sorry,” he said. And a part of him meant that most sincerely. “But it’s not happening. I’ve been away from the ranch for too long.” For reasons he wasn’t prepared to discuss. “And despite the fact that I have a top-notch foreman and crew, there’s a truckload of work to be done. I’m not who you need, and I don’t have the time, the inclination or the ability to help you.”
“Not even if we’re talking life or death?” she asked, emphasizing that fact again. Something in her eyes told him that he’d disappointed her. Well, nothing new there. He was an excellent rancher, but he was also a master at disappointing people who expected him to care too much.
“You’ve been led astray if you were told to expect this kind of help from me,” he said. “I confine myself to small favors, to the doable. I’m no miracle worker.”
He stared coldly into her eyes, doing his best to ignore the fear and pain there, the slide of something—a tiny foot, a hand?—across her belly or how she automatically placed her palm over that place.
Her gray eyes pleaded with him, but she said nothing. A sudden, vague memory of a young girl looking at him as if she expected him to answer all her prayers flashed across his memory and was just as quickly gone.
His phone rang, and he deliberately put it on speakerphone. Anything to fill the silence. His foreman, Wes, said, “Holt, that cow with bloat needs seeing to or we’re going to lose her. The vet’s in the next county and you’re the best one to handle something this complicated.”
“I’ll be there in five.” Holt clicked off. He turned to Kathryn. “I have to go,” he said. Not I’m sorry, or Excuse me. The sudden defeat in her eyes made him want to say those words, but that might have given her hope for some-thing thatjust wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t the savior she had hoped he would be, and he wouldn’t pretend otherwise.
Her shoulders slumped. She turned toward her rusting car, then turned back. “Off to work a miracle, Holt?” she asked, throwing his “I’m no miracle worker” comment back at him.
“Off to do what I know how to do,” he said. “I don’t promise what I can’t deliver. Ever.”
And miracles of any kind were well outside his realm. As he had learned only too well.
Not waiting for her to leave, he strode to his truck. As he drove away in a cloud of dust, a pair of gray, hopeful eyes taunted him.
This time he didn’t hold back. He let loose with a string of blue language. Ms. Kathryn Ellis didn’t know how lucky she was. Women who got involved with an unbending, emotionally stingy man like him lived to regret it. As he’d been told before.
CHAPTER TWO
OKAY, dealing with Holt wasn’t going to be simple, Kathryn thought, back at home. If there was anyone else … But the mayor was adamant that he was the only one in a town this size who had the kind of influence she needed. The Double Bar C was known nationwide. The Calhouns had their fingers in many pies, and Holt was the one who oversaw all of that.
None of that would mean a thing, though, if the man didn’t agree to lend a hand. What to do? What to do? And why did it matter so much?
Because she was determined to turn her life completely around and this was the first step. I came back to my parents’ empty house despite the bad memories because I had no money or work, Kathryn reminded herself. Most of her life had been like that, running from one bad situation and one place to another. But with a baby on the way, she had to do more, to take a stand and become the kind of person a child could depend on. The next time she left somewhere she was going to do it the right way, having left something good behind her, because there was something good ahead of her.
Helping to build this clinic offered her a chance to leave this place on a positive note. On a more major note, it would allow her to use her heretofore useless deg in urban planning and beef up her skimpy résumé. Overseeing the project was the kind of thing that might put a gleam in an employer’s eye and finally help her provide a secure future for her and Baby Ellis.
But there was one more big reason. Despite her intent to slip quietly in and out of Larkville, she’d found that with her parents gone, the town was rather charming. She’d made a few friends, some of them her patients. She cared about them, worried about them and understood how scared they were at the prospect of losing their medical care. How could she not try to help? Still, even the best urban planner needed good people helping her. In this case, she had to get Holt’s help. How?
Butter him up, she thought. Flatter him. Play to his weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses, didn’t they?
Kathryn splayed her hands across her belly as if communing with her child would help her focus her thoughts. “Play to Holt Calhoun’s weaknesses?” As if she knew what those were.
Well, maybe she did, a little. During the two years she’d lived here, she’d practically stalked Holt. Other than football, he’d spent most of his time on the ranch. Cows, horses, dogs would be high on his list, she assumed. She hated having to brave the ranch again, but she had no choice. Where else would he be?
“You can do this, Ellis.” Her words more bravado than fact. Still, she slipped on her maternity jeans, tennis shoes and a pink top and headed to the Double Bar C. When she arrived, she made a beeline for the stables. A bold move, because she was a little afraid of large animals. She might have lived in Texas, but her parents had been former city dwellers who hadn’t liked Larkville. Ranches hadn’t been part of her life. Too bad. She was on a mission to rewrite the future, and it all started here. She wasn’t running this time.
A snorting, snuffling sound came from her right where a white horse in the corral was tossing its head. It was a beautiful animal. A gigantic animal. And it didn’t seem to be too sure about her presence.
Kathryn tried to quiet her nerves. She’d come prepared, knowing that Holt’s animals would be a part of this. If she could make friends with this creature quickly, then when Holt finally showed up, he might think she was a natural cow woman, like her better, and he and she might bond over equine details. She had gone online just last night to find some interesting facts. She now knew that there were more than three hundred and fifty breeds of horses and ponies and she knew that horses could walk, trot, gallop and canter.
But none of that mattered right now. Holt’s horse was looking at her as if she had horns and a red forked tail. Reaching for what she hoped would be her secret weapon, Kathryn dug into her purse and pulled a carrot from a plastic bag.
“Here, boy.” She held out the carrot clutched between her thumb and forefinger. “Look what I have.”
The horse lurched toward her a bit, and she jerked back, then stuck her hand out again.
“Don’t. Do. That.” The deep voice was unmistakable. It came from the barn behind her. “Stop moving. Right now.”
Kathryn froze. Holt walked up behind her, and she felt very exposed even though she was fully dressed. Seriously, the man exuded something masculine. He got attention.
But, of course, she was supposed to be the one snagging his attention, not the other way around.
“He doesn’t like carrots?” she asked.
“He loves carrots.”
“I—I see. Or, actually, I don’t.” She forgot to freeze and waved her hand around as she spoke. The horse followed with his head. He moved closer. Quickly.
Kathryn jumped.
Just then Holt stepped forward, gave a command to the horse and reached out and took her hand, forcing her to drop the carrot in the dirt. She looked at it with dismay.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I assume you’d like to keep all your fingers. Horses have sharp teeth and massive heads. Daedalus is gentle, but he doesn’t know you or understand what you’re doing. He wants what you have, but the way