The Rancher's Dance by Allison Leigh Page A

she held up the drawing. “Thank you so much for letting me have it.”
    Shelby smiled but it was nowhere near as bright as it had been.
    And despite the gaze she could feel coming from behind her, Lucy leaned down and kissed Shelby on the forehead. “I love it,” she whispered, “because I think it looks just like you and me.”
    Then she gave the little girl a wink and mentally girded herself to turn toward Beck.
    His expression was just as unsmiling as she’d expected. So naturally, she had to smile even more brightly in the face of it as she moved past him into the hallway.
    â€œWash your hands and brush your hair,” she heard Becktell Shelby behind her. “We’re meeting Grandpa in town for dinner and we’re leaving in a few minutes.”
    Lucy headed toward the stairs, pretty certain he’d added that last bit more for her benefit than his daughter’s. Even though it hurt like hell, she quickly descended. The last thing she wanted to do was prompt another display of his irritated—and unwelcome—chivalry.
    When she reached the foot of the stairs, he was already close behind her. The containers she’d brought were sitting on the foyer table and she wondered if the brownies would hit the trash the second she was out of sight. “Did you have a nice weekend with your son?”
    â€œYes.” He moved past her and pulled open the door.
    Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?
    She deliberately dawdled. “He fly out of Cheyenne?”
    â€œYes.”
    This was about as productive as conversing with a rock. “Are you working on the addition tomorrow?” she asked doggedly.
    His wide shoulders lifted in a sigh. He shifted and his big body seemed to nudge her an inch closer to the doorway even though he didn’t touch her at all. “Yes.”
    â€œIf you bring Shelby, I’d like to give her—”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œBeck, I’m only—”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter what you’re only. It’s not a good idea.”
    Her lips tightened. She glanced at the top of the stairs and saw no sign yet of his daughter. “Why not? Is it just me you object to,” she asked softly, “or all women?”
    A muscle in his jaw worked. His eyes looked pained. “Does it matter?”
    â€œIt does when it affects my friendship with Shelby.”
    His hand suddenly closed around her elbow, nudging heroutside onto that wide, beautiful porch. Then he closed the door behind them and released her like his hand had been burned. “My daughter doesn’t need friends like you.”
    Stung, she turned on him. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”
    His teeth came together for a moment. “I don’t mean you personally,” he said gruffly.
    She raised her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest, the oversized drawing dangling between her fingers. “Felt pretty personal.”
    â€œI’m just trying to protect Shelby. She doesn’t need people around who aren’t going to stick around.”
    Regret shadowed his eyes, and her irritation fizzled. She could recognize a protective father having grown up with one. “Are you sure you don’t mean you don’t need people around who aren’t going to stick around?” she asked softly.
    He frowned. “I’m protecting my daughter,” he said again. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d just stay out of something you know nothing about. Please,” he added raggedly when she opened her mouth to refute that.
    Feeling something ache inside, Lucy just looked up at him, but then the door swung inward to reveal Shelby clutching Gertrude by a long ear, and she swallowed whatever it was that churned inside her. “I know more than you think,” she managed huskily, and directed another reassuring smile at Shelby, whose gaze was bouncing warily between Lucy and Beck. “Enjoy your