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Cowboy at the Crossroads
Linda Warren


A child in need of help Five-year-old Nicki Prescott isn't coping with her mother's death - she's withdrawn, refusing to eat or leave her room. In desperation, her father, Cordell Prescott, makes a phone call that will change their lives…. A cowboy in need of a womanCord calls Dr. Becca Talbert, a close friend of his brother's, and asks her to come to Triple Creek Ranch to see Nicki. To help Nicki. She agrees, and her presence starts to make a difference. But Cord's gratitude soon turns into something more….A woman who loves them bothCord doesn't believe he has the right to love Becca, although he realizes she's falling in love with him. He feels responsible for his wife's suicide - or apparent suicide. But he's not sure he can resist what Becca's offering….






“Dr. Becca Talbert?”


Becca recognized that voice. For the past year and at the oddest times, she’d seen his face and the sadness in his eyes. “Yes,” she answered readily.

“This is Cord Prescott.”

She already knew that. But why was he calling her after a whole year without a word? She hadn’t seen him since his wife’s funeral.

“You may not remember me,” he said. “I’m Colton’s brother.”

“Yes, I remember you, Cord, and your little girl. How are you?” Over the past year she’d often asked Colton about Cord and his daughter. He always said they were “trying to adjust.”

“Not good,” he answered. “But I know you’re a pediatrician and I thought you might be able to help me with Nicki.” He paused and she could hear him drag in a deep breath. “I've taken her to several doctors, even a child psychologist, but she won’t talk to them. She insists on staying in her room, and she’s hardly eating. She’s lost so much weight I can’t stand it. She won’t talk about her mother. I think she’s making herself physically ill with grief. I’d really like to get your professional opinion.”

“Of course. I’d be glad to help any way I can,” Becca said instantly, her heart heavy at the thought of what Cord was going through.

There was another long pause. “Nicki doesn’t do well in an office setting. I was hoping I could persuade you to come out to the ranch and see her.”


Dear Reader,

Cowboy at the Crossroads is about Becca Talbert who first appeared in Emily’s Daughter. I’ve been asked so many times when Becca’s story is coming out. This is it. The wait is over.

Plotting Becca’s life wasn’t easy. She has this marching-in-where-angels-fear-to-tread personality. So how would the trauma of finding out about her birth affect her? Would she continue to feel angry and resentful or would she accept her life and make the most of it? And—equally important—what type of man would steal her heart? Those questions took me some time to sort through, and Cowboy at the Crossroads will give you the answers. It may not be what you expect, but I hope you’ll enjoy this journey with Becca as she finds love and happiness—her way.

Thanks for reading my books.

Linda Warren

P.S. Your mail is always welcome. You can reach me at P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805 or e-mail at LW1508@aol.com.




Cowboy at the Crossroads

Linda Warren








To my sisters-in-law, Sondra Siegert, LaVal Siegert, Melinda Siegert, Sandra Lenz and Betty Patranella, who have supported me wholeheartedly from the start. Thanks, ladies.

And thanks to Dr. Mark Fuller, DVM, and Randy Rychlik, paramedic, who shared their expert knowledge.

Any errors are strictly mine.




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE




PROLOGUE


WHAT SHOULD SHE SAY TO HIM?

Rebecca Talbert knew she had to say something, but when she looked at Cordell Prescott words eluded her. He sat on the sofa in a dark suit with his elbows on his knees and his hands clutching a glass of punch. That expression of loss and sadness twisted her stomach into a hard knot.

She hated funerals, especially when the person was so young and had died so needlessly. Anette Prescott’s death from alcohol poisoning had left not only a grieving widower, but a motherless four-year-old girl. Becca had never met Anette; in fact, this was the first time she’d actually met Cord. She knew Clay and Colton, his brothers; they were business associates of her father. Her parents were in Europe and she’d attended the funeral in their place. But she would have come, anyway, because she and Colton were close friends. There’d been a time she’d thought their relationship would develop into more, but the passion just wasn’t there. And she wanted that passion, the kind of deep, lasting love her parents shared. Based on her relationships to date, she had a feeling she was going to grow old looking for it.

Becca took a sip of her punch and glanced around. They were in the large family room of the Prescott ranch house, a room that was attractively rustic with wood beams on the ceiling, a stone fireplace and hardwood floors. Colton had told her the ranch-style two-story house had been built by his great-grandfather in the 1800s and there’d been Prescotts here ever since. Cord was the rancher in the family; he’d continued to run Triple Creek, while his brothers had opted for another way of life in the city.

As the grandfather clock chimed, Becca realized she had to leave, and soon. She was on duty at the hospital in an hour, and it was a thirty-minute drive back to Houston. She set her glass on a table. It was now or never. She had to offer her condolences to Cord, then make her way out to where the cars were parked. A few family and friends had returned to the ranch after the funeral, and Colton had insisted she come, although Becca felt a bit out of place.

She took a deep breath and walked over to the sofa. When she sat beside Cord, he didn’t move or acknowledge her presence.

“I’m so sorry about your wife,” she said. It sounded lame even to her own ears. He’d probably heard those words a hundred times today.

He still hadn’t responded, so she started to get up. She didn’t want to cause him any more stress than necessary.

Then his voice came. “I just wish I understood. Why? Why did this happen? Anette never drank that much. I just don’t understand it. And Nicki…” As he said his daughter’s name, his voice cracked.

Becca did what she would have done with anyone who was in that much pain. She put her arms around him. He murmured something she didn’t hear, and to her surprise, his arms locked tightly around her. She knew he had had a drink and she didn’t know what he’d done with it. Nor did she care. She only wanted to comfort him.

As his arms tightened, she became aware of his strength and the tangy masculine scent that filled her nostrils. He was different from his brothers—in appearance, in manner, in aspiration. Clay and Colton had blond curly hair and blue eyes. Cord’s hair was a darker blond with a slight curl and his eyes were brown. He also had a stylish mustache. Colton said that Cord took after their father with his love of the land. His brothers were businessmen and had never returned to the ranch after leaving for college, whereas Cord didn’t want any other life. His manner, too, revealed a directness, a simple honesty that was quite removed from his brothers’ more polished charm.

Becca didn’t know how long they sat there with Cord holding on to her like a lifeline. She didn’t mind. He needed to hold someone and he probably wasn’t even aware of who she was. How could Anette Prescott do this to him? she found herself wondering. Cord seemed so family-oriented, and he obviously worshiped his little girl. From what Colton had told her, she knew Anette had been in a state of depression. She’d always wanted a child and had gone through several fertility procedures before she conceived Nicki. But once the baby was born, she sank into postpartum depression. Since it had continued for at least four years, it had obviously turned into a psychiatric disorder, maybe hormonal in cause, maybe not. She apparently functioned reasonably well, so it wasn’t clinical, but she should have had some form of therapy. She could’ve gotten treatment, done something besides drink herself to death. Becca knew her opinion was tempered because of her medical training and because of the man trembling in her arms. But like Cord, she didn’t understand.

“Mr. Prescott.” A woman’s voice interrupted them. “I can’t find Nicki. I’ve looked everywhere.”

Cord drew away and got to his feet. He stood at least six foot two, much taller than his brothers. “Don’t worry, I’ll find her,” he said in a tired voice. “She’s been hiding a lot since her mother…” He stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Becca also stood, her heart aching for this man. “I’m sure she’ll feel better when she sees you,” she said softly.

He blinked distractedly at her. “Thank you, Becca,” he murmured, walking away.

He knows who I am. It was silly, but she couldn’t shake the warm feeling that gave her.

She hurried over to Colton. “I’ve got to get back to Houston,” she told him.

“I know, and I appreciate your coming.” Frowning, Colton ran one hand through his blond hair; until recently he’d worn it shoulder-length and she guessed he wasn’t used to this newly short style. “I saw you talking to Cord. Did he say anything?”

“Just that he doesn’t understand why this happened.”

“Yeah, none of us do.” He shrugged. “Cord keeps everything inside. Doesn’t let his feelings out. We’re worried about him.”

“Cord will be fine.” Blanche, Colton’s mother, spoke up. Becca had never met Blanche before today. She’d heard Colton talk about her for years, and it was quite an experience meeting her in the flesh. In her sixties, she dressed as if she were much younger. She wore a tight-fitting black dress that ended four inches above her knees. The plunging neckline showed off her ample breasts and the diamonds around her neck. Her bleached blond hair was styled in a stiff pageboy, but no amount of artifice could hide the aging on her face.

“Anette was never right for him, anyway,” Blanche was saying. “She hated the ranch and the cows and horses. I never figured she’d take the easy way out, though. I wonder who she thought was gonna take care of that kid upstairs. It certainly isn’t gonna be me.”

As Blanche walked off, hips swaying, Colton remarked with raised eyebrows, “Charming, isn’t she?”

Becca didn’t say anything. She could only stare after the woman in stunned silence. Blanche was crude and unbelievably hard-hearted. Still, Becca didn’t know why she was surprised; she knew the story of Blanche Duffy and Claybourne Prescott. Blanche had married Claybourne when she was eighteen. He’d been sixty. It wasn’t a love match—she’d wanted security and he’d wanted a son. His first wife and eldest daughter had died in a car accident. His second daughter, Edith, was still alive and in her seventies. She lived on the ranch, and Colton had mentioned that the relationship between Blanche and Edith was strained. Having met both ladies, Becca had no problem imagining the situation. Edith was a quiet, demure person, and Becca was sure that Blanche made her life a living hell. The Prescott family was an eccentric group, to say the least.

She kissed Colton’s cheek. “Talk to you later.”

“I’ll call when I get back to Houston,” he said.

Becca wished again that there was a spark between them. But they were just friends. Not for the first time, she wondered how Colton felt about her—whether he hoped for more than the easy companionship they now shared. They never discussed their relationship, but since Colton had opened a branch office of his computer company in Houston, they spent a lot of evenings and weekends together. Colton was almost forty, and if he harbored feelings for her, they had to talk about it. Why was she thinking about this today? she asked herself as she went into the foyer to get her purse. She and Colton had a good friendship and they were both adult enough to accept that. She glanced at her watch—three-ten. She’d better get moving.

Before she could reach the front door, she saw a small bare foot sticking out of a partially opened closet. It had to be Nicki. Becca opened the door and found a little blond girl sitting on the floor. Her curls were everywhere and her pink nightgown was wrinkled. She clung to a doll that was as big as she was.

“Hi,” Becca said.

Nicki didn’t answer. She buried her face in the doll’s hair.

“Your daddy’s looking for you.”

At the mention of her father, Nicki raised her head. Her eyes were brown and filled with the same sadness Becca had seen in Cord’s.

“I can’t find my mommy,” Nicki said in a tiny voice. “Daddy said she went to heaven, but I can’t find her.”

Becca’s heart crumbled inside her, and she dropped to the floor and gathered the child into her arms, just as she’d done with her father. Nicki nestled against her.

“My mommy tells me a story,” Nicki whimpered. “I can’t sleep until Mommy tells me a story.”

“I can tell you a story,” Becca murmured, gently brushing blond curls away from Nicki’s face. “I have a brother who’s seven and I tell him stories. He likes the ones about monsters and dragons.”

Nicki shook her head. “I don’t like monsters. They ’care me.”

“What kind of stories do you like?”

“The princess one” was her quick answer. “The princess with the fairy godmother.”

