Wildcat Cowboy (The McCabes of Texas #2)

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “That’s exactly what your father always says,” Gus murmured, shaking his head. “He gets that very same look in his eyes.”

  Josie pleaded, “Just hold out a little while longer.”

  Gus glanced out the window at the drilling rig. “We’ve just had so many problems on this one, Josie—”

  “Wade McCabe is totally cool with all that,” Josie replied mulishly, as she rushed around, trying to find her last clean pair of jeans and a shirt. “If he wasn’t, would he have agreed to let us continue drilling or be taking me to dinner at his family ranch?”

  Gus scowled suspiciously and rubbed at the back of his leathery neck. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do!” Josie threw her arms around him and kissed Gus’s cheek. “This is all going to be fine in the end,” she told him enthusiastically. “Better than fine! You’ll see!”

  Giving him no chance to argue with her further, she shooed him out, then headed for the shower. Ten minutes later she was dressed again and heading out to meet Wade. His glance slid over her old, faded jeans and equally faded—but clean—red denim work shirt.

  “Get whatever you needed to, settled with Gus?” he asked, almost too casually.

  Josie looked up at Gus, who was standing on the drilling rig platform and talking to Ernie and Dieter and still regarding Josie and Wade as if he was worried.

  “Gus just wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing when it came to you and me.” Josie paused. “I told him I did.”

  Wade looked at her steadily.

  “And that was all?”

  Josie struggled against the sudden wish to tell him everything. She gave Wade her most innocent look. “What else could it be?”

  ALTHOUGH VISIBLY SURPRISED to see the denim-clad Josie arrive with Wade, instead of some dolled-up society lady, John and Lilah welcomed Josie into their home with the warm hospitality that had become their trademark in the community.

  Then John winked at Josie—who was still none too sure she’d done the right thing in accompanying Wade here, even if it had gotten her away from Gus and his second thoughts!—and turned back to Wade. “Your mother and I know there isn’t a situation in the world you think you can’t handle,” he drawled, prodding his son deliberately, “but this may be it.”

  “Underestimating me a tad, aren’t you?” Wade returned.

  Lilah sized up the situation with equal aplomb. A knowing smile on her face, Lilah wiped her hands on the apron around her middle, then linked her arm through Josie’s. “Come with me, honey. You can help with dinner.”

  “I’d love to help however I can,” Josie said as she walked with Lilah through the wide, wooden-floored hallway. She felt immediately at home in the McCabe’s sprawling, rustically decorated ranch house. “The only problem is—I can’t cook.” Her repertoire to date included iced tea with sliced lemon—a southern staple—and not much else. Unless you counted cold cereal with milk and peanut butter or lunch meat sandwiches.

  Lilah handed Josie a denim apron from a hook behind the door. “All you have to do is stir the gravy. Nothing to it,” Lilah soothed, unperturbed, as she began removing pieces of crusty golden chicken-fried steak from the big cast-iron skillet on the stove and laid them on a platter. “I’ll talk you through it,” she promised, as she slid the steak into the oven to stay warm.

  Lilah sprinkled several tablespoons of flour into the drippings in the pan. Handing Josie a wooden spoon, she pointed her toward the cast-iron skillet and motioned for her to begin stirring.

  “So, how did that son of mine talk you into this?” Lilah asked, going to the refrigerator for milk and butter. “What exactly did he offer you to entice you to let yourself be used this way?”

  A reprieve from Gus’s censuring gaze, Josie thought, as she stirred the flour into the drippings and watched as the mixture turned a smooth, bubbling brown. “What makes you think Wade offered me anything except the pleasure of his company and a chance at a home-cooked meal?” Josie asked Lilah.

  Lilah tested the potatoes with a fork. She smiled with satisfaction as the potatoes fell apart. “Because I know my son, and he thinks the world revolves around money and business success for him and everyone else. Bottom line, he has to come out ahead financially and otherwise in literally every situation or he is unhappy.”

  Josie could see that was true.

  “Worse, he is convinced he has a Midas touch,” Lilah continued as she lifted the pan off the stove and poured the steaming potatoes into a colander to drain.

