“I don’t regret it,” she said quietly. “I’m just a little embarrassed because—Oh, I don’t know why I—”

  When she didn’t continue, he gently squared her shoulders so that she was facing him. “I don’t know why you’d be embarrassed, Roslyn. Because it was nice. Very nice.”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed and for a moment Chandler thought she was about to cry. And he didn’t know what he’d do if a tear did roll down her cheek. Hate himself for the rest of his life, he supposed.

  Her eyes opened and he could see a look of wonder swimming in the brown depths. “But I kissed you like...well, you’re probably thinking I’m some sort of hussy or something. That it’s no wonder I’m pregnant out of wedlock.”

  If she hadn’t look so remorseful he would’ve laughed out loud. “Roslyn, you’re thinking is so off the mark it’s funny. But I’m not going to laugh. Because I can see that you’re serious and...oh, honey, you are so—” He cupped his hand to the side of her face and in that moment it felt as though his heart was about to burst with some strange, new emotion he’d never felt before. “You’re precious, Roslyn. You could never be a hussy.”

  “So you say. But I’m not going to pretend, Chandler. When I’m with you I’m really not myself.” She frowned. “I’m beginning to wonder if these last days of my pregnancy are doing something to my senses.”

  Smiling, he stroked the tip of his forefinger along the shell-pink color splashed across her cheekbone. “What’s my excuse? I’m the one who instigated the whole thing.”

  “You’re a man. You don’t need a reason to kiss a woman. Do you?”

  Her question caused the smile on his face to linger. “I always thought a reason was necessary. But in your case, just looking at you gives me a good enough reason.”

  Her nostrils flared as she drew in a deep breath and then she was pulling away and turning her back to him. “I’m eight months pregnant in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve noticed. A lot.” He stepped around to the front of her and laid a hand on the side of her belly. “You know, in my line of work I see pregnancy just about every day. Yes, I’m talking about animals now. But animal or human, it’s a wondrous and beautiful thing. If you’re thinking your thick waistline makes you any less desirable than the next woman, your thinking is all wrong.”

  Her eyes misted over and Chandler suddenly realized that she was far more to him than a pretty face with soft, kissable lips. But he could hardly admit the fact to himself, much less to her.

  “Chandler, I’m only going to be here for a few weeks. I don’t think it would be wise to let myself kiss you again.”

  Even though he understood that she was probably being practical and smart, her words left him flat. And somewhat surprised. Especially after the passionate way she’d responded to his kiss. But perhaps she was right about this last stage of her pregnancy affecting her senses. Under other circumstances she might not have been interested in kissing him in any form or fashion.

  After all, she was eleven years younger. He probably came across as an old man to her. Not a guy she’d want to start a relationship with.

  Relationship. Was that what he wanted with Roslyn? Something more than a few dates? Something that wouldn’t end with a kiss on the cheek and a relieved goodbye?

  The questions were bantering around in his brain when the movement of the baby rippled beneath his hand. The sensation waylaid his revolving thoughts and he looked at her with new appreciation.

  “The baby must be taking dance lessons. Right now I think she’s doing a tap number.”

  She smiled. “I’m beginning to think my child is going to be a dancer or some sort of athlete.”

  The night she’d fainted at the clinic and he’d listened to the baby’s heartbeat, he’d been in doctor mode. Only the health of the child had been in his thoughts. But everything was different now. Roslyn was swiftly becoming a part of his life, along with the baby. He didn’t know whether that was a good or bad thing. Either way, he couldn’t seem to stop his feelings from escalating.

  He smiled back at her. “Or a rancher, schoolteacher, doctor—anything he or she wants to be,” he suggested.

  She pressed a hand over his and the contact reminded him that the baby had veered their conversation on a different path. With the ranch hands likely to arrive any moment, he wanted to get back to what had just happened between them.

  “About the kiss, Roslyn. I think we were both enjoying it. And I don’t think it would be unwise for me to kiss you again. Or for you to kiss me. If that’s what we both wanted,” he added slyly.

  For a moment she looked ready to argue the point, but then her lips pressed together and created an impish dimple in her left cheek. “Chandler, I’m beginning to think your nickname should be Naughty Doc rather than just Doc.”

  In the time it took blink his eyes, she’d chosen to make light of the whole thing. Which was probably best for both of them, Chandler decided. He shouldn’t want to make an issue over one little kiss. Trouble was for Chandler, it had been far more than just one little kiss.

  He coughed up a chuckle and hoped it sounded authentic. Behind them, the rattle of a fast-approaching stock trailer signaled the arrival of the ranch hands.

  “The cowboys are here,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “Yeah. I’d better get over to the herd.”

  “I’ll wait here,” she informed him. “I don’t want to get in the way and be a nuisance.”

  A nuisance? Never, he thought, as he walked briskly out to join the men. But she was definitely a lovely temptation. One that he damn well needed to resist. Otherwise, when she left Three Rivers, she was liable to take his heart with her.

