by Andre, Bella
“I do.” Josh reached out to shake his hand, which forced Conner to turn his thoughts away from Delaney for a few seconds.
“Good to see you again,” Conner said. “Want to sit down?”
“Sure.” Josh pulled up a chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and hooked an arm over the wooden back. “I’ll have a Heineken,” he told the waitress, who’d hurried over the moment she saw him and was smiling eagerly at them both.
“I’ll have one, too,” Conner said.
She looked expectantly at Roy, who shook his head, then told them she’d be right back.
Josh scooted his chair around so he was half facing the dance floor. “I hear you’ve put the place up for sale,” he said.
Roy’s scowl left no question as to how he felt about that, so Conner answered. “Yeah.”
“How much you askin’?”
“You in the market?”
“Possibly. My brother and I’ve been looking for some long-term investments and we think the land will be worth quite a bit someday, when the economy improves.” He shrugged. “In the meantime, we can always use the acreage to expand our business.”
Conner thought about how his grandfather had started out—as a poor country boy who’d borrowed every dime he needed to buy land and stock his first year. Somehow Clive had managed to make good, to build something out of nothing. The last thing Conner wanted was to let the symbol of that legacy slip through his fingers.
But all the nostalgia in the world couldn’t save a failing ranch. “I’ll send you a sales packet,” he said.
Josh gave him a friendly smile. “Roy knows where to find me.”
The waitress returned with their beers, and Conner insisted on buying. Josh said he’d grab the next round, but the way he kept glancing at the corner where Delaney and her friends were playing darts bothered Conner. He wasn’t sure there’d be a next round.
“You see something you like?” Conner finally asked. “What?”
Conner indicated Delaney and her group with a nod. Josh grimaced and brought his chair around. “No, Rebecca’s engaged. And I’m going out with someone else.” So it was Rebecca who kept drawing his eye, not Delaney. Conner couldn’t understand any man being attracted to Rebecca over Delaney, but in that instant, he decided he liked Josh Hill, after all.
Roy chuckled. “Josh would never get involved with Rebecca, anyway. They can’t even say hello without an argument. Ain’t that right, Josh?”
“Right. I’m not a glutton for punishment,” he said, but something about the way he said it made Conner wonder whom the man was trying to convince.
“Remember that time when you two were still in high school and she wrote ‘Josh sucks’ with bleach on your lawn?” Roy asked.
“How could I forget?” Josh laughed and shook his head. “My father was furious. It took all summer to restore the grass.”
“What did you do to set her off?” Conner asked. “Stole some panties from her gym locker and ran them up the flagpole,” Josh said with a grin. “Which was probably bad enough. Only Rebecca doesn’t wear just any panties. These were more like a thong, so she was pretty embarrassed.”
“But he didn’t have to do anything to provoke her,” Roy explained. “For some reason, she’s always had it in for him.”
Josh glanced over at Rebecca again. “Yeah, it’s a good thing she’s marrying and settling down.”
The wistfulness in his voice told Conner he wasn’t very convinced of that, either, but before the conversation could go any further, a tiny brunette—probably only five feet flat and a hundred pounds—marched up, wearing a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter sweater, and helped herself to Josh’s beer.
“There you are,” she said to him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“This is Mary,” Josh said. He took a drink from his beer bottle, since she had his glass, then tipped the mouth of it at a slight angle toward Conner. “Mary, have you met Clive Armstrong’s grandson?”
She shook her head, her smile bright. “This is Conner?
I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard a lot about him.” Conner could only imagine what.
“Congratulations on the coming baby, by the way,” she said. “I didn’t realize you and Delaney even knew each other before you moved to town.”
We didn’t, Conner thought, but he wouldn’t say it. He sensed Mary was probing, and whether Delaney deserved to have the truth catch up with her or not, he refused to leave her vulnerable to the ridicule of this woman or anyone else. “We once met in Boise,” he said, making it sound as though it was some time ago.