  “Does he?” Josie kept stirring as the mixture in the skillet got thicker and thicker.

  “Up till now—without peril. At least in his business life. His personal life is another matter.” Lilah grabbed the milk and poured some in Josie’s skillet. The thick smooth roux immediately became lumpy again, prompting Josie to stir even harder. “Which is why I think you should stay clear of my son, Josie, at least for the moment.”

  Wade strolled in. “You told her not to date me?”

  Lilah turned on the hand mixer and began to mash the potatoes. “In a nutshell, yes. Though it pains me to admit this—” she paused to add milk and butter to the potatoes, “—I don’t think you’ve yet learned to treat women with the gentility and deference they deserve.”

  John joined them, too. He lifted a lid on the stove and gave the simmering green beans a stir. “Although, in our son’s defense, it’s not as if he never knew how to treat a woman. Wade was a fine gentleman till he met Sandra.”

  Wade’s mouth tightened instantly. He glared at his dad. “I thought we agreed never to talk about that again!”

  Josie wouldn’t have minded. She wanted to know more about the woman who’d had a lasting impact on Wade McCabe.

  Lilah finished whipping the potatoes and turned off her mixer with a resounding click. “If it weren’t still hurting you, I wouldn’t,” she said stubbornly.

  Wade filled glasses with iced water and carried them to the kitchen table, which had been draped with a pretty blue-and-white-checkered tablecloth. A bouquet of flowers sat in a stoneware crock on the center of the table.

  “It isn’t hurting me,” Wade pushed the words through a row of white, even teeth.

  “Oh, really.” Lilah brought out the tossed salad and began to dress it with balsamic vinegar and oil. “Then why is every female you’ve brought home in the last five years a shallow debutante or heiress?”

  At the mention of debutantes and heiresses, Josie went very still. Guilt flooded her, making her cheeks turn alternately red and white. “You’ve got something against debutantes and heiresses?” Josie asked Lilah casually, remembering finally to give the cream gravy bubbling in the skillet another desultory stir.

  Lilah smiled at Josie gently as she began to transfer the steaming food to serving dishes. “Not per se,” she replied gently, “just the ones who haven’t an earnest thought in their heads. And those are the only kind he’s brought home! I might as well say it, Wade McCabe. I want to see you and the rest of your brothers married.”

  “So work on them,” Wade said, making no effort to mask his exasperation.

  “I am,” Lilah replied.

  Wade wrinkled his nose as something noxious began to compete with the delicious aroma of steak and potatoes. “What is that awful smell?” he demanded.

  “Oh, my heavens!” Lilah looked down at the smoking skillet.

  Josie followed Lilah’s gaze and groaned. She’d done it again.

  “I’M SORRY ABOUT THE GRAVY,” Josie told Wade as he parked his truck in front of her trailer.

  Wade vaulted out and came around to help her with her door. “Stop apologizing.” He grasped her hand and helped her down from the truck. “We didn’t need it, anyway.”

  Josie tossed her head and sent him a rueful look. “That’s kind of you to say, but you know as well as I do that chicken-fried steak without cream gravy is like an ice-cream cone without the ice cream.”

  Wade shrugged his broad shoulders. He looked handsome an
d imposing in the early-evening light. And in absolutely no hurry to go home. “So we saved ourselves a few calories,” he drawled in a husky baritone that sent shudders of acute awareness racing up and down Josie’s spine.

  Josie slowed her stride as they approached the concrete steps leading up to her front door. For reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom, she was reluctant to go in. Reluctant for the unexpectedly delightful evening to end. She bit into her lower lip. “I suppose.”

  As they paused in front of the steps, Wade reached up and smoothed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “My parents really liked you,” he said gently.

  Josie nodded. She cast a look at the crescent moon, already visible in the dusky sky above, before returning her gaze to Wade’s face. “I like them. They’re very nice people.”

  He turned to her, his shoulder nudging hers as he moved. “You going to take them up on their offer and have dinner out at the ranch without me?” he asked in the same soft, self-confident voice.

