In a Cowboy's Arms

She let out a breath of sheer relief. Thank heaven Mr. McCall hadn’t exaggerated about the safeness of the ranch when she’d grilled him on that subject over the phone at the time he’d offered her this job as a nanny/nurse to his nineteen-month-old diabetic daughter. This place looked like a relatively protected spot to raise Ava, one of Jenny’s top priorities.

After losing Jack, she would do everything in her power to keep her daughter safe.

A few moments later, a tall man with a full head of gray hair dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans answered the door. “You must be Jenny and Ava,” he said, holding out a hand, a smile creasing his weathered face. His blue eyes sparkled in a friendly way that reminded Jenny of her dad, reassuring her further.

Jenny shook his hand. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Sam McCall, Ty’s dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

He nodded. “Likewise. Hope your trip was okay.” He gestured her into the house. “I’ll ask Dusty to unload your things in a bit.”

“The trip was just fine, thanks.” She followed Sam past a living room decorated in muted blue and beige, then through a kitchen complete with red-and-white gingham curtains and oak cabinets. They ended up in a cozy family room with an inviting plaid couch and a large TV occupying a corner bookcase on the far wall.

Before she could speak, a man’s voice rang through the room. “Better come quick, Sam. He’s done it again.”

Jenny turned her attention to the short young man with a dark mustache who’d poked his head through the open back door of the McCall’s family room.

Sam sighed. “What happened this time, Dusty?”

“Calf kicked him in the face, split his eyebrow clean open,” Dusty said.

Jenny widened her eyes. “Who’s hurt?” she asked, looking between Sam and the young man.

“Oh, it’s that fool son of mine.” Sam swung his gaze to Dusty. “I’ll be right there.”

Dusty nodded, then pulled the door shut.

“Does your son hurt himself a lot?” Jenny asked, furrowing her brow, mild concern trickling through her.

“Well, yeah,” Sam said, shrugging.

At Jenny’s look of horror, he quickly added, “But not because he’s clumsy or anything. He’s just gotta do all the dangerous jobs around here himself.” He held up a hand. “I’m sorry to desert you like this, but I’ll have to go check on Ty. Would you mind—?”

A deep, smooth male voice interrupted Sam. “Dad, I’m fine. You don’t have to check on me at all.”

A hot chill ran up Jenny’s spine. Her heart suddenly pounding in a way that made absolutely no sense at all, she turned around to look in the direction of that captivating, totally masculine voice.

Standing in the back door was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Even though his eyebrow was split and bleeding, his blue eyes, mussed short blond hair, and tall muscular build shown off by his shockingly tight jeans, called to every shred of feminine appreciation in her. Quite frankly, she’d thought that part of her had died with Jack.

The man stared at her for a long moment, his chin pulled in, then quickly gave her a lopsided smile. “Uh…You must be Jenny. Glad you made it safely.” He gestured to his cut face. “Sorry for the blood.”

She cleared her throat, trying to ignore his blinding smile and rugged good looks. The medical professional in her coming to life, thank goodness, she shifted into nurse mode, raised her chin and said, “No problem. Why don’t you come in and I’ll take a look at that cut.”

Nodding, he stepped into the house, holding up a bright orange-colored first-aid kit. “I knew having a nurse around would come in handy.”

Jenny did her best not to stare, remembering that she’d come to the remote Second Chance Ranch in eastern Oregon to work as a nanny, not find a man—the last thing she ever wanted again. Although, she had to admit with a trace of guilt, the urge to take inventory of his best features, an easy task on this one, was strong.

Shaking her head, she refocused her attention on taking care of his cut, glad Ava was happily “cooking” at the adorable play kitchen in the corner and was oblivious to Ty’s bloody face. While Jenny admitted in some far corner of her brain it was a relief to discover Jack’s death hadn’t dried her out completely, it just wouldn’t do to ogle Ty McCall.

As Ty walked by, averting his bloody cheek from Ava, Jenny got a closer look at his injury. An inch-long vertical cut on one of his thick, dark-blond eyebrows marred his gorgeous face. She’d have to butterfly it for sure. He might even need stitches.

Sam offered to stay in the family room with Ava. Jenny thanked him, and as she followed Ty into the kitchen, one bothersome thought occurred to her, sending a shot of cold apprehension down her spine. She’d only been here ten minutes and an injury already demanded her attention. While she was pleased to be able to put her nursing skills to use, honoring her family legacy as she’d always dreamed of doing, Ty McCall’s mangled face told her that this place wasn’t nearly as unthreatening as she’d thought when she’d arrived and assessed the property and house.

