stretched out in the recliner across the room, but he must have decided that making himself that comfortable in front of his guests would show bad manners.
The idea made Marcella feel even more like an intruder, but then, he’d given her little choice in the matter. Damn, damn, if her battery was going to die, why couldn’t it have done it back at the big ranch house? At least there she would have felt comfortable and welcome.
The rueful thought brought her up short and she mentally shamed herself. She and the boys were complete strangers to Denver Yates, yet he’d opened his home to them. She needed to be thinking grateful thoughts toward the man instead of wishing she was anywhere else but here.
It wasn’t his fault that his big, masculine presence was making her feel hot and bothered. Or that looking at his rugged face was sending very unladylike images through her head. And why would she be thinking about kissing a man, anyway? Men were nothing but trouble, and for the past ten years she’d made it just fine without one.
Sipping her coffee, she glanced at Harry and Peter. Both her sons’ attention was glued to the television screen. Since the music was building to a frantic crescendo and the last monster was about to meet his doom, the movie was clearly reaching the end.
She glanced over to Denver and was jolted by the fact that he was looking at her.
“Uh—do you watch much television?” She realized the question probably sounded inane to him, but this whole situation had knocked her off-kilter. No doubt tomorrow she’d look back on it and groan with embarrassment.
He said, “Not much. News. Weather. The farm and ranch report. Things like that.” His lips twisted to a wry slant. “I’m not big on entertainment. Guess my job gives me more than enough to think about.”
She smiled. “I’m sure you’ve heard the old adage about all work and no play.”
“Yeah. It makes a dull boy,” he said with a faint grin. “Sorry. I guess I am pretty boring.”
She clutched her coffee cup even tighter as she tried to keep from laughing. He was the furthest thing from boring that she could imagine. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d encountered a man who’d interested her as much as this big rancher.
“I wouldn’t say that. You’re not boring me.” Oh my, she sounded like a teenager instead of a thirty-three-year-old mother, she thought. Clearing her throat, she added, “I’m sure you and Rafe have plenty of exciting stories to tell. Were you with him and Bowie when the stallion got loose and ran off into the mountains?”
Surprise arched one of his brows. “You know about that?”
She nodded. “Lilly and Ava told me all about it. Rafe was black-and-blue from the spill he took when his horse fell.”
“I was helping with the hunt,” he said. “But I wasn’t riding in the area where Rafe fell. We were fortunate that only Rafe got hurt that night. The weather turned really nasty with snow and ice.”
“I don’t understand you ranchers. You’re always wanting lots of snow to put moisture and nitrates into the ground, but doesn’t that make terrible conditions for the cattle?”
“If the snow gets too deep it causes problems. Or if we have blizzard conditions. The worst case is when calves are being born in that sort of weather. We try to see that all of them make it. Unfortunately, we lose a few. Those are the times when the ranch hands might get an hour or two of sleep each night.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I could bear seeing a baby animal of any kind struggle.”
He looked straight at her, and Marcella found her gaze traveling over his chiseled features. Once they’d come into the house, he’d removed the black cowboy hat from his head. Now as the dim glow of a shaded lamp cast an orb of light over him, she noticed the thick wave falling over his forehead was the color of dark chocolate. The kind that was supposed to be good for your health, she thought wryly. She figured Denver would be just as tasty as a piece of dark chocolate. But good for her health? No, in her opinion, he looked like a massive heartache.
“I’m sure you see people struggling in the ER,” he said. “Animals are no different. They need help, and we cowboys do our best to give it to them. Just like you nurses do for people.”
“I wasn’t thinking of it in that way. But you’re right. Except that we nurses get to work under the best conditions,” she reasoned. “You ranchers are dealing with the raw elements.”
She felt a tug on her arm and glanced around to see Harry holding up the television remote. “The movie is over, Mom, and the stuff showing now is no good. Would you change the channel?”
“Excuse me,” she said to Denver, then turned her attention to finding some sort of program to hold the boys’ attention. After a moment, she parked the channel on a child-appropriate sitcom. “There. That’s the best I can do.”
“Aw, Mom, that’s goofy stuff for girls,” Peter complained.
“Yeah,” Harry seconded his brother. “We want to see cops and car chases.”
“Yeah,” Peter chimed in. “Or spaceships and laser fights.”
“Sorry, boys. Take it or leave it,” Marcella said firmly.
A pout came over Peter’s face and he looked to Denver for support. “I’ll bet when you were a kid you got to watch good stuff. Not boring stuff like giggling girls.”
Marcella watched Denver glance her way, before he turned his attention to Peter.
“Actually, I never watched much TV,” he said.
“You didn’t?” Harry asked, clearly mystified by the rancher’s statement. “What did you do? Play computer games?”
Denver chuckled and Marcella was struck by the sound. It was rich and warm and so pleasant she wished she could hear it again.
“No,” he answered Harry. “Back when I was your age, we didn’t have a computer at home. Or smartphones. Sometimes, when I went to town, I’d play video games with my friends.”
“You didn’t live in town?” Peter asked. “Where did you live? Here?”
He shook his head, and though Marcella knew she should scold the boys for asking personal questions, she was just as curious as they were about their unexpected rescuer.
“No. I lived on a ranch in Wyoming with my parents. I mostly stayed busy helping my dad with ranching chores. When I wasn’t doing that, I was riding horses or doing my homework.”
“Homework. Ugh!” Peter complained. “Nobody but bookworms likes that stuff.”
“Nobody wants to be dumb,” Denver reasoned. “And you need to do your homework to get smarter.”
“Me and Harry don’t have a dad,” Harry said with a shrug. “We just have Mom. She plays baseball with us. But she doesn’t know all that much about boy things. Like fishing. Do you know how to fish—for trout?”
“I’ve done a little fishing. Not much.”
Peter scooted to the edge
