by Day Leclaire
“Sure you don’t need my help?”
Ty managed to contain his response to a simple, unequivocal, “Positive.”
“I don’t know,” Hutch said morosely. “Once Mom’s made up her mind, it’s real tough to get her to change it. She can be pretty darned stubborn.”
“Yeah, well, I can be pretty darned persuasive. In case you weren’t aware, gentle persuasion has moved many a stubborn mule.”
Hutch’s pale brows drew together. “What if that doesn’t work?”
“Then I’ll hog-tie her to a fence rail until she sees reason.”
And chances were good he’d have to do precisely that.
Progress Report
I’m back on-line now and the experiments were a success. Ty did just what I hoped. You know...he’s okay. He’s kinda tough, but fair. Even when he found out what I’d done, he didn’t yell or anything. And he didn’t treat me like a kid, even though he keeps calling me that. He’s punishing me for lying, but that’s okay. Except for having to clean the cabin, the punishment is gonna be fun. I always wanted to be a cowboy, even if it’s only for a couple of weeks.
Oh! And I told him about Georgia. Boy, was he mad. But at least he knows. Maybe now he can stop her.
I don’t want to move to Georgia. I want to stay in Texas. I want to stay with Ty.
The truth is...I want Ty to be my dad.
CHAPTER SIX
Experiment #3: Living at Ty’s + Romantic Situations = Love
Goal: I think people fall in love faster when they hang around together a lot. Now, Mom won’t go for that. She’s really good at saying no! And Ty seems to want to take it slow for some stupid reason. So I’ll have to find ways to hurry them along if I’m gonna have a dad before I turn fifty!
Procedure: Get them in places where they’ll want to kiss. (Yuck!)
TY CONFRONTED Cassidy across the generous expanse of his office. “The hell with gentle persuasion! I should have known it would never work with you,” he bellowed. So much for broaching this subject with delicacy and tact. “Now, what do you mean you’re moving to Georgia?”
The hell with gentle persuasion? Where had that come from and what did it have to do with her impending move? “What’s wrong with Georgia?” Cassidy bellowed right back, grateful for the solid door separating Ty’s office from the rest of the house. With luck, it would limit the number of people overhearing their “discussion”. Well...with a lot of luck.
He glared at her for an endless moment before muttering, “I don’t live there and neither should you.”
Her lips twitched and her anger faded as swiftly as it had risen. “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”
Unfortunately, while her annoyance had ebbed, his had intensified. He booted a leather ottoman out of his path and came to loom over her. Not that she let him get away with it. Heck, no! She shoved her nose to within inches of his and glared back.
“I’m ridiculous?” he demanded. “Why? Because I want you to stay here? Because I’m willing to admit there might be something happening between us, while you’re intent on running away?”
He knew just which buttons to push to ignite her temper. “I’m not running away.” She fought to lower her voice.
“I’m going home.”
“Home?” That stopped him. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“I...” Good question. Why hadn’t she? Maybe she hadn’t said anything because she suspected he’d react precisely like this. Or maybe she’d kept quiet because she’d taken one too many pages from Lonnie’s book on how to sneak away without anyone knowing. “It didn’t come up,” she said, airing the excuse with a hint of bravado.
Not that he swallowed it. “Bull. We agreed to be honest with each other, remember? Now give it to me straight. Why are you moving to Georgia? I thought you’d told me you didn’t have a heritage or roots or a home like mine.”
“I don’t. Not really. I guess you could say Georgia is as close to a home as I’ve ever had.”
Home. How odd that sounded. She’d never thought she’d call her old neighborhood by that name again. Not in this lifetime. But if she reconciled with Aunt Esther and Uncle Ben, she and Hutch would have family and roots. They’d finally belong instead of being tossed to and fro across Texas like hapless tumbleweeds. She could stop running.
“You still consider Georgia in those terms—as home—even after a ten-year absence?”
