“Caleb—” Nate shot a glance at Tess. “He said I can call him that, Mom.” She turned back. “Can you stay and have supper with us?”
“No, I don’t think—” Tess began.
“C’mon, Caleb,” Nate urged, her unblinking gaze on him showing she obviously hadn’t even heard Tess’s words. “We’re having a sleepover. We’re gonna grill hot dogs and burgers, and Gram’s making potato salad.”
“Yes, I am. The best red-potato salad you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Tess swallowed a groan and looked across the room.
Just inside the doorway stood Roselynn and Aunt Ellamae, wearing smiles as alike as rows of kernels on a corncob. Tess eyed them warily. With those two, you could never know what to expect next. Just like Nate, as a matter of fact. “Caleb and I have some paperwork to take care of,” she told them.
“Oh, sugar.” Southern sweetness dripped from Roselynn’s words. “You worked hard all day. Surely that can wait.”
“Yeah,” Ellamae added. “At least till after the fresh-made pecan pie.”
Caleb grinned, and he glanced from one eager face to another—all six of them. With great effort, only Tess kept her expression carefully neutral.
“Ladies,” he said, “I don’t see how I can rightly refuse an invitation like that one.”
Nate took him by the hand, and he rose to his feet.
Tess’s eyes stung. Her heart sank even lower.
“C’mon,” her daughter said. “Let’s go out back by the grill.” As she led him away, she added in a hoarse whisper, “Maybe you can do the burgers. Mom always burns ’em.”
The rest of the girls followed in their wake like a row of baby ducklings behind their daddy and mama.
Her own mother and aunt looked at her, looked at each other, still beaming, and then disappeared from the doorway.
Tess put her elbows on the table and her head into her hands.
This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. After almost a decade, Caleb couldn’t be back here again.
But he was. Talking about the past and the changes around here and how many years it had been. If it ever occurred to him to sit down and do the math…
That couldn’t happen, either.
Tess shot to her feet. Determination propelled her across the dining room. She had to get that man out of her house. Had to make sure he never set foot in it again.
Most of all, she had to keep him from ever finding out that Nate—her horse-crazy, rodeo-loving, rebellious daughter Nate—was his daughter, too.
Chapter Four
The evening couldn’t have gotten any worse, from Tess’s perspective. She curled up on her lawn chair in the shadowy backyard and tried not to groan.
With the burgers and hot dogs and potato salad long gone, supper had given way to the night’s entertainment.
Caleb.
He’d started in on tales of his life on the rodeo circuit, as if they had all come together to share stories over a cozy little campfire. Next thing she knew, they’d be toasting marshmallows over the grill and singing “Kumbaya.”
Sighing, she wrapped her arms around her upraised knees.
Nate and the rest of the girls sat cross-legged at Caleb’s feet. They stared up at him, their openmouthed looks of hero worship obvious for everyone to see. Even Roselynn and Ellamae had drawn their chairs over to the group, the better to hear his low drawl.
Traitors.
Yet, how could she blame them? Hadn’t he roped her in, too, just with different kinds of stories? Not anymore, though. Never again.
“How did you ever get out of that field?” asked Lissa Wright, Dana’s oldest child and Nate’s best friend.
“Didn’t that bull kill you?” another of the girls asked.
Nate rolled her eyes. “Of course not, silly. He’s here, isn’t he? Right, Caleb?”
“Right.”
Even from across the yard, Tess could see him struggling to keep from laughing.
“As for how I got out of there, it’s like this.” With every word his voice grew more animated, holding the girls enthralled. “I whipped off my bandana and blindfolded that bull so fast, he didn’t know what hit him. Got him so confused, he ran into a fence post harder than his own head. The darned fool knocked himself out.”
Her Aunt Ellamae, always given to plain speaking, responded with a very unladylike snort. “Caleb Cantrell, that’s a lot of bull, and you know it.”
He grinned at her. “He sure was, ma’am.”
Aunt El laughed.
Tess gave in to the groan she’d tried so hard to hold back and put her chin on her knees.
“Mom,” Nate called, starry-eyed in the lamps’ glow, “are you listening to all this?”
“I don’t know if I’m hearing it just right,” she said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. “It sounds almost too good to be true.”
The real truth was, except for the most exciting moments during his stories, when either Caleb raised his voice or the girls repeated in awestruck tones something he’d said, she hadn’t heard anything at all. From her seat, Caleb’s words came as a murmur. A low, sexy murmur. As much as the sound unsteadied her, she preferred not being able to hear him clearly.
Why would she want to know the details of the bait that had lured him away from her?
In the brief moment when everyone had turned to look at Tess, Caleb stared at her. His eyes shone as bright as Nate’s. Not with the glint of excitement, though. Those eyes, his solemn expression, his stiff shoulders, all showed he had caught the false enthusiasm in her tone.
