“I hear that.” Trick tipped his bottle to finish it off and motioned for another.
The waitress brought their lunches and Mat dug in, although his appetite disappeared when Vanessa walked through the door with Paul. It was annoyance, he told himself. Anger. Nothing more. And he’d be damned if she would raise his kid with that jackass.
Mat pushed the plate away, staring hard across the room. Vanessa hadn’t seen them, or if she had, she was back to her old ways of pretending not to see what was right in front of her face. He should have known better.
Trick wiped his chin with his napkin. “I’ve never known you not to eat because of a woman.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not just any woman.”
“None of the Witte women are, my friend.” He opened his wallet and then tossed a few bills onto the table. He grabbed his straw cowboy hat, circling it around his fist a couple of times before putting it back on his head. “Word of advice. If you want her, you’re going to need more than that pretty face of yours.”
Mat rolled his eyes. “Who said I wanted her?”
“Not saying it doesn’t mean you don’t want it.”
“Don’t you have a cow to inseminate somewhere?”
Trick chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See you at the sale tomorrow.” He left the café .
Mat watched Vanessa nibble at the side salad brought out from the kitchen — who ordered salad the Cattle Café? — while Paul regaled her with one story after another. He couldn’t hear them but from Paul’s wild arm movements, Mat guessed it was a big fish story. Or just a fishy story. In his experience the more excited the storyteller got, the wilder the tale and the less likely it had actually happened.
He sat back, crossed his ankle over his knee and waited. He nursed his second beer and then switched to ice water as Vanessa sat, listening to story after story from her ex, the man she swore she didn’t love. Hadn’t ever loved. That should have been his first clue.
He called Gus, his real estate agent, and made an offer on the McIntyre place. Mat offered fifteen thousand less than the asking price — being angry with Vanessa didn’t mean he’d completely lost his mind — and promised to come by to sign the offer papers that afternoon.
It took more than an hour, but her salad gradually disappeared from her plate and Paul eventually ran out of stories to tell. The two sat in silence for a few minutes and then Paul smiled at her, put his hand over hers. He said something softly and then left the café . Vanessa turned to watch him go.
When she turned back to the table, Mat stood over her, but the anger drained out of him in an instant. He wouldn’t give her reason to keep him away from their child. He refused to be angry with her.
“Mat.” A smile lit her face.
“It’s back to Paul, hmm?”
Confusion drew her eyebrows together. Damn, she was a good actress.
“I don’t … It wasn’t … We just had some business to finish up.”
“Business like he’s about to become a daddy in a few months?”
Color drained from her face, leaving her cheeks a ghostly white. A vein at the corner of her eye became an angry blue line under her skin and her pulse picked up.
“You’re the baby’s father, Mat.”
“Only by DNA.”
“Don’t you dare throw that in my face. You know I wouldn’t keep you from your child, and you know I wouldn’t use your child to get to you. Or any other man. I am not my mother.” She pushed back her chair and it smacked against the floor as it fell over. Every person left in the café turned to watch them. Vanessa tossed her napkin on the table. “I don’t know what you think you know, but this baby belongs to you and me.” She spoke between clenched teeth, the words an angry whisper. “Paul and I had business to discuss.”
“Business you didn’t tell me about.”
“Business that doesn’t affect you. It isn’t a secret. I sold the house, I needed his signature. That’s all.”
“The house was awarded to you in the divorce, remember?” Mat leaned forward, nearly nose to nose with Vanessa. He was torn between anger and betrayal. Betrayal won and he stepped back. “I don’t care if you want Paul back. But I’m telling you now you won’t raise my child to be the spoiled, rich, brat you’ve always been. I put an offer on the McIntyre place. If you want Paul, run off into the sunset with him, but leave the kid here.”
He ignored the pained expression in her eyes. It was just acting, not real.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince himself the pain in his own chest was imaginary.
Chapter Ten
The day of the sale dawned muggy and hot. Just the kind of day she’d expect for mid-July. Except it was February and supposed to be jacket weather. Vanessa lay in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. Was it telling Mat about the baby or trying to begin an actual relationship with him? Finally she pinpointed exactly where she’d gone wrong and it had nothing to do with Mat. It was that moment with her legs in stirrups when the doctor confirmed the pregnancy.
At that moment, she should have left Texas and the past behind her instead of coming back here to try to work through her childhood issues. She was an adult, damn it, why not leave the past in the past, the way Gillian had taught her? Why poke and prod at her psyche and try to build relationships with people who never truly wanted her?
Her hand cradled her belly. Never again, she promised the life inside her. Never again would she look back or look outside herself for happiness. She would finish the sale, hostess the party along with Kathleen, and tomorrow morning she would finally take her life back — without a pesky man in the picture to muck things up.
Decided, Vanessa threw back the covers and drowned her sorrow in a piping hot shower, indulgent bath soaps, and a deep conditioning treatment that would put a Hollywood starlet to shame.
