“It looks bad,” she said.
“It was.” He moved farther away before he did something stupid. “The point is I’m not going to let this guy hurt you. If he comes, we’ll take care of him.”
“He’s rich, Josh. He might not come alone. The truth is I have no idea what Damon will do, how far he’ll go to get revenge.”
“Damon. What’s his last name?”
“Bridger. Damon Bridger. But it isn’t fair to you—”
“Let me worry about that.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “You just keep cooking those great meals and I’ll take care of the rest, okay?”
She stared at him for the longest time before she finally nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Now unpack and get back to work. By the way, what’s for supper?”
“It was going to be meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
He almost groaned. “Sounds great.” He was heading for the door when Ivy came running into the bedroom, her little brown velvet horse clutched tightly against her chest.
“I’m ready, Mama. Let’s go!”
“We’re staying, honey. Josh says we can stay.”
Ivy’s attention shifted warily in his direction, then returned to her mother. “We can’t stay. What about Damon? We have to go.” Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “We have to leave, Mama!”
Careful to keep his distance, Josh crouched in front of the little girl. “Listen to me, Ivy. I’m not going to let Damon hurt you. I promise you that. You don’t have to leave. You’ll be safe here.”
Ivy ignored him. “We have to go, Mama! We have to run away!”
“You can stay on the ranch, Ivy,” Josh said. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Solemn blue eyes, wet with tears, locked on his face. “Damon’s really mean.”
“If I have to, I can be really mean, too. Only I don’t hurt women and little girls.”
Ivy stared at him, trying to decide if she should trust him. She ran to Tory and hung on to her waist. “Josh says we can stay.”
The little girl was taking a risk, counting on him. The knowledge made his chest feel tight.
Tory managed to smile at Ivy. “Let’s go cook Josh some supper, okay?”
“’Kay.” Still clutching her stuffed pony, Ivy raced out into the hall.
Tory looked up at him. Her lashes were damp. “No one’s offered to help us in a very long time. Thank you.”
The tightness returned to his chest. “Nothing to thank me for yet. I’ll see you at supper.”
Glad to get away from his unfamiliar emotions, Josh walked out of the bedroom. He didn’t know how it had happened, but he had a woman and a kid in his life—the last thing he needed. A woman and a child with a threat hanging over their heads.
A woman he wanted and couldn’t have.
He wondered if things could get any worse.
And knew damn well they could.
* * *
Tory returned to Josh’s kitchen, mixing hamburger with bread, eggs, and spices to make the meatloaf recipe her mother had taught her. Her job on the ranch was simple: cooking, laundry, keeping house, running an occasional errand. She should have been bored to death.
