Date with a Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  By pure coincidence, Hawk felt sure, the mare moved her large head, trapping Hawk’s head against her long neck. The curry brush fell unnoticed to the ground. Hawk rested his forehead on her smooth coat.

  “And now our bargain time is up, Baby. Kate’s going to leave us both.” A shudder ran through him. The horse shook her head. “I know, you don’t want her to go. You think she’s yours. Well, I don’t want her to go, either. I love her. I—who has never felt anything deep or lasting for any woman—love Kate more than my own life.”

  Hawk shuddered again and felt a sudden sting in his eyes. Tears rolled down his face. Damn, he never cried, hadn’t shed a tear since he was nine or ten. He didn’t make a sound but the tears continued to flow until the mare moved her head and he noticed the wet spot on her coat.

  “Sorry, girl,” he drew a deep breath, scrubbed his big hands over his face and stood up straight. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions? No? I didn’t think so.” Stepping back out of the stall, he closed the gate. The mare stuck her head out and with a shaky laugh Hawk stroked her face. Her big brown eyes appeared sad.

  “I’ll see what I can do for the two of us, sweetheart,” he promised. “I’ll beg her to stay if I have to.”

  Stepping out onto the porch for a breather late one afternoon early in April, Kate felt the first mild breeze of spring. The last remnants of happiness and contentment she had enjoyed until recently with Hawk, while working, laughing, making love with him, dissolved like the small patches of snow from the last snowfall.

  It was almost time for her to leave. Her six months were up. Sadness welled up in her; tears stung her eyes. Where had the days gone, one after another, fading from month to month? Kate loved spring, but she wanted winter back. She didn’t want to return to Vegas or to her father’s farm. She didn’t want to go, couldn’t bear the thought of being away from Hawk forever.

  But his coolness, his near silence for nearly two months, said it all to Kate. It was time for her to go, to give Hawk’s life back to him.

  Tears streaming down her face, Kate squared her shoulders and walked into the house. A deal was a deal. Pain twisted in her chest as she remembered the way they had “double” sealed their deal with a handshake and two kisses.

  Going to Hawk’s bedroom, their bedroom, Kate swiped the tears from her cheeks, impatient with herself for wanting, longing to renege on their bargain.

  It wasn’t fully six months yet; she could wait until the end of the month. The thought wriggled its way into her head, tempting her to hang on to him every last minute.

  Kate shook away the thought. It would only get harder for both of them if she lingered longer. Dragging her suitcases from the closet, she began packing her things. For a moment, she stroked the beautiful scarf Hawk had given to her at Christmas. The tears started again.

  Ignoring them, sniffing, Kate continued until she had packed all her belongings but the clothes she was wearing and the those she planned to wear tomorrow, when Hawk, she hoped, would take the time to drive her to the airport.

  Hawk entered the house and frowned at the lack of aromatic cooking scents wafting on the air. It was quiet, too quiet. There was no sight or sound of Kate.

  He smiled softly, thinking she had probably lain across the bed to take a nap and had overslept. His smile growing sad, he went down the hallway to their bedroom, planning to take advantage of the opportunity to join her on the bed … and sleep had nothing to do with his plan.

  The door was partially open. Quietly pushing it in, he stepped inside the bedroom and stopped dead. Kate was sitting on the side of the bed, her suitcases on the floor next to her, unchecked tears running down her flushed face.

  “Kate?” Hawk crossed to her in three long strides. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? And what are your suitcases doing here on the floor?”

  She drew a long, shuddering breath and, without looking up at him, said, “I’m leaving, Hawk. The six months are almost up. Will you drive me to the airport tomorrow, please?”

  “No.” His heart was racing.

  Her head flew up and she stared at him. “Oh, well, if you’re too busy, perhaps Jack or Ted can take me.”

  “No.” Now he could hardly breathe.

  “Why?” She swiped a hand over her red-rimmed eyes.

