Clayton smiled. “Are you afraid of me?”

Lucy trembled involuntarily as his low, sexy drawl skittered up her spine. She tried to ignore the sensation, meeting his gaze with what she hoped was a withering glare.

“In your dreams,” she retorted.

“Oh, you’ll be there,” Clayton replied easily. “I’m going to be seeing a lot of you, Lucy Warner.” He reached out and, soft as a whisper, stroked her cheek, mesmerized by the silkiness he met and by the way she became immobile with…

What was that in her eyes? Panic?

Clayton backed away, realizing he’d have to go very slowly with this particular woman.

“It won’t matter if you hide behind your kids and try to avoid me,” he said gently. “I plan to get close to you, and we’re going to be good together—that’s a promise.”

He grinned his sexy grin. “And a McKinley always keeps his promises.”

Dear Reader,

Get Caught Reading. It sounds slightly scandalous, romantic and definitely exciting! I love to get lost in a book, and this month we’re joining the campaign to encourage reading everywhere. Share your favorite books with your partner, your child, your friends. And be sure to get caught reading yourself!

The popular ROYALLY WED series continues with Valerie Parv’s Code Name: Prince. King Michael is still missing—but there’s a plan to rescue him! In Quinn’s Complete Seduction Sandra Steffen returns to BACHELOR GULCH, where Crystal finally finds what she’s been searching for—and more….

Chance’s Joy launches Patricia Thayer’s exciting new miniseries, THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD. In the first story, Chance Randell wants to buy his lovely neighbor’s land, but hadn’t bargained for a wife and baby! In McKinley’s Miracle, talented Mary Kate Holder debuts with the story of a rugged Australian rancher who meets his match.

Susan Meier is sure to please with Marrying Money, in which a small-town beautician makes a rich man rethink his reasons for refusing love. And Myrna Mackenzie gives us The Billionaire Is Back, in which a wealthy playboy fights a strong attraction to his pregnant, single cook!

Come back next month for the triumphant conclusion to ROYALLY WED and more wonderful stories by Patricia Thayer and Myrna Mackenzie. Silhouette Romance always gives you stories that will touch your emotions and carry you away….

Be sure to Get Caught Reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

McKinley’s Miracle
Mary Kate Holder

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my parents, Henry and Mary Holder, who taught me

that anything is possible and whose love and support

lifted me high enough to touch my dream.

MARY KATE HOLDER

has lived all her life in Cowra, central eastern New South Wales. Though romance writing takes up a lot of her time, she also finds pleasure in cross-stitch, cooking, drawing and finding homes for stray animals. She resides with two dogs and two cats, who all guard their own part of the house diligently and would probably complain about her love of country music played often and loud…if they could speak. Though she enjoys the peace and quiet of country life, this hasn’t cured her of the travel bug, and she hopes to be setting off very soon to travel overseas.

Dear Reader,

I have always loved words, their power, their splendor, the depths of emotion they can stir. But when I received the call from Silhouette telling me they wanted to buy my novel, I could not find words to describe how it felt. How does one describe a dream come true? Eight years ago I sat down to write a romance novel and began a long journey filled with many lessons. Along the way I had the support of my parents, family, friends and authors I loved to read who were never too busy to write back to me with words of encouragement and advice. I hope you enjoy reading about Clayton and Lucy. Writing their story was a joy for me, and being able to share it with you is a wonderful feeling. To me happy endings are like dreams. They become impossible only when we stop reaching for them.

Best wishes,

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter One

Clayton McKinley was about to order his second beer when the door to the Roadhouse opened and she walked in. He hadn’t seen her around before, but in Cable Creek, Australia, there were no strangers, just people you hadn’t met. She made her way slowly through the crowd. She was dressed to blend in. Tennis shoes. Blue jeans. Grey sweatshirt. Hair pulled into a ponytail. But the shoes were worn and old. The jeans were faded and snug, drawing his attention to her slim hips and shapely curves. The sweatshirt skimmed high, rounded breasts, the sleeves pushed almost to her elbows. The clip holding her chestnut hair in place was plain gold. She stopped suddenly, her hands drawn into fists at her sides. Seconds later she moved with lightning speed toward the bar. He watched, every muscle in his body tense and alert, a second beer forgotten as she squared her shoulders and walked right up to the meanest man in town.

“Gerry Anderson?”

Around them everything stopped, a testament to the anger in her voice and the unabashed curiosity of the Saturday-night patrons. Someone pulled the plug on the jukebox. Conversations fell to whispers and then ceased altogether. Every eye in the place was on the slender five-foot-three woman and the burly six-foot man she faced. Gerry turned around, dismissing her with a smirk. Clayton counted that as his first mistake.

“You got the name right, sweetie. What can I do for you?”

She stepped closer to her colossal opponent not even sparing a glance for the two men flanking him. “This is about what I will do to you the next time you bully one of my children.”

Gerry laughed. “Your kids? I heard they were strays nobody else wanted.” He shook his head. “You should go back where you came from. We don’t want your kind here.”

She pinned him with a look that could have laid ice on the Simpson Desert in the middle of summer. “They are under my care, Mr. Anderson. That makes them my children. Max is just thirteen years old and thanks to you he spent the last two hours in the emergency ward.”

For the first time since she’d spoken his name, Gerry looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You deliberately drove your car onto the shoulder of the road, kicking up the loose gravel. It frightened the boy’s horse so badly he was thrown.”

Her words sparked a simmering anger in Clayton. Gerry had a mile-wide mean streak, but picking on a child was a low act. He thought of his niece, at home safe in her bed. If it had been Molly on that horse Gerry would be the one in the emergency room.

Gerry smiled. “You got no proof it was me.”

“I don’t know of anyone else in this town with the license plate STUD or the arrogance that goes along with it.”

He turned back toward the bar. Clayton counted that as his second mistake. “Damn kid’s lyin’ through his teeth. I wasn’t even there.”

“You’re a coward.”

