by Mindy Neff
“That explains the camera equipment I saw in the hall.”
She nodded and shoveled more eggs in Katie’s mouth, practically becoming a contortionist, since the baby was still intent on playing with the dog. “Is he the only one, or do you have more?”
“Dogs?”
“Yes.”
“Justine and a pup. The neighbors talked us out of the other puppies.”
“Oh, too bad. Who named the mama dog?”
“That would be Grant’s doing. Reminded him of a girlfriend.”
She raised a brow. “She looked like a dog?”
Grant grinned, showing her that his smile could be almost as potent as his brother’s. “No, she had beautiful yellow hair and graceful limbs.”
“Ah, you based it on sex.”
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Grant sputtered. At the same time Ethan said, “Would you not be talking that way?”
“You guys really are going to have to get past my father’s vocation or we’re going to have a lot of trouble living together.”
“Living…?” Grant couldn’t seem to finish his sentence, and Clay knocked over his chair in the midst of trying to sit on it.
Ethan sighed. This maddening, unpredictable, energetic woman was about to set them all on their ears and turn their household into chaos. He owed it to his brothers to let them know.
“Dora’s moving in with us for a month.”
Chapter Four
Dora spent the next few days getting acclimated to her new living quarters. The ranch was gorgeous, all flowing green grass, pristine fences and high-tech stables that housed horses whose bloodlines were legendary.
The Callahans dabbled in quite a few ventures, it seemed. Horses, cattle, stock markets. Their equipment was top-notch, their white pickups polished to a shine with the Callahan & Sons name and logo emblazoned in dark green. The green-and-white color scheme and logo were proudly displayed on stable blankets, buckets, towels and every other implement as a stamp of ownership and advertisement. Everything had its place and gleamed, showing at first glance that this was a wealthy and well-run operation.
Dora was impressed—though she was careful not to let on to Ethan. It tickled her to see his pique when she appeared unmoved by his efforts to dazzle her. And he really didn’t have to try very hard. Just looking at him was enough to render her speechless. He deserved every bit of his playboy reputation.
With her camera hanging around her neck and Katie strapped in a backpack, Dora poked around in the barn and decided she’d landed in the middle of an animal gold mine. An old barn cat had a litter of kittens that were just precious. Dora could already envision the shot she’d get of the tiger-fur babies peeking out of a ten-gallon hat.
Now if she could just talk one of these cowboys out of theirs, she’d be in good shape.
The eerie scream of a horse snagged her attention, the sound pulling at something deep inside her she didn’t understand.
“What was that?” Dora asked Katie.
Like a little parrot, Katie whispered, “S’sat?”
Ever curious, Dora followed the noise to one of the outbuildings where the hive of activity had her raising her camera and clicking shots for the pure pleasure of it.
“Oh, my,” she said, her voice barely audible. Katie appeared similarly awestruck because she didn’t try to repeat the words.
A magnificent, jet-black stallion, head lifted, nostrils flaring, mane shifting in the breeze was being led into a large indoor paddock where a pretty, gleaming chestnut mare waited in a special stall, her breast against the railing, her tail wrapped and held to the side by Ethan’s brother, Clay. Grant was handling the stallion and Ethan was giving directions to his brothers in a soft, deep voice.
A breeding shed, she realized, with a breeding in progress.
Dora had been around animals all her life, but she’d never seen the mating rituals of horses up close and personal this way.
Fascinated, a bit embarrassed, she watched as the mare appeared to ready herself, shifting restlessly. Eagerly.
She saw Ethan grin as though he were a warrior celebrating a victory. Muscles rippled and bunched in his arms as he helped Grant control the quivering stallion who appeared more than willing to get to the main event.
“Easy does it, now,” he crooned. “Let’s show the lady a good time.”
Dora’s cheeks heated before she realized he was talking about the mare, not her. He didn’t even know she was standing there.
The mare, though hobbled and covered with a blanket of leather for protection, regally tossed her head and gave a call of submission just as the stallion lunged and covered her. It was a wild, powerful, awesome sight, and Dora was riveted…and strangely aroused.
She must have drawn in a breath, or perhaps it was Katie’s little voice that got his attention, because at that moment Ethan looked at her.
For several seconds she couldn’t move. Their gazes locked, and a fine sexual tension arced between them like buzzing electricity, sending her blood roaring in her ears. The power of that intense, exclusive look whipped through her, robbing her of breath and thought. Erotic images she knew little about melded with the sounds and scents of animals, nature and sex.
Then Katie broke the spell by aptly putting her little hands over Dora’s eyes. Ethan laughed, and Dora pulled away Katie’s hands in time to see him physically assisting the horses in their coupling.
Appalled, fascinated, she couldn’t look away. The power of it all had her heart racing. The air palpitated with strength and frenzied need and an edgy, elemental violence that seduced even as it frightened.
Once again Ethan turned and caught her stare. He appeared as magnetized and confused as she was by this obvious and strange force that seemed to hold them.
With a slight frown he spoke to his brothers, then made his way toward Dora and Katie, taking care to stay out of the way of the mating animals who were now being led away from each other.
