Texas Wishes: The Complete Series

by Kristina Knight

  Vanessa hit the gas with her right foot, shoved the stick shift forward and waited. The engine revved but the truck didn’t move. She tried again. The engine revved faster and louder but the truck didn’t budge an inch. A light flashed on the dash. Emergency brake. She pulled the level with the matching picture, hit the gas again, and lifted her left foot from the clutch. The truck lurched forward a few feet and then stopped dead.

  She slammed her fists against the steering wheel. How could driving a truck be this difficult?

  “You have to lift your left as you lower your right.” Mat stood a few paces away from the truck, arms folded over his chest. “Or you could just ask for help.”

  “I don’t need help. I’ve been driving since I was sixteen.”

  “Pretty little Porsches don’t drive like Fords. Although you should have figured out the clutch system with one of them.”

  Vanessa ignored that. “Lift and lower?”

  “Same time, same general speed, shove the clutch back in to shift into second, and repeat.”

  Vanessa took a breath. She pushed the clutch in, started the engine and followed Mat’s instruction. The truck lurched forward again, engine revving.

  “Shift!”

  She pushed the clutch in, grabbed at the shifter, and pulled it into the neutral position. All the gears seemed to disappear and Vanessa was coasting — straight toward a four-wheeler.

  “Brake!” Mat yelled from behind her. Vanessa had no idea how to brake at the same time she was pushing in the clutch and gas, so she reached toward the dash and pulled the emergency brake. The truck stopped cold, engine still revving and Mat reached in the window, switching it off and pulling the key from the ignition. “You are a menace behind the wheel.”

  “I’ve never driven a stick before.” Vanessa clenched her jaw.

  “You don’t know how to change tires, you barely have enough cash for gas, and you nearly destroyed a gator.” He held up the keys, swishing them before her. “And I don’t think the transmission of this truck will ever recover. That’s a menace.”

  “I’m not a menace, and if you want to be helpful you could just drive me where I need to go.”

  He opened the door. “Which is?”

  Vanessa scooted across the seat, her jeans sliding across the old leather with a smooth sigh. Mat folded himself behind the seat, started the engine and apologized to the truck for her treatment.

  “She didn’t mean it.”

  Vanessa bit back a smile. He looked at her across the cab.

  The laugh bubbled up from her chest and she patted the dash. “I was just trying to figure you out.”

  “Gentle,” Mat said as he pushed the shifter into gear, eased off the clutch and pressed forward on the gas. The truck slid back, away from the gator and back to the road. He shifted into gear again and looked at Vanessa. “So, where are we going?”

  Heat burned in her belly as he looked at her. She swallowed. Where were they going, not just in the truck but in general? To different lives, connected by a couple of nights of passion? She didn’t dare hope for more than that, not after the way he’d reacted. The sale, Van, just focus on the sale.

  “Bull pens.”

  He nodded and pointed the truck in that direction. An uneasy silence that Vanessa didn’t know how to bridge filled the cab. Should she bring up the baby? The papers she’d gotten the day before? Ignore the elephant in the truck and act like all they had to worry about was fitting ten bulls into the pens for the buyers? Despite wanting to change her character, Vanessa decided to go with the simplest path this time.

  “We have buyers arriving day after tomorrow; they’ll all be in before noon. I’ll email the bull numbers to you.”

  “The boys and I will have them penned first thing.”

  Vanessa tapped her thumb against her leg. “I know you said no more than six, but there was a mix-up on the calls and the four buyers have asked to see ten different bulls.”

  Mat just nodded. They passed the lane for the old soddy, where Kathleen’s wedding reception was held. Vanessa imagined the area as it had been that night, filled with twinkling fairy lights, music, and laughter. And Mat. Her breath caught and she sighed.

  “We sure didn’t start this off right, did we?” he said quietly.