Her words dropped into the silence with the impact of an unexploded bomb. Gerry turned back to her, pure venom in his eyes. Clayton pushed slowly to his feet.

“Don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish, missy.”

“My name is Lucy Warner, not missy.”

Clayton did a double take. This was his new neighbour? His first thought was that she looked at least ten years younger than the twenty-five he knew her to be. His second thought was that he wanted to get to know her…a lot better.

“And calling that boy a liar makes you a coward. If I’d been there you would have been going to the hospital on life support.”

Someone chuckled. Another brave soul clapped. Most however seemed content to watch the showdown with undisguised interest. Gerry glanced at his mates and laughed, but Clayton watched his fist close in rage. Raising a hand to her would be Gerry’s last mistake of the night. Clayton would make damn sure of it.

“Some kid can’t handle himself on a horse and you blame me? Just go back to the city where you belong and take those delinquents with you.”

Lucy seemed unimpressed. “Why? Because if I don’t you’ll bully me too?”

Gerry shrugged. “All kinds of things can happen to a woman out here.”

“You might think you’re a tough guy in this town, Mr. Anderson, and maybe picking on children is what it takes to make you feel like a man,” she taunted, raising herself to her full height, squaring her shoulders, her chin high. “But the next time you see one of my children minding their own business you’d better do the same.”

When she turned, the crowd parted like the Red Sea before her. Someone whistled encouragement as she walked to the door. On the threshold she looked back and glared at him. “This is the only warning you get, Mr. Anderson. Leave us alone.”

Lucy had been this angry at least once in her life before tonight. Right now she couldn’t remember it though. Blind fury had pushed her into the pub. Pure adrenaline had fueled her words and dignity had enabled her to walk out.

She didn’t remember getting in her car or turning onto the road, leaving the brightly lit hotel car park behind. Now in the darkness, her adrenaline level dropped and Lucy began to tremble. Never in her life had she raised a hand to anyone, man or woman, but Gerry had tempted her. The smug look on his face. The arrogance in his eyes. The crack he’d made about the children being strays. Physically she would have been out of her depth with him. Words had been her only weapon.

According to Gray Harrison, most people here were good, honest folk. They believed in hard work and simple living and had community spirit, that small-town sense of rallying together to help each other in times of crisis. She deferred to Gray’s judgement on that. He’d grown up here after all.

The first time Lucy had set eyes on the farmhouse she had known this was where the dream was meant to take shape. At times it still seemed impossible to her that the journey she had started for Megan had brought her this far. It had started out as a promise, the only way Lucy could think to make up to her sister all she had denied Megan in one moment of recklessness.

Being a foster mother and having a degree in social welfare had given her credibility to get the project off the ground. Gray’s friendship and the sponsorship of his corporation had sealed it for her. Now it was a reality. A place for troubled teens to find a life away from the streets. Streets that sucked their young lives away. Her own years of experience dealing with troubled street kids had shown her a side to life no child should ever know. The idea for the farm had been her sister’s long-cherished dream and now it was within reach. Lucy wasn’t about to let Gerry Anderson or anyone like him stand in her way.

Though she was only recognized as foster mother to Katie and Max, the powers that be had allowed her guardianship of the two older kids also. To the bureaucrats this was an experiment and Lucy had to succeed so more kids could be given the chance to come here.

She was so lost in thought that when the car began to jerk, her hands tightened on the steering wheel. When it began to sputter, Lucy pulled off the road, and before she could turn off the engine the car died. She reached across into the glove box and found the small torch she’d tucked in there for emergencies. Alone on a dark, lonely stretch of highway, Lucy looked at the fuel gauge and uttered a curse into the night.

Clayton left the roadhouse twenty minutes after Lucy and had driven barely a mile when he spotted the vehicle off to the shoulder of the road, its hazard lights blinking in the darkness. He dimmed his lights and slowed, pulling in behind. Before he turned off his engine, the driver’s door opened and the occupant rushed up to his car. Lucy Warner stood there in the cold wind of an August night. Clayton opened his door and got out. “You really shouldn’t approach a strange vehicle on a lonely road.”

Lucy didn’t hear censure in his voice, just old-fashioned concern. In the glare of his headlights she could make out his strong build. The hat he wore, an Aussie akubra, shadowed his face and her curiosity slipped up a notch.

“It was either stop someone or spend the night here,” she said. “I prefer a bed to the back seat of a car. When you pulled up, I figured I’d take my chances.”

Clayton pushed his hat back just slightly. He preferred a bed to the back seat as well but he didn’t think they knew each other well enough for that discussion. “And if I were someone planning to do you harm?”

Lucy stiffened her backbone and lifted her chin. The thought hadn’t occurred to her…but it did now. Gerry hadn’t been alone at the pub. What if this man was one of his cronies?

“Then the self-defence classes I took a few years back would be put to the test.” He was a big man, broad across the shoulders and at least six feet tall. All the defensive positions in the world would not have saved her if he’d intended to do her harm. She thought she heard him chuckle as he walked to her car.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss Warner?”

Fear slid its icy fingers down her spine. “How do you know my name?”

“You kind of introduced yourself back at the Roadhouse. I’m Clayton McKinley, your neighbour at Cable Downs.”

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Any relation to the local vet?”

“He’s my big brother,” he replied, pride accompanying the words. “One of them anyway.”

Lucy had met Joshua McKinley a week after her arrival. He’d seemed a reserved man with kind eyes. Instinct told her reserved was not a word that would apply to his younger brother.

“Thanks for stopping.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Lucy didn’t imagine the slight coaxing tone his baritone voice had taken on with those three words. This man’s pleasures weren’t something she wanted to poke her nose into. “You don’t happen to be a friend of Gerry Anderson do you?”

“I’d rather have no friends if Gerry was the alternative. Loudmouthed bullies with more brawn than brain deserve everything they eventually get.”

“Then there must be a huge fall somewhere in his future.”