Not really. “Of course.”
“You have family there?”
“An aunt and uncle,” she admitted. “We’ve exchanged a number of letters recently and they’ve indicated that they’d like me to come back. They want to get to know Hutch and put our problems behind us. They’re not as young as they used to be and I’m not sure how much longer they can manage on their own.” She gave a helpless shrug. “It seems right somehow.”
“To mend fences and put down roots.”
“I see you’ve been talking to Hutch.”
Ty ran a hand across the back of his neck. “A bit. I can tell you he’s not anxious to leave Texas.” His eyes glittered with undisguised frustration. “I’m not anxious for you to leave, either.”
Why did she have the uncontrollable urge to throw herself into his arms and confess her desire to remain right where she was? Why did the idea of returning to Georgia suddenly feel so very wrong? And why did a part of her continue to fight so darned hard to deny those urges?
“That decision was made long before we met.”
“And now that we have met?” He dropped his hands to her shoulders, enclosing her in warmth. It was a warmth she wanted to inhale clear down to her soul, a revitalizing warmth like a fragrant summer breeze on a starlit night. It carried the whisper of promises kept and hope renewed and a fathomless, endless love. “Now that we’ve touched each other, now that we’ve kissed?”
She shivered, caught by those dueling urges. The one continued its strident demand that she find a home in his arms and never leave, while the other replayed the history of her last botched love affair. Her only love affair. The voices of fear won and she pulled free of his grasp, surrendering ground in order to distance herself from him. She tripped over the poor abused leather ottoman in her haste and it rolled drunkenly on its side.
“Look...” She lifted her chin, attempting to project a calm control she didn’t feel. “I left home under unfortunate circumstances—”
“You got married. Sure, it didn’t work out, but at least you—”
“I was pregnant.” The truth escaped in a rush.
That brought him up short. “A shotgun marriage?”
“Not really. My aunt and uncle didn’t want me to marry at all. They thought I should have the baby and put him up for adoption. Instead, I took off and married Lonnie.”
“Does Hutch know?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t mentioned it. If he’d ever asked, I’d have been frank with him.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “There’s not much point in lying. All he has to do is check the date on my marriage certificate against his birthday. Since there’s only seven months between the two, it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to figure out what happened.”
Compassion turned his eyes to jade. “No. I can’t see Hutch being easily fooled.”
“Nor would I want to fool him.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, aware of how telling the defensive gesture must appear. “For all Lonnie’s faults, he did the honorable thing by me back then. It wasn’t easy for him. He’s a runner by nature and it must have taken a lot of guts to marry me when every instinct urged him to grab the first bus out of town.”
“So why did he run after five years? Why hang in there so long?”
Cassidy firmed her lips, praying Ty wouldn’t notice how they trembled. But to this day, the memories skulked in the far recesses of her mind like shadowy nightmares. “He didn’t hang in there. He ran at the first opportunity—one short month before Hutch’s birth, to be exact.”
“The m
onth before...” Comprehension dawned, along with a deep, burning anger, an anger directed squarely at Lonnie. “And you spent the next five years chasing after him.”
Hearing it stated out loud made her decision seem downright pathetic. But she’d been so young and so scared. And so desperately broke. Pride had come last in a long list of needs—a list Hutch had topped, just as he topped it now. “Something like that.”
“What stopped you from following him? April Mae?”
“No. I could have dealt with that. But he hurt Hutch, said unforgivable things. And that made me realize that no father was better than a bad one.” By that time, she’d also discovered that she could scrape by on her own.
“I’m sorry, Cassidy. You must know that not all men are like Lonnie. Some of us have staying power.”
A knock at the door saved her from answering. Edith poked her head into the room and glowered at them. “Dinner’s on,” she announced. “Miss Willie arrived while you two were having your little discussion. When she heard the set-to goin’ on in here, she decided to wait in the dining room with young Hutch. She asked for a drink. A strong one. And the boy asked for one, too. Gave him the most powerful lemonade I had on hand. If we don’t eat soon, the sugar rush is like to knock him loopy.”
