Mom's The Word - Roz Denny Fox Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance

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shock and disappointment.

      “Yes. Mrs. Joe Ryan.” Hayley bit her lip hard and felt guilty for lying. But technically her divorce wouldn’t be final for six months. By then, she’d better have uncovered whatever secrets this land held. Meanwhile, claiming to be married might discourage Jacob Cooper from making any more uninvited visits.

      But as she saw him climb back on the big gelding, a pang of regret gripped her chest. These past few minutes had been quite pleasant.

      Really, though, she’d be foolish to trust him. Since Joe’s subterfuge, Hayley had been reluctant to trust any man. She certainly ought to know better than to let one as overtly charming as Jake Cooper get under her skin. She’d landed in this fix because she’d tumbled head over bootstraps for one beguiling frog she’d mistaken for a prince. She didn’t plan to let that happen again.

      Shading her eyes, Hayley gazed solemnly at Jake Cooper.

      “I’ve got work to do,” he muttered. “Can’t stay here socializing all day.”

      “I didn’t invite you here in the first place,” she snapped. When guilt stabbed again, Hayley dropped her arm and leaned down to pat his dog. “Take care, old fella,” she crooned. “Tell your master I’ll enjoy my dinner of ham, tomatoes and fresh corn.”

      Jake glanced down at the straight-arrow part in her hair, and despite himself he smiled. She tried so hard to act tough. Something told Jake she was a lot softer inside. But two could play her go-between game.

      “Charcoal, you tell the lady to bury her scraps deep. We’d hate to have her blood spilled by some marauding cougar or one of those Mexican jaguars sighted around here last fall. Honest,” he said. “Oh, and tell her to keep an eye out for rattlers. They come out to warm themselves on the rocks by the spring.”

      That last bit of information stiffened Hayley’s spine. “Ick. I hate snakes. I suppose you’re telling the truth?” Her hesitancy indicated she hoped he was lying.

      “Scout’s honor. Ben collected a whole box of fair-size rattles over the years. Promise me you’ll take care.”

      Hayley didn’t know why she should promise him anything. But the concern in his deep voice melted her resistance. “Same goes for you,” she offered in a whisper. “I mean, you take care around those steers. I noticed you have a scar running along the top of your cheek. Last man I saw with something similar said he’d tangled with a longhorn.”

      Jake brushed his thumb over the old wound. He tended to forget about it until he went to shave. “This was a present from the last rodeo bull I climbed aboard. My dad said at least the animal knocked some sense into me. And my brother claimed I finally realized a pretty face meant more to me than a trunkful of gold buckles.”

      Hayley enjoyed the verbal peek at his family. She envied his close relationship with his dad and his brother. But she couldn’t allow herself to feel such things, to be anything but resolutely self-sufficient. Swiveling, she grabbed both mugs and hurried to the spring where she knelt to swish the cups.

      Jake willed her to look his way again. When it became clear she didn’t intend to and that their visit was at an end, he whistled Charcoal to heel and galloped off through the trees. Hard as it was, he resisted taking a last survey of Hayley Ryan.

      CHAPTER THREE

      HAYLEY WANTED TO CALL Jacob Cooper back. He, his horse and dog had brought some warmth to her day. She felt a sharp loss when they disappeared from sight. Though she’d never had a lot of close friends, in Tombstone she’d at least interacted with people. Every day she went to the post office, the market and the mine. She’d always thrived on the company of others, preferring it to the solitary life she knew too well. Maybe trying to work this site by herself wasn’t such a good idea after all.

      What choice did she have? Hayley trudged back to the trailer with the newly washed mugs, thinking it wasn’t like Joe had left her any alternative. Here it was mid-July. Christmas wasn’t all that far off. By then, she’d have the company she craved. A child. Her child. The thought of holding her baby made Hayley smile.

      As she returned to the fireside and picked up her book, she gave herself a good talking-to. She hadn’t come to her grandfather’s claim to socialize. She’d come to wrest out a living for herself and for her unborn child. She didn’t need the distraction of a good-looking, soft-voiced cowpuncher. In her limited experience, men who made nice were after more than a cup of coffee. Jacob Cooper wanted something. It was a cinch he wasn’t bowled over by her great beauty or stunning personality.

      The notion that he might find her attractive made her laugh. She looked positively scruffy and she’d acted downright surly. If someone had taken a shot at her, she wouldn’t be inclined to go back, let alone bring gifts. Not only that, Joe had made it abundantly clear in his note that she had nothing to offer a man—except her grandfather’s mine.

      So, yes. Jake Cooper had an agenda. He wanted free access to the spring. He’d said his family had plans to buy this chunk of land and all the acreage that adjoined it, if and when her grandfather relinquished his claim.

      Well…maybe Cooper had a water agreement with Gramps, and maybe he didn’t.

      Hayley shook off the uncharitable thoughts that kept crowding in. Jake Cooper had made an effort to be friendly. She needed the fresh produce he’d brought. She needed milk and eggs, too. Why hadn’t she asked him if he knew of anyone who might sell her a milk cow or a couple of laying hens? Instead of getting so touchy, she should have made inquiries of her own.

      JAKE RETREATED to the top of a rise that overlooked Hayley Ryan’s camp. Dismounting, he tied Mojave to a scrub oak and flung himself flat behind a slab of granite. Charcoal whined as Jake peeled off his gloves and trained a pair of binoculars on the Ryan woman.

      “It’s okay, boy,” Jake murmured. “We’ll hunt strays in a little while. For now, find a shady spot and rest your bones.”

      The dog flipped his ears to and fro, then stretched out under a tree. Eventually he settled his nose on his front paws, never taking his eyes off Jake.

      Jake wasn’t sure what he’d expected Hayley to do once he’d gone. He felt a vague disappointment when she returned to her chair and stuck her nose in one of the books she had piled beside her.

      “Crazy woman,” he growled. “Acts like she’s at a resort, instead of smack-dab in the middle of the wilderness.” He watched her read for the better part of an hour. Suddenly she glanced up and straight at his hiding place. Jake found himself yanking off his white hat, lest she spot him and get it into her head to take another shot. This time with her rifle.

      Common sense told him he was too well hidden to be seen by the naked eye. Her naked eye. And brother, what eyes they were. So dark a blue they were almost purple. Still staring through his powerful binoculars, Jake all but drooled on the bandanna around his neck. He didn’t relax until she returned her interest to the book.

      That didn’t last. She soon tossed it aside, stood and shaded her eyes, staring hard in his direction. She turned slowly as if searching the hills for something in particular. Or someone.

      Jake realized the sun had shifted and was probably reflecting off the lenses of his binoculars. “Crap.” He dropped the glasses and scooted back on his belly until he was safely into the trees. “Why don’t I just send up a flare and announce I’m snooping?” he muttered disgustedly.

      Lifting his head, Charcoal barked.

      “Shh.” Jake raised a hand. “Sound carries down these ravines, boy. And we don’t want the lady to know the Triple C plans to keep her under surveillance for a while.”

      The dog cocked his head, gazing at Jake intelligently before slithering to his side.

      Grinning, Jake rubbed a hand between the dog’s ears. “I know. You think I’ve taken leave of my senses. Which is precisely what Dillon will say if I don’t hightail it out

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