Why did every little girl love that story? Just wait, little princess, life will change your mind. There are no fairy godmothers in this world. And as for princes, forget it. They’re all frogs. God, was that cynical or what? She didn’t actually feel that way, did she?

She searched her mind, trying to remember the story. “Once upon a time there was a girl named Cinderella. She lived with her wicked stepmom and mean stepsisters. They made her scrub the floors and do the laundry, and they were very unkind to her.”

“That was bad,” Nicki said.

“Very bad,” Becca agreed. “Then one day her fairy godmother changed Cinderella’s rags into a beautiful dress, and a handsome prince came and saved her from the wicked stepmother. They rode off into the sunset on his big horse and lived happily ever after.” That was a drastically shortened version, but it seemed to satisfy Nicki.

Nicki stared at her with wide eyes. “My daddy rides a horse. Is he the prince?”

Before Becca could form a response, Cord appeared in the doorway. “Nicki, baby, I’ve been looking all over for you.” He reached down and drew Nicki out of Becca’s arms. As he did, his hand brushed against her breast, and a current of warmth shot through her whole body. This was crazy! His touch was innocent and unintentional and didn’t mean a thing. Her emotions were just highly charged.

Nicki hid her face against Cord’s shoulder, still clutching the doll. Cord stretched out his hand to Becca. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. As soon as he released her, she straightened her black dress with as much dignity as she could and picked up her purse.

“I can’t find Mommy,” Nicki whimpered.

Cord winced, and Becca could see that he was trying to maintain his own composure. “I know, baby, I know,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on Nicki’s head.

Becca had a hard time controlling her own emotions.

“Thanks, Becca,” Cord said. “I’ve got to get this one to bed.” He kissed Nicki’s cheek and headed for the staircase.

Becca stared after him with one thought on her mind. Yes, Cordell Prescott is a prince.




CHAPTER ONE


One year later

“I WANT BABIES AND A HUSBAND, and preferably not in that order,” Rebecca said as she took a swallow of champagne.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” her friend Ginger replied, studying the bubbles in her own glass. “Or maybe not enough,” she added reaching for the bottle on the coffee table. They were in Becca’s apartment after a big night of celebrating.

“Why aren’t I happy, Gin?” Becca asked woefully. “I just finished my residency in pediatrics. I should be happy, ecstatic. All the hard work’s behind me and now I can treat children like I’ve always planned. I don’t understand why I’m not happier.”

“Maybe you didn’t do it for yourself,” Ginger muttered. “Go to medical school, I mean.”

Becca’s head jerked up. “What are you talking about?”

“Maybe you did it for Emily and Jackson. Ever since you found out they’re your real parents, you’ve been trying to be the perfect daughter—doing everything to be the daughter they wanted. But hell, Bec, no one’s perfect. Not even you.”

“You’re drunk,” Becca said, refusing to believe a word Gin was saying. At seventeen, she’d found out that Emily, the sister she adored, was really her mother and that Rose, her grandmother and the woman she’d believed to be her mother, was not. It had been a traumatic time, but she’d adjusted.

“Maybe.” Gin hiccuped. “But the truth is a hard pill to swallow.”

“I’ve wanted to be a doctor ever since I can remember,” Becca said defiantly. “Finding out about my birth had nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, you started saying that in first grade. I want to be a doctor like my sister. Then bam, you find out your sister’s really your mother and you have to be a doctor. There wasn’t any other choice for you.”

Becca stared at Gin with a mutinous expression. They’d been best friends since kindergarten and they knew each other better than anyone. Gin always spoke her mind, and that sometimes got on Becca’s nerves—as it did now. She hadn’t gone to medical school to please her parents. Or had she? God, she needed more champagne. She grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass.

“You’re wrong, Gin,” she murmured under her breath.

“Let me ask you a question,” Gin said as she twisted her glass. “You have a month off before you join Dr. Arnold’s practice in July. What do you plan to do with that time?”

Becca’s eyes darkened, but Ginger didn’t give her a chance to speak. She answered her own question. “I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do. You’ll spend that month with your parents and Scotty, like you always do. You want babies? Well, doctor or not, you don’t seem to realize you need a man to accomplish that. And you haven’t had much of a social life in the past ten years, except for Colton who’s always hanging around—like a little puppy waiting for your attention.”

“Colton and I are friends,” Becca said in a cool tone.

“I bet you haven’t even slept with him.”

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“The man is forty years old, Becca. If he doesn’t want that kind of relationship, there’s something wrong with him.”

“Shut up! You’re making me angry.”

Ginger took a long swig of champagne and set the glass on the table. “Damn, that was good. Your dad doesn’t spare the bucks when he buys the bubbly.”

Becca knew what Gin was doing—changing the subject—but Becca wasn’t letting her get away with that. They had started this and they were going to finish it.

“My relationship with Colton is my business,” she snapped.

Ginger lifted an eyebrow. “Did I say it wasn’t?”

“You’re making snide remarks and I don’t like it.”

“Okay, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Becca sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Me, neither,” Ginger agreed, and stretched out on the sofa. “All I’m saying is if you want those babies, you have to do something about it. You have to have a life of your own.”

Becca settled back in her chair and didn’t say anything. She hoped she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, but she couldn’t shake the discontent inside her. She should be so happy. She’d finally graduated from medical school with a specialty in pediatrics, and her parents had thrown a big party to celebrate her achievement. They were proud of her and had invited all her friends and family—including Colton. When she’d first met him, she had disliked him on sight. He was intelligent, good-looking and far too sure of himself. But as she got to know him, her opinion changed, and she found that he had a softer, more vulnerable side. It was an appealing quality in such a driven businessman.

Because of Colton’s connection to her father, he spent a lot of time with her family. Did Colton think their relationship was more than friendship? Surely not. But after talking with Gin, she realized it was time to clear things up with Colton. She’d been saying that for over a year now and still hadn’t done anything about it. They’d both been so busy and…

Damn, what was wrong with her? Why was she finding fault with everything in her life? She glanced at Gin, who was now snoring into a cushion. Becca smiled. She treasured her bond with Gin and was glad they hadn’t lost touch after high school. Becca had come to Houston to live with Emily and Jackson after she’d found out they were her real parents, while Ginger had gone to secretarial school and had become a secretary to the CEO of an insurance company in Houston. They talked often, and Becca valued her opinion. That was why Gin’s words weighed so heavily.

Maybe Gin was right. She’d spent the past ten years being Emily and Jackson’s little girl. Even though she now had a medical degree, she still felt like that little girl. She had to find the woman inside, and maybe that meant leaving Houston…and her family.

How did she do that? She loved her family. As she yawned and stretched, she knew it would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do. But she also knew it was the only way to release this restlessness inside her—to find true happiness and all that crap. God, she’d had too much champagne. There was nothing wrong with her life. Oh, yes, there was. She wanted babies—babies with big brown eyes and…



IT TOOK BECCA TWO DAYS to recover from the hangover. She’d never drunk that much in her life, but she and Gin had really tied one on that night. It was a kind of release, she supposed. She’d worked so hard for so many years; she was exhausted, physically and mentally. A long rest and she’d be as good as new.

Gin was right about one thing, though. For a twenty-eight-year-old woman, soon to be twenty-nine, she spent too much time with her family. But she’d needed those years with Emily and Jackson and Scotty. They had connected as a family, and that was important to her. Leaving seventeen years behind hadn’t been easy, and in retrospect she realized she hadn’t. She had merged the two parts of her life, and she was happy with her relationship with Rose and Owen, her grandparents, the people who had raised her, as well as her relationship with Emily and Jackson. Then why…?

No, she wouldn’t do this. It was Monday morning and she didn’t have to go to work. It was her time off and she could do anything she wanted. Anything at all. Analyzing her life wasn’t on that list. Carrying her coffee cup, she went into the living room and sat down in her favorite chair. She started to call Gin, but realized she’d be getting ready for work. Becca would call her later.

Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting to her mother and the twists and turns in their lives. At seventeen, Emily Cooper had fallen in love with Jackson Talbert. Jackson and his father had come to Rockport, Texas, for a fishing trip. Rose and Owen, Emily’s parents, rented cottages to tourists. Since it was November, the cottages were closed for the winter months, so Owen rented them the spare room. At the time, Rose, who was forty, had just found out she was pregnant. Emily was very upset by the news. She was in high school and embarrassed by the whole situation. That was why she’d done things with Jackson she wouldn’t normally do. She’d wanted to get back at her parents. Well, that wasn’t the whole situation, of course. She’d fallen for Jackson, and fallen hard.

Soon after the Talberts left, Emily found out she was pregnant. It was devastating news, and Rose had berated Emily for her stupidity. After several attempts to reach the Talbert family without success, Rose insisted Emily give up the baby for adoption. Emily fought it, resisted, to no avail. Rose and Owen had their own child on the way and couldn’t help her. Besides, all her life Emily had planned to be a doctor, and Rose wasn’t letting anything interfere with that. In the end, Emily did what her parents wanted. After graduation, Owen took Emily to San Antonio, where the adoption had been arranged.

At the same time, Rose gave birth to a baby girl, who died after a few weeks. In a depressed and disturbed state of mind, Rose cancelled Emily’s adoption, and when Emily’s baby was born, Rose took her home and raised Rebecca as her own. Emily never knew. She went to college, then to medical school, never knowing the truth. Everyone thought Becca was Rose’s—even Emily.

For years, Emily had nightmares about giving her baby away, and when Jackson came back into her life, she told him about the pregnancy. He was angry at first, and then they set out to find their daughter—neither of them dreaming that she was so close.

Becca took a sip of coffee as she relived the heartache of that time. She’d felt so angry when she found out what Rose had done. She’d been furious with everyone, including Emily. Especially Emily. The mother who’d let her go. But eventually they had gotten through all the pain, and Emily and Jackson were more deeply in love than ever. Now they had Scotty, too. Rose and Owen still lived in Rockport, and Becca saw them as often as she could.

Forgiving was easy, but forgetting was sometimes hard.

Someone had once asked her what you do when you discover you’re not really who you thought you were. The answer was that you fall apart, then you pick yourself up and get on with your life. Now Becca was wondering if she should be making bigger changes in that orderly life of hers and—

The ringing of the phone stopped her thoughts. She put her cup down and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Dr. Becca Talbert?”

Becca recognized that voice. For the past year and at the oddest times she’d seen his face and the sadness in his eyes.

“Yes,” she answered readily.

“This is Cord Prescott.”

Becca already knew that. But why was he calling her after a whole year without a word? Why was he calling when they were practically strangers?

“You may not remember me,” he said, “but I’m Colton’s brother.”

“Yes, I remember you, Cord, and your little girl. How are you?” Over the past year, she’d often asked Colton about Cord and his daughter. He always said they were “trying to adjust.”

“Not good,” he answered. “Colton said you’re a pediatrician and I thought you might be able to help me.”

“With Nicki, you mean?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I know you’re busy, but I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

Becca curled her feet beneath her, settling more comfortably into the chair. “Tell me about Nicki.”

“I’ve taken her to several doctors, even a child psychologist, but she won’t talk to them. She just clings to me, and if I leave the room she screams and cries.”

“Then she hasn’t adjusted to her mother’s death?”

