Under His Protection. Linda Turner

chicken coop. Grinning, he motioned for her to precede him. “Ladies first.”

      Another woman would have told him to go to hell. Instead she said, “Stuff it,” and stepped through the door.

      That was as far as she got. Her gaze settled on the ten hens sitting on their nests, staring at her with wary eyes, and she couldn’t go any farther. John found himself sympathizing. The first time he’d had to gather eggs, he’d been more than a little terrified, himself. Of course, he’d hadn’t even been in school yet. Elizabeth was a long way from that.

      “Don’t let them scare you,” he said quietly. “Give me your hand.”

      She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Do I look like a fool?”

      “Far from it,” he chuckled. “Give me your hand, Elizabeth.” When she hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you. C’mon, just give me your hand.”

      Even as he said the words, he realized that she really had no reason to trust him. She barely knew him, and the fact that he was the Broken Arrow’s ranch foreman meant nothing. The last foreman not only blew up the ranch’s old Spanish mine, which had been lost for two hundred years before Buck and Rainey found it again, but he’d also tried to kill Rainey. John couldn’t blame Elizabeth for not trusting anyone in Colorado except her family. He’d have felt the same way if he’d been in her shoes.

      “I’m just going to show you how to handle the chickens,” he said quietly. “We may butt heads, and I may tease the hell out of you, but I don’t get my kicks hurting women. So if that’s what you’re afraid of—”

      “No!” she said too quickly, color stinging her cheeks. “I know that…. I didn’t mean to imply—”

      “Then give me your hand. If you’re going to be the boss…”

      He had her there and they both knew it. She glared at him, and he just barely suppressed a smile when she stepped forward and slapped her hand into his. Then his fingers closed around hers.

      Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t the heat that jumped from her hand to his. Frowning, he stared down at their joined hands. Why hadn’t he noticed how small and delicate her hands were? And her skin…could he ever in a million years have guessed how soft it was?

      “I realize you’ve probably never held a woman’s hand before,” she said dryly, “but you can’t keep mine. I’m sort of attached to it.”

      Suddenly jerked back to his surrounding, he glanced up abruptly and found her watching him with a wry glint in her blue eyes. Caught red-handed, he was shocked to feel himself blush. “I can see why you would be,” he quipped, releasing her. “It’s a nice hand. Soft. Not used to a lot of work.”

      “There you go again,” she sighed. “Just when I thought I could like you—”

      “I opened my mouth and ruined it,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’re about to toughen you up. First, we’ll start with the chickens and then move on to riding and roping and riding fence. So go ahead…get an egg.”

      Elizabeth couldn’t believe he was serious. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

      “By putting your hand under the hen,” he said patiently. “Just reach under her and grab an egg.”

      He made it sound so simple. If she hadn’t dreaded the thought of acting like even more of a coward in front of him, she would have put her hand behind her back like a scared little girl. Instead she lifted her chin and stepped forward with the confidence of a woman who’d been collecting eggs all her life. The hen took one look at her and decided she meant business. She didn’t so much as ruffle a feather as Elizabeth stole an egg from her.

      It wasn’t until she saw the egg in her hand that Elizabeth realized what she’d done. Shocked, she laughed, “Oh, my God! I did it!”

      Delighted with herself, she was practically glowing, and John couldn’t take his eyes off her. He tried to convince himself that she was a snotty, snippy Englishwoman who was far too bossy for his taste, but he had to admit that she had guts. She clearly had a fear of chickens, but not only had she not admitted that, but she’d accepted his dare in spite of it. How could he dislike a woman like that? Especially when she was so damn beautiful? When she laughed, her whole face lit up. And he’d never been able to resist a woman who liked to laugh.

      You’d better start resisting her, the voice of reason drawled in his head. She’s the boss’s sister. How do you think Buck would feel if he knew you had the hots for his sister?

      He didn’t have an answer for that, didn’t even want to go there. He needed his job and he wasn’t risking it for Elizabeth Wyatt or any other woman. All he wanted to do was work and get on with his life. That wasn’t a hell of a lot to ask.

      Then why, he wondered, did he have such a difficult time remembering the woman was off-limits? Okay, so she was beautiful. Her skin was like cream, and when she smiled, he felt the punch of it right in his gut. But he wasn’t looking for a woman, and even if he had been, she was the last woman on earth he would have chosen. Not only did she have the power to sign his paycheck, she also had no intention of living in Colorado, or the United States, for that matter. As soon as Buck returned from his honeymoon, she’d return to England. That’s where her life was…and, no doubt, the man she was currently involved with.

      And there was a man, he thought grimly. There had to be—a woman with her looks and class didn’t go through life alone. Not unless the men in England were idiots, and he didn’t think that was the case.

      So why are you standing here, staring at her like she just stepped out of some crazy fantasy? Get the hell out of here and get back to work!

      Blinking as if he’d just stepped out of a fog, he took a quick step back. “That’s all there is to it,” he said coolly. “Grab one of the buckets by the door and just start collecting eggs.”

      “Then what?”

      “Take them to the house and rinse them off, then dry them and store them in the refrigerator. If you have any problems, I’ll be in the shop working on the tractor. I’ve got to start planting by the end of the week—”

      “Planting? You farm?”

      He nodded. “We plant alfalfa in the lower pastures below the tree line. And if I don’t get it in soon, the crop will come in late and we’ll be lucky if we cut the fields before the first snowfall. I’d better get back to the tractor. Call if you need help.”

      He strode out with nothing more than a wave, leaving Elizabeth with the chickens. Given her druthers, she would have turned and followed John out, but she knew he was right. This was as much her ranch as it was her brother and sisters’ and she needed to know how every phase of the place operated. Her heart thumping, her jaw set at a determined angle, she approached the next chicken with a glint in her eye that warned her she was going to be Sunday dinner if she so much as squawked. She didn’t.

      When she didn’t see John for the rest of the afternoon, Elizabeth told herself it was probably for the best. He was an employee, and he was the type of man who wouldn’t ever let her forget that. Not that she wanted to, she reminded herself grimly. Spencer’s betrayal was still fresh in her mind and heart and probably would be for a long time.

      The quickest way to get over one man is to find another.

      She winced at the old adage. No. No. No! She wasn’t going there, wasn’t even going to consider it. If she knew nothing else about John Cassidy, she knew he wasn’t the kind of man a woman walked away from easily. Buck and Rainey would be back from their honeymoon in a month, and she didn’t know where she would be after that. Colorado? London? Maybe even California or New York. It all depended on where she decided to open her shop. Wherever it was, she wasn’t leaving her heart behind.

      The matter settled, she spent the rest of the day in Buck’s office, acquainting herself with what it took to run