It seemed to bother him. She didn’t understand why. But she didn’t care.
“What’s the biggest rodeo you were ever in?” Lissa asked.
“Well, let me think…”
Caleb broke eye contact with Tess, the audience focused on their star again, and Tess let her attention turn inward.
She knew nothing about Caleb’s biggest rodeo, but she would never forget his first one....
She’d known nothing about his dreams, either, when they’d first found each other in high school. Two lonely teenagers, they’d held on tight to a relationship made even more precious because it was theirs alone.
Their secret.
Yet a few months later, Caleb had left town—left her—to go off on the rodeo trail. When she didn’t hear from him right away, she told herself not to worry. He had sworn he would call. He would write.
When the weeks went by without a word, it grew harder for her to believe in his empty promises.
And when two months had passed and she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d had nowhere to turn. She couldn’t tell her mom. She’d die before she would confess to Aunt El. And wouldn’t survive if Granddad ever found out.
She couldn’t even risk telling her best friend, Dana.
She had to find Caleb.
And she did.
After weeks of online searches, she had finally tracked him down at a rodeo outside Gallup. She’d had to use most of her babysitting money to buy a round-trip bus ticket that would take her there and back the same day.
She had arrived at the arena just in time to find Caleb flushed with success at his first major win—and with two girls wrapped around him. One giggled into his ear while the other one planted a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek.
Her own cheeks flaming, Tess had approached the trio.
At first, Caleb looked as though he would deny knowing her. Then, he simply denied that he had any interest in her—by turning to walk away.
She stopped him, saying she had something important to discuss.
“Time to collect my prize,” he told her.
“Come and watch, Tess. That’s what’s important. That’s what will save me from going back to some one-horse town with one-horse folks in it.”
Obviously, his statement included her.
Raising her jaw, she stared him down. Sheer willpower kept her from telling him how he’d made her feel. She’d never in her life been so hurt. So humiliated.
Stubborn pride prevented her from telling him about the baby. Instead, she blurted out the news she was getting married.
That didn’t interest him, either. He’d stood there, not saying a word, the silence hanging between them until, finally, he’d wished her well.
Best of luck, he’d said. Damn him.
Then they’d shouted his name over the loudspeakers, and even before he’d turned his lipstick-stained face from her, before he’d rushed off to claim his all-important prize, her heart had broken.
By the time she had walked away, she’d promised herself Caleb Cantrell would never know what he’d meant to her. And he would never know about their child....
In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the picnic table, someone moved toward her. She jumped. Gone so deeply into her thoughts, wrapped so completely in memories, she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. She looked up to see Caleb standing in front of her. It took her a long, startled moment to come to her senses.
When she did, she shot a glance past him, to find they were alone in the backyard.
She tried to rise from her lawn chair. Her legs, curled in one position for who knew how long, almost gave way. Staggering slightly, she managed to catch herself. Caleb didn’t seem to notice. Still, to her dismay, she imagined him reaching out to steady her. Could almost feel the heat from his hands washing through her, as cozy and warm as if she had been sitting all that time in front of the campfire she’d thought about. She felt an overwhelming desire to move closer, to have him wrap his arms around her.
Was she crazy? Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she eased away from him.
She’d been burned by Caleb once. Hadn’t that been enough?
Hoping her stiff legs would bear her weight, she moved aside and rested her hip against the nearest picnic table.
“Nice meal,” he said.
She nodded.
“Still got that pecan pie to go.”
“Yes.”
“Good company, too. But you didn’t seem to feel much like joining in the conversation.”
What could she say in response? Nothing Caleb would want to hear. She shrugged, hoping he would leave it at that.
He didn’t. Of course.
“Not into rodeo?” he asked.
Astonished, she stared at him. Could he really have asked that question? Could he have forgotten what happened the one and only time they’d been together at a rodeo? Or worse, did he not even care? She swallowed a bitter laugh. He didn’t care at all. Of course.
Why should she? “I was at a rodeo with you, Caleb. Or I should say, I followed you to one. Once.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. Not meeting her eyes, he said, “Sorry about that night.”
She shook her head again, this time in stunned disbelief. He’d tossed out the offhanded apology with as much care as he’d tossed paper plates into the trash after their supper.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “That one time was enough for me. I never had much interest in going to rodeos after that.”
“Look, I guess I got caught up in the win and wanted more.”
“More what? Fame and fortune?” Not more time with her. “You got that, didn’t you? And the stories to go with it.” She couldn’t resist adding, “But then, the rodeo didn’t teach you that. You always talked a good line.”
“Tess—”
She raised her hand to cut him off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Shouldn’t have wasted her breath. At least her apology had held some sincerity.
Caleb hadn’t changed, and she’d been foolish to think he might have. Even more foolish to hope she could ever feel close to him again. “Tell you what. Let’s just leave the past in the past, where it belongs. It’s history.”
