Earlier that morning, Brock had mentioned Julieta planned to come back to the ranch to pick up some paperwork she needed from him. Instead, Carly had jumped at the opportunity to hand deliver the file. Normally, she would grab whatever chance she could to get out of the city—Dallas, Houston, any big city—but today, she would have done anything to get relief from the constant tension she felt at the Roughneck.
The teenage rebellion leading her to school in Houston had turned into the first step in her search to find where she might truly belong. That plan had backfired. Big-time. Her heart wasn’t in Houston. She wasn’t meant to be a city girl, though she managed to act like one.
And wasn’t that her specialty—putting on an act?
As she waited for the elevator that would sweep her up to the corporate headquarters of Baron Energies, she attempted to figure out just how her return to the ranch she loved had gone so wrong.
She stayed with Brock for hours every day, teasing him out of his crankiness and catering to his every whim. Well...until she couldn’t take it anymore. Then, she would insist on a break and head over to the Peach Pit. For a week now, she had filled in for her sister.
Before the newlyweds had departed for California, she had managed, casually, to gain another vital piece of information from Savannah about Luke’s habit on Fridays. When he stopped in at the Peach Pit to pick up a pie, he never arrived until he was officially “off the clock”—though, of course, technically, he was never off duty. His job as ranch manager kept him on call 24/7.
Carly had thought the inside info would keep her path from crossing with his. She would just make sure to stay well away from the store at that time on that day.
Yet, in the week since Luke had come to pick up his pie...and had kissed her...he’d managed to catch her there every single evening.
Savannah couldn’t have deliberately misled her about his schedule.
As Carly stepped into the elevator, a memory hit. She groaned, recalling her sister’s comment about how well she and Luke seemed to get along. Had Savannah fibbed about Luke’s habits to lure her into a sense of security? Had she wanted Carly to show up at the store, where she would be a sitting duck whenever Luke happened by?
Or...
Was Savannah telling the truth? And had Luke only taken to stopping in so often now because he knew he’d find her there?
A rush of pleasure shot through her at the thought. Ruthlessly, she squashed it. For days now, she’d battled another sensation, one that didn’t please her at all—the certainty that she couldn’t make a move on the ranch without fear of running into him.
The penned-in feeling had her primed to scream. Every memory of their kiss left her shaken.
Any way she looked at it, this had been one heck of a week.
She rode the elevators up to the office and stepped into the sleek, chrome-and-glass reception area.
Lizzie stood near the front desk, looking trim and professional in her maternity wear, a dark-blue suit with an unstructured jacket and a soft, white blouse. The clothing didn’t call attention to her pregnancy, but didn’t attempt to hide it, either.
Beside Lizzie stood a tall woman with long blond hair who also looked trim and professional in her non-maternity-wear suit.
“Carly!” Lizzie looked surprised but thrilled to see her. “What brings you here?”
“Courier duty.” She held up the envelope she had brought from the Roughneck. “For Julieta.”
“I didn’t know you were delivering the file, but that’s great, thanks.” Lizzie looked at the other woman. “J.C., this is my sister Carly Baron. Carly, meet J. C. Marks. J.C.’s applying for an engineer position with us.”
“Nice to meet you,” J.C. said to Carly. She turned to Lizzie and shook hands. “Thanks so much for your time this morning.”
“Yours, too,” Lizzie said. “We’ll be in touch once we’ve finished the first round of interviews.”
The woman rang for the elevator. After leaving the file for the receptionist to give to Julieta, Lizzie took Carly by the arm. “I’m not letting you get away. Come on, let’s go back to my office.”
They went down the wide hallway toward the large room Lizzie occupied. She asked her assistant to hold all calls, then escorted Carly into the office and closed the door behind them.
Lizzie took a seat on a small leather couch and propped her legs up on it with a sigh. “I gave J.C. a tour of the office, and my feet are saying that wasn’t such a good idea.”
“You ought to give up those heels for a while.”
“Or buy bigger shoes.” Lizzie smiled. “I need to keep looking as professional as I can. When you’re surrounded by the old boy’s network, it’s a double disadvantage to be a pregnant female.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. Daddy wouldn’t have put you in charge while he was gone if he didn’t trust you could do the job.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sweetie.” Lizzie’s eyes gleamed. “Have a seat. It’s been a while since you’ve dropped by the office. And now that you’re here, can I talk you into applying for a position with the Baron family?”
Carly froze as an image flashed into her mind: Luke, in threadbare jeans but a brand-new shirt, showing up at the Roughneck to apply for a wrangler’s position.
“Carly?”
Seeing Lizzie eyeing her, she forced a smile. “You know better. I wouldn’t fit in here at all.”
“You could, you know,” Lizzie said softly. “Daddy would have a job created for you.”
“That’s just what I don’t want. I want to succeed on my own.” To be the best at something. And, as Luke had remembered after all these years, to find out where she belonged.
