Tate looked down at the child, registered his identity, then rustled up a faint smile. “One of my cowboys took a spill,” he replied. He was perceptive, for a man, it seemed to Julie, dazed as she was, but then, he was also a father. A good one.
He knew bad news about Garrett might be more than a little guy could process.
She felt a rush of appreciation for her future brother-in-law.
And tears of worry scalded her eyes.
Libby got out her cell phone and went to the other side of the lobby to call Paige.
“This—cowboy,” Julie choked out, staring up into Tate’s blazingly-blue eyes, “is he going to be all right?”
“We think so,” Tate assured her, and he even grinned, though there wasn’t much wattage behind it. He was pale beneath his tan and his five o’clock shadow.
Julie nodded, dashed at her eyes with the back of one hand.
“Paige is on her way,” Libby said, returning.
Julie just nodded again.
Libby took her by the arm, led her to a chair and sat her down.
Tate disappeared into the back again.
Paige came, spoke in whispers with Libby, took Calvin and left again.
Julie felt as though she were underwater, inside one of those old-fashioned diving bells with the heavy brass helmet and only a little face-wide window to look through.
Blood hummed in her ears.
Libby sat down beside Julie, rested a comforting hand on her back. “So,” she said gently, “Paige and I were right. You are in love with Garrett.”
There didn’t seem to be much point in denying the fact, especially to one of the two women who had always been able to see right through her.
Julie nodded miserably, knotted her fingers together so tightly that the knuckles ached. A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto her right thumb.
Libby hugged her. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “We can talk about it later.”
The wait seemed endless.
Finally, though, Tate and Austin came out of the examination area together. Both of them looked done-in, but they were grinning, too.
“Garrett wants to see you,” Austin told Julie, when she and Libby stood to wait for news. “Hell, he hasn’t shut up about wanting to see you since I told him you were out here.”
Julie almost laughed, but it was a purely hysterical reaction. “He’s all right, then?”
“Garrett’s fine,” Tate said, but he moved into Libby’s arms, and closed his eyes as he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Just roughed up a little, that’s all.”
“Come on,” Austin told Julie. “I’ll take you to him.”
Garrett was sitting on the edge of an exam table, pulling on his boots. His clothes were filthy, and so was his hair, but that grin of his was bright enough to knock Julie Remington right back on her heels.
His shiner had lightened considerably.
“Hey,” he said hoarsely, drinking her in with his eyes.
“Hey,” she replied.
“See you around, Austin,” he told his brother, without looking away from Julie’s face.
Austin laughed and left the room.
“I love you,” Julie blurted out, the moment she and Garrett were alone in the room.
And then she blushed crimson.
“I was about to tell you the same thing,” he said. “Nothing like almost getting killed to straighten out a man’s priorities. Which is not to say that I hadn’t already decided to come back here and ask you if you’re totally sure you wouldn’t want to be involved with a political animal like me.”
Julie went to him. Her eyes were wet and she couldn’t seem to speak.
Garrett slid off the exam table to stand, put his arms loosely around her waist.
She lowered her head, but Garrett made her tip it back by tilting his own to one side and catching her mouth in a light kiss.
“I love you, Julie Remington,” he told her.
She looked up at Garrett, almost unable to believe she’d heard him correctly. “Really?”
He laughed. It was a throaty sound, all man. “Really,” he said. “Will you marry me, Julie?”
She blinked. “Marry you?”
He nodded. “I was thinking we could maybe muscle in on Tate and Libby’s wedding, come New Year’s, tell the preacher to make it a double.”
Julie’s eyes went so wide they hurt around the edges. “Yes,” she said. Amazed at herself. Amazed at him. “Even if it means living in Washington or Austin, instead of Blue River, I’ll marry you, Garrett McKettrick.”
“Washington or Austin?” He seemed puzzled. His arms were still around her, and he pressed her close, and the contact practically struck sparks.
“Isn’t that where you ‘political animals’ like to hang out?”
“This particular animal,” he said, nuzzling her mouth again, getting ready to kiss her in earnest, “wants to live on the Silver Spur with his wife and his stepson and tend to business.”
He murmured the part about tending to business, just as his lips touched hers.
Julie’s knees went weak.
He kissed her as if he meant it.
“THIS IS GOING TO BE MY ROOM?” Calvin asked, a few days later, upstairs in the ranch house, in Garrett’s apartment. “Really?”
Garrett winked at Julie, then put his hands on Calvin’s back and gave him a little push over the threshold. “If it suits you,” he said, “it’s all yours.”
Julie looked on, smiling. After giving the matter a lot of thought, she’d agreed to share Garrett’s room, and Calvin seemed to be okay with that.
