Suddenly Ivy banged her shovel onto the ground. “I apologize, Sandra, but Mr. Ballenger told me that we need to rebuild the floodgate that washed out after the rain. You know how it is. It’s a job that won’t wait.”
“You and Darrell and Brody can do it,” Sandra said.
Okay, that was just wrong, Noah thought. “I don’t ask my hands to do things that I won’t do,” he said. That was true, but there was only one floodgate affected. It wasn’t enough work for all four of them.
But Ivy obviously wanted the woman gone. And frankly, so did he. Noah stuck to his guns.
When Sandra had gone, he turned to Ivy. “Thanks.” But he had to know more. “You don’t like Sandra. Has she been mean to you?”
Ivy shrugged. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Why?”
She frowned.
“What?” he asked.
“Basically, I’d say she covets you and she thinks I’m in her way,” Ivy confessed.
Yeah, he kind of got the coveting part. “That’s pretty disgusting for her to mistreat you because she wants something.”
“Yes, but on the other hand, I’m not any better. I lied about the floodgate.”
He shook his head. “You kept me from having to play nice guy to someone who isn’t all that nice. So we’ll make your story true. Brody has plenty of other things he can do.”
“I didn’t mean to make extra work for you.”
But work felt curiously like…not work as he and Ivy dived into the messy job of rebuilding the floodgate. They hadn’t spoken much during these days when all the women had been visiting, so as he and Ivy worked in concert, he turned to her. “Are you okay with the women of the town now? Tight?” he asked, twisting his fingers together the way she had the day she had lied and told him that.
She shook her head. “They’re polite, but I’m not the reason they’re here. I’m just the conduit. They want to know about you. And…they ask a lot of questions about you and Lily. I don’t like that.”
“Because you’re uncomfortable talking about her.” He hoped he managed not to show how much that bothered him.
“No, it’s not that. The things they ask…they want to know what you and Lily do together, what you’re like with her, that kind of thing. I remember that day in the store. Some of them, even though they seem entranced by the thought of you peeling off your shirt, were concerned that you weren’t raising Lily right. I don’t like thinking that they might be spying on you. That’s not right. You’re a good father.”
“How do you know that?” She was never with him when he was with Lily. Her eyes were dark pools of pain when she discussed his daughter, and he knew that a lot of that was because Lily was so close to the age her Bo would have been had he lived.
“I hear it when you talk about her. I know it,” she said simply, staring into his eyes.
Noah stared right back. Emotion flooded through him, even though he didn’t want it to. She was the last woman he could be attracted to, and yet he was.
“You don’t know much about me,” he argued. “I was a skirt chaser when I was young. Then I met a woman who was spending a summer with her relatives in the next county. She was French, exotic, exciting and different from anyone I’d ever met. I fell hard, and her actions seemed to indicate that she loved me, too, but when summer was over, she left and married a well-connected diplomat with an Ivy League background. She just used me to hold boredom at bay for the summer, and she was amused that I had thought she would settle for a rancher.” A bit like the way the women of the town were using Ivy to get to him, Noah realized. He hated that.
“I got in a lot of trouble during the next year. Gillian was a hard lesson to learn, but I thought I’d mastered it. Then I met Pamala. She was funny and quirky and in love with ranching, I thought. So I bit. Two months after giving birth to Lily, she left. She went running off to the next lifestyle she fell in love with—acting—and she left Lily without a backward glance. So yes, I love my child. She comes before everything. And no, I’m not remarrying or letting anyone separate me from Lily. Now, maybe you know enough about me to say that I’m a good father, because some days I am.”
“And the other days?”
“I’m totally petrified, don’t have a clue what I’m doing and am scared to death that I’ll somehow damage her.”
Ivy reached out and touched his cheek. “You haven’t damaged her yet. I know damaged. She’s not even close. I don’t think you could manage it if you tried.”
Maybe not, he thought when they had both gone back to work, but he could manage to do something stupid with a woman again, and he was perilously close to doing that with Ivy. Thank goodness he was stopped cold by the thought that Lily would be hurt if he brought a woman into their lives and that woman left.
Because Ivy was going to leave. She might think she was through with modeling, but he saw the way she walked and looked. Even her cowgirl clothes had class. He’d found articles on the Internet about her adventures in Paris and Rome. When she was finally through mourning, that life would come calling again. So he couldn’t allow himself to be foolish.
A part of him wished he’d stayed firm and not hired her. But mostly he was glad he’d given her the job. While she was here, she made him smile; she made him think. And…she was so alone. At least this job would do one good thing for her by enabling her to pay off the taxes and sell her ranch.
Noah tried to pretend that he wouldn’t even notice once she was gone. He didn’t succeed. In fact, when Noah woke up in the middle of the night, Ivy was already on his mind. He’d been dreaming about her, and she hadn’t been wearing a whole lot in his dream. That couldn’t be good.
He sat up with a grunt, flipped on the light and rubbed his eyes as if to rub away the image of Ivy dressed in a short, tight white dress and boots, her blond hair floating around her face as she beckoned to him like a Siren calling him to both ecstasy and doom.
“Stop it, Ballenger,” he muttered. “Now.” If he was going to think about Ivy, he could at least avoid thinking about her in erotic ways. That would only complicate things.
Besides, now that he was awake and more in control of himself, what he kept remembering from this latest conversation with Ivy was how determinedly nonchalant she had been when she’d told him that the women in town didn’t like her, and how haunted she had looked when she’d told him that she knew Lily wasn’t damaged because…
He didn’t have to finish the thought. Ivy knew about damaged little girls. She’d been a virtual prisoner on her father’s ranch and she’d had no female friends. And yet, what he couldn’t escape was how polite she’d been to those women even though she suspected their motives. She hadn’t called them out. She’d accepted the fact that they had used her as an excuse to get to him. And she’d done it while holding her head high.
Those women were using her, dismissing her, and he knew all too well how it felt to be used and dismissed. He hated the fact that his child would suffer because a woman had decided to use him as a temporary toy, then had walked away. It still burned that he hadn’t been able to stop that from happening, that it still messed with his life and his child’s life.
Using people…the very subject made him fume, but this situation with Ivy was different from his own. This time he was forewarned. Maybe he could stop it from happening.
Stay out of Ivy’s business, Ballenger, he told himself.
But thirty minutes later he was still raging about the fact that he had played a part in this scenario, even if it hadn’t been by choice. It was his fault that