  She met his eyes and with effort overcame the quivers of desire starting deep inside her. Wondering if he was going to try and kiss her good-night before she slipped inside, as well as what she’d do if he did, she asked, “Would it bother you if I did?”

  The corners of Wade’s lips turned up in a slow, sensual smile. “In a way, yeah—maybe because it’s the first time they’ve ever liked my date more than they liked me.”

  Josie flushed self-consciously as her heart took on a slow, thudding bear. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  A glimmer of humor sparkled in Wade’s eyes before he turned his attention to the UPS box wedged just inside the screen door. “Looks like you’ve got a package.”

  Glad for the diversion—maybe it would make her stop secretly wishing he’d haul her in his arms and kiss her!—Josie leaned forward and retrieved the package. “It’s a care package from my mother,” Josie murmured, covering up the return name and address with her hand. Worse, she had an idea exactly what was inside. And knew with a certainty as solid as gold that the contents were nothing Wade should see. “Maybe it’ll have some clean clothes in it,” she joked, holding the thick rectangular mailing box to her chest. “And speaking of laundry, I better get a move on if I’m going to get any done tonight.”

  Wade grinned and regarded her mischievously, his lively dark brown eyes alight with interest. “Not inviting me in, hmm?”

  Josie shook her head. “Thanks for dinner.” Giving him no chance to protest, she slipped inside. She waited till he headed back toward his Expedition, then opened the box. Inside was just what she’d thought—a beautiful evening gown, exactly her style, and just right for the summer social season.

  It had been so long since she’d worn anything so ridiculously frou-frou and feminine. Her mother was right, Josie thought wistfully as she ran her fingers across the sheer, pale mauve silk. She didn’t miss the endless whirl of glittering social events and the pressure to look incredibly beautiful at each and every event, but she did miss feeling like a woman, dressing up. Since she’d started working for Wyatt Drilling she’d hardly worn anything but jeans.

  Josie wondered with amusement what Wade McCabe would think if he saw her in this. Laughing softly, she shook her head and held the dress up to herself wistfully, peered into the minor on the back of the open bathroom door. And that was when she saw Wade McCabe, standing just on the other side of the screen door, watching her.

  Chapter Four

  Figuring she had no recourse but to brazen her way through this sticky situation, Josie held the enormously expensive evening gown up to herself in the mirror, then turned ever so slowly and looked at Wade.

  “No doubt about it,” she quipped, tongue in cheek. “Mother has outdone herself this time.” She sighed, secretly regretting the fact she’d never have any place to wear the incredibly gorgeous gown, at least not in the near future. And carefully put the elegant dress, embroidered with finely beaded garlands of tiny pink petals and long flowing vines, back down in the folds of tissue.

  Wade stepped inside, file folder in hand, the reason for his unexpected return evident. Wordlessly he handed her the legal papers she’d accidentally left in his track, then swept off his hat and held it to his chest. His glance dipped briefly to the dress before returning to her. “You don’t like it?”

  Josie’s breath hitched in her chest as she tilted her face up to his. Just being near him again made her heart skip a beat. “It’s obviously not for me.”

  He dropped his hat on the sofa and swaggered closer, his steps long and lazy. “How do you know unless you try it on?” he asked huskily.

  Josie’s eyes focused on the wispy ash-brown curls springing from the open collar of his shirt. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She couldn’t wear a dress like that around the drilling site! And she’d look equally ridiculous wearing it around her utilitarian Wyatt Drilling Company trailer

  Wade leaned closer. His warm breath whispered across her ear. “Afraid you’ll like it, huh?” His voice was sexy, self-assured and faintly baiting.

  Josie swallowed and stepped back. “Of course not.”

  A slow, sexy smile spread across the ruggedly handsome contours of his face. “Then try it on,” Wade dared.

  Josie looked into his eyes. She knew he thought she wouldn’t dare. And it was the challenge in his brown eyes that prodded her to behave just as foolishly and impetuously as he was.

