Expecting the Cowboy's Baby

by Charlene Sands

  Like a white knight.

  “‘Come to the rodeo today,’” she murmured, a finger tracing the words slanting over the mirror.

  And while her mind screamed a loud, impending no, her heart pounded out another message entirely. She’d go to the rodeo today and see Jake one more time.

  Cassie planted herself down on a stadium bench at the River Stampede Rodeo. The pass Jake had left for her at the gate would give her the best view of the events, being closest to the chutes, in the V.I.P section, the ticket taker had stated with a wide smile. Cassie sat, her back to the hot afternoon sun, amid the dust of dry earth and the smell of ranch animals penned up in their stalls. The arena, only half a mile from the riverfront hotels, swarmed with people. She peered at the crowd of smiling faces, the majority of them jeans-clad and wearing Western hats, all anticipating the upcoming events. The stadium began filling up and Cassie moved over when an older man took a seat next to her.

  “Appreciate it,” he said with a tip of his white hat. She smiled, noting the man had a rugged face, weathered with deep lines around his eyes; a man who had obviously enjoyed the outdoors most of his life. “First time to the rodeo?” he asked.

  Surprised by his quick appraisal, she chuckled. “How did you know?”

  “Got the look of a first-timer, is all.”

  “I’ve always wanted to come, just never had the chance before.”

  “Sit back and enjoy yourself,” he said. “First timers are always in for a treat.”

  Cassie knew seeing Jake again would be a treat, but a forbidden one. She shouldn’t have come. She could have been halfway back to Los Angeles by now, tying up loose ends and getting ready for her new job. Yet she was here and anxious to watch Jake compete.

  An hour later Cassie gasped in horror as a bareback rider was tossed off a bucking bronco right in front of her section of seats. The cowboy flew high in the air before landing on the hard-packed dirt. He stayed there for a while before being helped up.

  “Do you think he’ll be all right?” she asked, turning to the man seated beside her.

  “Sure enough. He’ll be sore as hell, but he’s not limping, so I imagine he’ll be right as rain. He won’t feel the true brunt of that fall for about twenty years or so.” The man winked.

  Cassie nodded, wondering if Jake’s event would be as risky. She didn’t think she could sit here and watch while he put himself in danger. From all she knew of the rodeo, which wasn’t too much, she believed roping calves wasn’t so much about danger but skill and timing.

  Minutes later they announced the calf roping event and Cassie came to full attention. She watched patiently as the first three cowboys entered their times. But then they announced Jake’s name and Cassie rose from her seat, her heart fluttering when she caught sight of him in the chute.

  The impact at seeing Jake again was even more potent, more heart-wrenching, than she’d anticipated. She told herself to leave now, to get out while she still could, but Cassie didn’t have that much willpower. Mesmerized, she watched him mounted up on his horse, sitting tall with rope in hand and one smaller one between his teeth, ready to compete.

  It happened so fast, the calf dashed from the chute and Jake tossed the rope, jumped down from his horse and raced over to “flank the calf,” a means of throwing the calf down, Cassie learned from her rodeo friend seated beside her. In a whirlwind of efficient motion, Jake tied up three of the calf’s legs then bounded up with arms outstretched, signaling the judges that he’d completed the run. All in all, it took a matter of seconds, but Cassie’s keen sense told her those seconds were profound, and not just for Jake.

  The scoreboard flashed. Seven point five seconds, the best score posted yet. Jake tossed his hat in the air, waving to the crowd, obviously extremely pleased with his score. Cheers went up all around the arena.

  Cassie kept her eyes focused on Jake, watching him take long, purposeful strides, retrieving his hat from the ground then jamming it back on his head. He gave the crowd one last wave before disappearing into the chutes again.

  She swallowed hard, slammed her eyes shut, then felt herself swaying. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not with all the plans she’d made for her future.

  “Whoa, little lady.” A strong hand righted her.

  She opened her eyes to find her rodeo friend beside her, marked concern etched in his crinkled eyes. “You all right?”

