She opened her mouth.
He groaned. “Give up, Ivy.”
Something inside her cried out at the injustice, but she knew when she was beaten. She’d traveled this “no way to win” path before. In this very town. On the ranch she’d grown up on.
Pocketing her pliers, she turned to walk away.
“You don’t have to walk. I’ll arrange for you to ride.”
She stopped, tipped her head back as she pivoted and stared up at him. “No. You have only one thing I want and that’s all I’ll accept from you.” A ride was a pity gesture. She had what it took to do this job, even if Noah couldn’t see it. Walking home was nothing. Deciding where she went with her life from here? That was the difficult part.
Still, she wouldn’t let him see her fear. A frightened woman wouldn’t change his mind. Ivy squared her shoulders and marched away. She and Noah were done, unless…
Stop it, she told herself. There won’t be any unless. He’s made that clear.
But then, she’d always had a stubborn, rebellious streak. Sometimes a good dose of stubborn was all a person had to see them through the day.
“What’s that you’re eating, pumpkin?” Noah asked his daughter.
Lily held out one chubby little hand, in which she clutched a mangled piece of toast with jam. She looked up at him with her huge blue eyes and smiled. “Cook-ie,” she said with a little laugh.
Noah wiggled his eyebrows. “That looks like toast to me.”
Lily giggled. “Cook-ie,” she insisted.
“Marta, are you giving our girl cookies for breakfast?” he asked incredulously.
Marta gave a dramatic sigh. “She insisted.”
Noah shook his head. He pointed to the toast. “No cookies for breakfast, Lily.”
“Cookie,” she said with another laugh, her blond curls swaying as her little body rocked with delight at this strange little routine she and her daddy had somehow fallen into.
Noah did his best to look stern. “Okay, hand over the cookie, Lilykins.”
And here came the good part, the part she loved. “No. Toast,” she said with great relish and popped a piece into her mouth.
“Ah, you are a clever one, sweetheart,” he told her. “And a stubborn one. You know how to get your way when you want to.”
He was still thinking about that when he wandered outside to work. In her own way, Ivy reminded him of Lily. Stubborn and determined and proud and hard to resist.
Noah stopped in his tracks. That was a road he didn’t want to travel. Ivy had no business invading his thoughts. That was how all bad things with women started—when you let ones you had nothing in common with start creeping into your thoughts uninvited. Next thing you knew you were in high water, unable to get back to shore or swim against the strength of the current, and they were leaving you. Or even worse, they were leaving Lily. Hurting her. Without so much as a drop of remorse.
Noah growled.
“Bad night?” Brody asked, coming up beside him in the barn.
“You sound hopeful.”
Brody laughed. “Not at all, but if you did have a bad night, your day isn’t going to be any better. Ed broke his leg last night and he’s out of commission. Now we’re down two hands instead of just one.”
Noah’s growl turned into a blue streak of cussing.
“Is that any way for a daddy to talk?”
“No, but Lily’s inside, and I have good reason to swear. I recognize that look in your eyes.”
“What look is that?”
“It’s the ‘I’m holding a good hand’ look. You’ve wiped the floor with me at poker that way before, so let’s not play games. Say what you’ve got to say.”
“Okay, I will. The thing is…Ivy isn’t just nice to look at. She’s a determined worker. I saw her wade in and rescue a calf yesterday that had gotten caught in some muck.”
“She did what? And you didn’t tell me?”
“No point in telling you when you weren’t listening.”
“She was going. She wasn’t coming back.” But in Noah’s mind he heard Lily holding a piece of toast and telling him that it was a cookie while she laughed at her own joke. Ivy might have left and intimated that she wasn’t coming back, but she obviously had a stubborn streak as wide as his daughter’s.
Now Brody was shaking his head. “She sure did a number on you, didn’t she?”
Noah didn’t ask who. Brody didn’t know the half of what his wife had done or about the woman preceding her. And Noah had had enough. Without saying another word, he turned toward his car.
“If you’re looking for Ivy, she’s out at the corral getting acquainted with Bruiser.”
Noah’s heart lurched. “And you let her? I should have got rid of that horse long ago. I’ve been meaning to. Have to before Lily starts roaming around outside.”
“I get the feeling Ivy isn’t the kind of woman a man lets do anything. She has a mind of her own.”
But Noah was through listening. Brody was clearly besotted and worthless where Ivy was concerned. Instead Noah made a beeline for the corral where Bruiser was penned alone. He had bought the horse one insane day a year ago when he’d finally realized that Pamala was never going to even make an attempt to be a mother. He’d been counting on the hope that once Lily got past the tiny baby stage and turned cute as all get-out, Pamala might at least try to show up and be a mother occasionally. But he’d thought wrong. He’d raged against Pamala’s coldhearted betrayal of her own child, but there had been nothing he could do.
He’d been in the mood to go up against someone his own size, and Bruiser had seemed like a creature who was more than willing to meet the challenge. He and the horse had ridden the hills, fighting each other, each one half-crazy and wild. Although there was evidence that the big horse had been abused at one time—there were scars on his back and flanks—he and Noah were a match. They had ended that long ride with an understanding, a wary respect for each other, but Bruiser didn’t tolerate anyone else. As big as he was and with that surely volatile history, he was too dangerous to keep on a ranch with a young child who promised to grow up unpredictable.
Noah already had misgivings about his abilities as a parent. He’d made mistakes, he’d failed Lily on many occasions and in many ways, and worst of all, he hadn’t been able to stop Pamala from leaving his little girl. But he meant to do better, to be as good a father as he could, so selling Bruiser should have been an easy call. He didn’t know why he hadn’t done it already, but now he was going to have to. Apparently Ivy Seacrest was going to force his hand.
Again. Noah frowned. He rounded the barn…and came upon Ivy in the corral brushing Bruiser’s coat. The huge black creature looked more than a little nervous.
“Ivy,” Noah said softly.
She raised her head, looking almost as wary as Bruiser. Like some wild creature who had been abused and expected to be abused again.
“Shh,” she said, and she soothed her hand over the big horse’s side.
Bruiser shivered, and Noah’s breath nearly stopped. “For God’s sake, Ivy, step away from the horse. Slowly. Quietly.”
“He’s not going to hurt me.” She leaned closer to the horse.
“He’s not a lamb, Ivy.