  Chapter Seven

  Two days later, Chandler showed up halfway through the evening meal. As he took a seat next to Roslyn, she noticed his damp black hair had been combed back from his face and the tails of a white shirt tucked haphazardly into his jeans. He looked even more fatigued than usual and Roslyn was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to wrap her arms around him.

  “Sorry, everyone, for being late,” he apologized. “Things got hectic at the clinic.”

  Blake passed a platter of what was left of the fried chicken down the table to Chandler. “Things are always hectic at the clinic,” Blake said with an edge of impatience. “I don’t know when you’re going to break down and hire more help. Specifically another vet to handle the patients you don’t have time for.”

  Chandler forked two pieces of chicken onto his plate, then reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes. “I specifically don’t want another vet,” he replied to his brother’s comment. “I might not like the way he does things. And I sure as hell don’t want the clinic’s reputation ruined by an outside quack.”

  “Wow, Chandler, who put a burr under your saddle?” Holt asked from his seat across the table.

  Roslyn had been wondering the same thing. She’d never seen Chandler show this much frustration before.

  “You two, leave your brother alone,” Maureen said to Blake and Holt. “Can’t you see he’s stressed?”

  Holt snickered. “Stressed. Chandler needs to try climbing on a bunch of two-year-olds and he’ll learn what stress really is. That’s after his ass hits the ground a few times.”

  Roslyn watched a muscle jump in Chandler’s jaw, but he refrained from making a retort.

  Down the table, Maureen glared at her younger son, while Blake shook his head. “Ease up, Holt. You know good and well that our brother puts in far too many hours working.”

  “I don’t want anyone’s sympathy.” Chandler’s voice was gruff, and his eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. “What I need is more help at the clinic. And not another vet,” he said to Blake. “Cybil’s sister had some sort of accident and hurt her back. The past few days she’s been taking off to help care for her sister’s kids.”

  Holt slapped a hand on the tabletop. “I got it, brother! Why don’t you let Roslyn help you out? I’m sure she’d love dealing with the small animals.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Holt,” Maureen said, then directed an encouraging smile at Roslyn. “What do you say, Ros? Have you ever spent any time at an animal clinic?”

  Roslyn wondered how the conversation had moved so quickly to include her. “Um, no. I haven’t,” she answered Maureen. “Other than recuperating in Chandler’s office the night I fainted. But I’d be willing to learn.”

  Judging from the glower on Chandler’s face, he wanted miles and miles separating her from his animal clinic.

  He slanted a rueful glance at her. “I don’t think that would be wise, Roslyn. You’d have to be on your feet. And you’d have to avoid the cat litter. And—”

  “Chandler, quit being a stuffed shirt,” Maureen interrupted. “Roslyn is young and healthy. Lots of women work on their feet right up until they give birth. Why, when I was pregnant with you kids I was riding up until my seventh month and helping in the branding pen up until my due date. Roslyn is a woman who’s going to have a baby. Not a piece of porcelain you have to keep safely on a shelf.”

  “Maureen is right,” Roslyn told him. “I’m not a weakling. In fact, the exercise will be good for me. And helping out at the clinic would make me feel productive instead of like a sponge.”

  Unconvinced, he said, “You don’t know the first thing about animals.”

  “Well, I can always fetch things for you and clean up,” she argued. “That should help a little. And I can learn the rest as I go.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Holt said with a grin, then asked shrewdly, “Or are you afraid the place will run over with guys wanting to get a look at your pretty assistant?”

  “Blake, would you please stuff a chicken leg in Holt’s mouth?” Maureen said. “Anything to shut him up.”

  Holt laughed. “Oh, Mom, you know I’m only teasing Chandler. He’d think I was sick if I didn’t give him a hard time.”

  Maureen drained her wineglass, then reached for the tall, dark bottle sitting near her elbow. Roslyn had never seen the woman refill her glass at dinner, but maybe the trip she’d made to Phoenix this morning had made the day extra taxing for her.

  “Yes, you’re always teasing, Holt. But instead of telling Chandler what he ought to be doing, why don’t you tell us what you have been doing—with the horses. I had a long conversation today with the foreman of the Tumbleweed Ranch in Nevada. They’re wanting twenty head of our mares and ten yearlings.”

  “Twenty head of mares?” Holt guffawed. “Over my dead body. They’re the lifeblood of our remuda. And we’ve never sold a yearling off this ranch before. Each one has a chance to prove himself worthy of a lifetime home here on Three Rivers. Surely you set him straight on all of that, didn’t you?”

  From the corner of her eye, Roslyn noticed Chandler was carefully watching his mother’s reaction.

  “No. I told him we might be able to come up with half that number,” Maureen quipped, then took another long sip of wine. “But I did explain that he’d need to talk with you and Blake before a deal could be made.”

  Holt’s mouth dropped open and for a split second Roslyn thought the man was going to curse a blue streak in front of his mother and everyone else. But just as quickly, his jaw snapped shut and he directed a dark stare at Blake.

  Blake slanted their mother an annoyed look, before turning his gaze back to his younger brother. “Don’t worry, Holt. I’ll give the foreman a call and explain to him that our number of broodmares is exactly where we want it to be. And the yearlings are off-limits.”

