A Rancher's Honor

by Ann Roth

  She barely had the chance to recover before he moved away from her. “Walk me to the door?”

  He stood, clasped her hands and pulled her up.

  Standing in the little entry, he touched her face and kissed her again. A sweet kiss, tender and filled with promise. “Good night, Lana.”

  “Good night, Sly.”

  After locking the door behind him, she sank against it and hugged herself.

  Good or bad, right or wrong, she was falling in love with Sly Pettit.

  She shouldn’t, and not only because of the lawsuit and her family. Sly cared for her and wanted her, but he wasn’t a relationship kind of man. She would only get hurt. Then there was the baby. For his or her sake, Lana should forget about love and focus on a long-term friendship with Sly that would last.

  Those arguments made a lot of sense, but her heart didn’t care.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Monday morning, Memorial Day, Sly whistled as he met Ace, Bean and Ollie near the barn.

  “You seem happy today,” Ace said with a searching look. “Going to the celebration at Prosperity Park later?”

  Every Memorial Day the town hosted an annual celebration and picnic at the park.

  “Not this year,” Sly said. He was giving his crew half the day off, but there was too much to do at the ranch for him to leave.

  He should have been in a lousy mood for that and several other reasons. Ollie was still here—that was hopeful news—but he half expected the kid to ask for his paycheck and leave town at any moment. Also, Lana was pregnant, and Sly needed sex. Had needed it badly since Saturday night. But instead of going for what he wanted, he’d concentrated on Lana and drawn his own pleasure from hers.

  He was still shaking his head over how good he felt about their whole evening together. So good that not even the prospect of being short one hand could bring him down. “I had a great weekend,” he said.

  The foreman’s eyes lit with curiosity, but he didn’t pry. Not that it’d have made a whit of difference. Sly wasn’t going to talk about Lana.

  “The wife and I went to some friend’s house and played poker Saturday night,” Ace said. “We beat the pants off them—won two whole dollars.” He thwacked his thighs and chuckled.

  Sly grinned. “What are you going to do with all that cash, Ace?”

  “It went into our vacation jar, for that trip to Hawaii my wife wants.”

  Bean shared that he’d attended a country-and-western concert and was headed for a family picnic at the park later.

  Ace glanced at Ollie, who had yet to say much. “How was your weekend, kid? Did you and that gal friend of yours go out dancing Saturday night?”

  “Not this weekend.” Not a hint of a smile crossed Ollie’s face.

  “Trouble in romance land?” Ace asked.

  Ollie kicked at a hard patch of dirt that didn’t budge. “I gotta talk to Sly.”

  “I ain’t stopping you.”

  “Alone.”

  Ace held up both hands, palms out. “Sure, kid. You want to help me with that clogged irrigation pipe, Bean?”

  “I’ll meet you later,” Sly said. When Ace and Bean disappeared from sight, he settled his hands low on his hips and studied his young ranch hand.

  “I talked to Tiff.” Ollie scratched the back of his neck.

  “Good man. What did you two decide?”

  “I guess I’ll stick around for a while—if you haven’t hired my replacement.”

  “I haven’t.”

  Ollie nodded. It was obvious that he was finished talking.

  Sly clapped his shoulder. “Let’s get to work, then.”

  * * *

  SITTING IN THE crowded waiting room of the medical clinic, Lana thumbed through a parents’ magazine. There were several interesting-looking articles she wanted to read, but at the moment she was too distracted.

  It was almost time for her appointment, and there was no sign of Sly. Saturday night he’d stopped by with takeout. Technically it hadn’t been a date. Over dinner, Lana had reminded him about this appointment. After the meal she’d let him kiss her...and more. Let him? She’d made the first move. They’d stopped short of making love—she wasn’t ready for that. But whenever she thought about the things she and Sly did—and she thought about them constantly—her insides went hot and soft.

  Her heart was full to bursting with feelings for him. Risky, but there it was.

  He didn’t care as deeply for her as she did for him and probably never would, but it was obvious that he did care. And he wanted to be involved in their child’s life. No matter what her own heart wanted, that was the most important thing.

  Once her parents knew about the baby, she could relax. Not that telling them would change anything. Their strong belief that family loyalty stood above all else wouldn’t allow them to accept Sly.

  There was only one way around that obstacle. The lawsuit had to end in a way that worked for both Sly and her cousin.

  As if that would ever happen.

  The elevator chimed and she swung her head around. Sly exited the car. In faded jeans, cowboy boots and a chambray shirt rolled up at the cuffs, he was tall, handsome and all cowboy. As he entered the waiting room with his graceful, long-legged stride, men and women stared openly at him.

  He spotted Lana, nodded and held her gaze. Her heart lifted and she forgot about her family, the lawsuit and everything else. Oh, she had it bad.

  Just as he reached her, the receptionist called her name. “Lana Carpenter.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Lana replied without taking her eyes from Sly. “You made it,” she said.

  “Sorry to cut it so tight. I got a flat on the way here. I would have called, only I was charging my cell phone and accidentally left it at home.”