Ty nodded. “Go ahead and serve the meal. We’ll be right there.” The second the door slammed behind her, he turned to Cassidy. “This discussion isn’t over yet.”
“It is as far as I’m concerned.” She kicked the upended ottoman back into position. To her surprise, Ty leaped out of the way. Jeez. No need to overreact. It wasn’t as if she was aiming at him or anything. “Now that Hutch has told you about Georgia, you can understand that a relationship between us would be impossible.”
“We’ll see,” was all he said. “Shall we eat?”
“I could use the fortification,” she muttered.
A quick grin slashed across his face. “Stoking up for our next battle?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll keep you well fed.” He waited until she swept past before adding, “Not that it’ll do you any good. This is one war I intend to win.”
To Cassidy’s relief, dinner turned out to be a delight. Willie entertained them with stories of her dating agency and the various matches they’d made, particularly her most recent ones. “Autumn and Clay were already crazy about each other,” she explained. “They were just too stubborn to realize it.”
Cassidy cupped her chin in her palm and smiled wistfully. “But you got them to see the light?”
“Not me,” Willie denied. “I have to give Maria credit for that one. She knew how to handle those two. And don’t forget Cody and Emily.”
“Not to mention that damned magazine article,” Ty inserted in annoyed tones.
“What article?” Cassidy questioned, thoroughly confused.
“Now, Ty, don’t fuss. Emily didn’t know they were going to do a hatchet job on us. That was the magazine editor’s fault. Fortunately, Wanda saw through all the lies and ended up making the perfect match, without even using the—” Willie broke off with a laugh and inclined her head toward Hutch. “Good gracious. I think it’s time a certain young man turned in.”
Startled, Cassidy glanced at her son. He’d nodded off at some point, his cheek pillowed by an uneaten pile of mashed potatoes. His glasses sat cockeyed on his face, making him appear far younger than ten and infinitely more vulnerable than when he was awake and busily manipulating the world around him and the hapless mortals peopling it. Beneath his chair, Miz Mopsey snored delicately, apparently as exhausted as her master.
“I’ll carry him to one of the spare bedrooms,” Ty offered. “I think the bunkhouse better wait one more night.”
Cassidy pushed back her chair. “Thanks. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’ve never seen him so worn out. You’d think he’d spent the whole day working instead of exploring the ranch.”
Inexplicably, Ty chuckled. “Oh, I suspect he found a chore or two to keep him busy. Get used to it, Cassidy. Ranch life might be a bit more physically strenuous than he’s used to, but it won’t hurt him.”
Her maternal concern faded. “I’m sure you’re right. In fact, it’ll probably be good for him.” She watched as Ty levered her son onto his shoulder. Scrawny arms crept around his neck and clung. For some reason, the sight brought tears to her eyes. She cleared her throat, hoping no one would notice how husky her voice had grown. “He doesn’t get out in the fresh air as much as I’d like.”
“Don’t tell me we’re in agreement about something?” Ty demanded. “You’re willing to admit that ranch life is good for the boy?”
She wrinkled her nose at his teasing. “I suppose that ninety-nine percent had to kick in sometime.”
“Ninety-nine point four,” Willie corrected, her tone reflecting intense satisfaction.
Cassidy turned, surprising a smug expression on the older woman’s face. “Excuse me?”
“I reran your form with the alterations Ty gave me and it came up ninety-nine point four percent this time. It seems the changes improved your odds.”
Oh, great! “Well, maybe...” she conceded. “But there’s still that one percent difference.”
“Point six,” Ty corrected, gently digging potatoes out of Hutch’s ear and wiping gravy off his cheek. “And closing all the time.”
“According to the computer,” Cassidy pointed out before addressing Willie again. “I don’t suppose your machine made any additional matches?”
