The Cowboy & The Belly Dancer (Heartbeat)

by Charlotte Maclay

  “He didn’t exactly say.”

  “I want you to get dressed and come home with me,” Parker said, his temper rising toward a dangerous peak.

  “Why would I want to do a thing like that?” she asked.

  “Yeah, why?” Roger echoed. He folded his arms across his massive chest.

  “Come on, Nesrin. The kids are asking for you. Amy’s been down in the dumps and Kevin crashed the hard disk on my computer. They need you.”

  “And you want a free baby-sitter? Is that why you want me to return to the ranch?”

  “No, that’s not what I want.” Talking around Roger’s hulking form was like talking around a bulldozer.

  “You said they needed me before I left,” Nesrin reminded him, “and still I went away. What has changed, Parker?”

  “Nothing, dammit! I just don’t want you working in this dive, understand?”

  Roger glared at Parker as though he’d personally affronted the man’s place of employment. Which he had.

  “I have to support myself,” Nesrin said. “In this century women are free to work for a living.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I offered to marry you, didn’t I? The ranch is secure now, thanks to you. Rutherford paid me in full. I’m going to sell off the extra mustangs and expand the ranch with good breeding animals. I’m perfectly willing to take care of you. What more do you want?”

  “When you learn the answer to that question, please let me know.” She turned and vanished behind the closed door of her dressing room.

  “Nesrin! I chased halfway around the world for you. You can’t—”

  “You heard the lady.” Roger planted his mountainous body in Parker’s path. “She’s all done talking, cowboy. Now...clear out.”

  Parker’s jaw clamped down like a tight cork on his temper. He figured he could take this guy, in spite of his size. But what would that get him? If he forced Nesrin to come back to the ranch with him, she’d just leave again. Deep down in his gut he wanted her to come willingly...both back to the ranch and back to his bed.

  “I’ll be back,” Parker warned. “And one of these days we might have to find out just how tough you really are.”

  “It’d be my pleasure, cowboy.”

  * * *

  FIGHTING TEARS, Nesrin hugged herself and leaned back against the closed door of her dressing room. Amy and Kevin did need her. Though Parker was a good man, he was too stern for the children and needed the gentling influence of a woman.

  Louanne had assured Nesrin it would not take Parker long to recognize that he loved her. She hoped that knowledge would come quickly. Already she could feel herself weakening. Soon she would be willing to settle for only a kind word from him instead of the love she sought.

  Perhaps if she were able to see the children regularly she would be able to endure the loneliness more easily. Louanne could arrange that, and the children could keep their visits a secret.

  Then only at night would Nesrin be haunted by memories of Parker’s deep, hungry kisses that no amount of determination seemed to erase.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I‘ll be flying into Colorado Springs tomorrow.”

  Parker’s fingers tightened around the phone and a knot formed in his gut. “That’s fine, Dad. You want me to pick you up?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ve arranged my own transportation.”

  “Okay, then I’ll see you when you get to the ranch.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing the children. We’ll talk tomorrow about the arrangements I’ve made for them.”

  “They’re pretty happy with things right now, sir.” A lot more happy than Parker was at this point.

  After he hung up, Parker speared his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t been able to think straight, not since he discovered a week ago that Nesrin was working in a saloon—her dancing the artistic success of the century, according to the local Gunnison paper. Hell, single-handedly she’d turned the High Mountain Saloon into a cultural mecca. Half the women in town had taken a sudden interest in belly-dancing classes at the local recreation center. It was all the rage.

  As he had every night for the past week, Parker climbed into his truck and drove into town. He sidled up to the bar, drank a beer and watched Nesrin dance, all the time hating that other men were watching her, too.

  Damn their admiration and respect.

  He wanted her to dance only for him. To sway her hips and give him that soft, alluring smile where no one else could see her. And he wanted her back in his bed. Wanted it so much he ached with the need for her.

