On occasion, Shaye had wandered into Flutes and Drums to look for a gift or to simply soak in the art. As she stepped into the gallery now, a bell above the door tinkled and low, soft, sweet flute music swelled around her. Stepping inside this space was like stepping into a haven of beauty and talent, history and tradition. As she pushed Timmy’s stroller deeper into the room, she saw Dylan standing at a desk, talking to the gallery owner.
With her long black hair and blue eyes, Lily Reynolds was a beautiful woman with Hopi ancestry in her blood. When she’d opened the gallery two years ago, the Wild Horse Wrangler had carried a human interest story on her. The gallery owner stood close to Dylan talking to him, and Shaye was surprised at the uneasy feeling that seeing them together gave her. They were sharing an animated discussion and seemed almost familiar.
As she approached, she heard Lily say, “I know someone who can matte and frame your photographs quickly so I can get you into an early July show. It would be wonderful if you could be around for it. But if you can’t, your work will sell without you. I always sell anything you give me to display almost instantly. In fact, I have a waiting list.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I have patrons who visit Wild Horse on vacation and buy one of your photographs. Then they go back to Pennsylvania or New Hampshire or Texas, and a few months later I get a call. They want to know if I have any more of your work. I never do.”
Dylan showed genuine surprise at what the gallery owner had told him. “I’ve gotten so wrapped up in shooting photos for magazines and books the past couple of years, I haven’t thought much about selling them in galleries.”
“My gallery,” she reminded him with a laugh. “Maybe you should think about a whole new marketing process, including framed signed prints. I’d love to be your exclusive outlet.”
Because Lily really admired his work? Shaye wondered. Or because she’d like to be around Dylan more and to communicate with him even more intimately? Shaye didn’t know where those thoughts had come from, but she realized she was jealous of the rapport these two had.
When had she ever been jealous of anyone?
As Shaye wheeled Timmy closer to the desk, Dylan spotted her over Lily’s shoulder and smiled. Thank goodness he had no idea of how fast that smile made her heart race.
If she protected herself, she’d be protecting Timmy. Dylan knew she was attracted to him. She had to be very careful she didn’t let him use that attraction to convince her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She had to be very careful that their chemistry had no place in her decisions about Timmy.
Now, though, she had to let Dylan be around his nephew. Once he realized what everyday care consisted of, he might not be so eager to be a dad. It was her only hope. But since he’d never been around kids before, it was a realistic one.
He was dressed today in a blue chambray shirt, black jeans and boots. No matter what Dylan wore, he looked entirely too sexy, too handsome and too strong for her peace of mind.
Crouching in front of Timmy, he gave the little boy a wide smile. “Mind if I take him out of there?”
“Not if you’re careful.” She didn’t know where that defensiveness had come from.
His gaze locked to hers. “I was careful yesterday, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” she had to admit, feeling as fiercely protective as one of the mother lions Dylan captured with his camera.
The gallery owner was watching the exchange, and Shaye didn’t know if she was familiar with their situation or not.
Reaching for a small towel at the side of the stroller, Dylan arranged it on his shoulder first. “I’ve learned,” he joked with a wink.
Yes, he was a fast learner…and not only with Timmy. He’d obviously learned what kind of moves she liked when they kissed. It was obvious he listened for her pleasure and tried to increase it.
The cool gallery air was getting hotter.
As Lily came to join them, Shaye really got nervous.
“He’s adorable. What’s his name?”
“Timothy Andrew,” Shaye filled in.
“After my father,” Dylan added, his voice low.
When Lily looked up at Dylan, her wide blue eyes were understanding. “Is there some peace in that?”
“Yes, I suppose there is.”
Shaye wasn’t going to let their conversation become empathetically intimate. “Timmy has several guardian angels looking out for him,” she contributed.
“Do you believe in angels?” Lily asked her.
“I’m not sure I believe in their physical presence in this world, but I do believe the spirit of our loved ones is with us and that spirit whispers to our heart, giving us guidance and direction. At least, it can if we let it.”
“Interesting,” Lily commented, looking at Shaye thoughtfully. “Dylan was telling me you and he might be sharing joint custody.”
Maybe these two were better friends than Shaye imagined. In fact, maybe they were a lot more than friends.
“Nothing’s been decided yet.”
Obviously feeling the tension that had cropped up, Lily backed away from the subject and extended her hand to Shaye. “I’m Lily Reynolds. I don’t think we’ve formally met.”
“I’ve been in your shop a few times.” Showing friendliness she didn’t feel, she shook the woman’s hand.
“Great. Repeat customers are the best ones. Maybe you can help me convince Dylan that time spent in selecting photographs, matting and framing them would be well worth his time while he’s home.”
Dylan had lifted Timmy up, was holding him high, staring into his eyes as if that helped communicate with him.
If Dylan did the show, then he’d have even more ties to Wild Horse Junction. “Are you seriously considering it?” Shaye asked him.
Lowering Timmy, he held him to his shoulder once more. “I plan to clean out my files. I could select a few.”
“I’m talking about a show, Dylan. I want more than a few. More like twenty-five. Believe me. If you select them in the next couple of days, I’ll have them framed and ready for the show.”