“Not at all,” he said. “She insists on staying in her room and she’s hardly eating. She’s lost so much weight I can hardly stand it. She used to love the outdoors, but she won’t even ride her horse. She won’t talk about her mother, and I’m at my wits’ end. I think she’s making herself physically ill with grief. I’d really like to get your professional opinion.”

“Of course. I’d be glad to help any way I can,” Becca said instantly, her heart heavy at the thought of what Cord was going through.

“Thanks, Becca. I’d appreciate it.”

“But I’m not seeing patients until July.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pause. “Nicki doesn’t do well in an office environment. I was hoping I could persuade you to come out to the ranch and see her.”

This time Becca was the one who was startled, but it didn’t take her long to decide. “I can do that. As a matter of fact, I have the afternoon free. Why don’t I drive out there today.”

“Thank you so much,” he said earnestly. “Do you remember where we are?”

“Yes. But Cord…you have to understand that I treat the body. Nicki may need a psychologist. I’ve had courses, but it’s not my specialty.”

“Just see her, that’s all I ask. Colton says you’re a very good doctor—and I trust his judgment.”

“Fine. I’ll be there around four o’clock.”

As Becca hung up the phone, she wondered what else Colton had told him about her. She shook her head. What did that matter? Nicki Prescott needed help, and she had to do everything she could.



CORD REPLACED THE RECEIVER with a long sigh. He remembered how comforting Becca had been the day of the funeral. He’d been so overwhelmed by anger, disillusionment and pain that he didn’t remember much, but he remembered Becca. And she would help his baby. She had to.

He hurried down the hall to the kitchen. Della, the housekeeper, was sitting on a stool, peeling potatoes. At sixty-five, Della was a high-strung woman who never seemed to tire or lose energy. She’d been with the Prescott family since Cord was a young boy. Her hair was now gray and her blue eyes not as sharp, but in other ways she was unchanged.

“What are we having for supper?” he asked.

“Roast. Why?” She didn’t look up, just kept on peeling potatoes.

“Because Dr. Talbert’s coming to see Nicki, and I’m going to invite her to eat with us.”

“Dr. Talbert?” Della raised her head, frowning. “Isn’t that Colton’s…friend? Becca, right?”

“Yes.”

“Does Colton know she’s coming?”

“No, and what difference does it make?” There was a note of exasperation in his voice that he couldn’t hide. He hadn’t called Colton because he didn’t want a lot of people around. He wanted to keep this as private as possible, for Nicki’s sake.

“None whatsoever,” Della replied, returning to her potatoes.

“Becca will be here to see Nicki, that’s all.”

“It’s time someone helped that child. She can’t go on like this much longer.”

“I know. That’s why I want this evening to be special—calm and quiet—so Becca can interact with Nicki.”

“Does the queen of the house know you’re having a guest for supper?”

“I don’t give a damn what Blanche thinks.”

“Your mother doesn’t like it when things are done without her knowledge.”

“You can tell Blanche—” He stopped and took a breath. “Never mind, I’ll handle Blanche. Just prepare an extra-special meal.”

Della glanced at him. “You’re very excited about this.”

“I am. My daughter’s life depends on it.”



AS BECCA WAS TRYING TO DECIDE what to wear, she thought about Nicki. The child should have adjusted to her mother’s death by now, but it was hard to judge with children. Trauma affected them differently. Becca could still hear her saying in that pitiful little voice, “I can’t find my mommy.” Death was so hard to explain to children, and Becca wasn’t convinced she could help Nicki. However, she’d certainly try.

She dressed in a tan pantsuit and brown blouse, then brushed her long brown hair and let it hang loose down her back. Working or at school, she always wore it pinned up or clipped at the nape of her neck. As a teenager, her hair was much longer, an unruly mane that used to drive Emily crazy. But these days Emily never complained about Becca’s hair. Considering everything that had happened in their lives, they got along exceptionally well.

Becca stared at her brown eyes and olive complexion in the mirror. Everyone said she was looking more and more like her mother. Becca had always thought Emily was beautiful, but she didn’t feel she was. Emily had a grace and sophistication that Becca felt she lacked. Becca was more down-to-earth in both temperament and appearance. She had far less patience than Emily and often lost her temper. Emily never did, and Becca envied that about her. Becca envied everything about her wonderful mother; maybe that was her problem.

She applied lipstick and forced herself to stop thinking. All this free time, all this soul-searching, was making her feel confused. And she wasn’t confused—she just needed to get her life and goals in perspective and then everything else would fall into place. Like her social life. Gin said she didn’t have one, but Gin was wrong. She’d dated several interns, and each occasion had proved to be an exercise in restraint. They thought sex was the normal conclusion to a date. She didn’t. She wanted love and passion—not just sex. Emily had told her when she was a teenager that sex without love was just an act and she would know when the time was right. So far, that time hadn’t happened for her. In high school, her boyfriend Tommy had pressed her continually for sex, but she’d never taken that step. Not with him or with any other man.

When she’d found out about her birth, her world had been turned upside down and she rebelled, dating guys Rose and Emily disapproved of. Still, she couldn’t degrade herself by sleeping with boys she didn’t care about merely to punish her family. Later she was so busy with her studies that love eluded her, and she refused to have sex without it. Her feelings on the matter had to do with her upbringing and with Emily’s influence. Now she was older and knew more about sex and life, but her standards hadn’t changed. She was waiting for the right man…and love. Any nice guys left out there? One came to mind and she quickly grabbed her purse. She didn’t want to keep a nice guy waiting.



BECCA HEADED FOR INTERSTATE 10 and drove out of Houston toward Beaumont. The city gave way to farmland and ranchland. Soon she saw the stone and wrought-iron entrance. The sign—Triple Creek. Prescott Ranch—appeared on a high arc above the cattle guard. She drove through, between wood rail fences, watching the grass sway gently in the breeze and the cows and horses grazing. The land was mostly flat with creeks and valleys; here and there she noticed some beautiful old oak trees.

The white stone ranch house came into view. Sprawling and roomy, it had a long front veranda with stone pillars and a wrought-iron fence that enclosed the backyard. She parked in front, grabbed her medical bag and walked to the door. She rang the bell, which she heard resounding throughout the house.

Cord opened the door, and for a moment Becca was speechless. He had on worn boots and jeans with a blue cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up. His dark blond hair was combed neatly and curled onto his collar. His mustache and honed masculine features told Becca that here was a true Texas cowboy. That wasn’t an idle impression. She knew from what Colton had said that Cord’s appearance was a true reflection of his personality and his calling.

His mustache moved slightly as he said, “Come in, please. Sit down.”

Becca walked past him through the large foyer and into the den. She took a seat on a leather sofa.

Cord watched her for a second, then sat opposite her in a matching leather chair. A saying he’d heard many times from Gus, his ranch foreman and Della’s husband, came to mind. That gal’s been spit and polished until she shines. Cord never paid much attention to Gus’s sayings, but looking at Becca, he knew what it meant. Becca with her bright smile and sophisticated manner caught his eye like a shining star. No wonder Colton was so enamored of her.

“Thank you for coming. I’m really grateful,” he said before he got completely sidetracked.

“You’re welcome,” Becca answered, glancing around. “Where’s Nicki?”

“Upstairs in her room. As always.”

“She’s been in her room all day?”

“Yes. The only time she comes out is when I force her, and it’s getting increasingly hard to do that since she cries most of the time.”

“That’s not good, Cord,” she said in a solemn voice.

“I know—and I’m hoping you can figure out what to do,” he replied.

She saw a familiar sadness in his brown eyes, but it was much more intense than the last time, and something in her reacted strongly to that—just as before.

“Can I see her?” she asked with a catch in her voice. “I’d like to examine her.”

“Sure.” He got up and led the way toward the stairs. At the bottom, he stepped aside to let her go first. She wore medium heels and felt dwarfed by his height. But it wasn’t only that. She was very aware of Cord Prescott—as a man. Maybe it was the cowboy thing. That persona intrigued her, as it did most women. Or maybe she just empathized with him because of what he was suffering, because of his grief and his fear for his daughter.

“Second door on the left,” Cord said as they reached the landing. There were hardwood floors throughout the house and beautiful area rugs. A lot of the furniture was antique, probably dating from when the house was first built. Portraits of Prescott men were displayed on the wall of the staircase. Becca remembered Colton telling her that all the Prescott men’s names began with the letter C; it was a tradition kept alive from generation to generation. She wondered why there were no pictures of Prescott women or wives. They could be in another area of the house, she supposed, and she would definitely ask Colton about it.

Cord opened the door and they went inside. Nicki sat in a children’s rocker clutching the same doll she had a year ago. Becca was dismayed by what she saw. The child’s blond curly hair was neatly combed and in pigtails, and she wore pink shorts, a matching top and sandals—but her cheeks were hollow and her little arms and legs were so thin. She reminded Becca of anorexic teenagers she’d seen. What had happened to this child?

Cord squatted beside her. “Baby, we have company. Do you remember Becca?”

Nicki hid her face in the doll’s hair. Just as she had a year ago.

Becca knelt on the floor. “It was a long time ago, but I told you the story about Cinderella and the prince. The prince who rode a horse like your daddy. Do you remember?”

Nicki shook her head and didn’t look at her.

“Would you like me to tell you another story?”

Nicki shook her head again, but Becca wasn’t giving up.

“I know lots of stories,” Becca said. “Of course, most of them are about monsters or scary stuff that my brother, Scotty, likes. But we’re girls and we don’t care for that kind of nonsense, do we.”

Nicki still didn’t answer and seemed to burrow into the chair.

“Baby, Becca asked you a question,” Cord said softly. Nicki still didn’t respond. “Look at me, baby,” Cord added in that same soft tone.

Nicki slowly raised her head and stared at Cord. “I’m tired, Daddy. Make her go ’way.”

Becca’s heart sank, although she didn’t know why, since she hadn’t expected any miracles. It was just so painful seeing the child in this condition.

“I’m a doctor, Nicki,” she told her. “I’m going to check your vital signs. Is that okay?”

Nicki didn’t answer, but Cord nodded. Becca opened her bag and took out her stethoscope. Nicki’s signs were weak, and Becca knew she was in a danger zone. Her first reaction was to get her to a hospital immediately, but something held her back. The hospital would only frighten Nicki, and she wanted to try a different approach first.

“Daddy, make her go ’way,” Nicki whimpered, when Becca had finished her exam.

“Okay, baby,” Cord said, smoothing Nicki’s hair. Becca noticed that his hand shook slightly. “Della made some chocolate chip cookies. Why don’t I get you one.”

“Not hungry.”

“Please eat something, baby.” The ache in Cord’s voice squeezed Becca’s heart until she had trouble breathing.

“I’m not hungry, Daddy.”

“Okay, baby,” Cord said, and kissed her cheek. He got up, and they walked back down the stairs and into the den.

Cord started to pace; she could see he was terribly upset. “I can’t take much more of this. I can’t stand to see her in this state.”

“Yes, she has deteriorated. Her body’s starved for nourishment, she’s dehydrated and her heart is weak.”

“I don’t know what else to do!”

Becca knew it was time for some hard truths, and Cord wasn’t going to like what she had to say. But in the few minutes she’d been with them, she could see what part of the problem was.

“Are you familiar with the term enabler?”

He stopped pacing and stared at her. “What?”

“An enabler, Cord. That’s what you are. You’re enabling Nicki to stay in that room. You’re enabling her not to eat. You’re enabling her to do whatever she wants.”

