Colton Cowboy Protector. Beth Cornelison

privately or otherwise.

      She took a deep breath and nervously wet her lips. “Tracy McCain.”

      The name didn’t ring any bells, but when she extended her hand in greeting, he shook it.

      She added a shy smile, her porcelain cheeks flushing, and a stir of attraction tickled Jack deep inside. Hell, more than a stir. He gave her a leisurely scrutiny, sizing her up. She might be tall and thin, but she still had womanly curves to go with her delicate china-doll face. “Am I supposed to know you?”

      Her smile dropped. “Laura never mentioned me?”

      His ex-wife’s name instantly raised his hackles and his defenses. His eyes narrowed. “Not that I recall. How do you know Laura?”

      “I’m her cousin. Her maternal aunt’s daughter. From Colorado Springs.”

      Jack gritted his back teeth. Laura had been dead only a few months and already relations she’d never mentioned were crawling out of the woodwork like roaches after the light’s turned off. The allure of the Colton wealth had attracted more than one gold-digging pest over the years. “You should know, Laura signed an agreement when we divorced. She got a tidy settlement in place of any alimony. The agreement meant she gave up any further financial claim on Colton money or the Lucky C.”

      Tracy lifted her chin. “I’m aware.”

      “So you’re barking up the wrong tree, if you’re looking for cash.”

      Tracy blinked her pale blue eyes, and her expression shifted, hardened. “I’m not after money,” she said, with frost in her tone.

      Jack scratched his chin and tipped his head, giving her a skeptical glare. “Then what?”

      She waved a hand toward the house, then, as if realizing they’d have no more privacy inside than here by the pool, she frowned. “Is there someplace quiet we can talk?”

      Ten minutes ago, Jack had been dying for an excuse to ditch Abra’s party. Now he had the excuse he’d been looking for, but his gut told him he’d be no better off hearing Miss Blue Eyes out.

      “Fine.” He huffed an exasperated sigh and headed across the lawn, leaving her to follow or not. Her choice.

      The main house was a good distance from the stable, barn, bunkhouse and other outbuildings— two miles by the dirt road, a little less if you cut across fields and grassy lawns. He had driven one of the ranch’s utility vehicles over to the party, but some peevish rebellion in him decided to walk now. If Tracy wanted to talk to him, she could hoof it to the stable. Ninety-five degree Oklahoma heat and gravel road be damned.

      He walked too quickly for her to match his long-legged stride, but to her credit, she didn’t fall too far behind. As they neared the stable, cutting across a corner of one of the holding pens, he aimed a finger at one of the many cow patties, warning, “Watch your step.”

      She drew a quick breath and took a last-minute side step to avoid a pile. For what it was worth. Her modest brown dress pumps were caked in mud, the heels likely ruined by the gravel. Jack experienced a moment of compunction for her destroyed shoes, but he pushed it aside. She should have known better than to wear shoes like that to a ranch.

      He wiped sweat from his brow as he entered the shade of the stable, where large fans circulated the scents of manure, straw and leather in the stuffy alley between horse stalls. In a shady corner of an empty stall, their black barn cat, Sleek, napped between hunting expeditions. The family wanted Sleek to catch mice, which she did, but the feline seemed more interested in birds...and sneaking into the old ranch house to sleep on Seth’s bed when Jack wasn’t looking.

      Jack gave a pat to one of the mares, which stuck her nose out as he passed, then made his way to Buck’s stall. His buckskin gelding tossed his black mane when Jack opened the stall door and led him out.

      When Tracy caught up to him, she was breathing heavily and perspiration rolled down her face and neck. The fine, sweat-dampened hair around her temples and ears curled in sweet golden ringlets, and over the musty smell of the stable, a floral scent wafted to him with the fan’s breeze. The sweet aroma was completely out of place here, much like the woman wearing the perfume, and the heady scent made lust curl in his belly. Her stylish khaki slacks and simple print blouse were more suited to a boardroom than a tack room, and Tracy’s knitted brow as she scanned the horse stalls spoke for her uneasiness on his turf.

      He took a currycomb from a shelf and started grooming Buck. “You wanted privacy, you got it. So talk.”

      She let the messenger bag slide off her arm and thud onto a nearby bench. “There wasn’t anyplace...closer?” she panted.

      He shrugged. “Sure there was. But I figured if I could groom ole Buck while we talked, I could get a jump on my to-do list for the day.”

      And if he kept himself busy combing Buck, maybe he wouldn’t be as easily distracted by her lush lips and doe-like blue eyes. Her fragile, china-doll appearance made her seem vulnerable, and until he knew what she was after, Jack didn’t want to feel any weakness or sympathy toward her.

      She dabbed ineffectually at her damp cheeks and brow, then flapped the front of her blouse, trying to cool down. “Okay, so...I wanted to talk about Seth.”

      Jack tensed, his gut filling with acid. He squeezed the currycomb with a death grip and grated, “No.”

      “I... What do you mean, no? You haven’t even heard what I want to—”

      “I don’t need to hear. My son is off-limits. Nonnegotiable.” With an effort, Jack loosened his grip on the currycomb and continued stroking Buck’s beige hide.

      Tracy was silent for a moment, shifting her weight and swatting at a horsefly that was as drawn to her perfume as Jack was.

      “All I want is the opportunity to get to know my cousin’s son. I want Seth to know things about Laura that he might not know.”

      Jack shook his head and aimed the currycomb at Tracy. “He knows all he needs to know, and I won’t have you filling his head with information that will lead to questions best left alone, or truths about his mother that will only hurt him.”

      Tracy straightened her spine, her expression affronted. “I have no intention of hurting him. I... What would I say about his mother that would hurt Seth?”

      “The truth. She abandoned him when he was a baby.”

      “Abandoned?” Tracy chuffed a humorless laugh. “She did no such thing!”

      Jack paused from the grooming to face her, cocking his head. “Really? What would you call it?”

      “Laura loved Seth!” Tracy clapped a hand to her chest, pleading her case with wide, earnest eyes. “She did what she thought was best for him. She saw that he’d have a better life here on the Lucky C with you and your family than she could give him as an unemployed single mother. She never forgot a birthday, always sent Christmas presents—”

      He scoffed. “You can’t buy a kid’s affection. Presents are no substitute for being there.”

      “I know that. And...so did she.” Tracy looked at the ground as she said the last, not sounding at all sure of her claim.

      “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t give him her gifts or cards.”

      Tracy’s chin jerked up. “What? Why not?”

      “It would have only confused him.”

      Now she tilted her head to the side, her eyes suspicious. “Confused him why?”

      “I told Seth his mother died when he was a baby.”

      Tracy gasped in outrage.

      Jack turned back to Buck and patted the gelding’s neck. “I thought that would be easier for him to handle than knowing she chose to walk away.”

      “She didn’t— You shouldn’t—” Tracy sputtered.