Rodeo Baby

by Mary Sullivan

  They returned to the living room where Travis watched Chelsea chat and play with Tori. Sam held his breath.

  Finally, Travis said, “We need to get out to finish up today’s chores.”

  Today? The guy wanted him to start work now?

  “Sure,” he said, wondering what finishing up chores meant.

  “Bring your suitcase with you.”

  Apparently Chelsea made a good ambassador. Travis must think that a man who could raise a great kid like Chelsea wouldn’t harm his children.

  Sam retrieved his luggage from the front foyer. On his way to follow Travis, he passed the kitchen.

  Violet came spinning out of the room with the baby in her arms, singing something silly. She ran smack-dab into Sam. Instinctively, he dropped his suitcase and caught her before she fell.

  A switch of electricity jolted him.

  One of his arms snapped across her back while the other held one of her nicely rounded hips. Her curves a perfect temptation, she fit in his arms perfectly.

  The sexy uptilt of black liner at the corners of her wide violet eyes made them look even larger and more striking. Sam was speechless for once in his life, and it seemed Violet was the same.

  They stared, her coffee-scented breath fanning his face.

  If he leaned close, he could place his mouth on the rapidly beating pulse throbbing in her neck.

  He wanted to. Oh, yes.

  Up close, her skin even more porcelain than he thought possible, the urge to kiss her flooded him.

  Holy! She packed a punch.

  A squirming bundle interrupted all of the warm sensations. He’d forgotten about the baby.

  This woman rattled his brain.

  Sam released Violet reluctantly.

  Shaken, he joined Travis.

  Travis pointed to a small bedroom at the back of the house across from what looked like a mudroom and laundry room.

  “We have a bedroom upstairs for Chelsea,” Travis said.

  So Sam had been relegated to a spot far away from the rest of the family upstairs. It made perfect sense. In Trav­is’s shoes, Sam would do the same thing.

  “There’s a washroom you can use on the far side of the kitchen. There’s no bath, but there is a shower stall.”

  Sam nodded. “Good.”

  “We need to get to those chores,” Travis said.

  They stepped outside through a back door. Sam sensed Violet following but she stopped in the screened-in porch and stayed there. Travis continued across a yard to a barn out back where a couple of horses munched on hay.

  Sam felt Violet’s gaze boring into his back.

  “Half of the herd won’t be delivered until tomorrow, but let’s put the horses to bed for the night.”

  “What does that entail?” Sam could have bitten his own tongue. A cowboy would know that. “I mean, what are your systems here?”

  Systems? Cowboys didn’t talk about systems. Get your head out of business mode, Sam, and into ranching mode or you’ll find yourself in deep shit.

  Travis handed him a pitchfork. “Clear out their manure,” Travis said, handing the tool to Sam. “We’ll leave them with fresh bedding for the night.”

  Great. Shoveling manure. His worst nightmare. Back home, he had people to take care of his horse and Chelsea’s pony. He knew what had to be done, but he’d never had to clean up after their horses in his whole life. What was he doing here in the back of beyond pretending to be something so far from his normal, sane self?

  Gramps. Keep Gramps in mind and you’ll get through this.

  Drifting from the screened-in porch at the back of the house came a husky feminine laugh that could only belong to Violet. Probably laughing at his expense.

  He glanced out of the open barn doors. Yep. She could see him. And his pitchfork. She knew exactly what his chore was.

  * * *

  “WHAT ARE YOU laughing at?” Rachel had come up beside Vy.

  Vy averted her eyes away from Rachel. Her friend could read her too easily and she really didn’t want Rachel to detect Vy’s arousal after that encounter with Sam. Surely she would note her fast-beating pulse and her widened pupils. Weren’t those signs of sexual attraction?

  If Vy’s pupils weren’t dilated after having those long fingers on her body, she’d commit herself to a nunnery.

  Sam delivered a feverish carnal impact simply by touching her hip and back.

  For a moment, she’d thought he actually meant to kiss her and, in that unguarded instant, she would have welcomed it.

  Stranger or not, and clearly a liar, Sam pulled her in. She’d wanted that kiss...and that angered her.

  Self-defense kicking in gangbusters, she stood out here laughing at the man so she wouldn’t march into the stable, haul him into a stall and have her way with him.

  And wasn’t that just the most ridiculous thing?

  “Travis has Sam shoveling manure,” she said, voice hard-edged so Rachel wouldn’t realize how Sam’s touch unnerved Vy.

  “You’re mean.” Rachel softened the sentiment with a laugh. “Who knows? He might turn out to be all right with a little experience.”

  “What did you think of him?”

  “He isn’t being completely honest, of course. That man isn’t a cowboy. Obviously.” Rachel took the baby from Vy and settled her on her shoulder. “Here’s the thing, though. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think he’s evil or bad. Look at the way his daughter dealt with Tori. She could have just brushed her off, but she played with her. She’s in the living room painting her toenails, for gosh sake. That man is a good father.”

  “I like the girl. I’m withholding judgment on the father. Why is he here?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

  Travis approached the back porch with a frown marring his handsome brow.