His eyes darkened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“If Nicki doesn’t want to eat, you don’t make her. If she wants to stay in her room, you let her. You’re giving in to her every whim—and it has to stop.”

His eyes became blacker, if that was possible. “My God, you want me to force her to eat and to drag her out of her room?”

“I’m afraid so,” Becca admitted.

“After what my daughter’s been through, I would never do that to her.”

Becca swallowed the constriction in her throat. “It’s called tough love, and you have to do something, or Nicki will not survive this. Can’t you see that?”

Cord swung away in anger, then swung back. “I think you should leave,” he said in the coldest voice she’d ever heard. “You’re not the doctor or the woman I thought you were.”




CHAPTER TWO


“NO,” BECCA SAID without blinking.

“Excuse me?” Cord said, and she was chilled by his scorn.

“You asked me to help Nicki, and I’m not leaving until I get that chance.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

She watched the stubborn look on his face and knew he was struggling with his own emotions. He didn’t want anyone to hurt Nicki—ever again. He wanted what was best for his child, but he was blinded by love.

“Sorry, it doesn’t work that way,” she told him. “I’m here and I’m staying. You can clearly see that Nicki needs help. That’s why you called me. At her age, her muscles and bones are developing, but without nourishment, that growth is being hindered. You may not like my methods, but for Nicki’s sake, you have to give me a chance.”

“I won’t allow her to be upset.”

His voice wasn’t as angry or cold as before, and Becca felt a glimmer of hope. “Is being upset worse than the almost catatonic state she’s in now?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at her with brooding eyes.

Becca kept on. “She’s going to get upset, Cord. You might as well resign yourself to that. She’ll be reacting to external stimuli, and that’s what she needs instead of this inert passivity.”

He ran both hands through his hair in a weary gesture and sank into a chair. “I just can’t take it when she cries.”

At the pain in his voice, she took a deep breath. “Why don’t you go outside and let me spend some time with her,” she suggested, knowing she would get nowhere with Nicki if Cord was around.

His eyes met hers. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You have to,” she said, her eyes not wavering from his. “I have to reach Nicki on some level, and I can’t do that with you present.”

He didn’t say anything and Becca added, “At this point she needs to be in a hospital unless I can do something with her right now. You can either let me try, or call for an ambulance. It’s your choice.”

His face turned white and he drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Fine, you have until eight o’clock. Just be very careful, Becca. There is just so much I’ll allow.”

“I will not do anything that will harm her physically or mentally.”

“That’s all I need to know,” he said as he moved past her.

“Cord,” she said, and he turned back. “If you hear Nicki crying, please don’t come inside.”

There was a moment of indecision in his eyes, then he walked out the door.

Becca removed her jacket as she went into the kitchen. She had a plan in mind and it started with dinner. A gray-haired woman was putting meringue on a pie.

“Hi.” Becca smiled. “I’m Becca Talbert and I’m hoping you’re the housekeeper.”

The woman glanced up. “That’s me. My name is Della. What can I do for you?”

“What time does Nicki usually have dinner?”

“Dinnertime is six o’clock, but with the way that child eats, it’s anybody’s guess.”

“I’m not trying to be nosy, but could you tell me how many people will be here for dinner?”

“Edie eats in her room and Blanche is out, as usual, so there’ll be you and Cord.”

“I see,” Becca murmured. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re preparing?”

Della lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a popular question today, but we’re having roast, new potatoes, carrots and fresh green beans.” She pointed to a pan of rolls. “Homemade rolls are rising, and I just finished making a chocolate pie.”

“Does Nicki like any of these things?”

Della shrugged. “When Anette was alive, Nicki ate almost anything. She loved chocolate pie. Used to stick her finger in the chocolate and lick it off and Anette would get mad. She wanted Nicki to be a proper lady and act like a grown-up.” Della shook her head. “The woman was very peculiar.”

“Sounds as if you didn’t like her.”

“Like?” Della seemed to study the word for a moment. “Can’t really say. All I know is she got on my nerves. Too damn picky. All the food for Nicki had to be cooked at a certain temperature and it couldn’t stay out too long and she wanted everything made from scratch. She also insisted that Nicki eat at certain times, never mind the rest of the household. In that case, I told her, she needed to cook the food herself, but she never did. I don’t think she knew how to cook. She was a city girl with city ways and she hated this ranch.”

“But she loved Cord and Nicki?” Becca knew she was gossiping but she couldn’t resist. Besides, she told herself, she might learn some valuable piece of information, some fact that might help her.

“Oh yeah, that’s why she stayed.” Della put the meringue bowl in the sink. “I never knew she was drinking so much and neither did Cord. She hid it well. Such a tragedy.” Della shook her head again. “Cord locked up her room and nothing in there’s been touched since.”

It was a tragedy, Becca thought, and now it was time to heal—for the whole Prescott family. “Colton mentioned that she’d been on antidepressants, too.”

“That’s right. After Nicki was born, she just seemed to hit rock bottom. On the days she felt really bad, Edie or I would watch the baby. Cord wanted to hire a nurse, but Anette wouldn’t have it. She wanted to care for her child. She really did.”

“Then, Anette was a good mother.”

“Yes, even I will admit that. Nicki was never out of her sight for long. I guess that’s why the little one’s taking this so hard.”

Becca brought her concentration back to the present and Nicki. She’d been gossiping too long with Della. Something she didn’t normally do, but she was very curious about Anette. And Della had definitely filled in some of the background facts.

“Would you please set a place for Nicki at dinner?” Becca asked.

Della turned from the sink with a startled expression. “She’s coming down to eat?”

“Yes,” Becca said with more confidence than she was feeling. “I’m going up to see her now, and Della, if you hear her crying or complaining, please don’t interfere.”

“Does Cord know about this?” Della inquired, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Yes,” Becca answered, heading for the stairs. As she walked up, she silently prayed that she could get through to Nicki. She opened the door and found Nicki sitting exactly as they’d left her—and Becca knew she had to use drastic measures to shock Nicki back into the real world. To do that, she had to be strong and keep her emotions in check.

She knelt in front of the rocker. “Hi, Nicki,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Becca. I told you that before, remember?”

No response, as she had expected.

“I’m a doctor and I take care of girls and boys. If they don’t feel well, I try to make them feel better. Do you feel bad?”

No response.

In Becca’s experience, it was sometimes easier for a child to talk through an object like a toy. She focused on the doll in Nicki’s arms. “What’s your doll’s name?”

Again no response.

She sat on the floor in a comfortable position. “I had a doll similar to that when I was your age. My sis—” She stopped as she realized she was about to say sister—a minor slip of the tongue. It was so hard to think of Emily as her mother when she remembered herself at that age. Lord, she was getting sidetracked and it was a weird feeling, but one she could handle. “Actually, my mother bought me the doll. She bought me lots of dolls, but I liked that one best. I named her Chocolate because I love chocolate, and I called her Coco for short. Does your doll have a name?” Becca held her breath as she waited.

Nothing.

“It’s important for a doll to have a name, don’t you think?”

Still nothing.

“She has blond hair like you, so is her name Nicki?”

Nicki rubbed her head against the doll’s. “Dolly,” she murmured.

“That’s nice,” Becca said, grateful for a response. She knew that if she kept talking, kept pushing, Nicki would respond in some way. She was hoping for a positive reaction, but she’d take anything at this point. “Does Dolly like to eat?”

Nicki shook her head.

“That’s a shame, because Della’s prepared this wonderful meal. I was just down in the kitchen and the smell alone was a real treat. She’s made this chocolate pie that has a fluffy meringue about three inches thick. Do you like chocolate pie?”

“No. Go ’way. I don’t like you,” Nicki said in a defiant tone.

Good, Becca thought. Now they were getting somewhere. She had to keep pushing.

“You don’t have to like me, but I’ve come all this way to see you and I expect you to eat dinner with me.”

“I’m not hungry. Go ’way.”

Becca reached up, and caught Nicki’s face with both hands and forced the child to look at her. “I’m not going away and you’re coming downstairs to eat.”

“No.” Nicki spat the word. “Daddy says I don’t have to and you can’t make me.”

Becca still held her face and looked into those angry eyes. “I’m going to pick you up and we’re going downstairs.” As she said the words, she got to her feet and gathered Nicki in her arms. This action was met with resistance. Nicki began to cry “No, no, no” and hit at Becca with her free hand and her feet. Becca kept walking; the blows to her face, neck and legs didn’t stop her. Halfway down the stairs, Nicki began to scream, blood-curdling screams. Becca still didn’t stop.



CORD JUMPED TO HIS FEET when he heard the screams. He ran for the patio door, then halted abruptly when he heard Becca’s words. “Please don’t come inside.” He turned and went back to his chair, but the screams continued. What was she doing to his baby? He marched back to the door and stopped again. God, how was he supposed to handle this? He wanted his child to get better, but he couldn’t take this. Each scream was tearing his heart out. He grasped the doorknob.



WHEN BECCA REACHED the bottom step she sat down, with Nicki still fighting and screaming in her arms. Suddenly Becca screamed as loudly as Nicki. Nicki stopped and stared at her with tear-filled eyes.

“I can scream as loudly as you,” Becca informed her in a calm voice. “So are we going to scream or eat dinner?”

“I don’t like you,” Nicki muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“I don’t like you too much right now, either,” Becca replied.

“You’re mean,” Nicki said crossly.

“I don’t want to be mean,” Becca told her.

Nicki didn’t answer. She still had a death grip on Dolly, who was looking a little worn and tattered. Now was the time for a softer approach.

“Dolly seems so sad,” Becca said.

“She is,” Nicki told her.

“Oh, that’s too bad. What do you think will make her feel better?”

Nicki shrugged.

“Chocolate always makes me feel better.”

“Candy?” Nicki’s eyes opened wide. She was talking, asking questions. That was good—very good.

“Yes, when I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, a chocolate bar perks me right up.”

“It does?”

“Sure does, but even though I love chocolate, chocolate doesn’t love me.”

“Why?”

“Because when you get to be a woman my age, you have to watch your weight and if I eat a lot of chocolate, my butt gets bigger and bigger.”

“You got a big butt?”

Becca laughed out loud. She couldn’t help it. Why in the world had she said that? She just wanted to keep Nicki talking, and the words seemed to come of their own volition. How could she correct this?

Before she could gather her wits, Cord came charging in, Della right behind him. Nicki immediately crawled off Becca’s lap and ran to her father. He picked her up and held her tight.

“How’s my baby?” he whispered.

Nicki pointed a finger at Becca. “She’s mean. I wanna go to my room.”

Just like that, Nicki had reverted to her old self. Becca got to her feet. Her eyes locked with Cord’s. Don’t you dare was flashing in their depths, and she hoped he got the message.

Cord received the message loud and clear. Thirty minutes ago he would’ve taken Nicki back upstairs. When he heard her scream, it was a certainty. Then he’d gone into the den and heard Nicki talking to Becca in a normal tone of voice. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she was interacting with Becca—something she hadn’t done with anyone in a long time. Now he had to look at himself. Was he an enabler, as Becca had said? Was he enabling Nicki to be the way she was because he didn’t have the strength or the courage to do anything else? Yes, he was. He could see that. Now he had to try some of that tough love Becca had talked about. Nicki’s future depended on it.

“No, baby,” Cord said with every bit of strength he possessed. “We’re eating dinner in the dining room. Della has the table all set.” Without another word, he moved toward the door.

