In a Cowboy's Arms

He nodded and moved back to the chair and obediently sat. “You’re right.” He pointed to his cut. “Have at it.”

With a nod, Jenny leaned in again, her body closer than he liked, and gently probed his wound. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

“So, how was your trip?” he asked, making conversation to distance himself from the searing ache in his brow.

She stepped back and moved to the counter. “Fine. Ava slept quite a bit, and aside from a stop in La Grande for lunch and a snack stop in Baker City, I drove straight through.” She turned back around. “You’re lucky, Mr. McCall. You don’t need stitches, so I’ll clean the wound, disinfect it, and put butterfly closures on it.”

He nodded, tempted to have her call him Ty, but decided the more formal they kept things, the better. “You showed up at just the right time. My dad probably would have just put duct tape on it and called it good.”

She laughed, sending warmth throughout his body. “Sounds like something my brother Aiden would do. He was a photojournalist overseas and is kind of the rebel in a family of practical medical professionals. My dad’s been a doctor in Oak Valley for years, and Connor, as you know, is a doctor, also.” She headed back to him, a white sterile cloth she’d pulled out of the first-aid kit in her hand. “This’ll probably hurt.”

She fussed over him for the next few minutes, invading his space. Resigned to her closeness for a while, he leaned back and let her work, needing to get the medical procedure over with and her out of his personal territory. He had to admit, though, that her steady, gentle touch and soothing chair-side manner relaxed him.

The truth was, he kind of enjoyed her fussing over him, something Andrea had never done. She’d only fussed over herself.

When Jenny finished and backed off, setting about cleaning up, he was relieved to have her away from him, a threat he could deal with from a distance.

He stood, shaking his head, which had begun to throb. A wave of dizziness hit him and he sank back down into the chair, feeling stupid for getting himself kicked.

But he felt like even more of an idiot when he realized that his plan to remain impervious to Jenny hadn’t worked very well.

He hated to admit it, but after living in such isolation, he feared that her amazing smile and magic healing touch would be impossible to ignore.

Chapter Two

Jenny cleaned up from the mid-afternoon snack of all-natural peanut butter and sugar-free crackers she’d fed Ava and Morgan earlier. The two giggling toddlers played at her feet, both content to bang on the pots and pans Jenny had dug out of the cupboard.

She looked down at the girls, her Ava a curl-topped blonde and Morgan a wispy-haired brunette, thanking God that the two had become fast friends immediately. Jenny smiled, a deep sense of contentment wrapping her in a fragile cocoon of security, soothing her in a way that nothing had since Jack had died.

She’d done the right thing by coming here. Ava seemed happy with their new situation and was safe from any harm, the number-one item on Jenny’s wish list, and life had settled into a predictable routine that made her feel secure. It was such a relief not to be a burden on her family any longer.

Looking back on her arrival three days ago, she felt foolish for doubting the decision she’d made to start a new life on this ranch. She felt even more foolish for being worried that her unexpected interest in Ty’s rugged good looks would be a problem.

Ty left the house early each morning and didn’t return until well after dinner every night. She hardly ever saw him. Everything was just fine.

Though she would never allow herself to be close to any man ever again—the pain she’d experienced when Jack died would see to that—it was still a relief to discover that she wouldn’t be around Ty very much. The last thing she wanted was to get sucked into his utter maleness. Having him gone all day, his seat absent at mealtimes, was all right by her.

Just as she’d finished rinsing out the girls’ sippy cups, Sam walked into the kitchen. “I rode the ATV out to the fence line Ty and the guys have been repairing, and they’re done.” He opened the fridge and peered inside. “He rode back with me and hit the shower and’ll be around for dinner, so I think I’ll whip up some sandwiches from the leftover meat loaf.”

Jenny dropped a plastic cup into the sink. Her stomach dipped, then a current of excitement buzzed through her. She pressed a hand to her midsection, frowning at the strange combination of dread and anticipation twisting inside of her. “Really?” she managed to say. She cleared her throat. “That’s nice.”

Sam puttered around the kitchen, gathering dinner-making supplies. Her stomach tight, Jenny herded both girls into the family room for a game of “kitchen,” as the girls called it. Chiding herself for making a big deal out of nothing—it was simply a dinner with her employer, for heaven’s sake—she sat on the couch while the girls made her pretend meals. She did her best to focus on her job rather than on the fact that beyond-handsome Ty McCall was going to be in the same room as she was in an hour or so.

After fifty or so pretend meals, she took Ava and Morgan out into the backyard to play on the plastic play structure Ty had put there, making sure she kept close to both girls at all times, especially when they climbed the ladder to the small slide. She only hoped the gorgeous early summer day would settle her nerves.

A half hour later, Sam called them in for dinner. She took each girl by the hand and led them into the house. After washing her and the girls’ hands, she checked Morgan’s blood-sugar level, noted the acceptable reading in the logbook and gave her the appropriate injection of insulin. She then settled both girls into their matching booster seats at the kitchen table.

Just about the time she felt like she had her jumpy nerves under control, Ty sauntered into the kitchen.