  Hawk couldn’t stand seeing her cry. Kicking her luggage aside, he grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her up to face him.

  “I don’t want you to go, Kate.” He heard the pained rawness in his voice and didn’t care. “I want you to stay here with me.”

  “After the coolness between us for two months, you want to extend my stay?” The tears had stopped but her lips still trembled.

  “No, dammit!” Throwing caution and possibly his hope of continued happiness away, he gazed directly into her red, puffy eyes and said, “Will you marry me, Kate?”

  She blinked, then blinked again. “Hawk, what are you saying? We are married.”

  He shook his head. “I mean, will you stay married to me? Can we renew our vows to each other, for real this time?” He caught his breath. “Kate, I love you so much. If you leave me now, I’ll live. But I won’t like it.”

  Kate had the audacity to laugh … right before she threw herself against him, wrapped her arms round his neck and joyously shouted, “Yes, yes, yes, I’ll stay, Hawk, because maybe you’ll live if I go … but I don’t know if I will. I love you.” She raised her voice even louder. “I love you, Hawk McKenna. I believe I have from our first kiss.”

  At the

  Texan’s Pleasure

  Mary Lynn Baxter

  About the Author

  A native Texan, MARY LYNN BAXTER knew instinctively that books would occupy an important part of her life. Always an avid reader, she became a school librarian, then a bookstore owner, before writing her first novel. Now Mary Lynn Baxter is an award-winning author, who has written more than thirty novels, many of which have appeared on the USA TODAY list.

  One

  What was she doing?

  Molly Stewart Bailey couldn’t ignore her queasy stomach a moment longer, so she pulled off the highway onto the side of the road. Quickly she turned to see if her unexpected action had awakened her son Trent who was sound asleep in his car seat, his head lobbed to one side. For a second Molly considered jumping out of the car and propping his head back upright.

  She squelched that idea as traffic was swishing by her at a rapid rate and in her present state of despair, she was liable to get run over. Still, she paused and continued to look at her son, who favored her, with dark brown hair, smoky blue eyes and clearly defined features.

  A friend once told Molly she had the most uncluttered face ever. When she recalled that, it made her smile.

  Not today.

  Her mind was in too much turmoil; maybe that was why she kept her eyes on her child.

  The only feature he had of his father was …

  Suddenly Molly slammed the door shut on that thought. Now was the worst possible time to travel down memory lane. As it was, it would take every ounce of fortitude and courage she could muster to do what she was about to do. But she had no choice, even though choices had consequences. In this case, the consequences could change her life forever, and not for the better either.

  That was why she had to guard her heart and its secret with every bit of fight she had in her.

  Shaking her head to clear it, Molly pulled back onto the highway, soon to realize she was closer to the Cavanaugh Ranch than suspected. Once again she felt a wave of nausea wash through her. So much for her vow never to return to east Texas, much less to this precise location.

  But then who could’ve known her mother would fall and injure her back to such an extent she was now bedridden? Molly stifled a sigh and tried to concentrate on something mundane like her surroundings, the tall oaks decorated in their fall colors of reds, browns and golds, the pines whose limbs seem to reach to the heavens—the ponds whose waters glistened like diamonds, and the meado
wlands dotted with fenced-in cattle.

  Only she found she couldn’t fix her mind on anything other than gaining ground on her destination.

  Nothing could usurp the fact that after almost five years she was about to see Worth Cavanaugh again. In the flesh. Cold chills darted through Molly, and she shivered. Stop it! she told herself. She had to get control of her splattered emotions and never let go of them. Otherwise, she was in for a world of hurt for the next couple of weeks, if not longer.

  Gripping the steering wheel harder, Molly made the last turn before entering the long strip of graveled road which led to the ranch house atop the hill. Once there, she stopped the car and took several deep breaths, which helped settle her nerves. She’d known this endeavor wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t envisioned it being this difficult. It seemed that every nerve in her body was riding on the surface of her skin.

