The Texan's Little Secret

Home > Romance > The Texan's Little Secret > Page 12
The Texan's Little Secret Page 12

by Barbara White Daille


  Once, she would have confided in him. Not anymore.

  And now this.

  He never should have suggested the ride. He should have argued with her the minute she had insisted on taking the stallion.

  “What happened when you mounted Daredevil?” he asked.

  “I—I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

  That wasn’t good. “Don’t move,” he warned her again. “Just tell me what hurts.”

  “My shoulder.” Her grin looked forced. “But that hurt, anyway.”

  “So much for it coming along. What else?”

  “Nothing that I can feel.”

  That might not be good, either. “Okay, we’ll go slow.” He took her through turning her head, then moving one arm or leg at a time, making sure she had feeling in every limb but no pain. Finally, he eased her to a seated position. “How’s that?”

  “Fine. I don’t hurt at all.”

  “You will later. But at least it seems as though you didn’t break or sprain anything.”

  “Good.” She laughed. “I can just imagine getting stuck in a cast and in a wheelchair, right alongside Daddy.”

  He managed a smile. “If I were you, I wouldn’t laugh just yet. I have a strong suspicion once he hears about this, he’ll get you tied down one way or another.”

  “Then he can’t hear about it.”

  He stared at her. “Are you crazy? That would be more than my life is worth, not to tell him about this.”

  “Then they’ll all be sure I’m as irresponsible as they’ve always believed.”

  “Because you had an accident? I don’t think so.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling him anything.”

  “Wrong. The second I get you home, I’m telling every damned person in that ranch house. You had a bad fall. And you don’t remember it happening.”

  “I do remember it. I just don’t know why Daredevil threw me.”

  “That’s a huge distinction, isn’t it?” he said dryly. “What it boils down to is, you don’t recall what happened. On top of that, you hit your head. And you were out for more than a few seconds.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “So you say. I’m telling your family—”

  “I’ll tell them.”

  “Right.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “This is too important to play games with, Carly. I’ve been through this before. I know what can happen.”

  She shifted, and he helped her to stand. She seemed steady enough on her feet.

  “We’ll take a slow ride back,” he told her. “You’ll let me know if anything starts to hurt. You take Chestnut. I’ve got Daredevil.”

  “I should ride Daredevil. You know what they say when you fall off a horse. You need to get right back in the saddle.”

  “Keep pushing that idea, and you won’t be in a saddle at all. You’ll be wearing out boot leather.”

  She made a face but, without another word, headed toward Chestnut.

  She wouldn’t stay so quiet once she heard what else he had to say.

  He’d best get her back to the barn before he dropped that bombshell.

  Chapter Eleven

  After their ride back home, Luke wanted her to stay at his house for the evening. So he could keep his eye on her for a while, he said. Carly had argued until her tongue felt ready to fall out, but there was no budging him.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” he said finally, “but you could have a concussion. Or worse.”

  The look in his eyes when he’d said those words made her swallow her protests and give in. He was concerned about her. He was also thinking of Jodi. There was no way she could—or would—fight that terrible memory.

  Just as there was no way she could fight all the wonderful memories he must have of his wife.

  Sighing, she shifted on the couch.

  Luke left her there and disappeared down the hallway. A short while later, she had heard the shower running. After her long day, she could have used a shower, too. Wild-child Carly would have marched right down that hallway and joined him.

  She stayed on the couch and tried to distract herself with a magazine from the coffee table, then mindless flips through the television channels.

  He had come back into the living room with his hair still damp and his keys in his hand, on his way to pick up Rosie from his mom’s house.

  Again, she had opted to stay on the couch. Not out of cowardice—or so she told herself. Their ride had made her feel closer to him, and being alone in the house, just the two of them, made her want to get even closer. She’d needed the distance and had insisted she would be fine on her own.

  Her solitude ended when his front door opened and he entered, carrying his daughter.

  “Say hi to Carly, Rosie,” Luke encouraged.

  “Da-da.”

  He laughed. “We’re still working on ‘hello.’ Mom fed her already. She said Rosie’s on the cranky side, though, from the teething. Aren’t you, baby?” He kissed her forehead and set her on the floor beside the huge pile of stuffed animals. “Were you okay while I went to get Rosie?”

  “Fine.” Except for the aches and pains, and the slight headache that had developed while he’d been gone.

  “Keep an eye on Rosie for a minute. I’ll go and get dinner out of the truck.”

  She curled up on the couch, wrapping her arms around her folded legs and looked across the room. The little girl gave her a grin then flopped back into the pile of stuffed toys.

  Carly’s throat tightened.

  Rosie held a stuffed animal out to her.

  Her heart sank. When she had agreed to stay for a while with Luke, she hadn’t thought about having to deal with his daughter. And when he brought the child home, she had hoped he would put Rosie right to bed.