“I’d bet on it.” He looked toward the vehicle. “So what’s wrong with your car?”

“Everything, according to the mechanic who serviced it last,” she said, glancing at the car. “He said if it were a horse he’d have it shot. For now I’m merely out of petrol and wondering if it can get any colder.”

“Oh sure it can,” he said easily. “There’s nothing like an Australian winter to test your mettle. Get in my truck and put the heater on. You’ll be warm in no time.”

The offer was tempting…far too tempting. “That won’t be necessary. If you have a mobile phone I can call the garage and get Rick to bring some fuel out.”

Clayton smiled to himself. He couldn’t really blame her for being so careful. He’d just warned her about strangers after all. Still, her reply sounded more prickly than cautious. He’d known prickly women before—hell, he’d known all kinds of women before. Every day since he’d hit puberty women had fascinated him. The fact that he would never understand any woman if he lived to be a hundred only intrigued him more.

“Sorry, no mobile phone.”

Lucy couldn’t hide her surprise. “Everyone and his dog has a mobile telephone these days.”

Clayton grinned and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Well, my dog and I do just fine without one,” he told her. “And where’s yours?”

“At home,” she said, wishing she’d never even asked him about the damn phone. Walking to the garage would have been less frustrating. Usually she didn’t go anywhere without the mobile, but she hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly when she’d stormed out of the house an hour ago. She’d kept her calm while at the emergency room, but once Max was home safe she’d needed to blow off steam.

“I’ve got a can of fuel in the back of the truck. I’ll put it in your car and follow you to the truck stop. That saves you getting a ride back out here.”

Lucy liked doing things for herself. But she wanted to get home to Max, and Clayton was offering a solution to her problem.

“Thanks. I’ll pay you for the fuel when we get to the station and I get change.”

“Forget it.”

“I don’t like accepting charity.”

“Lady, it’s a couple of dollars’ worth of fuel. Out here that isn’t charity. It’s simply being neighbourly.”

“I still intend to pay you.”

Clayton shrugged. “You can try.”

Lucy hugged herself against the chill and glanced up to see him shrugging out of the coat he wore. He held the garment out to her. “Put this on.” She made no move to take it. “Either put it on or get in the truck.”

“And when you freeze to a solid block of ice, what am I supposed to do with you?”

Clayton liked her irritation. He might have to take the long way around to get past her defences but he had a keen sense of direction. “I don’t think I’m in any danger, but if it happens you take me back to your place, thaw me out and be gentle about it. What we do after that is up to you, since I’ll be at your mercy.”

She scowled. “This is serious. Think hypothermia. Frostbite. Pneumonia!”

“If I promise not to die, will you put the coat on?” She hesitated. “Listen, you’ve got kids waiting at home. The sooner you put this on, the sooner I can fuel up your car and we can get moving.”

Lucy couldn’t decide what she hated more—the fact that he’d made a very valid point or the confident tone of his voice. She took the coat from him. Nothing she said would make an ounce of difference and she did want to get home. She shrugged into the lambswool coat, its fleecy lining warm from his body heat. It hung to her knees, but right now keeping warm took precedence over style.

Clayton walked to the back of his vehicle. Retrieving the fuel can and a plastic funnel, he came back around to where she stood. In the beam of his headlights he bent down to the task at hand.

“The boy Gerry hurt, will he be all right?”

The question didn’t surprise Lucy. The genuine concern that accompanied it did. “He’ll be stiff and sore for a few days.”

“Joshua said you’ve got four kids living out here with you.”

“Well, Thomas doesn’t like to be called a kid but yes.”

Clayton let the fuel can drain to the last drop then put the lid on it and capped the petrol tank. He closed the latch and pushed to his feet. “Don’t let Gerry get to you.”

Lucy buried her hands in the pockets of his coat. “We’ve done nothing to him.”

“Your problem is that he made a bid on the house you’re living in. He wasn’t overjoyed when Gray decided to rent it out.”

“That place was meant for a family. Gerry hardly strikes me as the home-and-hearth type. What woman would have him?”

“None around here, but your place has some of the best grazing land and it borders Anderson Farms at the southernmost boundary where the creek runs through it.”

“No wonder he wants me gone.”

“There is an upside to this.”

“And that would be?”

“We’re not all like Gerry. His kind are a very small minority around here.”

“You know him pretty well I take it?”

“He’s lived here all his life. He likes to drink, pick fights and big note himself, not always in that order. He even did it at school.”

“Well, he’ll find himself in the hospital if he doesn’t heed my warning and leave us alone.”

Clayton understood her protective nature. “Just watch your back. I doubt Gerry’s ever had a woman stand up to him…and in public.”

Lucy had known men like him before who bullied those weaker than themselves. “Thanks for the warning.”

“See if the car starts.” He stashed the funnel and empty can back in his truck, and by the time he reached her door the engine was idling. “You take off. I’ll be right behind you.”

Clayton walked back to his vehicle before she could offer the protest he anticipated and waited for her to pull onto the road before he started his truck and followed. He’d been busy on the farm this past month and hadn’t found time to socialize, but he recalled Josh saying he’d had a call out to the Harrison farm. His brother had forgotten to mention just how pretty the new tenant was. And she had courage…either that or she’d let her anger get the better of her a while ago and hadn’t stopped to think about what she was doing. He thought of how protective he and his brothers were of Molly. If Gerry had considered Lucy as an easy target, one he could intimidate into leaving, he’d just gotten a wake-up call.

When word had spread around town that Alma Harrison’s rambling, two-story house had been snapped up, the fear of big development was rife. Lucy Warner arrived a few weeks ago and replaced that fear of change with a fear of the unknown. In less than a day it seemed everyone far and wide knew of her plans to make it a home for kids who needed a new start, children who had nowhere else to go.

Clayton and his brothers had backed the idea from the beginning, and though a portion of the townsfolk had initially shied away from what they didn’t understand, most people now took the view of live and let live. Except for Gerry.