Dylan walked Timmy away from the desk, ambling down an aisle to a grouping on a wall. A few moments later he studied a few sculptures on pedestals. Coming to a decision, he agreed, “All right. Why not? I’m going to be here. But I don’t want the show to be strictly a wildlife exhibit. I’d like to include some other photos—more of an all-around collection.”
“No problem with that. Can you get the photographs to me by the end of next week?”
“Probably. Or soon after. I’ll send some out for processing, but I have a service that’s fast.”
Because Timmy was getting restless on Dylan’s shoulder, Dylan lowered him to the crook of his arm. When that didn’t comfort the baby, Dylan glanced at Shaye.
“He’s probably getting hungry.”
“So am I. Do you want to eat at the Silver Dollar?”
The Silver Dollar was a restaurant with Western atmosphere and good food.
“That’s fine.”
Dylan was already crouching to put Timmy in his stroller. “Okay, little fella. Not too much longer.”
When he stood, Lily was right there and he shook her hand. “Thanks for the opportunity to show my work.”
“It’s a pleasure,” she returned brightly, and Shaye felt jealousy stab her again. Lily Reynolds had intriguing blue eyes as well as exotic beauty.
Yet Dylan didn’t hesitate to pull away and come over to Shaye.
Before they walked out of the gallery, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll see you next week.”
As Dylan sat across from Shaye in the restaurant, he watched her feed Timmy a bottle. She’d been oblivious to the surroundings—brands and lariats on the walls—and to the waitress approaching them as Timmy drank. The look of unconditional love on her face did something to him. When had he ever seen that kind of love?
While the waitress stood there with her tablet, Dylan asked Shaye, “Do you know what
you want to order, or do you need more time?”
With a start, she gazed up at the young waitress, then looked sheepish. “Sorry. I…know what I want. Turkey sandwich on toast, coleslaw and cucumber salad.”
“Buffalo burger, cheese fries and coleslaw is fine for me,” Dylan told the waitress, closing his menu, picking up Shaye’s and adding hers to it. He handed them to the waitress. “Iced tea okay?” he asked Shaye.
“That’s fine.” She smiled at him. “Is that your typical lunch?”
“Actually it’s not. But whenever I come back to Wild Horse I have to fill up on the Silver Dollar’s buffalo burgers and cheese fries.”
So he didn’t keep admiring the glossiness of Shaye’s hair, the peachy smoothness of her skin, the lovely curve of her lips, he glanced around the restaurant. “They painted the walls and rearranged the pictures while I was gone.” The Silver Dollar’s assortment of photographs included Gene Autry and Roy Rogers. A shadow box with old playing cards and a sheriff’s badge hung on the wall near their table.
“You’re observant. I guess that’s your business.” Settling Timmy on her shoulder, she burped him. “Do you find it strange when you come back and things are rearranged?”
“Sometimes when I come home, I feel as if I’ve been on a journey in a time machine. I go from here to somewhere in Africa and I step back in time in some of the villages where I shoot. When I return, there’s a sameness about Wild Horse Junction that I need in between all the rest. A restaurant might have a new paint job, a new bed-and-breakfast might open, but basically the town stays the same.”
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” she said with a laugh. “I thought you might say you were bored when you came back here.”
“Boredom is a state of mind. I don’t bore easily.”
If that was true generally speaking, she wondered why he traveled around the globe. Julia had told Shaye more than once that she wished Dylan could find a woman with a wandering spirit like his, who was interested in the same kind of work. They could partner up and roam together. As it was, he might have an affair for a few weeks on a location, but when he moved on, the relationship was over.
“Do you know Lily Reynolds very well?” Shaye asked, thinking some affairs might occur over and over.
“I’ve known her since she returned to Wild Horse and opened the gallery. But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
In spite of herself, Shaye felt her cheeks flush. After rearranging Timmy for another burp, she plunked his bottle on the table. “I didn’t mean anything in particular.”
“Don’t lie to me, Shaye.” His deep husky voice brought her gaze to his. “You don’t do it very well.”
Unfortunately she was an open book. When she cared about her cases, she wore her heart on her sleeve. Could he actually see how deeply attracted she was to him? How fearful she was that he was going to take away her opportunity to be a mom…to love Timmy the way she’d always wanted to love a child?
Patting Timmy’s back, she tried to be nonchalant. “You seemed to have a rapport. I just wondered.”
As he settled back in his chair, he picked up his fork, then laid it down again. “That’s what happens with women,” he complained. “They talk to each other. I suppose my sister gave you book and verse on my lifestyle, or my lifestyle as she saw it?”
“We were good friends.”
When he leaned forward, his eyes were riveted to hers. “No one knows exactly how someone else’s life feels until they walk in their shoes…or boots…or moccasins. Julia saw the surface of my life, not what was deep down in it.”
“She only knew what you told her.”
“Not exactly. She got an impression from what I told her.”
“Are you saying you don’t live the life of a carefree, wandering bachelor?”
Lowering his voice to plunge them into an intimate conversation, his gaze didn’t waver from hers. “I don’t have a belt with notches on it. Just like any other man, I like company sometimes. But I’m selective and would rather be alone than with the wrong person.”