“’Kay, Daddy,” Nicki said meekly, and laid her head on his shoulder.

Cord let out a long breath. If she’d started crying, he still would have made her, but this was so much easier. Becca was right; he had to be firm.

Becca followed them into the large dining room. As Cord settled Nicki in her chair, Becca glanced around. The furniture was exquisite and definitely antique. She guessed the late 1800s. The table could easily seat twenty people. There was also a hutch and a china cabinet. The entire set was made of dark wood and decorated with an ornate design that was unlike anything she’d ever seen. The carving had to have been done by hand. She also noticed the china in the cabinet, which was old and very beautiful. She’d bet it wasn’t used anymore because of its fragility, but it was a pleasure just to look at.

Becca took her seat next to Nicki, and Cord sat at the head of the table. Della brought the food to the table without a word. Afterward she said, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Della,” Cord said, and began to fill his plate and Nicki’s.

“I’m not hungry,” Nicki said with her arms tight around Dolly.

The silence became strained, and Becca could see that Cord was struggling with himself again. She had to do something, and fast. She did what came naturally—she talked.

“My, this looks wonderful,” she said as she dished roast and potatoes onto her plate. “In the hospital, I eat in the cafeteria and it’s not the most appetizing food. The vending machine and I are best friends. Of course, it’s not very healthy so I try not to indulge too often. But sometimes the mind and the stomach aren’t in agreement.” As she talked, she mashed Nicki’s potatoes with her fork and dipped gravy onto them. Then she lavishly buttered a roll and placed it beside the potatoes.

As Cord watched her, he thought, Anette used to do that. She’d make the food appealing so Nicki would eat. Maybe he should’ve been doing that.

“These potatoes are delicious, don’t you think so, Cord?”

He blinked and realized Becca was talking to him. She stared pointedly at his fork, and he realized she wanted him to start eating. He recovered himself and began to do just that.

“Yes, yes, the potatoes are great,” he said, following Becca’s lead.

“Della said they were new potatoes. Does that mean she grows them?”

“Gus does,” Nicki chimed in. Until that moment, she hadn’t said a word or even attempted to pick up her fork, but she was avidly watching Becca.

“Gus?”

“That’s my ranch foreman,” Cord answered, as Nicki didn’t say anything else. “He and Della have been here since I was a kid. They live in a small house not far from this one.”

“Well, Della can certainly cook. I’ve never tasted food so good. And this roll—” she took a bite and purposefully swallowed “—is about the best thing I’ve put in my mouth. I remember one time, my friend Ginger and I decided to make cinnamon rolls. The concept of yeast rising clearly escaped us and our rolls were like pancakes with cinnamon. So I admire anyone who can make rolls like this. It definitely takes talent and patience.”

Becca’s voice drummed on inside Cord’s head. The woman had one button—On—and she rattled incessantly about anything and everything. He was almost ready to scream stop, when he saw Nicki reach for her fork. Slowly she began to eat the potatoes, then she picked up the roll and took several bites. Cord kept eating, watching this miracle out of the corner of his eye. Becca’s voice hummed on, and it was the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard. He now knew what she was doing—distracting Nicki so she wouldn’t feel forced to eat…and it was working. His baby started eating, and before he knew it almost all the food on her plate was gone.

Becca was also watching Nicki closely. She leaned back in her chair. “My, that was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

Nicki also leaned back. “Me, too,” she said.

Della brought the pie out and set it on the table with a knife and plates. Then she began to collect the dinner plates.

“I’ll help you, Della,” Becca offered.

“No, you won’t,” Della was quick to say. “That’s my job. You can cut the pie and serve it.”

Becca didn’t argue. She picked up the knife and cut three pieces. She handed one plate to Cord, placed one in front of Nicki and took the third for herself. She stuck her fore-finger in the chocolate and tasted it. “Mmm. That’s delicious.”

Nicki scrambled to her knees and Dolly fell to the floor. Nicki stuck her finger in the chocolate as Becca had done. “Mmm, it’s good,” she said.

“Oh, I love chocolate,” Becca said as she reached for her fork. “I could eat this whole pie myself.”

“It’s gonna make your butt bigger,” Nicki said as she put a spoonful in her mouth.

Becca almost spit the chocolate onto the table.

“Nicki!” Cord admonished.

“What?” Nicki looked at Cord with big, innocent eyes.

Becca swallowed quickly. “It’s okay, Cord. Nicki and I were talking about this earlier. It’s really okay.” It was an effort to keep her face from turning red, but she managed.

Cord couldn’t figure out why Becca was talking to Nicki about big butts. That made no sense. Besides, Becca didn’t have a big butt. She was very slim with curves in all the right places and—he put skids on that thought. She was Colton’s girlfriend and he’d do well to remember it.

After they finished their pie, Becca smiled at Nicki. “You have chocolate all over your face.”

A look as if she’d done something wrong came over Nicki, and Becca wanted to quickly dispel it. “But that’s okay because I’ll just lick it off.” Becca tasted chocolate from Nicki’s cheeks with her tongue, and Nicki giggled. “You’re like one big chocolate bar and I could eat you up.”

“No, don’t eat me.” Nicki giggled more loudly and it was a delight to Becca’s ears. A hospital wasn’t going to be necessary; Nicki just needed some tough love. Now she had to make Cord understand that. Finally she reached for a napkin, dipped it in water and wiped Nicki’s face.

Anette used to do that, Cord thought again. She always wiped Nicki’s chin and cheeks with a napkin—but she’d never lick food from Nicki’s face. That was too undignified. And she would never permit Nicki to laugh at the dinner table. Anette had all kinds of ridiculous rules. They had argued about them all the time. He believed children should be allowed to be children, and Anette—

Cord got to his feet. “Let’s go into the den so Della can clean up.”

“’Kay, Daddy,” Nicki said, crawling out of her chair and scooping up her doll. Becca followed them, trying to think of something to occupy Nicki. She didn’t want her going to her room just yet. Cord sat in his chair and Nicki climbed onto his lap.

“Let’s play a game,” Becca suggested.

Nicki frowned at her and that same frown was echoed on Cord’s face, but it didn’t bother Becca. Nicki needed to act like a normal child.

“I know,” she said, a game they often played in the hospital coming to mind. “I’ll mention an animal, and you have to act and sound like that animal. The one who’s the best animal wins.”

Two pairs of brown eyes stared blankly at her. The Prescotts were not cooperating.

“Okay, I’ll go first.” She thought for a second. “A chicken. I’ll do a chicken.”

She tucked her hands under her armpits and flapped her elbows like wings, then pranced around the room squawking.

Nicki laughed out loud and pointed a finger at Becca. “You’re funny.”

Cord was hypnotized by the sound. Nicki had giggled earlier, but he hadn’t heard her laugh outright in so long that for a moment he felt winded by the pleasure.

“Okay, funny pants.” Becca grinned. “It’s your turn. Let’s see. A cow. You have to do a cow.”

Nicki jumped out of Cord’s lap, the doll falling to the floor again. “I can do a cow. I can,” she said as she got on all fours and trudged around the den going “Moo, moo, moo.”

“That’s about the best cow I’ve ever seen. What do you think, Cord?”

“The very best,” he agreed. “Better than any of the cows I have in my pastures.”

His eyes met Becca’s, and for an instant something seemed to pass between them, but Becca was sure she’d only imagined it.

“It’s Daddy’s turn,” Nicki called, interrupting the moment. “Daddy has to do one. What can Daddy be, Becca?”

Becca eyes gleamed because Cord was clearly resisting the idea. “A horse. I think Daddy should be a horse.”

“Me, too,” Nicki agreed brightly, and pulled Cord to his feet. He had that I’ll get even with you look in his eyes, but he got down on his hands and knees and crawled around the room with an occasional “Neigh.”

Nicki crawled onto his back and shouted, “Giddyup, giddyup, horsey.”

Cord laughed, a sound that came from his heart, and rolled over and held Nicki in the air as her delightful giggles filled the room.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Blanche demanded from the doorway, then glanced at Becca. “And who the hell are you?”

“Becca Talbert,” she answered stiffly, taking in Blanche’s tight-fitting red dress and heels.

“Colton’s girfriend? Is Colton here?”

Cord swung to his feet in one easy movement, Nicki held tight in his arms. “No, he isn’t.”

“Then, what’s she doing here?”

Becca bit her tongue to keep a retort from tumbling out.

“I invited her,” Cord said woodenly.

“You’re fooling around with Colton’s girl? I won’t have this, Cord.”

“Please, Blanche, acting like a mother is out of your league, so give it a rest. I’ve got to get Nicki to bed.” Exhausted from the unaccustomed exertion, Nicki was falling asleep on his shoulder.

“Cord,” Becca called after him. “It’s getting late, so I’ll be going.”

He looked back at her. “Could you wait for just a minute? I’d like to talk to you. This won’t take long.”

“Sure,” she said unenthusiastically. Spending time with Blanche was like spending time in a room full of red wasps. Didn’t matter what you said or did, you were gonna get stung.

As Cord left, Blanche went over to the built-in bar and poured a glass of scotch. She raised the glass to Becca. “What’re you up to, sugar?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Becca said, reaching for her jacket.

“Sure you do,” Blanche muttered. “You’re playing my boys against each other.”

Becca opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. She wouldn’t dignify that statement with an answer. It wasn’t any of Blanche’s business, anyway. This was between her and Cord.

“Let me give you some advice, sugar,” Blanche said, when Becca remained silent. “Stick with Colton. He has the money. Cord’s a rancher and always will be. It’s in his blood. That stupid Anette tried to change him and get him away from here, but it didn’t work.” She paused for a second and took a big swallow of scotch. “Aren’t you a doctor or something?”

“Yes, I’m a doctor.”

“Then, you’re not stupid and I’m sure you can see the writing on the wall. Cord has that rugged handsomeness that appeals to women, but sugar, in the dark it don’t make no never mind, as my dearly departed husband used to say. So stick with Colton. He has the big bucks.”

“Is that what you did, Blanche? Stick with the big bucks?”

A sly smile played across her red lips. “I see you’ve heard my story. But until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, sugar, you don’t have the right to judge me.”

“I’m not judging you,” Becca said, but knew she was. She couldn’t imagine why an eighteen-year-old girl would marry a sixty-year-old man—other than the obvious reason. Money.

“Claybourne was a lot like Cord—very handsome even at sixty. I wouldn’t have married him, otherwise.”

“I’m sure that’s a matter of opinion.” Becca couldn’t keep the words from slipping out.

Blanche was angry. Becca could see it in her glittering blue eyes.

She finished off the scotch and walked over to Becca. “Let me tell you something, sugar. Get your ass back to the city where you belong before the same thing happens to you that happened to Anette.”

“Is that a threat?” Becca asked in a barely controlled voice.

“Take it any way you like, sugar, but stay away from my boys.” With that, she swept from the room.




CHAPTER THREE


BECCA PICKED UP HER PURSE and slid it over her shoulder. She would really prefer to leave, but she’d promised Cord she’d wait.

He soon returned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I hope Blanche wasn’t rude to you.”

Becca wasn’t sure how to answer that or how to tell a man that his mother was obnoxious and vile, so she said, “I’m sure Blanche is always the same.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “She’s hard to take on a good day.”

