in tonight? I saw a man taking time out of his day, after working all day to boot, and—” she smiled in the near dark “—after almost winning a shooting competition to make his boys laugh. The men I know would have just wanted to get dinner cooked, get the kids ready for bed, then settle by themselves in front of the telly. But you didn’t do that. You never do that. You give them your time, your attention and your love. That’s a treasure they’ll always have as they grow up, as they move on to their own lives and families.”

  His eyes seemed to glow and reflect the fire as he stared at her. She hoped she’d reached him, given him some peace.

  He leaned forward enough to touch his forehead to hers. “Thank you,” he whispered, his breath on her lips. “I struggle every damn day not knowing what to do, how to handle things for them. Worrying I’ll do something wrong and screw them up forever.”

  “Just keep loving them as you are.” She started to pull away, but he brushed her cheek, held her in place.

  “You’re one hell of a woman, Mackenzie Campbell. I’m really glad you came to our ranch.”

  He drew back and she couldn’t look away. Pain, relief, maybe even desire, flickered across his face.

  Closing the distance, keeping his eyes on her, he finally pressed his lips to her. His mouth slid across hers in a joining so sweet she ached. His fingers slid down her cheek to her neck, and she wondered if he could feel her pulse galloping, wild and free.

  He stilled, just for a moment, and just as she started to pull back, he slanted his mouth over hers and took the kiss deep. So deep she didn’t think—no, she knew—she’d never been kissed this way before.

  The few others she’d kissed had been mere boys. This was a man. Oh, blessed Saint Margaret, was he ever a man.

  She felt his kisses all through her body, all the way to her toes. Her heart just about thumped out of her chest, and she wanted to scream, laugh and cry all at once. The riot of emotions scared her.

  He shifted, pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her. She felt protected, desired, cherished.

  Wanton.

  They were just kissing, but it was kissing like she’d never done before, or even dreamed of.

  Chemistry. She’d heard about people who had chemistry, and never really understood it.

  Now she did.

  Kissing him was like coming home to a warm fire, then having the house explode around you while you had a cracking good time.

  She wanted to touch him as he touched her. Suddenly realized she could, since he’d initiated the kiss. Tentatively she brought her hand up to his arm, and felt his biceps shift. She slid her hand up higher, to his shoulder, then slipped her fingers beneath his shirt collar to the bare skin of his neck.

  He groaned, and the sound rumbled through her all the way down to her girlie bits.

  A log shifted and crackled, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet room. They pulled apart at the same time. Stared at each other.

  Her heart thudded, once...twice. And she jumped up, then raced to her room like the Loch Ness Monster really was after her.

  But she couldn’t outrun her feelings.

  Chapter 11

  Mackenzie pulled an arrow out of the quiver and nocked it in place. Pulling the bowstring back, she let her deltoid muscles do all the work. She pulled past the resistance, all the way to her anchor point, her finger lightly touching the corner of her mouth.

  They were back in the same area as the day before. This time there were more people watching, their voices blending in the cool breeze as it shivered through the tree branches.

  Aiming, she blew out a breath, forcing herself to relax. Focus on the target. She released the bowstring, and the arrow raced through the air. She squinted in the weak morning light. The arrow hit the target just a hair off the center mark.

  Bloody hell.

  She’d tried all night to get Hunter out of her head. Squeezing her eyes closed, she envisioned locking him in a box.

  She nocked the next arrow in place, pulled, released.

  This time it hit true center.

  The third arrow hit dead center also.

  She stepped off her mark and turned around.

  Hunter was watching her. What is goin’ through that head o’ his? Their kiss the night before had rocked her world. Had he been affected just as much?

  She nodded at him, then hurried out of the way so he could take his turn.

  They’d agreed to shoot three arrows each, in five rounds.

  Hunter stood ready, drew his bowstring back and let the arrow fly. She followed the arrow’s trajectory, and could tell it would hit the center.

  The next arrow also hit center, but the third landed just out of the red target.

  A squeal echoed behind her, and she saw Carley run up to Hunter as he left the mark. She stood on tiptoe, but he stepped back before she could kiss his cheek.

  Interesting. As she walked to the position, Hunter backed away, but Carley waited for her.

  “Win or lose, you’re not his type,” Carley said.

  “Who says I bloody hell want him?” Mackenzie snapped.

