The Rodeo Man's Daughter (Harlequin American Romance)

by White Daille, Barbara

  Nate managed to hold her tongue but turned abruptly and ran from the room.

  Despite his irritation at Tess, the despairing look on her face stunned him. He grabbed his empty mug and took a long swig of nonexistent coffee just to keep from reaching for her instead.

  Chapter Eight

  “Give me a minute,” Tess told Caleb. “I want to run up and see Nate before we leave.”

  “I’ll be outside.”

  As if she needed the reminder. She hadn’t made a move without him in days. At this point, she wasn’t sure just how much more of his company she could take.

  He’d seemed edgy and irritable during their long drives. She’d made a list of the most far-flung properties she could find, but he’d asked her about locating something nearer to Flagman’s Folly—exactly what she didn’t want to do.

  She walked past his bedroom and tried not to think of how he’d looked that night she’d met him at his doorway. How he’d touched her and what she had felt. More stress piled onto what she already had to deal with.

  Every day, no matter how she tried to avoid it, their trips brought them closer to the town limits. Every day, her tension increased and her guilt grew. Thoughts ran continually through her head of Mom and Nate, Dana and her kids, and all they had to lose if she didn’t earn this commission.

  And none of that even came close to the most dangerous aspect of this whole disaster.

  Caleb’s story of meeting her grandfather had surprised her. But after jumping to conclusions with him that day, she didn’t ask anything more. She didn’t want to know. From then on, she’d stayed vigilant about watching what she said. Unfortunately, she didn’t have that power over her thoughts.

  Who was she kidding? She didn’t have any control of her thoughts or emotions when she was with Caleb.

  She pushed against Nate’s door and lost her breath as she found herself looking straight at him.

  At her daughter’s insistence, the bedroom had been decorated in a cowboy theme, which she’d added to by covering the walls with rodeo souvenirs. From the poster beside the dresser, a larger-than-life-size Caleb Cantrell, Champion Bull Rider, stood staring back at Tess.

  She had to force herself to drag her gaze away.

  Nate lay sprawled on her bed surrounded by her collection of miniature horses.

  “You okay?” Tess asked.

  “Yeah.” She didn’t look up.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you? I know you don’t like doing your chores, but you don’t normally refuse like that.”

  “Nothing’s bothering me.”

  “Oh. Well, then, I’ll say goodbye. We’re getting ready to go out to look at more property.”

  “Yeah, you said that. At breakfast. You’re always leaving.”

  Tess looked at her in surprise. Was that what Nate’s tantrum had been about? Missing her mother? “I know. But it’s business.”

  “Yeah, and it’s always business. Why can’t you go by yourself for once? Why can’t Caleb stay here with me and Gram and the guys?” She sat up on the bed and bounded to her feet, scattering toy horses over the floor. “Why do you always have to take him away?”

  Before Tess could recover, Nate ran through the door.

  Her knees shaking, Tess sank to the edge of the bed.

  Suddenly she felt thankful for the trip out of town. She would deal with her emotions around Caleb now, including the guilt that had begun to plague her almost daily. She’d have to. Anything would be better than letting him stay here and spend any more time with Nate.

  CALEB HAD MOVED outside to lean up against the Toyota. He’d gotten tired of waiting in the kitchen.

  He was impatient—for yet another day of self-imposed torture, of spending hours alone with Tess while keeping his hands off her. Evenings were better, since he’d taken it upon himself to fix up Roselynn’s decrepit shed in the backyard of the inn.

  But the days alone with Tess… If he didn’t get a break from the days, the unfulfilled lust might just break him.

  Still, those long rides with her along empty desert roads between available properties had left him plenty of time for thinking.

  He had to keep his head around her. He couldn’t start anything that might keep him tied down. That wasn’t part of his plan. His life was in Montana now. He had a ranch to run, people dependent upon him, a foreman who might go rogue any minute. He had too much happening outside this town. And too many bad memories of it to stay here.

  Permanently, anyhow. For the short term, that was a different story, one he’d told himself all those long months in rehab.

  His life in Montana—or anywhere—would never mean a thing until he’d done what he’d set out to do right here. He damn sure wouldn’t give that up for a roll in the hay.

  Not even with Tess.

  She came out of the house, and he caught another look at the bright, flower-printed shirt she’d picked to wear today. The shirt that made him think of hot nights in a garden and even hotter sex on the grass under the stars.

  He slid into the Toyota and slammed the door behind him. He’d almost gotten himself pulled together by the time she buckled herself into the driver’s seat.

  “We’re heading southeast today,” she announced. “Going to look at a couple of places down near Carlsbad.”

  Grinding his teeth, he stared out through the windshield. Here he was, lusting after the woman no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of it, while she did her best to get rid of him. He’d asked her to find some property closer to town. Did she think he didn’t know Carlsbad was about as far as they could go and still be in the same state?

  “I think we’ll skip the long trek today,” he said.

  She frowned.

