Texas Wishes: The Complete Series

by Kristina Knight

  It was all going so well. Too well.

  Mat had skipped the viewing today, leaving one of the hands in charge. The buyers chatted about the potential of the bulls, semen reports, and past buys. She tuned them out. She had nothing to add in any case. She may have written the copy about the bulls, she may have asked every possible question, but she didn’t completely understand what all the statistics meant.

  Back at the office, the men continued their conversation as they exited the gator and climbed behind the wheels of their trucks. Vanessa waved them off and then rubbed disinfectant on her hands before she went inside. At her desk she made a couple of notes on the calendar for the next viewings. She opened the spreadsheet for the sale, noting which bulls were viewed, comments from the buyers. Of the bulls on the viewing list, twenty were getting a lot of attention. She shot an email to Mitchum and Mat about the viewing numbers. Those bulls should see additional bids once the sale started.

  In the back of her mind, though, she wondered about Mat. Where was he? Why did he skip the viewing?

  Why was it so important to her that he be there?

  She thought about their conversation last week in the parking lot. The accident. No wonder he’d reacted badly to her news, not that she expected much more than disinterest from him. Since that night, she found it hard to separate their work and personal relationships. Her vision of him had changed. He wasn’t just a lone cowboy. He had a past not completely unlike her own.

  She’d twisted herself in a million directions to make her mother happy. She’d married well because the only comfort she’d ever known was the comfort of money. She’d watched her life combust in a heartbeat because she’d let go of a little control.

  A honk disrupted her thoughts. A brown-suited deliveryman hopped from his truck with an envelope. Before he reached the door, Vanessa knew the contents would be one of two things: the sale papers for the house or the paternity papers. She’d had her lawyer change the paternity suit slightly, to allow Mat unlimited visitation. She refused to ask him for child support, though the lawyer insisted her stance was ridiculous. Vanessa didn’t care. She didn’t need anyone else supporting her and neither would her child. They would be just fine on their own, if it came to that.

  She ripped into the envelope before the delivery van was back down the road. Sale papers. All she had to do was sign the offer and her last tie to Paul and San Antonio would be gone. Her mouth twisted. She pushed at the memory of the house, but instead of sadness, excitement ran through her veins. The buyers wanted everything in the house, and they’d agreed to her full asking price. Even after paying commissions, she’d have a comfortable nest egg. Money that was hers to do with as she pleased.

  She signed next to the blue arrow tape left by her agent and squealed as she entered the date. Butterflies took flight in her abdomen and a smile stretched over her face. So this was what freedom felt like. She could get used to this.

  The phone rang and she absently picked it up.

  “Van, it’s me.” Paul’s impatient tone brought her immediately back to earth. “About time you answered the phone.”

  “Paul. Hi.”

  “Listen, babe, sell the house, keep the house, I really don’t care.” High winds echoed through the phone line, making it difficult to hear every word. He must be driving with the top down. “You should keep it, though, for old time’s sake.”

  Old time’s sake? He had to be kidding. She had to be hallucinating.

  “I’ve found I like looking forward better than in the rear-view, thanks.”

  His laugh carried over the line clearly as the wind lessened. He must have pulled off the road. “You never were one to look back, were you?”

  Vanessa had to admit he was right. The one lesson she’d learned from Gillian was to move forward, no matter what. “Listen, I have one last paper you need to sign, about the house and contents. Should I have my lawyer fax yours?”

  “Why don’t we just have lunch? Freddie’s off to New Orleans for a family thing so I don’t have anything to do. I could be in Lockhardt tomorrow.”

  Freddie? Vanessa couldn’t imagine that nickname sat well with Fredericka. Not her problem, though.

  Paul had nothing to do except lunch with her. Vanessa shook her head. The last thing she wanted was a lunch with her ex, but if he signed the paper now, she wouldn’t have to deal with him or the house again. Well, not until the actual closing date. The thought was too tempting to pass up.

  “The only place to eat here is the Cattle Café.”

  “I could go for a greasy cheeseburger.” An image of Paul shrugging his elegant shoulders entered Vanessa’s mind. He might be heir to an oil fortune, and a sought-after Orthopod but Paul had never stood on airs when it came to junk food. “So, lunch?”

  “Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Selling the house, cutting those ties was a step in the right direction. A step back into control. Now she was considering letting go of that for Mat? A man who seemed to understand her like no one had before, but who shared so little of himself in return. A man who focused on work completely, and then pulled a no-show two days before the big sale.

  Vanessa knew she should run, figuratively if not literally. Yet once Paul clicked off, she forwarded the phone to voicemail, left a note for Pamela to take the afternoon off and closed the office. She needed to know what was going on with Mat and now was as good a time as any.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t home. Or in the barns. His horse was there, but the gator he drove when he wasn’t horseback was gone. Where could he be? Vanessa glanced at her watch, impatient with him and whatever was going on. She knew the schedule by now. Knew the bulls were his priority until after the sale. He should be at the pens or helping the hands bring the last of the animals down to the main holding yard for the sale. Yet he was nowhere to be found.