When Lucy indicated, Clayton slowed his vehicle and followed her into the well-lit service station.

Lucy pulled up beside the petrol pump and cut the engine. She got out and handed the keys to the attendant with a polite “Fill her up.” Walking back to where Clayton had parked, she stopped several feet from his truck. He walked toward her.

She’d known he would be as good-looking as his brother. Now beneath fluorescent lights the full impact of Clayton McKinley hit her head-on. He stood two inches over six feet and had a confident, loose-hipped stride. He walked with an easy grace, as though time would wait for him. Lucy had no doubt if he smiled and asked nicely enough it would. Blue jeans clung to him like a second skin and dusty brown boots crunched with defiance over the gravel as he came toward her. His hair was dark blond and cut short on his neck. His eyes were peacock blue and sparkled with a wicked hint of mischief. Clayton McKinley was the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about. The kind fathers had nightmares about. She would always look back on this as one of them. She almost felt like a schoolgirl again. Her palms were suddenly sweaty. Breathing was something she had to think about doing and for the first time in a long time, long dormant emotions began to awaken inside her.

Dragging her eyes away from him she began to shrug out of his jacket, loath to give up the warmth.

“Don’t even think about it, lady.”

Lucy glared at him as the command rolled seductively off his tongue. “I don’t respond well to orders.”

“No kidding,” he teased, his lips sliding into an easy smile. Not a generic smile. Oh, no! This was a knee-weakening, heart-melting, pulse-pounding smile. This man was dangerous in ways there were no defences for.

“Don’t even think of handing the coat back just yet. And arguing with me won’t do you any good.”

She looked cute swallowed up by his jacket. A small-boned woman, she stirred his protective instincts, and her subtle hourglass shape banished from his mind every stick-thin woman he’d ever dated. Her skin was pale and unblemished, her cheekbones high, her face softly rounded. Her lips were full and naturally pink and had him wondering if they were as sweet as they looked. With her hair pulled into a ponytail she looked about sixteen and more tempting than sin. From the moment she’d turned away in the bar, he’d wondered what colour her eyes were. Now he had his answer. The colour reminded him of fine malt whiskey. They were wide and expressive, guarding a keen intelligence.

Lucy pulled the coat back over her shoulders and tried to ignore the intensity of his watchful gaze. It felt as though he was committing her to memory pore by pore. She refused to be intimidated by his blatant appraisal and motioned to the shop that formed part of the service station.

“I’ve got to get a few things.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Lucy looked up at him. “You think I’m going to get lost between produce and dairy?”

“I’m having fun.” His smile was powerful. His eyes roamed over her from head to toe then made the return journey with lazy intent. Prickles of sensation skittered through her body, skating over nerve endings.

“If grocery shopping is your idea of fun then you must lead a boring life.” She said nothing when he fell into step beside her, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“How did you know Gerry would be at the Roadhouse?”

Lucy entered the shop and picked up a plastic carry basket. She took a loaf of bread from the shelf. “I didn’t. Max said the bloke had a bunch of prissy cowboys—his words not mine—in the car with him. The Roadhouse is the place to be on a Saturday night. I took a chance.”

“Prissy cowboys?” he repeated, amused. “Now, if you’d laid that one on Gerry he would have died of embarrassment.”

She took down a box of chocolate pops, putting them into the basket. “Harrison House is going to be a success.”

“That’s what you’re calling it?”

She nodded and continued down the aisle. “We took a vote. The kids decided since Mrs. Harrison’s son donated it specifically to be used for the Second Chance project, the name was appropriate. The developers were offering a king’s ransom but he didn’t want it torn down.”

“Gray Harrison did that for you?”

She met his look with a forthright one of her own. “Yes, he did. He figured the kids needed something to work for…a goal. Getting the farm up and running again will give them incentive. Gray has been our guardian angel.”

Clayton found it hard to picture Gray Harrison with wings and a halo. Cable Creek had never been big enough for him. He had outgrown the town long before he’d had the means to leave. Now a major player in Australian financial circles, he had a reputation as a ruthless businessman who guarded his private life fiercely. But none of that mattered to Clayton. All he could think about was what put that soft smile on her face when she spoke the other man’s name.

Lucy filled the basket with orange juice, peanut butter and milk before heading for the checkout. When the cashier was finished packing the groceries, Clayton picked up the plastic bag and waited by the door while Lucy paid for both food and fuel. The attendant met them on the way out.

“All done,” he said, handing her keys back. Lucy thanked him. Clayton walked her to the car, handing her the bag after she got in behind the wheel. She took it from him with a murmured “thanks” and placed it on the passenger seat. He knelt at her door, his face level with hers.

“Oh, your coat.”

“Forget it. I’m following you home.”

Lucy glared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He grinned. “It’s on my way and I’d like to know you get there safely.”

Did he think she was going to be abducted by aliens between here and there? Lucy bit back the retort. “You don’t intend to take money for the fuel, do you, Mr. McKinley?”

“Not for doing the neighbourly thing. And nobody calls me ‘mister.’ Clayton’s fine. But if you really don’t want to be in my debt, I’ll settle for a cup of coffee.”

“I doubt there’s anyplace open this time of night, and I noticed the machine in the shop was out of order. Would you take a rain check.”

“I’m guessing you own a coffeepot.”

“You want coffee…at my house?” She did owe him something for helping her out. He could easily have kept going, leaving her stranded. Lucy wished he would be mercenary and just take her money. “It’s well after midnight.”

“I’ll drink it fast.”

“The kids are sleeping.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be extra quiet.”

Subtle wasn’t going to work with this man. “I might want to go to bed.”

Clayton smiled. “Well, I’m usually not that easy on a first date but I could be persuaded.”

Lucy blushed, annoyed as much at herself as him. She’d walked right into that one. “I meant I might want to go to bed…alone…to sleep,” she said firmly. “And this isn’t a date.”

He looked as if he’d made a major new discovery. “So that’s the other thing people do in bed.”