“That must have been a memorable meeting,” she said. Conner smiled. “It was.”
Too memorable, he added mentally.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK they’re talking about?” Rebecca asked, covertly eyeing Conner and Josh when Billy Joe and Bobby went to the bar to get another drink.
Delaney set down her darts and took a stool, firmly keeping her back to Conner so she wouldn’t be tempted to stare. “Us. They keep glancing over here.” She knew because she caught Conner looking at her whenever she looked at him.
Rebecca bit her lip, and Delaney knew she wanted to smoke, just as she knew Rebecca would never let herself do it while Josh Hill was in the bar.
“I haven’t seen Josh for months and now I seem to run into him everywhere,” she complained.
“Maybe he’s trying to warn Conner about us,” Delaney said.
“No one’s ever warned anyone about you.”
“He’s too late, anyway.”
Rebecca didn’t seem to be listening. “And where there’s Josh, there’s Mary,” she added.
“Beck, you’re really scaring me. You’re getting married in a month, and yet I’m beginning to suspect you have some sort of interest in Josh.”
“Interest?” Rebecca cried. “I have no interest in Josh Hill. I’ve never even liked him. He’s the last person on earth I’d ever get with. I—I don’t even find him attractive.”
Delaney narrowed her eyes. “Okay, I know that’s a big lie.”
Rebecca glowered at her for a moment before answering. “All right, so six feet two inches of lean muscle, a calendar smile and golden-brown skin would be attractive to anyone. But the only feelings I have for him are bad feelings.”
“I don’t know, Beck. Methinks thou dost protest too much.”
“When I was eight, he made me wreck my bicycle and skin both my knees,” she said, as if this unfortunate incident was somehow relevant today.
“So? You paid him back by giving him a fat lip. Besides, that was twenty-three years ago. What’s your point?”
“That I don’t like him any more now than I did then.” Delaney scrutinized Rebecca’s face. She knew her best friend too well to believe what she was saying, and yet Rebecca was so emphatic about it that Delaney could do nothing but accept her words at face value. “You’re sure, then? About Buddy, I mean?”
Rebecca waved her concern away. “Of course I’m sure.”
“How are you sure?” Delaney pressed.
“What do you mean?” Rebecca picked up her darts and threw a perfect bull’s-eye. “He loves me for who I am. And he...I don’t know.” She threw another dart and hit a ten, which didn’t count for anything. “There’s no pressure. It’s nice.”
“And Josh?” Delaney asked.
Rebecca threw her third dart, which missed the board entirely, bounced off the wall and hit the floor. The two groups playing on either side of them looked up in surprise. Rebecca gave them a glare that told them to mind their own business, and they went back to their respective games. “He and Mary are meant for each other,” she said. “Golden boy marries golden girl. High school quarterback marries high school cheerleader.”
Delaney scooped up her own darts, waited for Rebecca to remove hers from the board, then began to throw. “I hope you’re right—about Buddy, about Josh, about everything,” she said. “Because I’ve got to tell you, I’ve never met anybody as unlucky in
love as we are.”
“Did someone say they want to get lucky?” Billy Joe piped up as he and his brother returned, coming in on the end of the conversation.
Bobby wiggled his brows at them. “Ladies, look no farther,” he said, but before Delaney and Rebecca could tell them both to quit dreaming, another man interrupted. A man who hadn’t previously been part of their group.
“Not tonight,” he said, and the sound of his voice made Delaney’s final throw veer off and nearly stab Rebecca. It was Conner. He was standing at their table, holding her coat, which she’d slung over a stool. “Come on, Delaney,” he said. “It’s time to go.”
Chapter Fifteen
DELANEY BLINKED. “Did we have plans to leave together?” she asked.
For a moment Conner looked a little uncomfortable. “No, but it’s getting late and you need your rest.”