He looked better than any man had a right to look, freshly showered, his light-blond hair still damp, his jaw slightly darkened by his late-day stubble. She noted that his angular, handsome face was not the least marred by the butterfly closures covering one eyebrow. His tall, well-muscled body looked positively wonderful in a faded pair of Levi’s, scuffed cowboy boots, and a softly worn denim shirt he’d rolled up at the sleeves, exposing well-muscled, lightly haired, tanned forearms.

He smiled at Jenny, rubbing his hands together, his blue eyes glinting. “I’m starved. I hear we’re having my favorite—meat-loaf sandwiches.” He looked to his dad. “I hope you made a lot, Dad. I could eat a house right about now.”

He then proceeded to kiss not only Morgan’s cheek, but Ava’s, too. A warm little fire began to glow inside of Jenny.

“Look at these two darling little gals,” he said, his big hands on each of them. “What are you two having for dinner?”

“Macky and cheese,” Morgan proclaimed, waving her hand in the air. “Yummy!”

Ava clapped her hands. “Yay! Macky and cheese!”

“They love that stuff, don’t they?” Ty gently scruffed both girls’ heads, then turned his attention to Jenny, moving to his place at the table, which, unfortunately, was next to Jenny. “Do you manage to get them to eat anything else?”

As Ty moved closer, Jenny could detect the scent of clean man in the air. She cleared her throat again, avoiding his blue, blue gaze, absolutely determined to ignore how he managed to fill the entire kitchen with his presence. “Um, well, sometimes. Ava likes fruits and bread a lot, and Morgan’s partial to cheese and crackers. And anything with peanut butter on it.”

Ty nodded. “I love peanut butter, too.” Then, to Jenny’s surprise, he moved over and pulled her chair out for her. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the chair, his voice low and husky.

Jenny sat, her legs almost giving out before her rear hit the chair. “Thank you,” she said, impressed and touched by his gentlemanly manners, even if they did make her shaky and way too warm.

Ty helped Sam bring the food to the table, which included not only the makings for meat-loaf sandwiches, but what Jenny had learned was Sam’s attempt to control his weight and high cholesterol—low-fat tortilla chips, salsa and a fruit plate that made Jenny’s mouth water.

Jenny sneaked a peak at Ty as he sat down, interested in his reaction to what most physically active guys would consider rabbit food. To her surprise, he seemed perfectly content with the mostly low-fat, healthy meal.

Everyone served themselves, then Ty turned to Jenny. “How were Morgan’s blood-sugar levels today?”

Jenny finished off a salsa-laden tortilla chip, relieved that the conversation was headed toward an acceptable subject—her job. “Just fine. Nothing lower than ninety, nothing over 150.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “Thankfully, they’ve been pretty stable lately.” He reached out and stroked Morgan’s macaroni-and-cheese-covered cheek, a look of pure love and devotion shining from his eyes. “I don’t want to go through another low-blood-sugar episode any time soon.”

Jenny gave him a sympathetic smile, ignoring how his concern about his child clogged the breath in her throat, determined to keep her reactions on a professional level only. “I can understand why. But keep in mind that we have the glucagon injection on hand if we need to counteract a low, and over the long run, the lows aren’t nearly as damaging physically as the highs.”

“I know,” he replied after chewing a bite of sandwich. “But I’d still like to avoid the lows if we can, even though it’s difficult with an active toddler like Morgan.”

“I do, too,” Jenny said. It was easy to see that the low-blood-sugar episode Morgan had had three weeks ago, which had required a long, agonizing wait for the paramedics in Baker City, had really scared him. She graphically understood his need to keep his daughter safe and healthy. “As long as we stick to the regimen prescribed by the pediatric endocrinologist, we’ll be fine.”

The girls finished their meal quickly, then both started squirming to get out. Sam graciously offered to take them into the family room to watch a Disney DVD before Jenny gave them their baths and put them to bed.

Soon, Jenny was alone in the kitchen with Ty, feeling like a tongue-tied teenager on a first date. Her appetite suddenly gone, she fidgeted on her chair, then suppressed a snort of disgust. She was sitting next to her employer, not a date, thank the Lord; the thought of dating, of opening herself up to be hurt again, struck absolute terror in her heart.

Pushing her half-eaten sandwich aside, she reiterated in her mind that Ty was nothing more than her boss. She would be pleasant and talkative enough to establish a cordial working relationship while keeping their conversation superficial. On the plus side, she might be able to ask Ty what had happened to Morgan’s mom, a detail she told herself she only needed to know for Morgan’s sake.

An awkward silence passed while she kept quiet and Ty built his third sandwich, which was piled high with meat loaf and cheese.

She raised a brow. “How many of those are you going to eat?”

“This’ll probably be it,” he said, holding up the fat sandwich. He nodded toward the tortilla chips. “I’ll fill up on those, too, then probably sneak down for a midnight snack.” He gave her a crooked grin, then leaned in close and whispered, “My dad still buys me the full-fat, very high cholesterol ice cream.”

Jenny had to smile, even though her stomach was doing flips from his sudden nearness. “This,” she said, gesturing to the food on the table, “isn’t enough for you, is it?”