Things would really get going in the afternoon and evening hours. If this party was like years past, guests would dance into the wee hours in the back yard. Dress was casual, but Vanessa pushed past every functional, casual outfit in her closet until she hit the mother lode. The ivory lace dress dipped oh-so-low in the back and left just enough room across her middle that the baby bump wouldn’t show. The color blended nicely with her creamy skin, and she had a pair of Manolos in the closet that would add four inches to her height and a splash of ruby red to the outfit. Perfect for showing Mat how little she cared about his ultimatum the day before.
She wouldn’t run to him, beg him to listen to her. Not a chance. She’d told him the truth and he refused to listen. Troubled past, bad break-up or not, she wasn’t his former girlfriend. She’d never lied to him and she deserved a little respect for the work she’d done in turning her life around.
Vanessa bit her lip. The dress was a little much for the actual sale, though. A silky tunic caught her eye and she smiled. Paired with leggings and her black suede knee boots, the outfit would scream polished elegance at the crowd. It wasn’t Texas.
But then, neither was she.
• • •
It was sweaty work, made worse by the strange heat wave that came across Texas the night before. Would make for a great party tonight, Mat supposed as he wiped his brow with a handkerchief before replacing his hat. Sweat rolled down his back. What he wouldn’t give for an icy beer.
Mat motioned to the two other riders in the pens. The three of them worked over ten bulls at a time, bringing them to the chute to enter the main round-pen where buyers were bidding the prices to ridiculous levels. Witte beef was good, but this was crazy.
The heat was making everyone crazy. That had to be why he’d gone after Vanessa yesterday, virtually in the middle of town, making both their lives the talk of Lockhardt. Exactly what he didn’t want. Lockhardt didn’t have a tabloid, but it’s gossip mill was ju
st as thorough.
A flash of ruby red silk caught his eye again. Vanessa, sitting to the side of the pen, a buyer to her left and Kathleen to her right. Mitchum was behind them and leaned forward now and again to say something. Vanessa smiled and threw back her head, laughing.
God, she looked beautiful. Out of place in her silk and riding boots but beautiful all the same. Her outfit also made it impossible to ignore her. Most of the buyers wore denim, a few with button-down shirts. Hats shaded eyes from the sun, buckles shone in the light and boots were dusty on everyone except Vanessa.
She’d left her hair down to fall in waves past her shoulders. Gold hoops sparkled in the sunlight and whatever material those pants were made of hugged her legs like a second skin.
One of the bulls butted against Mat’s horse’s hindquarters. He clicked his heels and took the horse in the opposite direction as he waved off one of the other hands. Paying any more attention to Vanessa would throw this entire system out of whack. He needed to focus on moving the bulls.
Another flash of red and Mat felt his pulse speed up, just like the bulls in those Spanish fights.
Crazy. She shouldn’t register, not after their confrontation yesterday at the café .
Unfortunately, she did register. Once the next bull was loaded into the chute, Mat had a few minutes to think and invariably his thoughts turned to Vanessa.
How had he allowed her to fool him so completely? At least his eyes were opened before he was knee-deep in a marriage she didn’t want. Before either of them could hurt the kid.
Mat took the rear leg as one of the hands got the next bull culled from the crowd and ready to chute. He spared a glance to the side of the pen, but Vanessa and Kathleen were gone. Probably seeing about last minute preparations for the party.
Good, now he could concentrate. If only. His horse pushed the bull toward the chute but Mat was already searching the grandstand area. She was gone.
Why couldn’t he be happy about that?
• • •
Vanessa pushed through the milling people to the patio door. She was tired of being perky and upbeat and charming to the buyers and other early arrivals. Suede knee boots were so not the best choice for an unseasonably warm day. With every step, she felt as if she walked through fire. On the plus side, she hadn’t needed a jacket because her bottom half was warm enough to heat a small country.
She waved as she passed by another group of buyers and friends of the family, and then hurried up the back staircase to her room. Shower, power nap, and she’d be ready to face the crowd.
Ready to face Mat.
He’d captivated her attention during the sale. Every move he made, she knew. He turned his horse around a bull and she felt his hands tighten on the reins. He sat casually, waiting for the next round, and she relaxed along with him. Focusing on the conversations around her didn’t help. She didn’t understand what the buyers found funny. Kathleen was distracted because Jackson had taken a quick photography job in the Arizona desert and she missed him.
The sounds of the party died off behind her as Vanessa made her way down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her and sank back against it as she toed off the boots. Pink walls closed in around her but Vanessa didn’t care. She had at most an hour to get a handle on the next few hours. In less than a day, she could be out of Lockhardt and Texas forever.
Twenty-four hours.
The door clicked open and closed behind her. “I just need a few minutes, Kath.”
“Oh, baby, you need so much more than a few minutes,” Gillian’s cultured voice froze the blood in Vanessa’s veins. What was her mother doing here? She glided across the room as if she floated on a cloud, shook her head at Vanessa’s appearance and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know how you expect to find your second husband looking like a reject from Hee Haw. Leggings and boots? Really, dear, this isn’t nineteen-eighty-five.”
“Mother. What are you doing here?”
