Tess shivered and grabbed the door handle. She didn’t want to share any kind of pleasure with him. Not now or in the future. And she refused even to think about their past.
Once outside, she stopped on the sidewalk near his pickup truck. He had driven them the couple of blocks to the Double S, and the close confines of the truck’s cab had nearly left her hyperventilating. The two blocks had stretched to forty miles.
No way did she want to share that vehicle with him again, either.
“So,” he said, resting against the fender, just as he’d been standing when she had first seen him that morning. “How old is she?”
“Dori?” She pretended to misunderstand, knowing full well what he meant. “I’m not sure. Around my mother’s age, I would guess. Early sixties.”
The deception hurt her. Badly. Because at her response, he grinned, making his green eyes blaze even in the shadow beneath his Stetson’s brim. “I meant that girl of yours.”
“Oh. She’s nine.”
“Nice-looking kid. What’s her name?”
“N-Nate.” Where was he going with this conversation? And why wasn’t she going far, far away in another direction?
“Nate?” He sounded amused. “A real handful.”
She frowned. He’d seen her daughter for all of five minutes, most of which Nate had spent amid the group of girls fawning over him. “What makes you say that?”
“The stubborn jaw.” He reached up and touched her chin with his fingertip. “I’d have known her even if she didn’t have your hair.”
She swallowed hard and backed up a step, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. No, she would not get back in that pickup truck with him—even though it would give her a chance to sit down.
“I’ll be in touch,” she assured him. When cows give orange milk. “I’m sure it won’t take long at all. And…” she held her breath a moment, then rushed on “I’m assuming you’ve reserved a place to stay closer to Santa Fe or Albuquerque.”
His expression hardened. “I’ve got it covered,” he said, his voice rough.
At another time, she might have thought twice about his reaction. Not anymore. “Good,” she said firmly. “There’s no need for you to hang around. I have your cell phone number. And you don’t need to drive me to the office, thanks.”
As she started along the sidewalk, he fell into step beside her. Though he matched his stride to hers, he walked with the stiff gait she had seen when he’d first gotten out of the truck in front of the Double S.
He’d been hurt during a rodeo. Very seriously hurt. The townsfolk had gone into an uproar when they’d learned about it. Nate and her friends had been despondent. Tess had managed to harden her heart against the news. Had tried not to think about Caleb’s aborted career. About his injury. For the most part, she’d succeeded. Until now.
Reading about his accident was one thing. Seeing the results of it right there in front of her was something else. But she couldn’t feel any pity for Caleb. Shouldn’t feel any guilt, either.
Not after they way he had crushed her.
Keeping her gaze forward, she cleared her throat. “I—uh—know the way back on my own.”
“That’s good,” he said. “A successful real estate person like yourself ought to know her way around. In fact, I imagine you’re the perfect person to show me some of the sights in town.”
Shaky legs or not, that brought her to a solid stop. “What are you playing at, Caleb? You were born and raised here, same as I was. You know all the sights there are to see.”
“Maybe. And maybe some things have changed.”
His gaze drifted from her eyes all the way to her toes. An answering shiver rippled its way along the same path, as if he’d run his finger down her body.
“You’ve got more curves than I remember.” He grinned again.
Time to get away from him. “I have to run.” What an understatement.
She needed to get to her office, research the list of his requirements, and find some property for him as quickly as she could—and as far away from Flagman’s Folly as possible.
“Okay.” To her relief, he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ve got some business to take care of, myself. Since yours won’t take long, why don’t I pick you up later? We’ll ride around town a bit. Talk over your prospects at supper.”
The most unlikely prospect she’d ever heard.
The words rested on the tip of her tongue, ready for her to say them. But she couldn’t.
Visions floated into her mind.
Nate. Roselynn. Dana with her three small children but no husband by her side. An Out Of Business notice plastered on the front window of Wright Place Realty. A For Sale sign decorating the lawn of the Whistlestop Inn.
She thought of the commissions she and Dana would earn from the sale of a ranch to Caleb. The sale of a substantial ranch. He’d made it plain he intended to acquire the largest piece of property she could locate. He’d seemed obsessed by the idea of owning a big spread in New Mexico. Strange, when he’d told her he already ran a working ranch in Montana. She’d had to bite her tongue against the question she wanted to ask. Why did he feel such a need to branch out?
Fortunately, she’d kept quiet. What did it matter to her, as long as she managed to find him that ranch clear across the state? She ought to be grateful for his obsession. The income she could earn in satisfying his need would take care of every worry she’d envisioned, for a good long time. She couldn’t afford—literally—to get on the man’s bad side.
If he had one.
Everything she’d seen of him so far looked as good if not better than it had ten years ago.
“Sound all right to you?” he persisted. “You said you’re still living at your mama’s. Can she keep watch on the girls at the sleepover for a while?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, she can. That sounds fine.”
“Good. I’ll be at your place early, then, around four.”