“Come out to get an education on the birds and the bees?” he asked, urging Dora away from the paddock. He flicked a finger against Katie’s cheek, causing the baby to giggle.
“I’m a bit old for lessons on the birds and bees, but I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Her voice sounded more whiskey-coated than normal, and her breathing nearly matched those of the heaving, sweating horses. She was moved and stunned and fascinated all at once.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Far enough away now, they turned and watched as Clay and Grant each took their respective horses in opposite directions, walking them to cool them down, as well as to soothe. “Those two will produce an excellent foal.”
“I thought big operations like this relied on artificial insemination.”
“We do both.”
But today the stallion got lucky, she thought. “It seems so cold-blooded to mate purely for perfect genetics.”
He shrugged. “That’s what owners pay us for though. They’re the bloodlines that’ll win the Triple Crown.”
“Do you only breed Thoroughbreds for racing?”
“No. We produce a really good line of cow ponies and pleasure horses as well.”
“And you train them here, too?” She’d seen several of the cowboys riding and working with the beautiful horses.
“A few. Mostly we turn them over to a neighbor, Stony Stratton. Between my stud’s bloodlines and Stony’s uncanny way with the horses, we turn out some of the finest stock in the world.”
“Impressive,” she said before she thought to stop herself.
“Finally, I do something to impress the woman.” His grin was quick and sexy.
“Don’t let it go to your head, hotshot.”
He looked at Katie. “Does she talk to you like this, too?” he asked the little girl.
Katie babbled and clapped her hands.
“Thankfully, Katie didn’t inherit your ego. She’s perfectly humble and sweet as candy.”
“I’m pretty sweet.” He ran a finger over
Dora’s lips. “Want to taste?” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he was backtracking. “Hell—I mean, heck, I’m sorry.”
This man was tough on her hormones. He went from hot to cool in the blink of an eye. His determination to treat her with reverence was keeping her in a state of sexual flux. And that was a state she had no experience with.
He made her want to explore, then he would just pull back. It was frustrating as all get-out.
“After our bout with voyeurism, seems only natural to think about sex.”
“We weren’t thinking about—” He stopped, obviously flustered. “Voyeurism?”
“What else would you call it? We were watching those horses. Avidly, I might add.”
“Avidly,” he parroted, charming her with his discomfort.
“Yes, and I don’t even know their names.”
“Duke of Earl and Synchronicity.”
“Doesn’t it make you…hot, watching this all the time?”
“Legs, this isn’t a conversation you and I should be having.” He tugged his hat lower on his brow and glanced away.
“Ethan Callahan, you’re a big fraud.”
“If you’re speaking of my notorious playboy reputation, you’re right. It’s highly overstated. And it’s nonexistent when it comes to holy, church ladies.”
“Who says I’m a church lady?”
“You did.”
“I said my father was a minister.”
“Same thing.”
“Not at all.”
For a full five seconds he stared at her. “You’re playing with fire, here. You’re a lamb and I’m the big bad wolf.”
“Hmm. I wonder.” A big bad wolf didn’t go to such obvious lengths to resist temptation.
“Maybe we should change the subject.”
“Maybe.” She had no idea what had gotten into her, why she was so riveted by him, why she was so determined to tempt him in the first place. It was crazy.
And they both seemed to have forgotten that she had a baby strapped to her back.
His baby.
He examined the camera that hung around her neck. “Been taking pictures?”
“Thinking about it. I hadn’t actually lined up any shots. And that reminds me. I’ll need a dark room. Your upstairs laundry room will do nicely, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ve an idea my minding wouldn’t make a bit of difference.”
“Are you implying I’m pushy?”
His lips twitched. “You said it.”
“And here I’d heard cowboys were gentlemen.”
“Mmm. And so we are. Take whichever room you want. We have plenty. What is it that you do with these pictures you take?”
“I sell them to a greeting card company. Not the actual photos, but the sketches I make from them.”
“And this is what pays you enough money to afford a seven-thousand-dollar donation for a date?”
“No. Quentin Watkins is why I can afford seven-thousand-dollar donations.”
“Quentin Watkins?”
“My grandfather. Texas oilman. Filthy rich and he adores me.”
“Little wonder.” His gaze traveled over her hair, her face, rested on her lips. He took a breath. “So you don’t have to work.”
“No more than you do,” she countered, her brow raised.
“Touché.”
“I enjoy what I do, though. Just as I can see you do.”
“Yeah.” His gaze shifted to a mechanical walker where a mare happily trudged in a circle after being washed. “I love breeding horses. I even like the cattle, though that’s more of a dirty, sweaty job than the horses. We’ve built up an operation here that pretty much ensures we can have what we want. Money will often do that. Surely you see that in your own life.”
She shrugged but didn’t answer right away. Because all the money in the world couldn’t buy certain things.
It couldn’t buy the right to a little girl who wasn’t her biological daughter.
And to that end Dora realized she was going about her goal the wrong way. Ethan needed to know just how great a commitment raising a baby entailed. And he certainly wouldn’t learn that if she continued to shoulder all the responsibility for Katie.