  “Fine, but when I do you’ll see what I’ve already told you—this dress is just not for me, not by a long shot.” She picked up the box, cradled it to her chest and swept toward the bedroom.

  “I don’t know about that,” Wade called after her, his gaze moving up and down the length of her. “I think it could be. Given the right circumstances.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “Well, the right circumstances aren’t likely to come along out here,” she said stubbornly.

  “You never know.” Wade sauntered closer and stood, arms folded in front of him, leaning against the door frame. “Besides, it never hurts to be prepared,” he said as he watched Josie perch on the end of her bed and kick off her boots. His brown eyes lit up merrily. “Say, for instance, if we were to strike oil by week’s end. I might just By you and the rest of the guys to Houston in my Lear jet to celebrate in style.” He smiled as if he’d like nothing better, then wagged a finger her way. “If that’s the case, then you will be needing the dress.”

  With effort Josie shelved the mental image of the two of them painting the town red. Although she enjoyed the finer things in life as much as the next person, she didn’t need them in order to be happy, never had. “When we strike oil, a dinner at the local diner would be fine.”

  “I doubt Gus, Ernie and Dieter would be so quick to dismiss my offer, even if it required they wear a dinner jacket.”

  Probably not, Josie thought, struggling not to notice how good Wade looked in his tight-fitting jeans, boots, light blue shirt and stone-colored sport coat, or how ruggedly at ease.

  Deciding he’d seen quite enough of her bedroom—with its mussed bed and heaps of dirty clothes fighting for space among the stacks of country and western compact discs and geology and drilling handbooks—Josie vaulted to her feet and hop-skipped her way to the door. Hand to his chest, she pushed him back, knowing if a point was to be made this was indeed the very best way to make it. “Have a seat on the sofa out there, cowboy. I’ll be out directly.”

  Deliberately leaving her hair in the mussy ponytail on the back of her head, Josie quickly divested herself of her jeans and faded red denim shirt. She had only to look at the low, scooped front and back of the sleeveless gown to know it would not work with any bra she had with her. So, reluctantly she dropped that, too. Then, clad in socks and panties, she slipped into the sexy gown and zipped it to mid-spine.

  The glittering gown swirling around her, she moved toward the full-length mirror nailed to the back of the closet door. As suspected, the gown was a perfect fit. As for the rest—Josie sighed and shook her head as she l
ooked at her sunburned face in the mirror.

  As much as Josie hated to admit it, her mother was also right about this: the weeks spent working out in the Texas sun had wreaked havoc with her hair, nails and skin. Her long brown hair was no longer in perfect condition. Her cheeks and nose were sunburned, her lips chapped and dry. And dam it all, there was a part of her, a small part, that did regret looking like this.

  She’d been cultivating an image of a Texas tomboy to add to her own credibility as an up-and-coming, independent oil woman and wildcatter in her own right, and to a point she had enjoyed keeping the grooming routine ultrasimple, and not having to worry about anything except showering and putting on a set of fresh clothes every day. But there was another part of her—a deeper, womanly part—that missed wearing makeup and pretty clothes, a part of her that missed the long, fragrant bubble baths she used to take, and the time to do something with her hair.

  There was a part of her that missed the occasional night on the town, the chance to feel beautiful and eat a good meal, have a glass of wine and dance in a man’s arms.

  But Wade McCabe could not know any of that, Josie warned herself. What he had to see was a woman who would never be the perfect lady of his dreams.

  So Josie left her thick white socks on and kept her hair in the unkempt ponytail. Forgoing even the tiniest hint of makeup or lip gloss, she squared her slender shoulders, pivoted and made her way around her cluttered bedroom to the door. She yanked it open and then walked as ungracefully as possible out into the room.

  Knowing she looked ridiculously dowdy in the glittering dress, Josie expected Wade McCabe to take one look at her and burst out into uncontrollable laughter. Instead, his eyes darkened and his powerful chest rose and lowered as he took a long, deep breath. His brown eyes still locked with hers, looking like he’d just found the most beautiful girl in the world—or at the very least a gem in the rough—he stood and came slowly toward her.