Cowboy for Keeps

by Cathy McDavid

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Conner said. “But we may find her owner.”

  “I can also print up flyers. Distribute them to the ranches and residential communities located in the foothills.” Her enthusiasm grew as the ideas took shape. “The mare’s friendly. She’ll probably seek out other horses. People, too. If they can’t capture her and the colt, they can report their location to us.”

  Dallas hadn’t hesitated including herself.

  “It’s worth a try,” Gavin concurred.

  “I’m riding out tomorrow afternoon.” Conner fingered the edge of one particularly gruesome picture. “With Ethan and Javier. Clay’s willing to help, too, and can spare a few men.”

  “That’s great!” Dallas’s gaze went from Conner to Gavin. “Thank you.”

  “I figured if we didn’t help, you’d hound us relentlessly.”

  “And you’d be right.” She began assembling the pictures on the table. “If you want to keep any or all of these, go right ahead. I have copies, print and digital, at home.”

  “I’d like that,” Gavin said. “I’m sure Sage and the girls want to see them.”

  “I have one for you.” She reached in her portfolio and withdrew the striking photograph of Conner and Molly standing on the hill, the city sprawled below them, the mountains behind them. “It came out really good.”

  “Hmm.” Conner’s brows rose as he studied the photograph.

  “Let me see.”

  He tilted the picture toward Gavin.

  “Nice. Impressive. You going to send it out?” he asked Dallas.

  “I have a client or two who might be interested.” She reached into the portfolio for a release form and a pen. “Any chance I can get you to sign this?”

  Conner passed the photo to Gavin and took the form. “You really think you can sell the picture?”

  “Possibly. And if I do, I’ll compensate you. Standard rate for models. It’s right there in the release.” She pointed to a paragraph in the middle of the first page.

  “You don’t have to pay me.” His tone took on a slight defensive edge.

  “It’s customary. I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I haven’t sold the photo yet and may not. But just in case—” she flipped the top sheet over “—you sign at the bottom of page two.”

  Conner hesitated and glanced at his friend. “Would you?”

  “Hell yes,” Gavin said. “Be a kick to see my ugly mug on a calendar.”

  “On one condition.” Conner returned the signed release form to Dallas. “I’d like a copy of the picture. Two. One for me, one for my mom.”

  “Deal. I’ll bring you a whole dozen tomorrow. Different sizes.”

  “No need to make a special trip.”

  “I don’t mind. I have to take a few more pictures of the sanctuary. If you have the time for me, that is.”

  “He’ll make the time,” Gavin insisted. “I want this book ready for our spring donation drive.”

  Sage appeared in the entryway between the kitchen and hall, Milo in her arms. “You done here, Dallas? I have a sleepy young man who’s ready for bed.”

  Gavin raised his arms over his head in a huge stretch. “He’s not the only one.”

  “I should get going.” Conner pushed away from the table. “From the way things are shaping up, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  “See you later.” Dallas hoped her eagerness didn’t sound in her voice.

  It obviously did, for Sage stared openly. Gavin, too.

  Conner’s look—filled with longing—was the one that really got to her.

  * * *

  A SMALL NIGHT-LIGHT LIT the corner of the nursery with the rocking chair. Dallas settled onto the chair, a fed and cooing Milo in her lap. Sage perched on a footstool painted with Mother Goose characters, and watched her son, an expression of devotion on her face.

  “Are you sure it’s bedtime, Mom?” Dallas arched her brows. “He’s acting wide-awake to me.”

  “He’ll get sleepy once you start rocking him. The kid has zero staying power.”

  Dallas adjusted Milo, nestling his head in the crook of her elbow and his bottom on her tummy. Pushing with the ball of one foot, she set the chair in motion. He gazed up at her with curious gray-blue eyes, shoved a pudgy fist into his mouth and gurgled happily.

  She fell instantly in love. “If you ever need a babysitter, I’m available.”

  “You’re going to have to fight Wayne for that privilege.”

  Dallas thought of Sage’s father-in-law and nodded confidently. “I can take him. I will, too, for a chance to spend time with this handsome guy.” She leaned down and bumped foreheads with Milo.

  “I’ll keep you in mind for a backup.”

  Without thinking, Dallas began humming a lullaby. “Hush Little Baby.” The one her mother used to sing to her and Liam.

  Cassie stuck her head in the door, Blue by her side, and announced in a loud whisper, “We’re done with our homework. Dad supervised, and he guarantees Isa’s going to ace her spelling test. Can we watch TV now?”

  Sage smiled fondly at Cassie. “Sure thing, mija. But only until nine.”

  Dallas knew enough Spanish to understand the fond endearment. How sweet. Sage and Cassie’s affection appeared genuine and—this was the important part—natural. Dallas thought of her own family.

