Christmas With the Mustang Man (5 page)

This was not the way her trip was supposed to be going, she thought with a bit of desperation. She'd come here with plans to buy horses. Not to be trapped on a ranch with a man who was quickly and surely starting to consume her every thought.

She had to get a grip and remember that the only stud she was looking for was the four-legged kind. But each time her gaze rested on Boone she had difficulty remembering anything—except that she was a woman and he was one very unforgettable man.

And the night had only begun.

Chapter Three

“D
on't bother with that,” Boone said as she carried an armful of dishes across the room. “Hayley will deal with it later.”

“I don't mind,” she insisted. “It's the least I can do for you so graciously putting me up tonight.”

While the coffee brewed, Dallas scraped the dishes and stacked them to one side of the porcelain sink. Just to her right, Boone pulled a lid from a plastic container and placed several cookies on a paper plate.

For some reason, standing near him like this, doing domestic chores together, felt even more intimate than when he was showing her the bedroom. Although she tried to ignore it, her heart was going at a fast clip and she feared her cheeks were flushed with color.

“If you'd like, we can take this in the family room,” he suggested. “You can use the phone in there.”

Clearing her throat, she was quick to agree. “Sounds good to me.”

After he placed the coffee and the cookies on a plastic tray, she followed him out of the kitchen and down to the family room. As she took in the simply furnished area, she noticed a huge fireplace took up the major part of one wall. A warm welcoming fire would have gone a long way in brightening the room, but presently the hearth was cold and dark.

As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “I've cleared away most of the underbrush on the ranch and there's not much left to burn. To have a fire every evening, I'd have to drive up to Ely and buy firewood, so I've been rationing until my next trip.”

“And I'm sure it's expensive,” she stated.

“Very.”

He gestured to a long green sofa and matching armchair. “Have a seat anywhere you'd like. The phone is there at the end of the sofa.”

“Thanks.” She sank down on the sofa, then reached for the phone and directory resting beneath it.

After a quick explanation to the hotel clerk, Dallas placed the receiver back on its hook, then helped herself to the coffee and cookies that Boone had left on the table in front of her.

“If you need to call your family—or anyone—to let them know you arrived safely, please do.”

Dallas looked over to see he'd settled comfortably back in the chair and crossed his ankles out in front of him. The jeans covering his long, muscled legs were faded nearly white, the hems slightly frayed. His snub-toed cowboy boots had once been brown roughout leather, but were now smooth and dark from countless hours of wear. Dallas doubted he'd ever seen the inside of a department
store or mall and if he had, he'd gone there reluctantly. Still, he was the perfect image for a jeans commercial. An idea he'd no doubt laugh at, she thought.

“I called my family when I first arrived at Pioche. So they know I've made the trip safely. Right now I don't want to worry Liam needlessly about the truck. At least, not until I can give him an exact problem.”

Boone said, “I hope he wasn't planning on using the truck anytime soon.”

Dallas darted him a sharp glance. He made it sound like getting her vehicle running again was going to take days instead of hours. Oh, God, that couldn't happen. She couldn't spend days with this man. It would wreck her!

Trying not to think the worst, she replied, “Most of the tracks on the West Coast won't be having any major races to speak of until after the New Year. So my brother won't be doing much traveling. That's one of the reasons why I planned the trip for this month. Plus with Christmas coming up, many of my kids won't be visiting the stables. They're involved with family holiday things right now.”

From the moment she'd arrived on the ranch, Dallas had noticed there were no holiday decorations to be seen in or out of the Barnett house. Maybe they practiced some sort of religion that didn't celebrate Christmas, she thought, as she munched on an oatmeal-and-raisin cookie. But she seriously doubted that was the reason for the lack of festiveness. She was more inclined to think that Boone had forgotten how to celebrate anything.

“Are your stables closed while you're away?” he asked.

“No. My sister-in-law, Lass, is my assistant and she's keeping the place running for the few children who do show up.”

Earlier today, when Dallas had called home, her
mother had given her breaking family news that amounted to a double whammy. At breakfast this morning Lass and Brady had revealed they were expecting a second child and before they'd hardly gotten the words out of their mouths, Bridget and Johnny had announced their first child was on its way. In a few months two babies would be arriving in the Donovan family at the same time. Dallas was thrilled for her brother and her sister, yet somehow the news had left her feeling a bit melancholy. She was already thirty-two. Would there ever come a day, she wondered, when she would become a mother? It didn't seem likely. Not when the idea of giving her heart to another man made her want to turn tail and run.