Gillian waved a hand in the air. “Why, visiting my daughter, of course. The party is just an added benefit. We have got to do something with your hair. I think a nice chignon would do, especially in this heat.” She fanned her hand before her face, which was perfect, as if the makeup were afraid to run in the oppressive heat. She wore a navy suit that would have fit nicely into a day shopping in New York City. Vanessa owned the same strappy, stilettos from the previous spring and vowed to throw them out when she packed to leave.
“This event requires an RSVP and since I sent them out, I know for a fact you didn’t receive one.”
“Mitchum has you working for your keep, does he? We’ll see about that. You’re a Witte, not the hired help.”
“I volunteered for the job, Mother. I wanted to do it.”
“And that just shows how far you’ve fallen since Paul traded you in for a richer model.” She pushed Vanessa down into the vanity chair and began playing with her hair, pulling it left and then right, to the crown of her head and then gathered at her nape. “On second thought, gathered and tied behind your ear, with a few loose strands around your face would soften those harsh cheekbones you inherited from your father.” She grabbed a brush from the dressing table and began combing Vanessa’s hair.
Gillian focused on the dress hanging on the back of the closet door. “At least your taste in dresses hasn’t fallen off. That, dear heart, will do nicely. You need to show a little skin to entice men these days, you know.” She twisted her mouth to the side and studied Vanessa’s face. “I’m thinking a bright, red lip. Dark eyes. The cattle barons downstairs won’t know what hit them.”
That snapped Vanessa out of her stupor. Gillian was here, uninvited, and trying to match Vanessa up to any eligible — or ineligible — man in the place. Not happening. She might not have Mat, but that didn’t mean she needed a meal ticket.
“Stop it, Mother.” She stilled the brush in Gillian’s hand and placed it back on the table. “I’m quite capable of dressing myself, and if I wanted, I know how to attract a man. I don’t want, for your information. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need a man for money or status or a home with a park view.”
Gillian blanched and took a step back, putting her hand to her heart.
“Oh, stop with the wounded debutante act.” She stood. “I know what I want and what I don’t want. And before you start in on me about staying in Texas, I’m not. I’m done with Texas and cowboys and … all of it. Most especially I’m through allowing anyone else to influence my happiness, least of all you. I’m in charge of that, and damn you for making me sound like a shrink.”
“I’m only trying to help.” Gillian actually looked sorry, an expression Vanessa had never before seen crossing her face.
She reached out to her mother. “I don’t want to hate you, Mother, but you have to stop acting like I’m a toddler in need of direction.” Vanessa sighed. The one person in the world she should feel legitimately angry with and she couldn’t do it. Finally, her character make-over worked. Damn it.
“I’m fine on my own. You should know, it’s how you raised me.” She pointed to the door. “Why don’t you rejoin the party and I’ll catch up with you later.”
Gillian turned to the door, muttering something about Texas and independence. Vanessa ignored her and locked the door behind her mother. She didn’t need any more interruptions.
Just over an hour later, Vanessa rejoined the party but without the lace dress. Gillian’s approval of the dress had the opposite effect. When Vanessa tried it on the garment seemed to make her skin sallow and her eyes bug out like a squished fly. Instead she wore the ribbon and leather Alexander McQueen stilettos with vintage Versace. Still overdressed by Texas barbecue standards, but Vanessa didn’t care. She had a point to make.
Kathleen stood on the raised dais when Vanessa entered the back yard, greeting
the guests. Her sister pointed out the tables loaded with Texas barbecue, beer, and wine and thanked the crowd for coming — and for buying. She couldn’t spot Nathaniel, but then why would he risk his newfound sobriety at a party filled with free-flowing alcohol? Mitchum stood to the side, looking like a proud grandfather. He stepped up on the stage.
“And let’s not forget the organizer of this event, and the bull sale, too. Vanessa, where are you at, darlin’?”
Vanessa’s face heated. She waved a hand but stayed in the back of the crowd. Not that it mattered.
“There you are. Let’s give Van a hand, shall we?” Every face turned to look at her and Vanessa was suddenly grateful for the clothes-armor. She shook her head as the crowd clapped and the band struck up a country tune. “She’s been working hard for the past few weeks and we couldn’t be more thrilled with the outcome. Now, let’s have a party.”
When the gathering forgot about her a moment later, Vanessa could finally breathe. She smiled at a few of the guests who congratulated her on a good sale and a great party.
“You did a great job, kiddo.” Nathaniel appeared at her side, startling her. “I don’t think the turnout has been this big since your mother planned the party. And that isn’t a jab at you,” he said before she could respond. “Your mother and I didn’t make a good married couple, but I can still appreciate her way of planning a party.” He sipped at a bottle of water.
“Thank you.”
“Mat seemed distracted during the sale.”
Vanessa was quiet for a moment. So she hadn’t fooled any of them. At all. “You know about Mat?”
“That you’ve been seeing each other? We’d have to be blind not to.” He finished off the bottle and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “We haven’t talked much since you’ve been back, other than that first week. And I’m not going to tell you what to do because you’ve made it to twenty-six with a pretty good head on your shoulders and without much help from me. But you could do a lot worse than a cowboy, if you’re looking.”
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 31