Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | The Rodeo Man′s Daughter

The Rodeo Man's Daughter
Barbara White Daille


When Caleb Cantrell left home as a dirt-poor teenager, he never thought he'd return as a wealthy rodeo star.As a matter of fact, he didn't think he'd return at all. The accident changed all that. It ended his career, nearly ended his life and rekindled a bitterness he thought he'd left in the dust long ago. To rebuild, Caleb has to go back to where it all began—back to Flagman's Folly, New Mexico, and back to his high-school sweetheart, Tess LaSalle.But a ten-year-old secret stands between them, one that could hurt everyone Tess loves, especially her daughter…their daughter…the one Caleb never knew existed. No rodeo ever required the courage Caleb needs now—to forgive, to forget and to start over again…if it's not already too late.







His Rodeo Career Is Over…

When Caleb Cantrell left home as a dirt-poor teenager, he never thought he’d return as a wealthy rodeo star. As a matter of fact, he didn’t think he’d return at all. The accident changed all that. It ended his career, nearly ended his life and rekindled a bitterness he thought he’d left in the dust long ago.

But A New Life Begins

To rebuild, Caleb has to go back to where it all began—back to Flagman’s Folly, New Mexico, and back to his high-school sweetheart, Tess LaSalle. But a ten-year-old secret stands between them, one that could hurt everyone Tess loves, especially her daughter…their daughter…the one Caleb never knew existed.

No rodeo ever required the courage Caleb needs now— to forgive, to forget and to start over again…if it’s not already too late.


Tess finally got a clear view of the opposite side of the yard…and what a view it was.

Caleb had just come around the corner of the shed. He’d taken off his T-shirt, and she couldn’t drag her gaze away.

He took the seat beside her. As she glanced over, she saw a long, thin scar traveling up his rib cage.

Reaching out with a shaking hand, she traced the scar. “Oh! Caleb, I’m sor—”

He lifted his hand and touched one finger to her lips. “Don’t say it. I don’t want that.”

She sighed. “I wish I knew what you did want.” She looked away. “You say you’re here to buy property, but you don’t seem interested in anything I’ve shown you. And then yesterday, in the truck…you said you’d gotten carried away. You said it wouldn’t happen again, but…”

He leaned closer. “It won’t happen again,” he said, his voice low, “unless you want it to.”


Dear Reader,

One of the things that will make me put a book on my keeper shelf is falling in love with the characters—the family and friends and folks from the community—who support the hero and heroine. I try to add that strong sense of community to my stories, too.

In writing my previous book (A Rancher’s Pride), I fell hard for Flagman’s Folly, New Mexico. Many readers tell me they did, also.

In The Rodeo Man’s Daughter, an injury has put Caleb Cantrell’s future at risk. Caleb has never felt the love of Flagman’s Folly. Yet, knowing he can’t go forward until he has settled scores from his past, he returns to his hometown. You’ve heard the expression “It takes a village to raise a child”? Well, in this case, almost everyone in town bands together to try to save Caleb—from himself.

I hope you enjoy this story! And please look for a third book set in Flagman’s Folly, coming to you later this year.

I would love to hear from you. You can reach me at: P.O. Box 504, Gilbert, AZ 85299 or through my website, www.barbarawhitedaille.com. I’m also on Facebook at www.facebook.com/barbarawhitedaille and Twitter, www.twitter.com/BarbaraWDaille

All my best to you!

Barbara White Daille


The Rodeo

Man’s Daughter

Barbara White Daille










www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest, where they don’t mind the lizards in their front yard but could do without the scorpions in the bathroom.

A writer from the age of nine and a novelist since eighth grade, Barbara is now an award-winning author with a number of novels to her credit.

When she was very young, Barbara learned from her mom about the storytelling magic in books—and she’s been hooked ever since. She hopes you will enjoy reading her books and will find your own magic in them!

She’d also love to have you drop by and visit with her at her website, www.barbarawhitedaille.com.


To my readers who love the town of

Flagman’s Folly, New Mexico

I hope you enjoy this chance to visit there again!

and

as always, to Rich


Contents

Chapter One (#u15acbf93-3eaf-50d1-8c8d-c3cdfc61e072)

Chapter Two (#u77f243f0-f298-59de-9133-6984a1f0d310)

Chapter Three (#uaf7ac055-918b-5486-beee-bd01078a3344)

Chapter Four (#u1b64c9d8-4186-5087-bbfb-c0a136849095)

Chapter Five (#ue45e8c9a-05b1-5800-8b5d-51f042210695)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

A long memory made for bad company when a man had too much time on his hands. Especially when those hands held a sizable number of grudges.

Caleb Cantrell eased up on the gas pedal of the pickup truck he’d rented earlier that morning at the airport. He cut the engine and stepped down from the cab, his worn boots hitting the ground and raising a cloud of dust. First time in ten years he’d set foot in Flagman’s Folly, New Mexico, and the layer of dirt that now marked him made it seem as if he’d never left.

Yet he’d come a hell of a long way since then.

Here on the outskirts of town, he stood and stared across the unpaved road at the place he’d once had to call home. After he’d left there, he’d slept in no-tell motels, lived out of tour buses and trucks and, eventually, spent time in luxury hotels. Didn’t matter where you went, you could always tell the folks who took pride in ownership from the ones who didn’t give a damn.

Even here, you could spot the evidence. Not a ritzy neighborhood, not a small community, just a collection of ramshackle houses and tar-paper shacks. A few had shiny windows and spindly flowers in terra-cotta pots. Some had no windowpanes at all. Here and there, he noted a metal-sided prefab home with too many coats of paint on it and weeds poking through the cinder blocks holding it up.

And somewhere, beyond all that, he knew he’d find a handful of sun-bleached trailers, their only decoration the cheap curtains hanging inside. The fabric blocked the view into the units through the rusty holes eaten into their sides.

Sometimes, the curtains blocked sights no kid should see, of mamas doing things no mama should do.

Swallowing hard, he retreated a pace, as if he’d felt the pull of one rust-corroded hulk in particular. It wouldn’t still be there. It couldn’t. But he had no intention of going over there to make sure.

Across the way, a gang of kids hung out near a sagging wire fence and a pile of cast-off truck tires. Still quiet, but soon their laughter and loud conversations would start, followed by the shouts from inside the houses. Some of the houses, anyway.

The rough edges of his ignition key bit into his palm.

In all the years he’d been gone from this town and with all the miles he’d logged, he should have shoved away everything that bothered him about this place.

He hadn’t forgotten a single one of them.

The gang of kids had moved out of sight behind one of the shacks. A lone boy, eight or nine years old, stayed behind and stood watching him. Dark hair, a dirty face. Torn T-shirt and skinned knees. Could have been Caleb, twenty years ago.

The kid made his way across the road. “Hey,” he said, “whatcha doing?”

“Just looking around.”

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

The boy must have noticed his awkward gait, the stiffness that always hit him after he sat in one position for a while. “I hurt my knee. Getting off a bull.”

“Thought you were supposed to stay on ’em.”

He shrugged. “That one had other ideas.” Not too bad—in those three quick sentences, he’d managed to bypass two years’ worth of rehab and pain.

The kid looked away and then quickly back again, shuffled his feet and jerked his chin up high. Caleb recognized the mix of pride and false bravado.

“Hey, mister…got a dollar?”

“Sure.” How many times had he asked that question himself? How many times had he sworn he’d never ask it again? He reached into his pocket for his wallet, thumbed it open and plucked out a bill without looking at it. “Here you go.”

“Wow. Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot.”

Caleb grinned. The boy’s grubby fingers clutched a hundred-dollar bill. He turned and raced across the road as if fearing Caleb would change his mind. He wouldn’t. He had plenty of money now.

Folks in town would sure be surprised to see him again, especially when he started spending that cash. When he started showing them just how far he’d come. Maybe then they’d look at him differently than they had years ago.

His grin fading, he shoved the wallet into his pocket and nodded.

Yeah. He’d show them, all right.



TOO EARLY to tackle his first order of business.