  Roselynn came out onto the back porch with a basket of laundry to hang on the line. Seeing them, she set the basket on the top step and crossed over to the car. “Since you’re still here, I thought I’d ask if you’d like me to fix you up a picnic lunch or anything.”

  “No, thanks,” he said. “I think the only trip we’ll be taking today is down to Signal Street.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Nice to hear you’ll be in town.” She turned away and went right back past the laundry basket and into the house.

  Shrugging, he turned to Tess. “We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.”

  There she went with that white-knuckled choke hold on the steering wheel he’d seen the other day. It reminded him of himself as a kid, the first time he’d climbed onto the back of a mechanical bucking bronco and held on for dear life. It bothered him to think he gave her that same feeling of desperation.

  It irritated the hell out of him that she didn’t share his feelings of lust.

  He forced a smile. “You never gave out that promo you have,” he reminded her.

  “Speaking of promo,” she said tightly, “I see you’ve given Nate some of yours.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I contacted my PR people, and they sent me some info to pass along to your mama. They threw in some of my stuff, too. Nate was there when we opened the package. So I gave her a poster. See?” He grinned. “I told you there was value in advertising. Now, handing your promo out today can do double duty. You never got around to showing me the sights in town, either.”

  Her fingers had loosened considerably on the steering wheel, but at his last words her expression turned downright suspicious. “Why is that important?”

  What should he tell her?

  Not the truth, that’s for sure.

  He planned to fling money around Flagman’s Folly in a way that would make her and everyone else sit up and take notice—and then bow down and beg for more.

  No, he couldn’t tell her that. Instead, as always, he read his audie
nce and came up with a good story.

  “If I buy a sizable ranch, I’m going to need a good number of cowhands and someone to run it. I’d like to know what’s available for them if they ever come this way. And for me, too, when I’m around.”

  Again, her mouth opened and shut again. No suspicion in her eyes now. Only a look of complete dismay.

  Obviously, the thought that he would return to check on his property from time to time hadn’t occurred to her. And now that he’d brought it up, she didn’t like the idea one bit.

  But she would keep quiet about that. He’d bet on it.

  Sure enough, when he didn’t say anything else, she nodded.

  “Yes, I guess you’re right,” she said finally. Grudgingly. She started the car and proceeded to Signal Street without saying another word.

  He’d called it right. She didn’t want to risk the commission she’d get from a sale. She was only tolerating him for his money, only playing her game.

  Just as he played his.

  After all, it was money—and what he could do with it—that had brought him back to town in the first place. And it was time he got down to business, instead of staying on the road penned up in a car with a woman who made him feel like a sex-starved teenager again.

  Would everyone think the way Tess did? Instead of being impressed by his wealth, would they only want what they could get of it? Maybe that was why Ben Sawyer had played that coming-home-to-your-roots angle with him.

  All week, the things Ben said to him had run around in his thoughts. Why would Ben—or anyone else in Flagman’s Folly—have any other reason to care if he stayed around?

  Ben had been one of the town’s heroes, along with Paul Wright. Ben, the boy voted Most Likely to Succeed, and Paul, the football team’s star quarterback.

  He hadn’t played any sport at all. Or done anything to show he might someday become a success in any area. He’d had no money, no charm. No claim to fame.

  Unless you counted having a mama who made headlines like the one he’d once found scrawled in black marker with his own telephone number below it on the men’s room wall at the Double S.

  For a good time, call Mary Cantrell.

  CALEB REALIZED his great plan to stay in town to talk with folks—to keep from going off alone with Tess—had raised an issue he had never anticipated.

  “Well,” she said as they walked down the center aisle of the pharmacy, sacks in hand, “I think we’ve hit about every business in sight.”

  “Looks like it.” Along with showing him around, she’d spread her business cards and brochures far and wide. “Not such a bad idea, after all. Maybe you’ll get some new customers from the promo.”

  “If they even realize they have it,” she said, sounding almost resentful.

  “They all said they’d talk up your agency to anybody interested in a house.”

  “After that spending spree of yours, they’ll probably forget where they put the brochures.”

  “I did buy the stores out, didn’t I?”

  “Close enough.” She hefted one of the sacks she carried. “Did you really need fifteen razors?”

  “Gifts for the ranch hands back home.”

  “How thoughtful.”

  “I’m a thoughtful man. Didn’t I offer to buy you that box of chocolates?”

  She groaned. “Don’t start on that again, Caleb, please. I told you, the flowers and dishtowels for Mom and the pie tins for Aunt El were enough.”

  “Think your aunt will try them out soon?”

  “How should I know? Let’s get this latest haul of yours to the car, shall we? If we can find another spare inch to stow it.”

  He grinned. She hadn’t wanted him to buy the gifts. He’d expected that.

  As she turned away, his grin faded.

  The walking and the many trips to Tess’s car had shown him he wasn’t ready yet for all this physical activity. As he’d told Ellamae, he felt his aches from time to time. Probably always would, the doctors had warned him, just as he’d always have the awkward limp when he got tired.

  Today’s pain didn’t worry him too much, either.