Becca retrieved her medical bag thinking the Prescott men had a strange relationship with their mother. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s about Nicki.”

Becca had expected as much. That was why she’d stayed, even though Blanche had made her temperature rise. “She’s at a critical stage. In the morning it’ll start all over again. She won’t want to leave her room or eat, but you have to make her.”

“I’m not very good at that.”

“You have to be, for Nicki’s sake.”

He gazed directly at her. “I was hoping to persuade you to come here for a couple of days so Nicki can keep progressing. I know that’s asking a lot, but I’m desperate. Della and Edie have tried to coax her out of that room with no results. You did it, though, and you had her talking and laughing. I want my little girl back. Please, Becca.”

Her stomach turned over at the sound of his saying her name. She hadn’t anticipated this, and found herself grappling for the right answer. She knew there was only one—but, still, she hesitated.

“Does Nicki go to school?”

“Anette had enrolled her in a private school in Houston. She started pre-kindergarten, but it didn’t last long. After Anette’s death, she cried all the time, and the teacher suggested maybe it would be best for her to be at home with a private teacher.”

“Did you do that?”

“Yes, I hired Mrs. Witherspoon, who’s also a nanny, but she can’t get anything out of Nicki, either. Nicki’s enrolled for kindergarten in the fall, but I’m not sure how that’s going to go.”

“Nicki’s health is at stake here,” she told him. “Nicki has to start acting like a normal child and the adults in her life have to be strong. They—and not Nicki—have to call the shots.”

“That’s not easy.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“She responds to you like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m just asking for a little of your time.”

Becca took a long breath and tried to explain. She didn’t want to seem insensitive, but she had to be practical. “Nicki needs to start interacting with the people in her own environment. If she becomes attached to me, it’ll only make things worse.”

“Okay, Becca, I think you’ve made your position clear. I’m sorry I asked.”

Oh God, this wasn’t what she wanted at all! For the first time in her life, she was afraid of becoming too attached to a child—and to the child’s father. But Nicki needed help, and Becca had started a course of treatment and she had to see it through…to see Nicki happy again. That was the one thing, the only thing, that mattered. This wasn’t about Becca or her feelings. Besides, Cord wasn’t interested in her as a woman. He was still dealing with a lot of emotion over his wife’s death.

She’d wanted a change, an opportunity to get away from Houston for a while. The ranch wasn’t far, but it could be perfect. She’d have the time and peace to sort through all her own discontent.

“What’s it like living on a ranch?”

His eyes narrowed. “Pardon?”

“I was raised on the coast and I don’t know a thing about cows or horses or the ranching life.”

He blinked. “Does this mean you’d consider coming here to help Nicki?”

“If the offer’s still open.” She smiled. “I’m a sucker for a child in need.”

His face relaxed. “Thank you. Oh, Becca, thank you. I know you probably have a hectic schedule, but if you can just fit us in for a couple of hours, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Actually, my schedule’s open. I have some free time before I begin my practice in July.”

“Oh.” He seemed shocked. “Then, you’d be willing to stay here and help Nicki?”

She nodded. “Yes, but the nanny stays, too. I want Nicki to realize that I’ll only be here for a short time.”

“Sure, no problem.” He watched her for a moment. “I can’t believe you’ve actually agreed to do this.”

“I have an ulterior motive.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I’ve had an exhausting schedule for the past few years and I need a break. A break from city life.” And so many other things.

“Well, then, I hope this works out for both of us,” he said. “There’s a pool in the backyard, horses to ride, wide-open spaces, and more cows than you’ll ever want to see. You won’t be bored.”

That was one thing she couldn’t possibly be around Cord. For some reason, whenever she was near him her senses seemed magnified.

“I hope Blanche won’t mind my being here.” One encounter with the woman was one too many, but Becca wasn’t going to let her interfere with Nicki’s health.

“Don’t worry about Blanche. I’ll take care of her.”

She was sure he would. The relationship between the Prescott men and their mother was an odd one. And she intended to keep out of it.

“I’ll be back sometime tomorrow morning,” she said as she moved toward the door.

“I’ll have Della prepare a room for you—and thanks again for doing this.”

She turned in the doorway. “Nicki just needs someone to push her, and I can see you’re hopeless in that area.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, forcing herself to walk to her car. She wanted to continue talking to him, to continue… There was something about Cord that touched a place deep within—a place no man had ever reached. Maybe it was the sadness she saw in his eyes or the struggle to help his little girl. Whatever it was, it had made her do an impulsive thing. Staying at the ranch was not in her plans, and yet she’d suddenly found herself volunteering. She didn’t regret that impulsiveness. In all honesty, she was looking forward to living at Triple Creek for a few days. Or even a few weeks. Now she had to tell her parents—and Colton.



CORD WATCHED until her taillights disappeared down the driveway. He couldn’t believe his luck. She was coming back and she’d be staying here. That was far more than he’d ever hoped for. This was exactly what Nicki needed—someone to help her deal with Anette’s death. Lord knows he hadn’t been able to do it.

She’s coming back was all he could think as he went in search of Della. As usual, he found her in the kitchen.

“Becca gone?” Della asked as she wiped off the counters.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“She sure has a way with that child. Lordy, lordy, that was wonderful to see.”

“It was,” Cord agreed. “Please get the room across from Nicki’s ready. Becca is coming back to stay for a while.” Was he smiling? He couldn’t seem to stop.

“Wow, that’s good news! But you’re in the room across from Nicki.”

“Damn, what was I thinking?”

“Yeah, what were you thinking?” Della repeated with a sly smile.

He’d moved into that room after Anette’s death because their old room held too many painful memories.

He looked at Della, not rising to the gleam in her eyes. “How about the room at the end of hall? That’s not far from Nicki.”

“What about the room at the end of the hall?” Blanche asked as she strolled into the kitchen wearing a short black silk robe.

Cord turned to face his mother. “I’m having the room prepared for Becca. She’s going to be visiting for a while to help Nicki.”

“Really.” Blanche placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t recall being consulted, and I own this house and this ranch. No one stays here unless I say so.”

Cord’s eyes darkened. “Becca is staying.”

“Don’t push me, Cord.” Her tone was threatening, and Cord reacted to it.

He stepped closer to her. “You may own this place, but I run it and at a profit that you enjoy. So if you have a problem with my decision, then you have a problem—because my baby needs help and I’ll fight you tooth and nail to ensure her well-being.”

“Okay, okay.” Blanche changed her tone. “Don’t work yourself into a lather.” She walked over to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. “This Becca is Colton’s girlfriend. Have you forgotten that?”

“Of course not, and I don’t see what difference it makes.”

“Because you have the hots for her,” she answered crudely.

Cord felt the blood rush through his system in raging anger, but he forced himself to remain calm. He wouldn’t let her get to him.

“You haven’t looked at a woman since Anette died, and your brother’s girl is not the woman to start with.”

Cord whirled toward the door. “I’m checking on Nicki.” He stopped, unable to leave without setting this straight. “Becca is staying here for Nicki. That’s it. And I don’t want you telling her these lies. I’ll speak with Colton to make sure he’s okay with the arrangement. Other than that, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep out of my business.”

“I tried to tell you about Anette. You wouldn’t listen to me then, either, and look how that turned out.”

Cord ran his hands through his hair in a weary gesture. “Blanche, leave it alone. For God’s sake, just leave it alone.” He sighed deeply and hurried through the door.

Blanche glanced at Della. “I don’t care how old they get, kids never grow up.”

“Cord’s been grown-up most of his life,” Della remarked.

“Don’t take that haughty tone with me, Della.”

Della’s blue eyes became sharp. “Cord’s in pain. He’s lost his wife and now he’s fighting to save his child. Give him a break. Give us all a break.” Without a backward look, she followed Cord.



BECCA DROVE TO HER PARENTS’ HOME in Bellaire. She parked by the garages and went in through the kitchen, where she came upon Emily and Jackson putting dishes in the dishwasher. Scotty ran through from the den, shouting, “Sissy!” and hurled himself into her arms. She hugged him tight. At eight years of age, he was getting so tall. She could hardly believe he wasn’t a baby anymore.

“I got a new computer game. Wanna play?” Scotty asked, his green eyes shining. Like his father, Scotty loved computers, and spent as many hours as he could at a keyboard, or at least until Emily made him go outside and play.

“In a minute, tiger,” she answered. “I want to talk to Mom and Dad first.”

“Okay, I’ll be in my room.” He dashed out the door.

Emily hugged her. “This is a nice surprise.”

Every time Becca looked at Emily or heard her voice, she felt a surge of love and warmth. They had a strong bond that pain and heartache had not diminished.

Jackson planted a big kiss on her cheek. “How’s my girl? Hope you’ve been getting some rest.”

All this love had kept her sane during that dark time, but she sometimes wondered if Emily and Jackson saw her as an adult or only as their little girl. For a parent she was sure that feeling never changed, but Becca knew she had to be more than their daughter. And she didn’t know how to explain that. She would just try to be honest and hope they understand.

They sat at the kitchen table. “What do you want to talk about, angel?” Jackson asked.

Becca made an effort not to squirm in her chair. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be going away for a little while.”

“Oh?” Emily raised an eyebrow. “When did this come about?”

“Cordell Prescott called me today,” she said slowly. “His daughter, Nicki, still hasn’t adjusted to her mother’s death. I went out to the ranch to check her over, and she’s not doing well. Grief is making her physically ill.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Emily murmured.

“Colton never mentioned a thing,” Jackson said.

“I’ll be staying at the ranch, trying to help her.”

Emily frowned. “Becca, angel, that’s not your field. Cord needs to get her to a psychologist.”

“He has, and it didn’t work. If I see things aren’t improving, then I’ll suggest it again. But I feel I can help her.”

Jackson patted her hand. “You’re very good with kids.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m a pediatrician. I’d better be.”

“Becca—”

“I know what I’m doing,” she said emphatically, before Emily could say anything else.

“Sure you do,” Emily agreed. “I was just hoping that…”

“I’d rest and have fun,” Becca finished for her. “Getting away to the ranch will be good for me, too, and I need that. A different environment, different kinds of activities…Please try to understand.”

“Of course,” Jackson said.

“And I’m very fond of Nicki and I want to help her.” She got to her feet. “Now I’ll go and let Scotty beat me at this new game, which won’t take much letting on my part.”



EMILY AND JACKSON STARED at each other as Becca left the room. “Do you think Colton knows about this?” Emily asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“This is so sudden and I—”

Jackson leaned over and kissed her. “Stop worrying.”

“It’s so hard.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But I think Becca’s feeling the constraints of our love. She’s not our little girl anymore. She’s our grown-up daughter who can make her own decisions.”

“I just want to protect her.”

“Me, too, but we’ve had her for ten wonderful years. I consider that a blessing. Now we have to support her in whatever she chooses to do.”

Emily smiled. “You’re so wise.”

He kissed her again. “And don’t forget it.”



WHEN BECCA GOT BACK to the apartment, she called Colton and asked him to stop by on his way to work in the morning. He’d been in Dallas and she was glad he was back; she needed to talk to him.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Explaining her life to everyone was starting to get on her nerves. She sensed that her parents disapproved, especially Emily, but this was her decision, and she hoped it was the right one. Minutes later, it seemed, the doorbell woke her. God, she’d overslept! She grabbed a terry-cloth robe and headed for the door.