  He remembered how she’d been that night in the desert. Seductive. Instigating their lovemaking. Taking him to heights of passion he hadn’t imagined possible, and certainly had never experienced with any another woman.

  Then all hell had broken loose the next morning with doves flying everywhere, and he discovered he had a real live genie on his hands. Little wonder he’d felt disoriented.

  What he couldn’t figure was why she had run away from him when they got back to Colorado, and then gone only as far as Gunnison.

  In fact, he’d learned Nesrin was staying at Louanne’s, and his cowhands were sneaking the kids over to visit almost every afternoon. But he hadn’t let on he’d learned their secret.

  So Nesrin still cared about the kids. It was only Parker she didn’t want to be around.

  And that hurt. Down deep in his gut.

  By now he knew her dancing routine by heart, including when she was about to end her number, so before the applause stopped, he beat her to the door leading to her dressing room. He caught her by the arm. Her skin was slick with perspiration. And soft. So soft.

  Unsurprised, she looked up at him with those big brown eyes. “What is it you want, Parker?”

  “You known damn well what I want. For you to come back to the ranch with me.”

  “Why? Has something changed since you asked me last night?”

  “Yeah. I’m another day older.”

  She smiled sadly. “You look tired.” Her fingertips brushed his cheek in a touch so light it was like a wisp of imagination.

  How he ached to feel her touch him like that all over his tired body, stroke him, smooth the weariness from both his muscles and his soul.

  “I’m still breaking horses.” His voice cracked on his desperate need. “I think I spent more time on the ground today than I did in the saddle.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “My father’s coming into town tomorrow.”

  She paled. “Will he take the children?”

  “Not unless he brings an entire army with him.”

  “Miss Nesrin, you want me to show this cowboy to the exit?” Roger planted his bulk protectively next to Nesrin.

  She hesitated for just a heartbeat, long enough for Parker to hope she might have decided to go home with him. Then she shook her head. The strange sadness in her eyes looked as ancient as Parker’s bruised body felt.

  “Mr. Dunlap was just leaving,” she announced in a near whisper. Turning, she walked away, her silk skirt swaying like a colorful rainbow in the dimly lit hallway.

  It would have given Parker a great deal of satisfaction to wipe Roger’s smug expression from his face with a solid punch to his midsection, but he couldn’t get past the sorrow in Nesrin’s eyes.

  Feeling alone, exhausted and confused, he went home, excused Rusty from his nightly baby-sitting duties and went to bed. He tossed and turned the rest of the night. Maybe a man simply wasn’t meant to understand what was going on in the head of a genie.

  She knew he couldn’t offer her love.

  A good home. His protection. But not love. After all, he could hardly give what he had never received.

  And hell, he didn’t care if she was a genie. That shouldn’t have even been an issue.

  But Nesrin thought it was, he realized with a start that made him sit upright in bed, the tangle of blankets around his waist. All she’d asked of him was to accept her
as she was. In response, he’d told her to keep her wizardry a secret.

  No wonder she was mad at him.

  After Parker dealt with his father tomorrow, he’d have another talk with Nesrin. This time, he vowed, she’d come back to the ranch with him.

  * * *

  “KEVIN, PUT ON SOME clean pants,” Parker ordered, confronting his nephew in the upstairs hallway. “And when you do, tuck in your shirt. Those jeans look like Goodwill rejects.”

  “They’re what I wear every day. I don’t see why we have to get all dressed up just because—”

  “Out of respect, that’s why.” Parker turned to Amy. “Where are your shoes, honey?”

  “I can only find one.” She held up a white dressy shoe by the strap. In her frilly dress, she looked ready for Easter. Unfortunately, Parker hadn’t had a chance to comb her hair yet and it was a tousled mess of blond curls. “Besides, these shoes hurt my feet,” she whined. “They’re too small.”

  “They’re fine. Go look in your closet again,” he said. “The other shoe’s got to be there somewhere. I don’t want you wearing tennis shoes with that dress.”

  With a pouty lower lip, Amy stalked away.