  After Blake’s words trailed away, no one else made any kind of remark about the horses. And for the first time since Roslyn had come to the ranch, the atmosphere around the Hollister dinner table felt strained.

  The remainder of the meal passed in silence and afterward, Roslyn chose to skip dessert in the den. Instead, she carried a cup of coffee to the front porch, where she could watch the last streaks of red-gold sunlight sink below a row of desert hills.

  “Care if I join you?”

  Roslyn glanced around to see Chandler stepping onto the porch and closing the door behind him.

  “You’re very welcome to join me,” she told him. “It’s a beautiful evening out here.”

  He walked over to where she stood resting a shoulder against one of the porch post.

  “And as awkward as hell inside,” he added wryly. “Sorry about all that at the dinner table, Roslyn. I hope you know it’s nothing about you. Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves.”

  She turned so that she was facing him. “From what I’ve gathered since I’ve been here, Holt is very particular about the horses. I got the impression he was more than a little vexed with your mother when she mentioned selling a few.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Long before Dad died, he appointed Holt manager of the horse division. And rightly so. He knows equines inside and out. And to tell you the truth, he can probably doctor them as good, or better than I can. He loves each and every baby he raises like his own child, and he only sells the ones that end up unable to handle the rigors of ranch work. Holt always has the final say so over the horses. That’s why...it seemed a little peculiar to us brothers that Mom didn’t set the Nevada rancher straight, right off. And for her to imply we might sell ten mares and five yearlings—it’s worrisome, Roslyn. She’s not herself.”

  Could be he was also thinking his mother had been amiss when she’d agreed with the suggestion of Roslyn working at the clinic. She hoped not. The idea of working with Chandler and his staff was very appealing. True, it would allow her to spend more time in his company, but it would also give her a real purpose until the baby arrived.

  She said, “Maureen was gone to Phoenix for most of the day today—to a cattle-buyers meeting. I’m sure she’s tired.”

  He frowned. “Hmm. She’s gone to Phoenix several times in the past few months. I wasn’t aware she was going again today.”

  “I heard her telling Reeva that she’d decided at the last minute to go.” She darted a glance at him. “And now you’re going to think I go around the house eavesdropping on conversations.”

  Smiling wanly, he touched a forefinger to the tip of her nose. “Your nose is too little to make you a busybody. But let’s forget about Mom for now. We need to discuss this matter about you and the clinic. Let’s go sit,” he suggested.

  With his hand against the small of her back, he guided her over to a wicker love seat padded with striped cushions. The touch of his hand was warm and instantly reminded her of the kiss they’d shared out on the range.

  That kiss. She’d never experienced anything like it before. Even now, the memory of the embrace heated her cheeks and twisted knots in the pit of her stomach. Kissing Chandler had been like downing a shot of straight whiskey—wickedly hot and instantly intoxicating. These past couple of days, she’d been desperately trying to get the whole incident out of her mind. But rather than forgetting, her thoughts had been stuck on that kiss. And him.

  “Look, Chandler, I’m sorry your mother and brother put you on the spot about me working at the clinic. If you’re afraid I’ll be in the way, I’ll understand.”

  “I never said I thought you’d be in the way.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t have to. I could see misgivings on your face. But that’s okay. You and your family have already done so much for me. You hardly need to give me a job.”

  He reached for her hand and she gladly allowed him to fold her fingers inside his big warm palm.

  “My reservations have nothing to do with you getting underfoot. If that was the case I would’ve fired Trey a year ago. I’m more concerned about your health and the baby’s.”

  “Well, if I start getting weary, I can always sit down and put up my feet. You see, I know the boss,” she added impishly. “He won’t mind.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I see—you’re already expecting favoritism.”

  She chuckled. “Just a little.”

  “Well, you’d have to drive yourself back and forth to the clinic. Riding with me is out of the question. Some days I might be leaving at four thirty in the morning and not returning until midnight.”

  “That’s no problem. If the ranch has an extra vehicle I can use, I know how to drive,” she reasoned.

  He squeezed her fingers. “Just the drive here and back might be tiring for you.”

  “Oh, Chandler, I’m not that fragile. Really. And it would make me feel good to be able to do something for you—to take some of the work off your shoulders.”

  As he studied her face, she couldn’t help notice how the last rays of sunlight were touching his face, illuminating the black whiskers that had emerged above his dark skin. Just thinking about touching her lips to his jaw and experiencing the raspy sensation against the tip of her tongue was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

  “You mean that, don’t you?”

  Her gaze met his and she wondered if he could see the feelings that were billowing up inside of her, making her ache to touch him.

  “I do,” she said simply.

  His eyes remained connected to hers for another long moment before he finally looked away. “I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do. But I can see the whole thing is important to you.”

  “It’s very important, Chandler. When I leave here with my baby I’m eventually going to have to find a job. I want to be able to tell an employer that I’ve worked for a few days in my life, at least. But more than that, I need to prove to myself that I can contribute.”

  “You’ve already told me that you did volunteer work back in Fort Worth. Obviously you can contribute to a cause.”

 

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