Lone Star Daddy

by Stella Bagwell

  God, she’d not really known the man at all. And yet all she had to do was look at Jonas and she instinctively knew he was a man who would never take his responsibilities lightly, that he would put others before himself. Or was she seeing only what she wanted to see? she thought doubtfully. How could she know such things about Jonas Redman? Was she fooling herself again? Still, she couldn’t deny a bond was forming between them.

  “I just want a healthy child,” she answered. “That’s all that matters.”

  “I suppose your doctor is in Santa Fe. Do you plan to go up there to deliver?”

  Alexa shook her head. “No. My doctor referred me to a good physician in Ruidoso. I wanted to be close to home when the baby is born.”

  Jonas nodded that he understood and then focused his attention on the two-lane highway winding through the pine-covered mountains. After several minutes passed in silence, Alexa was convinced his thoughts had moved on to other things, until suddenly he spoke again.

  “Alexa, I know this is none of my business, but I can’t help thinking about the baby’s father. Is he going to be around? I mean, when the baby is born?”

  A grimace tightened her features. “No. He’s been out of my life for—well, for several months now. He…It turned out he wasn’t ready for a wife and child. And it was easy to decide that I needed to move on.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  He sounded as though he truly was sorry that things hadn’t worked out for her, and Alexa was touched by his sincerity. Maybe since he’d gone through a divorce of his own, he understood how humiliating and crushing it was to discover that love wasn’t what you’d dreamed and hoped it would be.

  But she hadn’t really loved Barry. She’d pretended. She’d tried to convince herself that he made her heart beat fast, that he was the man she wanted to grow old with, share her dreams with. She’d believed living with a man that held a similar job to hers would make everything just perfect and happy. She’d been utterly wrong about that, about him, and so many other things.

  “Please don’t feel sorry for me, Jonas. I’m much better off without Barry in my life. He wasn’t good for me.”

  “If that’s the case, then why did you—”

  “Get involved with him?” Alexa finished for him. “That’s a good question. I thought he was a good man. But he turned out to be totally different than I’d first believed. Has that ever happened to you?”

  His expression grim, he stared straight ahead. “More times than you can imagine.”

  Ten minutes later they entered Ruidoso and, figuring Alexa had no interest in joining him at the feed store, Jonas offered to drop her off wherever she’d like.

  He left her at a small dress boutique on Main Street, then drove to Rogers Grain and Tack on the east end of town. As he maneuvered the truck through the traffic, he wondered what was wrong with him. He shouldn’t have asked Alexa about her ex-beau or whatever the hell the man had been to her. The guy was none of his business. Neither he nor Alexa had anything to do with Jonas’s reason for being in New Mexico. So why wasn’t he thinking about his job instead of about a pregnant ranching heiress?

  Because something about her reminded him of all the dreams and plans he’d once had for himself and Celia. Like the children they would have and making a little ranch into a fine place to raise them. Jonas had the little ranch now. But not the children or the wife. And he had no one to blame for that but himself, he thought grimly.

  Five minutes later, Jonas parked the truck in front of the feed store. As he stepped inside the store, a cowbell clanged above the door. To his immediate left, a middle-aged man with graying hair stood behind a long glass counter. Along the back wall, two cowboys were rifling through rows of hanging bits and spurs.

  “Afternoon,” the man behind the counter greeted. “Can I help you with something?”

  Nodding, Jonas explained why he was there, and the clerk motioned for him to step behind the counter and follow down a narrow hallway to the right.

  “The feed is in the back, in the grain room. You’re welcome to look all you want,” the clerk said as they passed through a wide wooden door. “Sales on the stuff are beginning to pick up. ‘Course, it always takes something new a while to catch hold. You know how some people are—-want to stick to tradition.”

  The grain room, as the clerk called it, was a huge, barnlike area with high ceilings and a wooden planked floor. Tons and tons of sacked grain, feed and seed were stacked to the rafters. Across the way, a pickup truck was backed up to a loading dock. A tall man with black hair and a handlebar mustache was standing to one side, while a worker loaded the truck with sacks of cooked oats, which were most commonly fed to racehorses.