Caleb looked down the length of Signal Street, taking in the storefronts along the way. Insurance agency. Harley’s General Store. Pharmacy. Ice-cream parlor and clothing store. Everything the same as he remembered it from ten years ago. Except for the real estate office he planned to visit as soon as they opened.

How would Tess handle seeing him walk in the door?

The question stunned him, making him realize he wasn’t sure how he’d react to their meeting, either. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms.

He turned his back on the office and found himself staring at the Double S Café. Not much to look at, just a small square structure made of stucco. But Dori and Manny had brightened the place with pots filled with cactus plants all along the front and painted flowers and vines scrolling around the doorway. Above the door, a sign showed one letter S hooked on to another one. The Double S. That was new since his time.

Slowly, he made his way inside and along the jagged path between scattered tables to the rear of the café. He’d spent a lot of time in this cramped but cozy room, way back when, though not as one of the customers. How could he, when most days he went off to school without even any lunch money?

He settled on one of the stools that gave him a view through the open doorway into the kitchen. The owners, Dori and Manny, stood in conversation near the oversize oven. Dori spotted him first, her expression telling him she’d recognized him right away.

They hurried out to the counter.

Manny shook his hand and slapped him on the shoulder.

He stiffened when Dori leaned close to give him a long, sturdy hug. “It’s so good to see you, Caleb.”

Her voice hadn’t lost the trace of Spanish accent that had always flavored her words or its gentle tone. Now he’d grown old enough to tell it masked concern for him. Or pity? He hoped not. She squeezed his hand, and he saw that same concern in her eyes.

“Good to see you, too.” He had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Both of you.”

“We read about you in the newspaper. We sent you cards.”

Had they? If so, he’d left them behind unread when he’d transferred from the hospital to the rehab. He would have to give her the only response he could. “I didn’t write to anyone—”

“No matter. You were busy with the rodeo. And after that…” She shook her head. “You weren’t well enough, we know that. The judge called the hospital for more news. That was a terrible accident. Terrible.” She squeezed his fingers. “But you’re well again?”

How did he answer that?

As far as his body went, yes, he was back in one piece. As “well again” as the doctors said he might ever get. But in his mind and his gut…a different story there. All those months in rehab, he’d found himself with a lot of time to think about things. To run through the memories of his life up till then.

To develop a need that wouldn’t let him rest.

He couldn’t tell Dori about all that.

“I’m fine,” he said simply.

“And you’ve come home?”

He shot a glance around the café, recalling the many nights he’d swept the floors and cleared off the tables after the last customers had gone. The small, brightly decorated restaurant had once represented so much to him. A place to work, get a good meal and feel less alone. That might explain what had driven him to come in here this morning.

He’d first talked to Tess here, too. The memory caused his stomach to clench. The fact she worked in the only real estate agency in town made their reunion inevitable. Suited his purpose, too. She’d get a firsthand look at how well he’d done for himself.

He looked back at Dori and Manny, once the only friends he’d had. Almost the only family. But…come home?

He couldn’t tell Dori that, either.

“Just visiting,” he said instead. “And while I’m here,” he added, putting his plan into words, “I’m looking to buy some investment property.”

“But that’s wonderful,” Dori said, obviously delighted. “You will find yourself a nice house and want to settle down here.”

“I’ve got a house already—on a ranch in Montana.” He smiled to soften the words. “But it’ll be nice to visit for a while.”

A short while.

Seeing Dori and Manny had revived some of the few good memories he had, but they couldn’t outweigh the bad.

Once he did what he needed to do, proved he was the equal of anyone else in this town, he’d leave Flagman’s Folly behind him again.

For good.



COULD ANYTHING beat showing up for work on a Monday morning and finding a long, tall cowboy waiting on the doorstep?

Yes, Tess LaSalle decided. Unfortunately, cowboys came by the dozen around here. What she needed was one with money.

It was a gorgeous first day of June, worthy of any advertising blurb she could write to attract new clients to Wright Place Realty. But in their tiny town, there was not a client to be found.

Unless…?

Half a block away, she eyed the man leaning against the dusty pickup truck parked at the curb. From his black Stetson to his Western shirt with the shiny pearl snaps, he might have dressed to play a role. Yet one glance at his formfitting, threadbare Wranglers and well-worn black boots plainly announced the truth: he was the real thing.

Whether or not he had cash on the barrelhead remained to be seen.

Still, she hurried along Signal Street toward the storefront office. As desperately as they needed clients, she wasn’t about to let this one get away.

“Good morning,” she called, digging in her canvas bag for her key ring. “Let me get the office open for you.”

“Morning.” When she neared him, he held out his hand.

Automatically, she responded. His hand engulfed hers, the roughness of his fingers tingling all her nerve endings. She looked up to find his face hidden by the brim of his Stetson. She could see only a firm jaw and the dark stubble of five o’clock shadow. Another indication of a working cowboy and not a wealthy rancher?

As she watched, he lifted his head and tipped his hat, revealing thick, wavy dark hair and a pair of blazing green eyes.

Tess’s fingers trembled in his. She’d have given anything to disappear at that moment. He couldn’t have missed her reaction. Just as she couldn’t miss recognizing those eyes.

Caleb Cantrell had planned that move to startle her. He’d succeeded, more than he could ever know. Shock warred with guilt inside her.

Belatedly, she realized his hand still covered hers. A treacherous longing to hang on to him stunned her. Appalled by her own emotions, she snatched her fingers away and dropped her arm as if she’d been burned.

She took a long, deep breath and set her jaw. Forcing her voice to remain steady, she asked, “What are you doing here, Caleb?”

He gestured toward the storefront. “That’s a real estate office, isn’t it?”

Before she could give the obvious answer to his question, a blue van pulled up to the curb behind his pickup truck. Tess’s best friend and boss, Dana Wright, emerged from the van. She did a double take at seeing Tess’s companion, then marched over to them. “I don’t believe my own eyes. Caleb, is that really you?”

“In the flesh.”

Good-looking flesh, too, with a nice even tan that set off the whiteness of his smile as he grinned. Tess clutched the key ring she’d finally dug out of her bag.

“Well,” Dana continued, “it’s good to see you. You remember me? Dana Smith? Now Dana Wright?”

“Of course I remember you. Couldn’t forget either of the prettiest girls in town, now could I?” He smiled at Tess.

She stiffened. He was wasting his time. No amount of sweet-talking would ever get her to believe in him again.

Sure, Dana could act natural and concerned. She didn’t have Tess’s history with the man.

Or Tess’s secret.

“What brings you back to Flagman’s Folly after all these years?” Dana asked him.

“Well, tell the truth, I’m looking to buy some land here.”

“Is that so?” Dana stood taller and smiled wider.

Tess knew her friend’s pulse must have quickened at the thought of a possible sale. Her own pulse was beating fast—for other reasons.

“As we like to say around here,” Dana continued, “you’ve come to the ‘Wright Place.’ I’m sure we can help you out.”

“So am I. I’ve got a list.” He tilted his head. “I’d like to talk things over with Tess. Thought we’d go on along to the Double S. Over a cup of coffee, I can fill her in on what I need.”

That wasn’t what she needed. Not at all.

She sent her friend an agonized look.

Of course, Dana couldn’t understand what it meant. Instead, she sent back an expression of wide-eyed innocence that said plainly, We’ll talk later.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to do much for you,” Tess protested. “I’m just the hired help. A glorified file clerk, really. Dana’s the boss. You’ll want to deal with her.”

Caleb focused on her again. “I don’t know about that,” he drawled. “You and I’ve got some catching up to do.”

She curled her fingers into fists. “No, we do not, and—”

“Ahh…Tess?” Dana broke in. She looked at Caleb. “If you’ll excuse us for just a minute…?”

He patted the fender of the pickup truck. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

“Thanks.”

Within seconds, Dana had unlocked the door and led the way into the office. She turned to Tess with a wide smile—most likely for the benefit of Caleb, who stood outside the storefront window—and said, “Girl, have you completely lost your mind?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, we’re both going to lose our jobs if we don’t make a sale soon.”