  The first time they’d exited a building and found his new pint-size fan girls in the vicinity, he’d had a feeling they’d stick around.

  Sure enough, as he looked through the plateglass window of the pharmacy, he could see the group standing on the other side of the street.

  “Oh, Nate,” Tess murmured under her breath. She shook her head and pulled the door open.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her by the elbow. “We forgot to make a stop over here.” As he led her toward the next building, he felt her arm stiffen. Had she planned to skip this last store?

  He slowed his step, knowing he couldn’t insist on her going inside. But he needed to make this one last stop, to take one final shot at following his plan. Because, all morning, he’d felt thrown by the reactions of everyone they’d come across.

  He’d wanted to show folks that money meant nothing to him, because he had plenty. But they’d appreciated his purchases. And they seemed more interested in talking with him about everything from the upcoming Fourth of July parade to their opinions of the politics of Flagman’s Folly.

  It hadn’t made a bit of sense.

  Tess stood staring at him. After a moment, she continued forward, and he fell into place beside her.

  When they reached the automatic sliding doors of the building, she gave a little sigh.

  As if in sympathy, a collective gasp rose from the opposite sidewalk. His fan girls exchanged looks of dismay and rushed into a huddle.

  He smiled. What were they up to now?

  Not waiting to find out, he walked with Tess into the air-conditioned coolness of Harley’s General Store.

  TESS FROZE. And not just because they’d turned the corner into the freezer aisle of the store, either.

  She hadn’t wanted to come in here, hadn’t wanted to meet with Joe Harley while Caleb stood by her side. Until they’d talked to the clerk at the front register, she’d held out hope that Joe had business somewhere else this morning. But, no, there he was, kneeling in front of the frozen-food cooler, rearranging gallon-size tubs of ice cream. Rocky Road.

  A perfect description of her life right now!

  She could have argued about this meeting. And probably should have. But Caleb seemed determined to stop in at every business in town.

  Including Harley’s General.

  Could his single-mindedness in coming here have something to do with Nate’s little announcement at breakfast that first morning?

  She shook off the idea. Sure, Caleb had asked her later if she planned to marry Joe. That didn’t mean he cared about her. Or about any wedding plans she might—or might not—have. He had no reason to talk to Joe. But on second thought, better the two men should meet now, while she could be there to deflect the conversation away from subjects that shouldn’t concern Caleb.

  Joe had risen to his feet. Losing the battle to tug his blue smock closed, he gave up and held out his hand. “Well, now, Caleb. Heard you were back in town. It’s right nice seeing you again, after all these years.”

  “Thanks. Same here.” Caleb gestured. “I’m staying with Tess.”

  Joe frowned.

  “You’re a guest at the bed-and-breakfast,” she said between clenched teeth, giving Caleb the coldest look she could manage.

  “Right. That’s what I said. Your house.”

  Joe looked at her, then back at Caleb. “You planning on staying long?”

  Caleb’s mouth curved slowly in a half smile.

  The sudden shiver that ran through her didn’t come from seeing that. No, it was from all the frosty air billowing out from the cooler. She reached over
and smacked the door closed.

  “Don’t have a definite departure date yet,” he drawled in answer to Joe’s question. “But, I’ll tell you something. Tess’s sweet rolls are so good, they might convince me to hang around a bit.”

  She swallowed a groan. “My mother made the rolls,” she corrected.

  “Did she? I thought you did.”

  “No. I’m too busy selling real estate, remember? Or trying to.” She turned away from him. “Which is why we’re here today, Joe.” She explained about the brochure for Wright Place Realty.

  “Well, sure, I’ll be happy to post one on the community bulletin board up front. In fact, give me a pile of them. And your cards, too.”

  His wide smile puffed up his face like a snowman’s—appropriate enough considering their surroundings, but a poor contrast to Caleb’s chiseled cheeks. She blinked, shoving the unkind thought from her mind even as she pushed a good number of brochures and business cards into Joe’s outstretched hand. She might as well get something out of this humiliating situation.

  “I’ll pass these around at the next town council meeting.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  He looked quickly at Caleb, then back at her again. “And we’re still on for supper tonight, aren’t we? It’s Friday.”

  Caleb turned his head her way as if wanting to see as well as hear her response. She made sure to show him. She fastened her gaze on Joe, and said firmly, “Yes, we’re still on. I’m looking forward to it.”

  A loud bang filled the air, followed by a child’s high-pitched screech.

  “Joe, breakage up front, aisle three,” announced the clerk over the store’s loudspeakers—and over the child’s continuing wail. “That’s Billie Jo’s little one caterwauling. He’s fine, but oh, my…we’ve got dill pickles bouncing everywhere.”

  “Excuse me,” Joe said, backing away. “A store owner’s work is never done. I’ll pick you up at seven, Tess.”

  As Joe left, she turned to Caleb. “That was uncalled for.”

  He shook his head. “That’s harsh, isn’t it? I’m sure the man didn’t mean to be rude. He had to go take care of his pickles.”