Colton stood on the doorstep, wearing an impeccable tailored gray suit and holding two takeout cups of coffee. “Hi, gorgeous,” he said with a smile.

“I’m not gorgeous,” she muttered grumpily, as she ran her hands through her tangled hair. “I look like hell.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” he said, as she accepted one of the coffees, mumbling her thanks.

She led the way into her living room. Colton took a seat on the sofa beside her.

“How’s the time off going?”

“Pretty good,” she answered, sipping her coffee. Cream, no sugar, exactly as she liked it. She told him about her visit to the ranch.

“Damn, I feel terrible,” he said. “I haven’t talked to Cord in over two weeks. I’ve been so busy I never seem to have time for anything except work. I knew Nicki wasn’t doing well, and I told Cord weeks ago that he should consult you. I never dreamed he’d take my advice.”

The Prescotts were not a close family, and Becca knew Blanche was the primary reason for that. She took a deep breath. “I’m planning to spend some time at the ranch, so I can try to help Nicki.”

“You are? That’s wonderful,” Colton said. “If anyone can help her, it’s you.”

“Thanks.” They talked about Nicki and about Colton’s business trip, but she was well aware that there was another conversation they had to have. She wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up.

“Colton?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re good friends, aren’t we?”

“The best.”

“Have you ever wished that our relationship had turned into…more?”

He moved uncomfortably. “Yeah, but I’ve always realized that you don’t have those feelings for me.”

“Oh, Colton.” She felt like crying.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m too old for you, anyway.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you mentioning it now? Oh.” He answered his own question. “You’ve been listening to that crazy redhead.”

“Don’t call Ginger that!”

“She’s loony as a bat and always making nasty comments about our relationship.”

“She’s very outspoken,” Becca said in Ginger’s defense.

“Yeah.” He laughed sarcastically. “But our relationship is none of her business and she’d better keep her opinions to herself.”

“You’re getting angry for nothing,” Becca told him. “I just didn’t want you hoping that something was going to happen between us, because I’m not sure what I want and you’re too nice a person to keep baby-sitting me. You deserve a—” The doorbell interrupted her.

“Excuse me,” she said, and got up to open the door.

Ginger brushed past her. “Look at this,” she cried agitatedly. “Look at my hair! It’s one big fuzz ball. I can’t go to work like this.”

Ginger had naturally curly red hair, and on humid days it sprang into a mass of tight ringlets. During the sweltering Houston summers, Ginger was always in a panic about her hair.

“I looked in the car mirror and I couldn’t believe it! I just fixed it, and now I resemble the bride of Frankenstein. Your place is close to work, so I came here for emergency repairs. Can I use your curling iron?” Ginger turned and saw Colton. “You’re here awfully early.”

“Got something to say about it?” Colton asked in a hard tone.

“Had nails with your coffee, Prescott?” Ginger returned without skipping a beat, then swung toward the bathroom.

Becca shrugged. “That’s Ginger.”

Colton stood up, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”

“We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

Colton looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry about us. Don’t worry about anything.”

“Colton…”

He placed a finger over her lips. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll call you later, and I’ll call Cord as soon as I get to the office.” He started for the door. “Thanks for doing this for my family. I know Cord will appreciate it.” Becca stared after him.

Ginger came back with her hair looking much better. “Stuffed Shirt gone?”

“Ginger, don’t.”

“I have to run, anyway.”

“Can you wait just a second?”

Ginger glanced at her watch. “That’s about all I’ve got.”

Becca told her about the visit to Triple Creek, about motherless Nicki and her father.

“Wow. What’s this Cord like?”

Becca groaned. “It’s not about Cord. It’s about Nicki.”

“If you say so.” Ginger sighed. “Now, I’ve really got to go.”

“Can you water my plants while I’m gone?”

“Sure,” Ginger called, hurrying out the door. “Phone me when you’re back in town.”

As Ginger left, Becca tried to ignore her words. Was she doing this for Nicki—or Cord? For both of them was her instant response, and she was getting tired of justifying her actions to everyone. She let out a long breath and went to make fresh coffee.

Fueled by the additional caffeine and new resolve, she called the Prescott ranch. Cord answered it on the second ring.

“Cord, it’s Becca.”

“Hi, how are you this morning?”

Her stomach trembled at the undertones in his voice, and she wondered why he had this effect on her and Colton didn’t. She swallowed.

“Fine. Where’s Nicki?”

“In her room.”

“Cord.” She couldn’t keep the frustration out of her voice.

“Della’s fixing her breakfast and I was about to go upstairs and get her. I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Crying and screaming won’t hurt her. Not eating will.”

There was a pause, then he asked, “When are you coming?”

“In about two hours.”

“Well, maybe I’ll wait and let you work your magic.”

“Oh, no, Cordell Prescott. You go upstairs and bring her down for breakfast. Today is the day she starts to get better, and you have to be strong.”

“All right, but if I’m a wreck when you get here, you’ll know why.”

“Yes, I’ll know why. I’ll also know you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve been told that.”

Another pause. Then he asked, “Do you know where Colton is? I tried his apartment but he wasn’t there.”

“He was here, and he just left. You should be able to catch him at his office.”

All the warm feelings inside him dissipated and he didn’t understand why. He knew Becca and Colton were seeing each other. That had been for years, so why, all of a sudden, was he feeling so discouraged by this evidence that they were sleeping together? Could Blanche be right? No, Blanche was never right about anything. His interest in Becca was strictly for Nicki’s sake. He would never covet his brother’s lover.

“Cord.”

He jerked himself to attention as he realized she was saying his name. “Yes.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hung up the phone with a frown on his face. What was wrong with him? Nothing, he told himself. He just felt like this because of Blanche and her crude suggestion. He wasn’t attracted to Dr. Becca Talbert. Not at all.




CHAPTER FOUR


BECCA WASN’T SURE what to pack, so she took a few of everything, but mostly jeans and tops. With her suitcases in the living room, she stopped to call Grandpa George—Jackson’s father—as well as Rose and Owen. Then she called Dr. Arnold’s office to let them know her whereabouts in case they needed to contact her. Hanging up the phone, she decided that part of her problem was the fact that she had to justify her whereabouts to so many people. At her age, she shouldn’t have to do that. Their love was overwhelming her. Was that ungrateful? She hoped not. She loved her family, but she needed to be free, to experience life on her own. And that was exactly what she was going to do.

With her bags loaded in the car, she drove toward Triple Creek Ranch. Once she left Houston proper, the scenery along the route was serene and peaceful, so unlike the busyness of the city. Again she parked in the drive near the house and walked to the front door. It swung open before she could ring the bell. A frantic Cord stood there, holding Nicki in his arms. The child’s face was buried in his shoulder and she was crying. Cord stared helplessly at Becca.

“Good morning,” she said brightly as if everything was normal. “My bags are in the car. Do you mind getting them?”

Cord seemed dumbfounded. “Sure,” he answered distractedly, and slowly set Nicki on her feet.

Nicki wrapped her arms around his leg and began to cry louder. “I wanna go to my room. I wanna go to my room.”

“Becca’s here, baby. Don’t you want to say hi to Becca?”

Nicki rubbed her head against his leg. “No. Don’t like her.”

“You liked her yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t. I wanna go to my room. Daddy, please.”

Becca could see Cord weakening. “Would you get my bags, Cord?”

Didn’t she notice he had a child attached to his leg? Then Cord realized this had to be one of her maneuvers to get him out of the way. He disentangled himself from Nicki, but she ran after him crying, “Daddy! Daddy!”

Becca caught her before she could follow him to the car. She carried Nicki, kicking and sobbing, into the house and sat her firmly on the sofa.

“Leave me ’lone,” she whimpered, and reached for Dolly.

Becca held her face between both hands, rubbing her thumbs over the girl’s wet cheeks. “No, I’m not leaving you alone. I’ve come to spend some time with you and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“’Cause.”

“’Cause why?”

“’Cause you’re mean.”

“We had fun last night. I was a chicken, you were a cow and Daddy was a horse. Remember?”

“Yeah.” She hiccuped.

Cord came into the room and set down her bags. As soon as she saw him, Nicki threw out her hands and started to cry again. “Daddy, I wanna go to my room.”

Cord took a ragged breath. “Baby, we’re not going to your room.”

She drummed her legs on the sofa in a temper tantrum. “Daddy, please! Daddy, please!” she wailed.

Becca stood and walked over to Cord, whose face had turned a grayish white. “Just leave, Cord. I’ll handle her.”

“Becca.” Her name sounded more like a groan.

“It’ll be all right. I promise.” She gently pushed him toward the door. As she did she noticed that two women had come to stand in the doorway, one tall and thin with gray hair, the other short and on the plump side.

Cord looked back at Becca. “This is Mrs. Witherspoon, the nanny.”

The plump lady stepped forward and shook Becca’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Talbert.”

“And I think you’ve met my sister, Edith,” Cord said.

“We call her Edie.”

Becca smiled at the older woman. “Yes, it’s good to see you again, Edie.”

Nicki’s wails drowned out her words.

Becca gave Cord a knowing look, and he slowly made his way out the door, preceded by the two women.

Nicki’s cries continued and Becca sat beside her. She could understand now why everyone was so reluctant to make Nicki leave her room. This type of behavior was hard on the nerves. She waited for a moment, trying to figure out the best approach to this situation. Her attention was drawn to the doll clutched in Nicki’s arms, and she started to talk.

“Dolly, do you know what you and I are going to do today? No? Well, I’ll tell you. We’re going outside. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. It’s a beautiful day. Of course, I’ll have to put some sunscreen on you. Your skin’s so light and we have to protect it. My skin, I don’t have to worry too much about. I just get brown. Still, it never hurts to be careful with the sun. When I was little, I was in the sun all the time. My mother called me a brown-eyed Susan. I never knew what that was, and it confused me. My name’s Becca, not Susan. What do you think of that, Dolly?”

The wails stopped, and Nicki opened one eye and stared at Becca. “Dolly can’t talk.”

“That’s a pity because I like Dolly.”

“She don’t like you.”

Becca brought one hand to her chest. “That breaks my heart.”

Nicki opened her other eye. “It does?”

“Yes.”

“What does that feel like?”

“It feels sad. Does Dolly feel sad?”

“Yes.”

“Everybody’s sad sometimes, but it’s not good to feel sad for too long.”

Nicki smoothed Dolly’s hair. “No.”

Becca knew it wasn’t the right moment to delve further, so she got to her feet. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and Dolly show me to my room and help me unpack?”

Nicki’s eyes narrowed, and Becca was waiting for an I don’t want to, but instead Nicki scooted to the edge of the sofa. “’Kay.”

Becca picked up a suitcase just as Edie returned to the room.

“Let me help you with those.” Edie had to be in her seventies, but she was still agile, her posture as straight as that of a younger woman.

“Thank you,” Becca said, pretending she couldn’t lift the other case. “I think I need help with this one.”

“I’ll help,” Nicki piped up and ran over to Becca. It was the response Becca had wanted. Together, the trio clambered up the stairs.

On the landing, Becca looked around. There was a long hall with half a dozen doors. She remembered Della’s saying that Cord had locked up Anette’s room. She wondered which room it was. She shook her head; it didn’t matter. Still, Anette had died over a year ago, and Becca felt that Cord should have disposed of her things, kept some for his daughter, perhaps given the rest away. Maybe the task was still too painful for him.