Lucy steeled herself as he smiled again. If he would stop doing that maybe she could concentrate on the conversation and keep herself out of trouble. If she kept this up, she’d be in more hot water than she had ever known.

“One cup, McKinley.”

McKinley. Not Clayton. Just McKinley. Polite yet formal. Something that allowed her to keep her distance. Clayton smiled. It would do for now.

“I accept, and remember, I’ll be right behind you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered to herself. She watched in the rearview mirror, studying his compact backside with female appreciation as he walked away. One cup of coffee, she told herself. Then he would leave, if she had to push his gorgeous body and that come-get-me grin out the door.

Chapter Two

At the house he met her on the veranda steps. Once inside she left the groceries on the couch and excused herself to go check on Max. Clayton was left to close the door behind him. He took off his hat, almost able to hear Mrs. Harrison reprimanding him for such a breach of etiquette in her home. This house was like an old friend. He hadn’t been inside in years but the memories came flooding back. The sleepovers and camping trips. The fishing expeditions and the carefree weekends spent helping Gray’s grandfather build the tree house in the backyard. Those days seemed a lifetime ago now.

Lucy came back downstairs, her jaw clenched.

“Everything okay?”

“I’d like to take a two-by-four to Gerry Anderson’s skull, though I doubt it would even leave an impression.” The warmth of the house reminded Lucy that she still wore his coat. She shrugged out of it. “Thanks for the loan.”

“Any time.” Clayton took it from her, making sure his fingers brushed over hers. Lucy looked up, her eyes wide and wary. A reaction was all he’d wanted. He laid the coat over the arm of the couch, inhaling the light, flowery fragrance that clung to it. He sat his hat on top. “It’s a beautiful old house.”

Fine. If he wasn’t going to mention the last few seconds, neither would she. He’d taken her by surprise but she wouldn’t let it happen again. “The hardwood floors need sanding, then I’ll polish. The wallpaper in some rooms needs replacing and the whole structure needs a coat of weatherproof paint.” The house had stood idle for the last two years. The large living room had boxes still stacked in a corner waiting to be emptied. “I think we’re going to be very happy here.” She picked up the sack of groceries. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

Clayton followed her into the kitchen and made himself comfortable on a straight-backed chair at the table. The room was inviting. The pale lemon of the freshly painted walls blended nicely with the brand-new light grey linoleum on the floor. While the coffee perked, Lucy set out ceramic mugs on the counter. She went to the refrigerator and withdrew a container. “Chocolate cake?”

“Thanks.”

She sliced two pieces of cake with medical precision and set them on plates. When she paused to lick a dab of chocolate icing from her finger, he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t do much of anything! The only basic function he maintained was breathing…but only with a concentrated effort. Her lips closed around her finger back to the first knuckle. She pulled it out of her mouth so slowly he almost groaned. She broke the spell by placing the knife in the sink and the cake back in the refrigerator. Clayton shifted in his chair to relieve the beginnings of arousal.

The coffee was finally done and she busied herself placing forks, milk and sugar on the table. She set cake and coffee before him, then went back for her own, carrying a can in the crook of her elbow when she sat down opposite him at the table.

“Whipped cream?” he asked. “I thought all you city people were health nuts. Low-fat this, high-fibre that.”

She shook the can vigorously before squirting a quantity onto her cake. “Not me. There are some things I won’t give up even for the sake of my arteries.”

“Such as?”

She thought about it for a few seconds. “Hamburgers, pizza, potato chips…whipped cream. The kids say my eating habits are going to kill me some day but hey, why not die happy?”

She could eat junk food and still have a body like that? The look of absolute anticipation on her face mesmerized him. Her delicate pink tongue peeked between perfect teeth as she concentrated on sculpting a work of art with the cream. Lucy paused, her fork in midair. “You have a strange look on your face.”

Clayton figured it was a little too soon in their relationship to divulge that watching her smooth whipped cream onto a piece of chocolate cake had aroused him. He didn’t want her thinking he was some kind of pervert.

“I’ve never seen anyone look at a piece of cake like it was a three-course meal.”

“Yeah, well, I skipped lunch because tonight is pizza night and that’s better than sex. But then Max came home and I took him to the doctor, I got so upset, the last thing on my mind was food. Now I’m starving.”

Better than sex? In Clayton’s experience there weren’t many things that even came close to the delicious euphoria of sex.

“Are you saying that you’d rather have pizza than sex?” If that was the case then she hadn’t found the right partner. He was already preparing his application for the position. Fun-loving farmer seeks to warm the bed of prickly little cactus flower. Satisfaction guaranteed every time.

Lucy had given too many safe-sex lectures to streetwise teens to be easily embarrassed, though she wished he weren’t studying her so intently. “You make it sound like nothing could possibly be better.”

“Good sex is pretty tough to top. Two people wanting each other so badly that nothing else matters but the moment,” he said, his gaze dropping to her lips. “A deep-pan cheesy crust with everything doesn’t even come close.”

“At least with a pizza you can order ahead, have it delivered, know what you’re getting, and if it isn’t satisfying you can take it back and get a refund.” With a serene smile that she hoped would effectively end the conversation, she raised the laden fork to her mouth.

Clayton watched her lips close around the fork, gliding along the tines as her eyes closed. He’d eaten meals with a lot of women in his thirty years. But this woman turned eating into one of the most erotic things he’d ever witnessed. Clayton didn’t question the urge he had to lean over and taste the sweetness of cake and cream on her mouth. Nor did he act on it…not just yet. He looked away long enough to get his body back under some sense of control before attacking his own cake.

“How long have you worked with these kids?”

Lucy stirred her coffee. “Five years.”

He smiled. “Not real big on details, are you?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “That would depend on the topic of discussion.”

He pointed to her with his fork. “You.”

“Then it’s going to be a very short conversation.”

The expression on her face dared him to try to prove her wrong. Normally he didn’t back down from a dare, but he sensed a need to go carefully with her. “So, how do you like your pizza?”