  “Uh, no,” she said softly. “I’m not all right. I have to go,” she whispered. “I have to get out of here.”

  Cassie pushed her way out of the aisle, ran down the steps of the stadium and raced to her car in the dust-laden parking lot. She fumbled with the lock, then opened the door and sat down in the seat, her heart racing with dread. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and started the engine.

  The motor revved to life.

  But Cassie only sat there, in stunned silence, her mind fighting a losing battle with her heart. She didn’t want this. She couldn’t believe her bad luck. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall victim again. But all of her resolve had crumbled like unsteady walls in an earthquake. She’d never felt this way before, this quivering nerve-racking, all-out powerful jolt that hit her with incredible impact. She knew it meant only one thing.

  She’d fallen deeply in love with Jake Griffin.

  Five

  Cassie pulled off Highway 395 onto a private paved road that led to another road, this one taking her deeper into the Carson Valley and closer to Anderson Ranch. Packed up to the ceiling with boxes of her belongings, she’d driven her Bug for over eight hours, leaving her family, friends and Los Angeles behind. She’d said a sorrowful goodbye to Brian and Alicia earlier this morning, each one misty-eyed, each one trying to be happy for her. She’d made a promise to Brian that she’d call often and that she’d be fine. Not to worry.

  Her brother had only grimaced, giving her a tight squeeze.

  Once she’d gotten out of the city, she’d felt better, brighter, and a little less sad. And now, seeing the open spaces, the tall meadows groomed only by animals grazing the land with a backdrop of mountains and clear skies devoid of smog, Cassie smiled.

  She drove her Volkswagen Bug through wide white arches that claimed Anderson Ranch with big, bold, black letters. Cassie drove farther then braked to a quick stop when she viewed the ranch house.

  Visions of the television show “Dallas” came to mind, of the ranch named Southfork, and she nearly expected to see J.R. Ewing stepping out of the double doors. The house, more a mansion of sorts, stood in the center of what Cassie believed to be the largest ranch she’d ever seen. The acreage that surrounded the house seemed to go on and on until only the tall, pine-dotted mountains called it to a halt. And the house itself was stately with broad white columns, a two-story combination of adobe and masonry that spelled wealth and elegance.

  This is where she’d work. This is where she’d put the past behind her. This is where she’d try to forget about Jake Griffin, the man who kept popping into her life to break her heart. It had been three weeks since she’d seen him—three of the longest weeks of her life. Cassie’s focus now had to be on her new job and her new living arrangements. She hoped to fit in well and maybe even make a few new friends along the way.

  She’d make a fresh start.

  Cassie parked the car and approached the door, her stomach clenching. Nerves, she told herself. Before she could knock, the door opened. “Miss Munroe?”

  A tall, tanned man with salt-and-pepper hair studied her. His face appeared rigid, as though he didn’t know what a friendly smile could do, and his dark eyes seemed relentless. His eagle-like scrutiny was tempered only by the quiet tone of his voice.

  Cassie’s stomach did a little tumble. She’d been queasy all morning and she attributed the sensation to the stress of the move, the tearful farewell and the long drive. Looking at this man only heightened her queasiness. “Yes, I’m Cassandra Munroe.”

  He nodded and put out his hand. “John T.
Anderson.”

  “Oh, uh, Mr. Anderson.” Cassie took his hand and engaged in a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He backed away from the door, allowing her entrance. “Come in.”

  She followed him into the parlor, but he didn’t offer her a seat. He turned when he reached the mantel of a gigantic, white-stone fireplace. “You come highly recommended. I understand Lottie, my…well, she used to be my assistant until the fool woman decided to retire. Lottie Fairchild says you’re from around here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sir seemed to fit. The man commanded respect. Cassie’s stomach did another little flip-flop. “I was born and raised just outside of Reno. I lived there for twelve years. I’ve always wanted to come back.”

