Clay (Texas Rascals Book 11)

by Lori Wilde

  From the time she was a small child, Tobie had fallen asleep on cheap mattresses, her stomach grumbling hungrily, while visions of the perfect husband, a lovely mansion, and expensive furniture waltzed in her head. She dreamed of gourmet dinners and designer clothing. She’d fantasized about hobnobbing with the rich and famous.

  Then Edward had come into her life, with promises that captured her childish fantasies. But now she was a grown woman, ready to relinquish the old goals that had fortified her through her formative years and start afresh with new hopes and dreams more suited to her adult status. Dreams that stretched beyond material belongings. Dreams that included children and true love.

  She toyed with the pearl necklace at her throat, twisting the smooth beads between her fingers. Edward had invited her to help him host a small dinner party, although his definition of small meant ten couples. Dr. Edward Bennet entertained on a grand scale.

  But the anxiety knotting her stomach had nothing to do with the guest list and everything to do with the fact she’d chosen tonight to break up with Edward. After the guests left, she intended on giving him back his ring and his car and taking an Uber home.

  Dang but she would miss the Mercedes and ending the engagement would not be easy. Over and over, she’d rehearsed the words in her head, but nothing she said came out sounding right.

  In her clutch purse, the same sapphire blue as her silk dress, lay Edward’s ring. The day he’d given it to her, she’d been excited and proud, but she hadn’t felt the unrestrained happiness she should have.

  Looking back, Tobie had known when she’d accepted the ring that she hadn’t loved Edward. At least not in the way either of them deserved. Was her hunger for guaranteed security so great she’d been willing to sell herself short? Apparently so. If nothing else, she had Clay to thank for opening her eyes.

  Clay.

  Helplessly, irresistibly, Tobie’s thoughts wandered to the cowboy inventor and his charming little niece.

  Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that man? He’d been eating at her thoughts for the whole week, and for the life of her, she couldn’t say why. So what if he was good-looking? Big deal. Lanky, handsome, rugged types were as common as streetlamps in these parts.

  Why Clay? Why now?

  For years, she’d often repeated the adage, “It’s as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one.” But now she wondered if that were true. Could one really control who they loved?

  Because of her difficult childhood, she’d longed for the stability and security that money could bring, but in her heart, it wasn’t possessions she craved. Instead, she simply wanted the assurance that she’d never live in a tent or dig food from garbage cans again.

  Old fears died hard.

  She was a physician now. She could provide for herself. Yet she could not shake the underlying terror that some tragedy would strike, and she would lose everything she’d worked for.

  Tobie took a deep breath and the fork in the road that led to Edward’s house. She passed a sprawling plantation-style estate on her right and a dignified Tudor on her left.

  Stopping at the security gate, Tobie rolled down the window and punched in the access code. The metal doors slid open, and she went through, her heart hammering.

  A valet Edward had hired for the party was waiting for her as she drove up. Putting the car into Park, she grabbed her clutch purse and relinquished the vehicle to the attendant.

  Edward greeted her at the door, dressed impeccably as always. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, then led her inside.

  “You look ravishing,” he murmured. “That color of blue becomes you.”

  “Thank you.” Tobie cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very awkward. Could she wait until the end of the night to break up with him?

  He linked his arm through hers and guided her into the living room. They had set a full bar up with a bartender at the ready, a pristine white towel draped over one of his arms. Classical music, tinkling and inoffensive, sifted in through the elaborate speaker system.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Edward offered.

  “Mineral water,” she told the mustachioed bartender.

  “No wine tonight, darling?” Edward arched an eyebrow.

  Tobie shook her head. When she broke things off with Edward, she wanted a clear head.

  Taking the water that the bartender offered, she turned to sit down on the white leather sofa. Although she’d been in Edward’s house several times, tonight Tobie surveyed her surroundings with fresh eyes.

  Except for the splash of color from the modern art hanging under track lighting, the entire room was decorated in black, white, and silver. Black overstuffed leather chairs, thick white carpeting, a glistening chrome coffee table, and a matching floor lamp. The overall effect was sterile, cold, passionless.

  Tobie thought of Clay and his messy cabin. She remembered the scraggly moose head on the wall and suppressed a smile. What would Clay think of Edward’s home?

  “Something amusing you?” Edward asked, settling himself on the sofa beside her.

  “What time are you expecting the guests?” she asked, avoiding his question.

  He glanced at the expensive watch nestled at his wrist. “Seven-thirty. We have an hour. I wanted to discuss something before they arrive.”

  “Edward, there’s something important I need to discuss with you, but it’ll keep until after the party.”

  “As you wish.”

  “What’s your news?” She fidgeted with her purse clasp.

  A triumphant grin crossed his face. “I’m announcing my candidacy for president of the AMA. I’ve got the complete backing of Dr. Kemper and his bunch. There’s no telling how far I can go. Today president of the AMA, tomorrow surgeon general!”

  “I’m pleased for you.”

  “You could show a little more enthusiasm,” Edward chided. “How would you like to be the first lady of medicine, my dear?”

