“What?”
Vanessa shook her head. “My car. Isn’t broken, not even a little bit. I thought we should talk, before the craziness of the bull sale really gets going.”
“We’ve been over this too many times already. We’re moving past what happened that night. Friends, remember?”
Yes, but friends told friends the whole truth. Mat didn’t know everything that resulted from that night. Yet.
“I’m p-” Her words were cut short by the view before her.
The lane opened to a clearing filled with overgrown rose bushes, planters with the faded remains of flowers spilling over the sides, and the prettiest log home Vanessa had ever seen. For all the neglect in the yard, the home looked immaculate. The windows shone with the last rays of light, four steps led to a wide veranda with empty flower baskets swinging in the breeze. A white glider swing sat empty in one corner, a blue door welcomed visitors inside.
It looked like home.
“You’re what?” Mat’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
Vanessa was transfixed by the place. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?” The words breathed from between her lips.
“McIntyre Place. I’m meeting Gus to take a look at it.”
Gus Armstrong, the best real estate broker in the county.
“You’re buying this place?”
Mat shrugged. “Depends on the price, but I’d like to have my own place. The foreman’s house is fine, but I’d like a little more room to move.” They walked toward the porch together. Mat picked at a loose paint fleck. “I’ll be close enough to the Double Diamond to keep working there.” He looked around, love for the space evident in his expression.
“You want your own ranch.”
Mat shrugged again. He came around the truck, opening her door. “I like my job at the Double Diamond. It’s the space I’d like. Come on, we’ve got a little time.”
He picked up a key from under the doormat and led her inside. Hardwood floors sparkled, a few sheets covered old sofas and the fireplace mantle. The main living area was split into two halves by the staircase. On the left, a dining room and kitchen, to the right a living area. He’d need throw rugs for the winter months, she thought. A fire to keep things cheery.
“I have this idea of building riding trails. And then I could offer trails for kids to ride. That kind of thing. Maybe run a few head of cattle one day, but I like my job. This place would give me a little space but still leave me close enough to be available with Mitch needs me.”
“This is beautiful.” Pride for this man who had dreams bloomed in her heart. She couldn’t remember Paul ever talking about a home or job in quite the same way, not even before he graduated med school. Everything was always about getting his trust fund.
A car honked outside. Gus came through the door a few moments later with a sheet of paper filled with abbreviations and pictures. “The sellers have come down another twenty-thousand, Mat.”
He nodded and walked around the rooms, lost in his thoughts.
French doors opened off the living area to another veranda, another glider and a couple of rocking chairs facing the bank of trees. Even in the near dark Vanessa could imagine the scene and it took her breath away. Please, God, let Mat get this house. It fits him.
“I still need to come up with financing, Gus, but I’ll give you a call.”
They were quiet for a few minutes as the truck rumbled back to blacktop in the darkening night. Mat had a sports talk-show on the radio but he didn’t seem to be listening. He seemed miles away.
“Thank you for showing me your house.”
He grinned. “It’s great, isn’t it? But it’s not mine. Not yet.”
“It will be yours. If you need money I could — ”
“Like hell.” His hands gripped the steering wheel, anger emanating from every pore. “If I need money, I’ll go to a bank.”
She held up her hands, as if the motion could stop his annoyance. “I get it. You cowboys are a lot alike, you know that? I wasn’t suggesting I be your sugar-mama. I just thought you might need a co-signer or even a loan.” She was digging the hole deeper, Vanessa knew, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I’d charge you interest, if you wanted … ”
“Stop. Just stop.” He held up his hand to mirror hers. “I don’t need your money, Vanessa. More than that, I don’t want it. So just stop.”
She tilted her head to the side and tried for levity. “That sugar-mama thing was over the top, wasn’t it?” He chuckled. “I truly didn’t mean to insult you.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “And I wasn’t trying to psycho-analyze you back at the ranch. I was only asking a question.”
“I don’t think we’re friendly enough for that kind of revelation just yet. But to soothe your mind, I am one-hundred percent in control of my faculties. I’m not depressed over Paul or the divorce. Mad at myself, yes. Depressed, no.”
“Why mad?”
Vanessa desperately wanted to be flip, but Mat deserved more than that. Her child deserved more, and she’d better get used to giving honest, true answers and not callous come-backs.
“Because he took everything away from me. He bought my friends, although I didn’t realize it at the time, and when he was finished with me, I lost them, too. I wasn’t in love with him, not at the end.” Vanessa caught the defensive tone in her voice and made an effort to bring everything back to an even keel. “I knew from the beginning he didn’t love me. But we liked each other well enough, and our backgrounds meshed well. So I thought … ”
God, this was all coming out wrong. To her own ears, Vanessa sounded spoiled and privileged and annoying. Mat had to think the same.
“But I did love him once. He was kind, dedicated to his work. At least at first. You can’t really want to talk about this.”
“I’m sorry he hurt you.”