Tess sighed. “I know.”

As a single mom and the sole breadwinner for her small family, Tess clung to the paycheck she earned here. The money took care of their bills, if she budgeted carefully. When she had pennies left, she helped tide her mother over with her fledgling business, turning their home into a bed-and-breakfast inn and taking on guests.

Nonexistent guests, lately.

Things were bad all around. No one had much money on hand for vacationing in small-town inns. Or for buying property, for that matter. Losing this job would mean she’d have no income.

Roselynn and Nate depended on her. But as bad as things were for her, she knew Dana had it much worse. Widowed and left a single mom, her friend struggled to get by with three kids of her own.

Now Dana stood tugging on a lock of her honey-brown hair, her blue eyes narrowed in speculation.

“I have no idea what all this ‘catching up’ is that you and Caleb have to do—” Tess remained silent “—though I’m sure I’ll hear about it sometime.” She smiled as if to soften the words.

Since grade school, she and Dana had shared everything. But not that. She’d never told Dana anything about her connection to Caleb. Much as Tess loved her, she knew Dana couldn’t have kept herself from broadcasting the news that Tess had found a boyfriend. Tess had had her own reasons for not wanting the news spread. And after what had happened, she’d given thanks that no one had known.

“I suppose,” Dana was saying, “I could offer to show him around town, but I don’t want to risk him taking offense. He obviously wants to work with you.”

“Yes, I know.” Why? That’s what worried her. Caleb Cantrell didn’t do anything without a reason. And he certainly didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. She had learned that years ago. After their last conversation way back then, she couldn’t imagine why he’d want to speak to her again—or how he could have the nerve to believe she would ever have anything to do with him.

“Look,” Dana said, “I can understand your reluctance to deal with Caleb. The man didn’t have such a great reputation when he lived here.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” she protested truthfully.

“Fine. But if there’s one thing we know about him, he’s made money since he left town. Who are we to keep him from spending it in Flagman’s Folly? And, let’s face it, we need the commission.”

“I know.” She couldn’t refuse to work with Caleb.

Besides, did she really want Dana working with him? Talking to him? Asking him questions about that so-called “catching up” he claimed they needed to do?

“All right,” she said at last, choking on the words.

But it wasn’t. No matter how much money she might bring in by making a sale for Wright Place Realty, dealing with Caleb Cantrell could cost her plenty. If he ever found out about the baby she’d kept from him, it might cost her the daughter she loved.


Chapter Two

“Now you know what I’m looking for,” Caleb finished up. Across their booth in the Double S, Tess stared down at her notebook. “The best money can buy.”

He had grabbed his coffee and her tea and headed to the empty booth at the far front corner of the room, close to the café’s door. Not that he would need a getaway…

Tess didn’t look too happy about sitting here with him. And she’d said next to nothing, leaving him to spend the last half hour doing enough talking to make his throat drier than New Mexico dust. Luckily, Dori kept the pot hot and full.

He glanced down at the woven place mat under his coffee mug, then around the room at the rough wooden tables and chairs, the bare planked floors, the colorful sombreros on the wall.

At anything that gave him the chance to think for a minute without staring at Tess.

Why he should find it hard to look her in the eye, he didn’t know. Finding out she worked selling real estate had given him the best reason in the world for getting in touch with her once he’d come back to town. And her job made her just the person he needed to get his point across to everyone. He’d run down a list a mile long, throwing in every option he could think of for the kind of property he wanted to buy. The best, the biggest. The most expensive property.

He looked around the café. At this hour, too late for workers to stop in for coffees to go and too early for a lunch rush, the restaurant had only a few customers. Luckily, no one he knew. He’d returned to Flagman’s Folly eager to get to work, but now that he had arrived, he’d realized he should’ve done more thinking beforehand about his great idea.

Much as he hated to admit it, seeing Tess again had shaken him more than he would have guessed.

But it was time to put his plan into action.

He looked back at her. “You got all that?”

“I believe so.” Her head down, she flipped back through the pages of the notebook that lay on the table beside her.

He took the opportunity to check her out yet again.

Could have knocked him over with a frayed lasso when he’d seen her come walking along Signal Street. Luckily he’d gotten hold of himself by the time she’d reached him.

During the past ten years, Tess hadn’t changed a bit.

Well…naturally, she’d grown up and filled out.

Still, she had the same shoulder-length tumble of dark curls, the pale skin that gave her away every time she blushed, the sparkling dark brown eyes. She looked up at him again now, those eyes wide, and said not a word.

He glanced down to see her hanging on to her teacup for dear life, it seemed. No wedding band. He wondered about that.

Not that it meant anything to him.

If only he could say the same about the way her fingers had trembled in his when he’d shaken her hand earlier…

Letting go of the death grip on her cup, she transferred her attention to the hem of her yellow shirt. The tug she gave on it pulled the fabric taut against her.

He forced himself to focus on taking a long swallow of his coffee.

“I think I’ve got everything we’ll need.” Her lips curved briefly. “Any last-minute items for your wish list?”

Yeah. A real smile. That one had looked so fake, he wouldn’t have given her a nickel for it. “Nope. That about covers it for now.”

“Then I’ll get back to the office and start working on this. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something to suit you.” She flipped the notebook closed and dropped it into her bag.

When she started to slide out from the booth, he reached for her arm. Warm, soft skin met his palm. Holding her hand outside the office had given him a jolt. This about mule-kicked him across the room.

He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “What’s your hurry? Been a long time since the two of us talked.”

“Yes.”

Obviously, if she had her way, it would be an even longer time before they had a proper conversation.

He settled against his seat cushions and stretched his legs out under the table, trying to find a comfortable position. “So, you wound up selling property for a living? Not a bad job. What does your husband do?”

And why the heck had he asked that?

Tess looked as if she wondered the same thing. “I don’t have a husband,” she said, clipping the words.

He frowned. “Last time I saw you, you were planning on getting married.”

“I know,” she said, her voice cold. “It didn’t work out.”

“Yeah. Neither did we.” Again, he’d blurted the response without thinking. This time, though, he knew why. The bitter memory of their last meeting had driven him to speech.

He might as well have waved a red flag in front of her with his words. Her face went as belligerent as a bull getting ready to charge.

“There was no ‘we,’ Caleb. I seem to remember that maybe once there might have been. But you wanted to go off and start winding your way along the rodeo trail. So you did.”

The acid in her tone seemed at odds with the hurt look in her eyes.

Well, he’d had his reasons. And she’d damned well given him another. One guaranteed to keep him away. Jaw clenched, he tried shrugging away the wave of guilt pounding at him. No such luck. He reached for the fresh pot of coffee Dori had brought a few minutes back.

The door to the Double S opened. Glad for the distraction, he looked up and watched a group of little girls roll like tumbleweeds into the place.

On the opposite side of the booth, Tess jerked to attention. He’d swear her face grew paler yet.

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head.

She was lying. Something about that little crowd bothered her.

“Excuse me a minute,” she said.

The girls had crossed the café and taken over the row of stools lining the counter in the back of the room. They looked innocent enough. Clean and respectable, too. A big contrast to the kid he’d given the cash to earlier.

The same thing people had thought about him when he’d lived here. He gripped the handle of his coffee mug, trying to get hold of his anger. At that age, neither he nor that kid had the power to control their worlds. Couldn’t folks understand that?

He shook his head and looked again at the girls. Eight, nine years old, maybe. He’d seen plenty like them in his days on the circuit. Just a bunch of giggling kids who cared only about hanging out at the rodeo with their friends. Nothing to worry about with girls that age.

It was the older ones you had to watch out for.

Eyes half-closed, he sat back and admired the view of Tess’s yellow shirt riding above well-fitting khakis as she marched toward the group of girls.

When she came up to them, they swung around on their stools. The sideways glances the four of them shot each other said plainly they hadn’t expected to run into her here.

She leaned close to one of the kids, a pint-size version of Tess with dark curls and a stubborn chin he’d recognized easily. Had to be Tess’s little girl.