  “I’d rather be a mom,” she blurted.

  He gave her an annoyed glance. “We’ve been through this before, Tobie. I thought we had an understanding.”

  “Things have changed. Lately, I’ve been craving a baby.” She hadn’t meant to tell him yet. She’d planned to wait until after the party when they could be alone. Darting a glance at the bartender, Tobie clenched her hands.

  “After Millicent died, I raised our three children alone, Tobie. You know this. It was so hard, and while I loved every minute, I am so relieved they’re grown and on their own. I’m forty-five years old and in the prime of my life; I simply cannot saddle myself with babies at this point.”

  Her heart wrenched as her dreams with Edward died. But they’d been the wrong dreams to begin with. “I’m happy for you, Edward, truly. I know becoming president of the AMA is a long-held goal for you.”

  “It’s for you too, honey. Think about all the extra things I’ll be able to give you. A bigger house, a nicer car, all the beautiful clothes you can wear. We’ll travel, meet interesting new friends, dine in exotic restaurants. All the things you never got to do growing up.”

  A week ago, the scenario Edward painted still might have appealed to her, but since Clay and his niece, Molly, had come charging into her life, Tobie found her needs had changed. Stability was still important, yes, but now she longed for more. She wanted children, and she was not willing to settle for less.

  Why wait until the end of the night to sever their engagement? She knew she had no future with Edward. Why prolong the inevitable?

  Gulping, Tobie opened her clutch purse and extracted his ring, the large diamond winking in the light. She regretted hurting Edward, but she simply couldn’t continue their relationship.

  “I need to return this.” She extended the ring in her open palm.

  Edward looked startled. “Tobie? What are you saying?”

  Lacing her fingers together, Tobie stared at her lap. She couldn’t bear to see the pain in Edward’s eyes, knowing she was responsible for his
hurt.

  “Tobie, look at me.”

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze. He was a handsome man whose body had not softened in middle age, and his gray hair only accentuated his distinguished air. His perfect posture said to the world at large that Dr. Edward Bennet was a man to be reckoned with.

  In fact, it was his steady, rock-solid appearance that had attracted Tobie to him. But when she looked into his eyes, her heart did not skip, nor did her palms sweat. She did not feel giddy or tongue-tied or breathless.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He took the ring from her and folded it in his palm.

  “I can’t marry you.”

  “Why not? What’s happened?”

  Tobie squirmed in her chair. She felt nauseous.

  “You’ve met someone else, haven’t you?” he accused, a frown furrowing his elegant brow.

  “No,” Tobie said. The image of bare-chested Clay, clutching baby Molly in his arms, popped unbidden into her mind. She shook her head.

  “No,” she repeated, as much for herself as for Edward’s benefit. This had nothing to do with Clay. This issue was strictly between her and Edward.

  “It’s that man, isn’t it?” Edward sounded positively jealous. He leaned forward and fixed her to the spot with an icy glare. “The one who had the sick baby the night you made that house call.”

  The uncanny accuracy of Edward’s guess sent a shiver through her. “For goodness’ sake, don’t be ridiculous. His child was my patient. That’s all.”

  “What did you tell me his name was?”

  “Clay Barton. Not that it matters.”

  Edward’s frown deepened, and he drummed his fingertips on the coffee table. “Is he related to Carlton Barton, the cattle baron from Fort Worth?”

  Clay? Kin to one of the richest men in Fort Worth? That was a laugh. “I seriously doubt it. Clay is as poor as a church mouse.”

  “Then there’s not another man?”

  “Not at all. I just want children.”

  “I’m not willing to supply them.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m setting you free. You never needed me anyway, Edward.”

  “That’s not true,” he protested. “I do need you.”

  “You’ll find someone else. You have a lot to offer the right woman.”

  He took her hand in his. “Tobie, I care for you very deeply.”

  “I care about you, too, Edward, but caring isn’t enough. I want Fourth of July fireworks.”

  They sat staring at each other. Tobie was fully aware Edward hadn’t once uttered the word love. She untangled her hand from his and got to her feet. “I think I better be going.”

  “What am I supposed to tell my guests?” he asked at last.

  “Tell them anything you want. Say you broke the engagement. It doesn’t matter.”

  Was that all he cared about? What his friends would think? Edward appeared unruffled. His face devoid of emotions. No one would take him for a man whose fiancée had just dumped him. What she’d once mistaken in Edward for steadfastness was instead detachment.

  “What about all the arrangements? The gifts?” he asked.

  “I’ll cancel everything. Send the presents back. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

  “What about tonight’s party?”

  “I always disliked entertaining, and you know it,” she said.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “The valet has the keys to your car, Edward. Under the circumstances, I can’t keep it.” She opened and closed her purse clasp repeatedly.

  He stared at her, and for a split second, Tobie thought he would argue or say he would give her children if she would stay. But then he shrugged. “If that’s the way you really want it.”

  Tobie pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. At that moment, she felt like crying. Her bottom lip quivered. It was for the best, but it was still hard.