  He opened the door. “What’s going on?” He directed the question toward Vy. “Why did you send me someone who’s never held a pitchfork in his life?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I should have explained the whole story. Vy thinks that man’s here for some nefarious purpose.”

  Travis swung his bright baby blues between Rachel and Vy. “So you sent him out to live in my house, with my family?”

  It did look bad. “I don’t think he’s dangerous. God. I’d never do that to you and Rach.”

  “Then why is he here?” He turned to Rachel. “And why did you allow it?”

  Vy answered. “Because he’s a fraud and I want to see him get his just deserts.”

  “Why? Do you know him from somewhere else?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never met him before in my life.”

  “Then why are you so intent on making a fool out of him? You have any idea how hard that is on a person?”

  Yes, she did. She’d made a fool of herself just a few minutes ago turning all moony and big eyed in Sam’s embrace.

  She bypassed the issue and said, “I don’t sense any harm in him.”

  “Vy, neither do I, but I want to know what’s going on.”

  “I can’t explain. I would if I could. Can I just ask you to go along? Please?”

  “I’ll keep him on but I don’t like laughing at people behind their backs. It doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Okay. I’ll try to be more careful.”

  Travis left to return to the stable.

  “He’s right,” Rachel said. “We shouldn’t be so gleeful about embarrassing a stranger.”

  “I’ll take on that role completely on my own. Travis can be mad at me instead of with you.”

  She straightened away from the porch post.

  “I should get back to the diner.”

  They walked thro
ugh the house where the two girls giggled while Chelsea painted Tori’s fingernails. At her car, Vy threw her arms around Rachel and the baby. “Love you to bits, Rach. Thanks for doing this.”

  Vy stared at the poor trailer across the road, abandoned and forlorn in the cold March afternoon.

  “I’m glad you got out of that thing.” Her fervent whisper had her friend staring at her. Vy ignored Rachel’s regard.

  Rachel wouldn’t let it go, though. “What happened, Vy? All of those years ago?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s ancient history.” She opened her car door but didn’t get in. “Do you ever wonder why we’re such good friends?”

  “Because we love each other?”

  “Yes, but why?”

  Rachel looked a bit lost.

  “Because of our histories,” Vy said. “I mean, they aren’t exactly the same, but parts of them are. We get each other, Rachel.”

  “True. We couldn’t be closer if we were related.”

  “Like it is with Nadine and Honey and Max, too. We have these weird commonalities in our pasts. You’re right about being related, as if we’re drawn together like sisters.”

  Vy had given it a lot of thought. It was more than their pasts. They were all distinctly different, yet big parts of their personalities intersected.

  They gave so much of themselves to others. Like with the fair. They busted their butts to bring it back to save the town. They’d made personal sacrifices. They gave from their hearts. Sometimes Vy wondered if they shared too much. If they kept giving away these chunks of themselves, what would be left of them in the end?

  Beth fussed and Rachel patted her back. “You’re in an odd mood today, Vy. What’s bringing all of this up?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” She stared across the road. Rachel followed her gaze.

  “About trailers?”

  “Among other things. I’m glad your life has changed. I guess I wish...”

  “You wish...?”

  Vy shrugged off her blues. “Nothing. Everything’s great.”

  She couldn’t explain her mood to Rachel when she couldn’t figure it out for herself.

  “Gotta go.” She jumped into her car and drove away. Better to bury herself in work than to try to come up with answers to questions she couldn’t begin to articulate.

  Chapter Four

  Sam left his cowboy boots on the back porch.

  He should have gone cheap, but no. As always, he’d wanted the best.

  The best were now ruined, covered in manure and straw and who knew what else? Maybe they wouldn’t be considered ruined to a cowboy. After all, the boots had been crafted to be used in this way, but Sam kept his boots and shoes polished.

  In the first-floor washroom, he washed his face and hands, but his entire body itched.

  He found Rachel in the kitchen with the baby in some kind of seat on the floor, alone, thank goodness. He wouldn’t have to face the unsettling force of his attraction to Vy.

  “I forgot to ask about arrangements. Should Chelsea and I head into town for dinner?”

  “No need. You’ll eat here with us. I’ll just ask that you contribute to the grocery bills.” She had a nice smile, warm and genuine. Not the least bit mean-spirited like a certain diner owner’s. “If you like to eat anything exotic, I’m afraid you’ll have to pick it up and cook it on your own. I can tell you where to shop.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  She chopped vegetables at the counter.

  “Do you need help?”

  “You look hot. Would you like to shower before dinner?”

  “I’d like it above all things. Is there time?”

  “You’ve got about half an hour. Travis is out front readying the barbecue for steaks. That man sure does love his steaks.” Her laugh lifted a man’s spirits. Lucky Travis.

  “Where’s Chelsea?”

  “In her room with Tori.”

  “Do you mind if I go up to see her after I shower?”

  Rachel looked surprised by his request, or rather that he’d requested it. “Of course you can visit Chelsea.”