Not wanting to dwell on that miserable thought, she turned her gaze back on Boone to see he was studying her with those dark, brooding eyes. Did he ever think about having a baby with another woman? The notion bothered her in more ways than she wanted to admit.

Swallowing to ease the tightness in her throat, she asked, “Do you have hired help on your ranch? Or do you do it all yourself?”

“I have a man who comes in three or four days a week to help with the ranch work. Depending on what's going on.”

On the opposite side of the room, directly across from the couch, there was a small television. Presently the screen was black, a status that didn't surprise Dallas. In fact, she couldn't imagine this rugged cowboy sitting down to watch a drama or sitcom. Maybe the news. But nothing for the sole purpose of entertainment.

She was still speculating as to what he'd consider entertainment when the telephone beside her suddenly rang.
The unexpected sound caused her to flinch and her head jerked toward the jangling instrument.

Making no move to answer it, he said, “Hayley will pick it up. It's usually for her, anyway. You know how it is with kids.”

There was that subject again. Kids, children, babies. Normally she didn't dwell on her single status. But something about Boone and his daughter, coupled with the news of Lass's and Bridget's pregnancies, had gotten to her, making her want to weep and scream at the same time.

Biting back a sigh, she gave him a wan smile. “I imagine you—”

Her comment was cut short as Hayley suddenly yelled from somewhere in the hallway. “Dad! It's for you! Can you pick up the phone?”

“Who's calling?”

The girl came trotting into the room, carrying a portable phone with her hand clamped tightly over the receiver. She started toward Boone, then stopped short when she spotted Dallas on the couch.

Her face a mixture of perplexed pleasure, she said, “Oh! Dallas! I thought you'd left.”

Dallas smiled at her. “I thought I was leaving, too. But my truck decided to call it quits.”

“Hayley, the phone. Who is it?”

Boone's question jerked the girl's attention back to her father. “It's Billy Hopper. Something about welding on the hay loader.”

“Excuse me, Dallas,” he said, then quickly rose to his feet, took the phone from Hayley and exited the room.

Once her father was out of sight, Hayley walked over to the sofa and sank onto the edge of the cushion next to Dallas.

“What are you gonna do now?” she asked curiously. “Is Dad gonna drive you to Pioche tonight?”

Dallas shook her head. “No. I'm going to stay here for the night. I hope you don't mind,” she added. “Your father assured me that you sometimes have guests on the ranch.”

Hayley's features suddenly perked with interest. “Uh—we've had a few, but they've all been old men. But…well…gosh, it'll be nice to have you stay!”

Dallas smiled with relief. “I'm glad you feel that way.”

Her eyes sparkling, Hayley scooted closer to Dallas. “Earlier, when you said goodbye I was wishing you could stay longer. I've never seen anybody as pretty as you. And I wanted to ask you what it's like where you live and things like that. Would you care to tell me?”

She'd never expected such an endearing reaction from Hayley. In fact, she'd thought the girl would probably resent the intrusion of having a guest in the house.

“Thank you for the compliment, Hayley, but I'm just average-looking. I have two sisters who are much prettier than I am.”

“Wow, you have two sisters?” she asked, then like a switch had been flipped, her expression turned glum. “I wish I had a sister or even a brother. But I guess all I'll ever have is just me.”

Dallas let out a silent groan. Babies. She just couldn't get away from the subject tonight.

“Your father is still young,” Dallas said with as much encouragement as she could muster. “He might marry again and have more children.”

Shaking her head, Hayley leaned toward Dallas and lowered her voice. “Dad wouldn't like it if he heard me talking about this kind of stuff. And I don't ever—but
you're a grown-up woman and I don't get to talk to anybody like you.”

Dallas was perplexed. “What about your friends? Surely they have mothers you can talk with?”

The girl wrinkled up her nose. “I don't trust any of them. They're all friends of my dad's and whatever I said might get back to him. And then I'd be grounded for weeks.”

“Oh. I see.” Dallas reached over and patted the girl's hand. “Well, for what it's worth, you can trust me. I'll keep our conversation in confidence.”