  They made their way to an exam room. A friendly nurse named Janet led Lana to the scale and weighed her, then jotted notes on her chart. “You gained a pound since last month. Way to go.”

  Sly raised his eyebrows at that.

  “We like our patients to gain thirty to forty pounds over the pregnancy,” Janet explained. “Two to four pounds the first trimester is ideal.” She led them to an exam room, where she took Lana’s pulse and blood pressure. “Everything appears normal. Dr. Valentine will be in shortly.”

  “How are you feeling today?” Sly asked when the nurse left.

  “I was a little queasy this morning, but I’m fine now. How about you?”

  “I’m doin’ okay.” His gaze flitted over her blouse and pants before his eyes narrowed on her legs. “What’s that on your knee?”

  Lana shook her head at a blob of dried paste on her leg, then wet her finger and rubbed at the spot. “We did an art project this morning. It must have—”

  The knock at the door wiped the rest of her sentence from her mind. Dr. Valentine entered in her usual white lab coat and low-heeled pumps. Lana liked her doctor, who was a few years older than she was, smart and friendly.

  She smiled. “Dr. Valentine, this is Sly—the baby’s father.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sly.”

  They shook hands before the ob-gyn turned to Lana. “You had your physical last month. This appointment you get to hear the fetal heartbeat.”

  “I can hardly wait!” Lana stole a glance at Sly. He didn’t seem nearly as thrilled but he was here. That counted for something.

  Dr. Valentine smiled. “This is an exciting time. Hop onto the exam table and we’ll have a listen.”

  As soon as Lana lay down, the doctor lifted her top and positioned the sound device over her stomach. Lana heard a whooshing noise. “Is that it?”

  “Not yet.” Sure hands moved the device slowly over Lana’s abdomen. “Right now, your baby is about the size of a tadpole, so it can be hard t
o find. Ah, here we are.”

  A rapid thump-thump-thump filled the room. “You’re hearing your baby’s heartbeat.”

  Overcome with emotion, Lana reached for Sly’s hand.

  He grasped on, a concerned expression on his face. “That sounds too fast.”

  “Not at all,” Dr. Valentine assured him. “At this stage, one hundred and sixty beats per minute is normal for a fetus.”

  “Good to know.” He blew out a relieved breath and squeezed Lana’s hand.

  For the first time ever, they were listening to their baby’s heartbeat, sharing the awesome, unforgettable moment together. A look passed between them, understood only by the two of them.

  “Do either of you have questions?” Dr. Valentine asked when she finished the exam.

  Sly had a few that she answered before she reached for the door. “Nice meeting you, Sly. I’ll see you again in a month, Lana. Be sure to stop at the front desk and schedule your appointment.”

  When they were alone in the little room, Sly grabbed for Lana’s hand again and cleared his throat. “Now it’s real.”

  The wonder on his face and the tender huskiness of his voice meant more than Lana could say.

  Something had shifted in him, and she was now certain that he was 100 percent on board with the baby.

  She realized then that she loved him.

  * * *

  AS SLY AND Lana headed into the parking garage, feelings he didn’t understand crowded his chest. Feelings that scared him, but were too powerful to push away.

  Time to cut and run.

  He opened his mouth to say he needed to get back to work, but something else came out instead. “I’d like to show you my ranch.”

  Astounded at himself, he shut his mouth. His home was his private refuge, the place where he could let go and be himself. Over the years a few women he’d dated had come to the ranch—at their own invitation, not his. But this was different. Lana was carrying his child. She ought to see the ranch.

  While he was reeling from the implications of his offer, Lana dazzled him with a smile that almost brought him to his knees.

  “I’d love to get the tour,” she said. “Just tell me when.”

  Sly glanced at his watch. It was just after five. Mrs. Rutland would be on her way home and his men should be finished with the afternoon chores and relaxing in their trailers for the evening. Sly didn’t want anyone who worked with him catching sight of Lana and getting ideas.

  “Now works,” he said. He’d quickly show her around, then send her on her way. “Why don’t you follow me in your car.”

  “Okay. But I should warn you that I haven’t eaten in several hours, and this baby likes for me to stay well fed.” Laughing softly, she laid her palm over her belly. “I’m going to need food pretty soon.”

  Her laughter was contagious, and Sly chuckled. “Not a problem. My housekeeper makes dinner before she leaves for the day. It should be ready to heat up.”

  What the hell? Had he really just invited her to dinner?

  “You have a cook? Lucky you.”

  “She cleans, too, and don’t I know how lucky I am. Mrs. Rutland is the best.”

  Lana’s happy expression faded. “There is one little problem—you live next door to Cousin Tim.”

  Sly frowned. “Have you ever been to the Lazy C Ranch?”

  “Not since I was thirteen and my cousin was a newlywed.”

  “Tim used to be married?”

  “Not for long. About six months into the marriage, his wife filed for divorce and left him.”

  Sly hadn’t been aware of that, but it explained a few things. Such as why his neighbor seemed mad at the world. Or maybe the guy had been born that way.

  “Then you know that his spread is five hundred acres,” he went on. “Mine is almost double that, and a fair amount of land separates our houses. You aren’t likely to run into your cousin.”