“Which room is mine?” she asked to divert her thoughts.

Nicki shrugged.

“The one at the end of the hall,” Edie said. “Mine’s at the other end, and—” she pointed to a door on the right “—that’s Cord’s. Blanche has the big suite downstairs.”

“Thanks,” Becca replied, entering the room. It was elegant with dark furniture and a four-poster bed. The decor was in peach and pale green, and very soothing. She was going to like it here.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ve got a function at the church I need to attend.”

“No, and thanks for helping, Edie.”

“Sure.” Edie glanced at Nicki, who had crawled onto the bed. “Good luck. Bye, Nicki.”

“Bye, Edie.”

That was all very polite, but Becca knew it wouldn’t last. Nicki had been allowed to do whatever she wanted for too long. When she couldn’t get her way, she became angry and defiant. Becca would try to change all that because she knew it stemmed from Anette’s death. Inside Nicki was still hurting…and so was Cord.

Becca opened her suitcase and began to put her clothes away in an old-fashioned wardrobe that looked priceless. She loved the antique furniture in this house.

Nicki sat, still on the bed, watching her. When Becca opened her makeup bag and set out the contents on the dresser, Nicki’s eyes grew big.

“My mommy had thin…” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying.

Becca sat beside her. “It’s all right to talk about your mother.”

“No, I don’t want to.” Nicki hung her head.

“Are you mad at your mother?”

Nicki didn’t answer.

“I used to be mad at my mother.”

Nicki glanced at her. “Why?”

Becca wasn’t sure how much to say, but she went with her gut instincts. “Because she gave me away when I was a baby and I didn’t know she was my mother until I was seventeen years old. I did mean and bad things because I thought she didn’t love me.”

“Did she?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How you know?”

Becca placed a hand over her heart. “I know in here. Just like you know in there—” she put her hand on Nicki’s chest “—that your mother loved you.”

Nicki’s eyes widened as she tried to understand what Becca was saying. Becca waited a minute, then said, “It’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t we go and see what Della’s fixing?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am. I only had coffee this morning.”

“I wanna go to my room.”

Becca took a deep breath. “Nicki, sweetie, we’re not going to your room. Please try to understand that. We’ll do anything else that you want—swim, play dolls, swing…anything.”

“No, I’m going to my room.”

Before Becca could stop her, she jumped off the bed and ran for the door. Becca caught her halfway down the hall and swung her up. Nicki kicked and screamed, and Becca joined in as before.



CORD CAME THROUGH the back door, wiped his boots on the mat and stopped in his tracks. Screams. Oh God, how did he deal with this? He walked into the kitchen and asked Della, “Has this been going on since I left?”

Della looked up from the stove. “No, it just started.”

Suddenly the screams stopped, and Cord wondered if he should interfere. He’d wait, he decided; he had to give Becca a chance. He felt sure she knew what she was doing. But it wasn’t easy to hear his child in torment.



BECCA AND NICKI EYED each other. Nicki rubbed her eyes with one hand, still clutching Dolly with the other. “Why you do that?”

“Because I don’t like it when you scream.”

“I don’t like it when you scream, either,” Nicki muttered crossly.

“Well, then, let’s not scream.”

Nicki gave her an assessing look. “’Kay.”

Becca smiled. It was a very tiny step, and there were so many more. “Ready to go downstairs and have lunch?”

Nicki shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Another step to take, Becca thought. “That’s okay. You can watch me eat.” She set Nicki on her feet and they walked downstairs.

When they entered the kitchen and Nicki saw Cord, she ran to him, crying, “Daddy, Daddy, I wanna go to my room!”

It seemed to be a statement Nicki routinely used to get her way. Her room was where she could grieve in peace—but that wasn’t happening anymore. Becca would insist on it.

They ate at the kitchen table. Della had prepared hamburgers, homemade French fries and cut-up fruit. Just like last night, Becca didn’t force Nicki to eat; she filled Nicki’s plate and cut the hamburger into four pieces so she could eat it easily. She poured lots of ketchup on her plate, then left Nicki alone and started on her own food.

“This burger is absolutely delicious,” she said as she took a bite.

“Triple Creek beef. It’s the best,” Della told her.

“It certainly is,” Becca agreed. “So you eat the beef raised here on the ranch?”

“Sure do,” Cord said. “I won’t sell something to a consumer that I won’t eat myself.”

Beef was something Becca got at the supermarket, not something in her yard. Or was that pasture? She didn’t think she could possibly eat a cow she was personally acquainted with. But if she said that, Cord would laugh. She was a city girl, not used to country ways. Didn’t mean she couldn’t learn, though.

“Do you have a lot of cows?”

“Sometimes more than I want.”

“I’ve never even touched a cow.”

Cord raised his head. “You’re kidding.”

“No, like I said, I was raised on the coast. I’ve touched plenty of fish, but I’ve never even been near a cow.”

A smile curved his lips. “We’ll have to change that—give you a close-up view.”

As they talked, Nicki started to eat her burger and nibble on the fruit. Cord looked at Becca and smiled. They were making progress, and she was warmed by that light in his eyes.

Della placed a bowl of chocolate pudding on the table.

“Look, Becca, it’s chocolate,” Nicki said with her mouth full of fruit.

“So I see.” Becca grinned and spooned some into their bowls.

Nicki stuck her finger in hers, then glanced guiltily at Cord.

“It’s okay, baby, you can eat it any way you want,” he assured her.

Which she did. She got it on her face, her clothes and the table. Finally Becca took Nicki upstairs to wash her and change her outfit. The child was falling asleep. Staying up had taken its toll, and now she needed a nap. Becca carefully laid her in bed, covering her with a sheet.

Cord was waiting for her outside the door. Her stomach tightened as she encountered him—his tall lean frame, his rugged features and dark eyes. Funny how her body reacted to him.

“Thanks, Becca. I didn’t think I was gonna survive after this morning. She fought me every step of the way. She doesn’t seem to do that with you.”

“She knows you’ll give in,” Becca said as they walked downstairs to the den.

“Yeah, but it’s so hard to discipline a child when you know she’s hurting.”

“It’ll get better.”

“With you here, I know it will. You have a magic touch with her.”

“Thank you” was all she could say.

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Cord said, “I’d better get back to work. I’ve got hay being baled and calves that need vaccinating. I’ll see you later.” He turned, then stopped. “Oh, Mrs. Witherspoon asked if she could have some time off to go see her sister, who’s not feeling well. I said I’d have to ask you.”

Becca shrugged, amazed that he was clearing this with her. “Sure, as long as Nicki knows she’s coming back.”

“Good.” He nodded and left the room.



BECCA WAS ABOUT TO SIT DOWN in the den, when Blanche breezed in, wearing yet another skintight knit dress.

“I see you’ve arrived, sugar.”

“Yes,” Becca said curtly, not wanting a scene with Blanche.

Blanche looked at herself in a mirror on the wall and fluffed her hair, then she turned to Becca. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said coolly. “This is my house and I’ve agreed to let you stay here for Nicki’s sake. Cord seems to think you can help her, but at the first sign of trouble, your ass is out of here.”

“Okay, Blanche,” Becca replied in an equally cool voice. “You want to be straight? I will, too. First of all, I do not need a place to stay. I have my own apartment. I’m at the ranch to help Nicki—that’s it. You keep referring to trouble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about my boys, sugar. Cord and Colton.”

“So?”

“You have to be incredibility naive or just plain stupid. Colton’s has been seeing you for years and now you’re here with Cord.”

Becca drew a patient breath. “I am not here with Cord, and Colton and I are just friends.”

“Sugar, if I know anything, it’s men and women, and they can never be friends. There isn’t any such animal when it comes to the sexes.”

“Then, you don’t know your son because—”

“Oh, please,” Blanche interrupted sarcastically. “Colton’s been hanging around you all these years for one reason and one reason only. He wants you.”

Was that true? She remembered how uncomfortable Colton had been when she’d brought the subject up this morning. She also remembered that he’d said he knew she didn’t have “those feelings” for him. Oh God, that meant he did have “those feelings”—for her. All these years, and they’d never talked about it until today. They’d always been thrown together at family events, gone to movies and out for dinner, enjoyed each other’s company. Maybe she was naive, because Gin saw Colton’s attraction to her, and so did Blanche. Why hadn’t she done something about it? Because they were friends and she didn’t want to lose that friendship. Now what? She didn’t know. Well…yes, she did. She simply had to let go of Colton so he could find the woman of his dreams. That woman was out there; it just wasn’t her.

“I can see you know what I’m talking about,” Blanche murmured.

Becca raised a hand to her throbbing head. “Blanche, it may be hard for you to believe, but Colton and I are friends. I met Cord at the funeral, and I saw him yesterday for the first time in a year. There’s nothing going on between us. I hardly know him. As I already told you, I’m here to help his daughter. Nothing else.”

“You’re lying to me, sugar, and you’re lying to yourself. And I don’t think you even know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night when I walked into this room, I saw the way you were looking at Cord and the way he was looking at you. There was enough electricity to jump-start Hoover Dam.”

“Don’t—”

“No, you listen to me,” Blanche cut in. “Cord hasn’t looked at a woman in over a year, so don’t take those glances seriously. He just needs what all men need, and it has nothing to do with those fairy tales in your head.”

Becca’s eyes narowed. “You’re a very crude person.”

“I’m also realistic. You’re a doctor with a medical practice, and here you are baby-sitting a five-year-old girl who throws temper tantrums.”

“It’s much more than that,” Becca insisted.

“I don’t think so. Cord and that witch, Edie, have just pampered Nicki since Anette’s death. They haven’t even tried to address the real issue, but I’m staying out of it. I’ve got better things to do.”

Becca frowned. “I can see you love your granddaughter as much as you love everyone else.”

Blanche peered at the diamond watch on her arm. “Damn, I’ve got to run. I’m gonna be late for my luncheon.” She whirled toward the door. “Help yourself to my house, sugar, and anything in it, even my son.” She threw the words over her shoulder in a baiting tone.

Becca felt the urge to stomp her feet and scream like Nicki. Blanche had that effect on her. She probably had that effect on most women. Becca wondered about her relationship with Anette; from the remarks Blanche had made, it didn’t sound like a good one. And how did Nicki fit into the picture? Blanche didn’t seem to care for her at all. Becca ran both hands through her hair and sank onto the sofa. The Prescotts were hard to take. She’d only been here a few hours and she was already yearning for the love and closeness of her own family. Maybe you had to leave something before you could truly appreciate it.

Becca leaned against the sofa and tried not to think about the things Blanche had said, but they were pounding through her head. She wasn’t attracted to Colton in a sexual way, and Colton knew it. Then, why had he hung around all these years? Oh, Colton, she prayed, please don’t love me. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him. Colton had told her not to worry, but she did. They had to talk again, and soon.

Enough electricity to jump-start Hoover Dam.

Blanche was right about that. Becca couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Cord; it was there every time she looked at him. She couldn’t explain it and she sure didn’t understand it. He had done nothing to encourage her, except love his little girl. She admired that in him. She’d noticed it the very first time she’d met him—his love, his heartfelt pain and his strength. She genuinely liked Cord Prescott, and beyond that she didn’t want to think. Her goal was to guide Nicki through this rough time, then go back to Houston to begin her new life. She’d finally achieved the goal she’d been working toward for almost ten years.




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