  Instead, Rosie sat there staring at her, her arms fully extended, holding the stuffed elephant by his floppy ears and slamming its head against the floor, over and over again.

  With the way her own head was ringing, Carly felt compassion for the poor toy. She just didn’t want to get near Rosie.

  The front door swung open again. Luke entered carrying a plastic bag in one hand and a pizza box in the other. He set the box on the coffee table. “She wants you to take the elephant,” he explained. “Then she’ll want you to take everything else.”

  She nodded and twined her fingers together in her lap.

  He frowned. “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah. I...uh...don’t have much experience with kids.”

  “What about Alex?”

  Alex was her youngest stepbrother, Julieta’s five-year-old son. “I don’t see him very often.”

  “Well, you’ll need to get in practice, with Lizzie’s baby on the way.” He grinned. “Lucky for you, Rosie will break you in.”

  No, Rosie would break her—if Luke didn’t do it first. Already, with those two short sentences, he had managed to put another crack in her fragile emotions.

  When Luke returned to the living room with a couple of plates and cups and a bottle of pop, he seemed surprised to see her still sitting on the couch.

  Rosie began to babble, her voice rising higher and higher. Would tears follow? Screams? A full-out tantrum?

  Carly didn’t know. She didn’t know anything about kids and didn’t want to learn. Not now. Not here.

  But Luke stood staring at her.

  Rosie’s voice rose another notch.

  “She won’t give up,” Luke told her. “That’s typical, from what I’ve seen. Especially with girls.” He raised his eyebrows, as if making sure she got the message.

  “Very funny.”

  With a sigh, she lowered herself to the floor beside the
couch and crawled the few feet to Rosie.

  Screeching, the little girl slapped the battered elephant into Carly’s lap.

  * * *

  CARLY ATE A couple of slices of the pizza. When Luke had finished polishing off the rest, he moved to sit on the floor beside Rosie. They went through the same routine Carly had done earlier, with Rosie passing every stuffed animal to him and then taking them all back. After that, they moved on to some complicated game that involved building blocks, a plastic fire engine and three dolls.

  Hugging her knees, Carly sat watching them, noticing how unselfconsciously Luke played the games with his daughter, how intently he focused on her, as if he and Rosie were the only ones in the room. How often his eyes lit when he smiled at her.

  Carly’s eyes stung with tears, blurring her vision. She imagined him with another child, one with hair a lighter shade of blond, maybe, and blue eyes instead of brown.

  “Hey,” Luke said softly.

  She froze, her fingertips touching her cheek.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  He must not have noticed her tears. She nodded and, relieved, brushed away the remaining traces.

  “You and Rosie,” he said with a smile.

  She glanced past him. To her surprise, she saw his daughter lay half asleep against the pile of stuffed animals. She had been so caught up in thoughts of Luke, she’d lost track of time. How long had he been watching her before he’d spoken, bringing her back to reality? Maybe she didn’t want to know.

  He scooped Rosie up from the floor, murmuring, “Bedtime for you, my little girl.”

  Lizzie was right. Luke was a good daddy—and the confirmation only made her feel worse.

  This was turning out to be the worst night of her life.

  As soon as he came back, she was out of there. She would go home and, just as they had agreed, would tell Anna about her fall. Better for her to be at the ranch house and under Anna’s care than in this small house with Luke just a few yards away.

  He came back carrying the familiar jar of ointment and a towel. “Rosie’s all tucked in. And now, time to take care of you. Where does it hurt?”

  Reaching desperately for her only defense, she forced a grin. “What would you do if I said ‘all over’?”

  He grinned back at her. “Get ready to have a good time.” He set everything on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch beside her. “But seriously, where?”

  “My neck and shoulder,” she admitted.

  “Nowhere else?”

  “Well...maybe both shoulders.” Everywhere else, she could reach herself.

  “Let’s go, then. I’ll close my eyes till you’re ready.”

  She pulled her shirt over her head but kept her arms in the sleeves, leaving herself more covered than if she wore a bathing suit. Turning her back to him, she drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  In the quiet of the living room, sounds seemed magnified. She heard him exhale a heavy breath. Heard the rattle of the lid as he opened the jar of ointment, the clatter as the lid landed on the coffee table.

  Then his hand was on her shoulder, spreading the pungent ointment that managed to feel cold initially and then warm as he worked it into her skin. His other hand rested on her neck. For a moment, she froze, aware of how vulnerable her position might be...with another man. Not with Luke.

  She trusted him.

  His hands stilled.

  She lowered her chin to her knees.

  After a moment, he continued, caressing her shoulders with both hands, then using his strong thumbs to knead the muscles in her neck. She thought of those hands on her thighs as she’d sat on the fence earlier that day. Her cheeks burning, she rested her face against her knees and gave thanks that she sat facing away from him.

  What seemed like only a moment later, she heard the jar thudding onto the coffee table.

