broke your heart?” she asked, automatically softening her tone as if she were working with one of the horses.
Instantly the vulnerable expression was gone, replaced by a teasing grin. “What makes you think someone broke my heart?”
“Mother says a person doesn’t get through life without some heartbreak. And you’ve lived so very, very long,” she said teasingly. “Surely there are skeletons in your closet.”
“Only on Halloween.”
“Isn’t there a saying in your country—no pain, no gain?”
“I think I’ve heard that one.” He shrugged. “Either I’m emotionally backward, or I’ve managed to gain without the pain part. What about you? Was your mother right? Have you had your heartbreak in the year-and-a-half you’ve been on this earth?”
“Cute. I’m not that young.” What she was was inexperienced, thanks to her brothers. Except for one single, painful episode. But a stampede of determined Texas mustangs couldn’t force her to share the details of that humiliation with him.
“From where I’m standing, you look hardly more than a baby.”
Her back started to rise at his comment, making her want to show him that she was a full-grown woman. Her next thought was that he’d turned the conversation away from himself and back to her. Interesting. The words were spoken in a joking manner, but she sensed currents of emotion in him. Had someone broken his heart? Or was his pain from something else? She instinctively knew that if she asked, he would put her off.
Instead she watched him, mostly his eyes, then noted the tension in his square jaw. Noted also that he was a very good-looking man, in an older, businessman sort of way. Her heart began to beat very fast, and she grew warm all over. She hadn’t felt this way but once, when she had been hardly more than a baby. Barely sixteen, she’d managed to elude her brothers long enough to develop a crush on a boy. The incident was a disaster.
But Dawson was a man—the first she’d ever been alone with as a woman. Surely that was the reason her body responded this way when she was near him. That, and the fact that she was ready to become a woman in every way. She’d been ready for a long time, but she had way too many brothers who took turns never letting their guard down. The explanation for her reaction to this man had to be that simple. Because Mr. Prescott was absolutely not her type.
But one thought struck her above everything else: her uncle Ryan’s comment about his “dynamite” employees. She had a feeling that if she wasn’t careful, this particular very male employee could light her fuse and blow up her whole world.
Two
Dawson helped Mattie set silverware and napkins on the table. When the microwave signaled that the food was warm, she grabbed a pot holder and took the plates to the table. They sat down at a right angle to each other, and she began to shovel food into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten for a month.
“Where’s the fire?” he asked.
“Pardon?” she answered. Her gray eyes—very pretty eyes he couldn’t help noticing—met his gaze. Then she resumed eating.
“You’re going to have indigestion if you don’t slow down.”
“No worries. I’ve got the constitution of an elephant.”
Not exactly the way he would describe her, Dawson thought ruefully. Those legs. He would bet every last penny of his considerable annual bonus that her gams were not thick and wrinkled and gray. If they were, he was sure the knot in his gut would disappear. Considering the size of that knot, he had a heck of a nerve warning her about indigestion. Or anything else for that matter.
He wished he’d never agreed to keep an eye on her. Even Ryan had questioned his excuse for dropping over tonight, but it was the best he could come up with. He had to be here to watch her. Long-distance baby-sitting wouldn’t cut it—Dawson didn’t do anything halfway. Besides, just before he’d left, Griff had reminded him that Clint Lockhart was still loose. He had escaped from prison and eluded all law enforcement efforts. The man had sworn revenge on the Fortunes, and was slippery as an eel. He’d already killed Ryan’s second wife Sophia—who knew what he might do next?
Dawson knew that being a Fortune made Mattie vulnerable to Clint. If anything happened to her because Dawson slacked off, he wouldn’t want to face her brother. But more important, he would never forgive himself.
Suddenly Mattie put her fork down, apparently finished. She stared at him. “Are you one of those anal-retentive people who chew each bite of food twenty-seven times?”
“No,” he said, staring at her. “But I don’t swallow it whole, either.”
“Wouldn’t have figured you for a slow eater. You strike me as the kind of man who has places to go, women to meet etcetera, etcetera.”
“Nope.”
“Really?” She nervously tapped her fingers on the table. “So no one is waiting for you at home?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
“Until you finish your dinner.” She rolled her eyes and heaved a huge sigh before glancing at the clock on the stove. She frowned. “You want to hurry it up?”
He looked at his watch. Eight o’clock. He got the feeling she was in a rush. “You going somewhere?”
“No,” she said with a breezy nonchalance that screamed liar. “But it’s getting late. I’ve heard if you eat too much too late at night, you’ll have nightmares. Your body can turn on you if you make it digest all that food when it’s supposed to be resting. Especially when you’re advanced in years. So if I were you, I’d quit eating before you regret it.”
Since when did she care about his digestion? Not only that, but she was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. What the heck was she up to? “Come clean, Mattie. Tell me what’s going on.”
Before she could answer, Lily Fortune walked into the kitchen.
Dawson envied Ryan. Lily was a lovely woman, and Dawson was glad the two had rekindled their love, which had begun when they were teenagers.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said.
“No worries,” Mattie answered.
“You’re not interrupting,” Dawson said at the same time.
The older woman smiled at him, then Mattie. “I just wanted to let you know that Willa’s already gone upstairs, and Ryan and I are going to make an early night of it, too. But please make yourselves at home.”
Dawson nodded. “Thanks.”
“One more thing.” Lily looked from Dawson to his fidgety dinner companion. “Mattie, I just remembered something.”
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow a group of schoolchildren are coming to the ranch on a field trip. I think the principal said they were eleven or twelve years old. They won a contest, and their prize is a day of horseback riding on the Double Crown.”
“Can’t