Lucy looked up at him, momentarily startled by the abrupt topic change, and wondered if this was a double-edged sword, given their previous conversation about pizza and sex. “With everything,” she said. “Is there any other way to have it?”

“Cold.”

“God, that’s disgusting!”

Okay. So I’ll never suggest we have cold pizza for breakfast, he thought wryly.

“The one food you couldn’t do without?”

Lucy didn’t even hesitate. “Seafood…any and all.”

He filed it away for future reference.

“What’s going on?”

Clayton looked up. The girl standing in the doorway was in her late teens. She wore pajamas that hung on her thin frame, her long black hair streaked a startling white-blond in places. He wasn’t sure what the nose ring and the black nail polish were in aid of, but despite them she was a very pretty girl.

“Sorry if we woke you, Lisa.”

She stifled a yawn. “No. I’ve been awake on and off since you left,” she said, sparing Clayton a glance.

“Coffee’s hot.”

Lisa looked over at the pot as if it were booby-trapped. “Did you make it?”

Lucy sighed. “Yes, I did.”

“I’ll pass. One medical emergency a day is all you can handle.” She sat down beside Lucy, casting a wary glance at Clayton before looking at her. “You should have taken me with you.”

Lucy smiled and shook her head. “I needed you here to keep Max calm. You’re the only one who can sweet-talk him.”

“I just let her think she can,” said the boy in question, coming into the kitchen, his curly blond hair tousled, his eyes sleepy. “I ache all over, Lucy. I hope you knocked him on his fat old butt.”

Clayton grinned at the sentiment as Lucy fussed over Max, but one look at the boy when he turned around, wearing nothing but bright red shorts, and he was tempted to go find Gerry Anderson and administer a dose of the man’s own medicine. A bruise covered one side of Max’s face. His thin body bore the evidence of his fall. Ugly purple cuts, painful-looking scratches and skin scraped raw. Behind Max two more kids ambled in. The oldest, a dark-haired boy, teetered on the brink of manhood and adopted the stance of a warrior. He was a born survivor. It was in his eyes. The girl standing beside him was younger than Lisa—about fourteen. Her hair was long and red, her smile infectious.

“This is Clayton McKinley. He’s our neighbour from Cable Downs,” Lucy said by way of introduction.

Thomas narrowed his intense glare on Clayton.

“We didn’t mean to wake everyone. Coffee’s hot, Thomas.”

He looked suspicious. “Who made it?”

Lucy made an aggrieved sound. “I made the darn coffee. Besides, McKinley’s drinking it and he hasn’t keeled over yet.”

Thomas shrugged. “It don’t mean he won’t.”

Actually Clayton had yet to taste the coffee she’d made him. He’d tasted bad coffee before. He’d tasted coffee so strong it could anaesthetize a bull at fifty paces. Now he eyed the cup wondering just how bad Lucy’s brew was.

“You’re quite safe, McKinley,” she said, interpreting his look. “I haven’t killed anybody yet.”

Thomas scoffed. “The way you make coffee it’s just a matter of time.”

The redhead swatted him playfully on the arm. “Leave Lucy alone.” Then she smiled at Clayton. “I’m Katie.” She gave Lucy a pointed look. “He’s cute. How about you tie him to your bed and keep him?”

Clayton nearly choked on the mouthful of cake he’d just eaten, and Lucy felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. After having him throw her off balance more than once tonight, turnabout was proving highly entertaining.

“I don’t collect men like stray animals, Katie. We met tonight. The car ran out of petrol on the highway and McKinley was kind enough to help me out.”

Thomas pulled out a chair beside Clayton and plonked into it. “Did you find the guy?” he asked Lucy.

“I found him,” she said. “I handled the whole situation rationally and calmly just the way it needed to be.”

Clayton chuckled and Lucy shot him a warning look to keep his mouth shut, which he promptly ignored.

“I’ve seen rational,” he told her. “And I’ve seen calm. But walking into a bar and challenging a guy twice your size in front of all his friends doesn’t qualify as either, Lucy.” He looked her straight in the eye. “You showed more guts than a lot of men I know.”

Thomas straightened as if he’d been shot and glared at Clayton. “She did that? You were there?”

Clayton nodded. “You would have been proud of her.” He glanced across at Lucy, who looked fit to strangle him. “She might be small, but there’s nothing tiny about her temper.”

Katie hoisted herself onto the waist-high breakfast bar. “Did you at least punch him out or kick him you-know-where?” At the look Clayton gave her, she added, “Lucy knows self-defence.”

Clayton could have sworn there was a thinly veiled warning in there. He smiled. “I know. She took lessons a while back.”

Thomas glared at her. “You walked in there with no one at your back? That’s the quickest way there is to wind up dead.”

Lucy knew she’d allowed her anger to cloud her judgement and she’d put herself in a dangerous position. She had to be more careful. Her family needed her.

“You’re right, Thomas. I shouldn’t have gone alone.”

Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Yeah, well,” he said, looking embarrassed at his display of concern. “Don’t go doing it again, okay? Any creep who’d hurt a kid as small as Max wouldn’t be afraid of taking on a woman.”

“Hey, I’m not small,” Max grumbled, wiping his eyes while avoiding the bruises. Clayton noticed now that his lip was cut too. “I’ll get bigger…but I don’t want to ride anymore.”

Clayton cautiously sipped the coffee while Lucy was fussing over Max. After the first taste, he placed the mug back on the table, forcing the liquid down his throat. Lucy’s coffee wasn’t bad. It was toxic. He heaped four sugars into it hoping it might at least make the stuff palatable.

“Where did you get the horse?”

“Col Peterson sold me three.” Lucy stroked Max’s head. “Give it a few days until the soreness goes away, sweetie, and then you can take her out again.”

The boy shook his head emphatically. Clayton had been around horses since before he could talk and had been riding them—albeit in his father’s arms—since before he’d taken his first steps.

