Cowboys And Cradles

“I’m not opposed to giving you a raise,” she replied, glad to be on less dangerous ground. “Name your price, and we’ll see if we can make a deal.”

Ryder drew in a breath and shifted his gaze to a large, bare window. Name your price, he thought as the words rang in his mind. He wondered what it was.

Did he really want more money?

It seemed to have lost its appeal, he had to admit, now that his main use for it had disappeared. What remained was a long-held goal that might never be attained. He could move on and start over somewhere else, of course, maybe even try city life for a while.

But he discarded that last notion in a heartbeat as he watched a hawk streak past in the distance, cutting a swift path through the sky. Whatever he chose to do in the future, he knew down deep that he’d spent too much time in open spaces to live in a cramped city for any length of time. The sprawling desert, rolling hills and low mountains of the Southwest were almost as much a part of him as they were of the bird he’d just viewed. He’d never be able to—

It rose up and hit him squarely between the eyes. Something he should have realized the minute he got a good long look at Eve Terry. From her stylish haircut to her manicured fingernails to her—no doubt—manicured toenails, the whole fancy package said she belonged in the city. A big, thriving, fast-paced city. Like Dallas, where she’d come from. A ranch on the outskirts of Tucson wasn’t the end of the world, but it was hardly the world she was used to, not by a long shot.

She wouldn’t stick it out. Couldn’t, he was certain—certain enough to waste no time in using that newfound knowledge to his advantage.

“I don’t want a raise,” he said, breaking the silence. He turned his head, locked his gaze to hers. “What I want is the right of first refusal on buying this place if you decide to sell.” When you decide, he added to himself. “I’ll give you exactly what you paid for it, down to the last penny.” Given a little time, he could come up with the extra financing, surely. She’d probably last at least a couple of weeks.

As though she’d guessed his thoughts, Eve’s jaw tightened. “I’m staying,” she said flatly. “I subleased my apartment, sold my furniture, gave away my plants, shipped what I’ll need to continue my design work here and sent out 123 change-of-address cards. I’m here for good.”

“Then it shouldn’t be difficult to give me what I want,” he countered.

They stared at each other for ten humming seconds before she nodded. “Okay. You’ve got the right of first refusal, and I’ll be glad to put it in writing.”

Ryder heaved an inner sigh. He felt better than he had in weeks. Losing Amos Cutter, as mule-headed as the old man could be on occasion, had been a blow. Amos, along with cantankerous Pete Rawlins, had been the closest thing to family he’d had for many years.

But things were looking up again. For the moment he’d still be part of the ranch. And when his boss got bored with playing cowgirl and went hightailing it back to where she belonged, he’d—

Eve’s voice hauled back his attention. “Now, since I’ve given you what you asked for, I’d like something in return.”

He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Simple, it was becoming as clear as daylight, was not a word to be used in connection with this woman.

“And what’s that?” he asked warily.

She didn’t hesitate a second. “I want your agreement that you’ll remain with the Creedence Creek for the next six months, no matter what I decide to do here.”

Ryder ran his tongue over his teeth. Agreeing to stay was no problem. Long before those six months were up, he’d probably be the owner. It was the “no matter what” that bothered him.

Somehow he’d assumed the ranch would remain pretty much as it was, going on as it always had. A foolish assumption, he now realized. Yet what could she possibly plan to do with it? he asked himself, frowning in thought.

Suddenly something occurred to him, and it was horrible enough to make him shudder. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you want to turn this place into one of those god-awful dude ranches. Please, whatever you do, don’t tell me that.”

Looking amused, she shook her head and sent shiny silver hoops swinging from delicately shaped ears. “I won’t tell you that.”

He let out the long gust of air he’d been holding back. “Thank the Lord…and thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But I still don’t have your agreement,” she reminded him.

Since, in his opinion, practically nothing could be worse than playing mother hen to a bunch of greenhorns who didn’t know a horse’s rear from a hole in the ground, Ryder nodded. “You’ve got it—and I’ll put that in writing.”

Eve slapped her palms on the desktop and stood up. “Good, that’s settled then. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

He should have been equally pleased—would have been, if the last turn the conversation had taken wasn’t still bothering him. She wanted him to ask, was waiting for it, in fact. A sly glint in her eye told him that. If he had a lick of sense, he wouldn’t open his mouth. But he had to know.

“All right. Spill it. What do you intend to do with the place?”

Her lips curved in a slight smile. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to learn that I’m leaving most of it as it is.”

He threw a swift look up at the beamed ceiling. Thanks again, Lord.

“I have some real changes planned for this house, though,” she tacked on with an appraising glance around a room that contained no more than the basics.

And this woman would want more than the basics. Of course, she would. Curtains, drapes, a few rugs scattered about. Some pictures on the white stucco walls. That’s what she had in mind, he assured himself. Simple stuff.

Then he remembered that simple didn’t apply here. She didn’t even travel simple. He’d already been told she’d arrived with enough luggage to sink a battleship, and more stuff was likely on the way.

Again, he didn’t want to ask. Again, he found himself asking anyway. “Exactly what kind of changes do you have in mind?”

As she’d done earlier, Eve met his gaze head-on and didn’t so much as blink. “To be exact, I’m turning a portion of this house into a day care center.” The words were soft, the underlying tone firm. “A free day care center.”

He frowned. He couldn’t have understood her correctly. Surely he couldn’t have. “A day care center?”

She nodded slowly. “A day nursery, actually.”

“A nursery?” His frown deepened.

“Mmm-hmm. You know…for babies.”

Chapter Two

“Babies.”

Eve had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. Judging by the blankly stunned expression on Ryder Quinn’s face, she had surprised him, and surprised him well. “Yes, those little darlings who pop out nine months after mom and dad go to bed and do a lot more than sleep.”

He looked at her as if she had just said she’d landed from another planet. “You are flat-out crazy!”

“You’re welcome to think so,” she calmly informed him. “However, the attorney general of this state, being a perceptive woman, considers it a great idea.”

Ryder chewed that over for a second. “And where did you happen to bump into her?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“At a charity fund-raiser during Super Bowl celebrations a few years ago. We’ve kept in touch for quite a while. She loves the Sassy Lady line, by the way.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Believe what you want, but the end result is that she’s willing to help me deal with all the bureaucratic regulations involved in this type of thing. If she’s as good as her word, which I don’t doubt for a minute, the center should be up and running in a couple of weeks.”

Ryder sat down on the edge of the desk, looking so disgusted she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “Is the first lady, or maybe the Queen of England, in on this too?”

She had to smile. “No, they both missed that fundraiser.”

“What other big shots do you know?”