Delaney wasn’t ready to go. She was having fun for the first time in weeks. “But I’m not going back to the ranch,” she said, trying to understand why he was being so insistent. “I’m off for the weekend, remember?”
“I know,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
An assertive person stands up for her tastes, desires, values and opinions, Delaney told herself. An assertive person does not give in to the domination of others.
But an assertive person also recognizes the validity of others’ views. So she didn’t see any harm in standing up to Conner without making a scene.
“Will you excuse us for a moment?” she asked Rebecca, Billy Joe and Bobby, who were staring at them in surprise. “Remember what I did to Josh when he skinned my knees?” Rebecca muttered. “All it takes is one punch.”
Delaney feared it wasn’t going to be as easy as one punch. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and took her coat from Conner.
“You tell him, Laney!” she heard Billy Joe call as they made their way out.
The cold air felt good after the overcrowded, smoky atmosphere of the Honky Tonk. The night was clear, the stars bright. Delaney leaned against the outside wall and opened her mouth to tell Conner exactly what she thought, but then Josh and Mary came out and she said good-night to them instead.
“What’s the matter?” she asked Conner once they were gone.
The light from the windows of the Honky Tonk was too dim to read much of his expression, but Conner didn’t look happy.
“Nothing,” he said. “Everything’s fine. It’s just getting late.”
“Late? It’s not even midnight. The Honky Tonk doesn’t close until two.”
“I’m ready to leave,” he said. “I’m not.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked to the edge of the porch, pivoted and came back. “Well, you shouldn’t be drinking. It’s not good for the baby,” he said.
“I’m not drinking. I’ve only had soda water. I’d never do anything to endanger this baby.”
He hesitated. “Second-hand smoke isn’t good for the baby, either.”
Where was he going with this? “Conner, Rebecca always smokes outside the house. So the only time I’m around second-hand smoke, even hers, is here, and I come maybe twice a month. I don’t think that puts me in a high risk category.”
“Why do you want to stay here, anyway?” he suddenly demanded. “So you can dance with Curly and Moe in there?”
“That’s Billy Joe and Bobby, and they happen to be friends of mine.” She pushed away from the wall and went to sit on the bench that seated the Honky Tonk’s overflow on warm summer nights. “And I’m having fun. You don’t have a problem with that, do you? Because I’m finding your reaction a little strange. You’re my employer.”
“I’m also the father of your baby.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s what I want to know!” He leaned on the railing facing her, but where they were was even more shadowed than by the door, and she had a hard time figuring out what he was feeling. He seemed upset, frustrated, but when she’d left him at the ranch he’d been fine. Why the change?
“I can tell you what it doesn’t mean,” she said. “It doesn’t mean you can order me around or decide where I go or when I leave.”
“This is crazy,” he said. “I have no rights where you’re concerned. If you want to dance with someone else, you’re free to do so. If you want to go home with someone else, you’re free to do so. Yet you’re walking around with my baby inside you.”
“I already told you, I’m not going to do anything to endanger this baby! I’m amazed you care so much about it. You’ve been angry ever since you found out.”
“It’s not just the baby,” he said. “Then, what?”
He frowned. “It just doesn’t seem right that you can take off with any guy you want.”
“You have the same freedom I do,” she argued. “Maybe I don’t want it,” he said, then straightened as though he was surprised by what had come out of his mouth. He tried to correct himself. “I mean, of course I want my freedom. I just...”
“Don’t want me to have any?” Delaney supplied. “No, that’s not it. I realize that wouldn’t be fair. But—” he paused, grimacing “—oh, I don’t know. If you stay, what are you planning to do?”
“Nothing!”
“Then what’s the big deal about leaving?”
“You’re the one who’s having a problem.” She thought about going home just to please him. He was obviously worked up about her staying. And she’d brought this whole baby thing on herself. But she couldn’t see any point in giving him that kind of power over her, didn’t like where it could lead. Whether she stayed at the Honky Tonk or went home shouldn’t matter to him. She’d just gone through three of the most miserable months of her life, and tonight, for a change, she wasn’t sick. She wanted to be with her old friends and pretend she hadn’t destroyed the life she knew—before Rebecca got married and moved away and everything became irretrievably different.