All the coffee he’d swallowed that morning suddenly churned in his stomach.

The kid stuck that chin out now and shook her head. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from Tess. Trouble there, for sure.

The girl looked around the room at anyone and anything but her mama. Her gaze zeroed in on him, and her eyes widened to about the size of his competition champion belt buckles.

“Mom, look!” she said in a strangled whisper. She might’ve been trying to keep her voice down, but he could hear her clear across the room. She tugged on Tess’s shirt. “Mom, do you see him?” Her voice rose with every word. She waved her arms frantically at her friends. “Guys—over there, in the corner. That’s Caleb Cantrell.”

The trio surrounding her squealed like a sty full of pigs discovering a replenished trough. A familiar enough sound.

He smiled in satisfaction. Now, this was one group in Flagman’s Folly he wouldn’t need to work at impressing.

All four of them jumped off their stools.

To give her credit, Tess made an attempt to grab hold of her daughter and the girl next to her. They likely didn’t even feel her hands on their shoulders as they slipped from her grasp. At that moment they were driven, with one goal in mind.

Getting to him.

From the look on Tess’s face, she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Carefully, he set his half-full coffee mug aside, moved his Stetson out of reach and braced himself, knowing what would happen next.

The girls headed toward him. No tumbleweeds rolling gently along now. Their eyes shining, their mouths tight with suppressed excitement, they stampeded across the room.



“ALL RIGHT.” Tess looked from one girl to another, stopping at Nate. “You remember that list of chores you promised to do for Miss Roselynn in exchange for the sleepover tonight?”

They all nodded.

“Well, that’s a start.” She had spent more time than she could afford trying to drag their attention away from Caleb.

As rodeo-crazy as Nate and her friends were, she should have known Nate would recognize the champion bull rider immediately. If only the girls hadn’t come into the Double S just when she happened to be there with Caleb. But that was a faint if only—and a useless one. In a town the size of Flagman’s Folly, everyone would run into him sooner than later.

In the minute it took for those thoughts to flash through her mind, the girls had edged closer to Caleb again.

She tensed. “Get started now, girls,” she said. “Miss Roselynn will be waiting for those groceries.”

Even to her own ears, she’d sounded as firm as a blade of wet grass. Looking across the booth at Caleb, she felt just about as sturdy. After this run-in with him, she really needed peace and quiet. And time to practice the calm front she would have to present whenever he was around.

But there wasn’t time enough in the world for that.

Besides, the way he sat smiling at her left no doubt he’d noticed her staring at him. He’d probably already seen right through her. As bad as the girls, she now had to drag her own attention away from the man, who obviously had plenty of experience in the spotlight.

“You’ve got the list for Harley’s,” she reminded Nate and her friends. “And you’ve got the money, too?” At their nods, she added, “Great. Then please get the shopping done—and don’t forget to use the coupons.”

Every penny saved meant a penny more she could use to help her mother put food on the tables at the bed-and-breakfast. The Whistlestop Inn might be empty of guests now, but with any luck, Roselynn would soon have every room occupied. And not by a houseful of chattering girls.

That was all she needed tonight.

After a burst of giggles and goodbyes to Caleb, the group ran toward the door.

One voice rose above the laughter. “’Bye, Mom. See ya later.” The door slammed in her wake.

Tess sank back onto the booth’s bench seat.

“Sleepover?” he asked.

“They’re celebrating school letting out last week.” She exhaled heavily. With the way Nate had behaved lately, she’d skated very close to not having this party. And if things didn’t improve, it could turn into a very long summer.

The thought that Caleb might be there for a good part of it left her choking on her indrawn breath of dismay. She swore she’d do whatever it took to have him on his way as soon as possible. Focusing on him again, she realized she’d missed the beginning of his response.

“—can’t be a bad bunch at all,” he was saying, “if they’re willing to do chores that cheerfully. And your daughter sure takes after you.”

The blood seemed to rush from her head, making her dizzy. There were many subjects she never, ever wanted to discuss with Caleb Cantrell. On a scale of zero to ten, the topic of her daughter ranked at three hundred.

“Yes,” she said shortly. She shoved one shaking hand through her hair. With the other, she picked up her canvas bag as she rose from the bench. “Well, I’ve got your information. Time for me to go and start working on it.”

She turned away and waved a brief goodbye to Dori. The older woman stood with her elbows resting on the counter at the back of the room, taking a much-needed break.

“You’ll come see us again soon?” Dori asked, directing the question to Tess but then quickly looking past her toward Caleb.

Was no female over the age of five immune to the man’s charms?

“I’m sure I will,” Tess said firmly.

“Be a real pleasure, Dori,” he drawled. “For both of us.”

Tess shivered and grabbed the door handle. She didn’t want to share any kind of pleasure with him. Not now or in the future. And she refused even to think about their past.

Once outside, she stopped on the sidewalk near his pickup truck. He had driven them the couple of blocks to the Double S, and the close confines of the truck’s cab had nearly left her hyperventilating. The two blocks had stretched to forty miles.

No way did she want to share that vehicle with him again, either.

“So,” he said, resting against the fender, just as he’d been standing when she had first seen him that morning. “How old is she?”

“Dori?” She pretended to misunderstand, knowing full well what he meant. “I’m not sure. Around my mother’s age, I would guess. Early sixties.”

The deception hurt her. Badly. Because at her response, he grinned, making his green eyes blaze even in the shadow beneath his Stetson’s brim. “I meant that girl of yours.”

“Oh. She’s nine.”

“Nice-looking kid. What’s her name?”

“N-Nate.” Where was he going with this conversation? And why wasn’t she going far, far away in another direction?

“Nate?” He sounded amused. “A real handful.”

She frowned. He’d seen her daughter for all of five minutes, most of which Nate had spent amid the group of girls fawning over him. “What makes you say that?”

“The stubborn jaw.” He reached up and touched her chin with his fingertip. “I’d have known her even if she didn’t have your hair.”

She swallowed hard and backed up a step, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. No, she would not get back in that pickup truck with him—even though it would give her a chance to sit down.

“I’ll be in touch,” she assured him. When cows give orange milk. “I’m sure it won’t take long at all. And…” she held her breath a moment, then rushed on “I’m assuming you’ve reserved a place to stay closer to Santa Fe or Albuquerque.”

His expression hardened. “I’ve got it covered,” he said, his voice rough.

At another time, she might have thought twice about his reaction. Not anymore. “Good,” she said firmly. “There’s no need for you to hang around. I have your cell phone number. And you don’t need to drive me to the office, thanks.”

As she started along the sidewalk, he fell into step beside her. Though he matched his stride to hers, he walked with the stiff gait she had seen when he’d first gotten out of the truck in front of the Double S.

He’d been hurt during a rodeo. Very seriously hurt. The townsfolk had gone into an uproar when they’d learned about it. Nate and her friends had been despondent. Tess had managed to harden her heart against the news. Had tried not to think about Caleb’s aborted career. About his injury. For the most part, she’d succeeded. Until now.

Reading about his accident was one thing. Seeing the results of it right there in front of her was something else. But she couldn’t feel any pity for Caleb. Shouldn’t feel any guilt, either.

Not after they way he had crushed her.

Keeping her gaze forward, she cleared her throat. “I—uh—know the way back on my own.”

“That’s good,” he said. “A successful real estate person like yourself ought to know her way around. In fact, I imagine you’re the perfect person to show me some of the sights in town.”

Shaky legs or not, that brought her to a solid stop. “What are you playing at, Caleb? You were born and raised here, same as I was. You know all the sights there are to see.”

“Maybe. And maybe some things have changed.”

His gaze drifted from her eyes all the way to her toes. An answering shiver rippled its way along the same path, as if he’d run his finger down her body.

“You’ve got more curves than I remember.” He grinned again.

Time to get away from him. “I have to run.” What an understatement.

She needed to get to her office, research the list of his requirements, and find some property for him as quickly as she could—and as far away from Flagman’s Folly as possible.