  “Well, I manage the Chaparral for the Cantrell family,” Jonas explained to the clerk. “Quint’s considering changing the feeding program for the horses.”

  The clerk stopped in front of a particular pile of sacks and opened one that was already sitting on the floor. Reaching into the heavy paper sack, Jonas pulled out a handful of pellets and lifted them to his nose. They smelled fruity, and he figured the sweetness would please the horses.

  “Oh,” the clerk said in a friendly way, “you must be the new man Quint told me about. You come from Texas, he said.”

  “That’s right.” Jonas gestured toward the feed. “How much would a ton of this stuff cost?”

  “Don’t know. These days the cost fluctuates almost every day—what with the cost of fuel and all. I’d have to figure it up for you. But you have to remember, it only takes half as much as regular feed. Cuts your cost in two.”

  “You say you’re from Texas, mister?”

  The blunt question came from behind Jonas, and he turned to see the man with the mustache standing a few steps behind him. There was a clench to his jaw and a flinty look in his eye that said he was just itching for a fight. Which didn’t make any sense. Jonas had never seen the man before in his life.

  “I did. San Antonio.” He wanted to ask the man if he had any problem with that, but having a saloon fight in a feed store wasn’t a part of his duties as a Texas Ranger. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

  “You managing the Chaparral now?” the man asked curtly.

  “Right again,” Jonas said coolly.

  The man’s jaw grew even tighter. “Good! Because I want to know what in hell your men thought they were doing when they cut the fence to my back pasture!”

  Leaving the stunned clerk behind, Jonas closed the space between him and the angry cowboy. “Maybe you’d better explain. I’ve not heard about any cut fence.”

  “Three weeks ago I found a herd of mama cows belonging to the Chaparral on my property. The fence was cut in two different places, then patched back with wire that wouldn’t hold. Me and my hands spent a whole day repairing it and another day running your cattle back where they belonged.”

  The cogs in Jonas’s head were suddenly turning. “Sorry. I didn’t catch your name, mister.”

  “This is Tyler Pickens,” the clerk interjected as he introduced both men.

  Diplomacy and a need to gather all the information he could forced Jonas to say, “Well, Mr. Pickens, I apologize if any of my men caused the problem. I would have thought you’d have let Quint or me know about this problem before now.”

  “Everybody knows Quint isn’t at the Chaparral anymore,” Tyler retorted. I tried contacting him over at Abe’s place but could never catch up to him. The old man told me that I needed to talk to you.”

  Damn it. This could have been the break Jonas needed, and he was learning about it three weeks after the fact.

  “Why haven’t you talked to me before now?” asked Jonas.

  “I was away from the ranch for a couple of weeks. I’ve had other things to do—or so you ought to know,” Tyler snarled.

  Jonas did his best to remain cool. Finding rustlers was a far bigger priority to him than giving this man an attitude adjustment.

  “Well, now that we’re talking, I can
assure you that the Chaparral will be more than glad to cover any fencing costs and labor spent on your part. I take it your property runs adjacent to the Chaparral?”

  “Two miles of it.”

  “Can you show me the spots where the fence was downed?”

  “Damned right!” Tyler cursed. “It’s not far off the road. Maybe a hundred yards or more. I can’t understand it. Quint’s hands have never been a rowdy bunch before.”

  “What makes you think they cut the fence?” Jonas countered.

  The agitated rancher threw up his hands. “Who else? That area is several miles off the beaten track. Wouldn’t be any reason for anyone else to be back in the mountains.”

  “What about your own hands?” Jonas quizzed. “Would they have any reason to cut the fence?”

  “Hell, no! They don’t like building fence any better than I do!”

  Reaching into his jeans pocket, Jonas pulled out his wallet and fished out a card. Handing it to the rancher, he said, “My name is Jonas Redman. My telephone number is there. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call whenever you have time to show me the area where the fence was down. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Quint about this and come up with compensation for your time and material.”