  “What’s the big deal?” Kevin protested. “It’s just Grandpa.”

  “Yeah, and the general likes his troops ready for inspection. Did you clean up your room like I told you to?”

  “I suppose.” Jamming his hands into his pockets, Kevin shuffled off toward his room. The tips of his shoelaces clicked on the hardwood floor at every step.

  Parker rolled his eyes. This was going to be a disaster.

  He hated that the need for his father’s approval still had him jumping through hoops. Now the kids were in the thick of it, too. Well, he didn’t care if Kevin didn’t like to wear clean clothes, and Amy had to squeeze her feet into shoes two sizes too small. It was only for the day. And Parker wasn’t about to give his father any ammunition to challenge his guardianship of the kids.

  At the first sound of an approaching car, Parker straightened his spine and went out the door.

  A black limousine with a two-star general’s pendant flying at the fenders pulled to a stop in front of the porch. A staff sergeant climbed out from behind the wheel and came around to open the door for the passenger. The general was in full dress uniform. He placed his cap squarely on his head, tugging the brim to check the fit.

  Parker shook hands with his father, then tipped his head toward the official car. “I thought you’d retired.”

  “Old habits die hard. And there are still some perks.” General Everett Dunlap looked fit and nowhere near his sixty-five years. His back was ramrod straight, his gut tucked in. Only his gray sideburns gave his age away.

  In a single critical sweep, the general scanned the ranch house and the outbuildings. Parker knew what he was seeing—a farmhouse and garden that were run-down, and peeling paint on the barn. With money tight, superficial upkeep hadn’t been his priority. Now it was enough to be debt free—courtesy of Nesrin, he realized—and building his stock. Though it might not look like it at the moment, he was well on his way to making a success of the ranch. His dream was coming true.

  Without the woman who had made it possible.

  Regret sliced through Parker like a steel bayonet.

  The trio of hired hands puttered nonchalantly in the vicinity of the corral, getting an eyeful of the visiting brass.

  “Look’s like your troops could use a little more spit and polish, son,” the general commented.

  Parker bit back a sharp reply. The general’s line of command didn’t extend as far as Rusty and his cohorts.

  “Come on in, Dad. The kids are anxious to see you.”

  “As I am to see them. It’s been a long time.”

  Kevin, still wearing his ratty jeans but with his shirt tucked in, met them at the top of the steps. “Hi, Grandpa.”

  Shaking hands with his grandson, the general looked him over with the same critical eye as he had taken in the run-down ranch. “You’ll do, young man. After a haircut and a little sprucing up, that is.”

  “Kevin likes comfortable clothes,” Parker said, automatically coming to his nephew’s defense.

  The general harrumphed. “I’ve got a prep school in mind where he’ll learn about spit and polish. Yes, sir. Strictly military. A fine record. Nearly ninety percent of their graduates go on to a military academy. They’ll have Kevin primed and ready for West Point in no time at all.”

  Kevin shot a troubled glance at Parker, then back to the general. “I’m not gonna go to West Point, man. No way. I’m gonna go to M.I.T. They’ve got the best robotics program in the whole country.”

  Everett Dunlap let his hands drop to his side and drew himself to rigid attention. “Nonsense, boy. All the Dunlap men since before the Civil War have been West Point graduates. Our duty to God and country have come first. We’ll have no more talk about—”

  “I’m not a Dunlap, sir. I’m a Johnson, just like my dad. He said I could go to any school I wanted.” Kevin lifted his chin proudly, with an added touch of arrogance that comes with youth.

  Parker looped his arm around Kevin’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Kevin’s a pretty smart kid, Dad, and an absolute whiz with computers. I think when the time comes he’ll be able to make the decision about college for himself.”

  Kevin seemed to grow about an inch as he straightened from his usual slouch.

  Meanwhile, the general gave Parker a look as if he were about to order him to clean every latrine in a four-state area—with a toothbrush.

