There was no denying it. That was exactly what she wanted. Their clasped hands brought other visions to her mind: his head bent over hers, his body pressing hers down, his— She firmly put the brakes on her imagination. He was married, she reminded herself. He must be. Besides, he hadn’t demonstrated any great interest in her. Maybe his tastes ran to six-foot Nordic goddesses.

But, no. He hadn’t let her hand go, and when she lifted her gaze to his, it was to catch a flicker of something in those eyes that sped up her pulse more than her first chance at surgery had. Were his cheeks tinged with red as he finally released her hand?

“Jess always says I have no manners,” he said ruefully. “I guess she’s right.”

“What do sisters know?” Teresa said, grinning at him.

He lifted one dark brow. Didn’t it figure he could. “You have some, too?”

“Two. I’m the middle child. I’m sure that’s why my psyche is so fragile.”

For a moment he studied her as gravely as he had the stand of trees. Then he smiled, slow and heart-stoppingly sexy. “You look fragile all right, but my mama always taught me appearances are deceiving.”

“Smart woman.”

His eyes lingered on her face as the smile faded. She felt flushed and dizzy.

“Five hundred dollars,” he said.

“What?” She stared at him.

“For your stumpage. The trees aren’t big enough to be worth much, but I can get them out easy enough—the truck can back right down your driveway. Pulp mill’ll take ’em. You’ll be rid of the trees and have a little cash.”

Thank heavens for his speech, the longest out of his mouth yet. It had given her time to realize he wasn’t offering five hundred dollars for her body.

“Does that include your taking the stumps out, not just grinding them down?”

“Yup. And burning the stumps and slash.”

“You’re on,” she said.

That eyebrow rose again. “Don’t you want to get other bids?”

“I already have. Two. One of the guys wanted to charge me two thousand dollars. Said the trees weren’t worth anything. He was going to buck them into firewood length and leave them for me. I’d have been stacking them for the rest of my life. The other fellow didn’t do stumps. He gave me the names of a couple of places that grind them down. I’m thinking of putting the vegetable garden there. How can I if the ground is full of roots?”

Joe Hughes nodded. “I don’t think anybody would beat my price, anyway.”

“Your sister guaranteed you.”

“Sisters are good for something,” he said, straight-faced.

“Yours seemed like a nice woman. She let me touch her horses.”

He heard the flash of bitterness, because those disconcerting eyes fixed themselves on her face again. “You’re a vet.”

“I’m a woman.”

His gaze flicked downward, then back to her face. “I noticed,” he said in a voice that had roughened just enough to be a compliment.

“Women are apparently competent to treat a five-pound cat. A thousand-pound Jersey cow is another story.”

He frowned. “Guess we’re a little backward in White Horse.”

“Eric—Eric Bergstrom, that is—warned me, but he thought the farmers would get over it. Judging from my first few weeks, they’re not in any hurry to.”

“We’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Joe said.

She made a face. “Don’t tell me you’re a dairy farmer on the side.”

“Nope. Hardly know one end of a cow from another. But I have friends who are.”

“Ah. You’re going to tell them what a sweet girl I am.”

He apparently didn’t mind her sarcasm, because one corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m going to tell them which end of their cow not to be.”

A cow’s ass. She liked it.

“Might come better from you than me,” she conceded. Her basically cheerful nature triumphed and she laughed. “When can you take out my trees?”

“Next week. Say, Monday.”

Monday was one of her days off. She could watch. She didn’t kid herself about what—or who—she’d be watching.

She smiled and held out her hand. “See you then.”

He glanced down at her hand and seemed to deliberate for a moment before he took it. His grip sent a shiver through her. When he released her, he flexed his fingers before balling them into a fist. Unfortunately his face told her remarkably little.

“Monday,” he repeated, gave a brief nod and headed for his huge shiny blue pickup without a backward glance.

Teresa wandered into the house. Both kids were waiting for her.