“How do you know if it’s the wrong person or the right person if it doesn’t last?”
“If I’d been with the right person, it would have lasted.”
His answer might be logical, but in her estimation that logic didn’t work. “How can you possibly know that when you don’t stay in one place long enough to build a relationship?”
Crossing his arms on the table, there was an edge to his voice when he asked, “I suppose these are all questions you’re concerned about for Timmy’s sake?”
“Not only for Timmy’s sake.” She leaned closer and whispered, “You and I had unprotected sex.”
Moments before she could read the emotions in his eyes. Now she couldn’t.
“I told you before, I’ve never had unprotected sex with a woman. I get tested regularly because of the traveling I do. So you’re safe, Shaye.”
She hadn’t known whether to believe him or not when he’d said he’d never before had unprotected sex. Why with her? Maybe the intensity of her attraction to Dylan wasn’t one-sided. Maybe the feelings for him she’d tried to deny weren’t one-sided, either.
More people were filing into the restaurant now and she felt self-conscious having this conversation here. But she went ahead anyway. “Were you as caught up in the moment as I was? Why didn’t one of us stop?”
“Because we needed each other, Shaye, and that day nothing else was more important than that.”
Need. Desire. Passion. Did they have anything to build on? Should she even consider it?
Timmy began to squirm in her arms. Standing, Dylan came around to her side of the table and held out his hands. “I’ll take him for a while.”
Then Timmy was in Dylan’s arms and Shaye’s were empty. She couldn’t get involved with Dylan Malloy. She couldn’t let him take away her baby.
Somehow she had to convince him that Timmy was better off with her and he should go back to the life he loved.
Chapter Six
“What happens after lunch?” Dylan asked when they’d finished their meal.
Not knowing exactly what Dylan was talking about, she felt flustered and grasped for an easy answer. “I’ll take Timmy home. We might play with a rattle for a bit or turn on his mobile with the music and the lights. Then he’ll take a nap.”
As Dylan frowned, she asked, “What?”
“I want to do something with him. I want to learn to do something with him. Do you know what I mean?”
“He can’t play baseball yet,” she said jokingly. “His pitching arm isn’t quite strong enough.”
When Dylan rolled his eyes, she had to smile. “Life’s pretty simple for Timmy these days. He eats, he sleeps, he gets changed, I give him a bath—”
“There we go,” Dylan announced, leaning back in his chair. “A bath. I could do that.”
She wasn’t so sure he could. Wet and soapy babies were slippery. There was a definite art to bathtime until the babies could sit up by themselves. “It’s not as easy as it might seem.”
“You do it.”
“I’ve had practice.”
“So let me practice.”
She frowned at him, not knowing how to not sound confrontational.
Before she could come up with a tactful response, Dylan leaned forward again, hands on the table, his eyes boring into hers. “I’m going to learn to take care of him, whether I sue for custody or not. He’ll spend time with me. Don’t block my ability to learn.”
Quiet anger ran under the surface of Dylan’s words. Well, maybe it wasn’t anger, just a pure determination to do absolutely everything he could for his nephew.
“I like to bathe him in the evenings,” she admitted. “That gives me something soothing to do if he’s fussy. A bath seems to settle him down for the night, or at least part of it.”
“What time?”
“Between eight and nine, but don’t hold me to that. Why don’t you bring some of yo
ur photographs along.”
His brows arched. “Of anything in particular?”
“Nope. I just want to see your work.”
After he considered that, he decided, “You can help me select the ones of Julia you like best. I’ll grab a sampling of the others. Are you really interested in what I shoot or are you just making nice?”
His wry tone made her laugh. “I’m interested in what you shoot. Julia told me a few stories and I’d like to see the result of trekking in the wilderness for days or sitting on a mountaintop waiting for the perfect shot.”
With a last prolonged look, he said, “I’ll be at your place at eight. I know I’m pushing into your life, Shaye, but it’s necessary right now.”
Necessary for him.
She wanted to give him a deadline for how long this could go on or how quickly he had to make a decision about Timmy’s custody. Yet she knew she couldn’t do that.
What she could do, however, was consult a lawyer. This afternoon she’d call Arthur Standish and make an appointment with the attorney.
When Shaye let Dylan into her town house that evening, he knew she resented his push to be more involved in Timmy’s life. Maybe resent wasn’t the right word. She feared his involvement. From the moment he’d met Shaye, he’d known she was an assertive, determined woman. More importantly, she wanted to be a mother. For those reasons, he couldn’t just request she let him spend time with Timmy. Besides, the baby was his flesh and blood and requesting didn’t have any part in this.
As she’d suggested, he’d brought his photographs. Although Shaye had insisted she was happy in Wild Horse Junction, he wondered if that was a defensive position. She’d been willing to travel to India with a man once, but he hadn’t asked her to join him. Had she convinced herself Wild Horse Junction would be the center of her universe so she didn’t have to take any more risks?
“He’s having a pretty good evening,” she said as she went toward the portable crib.
Timmy was sitting in a sturdy baby carrier within the crib. A toy on the bars was playing music and flashing multicolored lights.
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