“This conversation isn’t making sense,” she said.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and after another pause, said, “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m saying. Go inside and have a great time.” Then he strode off into the darkness.
Delaney heard his truck start, watched his headlights swing around as he drove out of the lot, and wondered why going back inside suddenly seemed so much less important than it had five minutes earlier.
DELANEY SAT AT THE TABLE, no longer interested in playing darts or dancing or anything else. Rebecca and Billy Joe and Bobby badgered her about her abrupt change in mood for the first half hour or so, but Delaney couldn’t forget the frustration on Conner’s face, couldn’t release herself from feeling responsible for his confusion and anger.
Eventually Billy Joe took a bathroom break and Bobby wandered off to play some pool, leaving Delaney and Rebecca alone at the table. “Delaney, he was in the wrong, so forget about it, okay?” Rebecca said.
Delaney rested her chin on her fist. “I’m the one who started all this, Beck. I feel terrible.”
“I told him he can walk away if he wants to, that you want him to walk away.”
“I don’t want him to walk away.”
“Then, what do you want?”
At this point, she wasn’t sure. She’d altered her life and Conner’s, and even Aunt Millie’s and Uncle Ralph’s, with one night’s irresponsible behavior. But there was no changing things now. And sometimes, when she thought about the baby, she knew she wouldn’t go back even if she could. “I want to go home,” she said. “Can you get a ride?”
IT FELT GOOD TO BE HOME in her own bed, in her own room, and yet Delaney couldn’t stop thinking about the ranch. Rebecca had stayed at the Honky Tonk, promising to catch a ride with someone sober, but she wasn’t home yet, and Delaney found it odd to be completely alone. She was so used to Conner being somewhere in the house, just a few rooms away. She thought about the times she saw him throughout the day—when he was freshly showered in the morning, with his hair wet and curli
ng slightly around his ears; when he was heading out to work, wearing his jeans, boots and cowboy hat; when he came in for dinner, looking tired and dirty but still appealing, always appealing; at night, when he buried himself in his office and his jaw was just beginning to show dark stubble after a long day. The moment she’d realized Conner was Clive’s grandson, she’d expected him to be lazy or incapable of doing the work required of a cowboy. But from what she’d observed, he cared about the ranch, worked hard and was quickly gaining the respect of the other ranch hands. Even Roy, who hadn’t been the least bit happy to have Conner at the Running Y, now seemed to admire him more than anyone else did. Except, perhaps, some of the ladies who’d seen him at the Honky Tonk tonight.
Delaney remembered the heads he’d turned and wondered how she would’ve felt if he’d shown any interest in those women. It would’ve bothered her to see him on the dance floor with someone else, to think he wanted to take someone home with him. Billy Joe and Bobby weren’t any threat to Conner or anyone else, so she had difficulty seeing them in the same light. But Conner didn’t know them or her habits. Maybe the way he’d behaved tonight hadn’t been so strange, after all.
Rolling over, she eyed the phone, wanting to call him. But it was nearly one o’clock. Conner was probably asleep; he’d left the Honky Tonk before midnight.
When she went back to work on Monday, she’d tell him she understood how he felt and see if they could work out something they could both live with until the baby was born. The front door opened and closed, and Rebecca made her way noisily through the living room and down the hall. “Buddy called,” Delaney said, when Rebecca passed her door.
“What’d he say?”
“He wants you to call him tomorrow.”
“Okay. Want to go out for breakfast in the morning?”
“Sure,” Delaney said. “Just don’t wake me up too early.”
“No chance of that. But aren’t you going to get up and bake pies this weekend like usual?”
“I’m not going to bake any pies for the next few months.
I’m sick of baking pies.”