“Okay.” To her relief, he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ve got some business to take care of, myself. Since yours won’t take long, why don’t I pick you up later? We’ll ride around town a bit. Talk over your prospects at supper.”

The most unlikely prospect she’d ever heard.

The words rested on the tip of her tongue, ready for her to say them. But she couldn’t.

Visions floated into her mind.

Nate. Roselynn. Dana with her three small children but no husband by her side. An Out Of Business notice plastered on the front window of Wright Place Realty. A For Sale sign decorating the lawn of the Whistlestop Inn.

She thought of the commissions she and Dana would earn from the sale of a ranch to Caleb. The sale of a substantial ranch. He’d made it plain he intended to acquire the largest piece of property she could locate. He’d seemed obsessed by the idea of owning a big spread in New Mexico. Strange, when he’d told her he already ran a working ranch in Montana. She’d had to bite her tongue against the question she wanted to ask. Why did he feel such a need to branch out?

Fortunately, she’d kept quiet. What did it matter to her, as long as she managed to find him that ranch clear across the state? She ought to be grateful for his obsession. The income she could earn in satisfying his need would take care of every worry she’d envisioned, for a good long time. She couldn’t afford—literally—to get on the man’s bad side.

If he had one.

Everything she’d seen of him so far looked as good if not better than it had ten years ago.

“Sound all right to you?” he persisted. “You said you’re still living at your mama’s. Can she keep watch on the girls at the sleepover for a while?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, she can. That sounds fine.”

“Good. I’ll be at your place early, then, around four.”

She nodded and walked away before he could see the expression she knew she couldn’t hide.

How many times as a love-struck teenager had she dreamed about Caleb pulling up to the house to pick her up for a date? Impossible, of course. Her grandfather had made sure of it. Even without Granddad’s rules, she had known the pointlessness of her dream. She and Caleb had kept their relationship secret.

She sighed in frustration.

Back then, she had loved Caleb. Couldn’t get enough of him. Yet he had left her. And now, when she didn’t want the man anywhere near her, she was stuck with him.

The irony of the situation nearly overwhelmed her. But the damage was done. Her world had already caved in earlier that day, the minute he had forced his way into her life again.


Chapter Three

Caleb parked the pickup truck in his choice of spaces behind Tess’s home. Only one other vehicle occupied the parking area, an ancient Toyota with more than its share of dents.

Funny to think he’d come calling here again. Twice in the past, he’d stopped by this place and hadn’t made it beyond the front door. Her granddaddy had seen to that. Getting inside now would bring him a considerable measure of satisfaction.

Still, anger rose at the memory of her granddaddy. The same anger that had bubbled through his veins since he’d first set foot in town this morning. He’d have to watch that. Control that from here on. Anger wouldn’t get him what he wanted from the townsfolk, or from Tess. No, he needed to give them all someone to look up to. Someone they’d respect.

A good storyteller. A bull-riding champ. A rodeo star.

Taking a deep breath, he stared at the clock on the dashboard. Three-fifty. Ten minutes early. Ten minutes to sit here. No sense letting Tess think he was too eager to see her again.

He couldn’t have any illusions about her feelings, that was for sure.

She had looked less than thrilled to see him outside the real estate office that morning, and a good sight more unhappy once she learned why he’d been standing on the doorstep.

What he’d told her of his reasons, anyhow.

Pity she hadn’t been more enthused.

As if she would forget about their past, just because he’d wanted her to. As if he could impress her, just by mentioning money. He’d known he would have to work harder with Tess than with anyone. Maybe he should have started with somebody who’d have accepted his return more readily.

Dori and Manny from the Double S, for instance.

Of everyone in Flagman’s Folly, they were the people he should have harbored some guilt over. Maybe he did, somewhere deep inside. Someplace he couldn’t get to right now. Not while he had grudges to tackle and axes to grind and scores to settle. He had all the bad parts of his past to resolve before he could look to the future.

Coming to the edge of dying had made him realize that. It had humbled him. It had scared the hell out of him. And it had finally made him understand just what all those early years and those bad parts of his past had done to him.

Returning to Flagman’s Folly had to make up for some of that.

He glanced at the dashboard clock again. Time for the show to begin.

He climbed out of the truck and followed the path around the house to the front door. When he had driven by earlier that day, he’d seen the small sign near the sidewalk, proclaiming this the Whistlestop Inn. The sight had surprised him. Another thing that had changed since he’d left town.

Always, he had envied Tess this old house with its two stories, peaked roof and deep porch corralled by rails. A wooden-slatted swing dangled from chains in the porch ceiling. He’d always wanted to sit in that swing, too. It overlooked rows of plants with big pink and yellow and orange blooms and the yard that ran down to the street.

The porch alone took up more footage than that piece of crap trailer he’d lived in growing up.

He stabbed the doorbell and stepped back. Inside the house, he heard chimes, followed by some screeching and a lot of loud laughter. The girls, again.

Smiling, he shook his head. Kids were the same everywhere. Grown-up fans were, too. The autographs he’d signed all across the country proved that.

Abruptly the inner door swung open. Through the screened door, Tess’s dark-brown eyes stared at him from a pint-size height. The kid could almost have passed as Tess’s double. In a few years, grown up, she no doubt would. She’d look amazingly like the Tess he’d left behind.

Now those eyes rounded like the mouth beneath it.

“Better watch it, kid,” he said. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you your face might freeze that way?”

Her features went slack. “Yeah, all the time.” She grinned. “My name’s not kid, Mr. Cantrell. It’s Nate.”

“So I heard. And my name’s Caleb.”

She sucked in a breath. “You mean I can call you that?”

He nodded.

“Wow.”

There went the eyes again. He chuckled. “What’s the deal, if you don’t mind my asking? Nate’s a boy’s name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She looked down, suddenly shy, the dark curls falling to hide most of her face.

He couldn’t help it. The urge came on him strong to tease her, just as he’d kidded her mama years ago, though Tess had been older then. “Can’t be your real name,” he said. “Come on, give.”

She paused, considering him for a moment, then stared at her feet. “Anastasia,” she hissed, her tone disgusted. She peeked out from under all that hair to see how he was taking the news.

“Hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. Now that he’d gotten himself into this, how should he handle it? “Well. Sounds like a right pretty name to me.”

“It does?” She looked straight at him again. “Nobody has that name but me.”

“That makes it pretty and special, then, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugging, she rubbed the toe of one shoe against the floor. “Ya coming in, or are ya just ringing doorbells for fun?”

He had to chomp down for a second on the corner of his lip before he could answer. “Is it fun?”

“Yeah. If nobody catches you.”

“Hmm,” he said again. “Well…” So far, he wouldn’t take any prizes for his conversational skills. Hopefully, he’d have more luck with Tess later. But if he wasn’t talking horses or rodeo, he sure felt at a loss when it came to kids. How could he answer this one? “Considering I did get caught ringing your bell,” he said slowly, “and by you…I’ll have to confess I was planning on coming in.”

“Really? C’mon.” She pushed open the screened door to let him in, then she turned and raced through the foyer. “Hey, guys,” she yelled at a level that could quiet an arena without a bullhorn. “You won’t believe who’s here!”

He stepped into the foyer.

And found Tess staring at him.

She looked good in a tight-fitting Western shirt, almost a twin to his own, but more feminine in pink with a rose at each shoulder. He couldn’t resist getting a full look at her snug jeans and brown cowboy boots.

Eventually, he worked his way up again to confront her unblinking gaze. He had frozen in the act of removing his Stetson. Dang. He was here to impress the woman, not stand gawking at her. Hurriedly, he swept his arm across his waist and bowed. “Well, hey. Didn’t see you standing there, ma’am.” He gestured between them. “The way we’re dressed, we might almost be related.”

Her mouth taut, she said nothing.

He frowned. “Aren’t you going to welcome me in?”

She took a deep breath and let it out in an exasperated sigh. “I think someone already did.”