  Not a good thing, she told herself, and not at all like her. As a registered nurse, she prided herself on having nerves of steel. Her job actually demanded it. But the who she was about to encounter didn’t have anything to do with her job. It was personal. She would soon come face-to-face with the one man she had hoped never to see again, the man who had not only broken her heart but had jerked it out and stomped on it.

  “Don’t, Molly!” she chastised herself out loud, then quickly glanced in the rearview mirror at Trent. Her self-imposed rebuke hadn’t impacted him at all. He was still sleeping soundly. She frowned, realizing that in a few moments, she’d have to awaken him, which would not be to his liking, or hers. When he didn’t get his full nap, he tended to be grumpy and oftentimes hard to manage.

  Waking up in a ranch setting would most likely right his world quickly, as she’d been telling him about the horses and cattle he’d see every day. She had even bought him a new pair of cowboy boots and hat in honor of this visit to see his grandmother.

  Trent had insisted on wearing his new attire today, which brought a smile to Molly’s face, recalling how he’d paraded around the house, peering at himself in the mirror every chance he got, a big grin on his face.

  Another sigh filtered through her at the same time the smile disappeared. Worth’s house stood in front of her, and for a second she was tempted to jerk the gearshift in Reverse and back down the drive. Out of sight; out of mind. That thought was only fleeting as the needy edge in her mother’s voice rose up to haunt her, recalling this visit wasn’t about her, Molly, but rather her mother.

  As long as she kept that uppermost in her mind, she would do just fine. Molly owed Maxine Stewart more than she could ever hope to repay, and not because she was her mother, either. Maxine had stood by her, though she had been kept in the dark about much of what had gone on in her daughter’s life these last few years. If for no other reason, Molly would always love her for that.

  “Mommy.”

  Glad for the interruption, Molly flung her head around and smiled at her son who was now wide-eyed and kicking his booted feet. “Hey, it’s about time you woke up.”

  “When can I see the horses and cows?” Trent asked right off the bat.

  Molly grinned. “First things first, okay? We’ll see Granna, then the animals.”

  “Granna’ll take me.”

  Molly heard that comment just as she exited the Toyota Camry and came around to release Trent from his car seat. Then helping him out, she said, “Remember Granna can’t do anything. She’s in bed with a hurt back.”

  Trent frowned as he jumped to the ground, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Molly followed suit, taking in the lovely manicured lawn close to the modern ranch house. Then her gaze dipped beyond to the sloping grounds where animals grazed in the distance near a blue pond.

  “Mommy, look, I see lots of cows.”

  “Me, too,” Molly said absently, turning Trent by the shoulders and steering him in the direction of the side door to her mother’s small living quarters. Although Maxine’s bedroom and sitting room were part of the main house, Worth had been thoughtful enough to add a private entrance, for which Molly was especially grateful today.

  As splintered as she was, she didn’t need to run into Worth, not until she’d at least seen her mother and found out for herself how seriously she was injured. Beyond that, Molly intended to take the moments as they came and deal with them no matter how painful or unsettling.

  “Mom, we’re here,” Molly called out, knocking on the door, then opening it.

  Maxine Stewart lay propped up on a pillow in her bed, a broad smile on her still-attractive face, her arms reaching out to Trent, who seemed hesitant to move.

  “It’s okay, honey, go give Granna a hug.”

  “I’m expecting a big hug, you cutie tootie. Granna’s been waiting a long time for this day.”

  Though Trent still appeared reluctant, he made his way toward his grandmother and let her put her arms around him, giving him a bear hug. Finally pushing Trent to arm’s length, Maxine’s eyes glistened with tears. “My, what a big boy you are.”

  “I’ll be five my next birthday,” Trent said with pride.

  Maxine winked at him. “Granna hasn’t forgotten. I already have your birthday present.”

  “Wow!” Trent said with awe.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Molly cautioned. “Next month you’ll only be four and a half, which means your birthday’s a while off yet.”