Vanessa shrugged off the compassion in his voice.
“I should have expected it. He told me when he proposed that getting married would give him early access to his trust fund. I was just too foolish to understand that all he wanted was access to the money. He was on track to be a brilliant orthopedic surgeon. His family had the connections, he graduated med school with honors just before he proposed. I thought the money would … I don’t know, fund operations for children or something. I didn’t realize it was his way of having the doctor title and none of the responsibilities of actually working for a living.” She was quiet for a moment. Hell, might as well tell him everything. Mat deserved that, with the bombshell that was ahead. “I thought, in time, we might actually fall in love.”
Mat reached across the space between their seats and squeezed her hands in his.
“So that night was about being mad at him? Getting back at him?”
And here it came. The perfect segue to tell him about the baby.
“No.” Vanessa looked out the window, at the first stars twinkling in the dark, Texas sky. There would be a million stars in just a few more minutes, shining like the fairy lights at the wedding reception. Getting back at Paul had been the last thing on her mind that night. She’d watched Kathleen and Jackson, posed for pictures with them. Watched Kathleen and their younger sister, Monica, get misty with one another.
Seen Jackson and Nathaniel and Mitch raise their beer bottles in salute as Kathleen threw her bouquet.
Had desperately wished her first dance with Paul was as honest and open as Kathleen and Jackson’s turn around the dance floor.
Then she saw Mat across the way and she’d been drawn to him in a way she’d never been drawn to anyone in her life. Had never wanted anything or anyone the way she wanted him.
No, that night wasn’t about forgetting Paul.
She turned, gazed at Mat’s profile for a long moment.
That night was all about Mat. About doing something for Vanessa for the first time in her life.
Mat’s hands crushed the steering wheel at the ten and two positions. Perfectly aligned, perfectly in control. Just as he always seemed to be in control. Focused. She’d needed a little focus that night. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“No, I wasn’t getting back at Paul by sleeping with you. I just … needed to be Vanessa, if that makes any sense at all. What’s your excuse?”
She hadn’t asked him. Not once. She’d gone willingly into his arms when he approached. Had followed him off the dance floor after a few songs and some serious flirting. They’d walked under the night stars, the music from the reception falling away with every step. Lilacs perfumed the air and when he took her hand to lead her into the barn, she’d followed again.
So maybe that night wasn’t about declaring her independence. She’d certainly gone along with his plans without a word. Vanessa couldn’t tell him. Not on the way to a dance. Not when they had to seem normal and unchanged in just a few minutes.
Okay, that wasn’t why. She didn’t want to tell him.
“No excuses. No regrets.”
“Sounds like a motto.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
Vanessa wanted one more night of no excuses, no regrets. She wanted to live one night according to Mat’s life motto because, maybe, one night would give her some memories to tell her child. He or she would have a little bit of a love story. Would never wonder if her parents’ one-night stand was a regret because there would be more than one story to tell. There would be a dance to describe and music to listen to and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
It would certainly be better than the story Gillian told Vanessa about meeting Nathaniel: He was drunk, kiddo, like he always was. Hanging out after a Cowboys’ game beside his Mercedes convertible. I could tell from the way he handled himself he was rich and rich was what I wanted. We just got lucky that you came along nine months later.
“So, we’re finally clear? I wasn’t trying to get over a depression or get back at Paul. We were both in the mood, so to speak.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Can we agree on one more thing?”
“Possibly.”
“We’re going to hear some really, really bad cover tunes tonight.”
Mat laughed. “The band is actually pretty good. When they sing the covers, anyway.”
• • •
Friends. Dance partners. This was so not going to end well for him.
Twenty minutes after arriving at the dance, Mat had yet to extricate himself from Vanessa. In truth, he didn’t want to. He liked the woman he was with, he realized, probably a little too much.
Because this wasn’t the real Vanessa.
The woman in his arms was as different from the spoiled, rich girl he’d known for the past few years as his California friends would say Cowboy Mat was from Heir Mat.
The difference was the Cowboy Mat was the real Mat. The Mat he’d always been inside, even when he’d been hell-bent on living the high life, having the fastest car, and the hottest woman.
Vanessa put all those women to shame, too.
He held back a sigh and stomped along with the rest of the crowd as the band wailed their version of When Will I Be Loved. Vanessa stomped along beside him, although how she managed in four-inch heels was beyond him. Those shoes were made for waltzes, not country line dancing. She smiled up at him and then Kathleen yelled across the room, “Partner switch!” and someone new swept Vanessa away as Kathleen turned him into a side step.
“You and Vanessa came here together?” She didn’t mince words and she didn’t wait. Kathleen jumped right to her point, as he’d always known her to do.
For once, Mat wished the eldest Witte sister would beat around the bush a little. He opted for the most literal interpretation of her question.
“In my truck.”
“And?”
He should have known a simple, literal answer wouldn’t work.
“She had some kind of car trouble. I happened along.”