  Hank cared for her; she knew that in her heart. But they definitely lacked the easy camaraderie Sage and Cassie shared. At this stage, Dallas and Hank were unlikely to find it. Unless, possibly, one of them tried harder.

  If she tried harder.

  “You handle it well,” Dallas told Sage.

  “Handle what?”

  “Cassie. Your relationship with her. Can’t always be easy, raising someone else’s child.”

  “Oh, trust me, it’s not. She’s capable of being a thirteen-year-old hot mess when she wants. There are days I want to... Well, I can’t say. You might change your opinion of me.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Both Gavin and I are learning our way with Cassie.”

  “From what I can see, he’s doing okay, too.”

  “Once they connected, and that did take a while, it was as if she’d never grown up anywhere else but at Powell Ranch and with him.”

  “It still amazes me that he saw her only a few times before she moved to Arizona.”

  “Her mother calls every few days, but we don’t talk about her much as a family. Or Isa’s father, for that matter. He sees her once a month. Not at first, mind you. Last summer he had a change of heart. His new wife’s influence, if you ask me. I, however, wouldn’t care if he dropped off the face of the earth. Not after what he did to me. But for Isa’s sake, I allow the visits and keep my mouth shut. She hasn’t quite fit in with her other siblings or stepmother yet, though they’re making progress.”

  “It might never get any better, take it from me.”

  “Why do you say that?” Sage leaned forward to study Milo, who’d begun to drift off.

  “My mom’s been married to Hank for twenty-four years. I still don’t feel like we’re a family or have anything remotely close to what you and Cassie have.”

  “Is he that bad?”

  “No. He was strict with me and Liam when we were kids. I get that now. Rules were his way of showing he cared.”

  “Most kids struggle with structure. Cassie certainly does. Isa, too.”

  “Yeah, but Gavin’s easygoing. Han
k’s as straight-laced as they come. Prefers a traditional home. Man is the provider, woman cares for the man and the children. Gavin’s not like that.”

  “Dealing with your spouse’s children requires walking a very narrow line.” Sage stood and lifted Milo from Dallas’s arms. “Not everyone manages that successfully.” She carried the sleeping baby to the crib, laid him down and adjusted the blanket.

  Dallas remained in the rocking chair, her arms achingly empty. Before too long, she reminded herself, she’d be holding her own son or daughter. Except on the days Richard had the baby. How would she cope for even an hour without her precious child?

  That was the one and only reason she could think of to accept Richard’s marriage proposal.

  Dallas pushed up from the rocking chair and tiptoed behind Sage out of the nursery and into the hall. There, she paused.

  Right now, at this moment, she was strong. A few months from now, or after the baby was born, she might turn into an emotional weakling. One susceptible to marrying a man she didn’t love just because she couldn’t bear giving up her baby on alternate weekends.

  Chapter Seven

  Conner waited on the stoop in front of the barn office, watching Dallas attempt to start her car. How many times was she going to let the engine grind like that before she gave up and went in search of help? He supposed he should go over and save the battery before she drained it completely, or flooded the engine with gasoline.

  She was just shoving the driver’s door open when he approached. Her welcoming smile made him glad he’d stopped by the office to have a look at tomorrow’s schedule before heading to the apartment.

  “Doesn’t sound like you’re going anywhere soon.”

  “Whatever was wrong with the car last night is worse now.” She expelled a frustrated breath. “My fault. I should’ve taken it in this morning to be looked at, but I was running late.”

  Conner didn’t think he would ever understand female logic, though it did intrigue him. “Pop the hood. Let’s see what’s wrong.” He removed the penlight he usually carried from his pocket. “My guess is your starter’s faulty,” he said, after a brief inspection.

  “Are you sure it’s not the battery?”

  “You doubt me?” He found the prospect more amusing than insulting.

  “No. I’m simply hoping for an easier fix. One that could be accomplished with a pair of jumper cables.”

  “We can always try that. If it would make you happy.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “How sure are you it’s the starter?”

  “More sure it’s the starter than the battery or your alternator.”

  “Great.” She glanced around.

  He could almost hear her mentally exploring her options.

  “I’ll drive you home. You can call your mechanic tomorrow and have the car picked up. Or Gavin and I can figure out a way to tow it there.”

  “I can’t impose on you like that. Let me call my parents.”

  “It’s no imposition.”

  “I live off of Hayden and Indian Bend Road. Twenty-five miles away. That’s far.”

  “You could spend the night here.” He gave her a slow smile.

  “No!”

  Her alarm at his suggestion was almost as amusing as her mistrust in his mechanic skills. “You sure? Because the sofa bed in Gavin’s family room is pretty comfortable. I’ve slept there once or twice myself.”

  “The sofa bed?”

  His smile grew. “Where’d you think I meant?”