  Lana still appeared worried. Sly figured she was having second thoughts about going to his place. Which should have been a relief but wasn’t. Oddly disappointed, he shrugged. “Look, if you’d rather not...”

  “No, Sly. I want to see it.”

  He nodded. “Then follow me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  As Sly turned at the black-and-white Pettit Ranch sign and rolled up the long, gravel driveway, satisfaction filled him. He’d spent a decade building his ranch into what it was today. From the freshly painted barn and outbuildings to the rolling pastures dotted with grazing cattle and horses, he was proud of it all.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. Lana trailed close behind him. He wondered if she was impressed. In a few minutes he would find out.

  Just beyond the barn he signaled for her benefit, pulled over and braked to a stop. Standing beside his truck, he waited for her.

  It was that magical time of day when the very air seemed bathed in oranges and pinks. Moving toward him, Lana looked unbelievably beautiful, like some woman in a painting at sunset.

  Desire and those feelings Sly didn’t comprehend steamrollered him. He swallowed hard. And wanted Lana gone. The sooner, the better. When she left, he would find something physically demanding to mellow him out and knock sense into his Lana-crazed brain.

  “This is my ranch,” he said.

  If she heard any brusqueness in his voice, she didn’t let on. Wide-eyed, she took it all in. “It’s huge, Sly, and beautiful—exactly what I imagine the perfect ranch to be.”

  His chest swelled. “Come on, I’ll show you around before I put dinner in the oven.”

  Lana was full of questions. As Sly answered them and explained how he ran his operation, he relaxed.

  Some twenty minutes later, her stomach growled. With a sheepish look, she placed her hand over her belly. “Oops.”

  Sly chuckled. “I’ll heat up dinner.”

  He followed her up the front steps to the veranda that spanned the entire width of the house.

  “What a great porch, and that love seat seems cozy,” Lana said. “I want to curl up there with a good book.”

  Sly nodded. “It’s a swing, too, and one of my favorite places to sit in the evening, after the chores are done.”

  Lately he’d sat out here a lot at night, working on just how he was going to fit his kid into his life without screwing up.

  Lana glanced upward. “This house is huge—at least twice the size of my town house.”

  Too big for one person, but Sly had had nothing to do with that. “The people I bought it from had three kids. I guess they needed the room.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “The bank was getting ready to foreclose on the property, and they wanted out.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Ranching isn’t easy, and they were relieved to trade this life for one in the city. Last I heard, they were doing okay.” He opened the front door and gestured Lana inside.

  As she stepped into the vestibule, Sly couldn’t help but picture her and their child here, filling the house with noise and laughter.

  That stopped him. No way, no how. He enjoyed living alone.

  Cursing himself for inviting Lana over, he turned away from her questioning gaze. “This way,” he said with a curt nod.

  She fell into step beside him.

  “I envy you all the space in here,” she said as she entered the kitchen.

  It was big, all right, with room enough for a small horde. Usually Sly and Mrs. Rutland were the only ones in here, with periodic visits from Dani and an occasional crew member.

  Having Lana in here felt...different. Felt right. Frowning, Sly switched on the oven.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  Go home, he thought, before I do something we’ll both regret. But it w
as too late for that. She’d already agreed to eat with him.

  She gave him one of the smiles that erased his common sense. Hell, who was he kidding? As bad an idea as bringing her to the ranch was, he definitely wanted her here. He wanted her, period.

  “Sly?” Lana was shooting him a funny look. “I asked if there’s something I can do to help with dinner.”

  “How about setting the table.”

  After Lana washed her hands, he showed her where to find the place mats and utensils.

  As she bent down to arrange them out on the table, she kicked the ordinary task to a whole new level of hot.

  He really was losing it. Tired of his one-track mind, Sly grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. “While dinner heats, I’ll give you the five-cent house tour.”

  He showed her the main floor—living room, den, dining and powder rooms.

  “All the bedrooms are upstairs?” she asked.

  “That’s right—all four of them.”

  Her sudden, telltale blush revealed that she was thinking about all the beds in those rooms, just as he was. But inviting her, or any woman, to bed at his house was off-limits.

  And yet he considered breaking his rule just this once, and giving her a hands-on tour of his king-size bed.

  The oven buzzed and Sly jerked his thoughts back to the here and now. His brain heaved a relieved sigh, but his body wasn’t happy.

  The sooner Lana left, the better.

  “Time to eat,” he said, and they returned to the kitchen.

  * * *

  SLY DIDN’T SAY much as Lana sat down at his kitchen table. Without so much as a “help yourself,” he silently passed her a steaming casserole that smelled amazing.

  He seemed ill at ease, but so was she. For some reason, sharing the evening meal at his ranch table felt like a big step.

  Too big for a man who wasn’t into relationships.

  Plus, whether he wanted to be or not, they were on the verge of the relationship of their lives—parenting their child. It would be a huge change they both needed time to adjust to.

  Wanting to ease the tension, Lana smiled. “This is delicious. Please thank your housekeeper for me.”