Would Ava be safe here?

A tight knot formed in her chest. Ty’s injury spooked her.

For the first time since she’d accepted his offer, she wondered if maybe she’d made a huge mistake by leaving her old life behind to come here.

Just great, Ty thought, dropping into one of the wooden kitchen chairs with a heavy breath. Wouldn’t you know that Morgan’s new nanny would turn out to be one beautiful woman with eyes the color of a stormy ocean and enough curves to tempt any man into purgatory. Jenny Brewster sure wasn’t the bookish nurse-type he’d expected.

As she looked through the first-aid kit, he glanced at her firm little rear end, shown off by her snug jeans. Okay, so he’d made a tactical error assuming Jenny would be a studious bookworm like her brother Connor.

An image of Andrea popped into his brain. She’d hated living here. Why would a beautiful young woman like Jenny want to move clear out to the boonies, with little or no chance for a social life—a blessing for him but often a curse to others?

He snagged a glance at Jenny, regretting his assumptions about her, then immediately revised that. So she was a good-looking woman. Big deal. His daughter needed Jenny more than he needed a plain woman he wouldn’t be drawn to. Morgan’s health and well-being were his first, and only, priority.

And that was why he’d called Connor Forbes, M.D., Jenny’s brother and his own former college chum, looking for a nurse who would be willing to move to the middle of nowhere in eastern Oregon. The distance the paramedics would have to travel if Morgan had another low-blood-sugar episode had scared him enough to make a change and employ a full-time nanny who could double as a nurse. Luckily, Jenny had jumped at the chance to move out here.

She was here now, an answer to his prayers. He’d simply welcome her and establish himself as her new boss while having his cut taken care of. Of course, he’d keep things business only.

He could do that. No problem.

Jenny turned around, her mouth pressed into an uncomfortable-looking smile. “Okay,” she said, moving closer. “Let’s have a look at that cut.”

He took a deep breath and reminded himself how important it was to ignore how pretty Jenny was. No way was he ever going to let himself be knifed in the heart by a woman again.

Jenny moved closer, bringing with her heat and the delicate scent of lemons, which he doggedly tried to ignore. Still, he couldn’t help but notice in a far corner of his brain how good she smelled. It had been a long, long time since he’d been this close to a woman. That was the way things had to be given he lived like a damn monk to protect himself and his daughter from another loss.

Jenny stopped in front of him, reaching out. “I’m going to take a look, then I’ll clean the cut and see if you need stitches.” She leaned in, intensifying the heady citrus scent surrounding him, and all of a sudden she was way too close.

Acting on instinct, he pushed her hands away. “Er…you know, I’m sure this cut just needs a Band-Aid.” He made a stupid noise then, sort of a combination of a chuckle and a wimpy laugh, sounding like an idiotic woodpecker. Real smooth.

She stepped back and gave him a look that said she thought he’d lost his marbles. “What?” She placed her hands on her slim hips and shook her head. “No way. It’s worse than that.”

Needing space, he stood, waving a hand in the air. “Nah, I’ve had this kind of cut before.” He moved toward the first-aid kit. “I’ll just get a Band-Aid and we’ll be done here.”

She caught his arm as he walked by, unexpectedly warming his skin through his flannel shirt. “Sit down, Mr. McCall. I’m the nurse here, and I say that cut needs attention.”

He stopped and looked at her, his eyebrows raised high, trying to decide if he liked her bossiness or not, absolutely ignoring her touch.

She smiled, creating cute dimples on both sides of her mouth, then let go of him, her green eyes sparkling. “Don’t make me wrestle you into that chair,” she said with enough mock severity that he had to smile. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if necessary.”

He hesitated, staring at her, liking her dimples and admiring the way she’d handled this situation with humor and guts all rolled into one. The truth was, he was being an uncooperative rat for a reason she couldn’t possibly know. It wasn’t her fault he needed space from her blatant appeal, that his past made it necessary to remained unfazed by her.

He owed her his cooperation. And he had to admit, she was right. The cut hurt like hell and more than likely needed tending. He knew exactly what that calf had been stepping in before it kicked him. He’d be asking for an infection if he didn’t have Jenny take care of his wound, and the last thing he wanted was to be laid low by illness.