  “Nowhere. Gavin’s.” She fussed with her hair. “You were joking, weren’t you?”

  “You’re an easy mark.” He couldn’t see her face, but he’d guess her cheeks were bright red and probably quite appealing.

  Just as well it was dark outside. Conner already found her appealing enough as it was, and harder every day to resist.

  “Come on.” He nodded at her front seat. “Grab your purse and anything else you need and lock up your car.”

  “Thank you.” She collected her belongings and shut the door. “Seems I’m doing that a lot lately.”

  “Having car trouble?”

  “Thanking you,” she said, as they began walking toward the apartment and Conner’s truck.

  “I don’t mind helping you, Dallas.” He opened his truck door, supported her elbow as she placed a foot on the side rail and hopped in. “That’s what friends do for each other.”

  Friends, he reminded himself again as her shapely backside plunked down onto the seat. He had no business dating any woman, much less a pregnant one whose baby daddy was determined to marry her.

  On the way to her place, she told him all about rocking Milo to sleep. “He’s precious. Sage and Gavin are so lucky.”

  “In more ways than one,” Conner agreed.

  “Do you want kids?”

  He sent her a brief look before returning his attention to the oncoming traffic.

  “I shouldn’t have asked that,” she blurted. “It’s just, you were so good with Milo at the dinner table. And you dote on your sisters.”

  “I do want kids. Eventually. When the timing’s right.”

  “I used to think that, too. That I needed to have everything in order first. Husband. Job. Home. Money in the bank. Only then could I start a family. Well, as we both know, it didn’t happen quite that way. And it’s okay. I’m going to be fine. The baby, too.”

  “Because of Richard.”

  “Not just him.”

  “Has he asked you again to marry him?”

  “We talk regularly,” she answered tightly.

  Conner took that as a yes.

  He thought of his former girlfriend and her daughter. If he and Leeza had married, as he’d hinted often enough, he’d have a wife and stepdaughter to worry about in addition to himself. They wouldn’t like living in an apartment on a ranch.

  Leeza wouldn’t, he corrected himself. Her daughter was another story.

  “Have you ever considered leaving the corporate world for good?” Dallas bit her lip. “There I go again, asking personal questions that are none of my business.”

  “No, never. I refuse to quit looking for a job. I made a mistake, taking a few months off after my termination. I assumed, with my qualifications, I’d find employment right away.”

  “A mistake? Why? Don’t you enjoy working with horses?”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “You miss the money.”

  He turned off the 101 Freeway at the Indian Bend exit. “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy the luxuries my old salary afforded me. And saying I miss the challenges of redesigning and updating antiquated production systems is only half-true.”

  “Pride?”

  “In part. I was raised by a dad who taught me a man’s worth is measured by certain things. Among them, his ability to provide for his family. I’m not in that position anymore. But I will be again. Soon,” he added with determination.

  “You do know the ability to provide isn’t important to some women.” Dallas looked out the window rather than at him.

  “Would you respect a man who earned substantially less money than you?”

  “I respect a man who works hard, regardless of what he earns.”

  “But would you consider marrying him?”

  “That’s not a fair question.”

  “Sure it is.”

  She turned away from the window to stare pointedly at him. “If I loved someone, his earning
ability wouldn’t matter.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “A man worth his salt wouldn’t marry without having a good job, love or not.”

  She pondered his remark for a moment. “Would you go out on a date with me if you hadn’t lost your job?”

  In a heartbeat. He’d have been calling her the second he learned she and Richard were through, baby on the way or not.

  “What’s the difference, since I did lose my job?”

  “I want to know.”

  “Remind me, is your street east or west of Hayden?”

  He felt her gaze on him, searching his profile for the answer he’d refused to give.

  “East,” she said after a long pause.

  Their conversation came to a halt, except for Dallas giving Conner directions to her town house.

  He pulled up to the curb on the quiet side street and shut off the truck.

  “You don’t have to walk me to my door,” she insisted.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Another one of those certain things your dad taught you about men?”

  “Can’t help it.”

  He hurried, but didn’t quite reach the passenger door before she was out and on the sidewalk. She rummaged in her purse for her keys. Finding them at last, she started up the lit walkway toward her door, Conner beside her.

  “I’d invite you in but, given our recent conversation, I’m assuming you’d refuse.”

  She looked every bit as appealing in the city moonlight as she had in the country.

  “You can’t possibly know how much I wish circumstances were different.”

  “I think I do know.” She lifted her face to his. “Because I wish they were different, too.”

  His heart jumped. If not for the minuscule thread of control he still maintained, he’d wrap his arms around her waist and find out at long last how she felt pressed flush against him.

  “Dallas.”

  “Yes?” She bit her bottom lip, drew it between her teeth.