“Keep hope alive.” Jesse swung down from his horse, handed the reins over to Carlos who would get the horses cooled down and stabled. Being out with the men, focusing on the work of keeping such a big ranch running well cleared his mind, gave him peace—however briefly. It wiped away worries about Will, guilt over Lucy and Brody and even numbed the thoughts of Jillian that were now almost constant. Now that he was back, work over for the day, he knew she would crowd his mind again and there was no way to stop it. No way to pretend he didn’t enjoy it.
Scowling a little, he told Carlos, “I’ll be by later to check on Dancer.”
The mare was close to delivering her foal, and Jesse wanted to make sure everything was as it should be. He knew the local vet, Scarlett McKittrick, could be here in fifteen minutes if he needed her help, but chances were good Dancer would manage the labor and birth on her own as horses had been doing for millennia.
“I think it’ll be much later, boss.” Carlos looked past Jesse and nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Looks like you’ve got some company.”
Jesse turned and felt a hard punch slam into his chest. A hell of a lot of good it did him trying to put her out of his mind when she could show up out of nowhere and knock him off his feet. Jillian stood there beside that beat-up Honda of hers, holding what looked to be a foil-covered plate. Not that he cared what she was holding. He just liked looking at her.
Jesse had seen Mac with Brody earlier and had known that sooner or later, the little girl’s mother would be arriving to get her. And right now, he was glad as hell he’d come in from the pasture when he had. Otherwise he might have missed her.
When that thought settled in, Jesse frowned to himself. He didn’t like that he cared whether or not he saw the woman, but the feeling was there whether he wanted to admit it or not. But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Instead, he filled his gaze with the woman who was driving him nuts lately.
Her long blond hair was in the ever-present ponytail that was beginning to really get to him. Nothing he wanted more than to free all that hair and run his fingers through it, watch it frame her face. He wanted to know how long it was, and how it looked lying against her bare skin.
She wore a dark red shirt, blue jeans, and stylish boots. With the hard wind blowing, the ends of her hair lifted and twisted as if dancing.
As he walked toward her, he watched her wide mouth curve into a smile that set a fire in the pit of his belly. It took everything he had to keep from giving in to the urge to grab hold of her and finally taste that mouth.
“You won.” She shook a few windblown tendrils of hair out of her face and looked up into his eyes.
“Yeah.” He grinned and tossed a look over his shoulder to where Carlos was leading the horses toward the barn. “This time anyway. You here to pick up Mac?”
“Yes,” she said, “but I wanted to see you first.”
Interesting. “Why’s that?”
“I wanted to thank you,” she said, holding out the foil-covered plate. “You’ve been so good to Mac, letting her ride the horses she loves. Helping me find that apartment—”
“Don’t thank me for that.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe you wanted to stay in that grim little place.”
She laughed. “The apartment’s fine and I appreciate it.”
Frowning a little, he said, “Either way, you don’t have to thank me.”
“I already have.” She was still holding the plate out, so Jesse took it.
“Heavy.”
“Glass pie plate,” she said.
“Pie?” Both eyebrows winged up. “You bought me a pie?”
“I didn’t buy it,” she told him, slightly insulted. “I made it. And I want that pie plate back when you’re finished.”
“Really?” He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had given him anything, let alone something she’d taken the time and trouble to make herself. Pleasure shone in her eyes, and Jesse thought she just kept getting more beautiful. Then, pushing that stray thought aside, he lifted the edge of the foil and briefly looked at the golden crust before carefully covering the pie again. “What kind is it?”
She took a deep breath, tucked her hands into her pockets and said, “It’s my specialty. Spiced cherry.”
He looked into her eyes. “You have a specialty?”
“I do and you’ll love it.”
“Sounds good.”
She met his gaze. “It’s better than good.”
Looking into those smoky green eyes of hers, Jesse felt another twist of heat down low in his gut. It wasn’t pie he was thinking of now. He had a feeling that if he ever got his hands on her she would be better than good, too.