In a Cowboy's Arms. Lissa Manley

instinct, he pushed her hands away. “Er…you know, I’m sure this cut just needs a Band-Aid.” He made a stupid noise then, sort of a combination of a chuckle and a wimpy laugh, sounding like an idiotic woodpecker. Real smooth.

      She stepped back and gave him a look that said she thought he’d lost his marbles. “What?” She placed her hands on her slim hips and shook her head. “No way. It’s worse than that.”

      Needing space, he stood, waving a hand in the air. “Nah, I’ve had this kind of cut before.” He moved toward the first-aid kit. “I’ll just get a Band-Aid and we’ll be done here.”

      She caught his arm as he walked by, unexpectedly warming his skin through his flannel shirt. “Sit down, Mr. McCall. I’m the nurse here, and I say that cut needs attention.”

      He stopped and looked at her, his eyebrows raised high, trying to decide if he liked her bossiness or not, absolutely ignoring her touch.

      She smiled, creating cute dimples on both sides of her mouth, then let go of him, her green eyes sparkling. “Don’t make me wrestle you into that chair,” she said with enough mock severity that he had to smile. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if necessary.”

      He hesitated, staring at her, liking her dimples and admiring the way she’d handled this situation with humor and guts all rolled into one. The truth was, he was being an uncooperative rat for a reason she couldn’t possibly know. It wasn’t her fault he needed space from her blatant appeal, that his past made it necessary to remained unfazed by her.

      He owed her his cooperation. And he had to admit, she was right. The cut hurt like hell and more than likely needed tending. He knew exactly what that calf had been stepping in before it kicked him. He’d be asking for an infection if he didn’t have Jenny take care of his wound, and the last thing he wanted was to be laid low by illness.

      He nodded and moved back to the chair and obediently sat. “You’re right.” He pointed to his cut. “Have at it.”

      With a nod, Jenny leaned in again, her body closer than he liked, and gently probed his wound. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

      “So, how was your trip?” he asked, making conversation to distance himself from the searing ache in his brow.

      She stepped back and moved to the counter. “Fine. Ava slept quite a bit, and aside from a stop in La Grande for lunch and a snack stop in Baker City, I drove straight through.” She turned back around. “You’re lucky, Mr. McCall. You don’t need stitches, so I’ll clean the wound, disinfect it, and put butterfly closures on it.”

      He nodded, tempted to have her call him Ty, but decided the more formal they kept things, the better. “You showed up at just the right time. My dad probably would have just put duct tape on it and called it good.”

      She laughed, sending warmth throughout his body. “Sounds like something my brother Aiden would do. He was a photojournalist overseas and is kind of the rebel in a family of practical medical professionals. My dad’s been a doctor in Oak Valley for years, and Connor, as you know, is a doctor, also.” She headed back to him, a white sterile cloth she’d pulled out of the first-aid kit in her hand. “This’ll probably hurt.”

      She fussed over him for the next few minutes, invading his space. Resigned to her closeness for a while, he leaned back and let her work, needing to get the medical procedure over with and her out of his personal territory. He had to admit, though, that her steady, gentle touch and soothing chair-side manner relaxed him.

      The truth was, he kind of enjoyed her fussing over him, something Andrea had never done. She’d only fussed over herself.

      When Jenny finished and backed off, setting about cleaning up, he was relieved to have her away from him, a threat he could deal with from a distance.

      He stood, shaking his head, which had begun to throb. A wave of dizziness hit him and he sank back down into the chair, feeling stupid for getting himself kicked.

      But he felt like even more of an idiot when he realized that his plan to remain impervious to Jenny hadn’t worked very well.

      He hated to admit it, but after living in such isolation, he feared that her amazing smile and magic healing touch would be impossible to ignore.

      Chapter Two

      Jenny cleaned up from the mid-afternoon snack of all-natural peanut butter and sugar-free crackers she’d fed Ava and Morgan earlier. The two giggling toddlers played at her feet, both content to bang on the pots and pans Jenny had dug out of the cupboard.

      She looked down at the girls, her Ava a curl-topped blonde and Morgan a wispy-haired brunette, thanking God that the two had become fast friends immediately. Jenny smiled, a deep sense of contentment wrapping her in a fragile cocoon of security, soothing her in a way that nothing had since Jack had died.

      She’d done the right thing by coming here. Ava seemed happy with their new situation and was safe from any harm, the number-one item on Jenny’s wish list, and life had settled into a predictable routine that made her feel secure. It was such a relief not to be a burden on her family any longer.

      Looking back on her arrival three days ago, she felt foolish for doubting the decision she’d made to start a new life on this ranch. She felt even more foolish for being worried that her unexpected interest in Ty’s rugged good looks would be a problem.

      Ty left the house early each morning and didn’t return until well after dinner every night. She hardly ever saw him. Everything was just fine.

      Though she would never allow herself to be close to any man ever again—the pain she’d experienced when Jack died would see to that—it was still a relief to discover that she wouldn’t be around Ty very much. The last thing she wanted was to get sucked into his utter maleness. Having him gone all day, his seat absent at mealtimes, was all right by her.

      Just as she’d finished rinsing out the girls’ sippy cups, Sam walked into the kitchen. “I rode the ATV out to the fence line Ty and the guys have been repairing, and they’re done.” He opened the fridge and peered inside. “He rode back with me and hit the shower and’ll be around for dinner, so I think I’ll whip up some sandwiches from the leftover meat loaf.”

      Jenny dropped a plastic cup into the sink. Her stomach dipped, then a current of excitement buzzed through her. She pressed a hand to her midsection, frowning at the strange combination of dread and anticipation twisting inside of her. “Really?” she managed to say. She cleared her throat. “That’s nice.”

      Sam puttered around the kitchen, gathering dinner-making supplies. Her stomach tight, Jenny herded both girls into the family room for a game of “kitchen,” as the girls called it. Chiding herself for making a big deal out of nothing—it was simply a dinner with her employer, for heaven’s sake—she sat on the couch while the girls made her pretend meals. She did her best to focus on her job rather than on the fact that beyond-handsome Ty McCall was going to be in the same room as she was in an hour or so.

      After fifty or so pretend meals, she took Ava and Morgan out into the backyard to play on the plastic play structure Ty had put there, making sure she kept close to both girls at all times, especially when they climbed the ladder to the small slide. She only hoped the gorgeous early summer day would settle her nerves.

      A half hour later, Sam called them in for dinner. She took each girl by the hand and led them into the house. After washing her and the girls’ hands, she checked Morgan’s blood-sugar level, noted the acceptable reading in the logbook and gave her the appropriate injection of insulin. She then settled both girls into their matching booster seats at the kitchen table.

      Just about the time she felt like she had her jumpy nerves under control, Ty sauntered into the kitchen.

      He looked better than any man had a right to look, freshly showered, his light-blond hair still damp, his jaw slightly darkened by his late-day stubble. She noted that his angular, handsome face was not the least marred by the