Eyes as hard as the piece of molten glass he’d found in the ashes held his gaze without blinking. “Nor have I!”
What did she mean? But he wasn’t going to ask.
“See that little gate?” He pointed to the corner. “Open it and chase the calf down that alley. He’ll spend the night away from his mama, and in the morning, you can milk.” No doubt he’d have to show her how, but then he was done here. Just as soon as Cal and Lee returned, he’d be on his way. Why did he have to keep repeating it as many times as she insisted he needed to stay?
Dianne opened the gate and called, “Here, calf. Here, calf.”
Jace held back his laughter. “I said chase, not call.”
“Chase, huh?” Her lips flattened in a hard line, and she walked up to the calf. “Go.”
The calf butted her in the hip.
She darted Jace a look of pure narrow-eyed frustration.
“Pat him on the behind. He knows what he’s supposed to do.” He could help, and he would if she needed it. But, oh my, did he enjoy a spunky woman.
Her pat barely registered with the calf, and he skipped off in the wrong direction. Dianne charged after him. “Calf, go where you’re supposed to.”
Eddie joined Jace to watch. “What Mama doing?”
“Well, I can’t rightly say, but she’s supposed to be putting the calf in his pen.” If amusement gurgled up with his words, he couldn’t help it…didn’t even try.
“I heard that.”
He laughed slowly, softly.
The calf jogged along, Dianne steaming after it. More out of habit than persuasion, the critter ran down the alley. She followed it to the other pen and pulled the gate shut. Her feet still churning up a storm, she returned, closed the gate behind her, and strode from the bigger pen.
“I did it.” The stubborn determination that had drawn her face into hard lines vanished like last morning’s dew, replaced by a grin that grew into rolling laughter.
He blinked. “What’s so funny?”
She fluttered her hand as she tried to control her amusement. “Me.” Another laugh. “Us.”
As he closed the distance between them, she grew serious, her gaze never leaving his.
“Why are we funny?” His words growled from his throat.
Her eyes danced right into his heart.
Whoa. That was a dumb thing to think.
A sweetness softened her face and teased her lips into a smile. “Because our stubbornness balances each other’s.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” The acknowledgment was like opening a door to possibilities. He would not examine what that meant. Not now. Not while her eyes brimmed with something so alluring he couldn’t do anything but stare. He lowered his gaze to her full, smiling lips.
Skip barked excitedly as he chased Eddie, shattering the moment. And none too soon.
Jace had forgotten he was leaving. Forgotten she could and would manage without him. Forgotten he couldn’t stay. All that he thought was how sweet she was. Sweet with a touch of vinegar. How Chet would have enjoyed having her here.
Jace sucked in air. Because of his careless actions, Chet couldn’t have the pleasure of her company, so neither could Jace.
With a promise to show her how to milk the cow in the morning, an order to Skip to stay at the house, and a hurried “good night,” he parted ways with her and Eddie at the house and made his lonely way to the bunkhouse.
Too restless to sleep, he paced up and down the narrow aisle, pausing often in front of the tiny kitchen at the far end. The men cooked for themselves when they were at the ranch. Only during a roundup did Chet hire a cook and a chuckwagon.
The stove was cold.