  Suddenly Tyler’s expression relaxed, and he shook his head. Apparently now that he had vented his steam, he wanted to forget the whole matter. “No need for that. Quint and his family have always been good neighbors. I guess it wasn’t his fault that some of your hands decided to pull a prank.”

  Jonas was more than certain the incident wasn’t a prank. But he could hardly relate such a thing to this man, who might in turn say something to his men. Before long everyone in the county would be talking about cattle rustlers, and the persons behind the crime would likely be alerted.

  “Mr. Pickens, have you lost any cattle in the past few months?” asked Jonas.

  “No. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Nothing,” Jonas muttered. “Just give me a call whenever you have a chance. I’d be grateful.”

  Jonas was late getting back to the boutique. When he pulled the truck into a parking space Alexa was already sitting on a bench in front of the little shop.

  Before she had a chance to lift herself and the bags she was holding, he hurried over to assist her. “Sorry I’m late, Alexa. It took longer than I thought to order the feed.”

  She smiled at him. “No need to apologize. I’m enjoying the beautiful sunshine and being out among people.”

  He lifted the bags from her lap, then with a hand beneath her elbow, gently helped her to her feet. Today she smelled like a rose, and her hair was piled in curls atop her head. Loose tendrils tickled the back of her neck and touched the silver hoops dangling from her ears. She was the softest, sexiest woman he’d ever been around. Yet her condition constantly reminded him of her vulnerability and how much he wanted to protect her.

  None of these feelings made sense to Jonas. Especially when he understood that he couldn’t act on them. Yet he couldn’t seem to stop the unbidden emotions. Not a good thing for a man who always liked to be in control of a situation.

  “I see you’ve done some shopping,” he commented.

  She laughed softly. “Some things to wear after the baby comes. Hopefully, I’ll look like a woman again instead of a barrel.” She looked at him. “What about the feed?”

  “I purchased two ton. The store will be delivering it to the ranch this evening.” He glanced at his watch, then on up the sidewalk. “Is there some place around here where we can have coffee or something before we head back?”

  “There’s the Blue Mesa up the street,” she suggested.

  “Can you walk the distance?” he asked.

  She folded her arm through his. “Of course. It’s only a block from here.”

  The day was sunny and very warm, and the sidewalk was full of people visiting the local shops, which constituted a large portion of the mountain tourist town. As they walked along, Jonas couldn’t remember a time he’d strolled along a sidewalk in the afternoon with a woman on his arm. He and Celia had gone places together but had only hopped from the car into a restaurant or store, and that had always been at night. This walk with Alexa felt very different. Very family.

  On the next block, they reached the Blue Mesa, a small restaurant constructed of pine logs. To the left of the building, outdoor tables and chairs were grouped on a wooden deck.

  “Would you like to sit inside or out?” Alexa asked. “Either is fine with me.”

  “The day is beautiful. Let’s stay out,” he said.

  She smiled as though she wholly approved of his choice. “Great.”

  With his hand at her back, they climbed three short stairs to the deck, then chose a spot in one corner, where shade dappled the table. A small stream tinkled several yards below them.

  While they waited for their orders, Jonas brought up his encounter at Rogers Grain and Tack. “I met your neighbor at the feed store.”

  Her brows arched with curiosity. “Oh? Which one?”

  “Tyler Pickens.”

  She grimaced. “Oh. Yes, his spread is north of ours. I think it connects to Chaparral land in a few spots.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  A comical frown puckered her forehead. “You sound like a detective or something.”

  Jonas forced an easy smile to his face. It had been a long time since he’d gotten personal on an undercover assignment. He needed to remember not to let his questions sound practiced. “Sorry. It’s just that Mr. Pickens and I didn’t have what you’d call a warm meeting. He was hotter than a cur dog at roundup. Someone cut the fence—he thinks it was Chaparral hands.”