  “Thanks.” He showered and headed upstairs, noting how they creaked. Another smart move on Travis’s part. No way could a man sneak upstairs in the middle of the night to harm his family without Travis hearing it. Sam respected that.

  Chelsea lay on her stomach on her bed, with Tori on her stomach beside her. She was reading a children’s book to the girl.

  “Is everything okay?” He might appreciate what the rancher was doing for him but he didn’t want them to think of Chelsea as an automatic babysitter.

  “I’m good.” She’d toned down the attitude, maybe because of the child.

  “I’m good, too,” the little one added, and Sam smiled. “Want to come listen? Chels reads real good.”

  “Yes, she does. I remember.” She used to read all of her books out loud from the moment she learned how to read, until she grew old enough for chapter books and withdrew into them.

  “Are you okay spending time with the little one?”

  “Yes, I’m good.”

  “I’m good, too, Sam,” Tori said again, a little mimic.

  Sam winked at Chelsea and she responded with a smile, shared amusement at Tori’s cuteness. Nice.

  He went downstairs to his minuscule bedroom to unpack his clothes into the small dresser and closet.

  Minutes later, conversation and laughter flowed from the kitchen. Aromas whispered down the hallway. Steak and potatoes. The sounds and scents of homey contentment... A state foreign to him.

  Sam entered the kitchen, where he found the family scene calming. Chelsea sat at the table blowing bubbles for the baby. Travis leaned against the refrigerator. Tori hung upside down from Travis’s strong hands, her heels against his chest, her back to his knees and her blond curls hanging and nearly touching the floor.

  “Look what I can do, Sam.”

  “That’s quite a trick.”

  She tossed her legs toward the floor and Travis flipped her upright, steadying her with a hand on her head.

  Rachel put the finishing touches on a salad and handed it to her husband.

  “Okay, let’s eat. Everyone to the dining room.”

  He sat on one side of the table while Travis and Rachel took the ends. Tori insisted that Chelsea sit beside her.

  Chelsea seemed fine with the arrangement, but it left Sam feeling oddly alone.

  Something stirred inside of him. A wish. A longing. A...something. He didn’t recognize what he felt or what he wanted, and that frustrated him.

  He thought he was a man who knew his own mind, but his world had been turned upside down. He lived in a state of flux. Maybe he’d jumped on this opportunity to help his grandfather so he could avoid his uncertainty about the future. He could make his new venture work once it went live next month, but business offered no guarantees, no matter how smart you were. No one could control the market.

  But life was about risk.

  And these days, for Sam, it was also about revenge. That revenge would take the form of making millions and, however he could, bringing down Tiff’s company.

  He caught Chelsea watching him with a frown. Could she read his mind? Did she know he wanted to see his ex-wife and former father-in-law fail? After all, it had been Sam’s initiatives that had made their joint company a success.

  More power to them if they thought Colin Dewers, Tiff­any’s new husband, could bring in the money Sam had. Sam wasn’t arrogant, just realistic.

  Getting his mind off the frustration of waiting for a launch that was still a month off, he gazed around the room he hadn’t really noticed during his “interview” earlier.

  Normal furniture, a dark
table with fake leather parson’s chairs, echoed the style throughout the rest of the house. The furniture in the entire place combined probably cost less than what Tiffany had spent on just their living room. And yet these people achieved what Tiffany had completely missed. Comfort. Coziness.

  Once the food had been passed around and plates were full, Sam realized the comfort and coziness came from far more than the furniture and the house. It originated with Rachel and Travis. They exuded happiness.

  Their down-home welcoming charm contrasted with the high-toned atmosphere of both his former and his current home in New York by miles. Maybe he shouldn’t have hired a decorator. Maybe he should have done it himself.

  Chelsea had managed to make her room her own, with posters and glow-in-the-dark galaxies on her ceiling and stuff piled around her room.

  Perhaps he needed to relax his neat-freak tendencies to have a place for everything and everything in its place. It might provide him with a modicum of calm, but it also left his homes bereft of charm.

  Rachel laughed at something Travis said, bringing Sam back to his mission. The town fair and rodeo.

  Braced to broach the subject, Sam opened his mouth but Rachel spoke first.

  “We got another ride set up and ready to go, the old teacup ride for the children. You should see the paint job. It’s beautiful and whimsical.” She wiped a dribble of milk from Tori’s chin. “Unfortunately, the Zipper was beyond repair. A shame, really. It’s a classic ride.”

  “Yeah,” Travis said. “I heard. I’ll head over on the weekend to check progress on the rides.”

  Sam’s curiosity would make perfect sense in this conversation.

  “Teacup ride? Zipper?” he asked, leaving the question open so Rachel would answer however she pleased.

  “If you drive just west of town, you’ll notice the Rodeo Fairgrounds.”

  “Chelsea and I did a tour of the local roads before we came to your place. We saw it. A great place, but it looked odd, a mix of old and new. There were people working there. What was all of the activity about? You planning to have a fair sometime soon?”

  Chelsea kicked him under the table. No doubt about it, he was going to hell for lying in front of his daughter.

  What choice did he have? He’d had to bring Chelsea with him to Rodeo.