After finishing school in Houston, she had stayed on, gotten an apartment, tried one job and then another until landing the sales position she now held. A position she’d taken a leave of absence from for an unspecified length of time. None of this provided the solution she wanted. None of it satisfied her. Maybe nothing ever would.
Even the thrill of bull riding had already started to wane.
She took a seat on the chair nearest the couch. “Your situation is different, Lizzie. You’re perfect for the company. You always have been. I’d be such an odd fit, Daddy would have to tailor-make a job for me, just to give me something to do.”
Lizzie shifted on the couch, pulling the white blouse down over her rounded belly.
Carly linked her fingers together in her lap. “Enough about that idea. How’s...how are you feeling?”
“Fine. Just tired. I’m not used to carrying all this extra weight.”
“You’re lucky you don’t live at home anymore. Anna would be feeding you double portions of everything.”
Lizzie laughed. “I know. She tries that whenever Chris and I are at the ranch for dinner.”
“Well, regardless, you two ought to stop by again soon.”
“Is Daddy driving you crazy? Or have you got someone else distracting you these days, too?”
Carly’s fingers clamped together. “What are you talking about?”
“Savannah and I were catching up before she left—”
“Gossiping, you mean?”
“Let’s say, having a sisterly chat.” Lizzie laughed. “She seems to think you and Luke have hit it off. And after what I saw at the barbecue, I couldn’t disagree.”
“We didn’t do anything.” Carly’s cheeks heated. “I mean, we didn’t hit it off. I’m...friendly...with everyone on the ranch. You get along with all the company employees, don’t you?”
“True.” Lizzie smiled. “But getting to know Luke wouldn’t be a bad thing. He’s such a nice guy. And he’s doing a fabulous job raising his daughter. It’s not easy being a single parent.”
“Yeah.” Carly almost choked on the w
ord. After a long silence, she said, “You’ll be able to take good care of your baby, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Lizzie’s forehead wrinkled in a frown.
“What would you have done if you and Chris hadn’t decided to get married?”
Lizzie rested her hand on her stomach. “Brought up the baby on my own. Carly, what’s wrong? For a while now, I’ve had the feeling there’s something bothering you. Can we talk about it?”
At the concern in Lizzie’s voice, guilt gnawed at her. Shifting the conversation to Lizzie had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. But she’d needed the diversion because she didn’t want to talk about or think about or envision Luke.
And because she desperately wanted answers to questions that had shadowed her life for years.
She walked to the wall of windows and stood looking at Lizzie’s view of the downtown Dallas skyline. “I’ve just been thinking a lot about what you said about Mom a couple of months ago. And what you didn’t say. And I’ve been trying to put the pieces together. She had postpartum depression, didn’t she?”
“I think so.”
“And I didn’t know.”
“It makes sense that you wouldn’t. You were so young when she left. I didn’t know myself until I thought of some of the memories I had of her and did some reading on the subject.”
“Are you worried you might have it, too, after the baby comes?”
“I’m not thinking that far ahead. But if I do suffer from it, I won’t keep it to myself. And,” Lizzie added, “you and Chris and everyone will help me get through it.”
She turned to face Lizzie. “Of course we will.” She hesitated, then said, “I never told anyone, but when I was away at college my first year, I had an issue with depression.”
“Carly.” Lizzie began to lower her feet.
“No, stay there.” She returned to her chair.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Or Savannah?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wanted to tough it out myself, I guess. It’s okay, I got through it. It’s just that the experience, and then thinking about Mom...that makes me relate to her. Makes me want to talk to her and ask if that’s why she left us.”
Lizzie covered Carly’s fingers with hers. “I wish we knew, too, sweetie. But after all these years, I’m not sure how much luck we’d have trying to track her down.”
Not much.
She couldn’t say that. She couldn’t break Savannah’s confidence.
“I tell myself,” Lizzie added, “we all just need to keep looking forward.”
Right.
First Luke. Now Lizzie. Both with the same thought. Yet she couldn’t keep from focusing on the past.
Maybe because she was the only one to have a secret hidden there.
Which was where it would have to stay.
She couldn’t share her history with Lizzie, now so happily pregnant. She couldn’t talk to Savannah. She couldn’t tell anyone in the family about the baby she had carried.
The baby she had lost.
She couldn’t reveal her secret to anyone at all.
Not when she had never told Luke.
* * *
AFTER HIS SHOWER, Luke looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath. Time to go beard the lioness who’d made herself at home in his den. Otherwise known as his mother.
Trying to get away with something with Tammy around was always tough. Trying to get Rosie away from her was nigh-on impossible. But he’d give both his best shot.
He found Tammy on the floor in the living room, patiently taking one stuffed animal after another from Rosie and adding it to the growing pile beside her. He knew that game. As soon as Rosie had handed over the last stuffed toy, she would demand them all back again.
“Mom, I think I’ll give you a break from animal grab and take this little girl off your hands for a while.”
Tammy looked up, her head cocked and her eyes narrowed. “And just what are you up to?”