  The vet’s truck pulled in and Trickett Samuels’s long form exited the large vehicle to amble toward the pens with his bag. One of the guys met him and they were soon lost in the sea of beef. Vanessa shaded her eyes, looking to the horizon and damning herself for wanting so badly to see Mat in the distance.

  Three or four of the hands herded a smattering of bulls over the hill and down toward an open pen. Probably the animals from that morning’s viewing. She blew out a breath.

  “He’s probably helping them bring down the holding pen from the viewings.” Kathleen’s voice startled her and Vanessa jumped.

  “Who?”

  Kathleen’s smug smile had Vanessa rolling her eyes.

  “Okay. Yes, I was looking for Mat.”

  “Had a feeling.” The big bay horse at her shoulder blew out a breath, as if impatient to get wherever they were going. “You want to talk about it?”

  Yes. No. Oh, who was she kidding? Vanessa wanted to blather on about Mat to anyone who would listen. The fact Kathleen was the first to ask was icing on the cake. It was the kind of sister moment she’d always wanted.

  “I like him. A lot.”

  “We gathered that at lunch the other day when he rescued you from the table.”

  Of course they did. “Breakfast didn’t sit well with me,” she said, hoping Kathleen would buy the lie. Talking about Mat was one thing. Talking about the baby and the insecurities he or she brought to the table were quite another. “He skipped the viewing today and I just wanted to tell him about it.” Another white lie.

  Kathleen put her hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you. If Jackson wasn’t more man than I could handle, I’d have looked twice at Mat Barnes.”

  Vanessa tilted her head to one side. “He’s just so hard to get to know. I think I’ve got him figured out and then he does something like this — ” she held out her hands “ — not showing up for work doesn’t seem like the Mat I know.”

  The horse blew again and then rested its
head on Kathleen’s shoulder, as if she were an old friend.

  “Men are like onions, you have to peel them back a layer at a time or they’ll make you cry.” She paused. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never known Mat to back away from anything. My guess is if he didn’t show, he had a good reason.”

  That was the problem, Vanessa thought, she and the baby were pretty good reasons he might have left. Men said things they didn’t mean all the time, she reminded herself. The thought of Mat leaving was a punch to her abdomen. Vanessa drew in a shallow breath and felt the world tip sluggishly. She barely knew the man — how could his absence mean this much to her?

  “Kath, when did you know Jackson was the one for you?”

  Her sister smiled and a peaceful expression crossed her face. “When he didn’t go running into the Mexican morning the day we woke up on the beach together. And then when he stuck around after Grandfather interrogated him in the study. When I followed him around San Antonio, trying to see what he saw in those decrepit buildings.” Kathleen crossed her arms. “When he figured out Nathaniel was back on the wagon and challenged me to give him another chance. It was a million little things, I guess. Why?”

  Vanessa shrugged. Did she love Mat? She thought about him all the time. Paul had never entered her thoughts so much. She worried about Mat and not just because he was nowhere to be found. She worried he wouldn’t buy the McIntyre place. That he’d never have the space of his own that he so desperately wanted. She worried she and the baby would take those things from him. But just thinking about a person didn’t mean love. Did it?

  “Oh. My. God. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Vanessa shook her head. No, it wasn’t love. It couldn’t be love. Not when Mat was obviously running away from her.

  “Yes.” The word was barely a whisper, but Kathleen heard.

  Kathleen looped their elbows together and began walking as Vanessa tried to get her head around loving Mat. When had it happened? Was it only because of the baby? No, she didn’t believe that. She loved Mat for a million different reasons, just as Kathleen said she loved Jackson.

  For teaching her to feed a calf.

  For believing in her ideas for the sale.

  For taking her to the dance.

  For showing her his dream.

  She loved Mat. Vanessa tested the thought, mentally feeling around the edges for pain or hurt. Instead she felt hopeful, like this was one more step toward taking her life back.

  “Does he love you?”

  “I have no idea,” Vanessa said as they walked past the office and stepped onto the gravel lane leading to the foreman’s house.

  “Are you sure you want to be with him? Because, Van, I can tell you he’s not like Paul. He won’t live in a house in the historical district of San Antonio or Dallas or any other city.”

  “I sold the house. The papers just came in today.” She paused and the horse bumped into their backs. Vanessa giggled when its breath tickled her ear. “And I’m happy about it. I’m done with that house. I’m done with that Vanessa.”

  Kathleen smiled. “You look happy.”

  “I am happy. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m going in a direction I want to go in instead of following where I’ve been told to go.”

  “Then go get your man,” Kathleen said. She turned Vanessa around by the shoulders. Just coming around the corner was Mat in the gator. Her man. Excitement and nervousness bloomed in Vanessa’s chest.

  She turned back to Kathleen and wrapped her arms around her sister for the first time in her life. “Thank you.”

  “You deserve to be happy. Go take back your life, Van.”

  It only took her a moment to reach Mat. He stopped and rested his arms over the steering wheel. She sat on the bench seat beside him and watched as Kathleen and the big horse disappeared around the bend.

  “I missed you today, at the viewing.”