“School doesn’t start back for another week,” Clayton said, “so anytime you want to come over to the Downs we could use another hand.” And maybe he could coax this kid not to give up on horse riding just yet. He’d let the fear recede first and then see what happened.

“Do you have jillaroos?” asked Katie, her excitement barely contained. “Everything is equal opportunity now, you know.”

Clayton hid a smile. “I don’t have a problem with that. You’ll find as many women doing farm labouring as there are men. In fact, we have three regular shed hands who hire on each year for shearing and they’re female.”

Katie’s eyes widened. “How about it, Lucy?”

Lucy didn’t really have a choice. Clayton McKinley had put the idea out there guessing she would never deny the kids the opportunity. If she had to have the kids learning from anyone, it might as well be him.

“All right, you can do it.”

“Sounds like I just hired myself two more hands.” He looked to Thomas and then to Lisa. “The invitation to visit is extended to all of you.” Thomas nodded slowly. Lisa shrugged.

“When you said hired, did you mean as in paid?”

“Max!” Lucy cast an apologetic look at her guest.

Clayton smiled. “All our hands get paid, even our part-timers.”

“No, McKinley, you’ve done—”

“Nothing more than hire extra hands to help around the farm. We’ve got fences to mend, stock to move and crops to finish harvesting, if they don’t get washed away first. I’ve got three orphaned lambs and no doubt we’ll have more before lambing season is over. Then there’s always the stables to muck out.”

Clayton could afford to pay these kids for the work they would do. He remembered how proud he’d felt when his after-school job had earned him enough money to buy the bike he’d wanted one year. Their eagerness told him he wouldn’t be disappointed. Of course, the fact that it would give him an excuse to see Lucy on a regular basis was just a fringe benefit.

“Lambs?” Katie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Cool. I’ve never seen one up close.”

Max grinned, wincing slightly because of his split lip. “You want to see one up close, look at your hamburger the next time you eat one.”

“That’s beef,” she replied smugly, “And stop being so gross.” She looked at Clayton. “When do we start?”

“Tomorrow, if it’s okay with Lucy.”

Yeah, right, she thought. Now he defers to my opinion when he’s all but given them a bed and three square meals a day! Neighbourly or not she wasn’t just going to let him steamroll into her life and turn it upside down.

Katie smiled at Lucy’s nod. “What time?”

“I’m usually up and at it by about six.”

Max gulped. “In the morning?”

Katie’s bright smile faltered for the first time. “Are you out of your mind? The sun isn’t even up then.”

Lucy chuckled. “How would you know? You’re never awake that early.”

Katie looked horrified that it might actually be true. “I’m guessing.”

Clayton bit back a smile. “I’ll meet you at the house at ten.” Their relief was almost comical.

“Enough, back to bed everyone,” said Lucy.

Thomas glanced at Clayton then back to Lucy. “You’ll be okay?”

Touched by his concern, she smiled. “Of course. McKinley and I need to talk about a few things.”

Katie gave Clayton an assessing look. “See you in the morning…boss.” She tugged at Thomas’s hand and they followed Max out of the kitchen.

“Why did you offer them jobs?” Lucy asked as soon as the kids were gone.

Clayton sat back in his chair. “Lady, you bring new meaning to the word suspicious.”

“Compliments won’t get you anywhere, now answer the question.”

“You probably think I did it so I could get close to you.”

“Did you?”

He cursed softly and brutally mashed a piece of cake with his fork, looking back at her when he felt more in control. She stared at him with assessing eyes. “What I did here tonight I did for those kids. Not only can I keep them busy but they might learn a thing or two. I may even get Max over his fear of horses. They’ll never be idle, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t want them hurt.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them, make sure they stay out of mischief.”

“I meant emotionally.” She sipped her coffee. “What Gerry said tonight, about the kids being strays. I don’t want them to hear people saying those things,” she said, reining in her anger. “They deserve a chance. They need to be accepted.”

Her words touched him, the strength in them, the fire in her eyes. Did these kids know how much they were loved? he wondered.

“They won’t hear any of that garbage over at Cable Downs. I only have four men on the payroll and they’re all good blokes. Once I introduce the kids, the men know to act accordingly.”

Lucy wished he didn’t sound so sincere. It just made it more difficult not to like him. And Lucy was determined not to like him. Neighbourliness was one thing, but liking opened up a whole other can of worms that Lucy knew should stay very firmly closed. She emptied her cup and looked over at his. “Finished?”

Clayton grinned. “Is that your subtle way of telling me it’s time I was going?”

She raised an imperious eyebrow, trying to ignore what that smile did to her insides. “If subtle worked with you I would be upstairs asleep and you wouldn’t be here.”

He feigned a wounded look. “You mean to say you’d send me out on a night like this with just one cup of coffee under my belt?”

And that tack wouldn’t persuade her either. “Thomas would say I was doing you a favour.”

Truth be told she was right. After that one mouthful, he wasn’t expecting to get any sleep tonight. How the hell he was going to finish the whole lot he didn’t know. But he thought of it as a test. Though he’d like to know what she used to put the coffee in the percolator. He was guessing garden spade. A large one. He looked down at his plate and then back to her, grinning. “I’ve got cake left.”

Lucy sat back, hoping for that bored, unaffected look Lisa did so well. “Then I suggest you eat it.”

Oh, he would. The cake was world-class compared to the coffee. He waved his fork in her direction. “Give me a chance, Lucy. I’ll grow on you.”

Give him a chance? Not if she had one ounce of self-preservation in her body! “I don’t even know you.”

His gaze pinned her with undeniable challenge. He aimed to change that as soon as possible. “What do you mean you don’t know me? I help damsels in distress, children like me…and I drink your coffee. I think that last one should qualify me for some kind of bravery award. What more do you need to know?”

How to get you out of my life before you become a complication I can’t afford, she thought ruefully. “You haven’t finished the coffee yet,” she reminded him smugly. “And what do you mean bravery award?” She frowned. “Are you saying my coffee’s lousy?”

