The Ranch Hand by Hannah Skye Page A

a bit different. I got lucky with the ranch. I understand that. You understand it and you’re too much a gentleman to say. I’m not offended by that. But I’ve worked hard for it too. Same as you. And if you need your dream—you want to achieve it, you go right ahead. I’d never stand in your way. But damn it, Harlan. That doesn’t mean we can’t…we can’t find out if this thing between us…” She swallowed hard again. It was as if she had an ice cube in her throat that wouldn’t go down and wouldn’t melt. “If this thing between us leads anywhere.”
    For a moment she saw his resolve waver. She could see that he wanted her, that he was hurting despite the tough face he was showing her. He lifted his hand, as if to touch her. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He paused, his hand hanging momentarily in the air between them before he let it fall back down to his side. She choked back an anguished cry, not willing for him to know how much that had hurt her. He shook his head.
    “No. No, Carol. I have to do this. For me.”
    “You selfish bastard!” She wheeled around and stumbled for the door, feeling the tears burn her eyes and blur her vision. Feeling hollow inside, a great emptiness that nothing could seem to fill. She shoved the door open, knowing she must look absurd and foolish and not caring a bit. She slammed the door behind her and staggered out into the snowfall. It was still very quiet, only the fading echoes of the door-slam breaking the peace. She didn’t look back as she crashed and shoved through the fallen snow. She listened for him, but she didn’t glance behind her.
    Nothing. No sound of pursuit. He wasn’t coming after her.
    She couldn’t help it. She looked back and hated herself for it. No sign of Harlan. His trailer was still, snow speckling the sides, warm light spilling through the windows, and no sign of him.
    At first she intended to head back to the house to…to she didn’t know what. Something to take her mind off of this and off of him. But the thought of facing her aunt again made her stomach sink with dismay. And being trapped inside, cooped up and claustrophobic and unable to escape her own whirling thoughts and emotions would drive her stone crazy. She veered away from the house, heading for the stables instead, and pulled her jacket tight around her against the wind-driven snow.
    The door to Harlan’s trailer banged open, startling a gasp from her. She looked back again, but kept walking. He loomed in the doorway, big enough for his shoulders to touch either side of the frame. He stepped down into the snow, yanking on his jacket as he moved. His gaze locked on hers. Desire. She’d seen that look in men before. Need. A wanting so powerful it seemed to smolder in his eyes. A thrill raced through her, from her brain, electrifying her spine, down her to pussy and right back up again, warming her. She hesitated…then turned away and continued onward, clamping her teeth together so hard her jaw muscles ached. She wouldn’t run to him. She wouldn’t .
    A clang and a crunch made her glance behind again. Harlan had jumped off the step and strode straight for her, forging his own path like a plow, his boots crunching through the snow.
    It was true, part of her wanted to be caught. To hear what he had to say now. Hoping he’d changed his mind. But more of her didn’t, and that particular part was running her legs at the moment as she kicked her way through the snowpack. After all, she still had her pride didn’t she? Harlan was the one with something to prove.
    She hurried toward the stables, almost running now.
    “Carol!” he yelled from behind her.
    She ignored him, didn’t turn, though it wrenched her heart so bad she moaned out a long cloud of breath. A moment later she heard him start running after her. She finally turned just as he reached her. He drew up short, put his arms on her shoulders, and looked into her face as she tilted her head to stare back at