Calvin stepped inside, looked around. Garrett and Austin had moved the old furniture out, and replaced it with Calvin’s things from the cottage. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on one wall, and he would have his own bathroom, too.
“Can Harry sleep here, too?” Calvin asked, looking up at Garrett.
Garrett crouched, so he could meet the child’s gaze directly.
Julie ached with love for both of them.
“Sure, he can, pardner,” Garrett answered gravely, ruffling Calvin’s hair. “Harry’s a member of the family.”
Calvin beamed. “He can even get up and down the stairs by himself now,” he crowed, as the dog strolled in to join them, having spent the morning lounging in front of Garrett’s fireplace.
“He’s pretty handy for a three-legged dog,” Garrett agreed, rising to his full height and turning to Julie with mischief dancing in his eyes.
“Ready to go out to the airstrip and check out the new plane?” he asked. Calvin had been promised a flight later on; for now, he’d be staying at the ranch house with Esperanza.
Julie nodded, feeling all shy and warm, and very much in love.
She felt a tingle at the prospect of being alone with Garrett, even in the narrow confines of his Porsche.
He’d be trading that in for a truck soon, he’d told her.
He was just a rancher at heart, and not a politician at all.
Go figure.
They were both content to be silent during the short drive to the airstrip. There, the jet gleamed in the sun, considerably larger than the Cessna destroyed in the crash.
“This is yours?” Julie marveled. They hadn’t gotten out of the Porsche.
“Tate and Austin and I bought it together,” Garrett answered, looking at her instead of the sleek private jet. “Technically, it’s the property of the Silver Spur.”
“Pretty fancy for counting cattle from the sky,” Julie remarked. Charlie Bates and his accomplice were in police custody, but the case was far from closed. The rustling operation was a big one, and some of the thieves were still at large.
Garrett chuckled. “We’ll use a helicopter for that,” he told her, squeezing her hand. “Or do it the old-fashioned way—on horseback.”
Julie swallowed hard. “Are you sure, Garrett? That this is what you really want? Living on the ranch, I mean, and getting married? Giving up your cra
ck at being a senator?”
He leaned across the console and tasted her mouth. “I’m sure,” he told her. Then he inclined his head toward the jet again. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go take the tour.”
Julie felt a sweet shiver of excitement. The jet’s door stood open, and the steps had been lowered.
Garrett got out of the Porsche, sprinted around to Julie’s side and opened the car door for her.
He took her hand, pulled her toward the plane.
At the base of the steps, Garrett swept Julie up into his arms, carried her easily up the incline, both of them laughing.
The inside of the plane was as elegantly simple as the outside. There were eight seats, upholstered in buttery leather.
A silver wine cooler stood on the marble-topped counter separating the small galley from the main cabin, holding a bottle of champagne. Two crystal glasses had been set out as well.
Garrett drew up the stairs, then shut and secured the door.
A delicious little thrill skittered up Julie’s spine. “Are we going somewhere?” she asked, almost breathless.
He took her into his arms. “Oh, we’ll be going lots of places,” he drawled, bending his head to nibble at the side of her neck. “Starting with Paris.”
“Paris? You mean, right now?”
“No,” he said, “I was planning to make love right now.”
She blushed, but she didn’t pull back out of his arms. “Good,” she told him, “because I’ve got Calvin to look after and my classes to teach and a musical to put on, and I don’t have the faintest idea where my passport is or even if it’s still valid.”
Garrett kissed her, thoroughly and for a long time, before he replied. “Calvin will be fine with Libby and Tate for a few days,” he said. “Paige found your passport, and it hasn’t expired.”
Julie opened her mouth, closed it again. So much had happened recently that she could barely keep up.
Tate had hired Ron Strivens, for instance, and he and the kids would be moving to the ranch soon. With a lot of help from Libby and Paige, Julie had managed to pack up the contents of the cottage, most of which were in storage for the time being.
“That still leaves my job,” Julie pointed out. “And the rehearsals for the musical.”
“You’re on vacation, as of today,” Garrett told her, “and several of the parents are going to cover the rehearsals.”
Julie slid her arms around Garrett’s neck, tilted her head to one side. “Well, Garrett McKettrick,” she said, “do you always get what you want?”
His grin was wicked. “Most of the time, yeah.”
“And we’re going to Paris? Just like that?”
“We’re going to bed first,” he said. “Then we’re going to Paris.” Garrett held her a little closer, flicked at her earlobe with the very tip of his tongue. “In the meantime, you might want to fasten your seat belt….”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5608-2
MCKETTRICKS OF TEXAS: GARRETT
Copyright © 2010 by Linda Lael Miller
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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