CONSCIOUS OF Caleb behind her, Tess hurried across the foyer and into the dining room. She had deliberately steered him away from the opposite side of the house, where Nate and her friends had claimed the living room. That was the last place she wanted him to go, and Nate was the last person she wanted him to see.

“Why don’t we take a look at what I’ve pulled together,” she said over her shoulder, “and then we can be on our way.”

Or with luck, Caleb could leave on his own.

If she took care of all their business here and now, they might skip going out altogether. And if that didn’t work, maybe she could at least avoid a tour of the town with him until absolutely necessary.

Still shaken by his greeting, she plopped down into a chair at the long central dining table and waved at the empty seats. Her briefcase rested on the chair beside hers, where she felt thankful to have it as a barricade. “I didn’t expect you to stop in,” she said. “I thought we would just hit the road.”

Let him think she hadn’t a worry in the world about going out alone with him.

“Seems like your daughter had different ideas. She’s got the notion of Southern hospitality down pat.”

She froze, a file folder half out of her case. “Meaning, I haven’t?”

He considered. “Your welcome was on the cold side, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not used to having people in my home, uninvited.” That was rude. And so untrue. Sort of.

“Thought we settled the invitation part of it.” He eyed the smaller tables scattered in various parts of the room. “And looks to me like you’re used to feeding a herd. I saw the sign outside. How’s business?”

“Fine. But it’s not my concern.” He’d sounded surprised about the house’s transformation and looked at her now with his eyebrows raised. “My mother owns the bed-and-breakfast. I just happen to live here.”

“With Nate.”

“Yes, of course, with Nate.” She fought not to grind her teeth.

“And with your mother, of course. And your granddaddy.”

“No, my grandfather passed away a couple of years ago.” She had no idea why he would care, but he seemed oddly surprised by the news.

“Well,” he said, “surely you know if there are guests around the house or not.”

She shrugged. “I’m too busy working to pay much attention.”

“The real estate business keeps you hopping, huh? Never would have thought that, myself.” He gave her a piercing glance. “Guess I was right—things have changed around town.”

An even more touchy subject. “Some things,” she said tightly. Years ago, she could never have let him into this house. Would never have been able to face the consequences. She only wished he wasn’t here now. Part of her did, anyway.

Another part of her felt remorse. For Nate’s sake, she wished she could be nicer to him, could forgive him for the past. At the thought, she hardened her heart. Would Caleb feel any remorse for the way he had treated her?

“How many years has it been?” he asked. “About nine? Ten?”

With his questions, all thoughts of forgiveness fled her mind.

“About,” she muttered. She could tell him how long it had been since they’d last seen each other, down to the day. To the hour.

She folded her arms across her chest as if that could protect her. Too late. His questions had already triggered a whole list of thoughts she wanted—needed—to stay away from.

“This place never was an inn before,” he said thoughtfully. “What made your mother go into business for herself?”

“As I told you, my grandfather died. He left the house to her, and she decided to start the bed-and-breakfast.” Short and sweet and all he needed to know. She needed to get him out of here. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll concentrate on your business. I’ve got—”

Nate and her friends rushed into the room, their sneakers screeching on the polished floor as the girls skidded to a stop beside the table.

Tess’s heart sank.

“Caleb—” Nate shot a glance at Tess. “He said I can call him that, Mom.” She turned back. “Can you stay and have supper with us?”

“No, I don’t think—” Tess began.

“C’mon, Caleb,” Nate urged, her unblinking gaze on him showing she obviously hadn’t even heard Tess’s words. “We’re having a sleepover. We’re gonna grill hot dogs and burgers, and Gram’s making potato salad.”

“Yes, I am. The best red-potato salad you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Tess swallowed a groan and looked across the room.

Just inside the doorway stood Roselynn and Aunt Ellamae, wearing smiles as alike as rows of kernels on a corncob. Tess eyed them warily. With those two, you could never know what to expect next. Just like Nate, as a matter of fact. “Caleb and I have some paperwork to take care of,” she told them.

“Oh, sugar.” Southern sweetness dripped from Roselynn’s words. “You worked hard all day. Surely that can wait.”

“Yeah,” Ellamae added. “At least till after the fresh-made pecan pie.”

Caleb grinned, and he glanced from one eager face to another—all six of them. With great effort, only Tess kept her expression carefully neutral.

“Ladies,” he said, “I don’t see how I can rightly refuse an invitation like that one.”

Nate took him by the hand, and he rose to his feet.

Tess’s eyes stung. Her heart sank even lower.

“C’mon,” her daughter said. “Let’s go out back by the grill.” As she led him away, she added in a hoarse whisper, “Maybe you can do the burgers. Mom always burns ’em.”

The rest of the girls followed in their wake like a row of baby ducklings behind their daddy and mama.

Her own mother and aunt looked at her, looked at each other, still beaming, and then disappeared from the doorway.

Tess put her elbows on the table and her head into her hands.

This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. After almost a decade, Caleb couldn’t be back here again.

But he was. Talking about the past and the changes around here and how many years it had been. If it ever occurred to him to sit down and do the math…

That couldn’t happen, either.

Tess shot to her feet. Determination propelled her across the dining room. She had to get that man out of her house. Had to make sure he never set foot in it again.

Most of all, she had to keep him from ever finding out that Nate—her horse-crazy, rodeo-loving, rebellious daughter Nate—was his daughter, too.


Chapter Four

The evening couldn’t have gotten any worse, from Tess’s perspective. She curled up on her lawn chair in the shadowy backyard and tried not to groan.

With the burgers and hot dogs and potato salad long gone, supper had given way to the night’s entertainment.

Caleb.

He’d started in on tales of his life on the rodeo circuit, as if they had all come together to share stories over a cozy little campfire. Next thing she knew, they’d be toasting marshmallows over the grill and singing “Kumbaya.”

Sighing, she wrapped her arms around her upraised knees.

Nate and the rest of the girls sat cross-legged at Caleb’s feet. They stared up at him, their openmouthed looks of hero worship obvious for everyone to see. Even Roselynn and Ellamae had drawn their chairs over to the group, the better to hear his low drawl.

Traitors.

Yet, how could she blame them? Hadn’t he roped her in, too, just with different kinds of stories? Not anymore, though. Never again.

“How did you ever get out of that field?” asked Lissa Wright, Dana’s oldest child and Nate’s best friend.

“Didn’t that bull kill you?” another of the girls asked.

Nate rolled her eyes. “Of course not, silly. He’s here, isn’t he? Right, Caleb?”

“Right.”

Even from across the yard, Tess could see him struggling to keep from laughing.

“As for how I got out of there, it’s like this.” With every word his voice grew more animated, holding the girls enthralled. “I whipped off my bandana and blindfolded that bull so fast, he didn’t know what hit him. Got him so confused, he ran into a fence post harder than his own head. The darned fool knocked himself out.”

Her Aunt Ellamae, always given to plain speaking, responded with a very unladylike snort. “Caleb Cantrell, that’s a lot of bull, and you know it.”

He grinned at her. “He sure was, ma’am.”

Aunt El laughed.

Tess gave in to the groan she’d tried so hard to hold back and put her chin on her knees.

“Mom,” Nate called, starry-eyed in the lamps’ glow, “are you listening to all this?”

“I don’t know if I’m hearing it just right,” she said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. “It sounds almost too good to be true.”

The real truth was, except for the most exciting moments during his stories, when either Caleb raised his voice or the girls repeated in awestruck tones something he’d said, she hadn’t heard anything at all. From her seat, Caleb’s words came as a murmur. A low, sexy murmur. As much as the sound unsteadied her, she preferred not being able to hear him clearly.

Why would she want to know the details of the bait that had lured him away from her?

In the brief moment when everyone had turned to look at Tess, Caleb stared at her. His eyes shone as bright as Nate’s. Not with the glint of excitement, though. Those eyes, his solemn expression, his stiff shoulders, all showed he had caught the false enthusiasm in her tone.

It seemed to bother him. She didn’t understand why. But she didn’t care.

“What’s the biggest rodeo you were ever in?” Lissa asked.