  Oh, God. “I don’t think either of us was thinking about starting anything. It just happened.” Her thumb flicked faster against her leg. Vanessa bit her lip. This was as good a time as any. “I have the papers for you. I could bring them by tonight, and then you won’t have to worry about … anything.”

  She wasn’t brave enough to look at him, but Vanessa felt him stiffen beside her as the truck turned past the tree line. A valley opened up, barbed wire fencing along one side, hills before them dotted with brown grass and a few wildflowers. The bull pen was set up against a sharply graded hill. It looked huge and Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. Definitely enough room for ten bulls. She shook herself. Focus, Vanessa. Mat. The baby. Not the bull pen.

  “I’m not signing. You can burn the damn papers for all I care.”

  “It’s for your protection. So you know you don’t owe us anything. So you can move forward with the McIntyre house.”

  He stopped the truck and turned to her, pulling his leg up on the seat. A few scant inches separated his thigh from hers and Vanessa felt her skin prickle at the near contact. He reached across the space and covered her hand with his. Vanessa’s heartbeat picked up. “I owe you a lot more than abandoning you and the baby. I’m not going anywhere. I want to see where this goes, Vanessa.”

  “But I don’t want you.” The lie slipped off her tongue and Vanessa bit her tongue to keep the truth unsaid. She did want Mat. More than anything she’d wanted in her entire life. She wanted to see him teach their child to feed a calf, ride a horse. She wanted to take another driving lesson from him. To make love with him every day for the rest of her life. It had to be infatuation. Or pregnancy hormones.

  “Really?” He leaned forward and against her better judgment Vanessa swayed toward him. “You want me and I haven’t even kissed you yet.” The words whispered across her lips and she opened her eyes. Mat watched, his black eyes inscrutable but she thought she saw a flash of wanting inside.

  His mouth closed over hers, soft. He smelled like Texas — blue sky, winding stream, bluebonnets in the springtime. Dirt and cattle and sweat. Vanessa was lost in a heartbeat. His hand moved to her neck, pulling her toward him until she straddled his lap. Vanessa pushed the black cowboy hat off his head, tossing it to the other side of the truck. She buried her hands in his hair, holding him against her as his mouth devoured hers.

  His hands traveled from her waist to her breasts, cupping them through the soft cotton shirt and rubbing his thumbs across her aching peaks. Vanessa wanted more. More contact. More kissing. More Mat. She pressed her body against his, trying to get closer. Angled her head more when his tongue brushed against the seam of her lips. She opened for him. The touch of his tongue against the roof of her mouth made her catch her breath.

  Vanessa arched her neck as Mat nibbled his way from her mouth to the base of her ear, reveling the feel of his stubbly skin against her. Oh, she wanted him. So badly it hurt. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that when he decided it was over, it would hurt even worse.

  “I want you, Van. You and the baby, too.”

  She pulled away from him. “And if it doesn’t work?” She was getting her wish — she would have stories to tell the baby, if they kept seeing one another. Things would end, badly. Vanessa knew that with certainty. She also knew she wouldn’t let this color the life of her child.

  “Then we’ll figure out how to make parental understanding work for the kid.”

  Stories for the baby. A broken heart for her. No contest, she knew. Vanessa might not know anything about parenting, but she k
new she’d choose her own pain over her child’s happiness any day.

  “I won’t ever ask you for child support. You have your own dreams and we won’t take them from you.”

  “I won’t not support my family. Baby clothes, formula, diapers, college. You can have anything of mine you need.”

  What if I only need you? She didn’t say the words. She didn’t trust herself to argue with him over child support or any of the big issues they’d have to settle in the coming months. For just a little while, better character be damned, Vanessa wanted to be oblivious about the future. To live completely in the present with Mat.

  They were good in bed, could it be enough to build a relationship on?

  Chapter Eight

  Mat grabbed a plate from the kitchen and filled it with tortillas, veggies, and strips of chicken and steak. He dolloped some sour cream and salsa over the mass of food, sprinkled some cheese, thankful Gui had learned more than roping, branding, and riding in his life as a rodeo cowboy. His stomach growled. He filled a glass with sweet iced tea and headed for the dining room where the Witte clan and his uncle were gathered for lunch.