“Nope. Looks like you’re still stuck with my grandson.” She lifted her glass and winked. “Better the devil you know, I always say.”
“Hey! Whose side are you on?” Ty protested.
No question about that. Clearly, Miss Willie approved the match as much as Ty and Hutch. Which left her standing all alone and defenseless—not to mention tempted beyond endurance to buckle beneath their not-so-subtle pressure. “What would you have done if there’d been other matches?” Cassidy asked.
A lazy grin crept across his mouth as he started to leave the dining room. She gave chase, curious to hear his answer. “I’d have invited them up to the ranch,” he explained as he headed down a long hallway. “That way, I could have checked them out before they dated you.”
Yeah, right. “Don’t you mean scared them off?”
He shoved open the bedroom door next to hers. “That, too.”
“I don’t get it. Why are you so certain we’d make a good match?” She turned down the bed and stepped out of the way so Ty could lower her son to the crisp cotton sheets. “I mean, it can’t really be because the computer said so.”
He tugged off Hutch’s sneakers and jeans and then removed his glasses, gently setting the wire rims on the nightstand. “It isn’t.”
She moistened her lips, steeling herself to ask the question that had been plaguing her since yesterday. “It’s that kiss, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” With infinite care—more care than she’d ever seen Lonnie display—Ty pulled the sheet over Hutch and tucked it around the boy’s sleeping form. “Didn’t you feel it, too?”
She preceded him across the room and switched out the lights. “That’s just a physical response,” she replied in an undertone. “Hardly enough to base a serious relationship on.” She should know. She’d fallen into that trap once before.
He pulled Hutch’s door closed. “It’s a start.”
She shied away from the eventual outcome that predicted. Why couldn’t she get across that she wasn’t interested in a long-term affair? Heck. She wasn’t even interested in a short-term one. “But there’s more, isn’t there? More than just a kiss.”
He hesitated in the darkened hallway. “I guess you’d call it a family tradition.”
“Kissing?” she asked in disbelief.
A broad smile slid across his bronzed face. “That’s right.”
“Interesting tradition.”
“Oh, it gets even more interesting.”
He propped his shoulder against the wall and captured her hand, drawing her to a halt. “You see, according to legend, the Merricks always know their soul mates when they finally meet.”
Not safe! In a replay of their first meeting, the words shrieked in her head, threatening to deafen her. But she was helpless to resist his comment or the inexorable pull on her hand. “How do you know?” she demanded.
“The same way you knew. It only took one kiss.”
Panic darkened her eyes to slate. “No. Don’t say that.”
“It’s only fair that I tell you the truth.”
Fair? What was fair about any of this? Her response to his kisses wasn’t fair. Hutch’s desperation to have a father wasn’t, either. But least fair of all was her uncontrollable reaction to Ty, a reaction that echoed his and that grew more intense with each hour in his company. “You don’t understand. I’m not interested in dating.”
“You got that part across loud and clear. The question that remains is...why?” He tilted his head to one side. “I’ve heard Hutch’s opinion on the matter. What I haven’t heard is yours.” He paused a beat. “But not tonight, I don’t think. You look exhausted.”
He’d let her off the hook and ironically enough he did it at the very moment she was tempted to crawl into his arms and tell him everything. She really must be exhausted. “I think I should turn in now.” Ask me to stay.
He feathered a hand along her cheek. “Anytime you want to talk, I’ll be here for you.”
“Thanks. Please say good-night to your grandmother for me.” She took a deep breath, almost drowning in the scent of him. Using every scrap of strength she possessed, she turned away. After all, her independence was more important than anything.
Right?
Cassidy glanced around the room Ty had assigned her and released a sigh that was half beatific and half sorrowful. This one room was larger than her entire apartment—and that didn’t even include the attached bathroom. The tub alone could hold the navy’s Pacific fleet with room to spare for a yacht or two.