“Well, let me think…”

Caleb broke eye contact with Tess, the audience focused on their star again, and Tess let her attention turn inward.

She knew nothing about Caleb’s biggest rodeo, but she would never forget his first one....

She’d known nothing about his dreams, either, when they’d first found each other in high school. Two lonely teenagers, they’d held on tight to a relationship made even more precious because it was theirs alone.

Their secret.

Yet a few months later, Caleb had left town—left her—to go off on the rodeo trail. When she didn’t hear from him right away, she told herself not to worry. He had sworn he would call. He would write.

When the weeks went by without a word, it grew harder for her to believe in his empty promises.

And when two months had passed and she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d had nowhere to turn. She couldn’t tell her mom. She’d die before she would confess to Aunt El. And wouldn’t survive if Granddad ever found out.

She couldn’t even risk telling her best friend, Dana.

She had to find Caleb.

And she did.

After weeks of online searches, she had finally tracked him down at a rodeo outside Gallup. She’d had to use most of her babysitting money to buy a round-trip bus ticket that would take her there and back the same day.

She had arrived at the arena just in time to find Caleb flushed with success at his first major win—and with two girls wrapped around him. One giggled into his ear while the other one planted a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek.

Her own cheeks flaming, Tess had approached the trio.

At first, Caleb looked as though he would deny knowing her. Then, he simply denied that he had any interest in her—by turning to walk away.

She stopped him, saying she had something important to discuss.

“Time to collect my prize,” he told her. “Come and watch, Tess. That’s what’s important. That’s what will save me from going back to some one-horse town with one-horse folks in it.”

Obviously, his statement included her.

Raising her jaw, she stared him down. Sheer willpower kept her from telling him how he’d made her feel. She’d never in her life been so hurt. So humiliated.

Stubborn pride prevented her from telling him about the baby. Instead, she blurted out the news she was getting married.

That didn’t interest him, either. He’d stood there, not saying a word, the silence hanging between them until, finally, he’d wished her well.

Best of luck, he’d said. Damn him.

Then they’d shouted his name over the loudspeakers, and even before he’d turned his lipstick-stained face from her, before he’d rushed off to claim his all-important prize, her heart had broken.

By the time she had walked away, she’d promised herself Caleb Cantrell would never know what he’d meant to her. And he would never know about their child....

In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the picnic table, someone moved toward her. She jumped. Gone so deeply into her thoughts, wrapped so completely in memories, she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. She looked up to see Caleb standing in front of her. It took her a long, startled moment to come to her senses.

When she did, she shot a glance past him, to find they were alone in the backyard.

She tried to rise from her lawn chair. Her legs, curled in one position for who knew how long, almost gave way. Staggering slightly, she managed to catch herself. Caleb didn’t seem to notice. Still, to her dismay, she imagined him reaching out to steady her. Could almost feel the heat from his hands washing through her, as cozy and warm as if she had been sitting all that time in front of the campfire she’d thought about. She felt an overwhelming desire to move closer, to have him wrap his arms around her.

Was she crazy? Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she eased away from him.

She’d been burned by Caleb once. Hadn’t that been enough?

Hoping her stiff legs would bear her weight, she moved aside and rested her hip against the nearest picnic table.

“Nice meal,” he said.

She nodded.

“Still got that pecan pie to go.”

“Yes.”

“Good company, too. But you didn’t seem to feel much like joining in the conversation.”

What could she say in response? Nothing Caleb would want to hear. She shrugged, hoping he would leave it at that.

He didn’t. Of course.

“Not into rodeo?” he asked.

Astonished, she stared at him. Could he really have asked that question? Could he have forgotten what happened the one and only time they’d been together at a rodeo? Or worse, did he not even care? She swallowed a bitter laugh. He didn’t care at all. Of course.

Why should she? “I was at a rodeo with you, Caleb. Or I should say, I followed you to one. Once.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. Not meeting her eyes, he said, “Sorry about that night.”

She shook her head again, this time in stunned disbelief. He’d tossed out the offhanded apology with as much care as he’d tossed paper plates into the trash after their supper.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “That one time was enough for me. I never had much interest in going to rodeos after that.”

“Look, I guess I got caught up in the win and wanted more.”

“More what? Fame and fortune?” Not more time with her. “You got that, didn’t you? And the stories to go with it.” She couldn’t resist adding, “But then, the rodeo didn’t teach you that. You always talked a good line.”

“Tess—”

She raised her hand to cut him off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Shouldn’t have wasted her breath. At least her apology had held some sincerity.

Caleb hadn’t changed, and she’d been foolish to think he might have. Even more foolish to hope she could ever feel close to him again. “Tell you what. Let’s just leave the past in the past, where it belongs. It’s history.”

“Yeah, but you’re part of my history. And I’m part of yours. No getting away from that.”

No, she couldn’t ever forget it. If he only knew how big a role their past played in her life every day…

A cold chill running through her now, she wrapped her arms around her waist, missing the warmth she’d so recently felt. “I don’t know where you’re planning to go with that, Caleb, but you can just stop right there. I won’t have any more interest in your story than I did in your rodeo tales.” She forced herself to stand straight again, abandoning the support of the picnic table. Then she steeled herself to look up at him. “Yes, I’m part of your history,” she agreed. “The part you left behind.”



EVEN THOUGH he now had his mind and hands occupied with two fistfuls’ worth of playing cards, Caleb had plenty of focus left to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Tess.

Or tried to have, more like it. She hadn’t listened to what he’d already said and wouldn’t let him get another word in edgewise. He had heard the hurt in her voice and knew part of him deserved the words she’d flung at him. Still, they’d stung.

He’d have protested, would have spoken up in his own defense, if her pint-size daughter hadn’t returned to the backyard to lead him away and into the dining room, where the other girls had gathered around the long table.

Tess eventually joined them. Reluctantly, he could tell.

He had to fight not to crush the cards in his fist.

Yeah, dammit, he’d left her behind. But he’d meant to come back. He’d sworn it. Only things hadn’t worked out that way. Life never did go the way you had it planned. Tess ought to know that. Hadn’t she said as much herself when she’d told him about her marriage not working out?

Besides, she’d come to him first. To deliver her good news.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on the cards. He looked around the dining room again at the scattering of small tables he’d seen earlier, when he’d first arrived and she had brought him into this room. She’d cut him off quick when he’d asked her about business.

She’d lied, too, saying things were fine.

When Nate had taken him to the back of the yard to get more charcoal for the grill, he’d seen the worn-out condition of the shed there and the broken-down fence sagging behind it. When he and the girls had put the card game on hold to rearrange the living room furniture for the sleepover, he’d seen the frayed edge of carpet behind the couch. Roselynn’s business wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He’d also bet real estate didn’t keep Tess as busy as she’d let on.

He would eat this handful of cards if she could prove either of those things to him otherwise.

Well, if she wouldn’t give him the truth, he would get it somewhere else.

She’d just headed into the kitchen to put the teakettle on.

He threw his leftover cards onto the pile on the table. While one of the girls shuffled the deck, he rose to straddle his chair backward, tilting it on its rear legs, moving closer to a small table for two placed against one dining room wall.

Roselynn and Ellamae sat there, polishing off a couple of pieces of Ellamae’s pie. Roselynn turned her attention to him.

“Caleb, may I cut you another slice?”

He nodded. “Just a sliver.”

When she handed it to him, he took a forkful, smiled his appreciation, then said, “The bed-and-breakfast here is new since my time. How long have you had it running?”

“Just a year now.”

“Things going well?”

A slight wrinkle appeared between her brows and she fussed with the pie server. She didn’t have Tess’s flair for avoiding answers, though. “Fair to middlin’, I guess,” she said finally.

Ellamae made a choking sound. “Roselynn, your nose is gonna grow. Fact is,” she said to Caleb, “the inn business is almost out the window.”

“No guests?”

“No guests.”

“We’ve had a few,” Roselynn protested. Then she sighed. “But not for a long spell.”

He couldn’t state the obvious, that Flagman’s Folly didn’t have enough going for it to make it a tourist attraction. She’d have to do something to draw them in. “Are you advertising?” he asked.

