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  “I’m not going to bleed to death. Let’s head to your house before they change their minds,” Boone said dryly, and she nodded.

  He was bleeding badly and his eyes and mouth were puffed up. His shirt was torn and hung in shreds on him. He limped, but she let him hobble along beside her on his own.

  “You could have defended yourself,” she said, angry with all of them.

  “He was right. I would have done the same thing if the situation had been reversed.”

  “Please! The sooner you are off this ranch, the better it will be. ’Course, it’s your place, so if you want to stay where you’re not wanted, there’s nothing any of us can do about it, but don’t expect much cooperation from the men.”

  “I wouldn’t expect a shred of cooperation from them and you’re not in any danger of losing the baby over watching me getting beaten to a pulp. That malarkey isn’t working on me. Remember, I’ve been going through pregnancies since I was a kid. I’m an old hand at it and almost had to deliver Gregg myself. And I had to drive my mom to the hospital.”

  “You were eleven years old!”

  “That’s right. I sat on the phone book and encyclopedias,” he mumbled. “It hurts to talk. Tell you ’bout it later.”

  “I don’t care to hear about it,” she said stiffly. At the back gate she paused. “I think I should drive you to the emergency room in Stallion Pass.”

  “No way. Don’t argue, either.”

  “You are one incredibly stubborn man. Come on.” She led the way through the back entry to the first downstairs bathroom and Boone turned to her.

  “I think I should just shower and then maybe you can tape me up.”

  She shut her mouth and left him, pulling the door closed forcefully, but then she opened it instantly. He had started to pull off his shirt and was grimacing as he tried to raise his arms.

  “Stop,” she said. “I’ll cut your shirt off. It’s a rag now anyway.”

  She hurried to get scissors and came back to find him sitting on the edge of the tub. “If you can get to the bathroom off the front bedroom downstairs, it’s big and more comfortable.”

  When he nodded, she moved out of his way. As he hobbled beside her in the hall, she looked at him. “Want me to help support you?”

  “Nope. I think I might have bruised ribs.”

  “Boone, let’s go to the hospital.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’ve had worse injuries before.”

  In the large bathroom he showered and then emerged with a towel around his middle. Her breath caught when he opened the door and squinted at her through puffed, blackened eyes.

  “Boone! You look terrible!” she exclaimed, horrified by the sight of him and afraid how badly he was hurt. “Let me take you to a doctor.”

  “It just looks worse than it is. Give me some stuff to put on these cuts and some bandages for the biggest ones. The rest are bruises and they’ll heal.”

  “You can’t see.”

  “Yes, I can. Got any ice packs?”

  “Yes,” she said, hurrying to get gauze and bandages and antiseptic ointment and trying to ignore her racing pulse at the sight of him in a towel. His face was mauled and he had cuts and bruises, but he still had a magnificent, strong male body that she was intently aware of.

  “Sit down,” she said, and bustled around him, trying to ignore firm muscles and bare body and get his cuts tended. Finally she stepped away. “I’ll get ice packs and go to your house and bring you some clothes.”

  She suspected she should just send him home and ignore him, but she also felt guilty for what had happened to him. She hurried out, going to his house and switching off the alarm, hurrying to find him fresh clothes. She saw the packed bags and wondered now when he would move.

  Shaking her head, she gathered clean briefs, jeans and a T-shirt. “There, Boone Devlin. Get dressed and get out of my hair,” she mumbled as she hurried back to her house, guessing that he would stay through dinner.

  She found him lounging on the sofa in the family room. He sat up carefully when she entered the room. When she handed him the clothes, he looked up at her through slits from his swollen eyes.

  “Going to help me get into these?” he asked.

  “I don’t know whether you’re teasing or not, but no, I’m not. If you can’t get your briefs on by yourself, then I’m calling an ambulance and they’ll help you and take you to the hospital where you belong!”

  She thought she saw his swollen lips purse slightly and then he groaned. She left him to get dinner on, wondering if she would have him not only for dinner but for the night.

  She cooked soup, which he sipped carefully, and then he wanted a beer. He had dressed in the jeans but nothing else. She didn’t know if he was wearing the briefs or if they were folded up beneath the T-shirt and socks, but she didn’t care.

  “I suppose a beer is all right since you’re not on any medication,” she said, going to get the drink and pouring it into a glass for him since she didn’t think there was any way possible he could drink from a bottle.

  “Talk about stubborn,” she said, knowing he should go to the hospital.

  “What?”

  “You should let me take you to a doctor and you know it. How will you sleep tonight?”

  “Don’t know, but I’m not going to the hospital. Don’t suppose you’d let me stay here in case I need something?” he asked mournfully.

  “Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Stay tonight and I’ll see who can stay with you tomorrow night.”

  He nodded. “It hurts to talk, Erin.”

  “Then stop talking to me,” she said in exasperation.

  “You keep talking to me. I can’t hug you, but it would be nice if you’d just sit with me. It takes my mind off the pain.”

  “I will, but let me get some ice packs.” In minutes she perched on the end of the sofa while he lay back against pillows at the other end and had ice packs all over his head and body.