“Money can be a blessing or a curse, depending on whose hands it’s in. You’ve obviously handled yours well. I wonder, though, how you imagine fitting Katie into this lifestyle of having anything you want and pulling up stakes on a whim.”
“I don’t pull up stakes on a whim. I’m firmly rooted in this land.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then clarify.”
“What are you going to do when you want to date? When you want to fly off somewhere just for the sheer foolishness of it?”
“Foolishness?”
She shrugged, tried not to smile at the affront in his voice.
“Most folks retain a trusted baby-sitter,” he said.
“And are you going to turn over the raising of Katie to a baby-sitter?”
“I never said that.”
“What about when you’re working the ranch?”
His chest expanded, and he glanced at the backpack Katie was happily bouncing in, causing Dora to steady her stance lest she be thrown off balance. “You seem to manage.”
“It’s what I’ve chosen. It’s what I’ve adapted to,” she corrected. For some reason she still didn’t want him to know how desperately she wanted to keep Katie as her own. If she asked him to sign over custody right now, he’d give her an emphatic no. She was sure of it. Because it was still very new to him.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, took a step back. She wondered if he even realized the unconscious distance he’d created, then decided he didn’t. The man was frightened of his child and doing his utmost not to show it.
“You’re here to get us going on the right track,” he reminded as though it was just that simple.
“To watch and observe. So far, I’m doing more doing.”
Something came over his features then, like a memory that scraped him raw. “You’re tired of the responsibility.” His words were flat with an underlying whip to them.
“I didn’t say—” She bit her tongue, wondering if she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. In the end, though, she couldn’t bring herself to let him think that she viewed Katie as a burden. “I made a promise to Amanda,” she said quietly.
He tested the straps of the backpack, and a soft smile touched his lips when Katie latched on to his fingers, dragged them right into her slobbery mouth. “Here, now, sweet peach. My paws are dirty.” Katie smacked and drooled even more. He looked back up at Dora. “Does this contraption come in an extralarge?”
“I imagine.”
“Then let’s you and me take a shopping trip. I doubt I could get one shoulder in that one.”
She nearly smiled. He had that look on his face that clearly stated, “Anything you can do, I can do, too.” Watching him rise to the challenge was going to be entertaining, and, never one to turn down an adventure, Dora agreed to go.
Besides, a shopping trip with the three of them would mean she would still be mainly in charge of Katie.
THE SKY WAS CLEAR and endlessly blue, the twin-engine Baron scooting along at 180 knots and handling like a dream. Katie was sound asleep, looking like an angel. Very much like the beautiful woman beside him. But despite the fact that they were soaring close to the heavens, the angel in the front seat made him think of sin.
“You don’t do things by small measure, do you?” Dora asked, her voice whisky-soft through the aviation headset.
Ethan looked over at her. Her blond hair brushed her shoulders and the seat belt defined her pert breasts. And he was not going to notice her breasts, or anything else about her for that matter. The purpose of the trip was to shop for nursery furniture. A purely platonic outing.
Too bad Dora Watkins didn’t inspire platonic thoughts.
“You mean the plane? Why should I skimp if I’ve go
t the means to do otherwise?”
“Bragger.”
His grin was quick and self-assured. “Nothing wrong with that. I work hard for what I have.”
“Ouch.”
“No. I didn’t mean to disparage your wealth, Dora.”
She winked at him. “I know.”
Ethan was glad they were flying instead of driving. That sexy wink would have caused him to run off the road. As it was, it sent his blood pressure spiking.
“The auctioneer the other night, Lloyd, claimed it sinful to own more than one flashy car. Does he know about both your flashy airplanes, too?”
“Yeah, but don’t forget, I share this with my brothers—if they beg real nice.” He flashed his grin again. “I like hotrod planes, and mine are honeys. As for Lloyd’s reference to gluttony, what can I say? I use the one eighty-five for cattle work and this Baron for pleasure.”
“And shopping,” Dora added.
“Mmm. Life is good.” He checked his coordinates and banked left. “You mentioned something when we were talking about Amanda. You said the church couldn’t afford to pay her much.”
She knew what he was getting at. “People who know our background often don’t understand. Despite Grandpa’s millions, Daddy insists on contributing to worthwhile charities rather than the church itself. He’s always claimed his own bank account isn’t a charity, and since Grandpa’s alive and well and ornery enough to outlive us all, there’s no point in talking about premature inheritances.”
“But you have a trust fund.”
“I did mention that Grandpa’s ornery, right?” She grinned. “He says it’s his right and his duty to do as he pleases with his grandkids—unless one of us should get the calling, that is. He’ll bulldoze the rest of us, but he won’t mess with the Man Upstairs.”
Ethan laughed. “Sounds a lot like Ozzie Peyton. Have any of you gotten the calling?”
“My brother Mike. Joe and Kenny are deacons, but that’s as involved as they want to get. Same goes for Lyle. But back to your question about Amanda, a church the size of ours doesn’t lend itself to enormous salaries. Plus, Amanda was proud enough to want to make her way on her own.”
“Admirable.”
“She was.”
“Speaking of admirable, I did actually do some research on your grandfather. Quentin Watkins is quite a man.”