Sighing with relief, Hayley quickly leaned closer and lowered her voice another notch. “Well, the reason I don't think I'll ever get a brother or sister is 'cause Dad doesn't want to ever get married again. Because my mother was so awful. And he says that so many years would be between me and a little brother or sister that we most likely wouldn't be close. But I believe we would. Dad just uses that for an excuse. And it's a dumb one.”

Dallas ached for this young girl with sad brown eyes and a wish in her heart to belong to a whole family. “Do you see your mother often?”

Hayley shot her a puzzled, almost comical look. “Often? Shoot, I never see her. Dad says I was three the last time she came around. But I don't remember it.”

Dazed by what she was hearing, Dallas hardly knew how to respond to this girl who seemed so hungry for female guidance. “I'm sorry, Hayley. That must be rough.”

The girl shrugged one shoulder as though to say she wasn't bothered by the fact. But Dallas could see that being abandoned by her mother had obviously had a profound effect on the child.

Hayley said, “I don't sweat it that much. I mean, I
don't remember her, so there's not a lot for me to miss. Dad says she had psychological problems and had to live in a mental clinic for a while. Now I guess she's well enough. She's married to someone else. Once in a while I get a postcard from her. But that's about it.”

Oh, God, what kind of woman could simply walk away from her own daughter? A woman who had some sort of mental or emotional breakdown, Dallas realized. But if she'd gotten well enough to remarry, what was her reason for staying away from Hayley now? Boone? No. Dallas couldn't imagine him keeping his ex-wife away from their daughter just for spiteful reasons.

“So your mother didn't have any more children?” Dallas asked while trying to tell herself she wasn't prying. Hayley clearly needed to talk and it wasn't like Dallas was going to take the information and spread it.

Dropping her head in a guilty manner, Hayley mumbled, “No. Something happened after I was born and she couldn't have more kids. That's what my grandma Elsa told me once.” Turning a wistful expression on Dallas, she asked, “Do you have a nice mother?”

Hayley's ingenuous question caused tears to sting the back of Dallas's eyes. “Yes. She's a wonderful mother. Her name is Fiona. And my grandmother, Kate, lives with us, too. And I have three brothers, also.”

“Boy, your house must be full of people.”

“Most of the time it is.” Dallas reached for another cookie. “Your father said you baked these. They're delicious.”

Hayley shrugged again. “Cookies are no big deal. I've been making them for a long time. I'm learning to cook whole meals now. Dad says I'm doing good. But sometimes I burn things.”

At Hayley's age, Dallas had hated doing anything in
the kitchen, and she still wasn't all that good at putting a meal together. Clearly Hayley wasn't nearly as much of a tomboy as Dallas had been.

“You like to cook?” she asked the girl.

“Sure. There's not much else to do around here. And I like helping Dad. He works so hard. With the horses and all. And he never spends any money on himself. He's saving it all for me. So that I can go to college. I wish he wouldn't do that. But he won't listen to me,” she said, ending her declaration with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess dads are just like that.”

Yes, the good ones, Dallas thought. And she was beginning to see that Boone was one of the good ones. He might not understand all of Hayley's feminine needs, but he obviously was making sure her home and future were secure.

“My father worked hard and sacrificed for his children, too,” she told the girl.

“What does he do?”

“He's mostly retired now. But he raises Thoroughbred horses and races them. Do you know what they are?”

Her eyes suddenly glowing, Hayley bobbed her head and Dallas decided this was the first real excitement she'd seen on the girl's face.

“Oh, yeah! One time we went to Elko to the fair. They were having races and we went to the paddock and watched them saddle the Thoroughbreds. They were so big and beautiful and I told Dad we should get some. But he said we wouldn't have any use for those kinds of horses on the ranch. He said they were only for running fast.” Hayley gave her eyes an impatient roll. “He should know that some of us like to run fast just for the fun of it. Don't you?”

Other books

The Wrong Kind of Money by Birmingham, Stephen;
Coffin Road by Peter May
La llave maestra by Agustín Sánchez Vidal
Freeze by Pyle, Daniel
The Monster's Daughter by Michelle Pretorius
No Safe House by Linwood Barclay
The Little Things by Jane Costello
Rachel's Valentine Crush by Angela Darling