Cowboy's Kiss (12 page)

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Ally chanted with each furl, her heart in her throat.

Finally Jackson stopped, checked to make sure the little girl's clothing was no longer burning before he stood her up in a hurry and pulled the shirt off with one quick swipe.

Ally reached them at that moment, just in time to hear Meggie say, “I just wanted to help so everything didn't burn down like Hans said it would.”

“Are you hurt?” Ally asked, frantically joining Jackson in the search of her daughter's body for signs of it.

“I think it was just my shirt. I'm okay.”

And she was, too. Luckily her shorts had been between the T-shirt and her body and Jackson's fast action had kept the fire from getting past that barrier.

“We aren't going to let anything burn down, Meggie. It's better if you don't help. Just stay back away from it,” Jackson said then, firmly but without anger before he ran for the grass fire again.

But Ally didn't rush back with him. She couldn't. Instead she knelt down in front of her daughter and took a second, closer look to make sure Meggie really was all right. Then she wrapped her arms around the little girl and held on tight as her heartbeat raced and she fought back the terror that had surged through her.

“Damn it, Ally, get over here. We need help!” Jackson shouted.

If he hadn't been the person who had just saved Meggie from harm, Ally might have ignored him. She might have followed her own instinct at that moment, picked up her daughter and gotten them both as far away from that fire as she could.

But that wasn't what she did.

Shaken to the core, she nevertheless let go of her hold on Meggie and turned her toward the house. “I don't want you anywhere near here. You wait inside,” she said, giving her a slight push and making sure the little girl was on her way before she turned back to the fire that was finally coming under control.

* * *

Ally was still on edge even after the fire was out, water was thrown on the singed ground from buckets everyone hauled, and Jackson had said only a curt “You're out of here, Jordy,” to the ranch hand.

Back at the house she checked on Meggie, had her undress completely, and let her put on clean clothes only when she was once again satisfied that the little girl hadn't been burned anywhere.

Then she went back to the kitchen, made a new batch of pancake batter and scorched the first few in her preoccupation.

But Jackson had the cure for lingering tension over the near-miss accident.

Work.

And lots of it.

Ally was just grateful that it was all close to home so she could keep her daughter within sight and reassure herself Meggie was really okay every time a shiver of fear at what might have happened ran up her spine.

Shoveling horse manure out of the barn was the first order of business when they finally got going. Twenty-four stalls had to be mucked out and then hosed down.

The horseflies were worse around the manure than they had been out in the wide-open spaces the day before and they seemed to feast on Ally, who had to stop every other minute to brush one away.

And the smell really got to her. She had missed dinner the night before and, after the fire fright, hadn't had an appetite for breakfast, so the pungent odor of fresh manure in the hot space turned her empty stomach. Plus the shovel handle ate into her blistered palms and turned them to welts that increased the agony of each hour.

But, outside, her daughter sang silly songs with Hans as the two of them painted the paddock fence and Ally tried hard to ignore her own agony.

It was also nice to have lunch with Meggie. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches and macaroni salad Marta had made for them all, but everyone gathered around the picnic tables on the patio, the conversation was lively, and most of the attention revolved around Meggie, who delighted in it.

What the afternoon made up for in odor it lost as a backbreaker. Jackson, Hans and Ally stacked forty-pound hay bales in a lean-to behind the barn. The hay itself was sweet smelling, but the work was hard as Ally handed each bale to Hans, who handed it to Jackson where he stood halfway up a stair step of the things.

Even when Ally was ready to drop and eyeing the swimming pool with longing in her heart, Jackson sent her to dig potatoes. On her hands and knees. In the late-day sun.

How long was this slave driving going to keep up? she wondered, feeling irritable.

Did Jackson mean for her to work like this every day for the rest of her life? Because she wasn't going to do it.

Sure she wanted to contribute, to do her share, but this was ridiculous. Housecleaning, cooking, even doing his laundry, seemed reasonable enough. Some gardening, some small chores close to home, maybe. Canning, preserving, drying food for winter. But she was doing the work of a full-time, hard-core ranch hand and it was killing her. And she didn't believe that was what Shag had intended when he'd urged her to come here and bequeathed a portion of this place to her.

So what was she going to do about it? she asked herself.

She could confront Jackson head-on. Refuse to cooperate in any more of this gamut he was having her run. Tell him straight out that there was no stipulation that she owed him this kind of work in order to accept her part of the inheritance.

And she knew just what his reaction would be.

He'd goad her. He'd say she wanted to lounge around while he worked his fingers to the bone as if he owed it to her. He'd say if she couldn't earn her keep, she had no business being here. That she'd better sell and get out.

He'd sneer. He'd snarl. He'd say he knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. And then he'd be miserable to live with.

And she'd have to face him every day knowing she'd given in. That he'd beaten her. That he'd won, that even if she didn't let him buy her out he would have proven that she really didn't belong here, that she was a freeloader.

Blisters, welts, sore muscles, abused flesh, horsefly bites and stench were better than that, she decided.

At least for a little while longer.

For a little while longer she'd go along with this, work like a dog and keep her mouth shut.

Maybe eventually he'd see that this tactic wasn't going to drive her away—which she had no doubt was his intention. And then maybe he'd ease up. Maybe he'd accept that she and Meggie were here permanently and he'd get used to it.

Then, maybe they could come to a more reasonable division of labor.

One that would keep Ally removed from Jackson.

And maybe, if they didn't spend so much time together, she wouldn't be so aware of every bulge of every muscle. Of every flex of every magnificent sinew. Or every nuance in that deep, rich voice.

Then maybe, too, things like that kiss the night before wouldn't happen....

A soft rattling sound distracted her from her thoughts just then. Like a baby's rattle, only more subtle. More efficient.