  “I am so put out with Uncle Perry—”

  “Don’t be,” Boone urged. “You could at least marry me to give our child a name and then you could get divorced if you don’t want to be married.”

  “If you keep talking about that, I’m leaving,” she threatened. “As a matter of fact, I doubt if you should talk at all.”

  “All right, I’ll stop,” he agreed. “What would it take to get you to give my back a light massage? It would really help my aches.”

  When she nodded, he removed the ice packs, sat up straighter and turned around. She sat close behind him, massaging his back and being careful of the cuts and bruises, rubbing his shoulders and neck, avoiding his ribs.

  “You won’t fire any of them, will you? I’d feel terrible if you did.”

  “No. I won’t fire anybody.”

  Her hands paused and then Erin continued massaging his rock-hard muscles, knowing he could have flattened Perry so easily. Had he done so, he would have had to fight all the rest of the men, but he probably would not have been hurt as badly.

  “Uncle Perry will be happy for me when he calms down. Once this baby arrives, he’ll be just delighted to be a real grandfather. His boys are grown, but neither one has married and he longs for grandchildren. He’s told me that.” She stood up. “I’m tired and I’m going to bed. I’ll get you anything you want, but you’re on your own. You can sleep in that downstairs bedroom.”

  He nodded. “I’m fine, Erin. Thanks for rescuing me.”

  She left him, feeling guilty and knowing she was deserting him to a night of pain, but she wanted to break things off and start getting over him, and having him under her roof was not helping. Having given him a massage hadn’t helped, either.

  Boone lay back, groaning, knowing she was right. He should have gone to the hospital. He probably should have defended himself, but he couldn’t see hitting Perry and he didn’t blame the man for his anger.

  He turned his thoughts to Erin. She had to let him marry her. Did she really want him ou
t of her life so badly? Or was this just because she knew how he felt about marriage?

  He suspected the latter. He drew a breath, groaned when it hurt, and thought about their future. Would he be trapped if he married her? His first reaction had been a feeling of entrapment, but would he really feel that way?

  The past few days without her in his life had been miserable.

  He thought about the days since he had met Erin. And the nights. The magical nights when she could set his blood boiling and demolish him with her kisses. Just thinking about her made him want her in his arms and the thought of moving away from the ranch was repugnant.

  He didn’t want her out of his life. She was the most wonderful, awesome, interesting woman he had ever known. She was a mystery, intelligent, capable, unpredictable, sexy. Would it be a trap to be married to her? What was even a bigger question, was he already in love with her?

  A baby on the way and diapers and all he had dreamed about getting away from for years.

  But this was different. It was Erin, not a parent and siblings. Erin and his own baby. His pulse jumped at the thought, and he knew he’d better think long and hard about the future before he messed it up for good.

  He got up and walked to a mirror, wondering if Perry had broken his nose. It hurt as if it was broken, and he supposed tomorrow he should go see a doctor. If Mike or Jonah heard about the fight, both of them would split their sides that he had taken such a beating, but if they found out why, he suspected that they would want to pound him themselves for getting Erin pregnant.

  He limped to the bedroom she had told him he could have and eased down on the bed. Every bone in his body hurt, and he knew he was going to hurt even more in the morning. He tried to get comfortable and thought about Erin, upstairs, asleep alone in her bed, a baby started now. His baby.

  He drew a deep breath, bit it off abruptly as pain shot through him. He wanted Erin. And their baby. Their baby.

  Was this love? He didn’t want to think about life without Erin, and now he didn’t want to leave the ranch and leave Erin and his baby.

  The next morning he slipped out of her house before dawn, hoping he would not encounter Perry or any other cowboy who worked at the Double T. He went through his house, fixed his own breakfast and hurt all over. It was an eternity before he could call Mike and ask the name of a doctor. By noon he had seen a doctor, had X rays taken, his ribs announced as badly bruised, and his cuts tended. To his relief, his nose was not broken and he could see a little better today as the swelling was starting to go down.

  He got a hotel room and spent the night in Stallion Pass, lounging around the hotel and trying to recuperate and sort out his feelings about Erin. Whatever they were, he knew one thing—he missed her dreadfully.

  He did not want to break off relations, stop dating, go separate ways, and he was certain she was doing this because she didn’t want him to feel trapped into marriage.

  He didn’t want to face the future without her. Did he love her? Boone asked himself the question. Never before had he felt about a woman the way he did about Erin. No denying that one. Never before had he wanted one to the extent he wanted Erin. Particularly after making love as much as they had.

  “I love you, Erin,” he whispered in the empty hotel suite. “I do love you,” he whispered again and he knew it was true. He was in love and she couldn’t possibly mean that she wanted him out of her life. Not now. Not after learning that a baby was on the way.

  He was in love. The realization staggered him because he had never expected it to happen.

  She had to let him into her life. It was his baby, too. Yet he was nervous and uncertain. If she said she wanted him out of her life, that might be exactly what she had meant.

  Her declaration that she wanted him to go might have been an ultimatum that she intended him to follow. If so, there would be nothing he could do to change her mind. On the other hand, if she was in love with him, then he didn’t want to give up and pack and go.