  “Hey.” Edward squeezed her arm. “It’s not the end of the world. We’ll both survive. I need someone to back me up in my career, and you need a man to give you babies. Good thing you figured that out before we got married.”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose there’s nothing left to say. If this is what you really want, I won’t stand in your way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Edward bowed and inclined his head in a brief nod.

  “If you don’t mind, I prefer to wait for the Uber outside,” Tobie said.

  “As you wish.”

  The minute the front door closed behind her, she felt as if someone had lifted a giant stone from her chest.

  Free.

  She was a single woman again, and the next time she got engaged, she wanted not only a stable, dependable man but one who wanted babies, as well.

  8

  “Well, Miss Molly, are you happy now?” Clay peered over his shoulder at his niece strapped into the car seat behind him.

  Anne and Holt were still in Omaha. His mother’s health was still touch-and-go. Molly was doing better, but she still woke at two in the morning and went on a crying jag that lasted for hours. Anne thought it might help for Molly to have the special stuffed rabbit she normally slept with and Anne had forgotten to bring. Clay was driving back to the ranch after going over to Anne’s house to fetch it for Molly’s bedtime.

  The streetlights came on against the descending twilight. Molly was sucking her pacifier, holding her stuffed rabbit in one hand and waving her other hand in time to Faith Hill’s “This Kiss” on the radio. She looked so darned cute Clay wished he wasn’t driving so he could snap a picture and text it to Tobie.

  Tobie.

  At the thought of Dr. Avery, Clay blew out his breath.

  “Just forget about Tobie,” Clay said out loud. “You’ve got other things to worry about, Barton.”

  He turned into the swanky housing addition where his sister and her husband lived. There on the street corner, standing beneath the vapor lamp in the gathering darkness, he saw a familiar face.

  Tobie dressed in a pretty blue cocktail dress, materializing out of nowhere. As if by simply thinking about her, he’d conjured her from the ether, a fairy-tale princess just waiting for rescue.

  Clay trod the brakes. His heart stuttered in his chest like a misfiring engine.

  She looked startled to see him, her blue eyes widening in surprise.

  Oh, damn. He needed an excuse for being in this part of town if he was to keep playing the downtrodden cowboy inventor. He needed a plausible story, fast.

  Putting down the window, Clay leaned out. “Hey, gorgeous, need a ride?”

  “You’re not my Uber.” Was it his imagination or was she thrilled to see him?

  “How long have you been waiting?”

  She looked stunning in that silk sheath dress. The clingy material accentuated her smooth curves; the color enhanced her blue eyes. She could have any man she wanted, rich, poor, or in between.

  “Too long.” She frowned at the phone in her hand. “He’s still five minutes away. Downside of a small town. Not enough Uber drivers.”

  “Cancel the Uber and hop in,” he invited.

  “Good idea.” A big grin splashed across her face. She scurried around to the passenger side door and wrenched it open.

  “What are you doing in this neighborhood at this time of night?” Tobie asked, buckling her seat belt.

  Think, Barton, think. When in doubt, take the offensive.

  “What? Aren’t I good enough to drive around this hoity-toity neighborhood?”

  To his surprise, Tobie blushed. “You’re plenty good enough.”

  He wondered what she would say if she knew his sister owned the Tudor up the block. “Just cutting through the neighborhood. The roads are better here. I’ve been to my sister’s house to retrieve Molly’s Binky.”

  “Binky?”

  “The rabbit.”

  “Aww, she is so adorbs!”

  Yes, he thought so too. “Where’s y
our Mercedes?”

  “It was never my car.”

  “Oh?”

  “I gave it back to Edward.”

  His heart flew right to the stars. “Does that mean your engagement is officially off?”

  “Edward doesn’t want children.”

  “No?”

  “At least not with me. He’s already raised three.”

  From the back seat, Molly muttered gibberish as if putting in her two cents’ worth. Clay and Tobie’s eyes met, and they laughed together.

  “So, what are you going to do now without a car?” Clay asked.

  “I suppose I’ll lease something. This weekend I’d planned to go car shopping.”

  “Hey, I could go with you… if you want some company,” Clay offered.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “No bother really. You’d be doing me a big favor.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It would get us out of the house. I’ve been going stir-crazy these last few days with no one to talk to except Molly and the Trueblood’s cows. Neither are great conversationalists.”

  Tobie’s gentle chuckle was music to his ears. “I suppose I could use a wingman. I’ve never bought my own car before. I was a poor medical student, and then, well, Edward came along…”

  “By the way,” he said. “Where are we going? I don’t even know where you live.”

  “Oh.” She laughed again, gave him her address not too far from her office, and Clay headed that way.

  Molly grunted from the back seat, and Tobie turned around to check on the baby, a tender, wistful expression on her face.

  His heart melted. What was it about Tobie that pushed all the right buttons inside him? Was it her sweet violet scent or her long shapely legs or her silky black hair that lit his fire? Or was it much deeper than that? Was it her loyal, kind, and loving nature? Most likely it was the whole irresistible package.

  The only thing Clay knew for sure: Tobie excited him like no woman ever had.