Ally sat back on her heels and looked around her. But she was the only person within fifty feet. Jackson and Hans were discussing something over near the barn and Meggie had gone with Marta to a pond somewhere on the property to pick cattails.

When the sound came again—closer than before—she shifted her gaze to the ground just in time to see a snake slither down one of the holes left by a potato she'd dug and then up the one next to it.

Without considering the wisdom of quick movement, she jumped to her feet and ran like crazy for the two men.

“Who lit dynamite under you?” Jackson asked before she could get her throat to work.

“Snake!” was all she could manage to say when she did.
“Rattlesnake!”

Both men eyed her as if she'd lost her mind and took a placid glance in the direction of the garden.

“You want this one or shall I take it?” Hans asked.

“Go ahead,” Jackson answered.

“It's a
rattlesnake,
“ Ally reiterated as if they might not have understood.

But still neither man seemed concerned.

Hans pushed off the paddock fence he'd been leaning against and sauntered carelessly in the direction from which she'd just come as Jackson said, “Prairie rattler. They're all over.” Then he nodded at the garden patch. “Hans has ‘im.”

Ally couldn't help turning around and looking just as the older man yanked up on the thing then snapped it against the ground, literally knocking its head off.

“Oooh,” she moaned in a revolted grimace, squinting her eyes against the sight and backing up far enough to make her bump right into Jackson.

His big hands came to her shoulders to steady her as his laugh sent the heat of his breath into her hair. But whether he was laughing at her or what Hans had just done, she didn't know, because he called, “Good one,” to the older man as if he'd enjoyed the spectacle.

Then, to make matters worse, Hans took out his pocketknife, cut off the rattle and, after tossing the body and head into the trash bag Ally had been putting plant debris into, he brought it to them.

“Bet Meggie would like to have this.”

“Wouldn't every girl?” Ally muttered under her breath, wondering if Jackson's scorn might be a whole lot more palatable than that snake rattle.

But she didn't have much time to actually consider it, because just then Ash came running toward them, looking as panicked as Ally imagined she had moments earlier fleeing from the snake.

“We're in trouble!” he shouted even before he reached them.

Jackson's hands were still on Ally's shoulders and they tightened reflexively. But he still didn't let go of her and, deep down, Ally experienced an unwanted pleasure at his touch.

“The baby's coming!” Ash announced as he stopped in front of them, going on to a flood of words. “And I mean it's coming right
now!
Beth's been having what we thought were those practice contractions but I guess they weren't just practice, because she's already having trouble keeping herself from pushing and the damn doctor went fishing way out at Snow Lake and even though his office got hold of him on his cellular phone he can't make it back for at least half an hour and Beth says it isn't going to take that long and please tell me somebody around here knows something about delivering more than a calf or a foal!”

“I do.”

Hans looked at Ally curiously. From behind her, sounding incredulous, Jackson said, “
You
do? What are you talking about?”

“I can deliver a baby,” she told them all. “Believe it or not, it's something I know a lot about.”

“Ally—”

“I'm serious,” she said forcefully, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Just because you're a woman and you've had a child yourself—”

“That is not the reason I can do it. And if Ash is right and the baby is that close to being born, we don't have time to argue about it.”

Jackson turned her around to face him and frowned at her as if to shame her into telling the truth.

She answered that frown in no uncertain terms. “I may be lousy at ranch work and think snakes are not a whole lot of fun, but that doesn't mean I can't do anything else in life. And delivering a baby just happens to be one of the things I
can
do,” she said, enjoying turning the tables for once.

“We're desperate, Jackson,” Ash said, sounding it.

Jackson stared at her another moment and then finally released her from his grip. He didn't say anything, but his expression nearly shouted that he still wasn't convinced.

Ally didn't wait around to reassure him. She said, “Let's go,” and headed for the renovated bunkhouse, leaving Hans behind and paying little attention to Jackson and Ash, who followed her like ducklings after their mother.

At the bunkhouse Ally sent Ash to be with Beth and put Jackson to work finding a bottle of alcohol, some clean sheets and towels, and sterilizing scissors. While he was at it, she thoroughly scrubbed her hands and forearms and then had him pour the alcohol over them.

It seemed strange that she was now in charge and giving the orders for a change. Jackson watched her as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, but she ignored his doubts and simply said, “Looks like when excitement happens around here it comes in threes.”

He didn't comment on that. Instead he said, “The doctor's office will have alerted the hospital to send their helicopter. Do what you can to wait for them.”

Just then, as if in answer, a moan came from upstairs.

“Doesn't sound like there's going to be any waiting going on,” she said, holding her hands in the air like a surgeon to let them dry.

But still he wasn't confident in her. “I've helped in the birthing of the animals around here. If you aren't damn sure you know what you're doing, you better let me see to this.”

She looked him straight in the eye and said, “I'm damn sure I know what I'm doing.”

Then she led the way to the bedroom upstairs where Beth was laboring.

Ash met them at the door, taking from Jackson all Ally had had him accumulate, and then she and Ash left him standing in the hallway.

“I'll be right out here if you need me,” he called after them.

But Ally ignored him. For one of the few times since she'd arrived here, she was in an element that was more nearly her own.

“It's coming!” Beth announced in greeting the moment Ally was in the room.

Ally asked Ash to bring a chair for her to sit on at the foot of the bed and then sent him to hold his wife's hand.

“Not only is this baby arriving a few weeks early, it's not even going to wait for the doctor, is it?” Ally joked to lighten the tension in the room.

But Beth was in no condition for it. “I have to push!”

Ally took a quick look and said, “You're right, you do. It's already crowning with a full head of Dad's black hair.” And then she got down to business. “Now here's what we need to do....”