She nodded and walked away before he could see the expression she knew she couldn’t hide.
How many times as a love-struck teenager had she dreamed about Caleb pulling up to the house to pick her up for a date? Impossible, of course. Her grandfather had made sure of it. Even without Granddad’s rules, she had known the pointlessness of her dream. She and Caleb had kept their relationship secret.
She sighed in frustration.
Back then, she had loved Caleb. Couldn’t get enough of him. Yet he had left her. And now, when she didn’t want the man anywhere near her, she was stuck with him.
The irony of the situation nearly overwhelmed her. But the damage was done. Her world had already caved in earlier that day, the minute he had forced his way into her life again.
Chapter Three
Caleb parked the pickup truck in his choice of spaces behind Tess’s home. Only one other vehicle occupied the parking area, an ancient Toyota with more than its share of dents.
Funny to think he’d come calling here again. Twice in the past, he’d stopped by this place and hadn’t made it beyond the front door. Her granddaddy had seen to that. Getting inside now would bring him a considerable measure of satisfaction.
Still, anger rose at the memory of her granddaddy. The same anger that had bubbled through his veins since he’d first set foot in town this morning. He’d have to watch that. Control that from here on. Anger wouldn’t get him what he wanted from the townsfolk, or from Tess. No, he needed to give them all someone to look up to. Someone they’d respect.
A good storyteller. A bull-riding champ. A rodeo star.
Taking a deep breath, he stared at the clock on the dashboard. Three-fifty. Ten minutes early. Ten minutes to sit here. No sense letting Tess think he was too eager to see her again.
H
e couldn’t have any illusions about her feelings, that was for sure.
She had looked less than thrilled to see him outside the real estate office that morning, and a good sight more unhappy once she learned why he’d been standing on the doorstep.
What he’d told her of his reasons, anyhow.
Pity she hadn’t been more enthused.
As if she would forget about their past, just because he’d wanted her to. As if he could impress her, just by mentioning money. He’d known he would have to work harder with Tess than with anyone. Maybe he should have started with somebody who’d have accepted his return more readily.
Dori and Manny from the Double S, for instance.
Of everyone in Flagman’s Folly, they were the people he should have harbored some guilt over. Maybe he did, somewhere deep inside. Someplace he couldn’t get to right now. Not while he had grudges to tackle and axes to grind and scores to settle. He had all the bad parts of his past to resolve before he could look to the future.
Coming to the edge of dying had made him realize that. It had humbled him. It had scared the hell out of him. And it had finally made him understand just what all those early years and those bad parts of his past had done to him.
Returning to Flagman’s Folly had to make up for some of that.
He glanced at the dashboard clock again. Time for the show to begin.
He climbed out of the truck and followed the path around the house to the front door. When he had driven by earlier that day, he’d seen the small sign near the sidewalk, proclaiming this the Whistlestop Inn. The sight had surprised him. Another thing that had changed since he’d left town.
Always, he had envied Tess this old house with its two stories, peaked roof and deep porch corralled by rails. A wooden-slatted swing dangled from chains in the porch ceiling. He’d always wanted to sit in that swing, too. It overlooked rows of plants with big pink and yellow and orange blooms and the yard that ran down to the street.
The porch alone took up more footage than that piece of crap trailer he’d lived in growing up.
He stabbed the doorbell and stepped back. Inside the house, he heard chimes, followed by some screeching and a lot of loud laughter. The girls, again.
Smiling, he shook his head. Kids were the same everywhere. Grown-up fans were, too. The autographs he’d signed all across the country proved that.
Abruptly the inner door swung open. Through the screened door, Tess’s dark-brown eyes stared at him from a pint-size height. The kid could almost have passed as Tess’s double. In a few years, grown up, she no doubt would. She’d look amazingly like the Tess he’d left behind.
Now those eyes rounded like the mouth beneath it.
“Better watch it, kid,” he said. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you your face might freeze that way?”
Her features went slack. “Yeah, all the time.” She grinned. “My name’s not kid, Mr. Cantrell. It’s Nate.”
“So I heard. And my name’s Caleb.”
She sucked in a breath. “You mean I can call you that?”
He nodded.
“Wow.”
There went the eyes again. He chuckled. “What’s the deal, if you don’t mind my asking? Nate’s a boy’s name, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She looked down, suddenly shy, the dark curls falling to hide most of her face.
He couldn’t help it. The urge came on him strong to tease her, just as he’d kidded her mama years ago, though Tess had been older then. “Can’t be your real name,” he said. “Come on, give.”
She paused, considering him for a moment, then stared at her feet. “Anastasia,” she hissed, her tone disgusted. She peeked out from under all that hair to see how he was taking the news.
“Hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. Now that he’d gotten himself into this, how should he handle it? “Well. Sounds like a right pretty name to me.”
“It does?” She looked straight at him again. “Nobody has that name but me.”