  Gui served from a pseudo-buffet line at lunch; it was only breakfast or dinner when full service was offered. It worked, especially on a ranch when lunch fell between noon and two, whenever there was time between jobs.

  Before Vanessa, he would grab whatever was in the kitchen and eat with the hands. Not any longer. Not since their talk at the bull pen.

  Kathleen looked up when he entered the dining room, a strange look on her face. Gui devoured one fajita and started on another. Mitchum seemed perfectly happy. Why not? He knew Mat’s secret. Had basically told him to walk the line or have his life blown apart. Again.

  Vanessa looked green.

  The pungent aroma of fried onion and green pepper must not agree with the baby. Mat bit back a smile. Why did the image of morning/noon sickness fill him with pride? Mat sat beside Vanessa. He reached under the table and squeezed her thigh in support as she tried a small bite of plain tortilla. Her nose wrinkled and she dropped the tortilla back on her plate.

  “Is the website ready to go, Vanessa?” Mitchum swished the last of his fajita over his plate.

  She nodded. “I uploaded the last of the copy last night. The first faxes went out yesterday morning and we already have viewings set up. I can have daily stat reports for you starting tonight.”

  “And the after-party?”

  “The band is confirmed. I thought barbecue for the main course, with all the usual accompaniments.” Vanessa’s face paled a bit more and she swallowed. She cleared her throat. “A catering service from San Antonio will provide bartenders and servers, and the invitations are out. We should start getting RSVPs any time.”

  “And you’re okay with the viewing schedule, Mat?”

  Mat felt the focus of the entire table hit him square in the face. At least he wasn’t sick and dealing with the attention, he decided. Nathaniel walked in, plate laden with Gui’s fajitas. For the first time since Vanessa’s return, he entered the dining room at lunch. His gaze caught and held Mat’s then he turned his attention to Vanessa. His gaze softened on his middle daughter but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Mat? The schedule?” Mitchum’s impatient voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “The schedule is a bit tight, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. The buyers this morning showed a lot of interest in numbers 43 and 110, which is promising for the sale.”

  Nathaniel sat at the end of the table. He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “And you and Vanessa are … handling everything?”

  Mitchum exchanged a look with Nathaniel and then both men focused on Mat.

  The fajita in his mouth turned to stone. Nathaniel couldn’t know. No one at the table knew and from what Vanessa said she wanted to keep it that way. They were only talking about the sale preparations. They were handling both situations as well as could be expected. Working together. Figuring out how to date as expectant parents. Mat still half-expected to find Vanessa gone from the ranch any day. Back to San Antonio and the life she insisted she no longer wanted.

  Mat wanted to believe her. The longer she was here, the more settled she seemed. He took a drink of sweet tea to wash down the fajita. Whether she stayed or went the longer she stayed out of that life, the better it would be for the baby.

  “We’re getting along fine.” Was a bigger understatement ever made? Probably not in this dining room. Vanessa reached for his hand under the table and he squeezed her fingers between his. Getting along. He couldn’t ask for more, at least not yet. And maybe the longer she stayed on, the more she would realize she didn’t need the bright lights of the city. San Antonio wasn’t as cosmopolitan as San Francisco; even so it had to be better raising a child here than anywhere else. God knew he’d learned more in the five years he’d been in Lockhardt than the twenty-five he’d spent in San Francisco.

  She squeezed back and he realized she wasn’t just holding his hand. He looked down and she looked desperately into his eyes. Her ice-blue eyes begged him to get her out of the dining room. Away from her family.

  “But there are a couple of numbers I’d like to add to the fax list, after hearing from this morning’s buyers. I’ve got them in the truck, if you’re ready.” It was lame, he knew, but Vanessa jumped at the invitation. Together, they hurried from the room, leaving behind plates of uneaten food and a host of curious expressions on faces he’d never intentionally lied to.