  He was in love. The idea was so novel he had to mull it over. He had never once been truly, deeply in love where he would possibly think about marriage or any kind of lasting relationship.

  He needed to court Erin. He had rushed her into his bed, but she wasn’t going to let him rush her into marriage, if he could get her into it at all.

  The idea of life ahead without her was too empty to contemplate. He wanted her always. He loved her and he felt excited just thinking about Erin and marriage. He needed to get to a jeweler’s. He needed to get well first and then start charting what he would do.

  He had to get Erin to agree to let him stick around, to get her to go out with him again. He took a deep breath and grimaced when pain shot across his ribs.

  Tomorrow he would begin.

  “I’m in love,” he whispered, stretching out on his bed and closing his eyes. He supposed he was. One thing he knew for an absolute certainty—he missed Erin like hell.

  Two nights later the doorbell rang, and Erin went to the door. A glance out the window revealed that it was Boone on the porch. She was hardly at her best, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, her hair in a casual ponytail. Shrugging, she opened the door to face him.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she took a deep breath. “This is a surprise. I thought maybe you had moved to town for good.”

  “Nope, I didn’t.”

  “You look better,” she said cautiously, thinking that he looked marvelous. He still had smudges around his eyes, but all the swelling was gone and the cuts were beginning to mend and there were fewer bandages.

  “I saw a doctor.”

  “I’m glad. How about your ribs?”

  “They’re mending.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t seen Uncle Perry since that happened.”

  “I have, and I talked to him at length.”

  “And he didn’t hit you again?” she asked, alarmed that Boone had already encountered her uncle.

  “Nope. We got things sorted out between us.”

  “Well, good for you two,” she said, shifting to another foot and wondering what he wanted.

  “Can I come in and talk to you?”

  “Boone, what’s the point? I want to break things off and this isn’t the way to do it. I want you to leave me alone.”

  “That’s my baby, too, and I have a part in this. Suppose I were the one carrying the baby and trying to shove you out of my life?” he asked patiently.

  “Well, first of all you have made it abundantly clear that you do not care about mommies or babies, having raised eight babies already. Second, you said you do not want to marry, except now, for all the wrong reasons. Boone, there’s no more to be said. Case closed.”

  “Give me a chance, Erin. Talk to me.”

  “Is this about how you want to marry me now?”

  “Might be, but I think I can put it a little more convincingly than that,” he said solemnly.

  “Forget it, Boone. Let’s call it finished and done. Bye,” she added softly and closed the door.

  “It’s about the stables,” she heard through the door, so she opened it again.

  “What about the stables?”

  “Can I come in to talk?”

  She took a deep breath and stepped back, watching him pass. He walked to the family room and sat on the sofa. “Come over here. I won’t bite.”

  She sat on the end of the sofa.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Still a little queasy in the mornings. Will you get to the point? What about the stables?”

  “I don’t want to worry you, but I’ve got brochures here,” he said, pulling them out of his hip pocket and straightening them. “This is about new stables.”

  “We’re not tearing down the old ones,” she said in a firm voice.

  “Look at these, Erin.” He pointed to the pictures. “They’re beautiful and have all sorts of advantages the old ones don’t.”

  “This is your ranch, but according to the will, before you
make changes, I have to approve them. I will never approve tearing down those stables without talking to the fire chief and Uncle Perry.”

  “Fine,” Boone agreed. “You talk to each of them, but in the meantime, you can look at these brochures.”

  She took the brochures, aware of Boone moving closer, and then his hand was on her nape while he talked, caressing her lightly, and she wanted to close her eyes and let him wrap his arms around her, but she wasn’t going to do that. “Boone, move your hand.”

  “You like me touching you. Tell me you don’t.”

  “I don’t now,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. He was only inches away, and she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding.

  “Give me room,” she said breathlessly.

  He placed his hand on her throat and gazed into her eyes. “Your pulse is racing.”

  “You know you do that to me, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “What does it mean if I make your pulse race and make you sound breathless and you leave me wanting you and unable to sleep? What?”

  “It means we haven’t fully gotten over what we had, but we will.”

  “Is that so? What did we have?”

  “Just some exciting times together. You said there was nothing to it, no future, no deep commitments—”

  “I said too much and things I didn’t mean.”

  “You meant every word of them.” She stood. “Let’s call it a night, Boone.”

  “Let me stay. It’s lonesome and boring in that monster of a house without anyone there except me. Let’s go get something to drink and just sit and talk.”

  She stared at him in consternation. He wasn’t cooperating and she knew before long he would be his usual irresistible self and she would be in a deeper muddle than ever with him. Yet she was spending long, lonely evenings, too. She nodded. “All right, but it seems a step backward.”

  As they started down the hall, Boone moved closer and draped his arms across her shoulder.

  She looked up at him briefly and then tried to ignore his embrace, but it was impossible because his fingers stroked her bare arm, an electrifying current following his touch.

  As they moved around in the kitchen, the slightest accidental physical contact stirred more tingles in her.