“That makes it pretty and special, then, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know.” Shrugging, she rubbed the toe of one shoe against the floor. “Ya coming in, or are ya just ringing doorbells for fun?”
He had to chomp down for a second on the corner of his lip before he could answer. “Is it fun?”
“Yeah. If nobody catches you.”
“Hmm,” he said again. “Well…” So far, he wouldn’t take any prizes for his conversational skills. Hopefully, he’d have more luck with Tess later. But if he wasn’t talking horses or rodeo, he sure felt at a loss when it came to kids. How could he answer this one? “Considering I did get caught ringing your bell,” he said slowly, “and by you…I’ll have to confess I was planning on coming in.”
“Really? C’mon.” She pushed open the screened door to let him in, then she turned and raced through the foyer. “Hey, guys,” she yelled at a level that could quiet an arena without a bullhorn. “You won’t believe who’s here!”
He stepped into the foyer.
And found Tess staring at him.
She looked good in a tight-fitting Western shirt, almost a twin to his own, but more feminine in pink with a rose at each shoulder. He couldn’t resist getting a full look at her snug jeans and brown cowboy boots.
Eventually, he worked his way up again to confront her unblinking gaze. He had frozen in the act of removing his Stetson. Dang. He was here to impress the woman, not stand gawking at her. Hurriedly, he swept his arm across his waist and bowed. “Well, hey. Didn’t see you standing there, ma’am.” He gestured between them. “The way we’re dressed, we might almost be related.”
Her mouth taut, she said nothing.
He frowned. “Aren’t you going to welcome me in?”
She took a deep breath and let it out in an exasperated sigh. “I think someone already did.”
CONSCIOUS OF Caleb behind her, Tess hurried across the foyer and into the dining room. She had deliberately steered him away from the opposite side of the house, where Nate and her friends had claimed the living room. That was the last place she wanted him to go, and Nate was the last person she wanted him to see.
“Why don’t we take a look at what I’ve pulled together,” she said over her shoulder, “and then we can be on our way.”
Or with luck, Caleb could leave on his own.
If she took care of all their business here and now, they might skip going out altogether. And if that didn’t work, maybe she could at least avoid a tour of the town with him until absolutely necessary.
Still shaken by his greeting, she plopped down into a chair at the long central dining table and waved at the empty seats. Her briefcase rested on the chair beside hers, where she felt thankful to have it as a barricade. “I didn’t expect you to stop in,” she said. “I thought we would just hit the road.”
Let him think she hadn’t a worry in the world about going out alone with him.
“Seems like your daughter had different ideas. She’s got the notion of Southern hospitality down pat.”
She froze, a file folder half out of her case. “Meaning, I haven’t?”
He considered. “Your welcome was on the cold side, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m not used to having people in my home, uninvited.” That was rude. And so untrue. Sort of.
“Thought we settled the invitation part of it.” He eyed the smaller tables scattered in various parts of the room. “And looks to me like you’re used to feeding a herd. I saw the sign outside. How’s business?”
“Fine. But it’s not my concern.” He’d sounded surprised about the house’s transformation and looked at her now with his eyebrows raised. “My mother owns the bed-and-breakfast. I just happen to live here.”
“With Nate.”
“Yes, of course, with Nate.” She fought not to grind her teeth.
“And with your mother, of course. And your granddaddy.”
“No, my grandfather passed away a couple of years ago.” She had no idea why he would care, but he seemed oddly surprised by the news.
“Well,” he said, “surely you know if there are guests around the house or not.”
She shrugged. “I’m too busy working to pay much attention.”
“The real estate business keeps you hopping, huh? Never would have thought that, myself.” He gave her a piercing glance. “Guess I was right—things have changed around town.”
An even more touchy subject. “Some things,” she said tightly. Years ago, she could never have let him into this house. Would never have been able to face the consequences. She only wished he wasn’t here now. Part of her did, anyway.
Another part of her felt remorse. For Nate’s sake, she wished she could be nicer to him, could forgive him for the past. At the thought, she hardened her heart. Would Caleb feel any remorse for the way he had treated her?
“How many years has it been?” he asked. “About nine? Ten?”
With his questions, all thoughts of forgiveness fled her mind.
“About,” she muttered. She could tell him how long it had been since they’d last seen each other, down to the day. To the hour.
She folded her arms across her chest as if that could protect her. Too late. His questions had already triggered a whole list of thoughts she wanted—needed—to stay away from.
“This place never was an inn before,” he said thoughtfully. “What made your mother go into business for herself?”
“As I told you, my grandfather died. He left the house to her, and she decided to start the bed-and-breakfast.” Short and sweet and all he needed to know. She needed to get him out of here. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll concentrate on your business. I’ve got—”
Nate and her friends rushed into the room, their sneakers screeching on the polished floor as the girls skidded to a stop beside the table.
Tess’s heart sank.
The Rodeo Man's Daughter (Harlequin American Romance) Page 3