  • • •

  In the yard, Vanessa gulped in long, slow, deep breaths. Just like her yoga instructor taught. In for one, two, three. Hold. Out for four, five, six. Hold. Repeat.

  With every breath, the queasy feeling brought on by the fajitas, black beans, and rice lessened. She walked around the side of the house, to one of the patio areas. Not exactly out of sight, but with the rest of the family inside and the crew working or eating in the bunkhouse, they weren’t putting on a show, either. She focused on breathing, willing the nauseated feeling to pass.

  She’d been fine this morning. For the first time in weeks she felt like her old self — no weird, loopy feeling when she woke. No nausea. She’d made it through showering and a light breakfast of toast and tea with no issues. Gotten through the first of the viewings without even a twinge. In the mudroom, Gui’s fajitas smelled wonderful and she thought she was home free.

  It wasn’t until she sat at the table that the rich odor of green peppers, onion, tomato, and grilled meat got to her.

  In truth, it wasn’t until Kathleen sat down and asked how things were going with Mat that the full-on morning sickness hit. And her sister didn’t even know there was anything going; she’d only been talking about the pre-sale viewings. When Nathaniel came in the feeling got worse and Vanessa knew she had to get out of the dining room before her condition was no longer a secret. As much as she wanted to share the news, especially with her sister, Vanessa wasn’t willing to challenge the tenuous common ground she’d just found with Mat. She needed a few more days to make sure they were really on the same page.

  Mat stood between Vanessa and the bunkhouse, shielding her a bit in case anyone there watched. Or at least that’s what it seemed like to her.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I know we didn’t talk about not telling my family, but I’m just not ready for the questions that will come with them knowing yet.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “Not a problem. I’m not sure what to tell them yet, either. It isn’t exactly like we planned any of this.”

  The weight of his arm was a comfort and at the same time, brought tension back into her space. Little shots of electricity shot from his body to hers, making her achingly aware of him, not as a friend but as a lover. He leaned over and brushed his lips over her hair. Vanessa closed her eyes and sank into him a bit, a smile stretching over her
lips. She turned slightly and her arms went around his waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Finally the nausea calmed and she drew in a deep breath without the feeling of a rolling stomach following it.

  If only this were real.

  “Do you want to tell them?” she asked him. Vanessa craned her neck so she could see his face. His expression was conflicted. He didn’t like lying to her family, and she didn’t think it was only because they were his employers. Maybe she was wrong and telling the family would make all of this real. If someone knew — someone besides her, Mat, and the doctor — maybe it would solidify what she felt building between them. At the same time, she wanted to keep the secret. She wanted something that was only hers. So far the baby was hers, and Mat, too, to an extent. There was no point sharing everything when it might be nothing. What if, when Kathleen, Mitchum, and the rest of the world knew, it all blew up in her face?

  “When you’re ready. They’re going to figure it out soon enough any way.”

  No kidding. She’d just about blown it — literally — over lunch. If Kathleen didn’t already know, she was close to figuring it out.

  “I think, for now, we keep it between us. At least until the sale.”

  She felt him nod. “Whatever you want.” They stood, wrapped around one another for a few more minutes. Vanessa breathed in Mat’s scent — hay and saddle leather and yummy male all wrapped into one enticing package.

  A package she was finding it hard to resist, even when her heart warned her it couldn’t last. She pulled away from him. Time to get a little distance before the morning sickness had her seeing things that weren’t there.

  “Are things better between you and Nathaniel?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “I think. I don’t know.” Aside from their moment beside the vegetable garden, he’d avoided her presence on the ranch. Until lunch today. She wasn’t sure what to make of that or his question at the table. What was better when the previous relationship was a flat line? “Things aren’t the same between Nathaniel and me as they are with him and Kathleen. Or even Monica. I’m … too much of a bad memory, I think.”