  He nodded. “I had a couple of things to do and the guys had it under control.”

  She couldn’t read his voice, but Vanessa refused to be afraid. This transformation in her life was about more than changing her character. She needed to believe in herself. So she pushed forward.

  “The email about the buyers is waiting and there aren’t any viewings set for tomorrow, so it’s just final sale and party preparations.” She waited but he didn’t say anything. “I sold the King William District house. Well, I signed the papers. They have to be filed, but in thirty days or less I’m officially San Antonio homeless.”

  “Good for you, if that’s what you really want.”

  Vanessa tried to get a read on Mat, but couldn’t. Once more she plunged forward, if all she got was a cold shower in return, she would deal with it, she decided. “You know it actually is what I want. When I talked to the real estate agent, I thought I’d be sad or upset when it sold. If it sold. But it was a relief more than anything. A relief that that part of my life is over. Kind of like permission to move forward, if that makes any sense.”

  “Makes perfect sense.” Mat reached across the seat and took her hand. A spark of electricity shot up her arm to her heart.

  “I thought we might sneak away to celebrate,” she said.

  He rubbed his thumb against hers and sat back against the seat. Vanessa watched his chest rise and fall under the soft denim of his jacket. Mat’s Adam’s apple rose and fell in his throat. “I think, before we do that, you should know I’ve talked to your grandfather.”

  Shock filled Vanessa. Before she could say anything, Mat continued on.

  “He doesn’t know about the baby. At least I don’t think he does, but he’s got a feeling about you and me. I figure we’re doing such a piss-poor job of keeping this, whatever it is, a secret, we may as well embrace the feeling and tell everyone.”

  It was Vanessa’s turn to swallow. “You do?”

  He looked at her, reached across the seat and took her hand in his. “I’m not saying I love you because I don’t know. I do know that I care about you. Not because of the baby, but because of you. You’re funny and smart and I can’t seem to get through a day without thinking of you a time or twelve.”

  The hope in Vanessa’s chest bubbled over. Mat Barnes cared about her.

  “I think about you, too. And not just because you don’t seem to know how to delegate.”

  Mat smiled at that. “I’m buying the McIntyre place, if you’re interested.”

  “But I thought you didn’t have the money.”

  “I decided I didn’t want to waste any more time. But if you don’t like the place, if you don’t think you’d want to live there, I could buy some other property.”

  “You want me to live there? With you?”

  His brown gaze bored into hers. “I want to be with you, Vanessa, but I’m not going to live in your family’s home. It isn’t me. Neither is Dallas or Houston. What I’m saying is, yes, I want you to live with me. In that house, in Lockhardt. And we’ll see where this goes from there.”

  It wasn’t a proposal that she had ever dreamed she would receive, but it was the most perfect thing he could have said to her.

  • • •

  Just after noon the next day Mat watched Vanessa hop into her Porsche and roar down the driveway. A grin split his face. She might pretend to be prim and proper, but the way she drove that car screamed to the world there was a bit of hellcat left in Vanessa Witte.

  Trick Samuels finished the last bull exam, straightened, and made a notation on his clipboard. No more bulls to screen. No more herd movements. The livestock were gathered for the sale tomorrow, most of the hands given the day off, and he found himself at loose ends.

  They hadn’t said anything to her family, just walked into the dining room last night, holding hands, to find no one there. The room remained empty, save the two of t
hem, through the meal. He taken Vanessa out to another movie later and they’d spent the night in the cabin, making love.

  He’d been startled to see the tiny belly bump. Startled and thrilled and a little bit scared, he admitted. What if he screwed up this kid’s life?

  A day later, he wondered the same thing. He’d made changes not to be like his family back in California. But what if? Mat hated ‘what if,’ so he pushed the questions to the back of his mind.

  Trick tossed the papers and bag in his truck. “This is probably not the place to say it, but I’d kill for a cheeseburger about now.” He pushed his cowboy hat back on his head so it tilted at a crazy angle.

  Mat laughed. “I’d kill for a beer.”

  “I hear Gladys got her liquor license back.”

  “Cattle Café it is, then.”

  They were seated at the café , longnecks sweating on the table before them, in under a half-hour. The lunch crowd at Gladys’s was light. The waitress, a slim blond who liked to flirt, dropped a basket of onion rings on the table and disappeared behind the counter. The two men talked cattle and the weather for a few minutes and then Trick whistled low under his breath.

  “If it isn’t the divorcees, looking chummy over lunch.”

  A chill creeped down Mat’s neck, prickling his hair. Vanessa stood at the door with Paul, looking “chummy,” indeed.

  “I thought they were over and done with months ago.”

  Mat shrugged, as if his world wasn’t crashing down around his ears. Vanessa with Paul could mean only one thing: She’d decided against the small town life after all. Funny how a woman could do that in under six hours.

  “The wealthy live by different rules,” he managed, the words sounding flip. Like he didn’t care at all. The wealthy did have different rules. He’d lived by them for the first twenty-five years of his life. Was glad to be out from under them for the last five. So why did he want to stalk across the room and shake some sense into Vanessa?