  “Can I have it now?”

  Molly grinned, tousling his hair. “Not a chance, boy.” Then it was her turn to hug her mother, though through it all, her heart took yet another beating, but for an entirely different reason.

  Maxine’s once unlined face had wrinkles that were unavoidably noticeable and dark circles under her eyes where none used to be. Her mother appeared frail, so much frailer than she had ever been.

  Though Maxine wasn’t a robust woman, she’d always been the picture of health and beauty. Friends and strangers who saw the two of them together knew they were mother and daughter because they favored each other so much. Some even told them they could pass for sisters.

  Pain. That was the culprit that had so changed and aged her mother. Peering at Maxine closely through trained eyes, Molly didn’t see any signs of that pain turning Maxine loose any time soon, not if the X-rays her doctor had sent Molly to peruse were correct. At this point, Molly saw no reason to question the diagnosis.

  “Mom, how are you really doing?” Molly asked into the short silence.

  “Good.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “Hey, remember who you’re talking to.”

  Maxine made a face. “A nurse, I know.”

  “All the more reason you need to be honest and ‘fess up.”

  “Okay, my back hurts like you-know-what,” Maxine admitted down in the mouth, casting a glance at Trent who was busy wandering around the room, fingering this and that.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Only not for long, surely.” Maxine made a face. “You just can’t leave your job. I’d feel even worse if you lost it because of me.”

  “Hey, calm down,” Molly said, leaning down and kissing Maxine on the cheek. “I have a great doctor for a boss. Besides, I have sick days, as well as vacation days, I haven’t used. Four weeks’ worth, actually.”

  “Still …”

  “It’s all right, I promise. I’m not going to do anything that puts my career in jeopardy.”

  Maxine gave a visible sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” She smiled. “It’s so good to see you and Trent. You’re a sight for my sore eyes.” Maxine faced her grandson and her smile widened. “He’s grown so much since I last saw him.”

  “He’s growing much too fast,” Molly said with a crack in her voice. “He’s no longer my baby.”

  “That’s not so.” Maxine looked back at Molly. “He’ll always be your baby just like you’ll always be mine.”

  Tears welled up in Molly’s eyes, but she blinked them away, hopefully before her mother could see them. “So tell me what’s going on here.”


  “Are you referring to my job?”

  Molly was taken aback. “No. I wouldn’t think there’s a problem with that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Maxine said, her brows drawing together. “Worth let me hire a part-time helper several months ago, which is good. She’s more or less running the house now, with me telling her what to do, of course.”

  “So is that working out?”

  “Yes, but this home needs a full-time housekeeper, especially with Worth thinking about entering politics.”

  The last person Molly wanted to talk about was Worth. Actually, she’d rather not know anything about him period. Under the circumstances, she knew that wasn’t possible.

  “I just can’t help but be a little fearful of eventually losing my job,” Maxine said, “especially if I don’t start improving.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom, Worth’s not going to let you go. You know better than that.”

  “Maybe I do, but you know how your mind plays tricks on you and convinces you otherwise.” Maxine paused. “I guess what I’m saying is that my mind is my own worst enemy.”

  “That comes from lying in bed with nothing to keep you occupied.” Molly smiled with a wink. “But now that Trent and I are here, that’s going to change.” Speaking of Trent made her turn to check on him, only to find he was no longer in the room.

  “Did you see Trent leave?” Molly asked, trying to temper her building panic.

  “No, but he can’t go far.”

  That was when she noticed the door leading to the main house was open. “I’ll be right back,” Molly flung over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, soon finding herself in the house’s main living area. “Trent Bailey, where are you?”

  “Who is Trent?”

  Molly stopped in her tracks, and stared into the face of Worth Cavanaugh. For what seemed the longest time, not only did her body shut down, but their eyes also met and locked, though neither said a word. But that didn’t matter. The tension was such that they might as well have been screaming at one another.