“Nothing.” At the sound of his voice, Rosie had turned to reach up to him. Smiling, he lifted her into his arms. “Can’t I go off with one of my best girls without the other one getting curious?”
Tammy laughed. “Curiosity has nothing to do with it. Confirming my suspicions, is more like it. Why would you need a two-year-old along just to pick up some dessert?”
He frowned. “Who said that’s where I’m going?”
“Your truck’s been spotted outside the Peach Pit more than once this week. I never knew you to have such a sweet tooth.”
“Maybe I’ve had a hankering for a homemade pecan roll lately.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s not all, so I hear.”
“What does that mean?”
“Carly Baron’s working at the store while Savannah’s away.”
“Yeah, so?” Hands flat, fingers spread wide, Rosie smacked his cheeks. Knowing what she wanted, he took a deep breath and held it. She shrieked and smacked him again, and he directed his puff of breath toward her forehead, ruffling her blond curls. She giggled.
“So...why didn’t you just come right out and tell me you wanted to go over there?”
He lowered himself onto a chair and set Rosie on his knee. She watched, waiting for him to puff up his cheeks so she could smack them again. He obliged. “Because,” he said over his daughter’s shrieks, “if I told you, you’d give me the third degree. The way you are now.”
Her laughter mixed with Rosie’s. “I haven’t even begun yet, and you know it.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a rueful smile. Growing up without a dad had made him and his mom close. Had made him respect her for all she had accomplished on her own and made him love her for all she had sacrificed. But that didn’t mean he liked sitting still for her questions.
He liked even less the idea that someone ran to her telling tales about him. Especially when they involved Brock Baron’s little girl. “Where are you getting your info?”
“Anna’s been keeping an eye on the store, since she knows Gina’s working alone. She happened to mention seeing your truck. Anything wrong with that?”
That depended on where else the woman “happened to mention” her news. He’d heard nothing from any quarter. Until now.
“Does it need to be a big secret, Luke? If you want to see Carly, what’s the harm?”
Besides the fact she was always going to be Brock Baron’s little girl and he was always going to be the kid from the poor side of town?
He couldn’t—wouldn’t—say that. His mom had done so much for him, but he was beyond the stage where she could make things all better. Some things she couldn’t control. Neither could he. He just had to live with them.
Like the days he had spent in school, dealing with some of his friends. The so-called friends who had turned traitor on him, accusing him of cheating his way to success, instead of accepting that he’d worked for it. And like the day that Carly had accused him of using her for the same reason.
He couldn’t share that with his mother, either. He had never told her any of it. But there was one thing he could say now.
“I’m not seeing Carly, Mom. Not the way you mean.”
“And what would be wrong with it, if you were?” She smiled and reached up to tug on Rosie’s soft shoe. “This little one’s getting to be a big girl. She needs a mama.”
“She’s got you.”
“I’m Gramma, sweetheart, not Mommy. And you need someone, too.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Are you? I’ve never said a word to you before this, and I wouldn’t now, if I didn’t know you were done grieving for Jodi. And it’s been two years. There’s no disloyalty to her if we all have to move on.”
Rosie squirmed, and he stood. “This girl and I
are moving on right now.”
Tammy sighed. “I’m not pushing you, sweetheart. I just want you and Rosie to be happy. You know that.”
“I do.”
As he buckled Rosie into her carrier in the truck, he thought about his mother’s final words.
She wouldn’t push him.
Maybe he ought to be pushing himself.
He had come to terms with Jodi’s death, had finally learned to accept it. Along the way, his life had fallen into a rhythm. A familiar pattern. Work and ranching and wranglers, home and Rosie and his mom.
He couldn’t give all that up for just any relationship—especially not one that hadn’t lasted the first time around.
Once a bull had thrown you, you were out of the running. Done.
If you were lucky, you walked away in one piece. But you’d always come back to try again.
If you knew what you wanted, that was. If you truly had your eye on the prize. If nothing could stop you from proving you were just as good as the next man...
Chapter Ten
A few minutes later, Luke pulled up in front of the Peach Pit.
The boss had been on his case again, and Luke had spent the past several days listening to Carly’s halfhearted assurances that she would go to the arena with him. Soon.
Her excuses about needing to help out at the store made him back off, but they weren’t going to satisfy Brock forever. He’d made it clear, much as he didn’t want Carly riding bulls, he also didn’t want her leaving the ranch without having gotten some instruction from Luke.
“Today, Rosie,” he said as he parked the truck, “we’re not taking empty promises for an answer.” He unbuckled the restraint on her carrier in the backseat. “Either her shoulder hurts too much and needs some attention, or her shoulder’s healed, and I need to follow through on the assignment the boss gave me. Right?”
“Da.” She slammed her hand on the side of the carrier.
“Right.”
He kissed her petal-soft cheek, then nuzzled it with his nose, knowing she would laugh. And she did. Life for Rosie Nobel was just one big bowl of cherries.
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