  “I’m just trying to help you so you don’t get hurt,” Carley huffed.

  Mackenzie watched her walk away, swinging her arse. Glancing at the crowd, she saw quite a few men watch as she pranced by them. Snorting in disgust, she took her place.

  Her heart raced, and she knew she had to calm down, but Carley’s remarks had made her so angry.

  She nocked an arrow, then something made her glance behind her. Hunter watched her, but she could see Carley behind him, laughing with Bryant, her costar, and pointing her way.

  Well, she’d show them.

  She went inside herself, tuned everything out so all she could hear was her own breath, her own heart beating. Just her and the bow.

  Drawing the bowstring back, she released the arrow, then immediately pulled another arrow out, nocked, let it fly. She went beyond the three arrows and sent all six flying, one after the other.

  Every one of them hit the center and formed a tight circle.

  Dead silence met her as she lowered the bow. Then applause and cheers filled the cold morning air. She glanced at Hunter—he stood slack-jawed, eyebrows raised.

  When would she learn to control her temper?

  Hunter walked toward her, held his hand out. “That was—”

  Heat and embarrassment crawled up her chest, inched up her neck. “Not sporting.”

  “Are you kidding? That was awesome. Amazing. Pure talent.”

  “Really? You’re not angry?”

  “Why would I be angry? Not everyone could do something like that, even practicing for years on end.”

  His praise filled her up. “So you admit that I do real work, not fake Hollywood stuff?”

  “Of course.”

  Now she was confused. “Then why have the competition?”

  “I like watching you in action. You’re a natural at riding, shooting and archery.” He grinned at her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, wished she had her granny’s old cast iron skillet in hand to bop him over the head. “That’s no’ verra nice of ye.”

  “Your face is so alive when you’re ticked off. Your red hair practically crackles with energy. And I wanted to see what you could do with a shotgun and a bow and arrow. You’ve got a lot of innate talent. You do anything you set your mind to, don’t you?”

  She was at a complete loss. He’d just admitted to teasing her on purpose, then he’d gone and complimented her on things she’d worked hard at learning, worked hard at being the best she could be.

  His interest had become pretty clear. She hated that she still had trouble trusting men who showed their interest in her.

  It wasn’t a bet with his brothers, was it? She’d already had her heart broken once by a bet. She had to protect h
erself.

  What would happen when it was time for her to go? That was the billion-dollar question that kept her tossing and turning at night.

  * * *

  Hunter took his hat off as he walked inside the lodge.

  “There you are, darling!” Carley called from the staircase.

  Inwardly, he groaned. He needed to let her down easy. He’d known from the beginning this was just a flirtation, on both their parts. He dreaded that Carley might be wanting more now. Mackenzie had become too important to him.

  He smiled at Carley as she crossed the lobby to his side. “Hey.”

  “I need to talk to you,” she said. “Could we go somewhere private? It won’t take long.”

  “Sure. I need to talk to you, too.” He led her to one of the smaller meeting rooms off the lobby, then closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.”

  “I have to get back to the set in a few minutes. I’m so glad we met up,” she said, sliding her hand up his arm.

  “Look, Carley. I can’t see you—”

  “I’m getting back together with Bryant,” she said in a rush, interrupting him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Seeing me with you made Bryant super jealous, and he begged me to come back to him.”

  “Then I’m happy for you,” he said.

  “I have to run,” she said, and opened the door. As she stepped out in the lobby, she blew him a kiss. “Ciao!”

  That was easy. Here he’d worried that he would hurt her by admitting he hadn’t really been interested in her at all. Now he didn’t have to.

  Now he was free. It was what he wanted, right?

  But his thoughts drifted to the kiss with Mackenzie the night before. He’d just wanted to thank her for making him feel like he wasn’t a failure when it came to being a dad. An innocent kiss was what he’d intended.

  Then he’d touched her lips, and he felt like he’d come home. That he was kissing the woman for him. He’d never felt like that with Yvette. Yeah, they’d loved each other, but they’d been so young, it felt more like playing house.

  Mackenzie was a hell of a woman. When he’d first met her, he thought she was prickly, a tumbleweed. But she had more depth than he’d ever imagined. Kind, sweet, patient with his sons, caring, funny as hell, brave, talented—yes, still prickly. He’d had fun teasing her, getting her riled up—that was when she came alive.