Diana Palmer Christmas Collection: The Rancher / Christmas Cowboy / A Man of Means / True Blue / Carrera's Bride / Will of Steel / Winter Roses

“Yes.” She swallowed, tried to hide her blush and opened the front door.

Chapter Three (#ulink_ea59525d-d6ad-50e2-be3e-a39dd92d3dc8)

Maddie couldn’t help but stare at Cort as he leaned over the desk to read the last page of her father’s breeding journal. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And that physique! He was long and lean, but also muscular. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and in the opening of his chambray shirt, thick curling black hair peeked out.

She’d never been overly interested in intimacy. Never having indulged, she had no idea how it felt, although she’d been reading romance novels since her early teens. She did know how things worked between men and women from health class. What she didn’t know was why women gave in to men. She supposed it came naturally.

Cort felt her eyes on him and turned, so that he was looking directly into her wide, shocked gray eyes. His own dark ones narrowed. He knew that look, that expression. She was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t fooled.

“Take a picture,” he drawled, because her interest irritated him. She wasn’t his type. Not at all.

Her reaction shamed him. She looked away, cleared her throat and went beet-red. “Sorry,” she choked. “I was just thinking. You were sort of in the way. I was thinking about my fairies…”

He felt guilty. That made him even more irritable. “What fairies?”

She stumbled and had to catch herself as she went past him. She was so embarrassed she could hardly even walk.

She went to the shelf where she’d put the newest one. Taking it down very carefully, she carried it to the desk and put it in front of him.

He caught his breath. He picked it up, delicately for a man with such large, strong hands, and held it up to his eyes. He turned it. He was smiling. “This is really beautiful,” he said, as if it surprised him. He glanced at her. “You did this by yourself?”

She moved uneasily. “Yes,” she muttered. What did he think—that she had somebody come in and do the work so she could claim credit for it?

“I didn’t mean it like that, Maddie,” he said gently. The sound of her name on his lips made her tingle. She didn’t dare look up, because her attraction to him would surely show. He knew a lot more about women than she knew about men. He could probably tell already that she liked him. It had made him mad. So she’d have to hide it.

“Okay,” she said. But she still wouldn’t look up.

He gave the beautiful little statuette another look before he put it down very gently on the desk. “You should be marketing those,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen things half as lovely sell for thousands of dollars.”

“Thousands?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. Sometimes five figures. I was staying at a hotel in Arizona during a cattlemen’s conference and a doll show was exhibiting at the same hotel. I talked to some of the artists.” He shook his head. “It’s amazing how much collectors will pay for stuff like that.” He indicated the fairy with his head. “You should look into it.”

She was stunned. “I never dreamed people would pay so much for a little sculpture.”

“Your paintings are nice, too,” he admitted. “My mother loves the drawing you did. She bought it at that art show last year. She said you should be selling the sculptures, too.”

“I would. It’s just that they’re like my children,” she confessed, and flushed because that sounded nutty. “I mean…well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Each one is unique and you put a lot of yourself into it,” he guessed. “So it would be hard to sell one.”

“Yes.” She did look up then, surprised that he was so perceptive.

“You have the talent. All you need is the drive.”

“Drive.” She sighed. She smiled faintly. “How about imminent starvation? Does that work for drive?”

He laughed. “We wouldn’t let you starve. Your bull calves are too valuable to us,” he added, just when she thought he might actually care.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. “In that journal of Dad’s—” she changed the subject “—he talks about heritability traits for lean meat with marbling to produce cuts that health-conscious consumers will buy. Can you explain to me how I go about producing herd sires that carry the traits we breed for?”

He smiled. “It’s complicated. Want to take notes?”

She sighed. “Just like going back to school.” Then she remembered school, and the agonies she went through in her junior and senior years because of Odalie Everett, and her face clenched.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

She swallowed. She almost said what was wrong. But she’d been down that road with him already, making comments she shouldn’t have made about Odalie. She wasn’t going to make him mad. Not now, when he was being pleasant and helpful.

“Nothing. Just a stray thought.” She smiled. “I’ll get some paper and a pencil.”

After a half hour she put down the pencil. “It’s got to be like learning to speak Martian,” she muttered.

He laughed out loud. “Listen, I didn’t come into the world knowing how this stuff worked, either. I had to learn it, and if my dad hadn’t been a patient man, I’d have jumped off a cliff.”

“Your dad is patient?” she asked, and couldn’t help sounding surprised.

“I know he’s got a reputation for being just the opposite. But he really is patient. I had a hard time with algebra in high school. He’d take me into the office every night and go over problems with me until I understood how to do them. He never fussed, or yelled, or raised his voice. And I was a problem child.” He shook his head. “I’m amazed I got through my childhood in one piece. I’ve broken half the bones in my body at some point, and I know my mother’s gray hairs are all because of me. Morie was a little lady. She never caused anybody any trouble.”

“I remember,” Maddie said with a smile. “She was always kind to me. She was a couple of years ahead of me, but she was never snobby.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “There’s a hidden comment in there.”

She flushed. “I didn’t mention anybody else.”

“You meant Odalie,” he said. “She can’t help being beautiful and rich and talented,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t her fault that her parents put her in public school instead of private school, where she might have been better treated.”

“Better treated.” She glared at him. “Not one teacher or administrator ever had a bad word to say about her, even though she bullied younger girls mercilessly and spent most of her time bad-mouthing people she didn’t like. One year she had a party for our whole class, at the ranch. She invited every single girl in the class—except me.”

Cort’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”

“My father went to see her father, that’s how unintentional it was,” she replied quietly. “When Cole Everett knew what she’d done to me, he grounded her for a month and took away her end-of-school trip as punishment.”

“That seems extreme for not inviting someone to a party,” he scoffed.

“I guess that’s because you don’t know about the other things she did to me,” she replied.

“Let me guess—she didn’t send you a Valentine’s Day card, either,” he drawled in a tone that dripped sarcasm.

She looked at him with open sadness. “Sure. That’s it. I held a grudge because she didn’t send me a holiday card and my father went to see the school principal and Odalie’s father because he liked starting trouble.”

Cort remembered her father. He was the mildest, most forgiving man anywhere around Branntville. He’d walk away from a fight if he could. The very fact that he got involved meant that he felt there was more than a slight problem.

But Cort loved Odalie, and here was this badtempered little frump making cracks about her, probably because she was jealous.

“I guess if you don’t have a real talent and you aren’t as pretty, it’s hard to get along with someone who has it all,” he commented.

Her face went beet-red. She stood up, took her father’s journal, closed it and put it back in the desk drawer. She faced him across the width of the desk.