“And you’ve been joined at the hip since you arrived.”
He just looked at her. Kathleen didn’t bat an eye and she didn’t back down.
“My sister is in a weird place. She shouldn’t be messed with.”
“I thought Vanessa was the black sheep. The sister you didn’t get along with.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t still look after her if someone comes along looking to mess with her.” Just another reason he liked small towns over cities. His own siblings could barely be bothered to show up at the hospital, much less act as protector when the chips were down.
“If you’re this concerned about Vanessa getting hurt, you should have had this conversation with Paul a few months ago. Or maybe a few years ago.”
She had the grace to look chagrined.
“For what it’s worth, I’m not messing with your sister. We’re … friends,” he settled on the word Vanessa kept throwing around. It was the best option he could think of that wouldn’t get him A) fired or B) subjected to another protective-sister talk.
“Friends.”
Mat nodded. “Friends.” He didn’t even trip over not adding the words “with benefits” to the statement. Although he was fairly sure that was where this night was headed if he didn’t step away from Vanessa now and run into the dark Texas night.
He certainly wasn’t going to do that.
“She talks a good game, you know. And she pretends nothing hurts her and she lashes out when she needs care and attention. But inside she’s soft as a pillow. Don’t tear her apart, Mat.”
Guilt hit him. He’d gotten the same feeling in the truck, when Vanessa admitted her car was fine but she wanted to talk — yet again — about that night. When she told him she didn’t love Paul and that their marriage had been one of convenience. A more common occurrence than most imagined these days, especially among the upper crust where image was everything. She’d sounded almost regretful. He wanted to be angry that she married for a trust fund, but then, she hadn’t. Paul had. And if she really did regret it …
He couldn’t use her, not like that. He didn’t want her for her money, but that didn’t assuage his conscience, it only made the guilt worse. Because he didn’t want Vanessa, not in the long term. Whatever this was about, Mat was positive it would last until the Bull Ball and no longer. He couldn’t allow anything more, not if he wanted to keep the life he’d built intact. She would tire of him, anyway, and probably just as quickly.
“There’s nothing to tear apart,” he said as the song ended. Kathleen clapped for the band and he followed suit. “We’re just friends, hanging out.”
It was only a little white lie, Mat told himself. He should know. He’d told a million of them in his past life.
The bandleader shouted out a five-minute break. Kathleen headed across the floor to Jackson and Mat headed to the bar. He needed a drink, a little space.
He needed to get away from Vanessa before he did something really stupid.
Like ask her to dance again.
The bartender handed him a longneck and Mat took a long drink. He was still thinking about Vanessa. Mat pulled up a mental picture of his calendar, checking off days for shots, setting aside days to prep for the sale. He made a note to get the vet out for a final well-check for the sale bulls.
He finished off the bottle but Vanessa was still there. Hanging around the edges of his mind. He wondered which days would be the best to set aside for the pre-sale visits. Wondered if she wanted help updating the website and press releases. Which day would work best for the bull pictures and if she might be interested in a pasture picnic.
Every thought was ridiculous. Her degree was in marketing, she di
dn’t need his help with the flyers or press releases. She might not object to a picnic, but he certainly shouldn’t bring the prospect up, not if he wanted to keep a little bit of distance between them.
He saw her reflection in the mirror, standing slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, and sipping something from a tumbler. Probably the latest designer drink from a bar in San Antonio. In a town where most of the women wore maxi-dresses and cowboy boots, she wore silk and high heels. She’d done something fancy with her eyes, darkening the lashes and making her eyes bluer than ever.
Mat tapped the edge of the bottle against the bar. He shouldn’t want her. She was the daughter of his boss, she was the image of every California girl who’d crossed his radar. From what everyone said, the spitting image of her gold-digging mother. He was supposed to be over the draw of the rich, bad girl. The accident should have wiped that part of his soul clean.
And yet.
She raised the tumbler to her lips and sipped, looking slightly lost in the sea of people. Jackson elbowed her, saying something that made her smile. He took her glass and led Vanessa on to the floor as the band struck up a mid-tempo waltz and she flowed into his arms like honey. A smile touched her lips and her eyes closed as she shook her head at him. It wasn’t a romantic smile. It was peaceful, friendly. As if she had nothing to pretend to be, nothing to hide with her brother-in-law.
Mat’s gut twisted. He wanted that smile for himself, he admitted. He wanted to be the one who made Vanessa forget the facade and enjoy the moment.
Beer bottle forgotten, Mat strode across the dance floor, weaving around couples until he reached Jackson and Vanessa.
He had no idea what to say, Mat realized, as he stood a few feet from Vanessa, watching her dance with Jackson. Chat with him. Listen to the music.
This was ridiculous. He needed a cold shower or something to wake him up. Maybe a few nights under the stars with the hard ground as his bed. Anything to stop these stupid fantasies about a Vanessa who was so much more than the socialite he’d always known. Distance was what he needed, not another dance.
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 24