Their fingers brushed during the transfer. The tenderness of his touch told her he knew just how vulnerable and exposed she felt. A humiliating sting of tears pressed against the back of Ally’s eyes. She knew she had to get out of there. Now. Before she gave her heart away to more than just Duchess and the puppies.
Determined not to reveal herself even more, she whirled around. Reminding herself she could not stay in Laramie, no matter what happened with her job in Houston, Ally found her coat, purse and keys. I’m a city girl now. And that being the case… “I have to go into town.”
Hank’s eyebrows went up. “Right now?”
Not trusting herself to speak, Ally nodded. He looked…disappointed.
The odd thing was, she was disappointed, too. But she knew it was for the best. Despite Hank’s protests to the contrary, their fling was just that-a one-time event never to be repeated. Ally forced herself to hold Hank’s steady, assessing gaze, and said in the most even voice she could manage, “Since I can’t find a crew to do it for me, I’ve decided to go ahead and strip and paint at least the living room and foyer myself. Hopefully, the kitchen and mudroom, too. I’m going to pick up some paint samples before the hardware store closes, and decide on a color this evening.”
Hank settled Gracie in the warmer and began adding the other puppies, too. “Want company?”
Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. Which was another part of the problem. She was used to weathering life’s difficulties alone. Hank was going to be in her life for only twelve more days. It would be a mistake to count on him more than she already had. And an even bigger mistake to put herself in situations with him that could only lead to further intimacy.
“Thanks for the offer,” she said briskly, “but no.” For both their sakes, she flashed a too-bright smile. “I think we’ve imposed on one another enough.”
Much more, and she’d begin to think they were in some sort of relationship. And that was not the case.
“AND I THOUGHT THE situation couldn’t get any worse,” Ally’s coworker told her over the phone in an anxious tone two hours later. “Unfortunately,” Porter continued unhappily, “I was wrong.”
I’m not sure I want to hear this.
Ally stopped her car at the end of the road leading to the ranch and rolled down her window. She checked the post and took out several pieces of mail, all for Hank. She set them on the seat beside her and rolled up her window again, speaking into the microphone attached to her earpiece. “What do you mean?” she asked, doing her best to remain calm.
“The powers that be have decided to notify everyone of their job status-or lack thereof-by email!” Porter railed. “If we’re laid off, we’re not even going to be permitted back in the building. They’re going to ship our personal belongings to us.”
Ally turned her car into the lane, the golden arc of her headlights sweeping through the darkness of early evening. On either side of the gravel path were heavy thickets of mesquite that further obscured her view. In no hurry to get back to Hank, she drove carefully. “I’m sure the new CEO thinks it will be easier that way,” she told Porter.
“Maybe for them,” he argued. “For us, it’s all the more humiliating! And depressing, since the messages are all going out simultaneously on the morning of December 23!”
Good thing I’ve never been much for Christmas, or my holiday would be completely ruined.
“Couldn’t they at least have kept us around until after the holiday?” Porter complained.
Ally winced as her Audi bumped through a water-filled rut that spanned the width of the gravel lane.
Was there no place on this ranch not needing repair? she wondered. Then said practically, “For accounting reasons, the company has to wrap this up before December 31. You know that. Anyway, the last I heard, the plan was to keep at least a few of the old middle managers around, to help with the transition. So you could still have a job when the dust settles, as could I.”
“I’m not counting on it, which is why I’m already sending out my résumé as we speak.” Porter paused. “At least you have a substantial financial cushion with the ranch.”
Not as much as people probably thought, given the size and value of Mesquite Ridge. Unless they had looked at her financials…
“All you have to do is sell to Corporate Farms or whoever and-”
Holy cow! Ally blinked in astonishment as she reached the clearing that surrounded the ranch house and barn. If she hadn’t known, she would have sworn it wasn’t her home! She’d been gone only a little over two hours, yet half a dozen pick-up trucks and cars were parked there.
Inside the 1920s domicile, lights blazed.
Clearly, a party was going on.
Why hadn’t she been invited?
Or at least advised that it was happening?
“…Whereas I will probably end up having to sell my condo,” her coworker continued. “Unless I end up getting another job right away. If we’re lucky enough to get a little severance, along with our pink slips-”
“Porter,” Ally interrupted, “I’ve really got to go.”
“Okay. Call me.”
“I will.” She turned off her phone and dropped the earpiece into her shoulder bag.
Gathering up Hank’s mail, she drew a bolstering breath. And emerged from her car just in time to see Hank stride out of the front door and head straight for her.
Chapter Eight
Grinning, Hank strolled toward her, one hand behind his back. “Ready for a surprise?”
Was she?
Before Ally could protest, he produced a red Santa hat and slid it over her head, so the white fur trim obscured her vision. Trying-and failing-to hold on to her pique regarding both his cheerful antics and the party obviously going on in her absence, Ally drawled sarcastically, “Is this necessary?” The furry brim tickled the bridge of her nose.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hank bantered back. “If you want to get in the holiday spirit…”
Ignoring the tremor of excitement soaring through her, Ally let him guide her. “I thought I told you I wasn’t big on holidays.”
Hank’s warm hands closed over her shoulders. Purposefully, he steered her in the direction he wanted her to go. “Yet,” he interjected, as if he expected that attitude to fall by the wayside as quickly and easily as her resistance to him had.
Talk about a one-track mind! Determined not to let him know how much she hated having to rely on him to get anywhere, Ally scowled as he helped her up the steps, onto the front porch. Her skin tingled from the contact. “You’re not going to be able to change me, you know.”
His laughter had a masculine, confident ring to it. “Famous last words,” Hank whispered in her ear. He propelled her through the front door, turned her toward the living room and whipped off her Santa hat.
“Merry Christmas!” everyone said in unison.
Ally blinked. Thanks to Hank and the twenty or so working guests, the ugly horse-and-hound wallpaper that had dominated most of the first floor was almost completely gone. The unadorned wallboard provided a clean slate. For the first time in her life, Ally had an inkling of what the space could be like. “Thank you!” she whispered, overcome by the unexpected generosity shown her.
“Don’t thank us. Thank Hank. He’s the one who pulled it all together on short notice!” Hank’s baby sister, Emily, came forward. The feisty twenty-eight-year-old beauty was chef and owner of the Daybreak Café. She had one of Duchess’s puppies in her arms. “Hank told me you’re in love with the littlest one, Gracie, and I have to tell you, Ally, I completely understand! I’m in love, too. In fact, I think I’d rather have a dog than a man. They’re much more loyal and dependable.”
Ally couldn’t help but laugh, as did everyone else gathered around.