“Yeah, but you’re part of my history. And I’m part of yours. No getting away from that.”
No, she couldn’t ever forget it. If he only knew how big a role their past played in her life every day…
A cold chill running through her now, she wrapped her arms around her waist, missing the warmth she’d so recently felt. “I don’t know where you’re planning to go with that, Caleb, but you can just stop right there. I won’t have any more interest in your story than I did in your rodeo tales.” She forced herself to stand straight again, abandoning the support of the picnic table. Then she steeled herself to look up at him. “Yes, I’m part of your history,” she agreed. “The part you left behind.”
EVEN THOUGH he now had his mind and hands occupied with two fistfuls’ worth of playing cards, Caleb had plenty of focus left to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Tess.
Or tried to have, more like it. She hadn’t listened to what he’d already said and wouldn’t let him get another word in edgewise. He had heard the hurt in her voice and knew part of him deserved the words she’d flung at him. Still, they’d stung.
He’d have protested, would have spoken up in his own defense, if her pint-size daughter hadn’t returned to the backyard to lead him away and into the dining room, where the other girls had gathered around the long table.
Tess eventually joined them. Reluctantly, he could tell.
He had to fight not to crush the cards in his fist.
Yeah, dammit, he’d left her behind. But he’d meant to come back. He’d sworn it. Only things hadn’t worked out that way. Life never did go the way you had it planned. Tess ought to know that. Hadn’t she said as much herself when she’d told him about her marriage not working out?
Besides, she’d come to him first. To deliver her good news.
Slowly, he loosened his grip on the cards. He looked around the dining room again at the scattering of small tables he’d seen earlier, when he’d first arrived and she had brought him into this room. She’d cut him off quick when he’d asked her about business.
She’d lied, too, saying things were fine.
When Nate had taken him to the back of the yard to get more charcoal for the grill, he’d seen the worn-out condition of the shed there and the broken-down fence sagging behind it. When he and the girls had put the card game on hold to rearrange the living room furniture for the sleepover, he’d seen the frayed edge of carpet behind the couch. Roselynn’s business wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He’d also bet real estate didn’t keep Tess as busy as she’d let on.
He would eat this handful of cards if she could prove either of those things to him otherwise.
Well, if she wouldn’t give him the truth, he would get it somewhere else.
She’d just headed into the kitchen to put the teakettle on.
He threw his leftover cards onto the pile on the table. While one of the girls shuffled the deck, he rose to straddle his chair backward, tilting it on its rear legs, moving closer to a small table for two placed against one dining room wall.
Roselynn and Ellamae sat there, polishing off a couple of pieces of Ellamae’s pie. Roselynn turned her attention to him.
“Caleb, may I cut you another slice?”
He nodded. “Just a sliver.”
When she handed it to him, he took a forkful, smiled his appreciation, then said, “The bed-and-breakfast here is new since my time. How long have you had it running?”
“Just a year now.”
“Things going well?”
A slight wrinkle appeared between her brows and she fussed with the pie server. She didn’t
have Tess’s flair for avoiding answers, though. “Fair to middlin’, I guess,” she said finally.
Ellamae made a choking sound. “Roselynn, your nose is gonna grow. Fact is,” she said to Caleb, “the inn business is almost out the window.”
“No guests?”
“No guests.”
“We’ve had a few,” Roselynn protested. Then she sighed. “But not for a long spell.”
He couldn’t state the obvious, that Flagman’s Folly didn’t have enough going for it to make it a tourist attraction. She’d have to do something to draw them in. “Are you advertising?” he asked.
“That’s expensive.”
“True. But as people say, sometimes you’ve got to spend money to make money.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Roselynn lifted the empty pie plate. “Excuse me. I’ll just run this into the kitchen.”
When she’d gone, Ellamae chuckled. “Run’s the word, all right. Looks like you’ve just scared her off. Not something you’re used to with women, I’d reckon.”
“They’re usually headed in my direction,” he acknowledged. “Used to be, anyhow.”
“What happened?”
He blinked.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “I’m nosy. And I’m blunt. You ought to remember that from days past.”
“I sure do.” He laughed.
She was tough, too, and wiry, an older woman with graying hair and snapping dark eyes. Looked like any number of seasoned cowhands he could name. But Ellamae didn’t herd cattle. She had an even more demanding job.
Keeping the peace in this town.
Ellamae worked as the court clerk. As a teen, Caleb had been up at the judge’s bench a time or two, called in for jaywalking and riding with no lights on his bike—minor offenses not regularly requiring a court appearance. But in Flagman’s Folly, things didn’t always run the “regular” way. Another reason he’d left town at the first opportunity and never come back. Until today.
Judge Baylor kept a firm grip on his gavel inside the courtroom and out. And Caleb had always suspected Ellamae, with her direct way of dealing with folks, held as much power as the judge when it came to anything that went on around here.
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