  “Good. I like that. Don’t place much trust in city folk. We got a big spread here. We’re a stock contract ranch. We raise bucking broncos mostly, to breed, to sell and to rent out to the rodeo. It’s a place where rodeo animals come to rest up during the off-season or between rodeo runs. Got some steer and calves here, too. There’re a lot of transactions going on all the time.” He sighed, glancing at her as if suddenly suspicious. “You’re almost a mite too pretty to be an accountant.”

  Cassie blushed, the heat rising up her neck to burn her cheeks and adding anxiety to her already-blinking stomach. She didn’t know how to respond. Was he giving her a compliment or doubting her ability? “I have a head for numbers. Always have. For instance, I can tell you that I drove exactly four hundred, thirty-six miles to get here. I passed five waterholes on my way in, counted twelve oaks lining the entrance to the property, you’ve got seven buildings including the house on your land and that Garth Brooks is probably your favorite country singer.”

  He raised a brow in question.

  “You’ve got four of his CDs behind you on the mantel.”

  “Oh, Lottie gave them to me.” Then the man cracked a small smile, enough for Cassie to see his dark eyes light up some and his face soften. “That’s not bad. You’re gonna fit in around here, Miss Munroe.”

  Cassie grinned. She’d passed the test, she supposed, but her stomach wasn’t smiling. And now her head felt funny, as if she were floating on air. She put a hand to her belly, wishing this wasn’t happening. “Uh-oh. I don’t feel so good.”

  Mr. Anderson reached for her, taking her arm. “Darn my bad manners. I didn’t offer you a seat or something to drink. You’ve been on the road for hours. What can I do?”

  “The bathroom?”

  He held her arm and guided her to a room just off the parlor. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Cassie barely made it inside to lock the door before she heaved. Her muscles clenched and when she was all done, her stomach was better and she felt human again. Except for the embarrassment. Well, she sure made a memorable first impression, didn’t she?

  Cassie washed her face then reached into her bag to reapply lip gloss. She ran a brush through her hair, tidied up her skirt and blouse, then walked back into the parlor.

  “In here,” she heard Mr. Anderson call.

  She headed for the sound of his voice, finding him in a large room on the opposite side of the house. Mr. Anderson sat in a bulky, chocolate-brown leather chair behind a no-nonsense mahogany desk. Dark panels made up three of the walls with inlaid shelves housing a mass of books. Deep burgundy-velour drapes partially covered two bay windows that looked out upon the ranch.

  Cassie would say it was definitely a man’s room.

  “Come in and have a seat. Feeling better?”

  “Yes, much better. I think it was car sickness or something.” She took a seat in a smaller leather chair facing him.

  “Good. Marie is setting up a light supper on the veranda. And after we eat, I’ll show you to the guest house. We just need to go over some things in your contract and have you sign on the dotted line. Lottie assures me you’re agreeable to the conditions?”

  “Yes, it’s all been worked out.”

  He nodded. “Take a look at this.” He turned the contract on his desk her way and gave it a little shove. “Read it over and let me know if you have any questions.”

  Cassie took a moment to read what was expected of her. The salary was more than generous, considering she’d be living rent-free in the guest house, and everything else seemed to be in order. “No, no questions. This is what we agreed upon.” Anxious to start her new job, Cassie picked up a pen and signed the document.

  “Great,” Mr. Anderson said, standing. “You must be hungry. Let’s go get us some grub.”

  Cassie stood in the center of the “guest house” living room, shaking her head. The place wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. She’d had visions of a small, cozy, cabin-like home where there would be no mistaking typical ranch-style living. But this house was decorated in modern rustic, with adobe-colored walls and the furniture barely hinting at its Western heritage. There was an open, airy feel to the place that sent endorphins swimming through her body. The minute she’d walked in, she knew she’d love living here. And the place was actually larger than most L.A condos. Highlighting the living room was a red-stone fireplace and two matching sofas set in soft hues of beige and peach. The house had two good-size bedrooms, a master with its own bath, a full kitchen with a nook overlooking the mountains to the east and a full dining area. There was a small built-in bar halfway between the living and dining areas. The other bedroom Mr. Anderson had designated as her office complete with a computer, fax machine and two phone lines.

