spoken. The March night air was just about as effective as a brisk shower.
“You can’t expect to do your part and Nate’s.”
“He’ll be home by…” Ty shrugged. “Five or so.”
“In the morning?”
“Yeah. So that just leaves me three trips out there before breakfast.” He grinned. It sounded ridiculously masochistic when he said it that way.
“Then I’m going out.”
He tried to dissuade her, but it was no use. Finally, dressed for the elements, they wandered out side by side. He justifiedthis by telling himself that if she was going to take up the night watch, he’d have to show her what to look for.
The night was very still and very bright. The sky was clear with a three-quarters moon that shone on the melting snow like a huge chandelier.
Hannah drew the chill air deep into her lungs. There was a freshness here she had never before experienced. A peace, an acceptance. She shivered, filled with emotions she neither understood nor wished to analyze.
“You cold?”
“No.” She glanced at Ty, then shifted her gaze from his shadowed face to the pastures that fell away before them. “It’s very pretty here,” she said softly.
“Prettier than Boston?”
She turned back and raised her brows to stare into his downturned face. “I’m from Colorado,” she said.
He laughed. The sound shivered through her. “Oh, yeah. Here,” he said. Lifting one strand of barbed wire in a bare hand, he pressed the other down with his foot so she could scoot between them. “Watch your head.”
In a moment they were on the other side, but he stopped her now with a hand on her arm. Taking off her tweed cap, he unfolded the flap and placed it back on her head. “You gotta keep your ears covered,” he said. Their gazes met. Softness swirled around them.
But in an instant Ty cleared his throat and turned away.
“Didn’t your mom teach you anything?”
They walked side by side through the darkness, their hands shoved deep into their pockets. “Tell me, Tyrel Fox, are you always such a mother hen?” she asked.
He looked straight ahead. Fog rose in cool clouds in the dip before them. “Have you ever noticed that you evade every question I ask you?”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do.”
Through the fog, she could see clusters of cows lying on the snow-covered hills ahead of them. “Wouldn’t it be wiserto keep the cows inside if you know they’re going to deliver soon?”
“There’s not enough room for all of them. If we know they’re due we separate them and put them in the barn with the newborns. But they can be unpredictable, and you’re changing the subject again.”
“I am not.”
“The subject was your mother.”
“Speaking of mothers, when are your mares due?”
He stopped in his tracks and faced her. “You know my brother, my occupation, my address, my…” He paused, searching for more words. “Dammit, Hannah, you know everything but my hat size. Don’t you think you could trust me with…hell, I don’t know, your middle name or something?”
No, she couldn’t. But his voice had gone all soft and smoky again, curling in her insides. She looked away.
“It’s Ann.”
“Really?”
She grinned at the surprise in his tone. “What else would you like to know?”
The night was very quiet. Not a car, not a plane, not a whisper of wind could be heard.
“Anything,” he murmured. “Just give me anything.”
She turned back to him and felt her senses scramble. Beneath the shadow of his hat brim, his jaw looked as rugged and real as the land around them.
She jerked her gaze away, walking toward the herd again. In a few strides he caught up with her.
“She taught me which spoon to use for sorbet,” Hannah said.
“What?” He pulled her to a halt with a hand on her arm.
“That’s what Mother taught me,” she said, her voice almost inaudible to her own ears.
The moon was at his back and shone full on her face.
“Do you look like her?” he asked softly, unable, for
“You can’t expect to do your part and Nate’s.”
“He’ll be home by…” Ty shrugged. “Five or so.”
“In the morning?”
“Yeah. So that just leaves me three trips out there before breakfast.” He grinned. It sounded ridiculously masochistic when he said it that way.
“Then I’m going out.”
He tried to dissuade her, but it was no use. Finally, dressed for the elements, they wandered out side by side. He justifiedthis by telling himself that if she was going to take up the night watch, he’d have to show her what to look for.
The night was very still and very bright. The sky was clear with a three-quarters moon that shone on the melting snow like a huge chandelier.
Hannah drew the chill air deep into her lungs. There was a freshness here she had never before experienced. A peace, an acceptance. She shivered, filled with emotions she neither understood nor wished to analyze.
“You cold?”
“No.” She glanced at Ty, then shifted her gaze from his shadowed face to the pastures that fell away before them. “It’s very pretty here,” she said softly.
“Prettier than Boston?”
She turned back and raised her brows to stare into his downturned face. “I’m from Colorado,” she said.
He laughed. The sound shivered through her. “Oh, yeah. Here,” he said. Lifting one strand of barbed wire in a bare hand, he pressed the other down with his foot so she could scoot between them. “Watch your head.”
In a moment they were on the other side, but he stopped her now with a hand on her arm. Taking off her tweed cap, he unfolded the flap and placed it back on her head. “You gotta keep your ears covered,” he said. Their gazes met. Softness swirled around them.
But in an instant Ty cleared his throat and turned away.
“Didn’t your mom teach you anything?”
They walked side by side through the darkness, their hands shoved deep into their pockets. “Tell me, Tyrel Fox, are you always such a mother hen?” she asked.
He looked straight ahead. Fog rose in cool clouds in the dip before them. “Have you ever noticed that you evade every question I ask you?”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do.”
Through the fog, she could see clusters of cows lying on the snow-covered hills ahead of them. “Wouldn’t it be wiserto keep the cows inside if you know they’re going to deliver soon?”
“There’s not enough room for all of them. If we know they’re due we separate them and put them in the barn with the newborns. But they can be unpredictable, and you’re changing the subject again.”
“I am not.”
“The subject was your mother.”
“Speaking of mothers, when are your mares due?”
He stopped in his tracks and faced her. “You know my brother, my occupation, my address, my…” He paused, searching for more words. “Dammit, Hannah, you know everything but my hat size. Don’t you think you could trust me with…hell, I don’t know, your middle name or something?”
No, she couldn’t. But his voice had gone all soft and smoky again, curling in her insides. She looked away.
“It’s Ann.”
“Really?”
She grinned at the surprise in his tone. “What else would you like to know?”
The night was very quiet. Not a car, not a plane, not a whisper of wind could be heard.
“Anything,” he murmured. “Just give me anything.”
She turned back to him and felt her senses scramble. Beneath the shadow of his hat brim, his jaw looked as rugged and real as the land around them.
She jerked her gaze away, walking toward the herd again. In a few strides he caught up with her.
“She taught me which spoon to use for sorbet,” Hannah said.
“What?” He pulled her to a halt with a hand on her arm.
“That’s what Mother taught me,” she said, her voice almost inaudible to her own ears.
The moon was at his back and shone full on her face.
“Do you look like her?” he asked softly, unable, for
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