“Of course not.” And he wasn’t lying. It left lousy in the dust. Lousy gave the impression it could be improved. Clayton doubted anything short of an exorcism could make her coffee fit for general human consumption.

“It’s getting late,” she pointed out.

Clayton grinned. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What you’ve got is a hide thicker than any rhinoceros.”

He smiled again and this time she couldn’t muster a defence for it. She had to get him out of her kitchen, out of her house…and then she had to avoid him as much as possible. Either that or try to forget he was the reason they put the S in sinful.

“I’ve never had any complaints about the state of my hide, Lucy. I think you should wait until you have firsthand knowledge of it before you make rash statements.” He smiled as he purposely reached for the mug and drank the coffee. He hoped his medical insurance was up to date. How much did a stomach pump cost? he wondered.

Lucy leaned her arms on the table and met his gaze with a direct one of her own as he put the mug back on the table and finished off his cake. This was something they needed to get out of the way right now. “We’re neighbours. You’re helping the kids to feel more at home here and I appreciate it, but we are never going to be more than that.”

So, she could tell he was interested. That was a good start. “Never is a long time, Lucy. Are you sure you don’t want to renegotiate the time frame?”

She stood up. “Go home.” He put the fork on the plate along with his mug then pushed to his feet, still grinning as if he was having the time of his life. Great…just great! That was definitely the combination she needed in a man. Drop-dead sexy, lethally charming and annoyingly persistent.

“Don’t you want to know my idea?”

Lucy scowled. “Do I get a choice?”

“No.”

She glared at him. “Fine, as long as it gets you out of my house.” His smile wasn’t triumphant enough to be a smirk but it came darn close.

“Do you ride?”

Lucy didn’t trust his casual tone. She just knew there was a trapdoor here somewhere. She hoped she saw it before it was too late. “Horses?”

He chuckled. “We’d better stick to livestock or this conversation could take on a whole new meaning.”

Too late! She’d have to watch for the next potential slip. “No, I don’t ride horses.”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know how to ride a horse. I just said I didn’t ride them.”

“Well, can you ride?”

She folded her arms and wondered if she really would have to push him out the door. “No.”

“Then I’ll give you lessons.”

Oh, I’ll just bet you could, Clayton McKinley. “What you’ll give me is a mitigating circumstance for homicide,” she said, exasperated and not totally immune to the fact that he was flirting with her. “As for the lessons, I don’t think so. The farther off the ground you are, the more it hurts when you fall off.”

“What if I promise to catch you?”

Oh, that was a much better idea. Hitting the ground would be less dangerous. “My answer would be the same.”

Clayton would have fun changing her mind. “I’d better be going. Thanks for the coffee and cake.”

“Thank you for the assistance.” Lucy followed him out of the kitchen and through the living room, where he picked up his coat and hat before heading out the door. He turned on the threshold, meeting her gaze. “I’ll see you when you drop the kids off tomorrow.”

“I have some things to do in the morning. I’ll get Thomas to drive them over.”

Clayton smiled. “Are you afraid of me?”

Lucy trembled involuntarily as that low, soft drawl skittered up her spine. With a momentum of its own it radiated to all points of her body. She raised her chin and tried to ignore the sensation, meeting his steady gaze with what she hoped was a withering glare.

“In your dreams.”

“You will be,” he replied easily. “I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you, Lucy Warner.” He reached out and soft as a whisper stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek, mesmerized by the softness he met and by the way she became immobile with…what was that in her eyes? Panic? Fear? He pulled his hand away, realizing he would have to go slower with this woman that he ever had in his life. He put his hat on and shrugged into his coat.

“It doesn’t matter if you hide out here and try to avoid me, Lucy. We’re going to be good together. That is a promise and a McKinley always keeps his promises.”

Lucy couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t forget the feelings his fingers had elicited. She raised her chin a notch and looked him straight in the eye. “You think I can’t resist you?”

He tucked his thumbs into the belt hooks of his jeans. “I think I’d like you to try. Sounds like it might be fun.” Then he turned serious. “And one more thing. I would never hurt those kids to get close to you. I plan to do that all by myself.”

Lucy shivered but it had nothing to do with the night air and everything to do with the man who threatened to thaw her heart with just a sexy smile. He turned and walked down the steps, the porch light illuminating the path to his truck.

“I’m not getting involved with you.” It had seemed important to get that out in the open so there could be no misunderstandings. But when he turned and looked back at her, one hand on the door of the vehicle, Lucy realized how well this man played the game.

“I’ll make a bet with you that we’ll be dining over candlelight before next Saturday.”

Lucy crossed her arms and leaned back on the door-frame, hiding a small smile at his tenacity. “And when you lose that wager, what do I get?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “If I lose, you’ll get the satisfaction of seeing me fall flat on my backside and an extra pair of hands to help you scrape down this house. But I intend to win, Lucy, and when I do, my payment will be giving you those riding lessons you need…and a kiss.”

Lucy considered herself unshockable after so many years spent around kids for whom shock value had its own rewards, but his suggestion almost caught her off guard. Kissing Clayton McKinley was not a good idea. Just the touch of his finger on her cheek had almost curled her toes…and her toes didn’t curl for anyone!

“It’s a deal.”

He touched the rim of his hat and gave her another one of those dangerous smiles. “Yeah, it’s a deal. But it’s going to be a pleasure, Lucy. You can count on that.”

She stood there and watched him drive off into the night, waiting until she could no longer see his taillights in the distance.

Clayton McKinley had stirred her libido to life again as easily as he breathed. And Lucy was scared. Not because of his striking good looks, not even because of his laid-back charm. But because she’d known the man less than two hours and feelings were waking inside her. He’d stroked her cheek and her insides quivered. He smiled and she could almost hear the barricade around her emotions straining under the force of it. She had never felt anything so consuming and that was her fear. How could she protect herself from something she couldn’t control? Lucy had a feeling she’d just let a major complication into her life.

How much damage he did would be up to her.

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