  Years of resentment for that kind of treatment strengthened Parker’s resolve. He wasn’t about to work off any more demerits for his dad. They’d finish with all of that right here on his front porch. Now.

  “Kevin, why don’t you go see what Rusty is up to over at the corral?” Parker said.

  The boy looked up at him. “That means you and Grandpa want to talk grown-up talk, right?”

  “You got it, son.”

  When Kevin was out of earshot, the general said, “Just as well you sent the boy away, because I’m not at all pleased with your attitude. I’m your father and I demand your respect.”

  A shocking realization struck Parker like lightning strikes a mountain peak. “Dad, you’ve never really been my father. You’ve been my commanding officer, and in case you haven’t already guessed, I’m no longer taking orders from you.”

  The general looked nonplussed. “Are you saying I wasn’t a good father?”

  “I’m saying it no longer matters. Marge wanted me to raise her kids if something happened to her, and that’s how it’s going to be. I’ll fight you in every court in the country, if need be, but I won’t let you have them and I won’t let you send Kevin to any school he doesn’t want to go to.”

  The general’s shoulders slumped. Even some of the rigid set to his jaw relaxed. “Do you remember your Grandfather Dunlap?” he asked.

  “Vaguely,” Parker conceded, puzzled by a question that seemed oddly out of context.

  “He was a stern man, even for that day and age. He used to beat me with a cane whenever...” Clearing his throat, General Everett Dunlap took off his gold-braided cap and ran his palm across the stubble of thinning gray hair on his head. His age-spotted hand trembled. “I tried to be a better father than that, son. Never once did I raise my hand to you or your sister. Never once.”

  It had never occurred to Parker that his father had learned to be a parent at the feet of a man who was actually physically abusive—that his father had thought strict discipline without using a cane was an improvement over how he had been raised. In a way, Parker supposed that was true.

  But it was another bit of evidence proving Dunlap men weren’t capable of love.

  That painful thought stuck in his brain in the same way a chicken bone could get lodged in a guy’s throat. He worked at it a minute, trying to dislodge the damn thing, and then he realized it was a lie—one he’d allowed to take over his
subconscious years ago.

  Of course he was capable of love!

  Parker had always loved his sister. And he sure as hell loved Kevin and Amy. The feeling might have crept up on him when he wasn’t looking, but he loved them so much he’d been willing to challenge his father for their guardianship. In fact, for all these years his father’s approval had been important to Parker because he loved his dad. In spite of everything.

  In a swift mental leap of faith, as though a great weight had been lifted from his psyche, Parker realized he was also capable of loving a woman—Nesrin.

  She’d been trying to tell him that all along and he’d been such a knuckleheaded fool he hadn’t been listening. In fact, with her quick smile and her open heart, she was the one who had shown him how to love.

  He sure as hell hoped she hadn’t given up on him yet.

  Parker placed a reassuring hand on his father’s shoulder. “Come on inside, Dad. I’ll get you a beer. I think you and I have a lot of talking to do. Man to man.”

  Amy picked that moment to come running out of the house, her hair bow askew and wearing only one shoe. She launched herself into Parker’s arms. No military machine in the world could have resisted her assault. Certainly not Parker.

  He grinned. He could hardly wait to tell Nesrin how much he loved her.

  * * *

  AS NESRIN DANCED, tears blurred her vision. A week now, and with each passing day it became more and more obvious her dream that Parker could love her was drying to dust like dates left too long on the tree.

  Perhaps she should move away, far enough so that her memories of him would ease with time. She could find a new job, too. Surely there would be a family eager to hire a skilled cook whose specialty was sheep brains mixed with dates.

  She sighed.

  Even as her hands moved in rhythm to the music, and her hips undulated, she imagined she saw Parker take a seat at one of the front tables. She knew that couldn’t be true. He always remained at the bar as he watched her. Silent. Unsmiling. His heart unmoved, turned to stiff leather as though mummified in his chest by a dry, loveless youth.