  He’d explained that Lottie had done her work in an office in the main house, but both had figured Cassie would like her privacy. He’d also explained there were no set hours to the job. When she was through with her work, she was free for the rest of the day. He didn’t expect her to work on the weekends, unless there was something pressing that couldn’t wait until Monday.

  Cassie let out a long, contented sigh, feeling more at peace now that the initial meeting was over. Her stomach was much better and the anxiety over her job was all but gone.

  Her car was parked inside a small garage attached to the house. She’d brought in only one suitcase, far too tired to think about unpacking tonight. She’d worry about the rest of her stuff tomorrow. Cassie planned to take a quick shower, change into her nightclothes and go straight to bed. Glancing out the window, she chuckled softly. “The sun’s barely setting and you’re going to bed.”

  This was what she’d wanted—to live easier, simpler and with less stress. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling a bit lonely. “Tomorrow, Cassie Munroe, you are going to start your life.”

  Jake Griffin turned the key in the lock and entered the dark solitude of his home. Exhausted from the long, grueling drive back from Colorado, all he wanted to do was to strip out of his clothes and get some sleep. He littered clothes from the front room, tossing his boots and shirt aside, his pants made it to the hallway and, by the time he got to his bed, he was down to his briefs. He tossed the covers aside and climbed in, resting his head upon his pillow and closing his eyes.

  A familiar scent drifted by, a soft, subtle, fragrant smell that brought back memories of the woman he’d been trying darn hard to forget.

  Cassie Munroe.

  Jake squeezed his eyes shut tighter and scoffed at his addled brain. Fatigue, he figured, lowered your resistance, because he’d made a great effort in the past three weeks to put the woman and that weekend behind him.

  A soft feminine sigh, the barest of sound, had him turning toward the far end of his king-size bed. Jake blinked and rolled a bit closer, wondering if the apparition was real or some trick of his imagination. No trick, he realized immediately. There was a woman in his bed.

  And as he took a better look, relying on a slim sliver of moonlight edging its way into the window, there was no mistaking who she was.

  Cassie Munroe.

  A dozen emotions whirled around, creating havoc in his head, his gut and his groin. Stunned, Jake could only stare. Cassie was in a deep sleep. He’d watched
her sleep before and the sight of her sexy body, so serene and peaceful in his bed, brought forth many questions. Why was she here? Why had she come to him?

  He’d been royally ticked off when she hadn’t come to the rodeo as he’d asked. He didn’t quite know what he’d say to her, what he’d expected, but he had wanted to see her again. Anger had surfaced then and all of his stubborn pride wouldn’t allow him to call her in Los Angeles. He figured he’d served his purpose by taking her to her brother’s wedding. She’d had no use for him after that.

  Jake was accustomed to being abandoned. He’d dealt with rejection all of his life. He wasn’t that needy kid, looking for love any longer. In truth, he scoffed at the notion. In Jake Griffin’s world, love didn’t exist.

  But after the incredible night they’d shared making love, Jake hadn’t expected Cassie to run out on him. Okay, maybe his ego had been bruised. But he’d wanted to say something to her that day. He’d wanted to ask her if he could see her again if he happened to visit California?

  Hell, he didn’t know. The woman made him nuts.

  And now, she was lying next to him in his bed.

  Jake edged himself closer and the immediate impact, the way he responded to her, had him silently swearing. His body hadn’t forgotten her. Hard and tight, Jake rolled away, a mental debate going on in his head whether he should wake her or not. He ruled in favor of sleep. Morning was just hours away.

  He’d find out soon enough what Cassie Munroe wanted from him.

  Six

  Cassie had slept the sleep of the dead. She’d never been so tired in her life. She lay there reluctant to open her eyes to welcome the new day. Just another five minutes, she told herself, then she’d bounce out of bed and start unpacking. The thought made her sigh and she rolled onto her side, grasping her pillow, snuggling in, but something solid, unyielding and vaguely familiar stopped her.