  Alexa was clearly insulted. “That’s ridiculous. Our men would never destroy someone else’s property, or ours. We don’t hire those sorts!”

  Frankly, Jonas didn’t think so either. He’d been around the men for almost a month now, and all of them appeared to be responsible guys.

  “I tried to smooth his feathers. And I’m going to have a look at the places where the fence was downed. Apparently some Chaparral cattle got onto his land, and he wasn’t too happy about it. Has this sort of thing ever happened before?”

  Alexa thought for a moment. “No. Not that I can remember. But then, while I lived in Santa Fe I heard only bits and pieces about the happenings on the ranch.” She sighed, then shook her head. “But I wouldn’t worry about Ty Pickens. Everyone knows he’s a recluse of sort. He doesn’t like anyone even looking across his land, much less stepping foot on it. No wonder the man isn’t married. He’d be hell and then some to live with.”

  To Jonas’s amazement, he felt a prick of jealousy. Which made no sense at all. He didn’t have any rights to Alexa. And he never would. “Sounds like you know the man personally.”

  Before Alexa could reply, a waitress arrived with their orders of cherry pie and coffee. Once she’d served them and moved away, Alexa answered, “Not at all. Down through the years we’ve tried to be friendly with him, and he showed up at a few functions that my parents hosted on the ranch. But he’s one of those quiet sorts that no one really ever gets to know. You know what I mean?”

  “Exactly.”

  For the next few moments they ate in silence. Yet in spite of the lack of conversation, Jonas found his gaze drawn back to her lovely face. For the past six years, since his divorce from Celia, he’d not felt much attraction toward any woman. In fact, he’d mostly put dating on the back burner and promised himself that someday, when his job didn’t consume his life, he’d try being a husband again.

  But being a Ranger was who he was, what he was. His marriage to Celia had ended because he’d not made enough time to share with her. He’d tried, but obviously it hadn’t been enough to suit her. He couldn’t yet find the courage to go through that hellish push and pull with another woman. No matter how much he wanted her.

  “So do you have family back in Texas?” she asked as she lifted the cof
fee mug to her lips.

  “Two siblings. An older sister, Bethany, and a younger brother, Bart,” he said. “My father died nearly twenty years ago, and since then my mother has remarried and moved to California.”

  “Oh. And here I was feeling sorry for myself because I lost my father last year,” she said sheepishly. “You must have lost your father at a very young age.”

  “I was fifteen. His death changed my life,” he said honestly.

  “What happened to him?”

  Jonas knew he should keep his words measured, but he couldn’t. Alexa was the first person he’d met in a long time that he wanted to talk to.

  “He died of a sudden heart attack. You see, Curtis Redman was a police chief. He lived under an enormous amount of stress, and it got to him.”

  Sympathy was in her eyes as she scanned his face. “After going through something like that, it doesn’t surprise me that you’d want to be a rancher rather than follow your dad into law.”

  Jonas stared at the remainder of his pie as a sense of guilt washed over him. He wasn’t being totally dishonest with her. He really was a rancher. He owned several hundred acres just east of San Antonio, and he raised cattle and a few horses on the land. He just couldn’t tell her that his father’s death had done the very opposite of what she suspected. It hadn’t turned him away from being in law enforcement; it had pushed him straight toward being a Ranger. His father had needed competent officers on his roster, but none of the moral, upstanding men of the community had wanted to take jobs in law enforcement and put their lives on the line. After he’d died, Jonas was determined to spend his life serving rather than taking.

  “I like ranching,” he murmured. “And the Chaparral is a nice place to work.”

  To his surprise she reached across the little table and touched her fingers to his. “I’m glad you think so.”

  He’d messed up, he thought. He should have never followed Reena’s hint and invited Alexa to join him on this trip to town. But damn it, he’d been thinking of her all week and he’d been so busy he’d hardly had a chance to see her, much less speak to her. He’d told himself he needed to spend a bit of time with her this afternoon, just to make sure she was doing well. He’d not planned on their time together feeling so intimate, so good that he didn’t want it to end.