“That’s expensive.”

“True. But as people say, sometimes you’ve got to spend money to make money.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Roselynn lifted the empty pie plate. “Excuse me. I’ll just run this into the kitchen.”

When she’d gone, Ellamae chuckled. “Run’s the word, all right. Looks like you’ve just scared her off. Not something you’re used to with women, I’d reckon.”

“They’re usually headed in my direction,” he acknowledged. “Used to be, anyhow.”

“What happened?”

He blinked.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “I’m nosy. And I’m blunt. You ought to remember that from days past.”

“I sure do.” He laughed.

She was tough, too, and wiry, an older woman with graying hair and snapping dark eyes. Looked like any number of seasoned cowhands he could name. But Ellamae didn’t herd cattle. She had an even more demanding job.

Keeping the peace in this town.

Ellamae worked as the court clerk. As a teen, Caleb had been up at the judge’s bench a time or two, called in for jaywalking and riding with no lights on his bike—minor offenses not regularly requiring a court appearance. But in Flagman’s Folly, things didn’t always run the “regular” way. Another reason he’d left town at the first opportunity and never come back. Until today.

Judge Baylor kept a firm grip on his gavel inside the courtroom and out. And Caleb had always suspected Ellamae, with her direct way of dealing with folks, held as much power as the judge when it came to anything that went on around here.

Maybe that’s why she’d unbent once in a while and let him off the hook when the judge cracked down on him. Maybe it’s why she was conversing so freely with him tonight. And why he somehow felt he could trust her in return.

“We could use some straight talking right now,” he said, thinking of his earlier conversation with Tess. You could tell she and Ellamae came from the same family tree. Tess’s flat responses couldn’t have gotten any more direct, though in a closemouthed way that left him more frustrated than before. He sensed it wouldn’t be the same with Ellamae. But to get from her, you had to give. “As for what happened, I got bored with things. And then I got hurt.”

“Yeah, we heard about it. That bull tossed you six ways to Sunday, didn’t he?”

He nodded.

“I saw you limping some when you got here. Noticed it got worse after you stood at the grill a while. I thought that rehab place fixed you up.”

He shrugged. “After a long day, I get to feeling some aches.”

“Don’t we all.” She gave him a surprisingly sweet smile. “Well, you shoot pretty straight yourself, so I’ll tell you this. Roselynn might come back here ready to chat with you, but she won’t allow you much without a sugar coating on it. Tess won’t allow you anything at all.”

He nodded again.

“Found that out already, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “Then, it’s lucky you got me. I’ll flap my jaws in a good cause any day.”

Together, they shot glances toward the doorway. All clear.

“Okay, then.” Caleb tipped his chair forward another notch. “Start flapping.”



TESS PUT THE CARAFE of hot chocolate in the center of the tray and surrounded it with coffee mugs. The girls didn’t need the extra sugar this late, but since they wouldn’t sleep much tonight, anyway, that didn’t matter.

What mattered was what she needed, and that was to get rid of Caleb. To safeguard her peace of mind. Her sanity. And maybe to protect her heart. Something inside still hurt after that unfeeling apology he’d given her.

Roselynn came into the kitchen and set the pie plate on the counter near the sink. “Need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks.”

She looked over at the carafe. “You have enough for Caleb to have a cup of chocolate, too, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mom. But I would imagine he’ll be leaving any minute now.”

Leaving…as he’d done so long ago.

She tightened her grip on the handle of the carafe. How could that one word, that one thought, fill her with both bitterness and longing at the same time?

“I don’t know,” her mother said.

Tess started, afraid she had spoken her question aloud.

But Roselynn stood looking through the doorway. “It appears he and El have settled in for a nice little chat.”

“Oh, have they?” Tess grabbed the tray. If there was one thing Aunt El was known for, it was believing she knew what was best for everyone—and not hesitating to tell them.

Tess didn’t want to think about the earful Caleb might be getting. But she certainly wanted to put a stop to it. “Can you bring the napkins, please?”

“Tess…” Roselynn frowned.

“What’s wrong, Mom? Headache?”

“No…nothing. I’ll go get some more napkins from the pantry.”

In the dining room again, Tess saw her mother had been right. Caleb and Ellamae had their heads closer together than two sticky buns in a breadbasket.

She sailed across the room and plunked the tray on the table between them. Caleb backed off just quickly enough to keep from getting hit in the head.

A head that was as hard as that bull’s he’d been talking about earlier. She ought to know.

“Hot chocolate!” Nate yelled.

The girls dropped their cards and clustered around the smaller table. Tess kept busy pouring drinks and passing out not-quite-filled mugs. No sense inviting spills. Upholstery and rug cleaning were expensive.

She looked through the doorway of the room to the grandfather clock in the hall. Almost nine. The girls would be up for hours yet, if they ever did get to bed.

She’d had to laugh. All those empty guest rooms upstairs, and they had chosen to sleep on the couches and floor in the living room.

“It’s getting late,” she told them. “Time to go off to the other room, now.” At least that put them closer to their sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Come on in with us, Caleb,” Nate said.

Tess could have won money on that being her daughter’s next step. “No, Caleb’s going to be leaving.” Again, that word caught at her, made her want to sigh. Her voice shook just a bit as she added, “You girls go on.”

Up went the stubborn jaw. Another step in her daughter’s attempt to get her own way.

“But Mo-om,” Nate wailed. So predictable. “He’s drinking his hot chocolate, too.”

“He can drink it here.”

“Why can’t he come with us?” Nate’s bottom lip jutted out.

Tess gripped the edges of the tray. “Anastasia Lynn LaSalle,” she said evenly.

Lissa poked Nate in the ribs. “C’mon, Nate. When it’s all your names, you know you’re in big trouble.”

Before Nate could say another word that would get her in deeper, before Tess could add something she might regret, Caleb spoke up.

“You run off, now, like your mama says. I’ll see you girls in the morning.”

Tess turned to him. Bad enough her own daughter was trying to make the rules around here. She didn’t need him attempting to call the shots, too. She didn’t need him at all.

“I don’t think so, Caleb,” she said, her chin as high as Nate’s had been. “From now on, if we need to discuss any business at all, we’ll meet at the office.”

He smiled, took a sip of his chocolate, licked whipped cream from his top lip.

Tess set her jaw and glared at him.

“Fine by me,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. She’d never known him to give in so easily.

“Business. Office. Got it.” He smiled again and set the mug on his table. “But I will see the girls tomorrow morning, anyhow. At breakfast.”

“What?”

He swept his arm out, gesturing at the space around them. “This is a bed-and-breakfast. I assume your mama serves breakfast to her guests. As I’ve just decided to take a room here for the rest of my stay in town, I reckon that qualifies me for the meals.”

The girls broke into cheers loud enough to make the mugs on the tray rattle.

Or maybe that came from Tess’s suddenly shaking hands. She clutched the tray, wishing she could hold it against her like a shield. She needed some kind of armor against Caleb—because obviously no one else in the room planned to help her.

The girls were too occupied in high-fiving Caleb and each other. Aunt El was too busy smirking over the turn of events she’d probably brought about herself. And her mother…

Her mother was standing there smiling quietly, eyes aglow at the idea of a paying guest.

Tess swallowed a sigh verging on a sob of despair.

Much as she wanted to kick Caleb out of their home, she knew full well her mom couldn’t afford to turn away any source of income. And as she gazed into his shining green eyes, she realized he knew it, too.

Caleb had himself a room at the bed-and-breakfast for as long as he wanted it.

And Tess had hold of a time bomb with an ever-shortening fuse.


Chapter Five

As Tess crossed the downstairs entryway, the grandfather clock in the corner chimed.

Two in the morning.

Fighting back a yawn, she climbed the stairs to the second floor again. She’d known not to expect the girls to settle down any time soon, but her patience had deserted her. She’d decided a little friendly caution to the group couldn’t hurt.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/barbara-daille-white/the-rodeo-man-s-daughter/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.