  “Let me go wash up.”

  By the time he returned, she had her T-shirt on again and was sitting with her back braced against the arm of the couch. He took a seat beside her.

  “Just checked on Rosie,” he said. “She woke up some when I put her to bed, but she’s out like a light now.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Carly didn’t know what else to say.

  Her mind might be empty, but her heart felt full, as always weighed down by sorrow and now even heavier with regret.

  This evening with Luke and his little girl had just about done her in. Again, she admitted Lizzie was right. Luke was a good daddy. And more.

  Watching him with Rosie...hearing how he teased his mom...seeing his gentleness with her after the fall from Daredevil...all this made her admit what she had always known.

  Luke Nobel was a good man.

  “What did you mean this afternoon, when you said people believed you played advantages?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say folks thought things came my way too easily.”

  “How could they? You worked so hard. Just because they had money and you didn’t—”

  “I’m not talking about that,” he said. “It had nothing to do with money. It wasn’t wealthy folks putting me down. It was the kids I went to school with. Kids who didn’t have two nickels to rub together most days, either. The guys I called my friends.”

  “That’s awful. Why would they treat you like that?”

  His jaw tightened for a moment, then he said, “I worked damned hard for everything I got. They wouldn’t admit that because they weren’t willing to do the same. They wouldn’t fight like I did for the things I wanted. Good grades. The job at the garage. A scholarship.”

  “You’d gotten a scholarship?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

  “Shocking, huh? Hard to believe about someone like me?”

  “Of course not. I’m just surprised because you never told me about it. You said you’d never gone to college.”

  “I hadn’t, at the time I met you.”

  “But what about the scholarship? Why didn’t you use it?”

  “My mom lost her job at the refinery and couldn’t find work. I added on to my hours at the garage for a while, and that didn’t leave me time for school.”

  She frowned. “But for the ranch manager position, Daddy...”

  “Requires someone with a degree.” He nodded. “Once I started doing well in rodeo, I quit the job. I had enough to take care of Mom and the time to go to school. By the time I retired from rodeo, I also had my degree.”

  With all the tabs she had kept on him, she’d never heard about that. What else didn’t she know about him?

  They sat in silence for a moment. She shifted, resting her hand on the cushion at the back of the couch.

  “What’s the matter? All these true confessions making you uncomfortable?”

  She forced a laugh. “Not a chance. Since you insist on keeping an eye on me here for a while, I’m just settling in. You couldn’t make me uncomfortable if you tried.”

  “Wish you could say the same about Rosie.”

  She froze.

  “Why are you so uptight with her?”

  “I—I told you, I’m just not good around kids.”

  “You know what they say, practice makes perfect.”

  “And obviously, you’ve had a lot of practice.”

  He smiled. “Are you saying I’m perfect?”

  Perfect for me. Once. A long time ago.

  He reached up and covered her hand with his.

  She jumped.

  He nodded, as if confirming a thought. “You’re uptight around me, too. You’re sure I’m not making you uncomfortable?” He’d kept his tone level, with no hint of playfulness or teasing.

  “All right—yes, I’m uncomfortable,” she admitted. “But
not from being with you. From...a lot of reasons. From wishing things were different. Wishing I could take back what I’d said to you.”

  “About me using you to get a job on the ranch.”

  She nodded. “I flew off the handle. For a minute, I honestly thought that’s why you wanted to go out with me. It felt like you’d betrayed me, and when you wouldn’t answer, I thought it was true. I wasn’t thinking straight. And you didn’t deserve what I said.”

  “I can’t blame you for that, because I let my pride get in the way of telling you the truth.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yeah. Applying here at the Roughneck had nothing to do with using you. You didn’t want your daddy knowing we were seeing each other, and just as I told you, I didn’t plan on mentioning your name. To anyone. I only wanted that wrangler job because it would put me closer to you.”

  She swallowed hard. “Oh, Luke. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you trust me?” he asked softly. “That’s what I felt then. I’d worked so hard for everything I’d ever gotten. My friends didn’t believe that. And that day, neither did you.”

  He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, then traced a path with his fingertip from her temple, down her cheek, along her jaw.

  When she sighed, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned against him, resting her forehead against his shirt, suddenly unable to face him. She had been so cruel in the way she had accused him back then. She hadn’t been much nicer to him in these past few days. Another thing he didn’t deserve. “I’m sorry, Luke.”

  He touched her cheek, slipped his hand beneath her chin to tilt her head up and looked into her eyes.

  She tried for a smile. It felt tentative. So did she—until he tightened his free arm around her, holding her even closer, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  She kissed him back with all the enthusiasm of the teenager who had once loved him, all the longing of the woman who had since lost him, all the confused, crazy, mixed-up emotions of the wild child she had to pretend to be.

  She had never loved Luke more, never wanted him more....

  But one apology couldn’t erase the past.

 

‹ Prev