"Mom." It was said in the tone Addie used to warn her mother that she should stop talking. Paula didn't have any intention of stopping now, though.
"John told me that Cal has lived on the ranch for twenty years, almost as long as John has. And that Cal is one of the best cattlemen in the county. He said he's trustworthy and honest, too."
"Well, he can be as honest and trustworthy as he wants," she said, looking embarrassed, which Paula thought odd. And interesting. "As long as he doesn't interrupt my getting the house restored. I'm not sure I'm going to keep the animals, anyway."
"You just said—"
"For now, Mom. I won't make any changes for now."
"That's good," Paula said, noting the stubborn tilt to her daughter's chin. "Because if you're intent on moving into that old monstrosity of a house, you're going to need all the help you can get."
* * *
She'd seen him again and she hadn't died of embarrassment. That had been one accomplishment for the day, Addie decided. She dropped her mother off at her condominium, in an elegant, gated community just south of Round Rock, where her mother lived among other fifty-somethings in an oasis of swimming pools, hot tubs and tennis courts. She promised she would call her in the morning, promised she would let her know what she could do to help with the move, promised not to rush into any hasty decisions and also promised that she would try to get a good night's sleep. Yes, she'd promised, she would think about having a glass of wine before bed, just to make sure she would sleep.
And then she'd taken the boys to the grocery store, where they splurged on frozen pizza, root beer and cookies—tonight's supper. She also bought three more boxes of saltine crackers and two bottles of ginger ale, just in case tomorrow morning brought another queasy spell. She also managed to grab every decorating and remodeling magazine on the racks at the checkout stand, mostly for inspiration but also to cover the pregnancy test kit lying on the bottom of the shopping cart.
She'd seen him, she thought again later, after the boys were fed and sleeping, and no doubt dreaming of the horseback rides the old cowboy had promised them on their next visit to the ranch. She'd seen the man who had carried her across two parking lots and a field to take her to bed. A bed from which she'd run as soon as passion cooled and she'd realized what she'd done.
Addie skipped the wine and fixed peppermint tea instead. She took a notebook, her magazines and her father's bank statements to bed with her. She would make lists, she would add figures, she would stop thinking about the pregnancy test and the man who'd reappeared in her life today.
Call house inspectors, she wrote. She needed someone to go over the house and tell her what needed to be repaired or replaced.
Find repairmen who work in Nowhere. Waco was closer than Austin, so she might have to look there.
Get Waco phone book.
Quit job. That would be a joy. She'd managed to make the insurance settlement from Jack's death stretch by working evenings for a cleaning company. She cleaned offices from six to ten, four nights a week, while the teenager in the next apartment took care of the twins and put them to bed.
Decide what property to sell. A real estate agent should be able to give her advice. Kate might know someone reliable.
Call Kate. She'd already told her best friend about her father's will. Kate had listened to her guilty confession about the forty minutes at the motel, given her a tissue and a hug and welcomed her to the "weird world of dating." She'd hold off telling her about the reappearance of Motel Man, though. With any luck, he'd ride off into the sunset and she'd never have to face him again.
Buy Mom a new car. Addie knew exactly what her mother wanted, too. That was an easy one to take care of.
Decide what to take to Nowhere. If anything. The boys' beds would go, as would their toys and bookshelves. She would pack up the kitchen things, but the furniture wasn't worth moving. She would keep the Oriental rug her mother had given her, and she would bring her china and crystal, those rarely used wedding gifts that would finally have a place of honor in a dining room. She and Jack had been saving for a house before the twins were born, so the wedding china hadn't seen the light of day for years.
Take test. Pray. She would read the directions before she went to sleep. Tomorrow would be The Day. And she would deal with whatever the little stick displayed.
Keep clothes on. Addie crossed that one off as soon as she wrote it, then went back to scribble over it so it couldn't be read. Her reaction to Cal's presence was anything but sane. One look at the man and she wanted to press herself against him and feel those strong arms wrap around her. She wanted that warmth again, that feeling of being wanted and possessed. Irrational, yes. She was a woman with responsibilities and a code of behavior that didn't jibe with one-night stands.
Decide on a moving day. The sooner the better. Addie leaned against her pillows and closed her eyes. She might have never known her father, but he had given her and her sons a chance at a wonderful new life, and for that she was very, very grateful.
No matter what happened.
So the next morning, while the boys were eating cereal and watching cartoons on television, Addie watched the pregnancy test results and learned that she was going to have a baby.
So much for condoms. And just her luck to have been on the receiving end of a defective one, which must have been what had happened. Surely a man Cal's age knew how to use one properly. He'd had all the other moves down pat. Her body had responded to every touch and caress, every passionate moment.
She nibbled on crackers and sipped ginger ale, all the while wishing she could tolerate a strong cup of black coffee. She needed caffeine, and she needed to decide how she would handle having a baby without a husband. Women did it all the time, she realized, but that didn't mean it was easy. Raising Ian and Matt without a father was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life. But she could do it again. Especially now that she didn't have to worry about money, and she had a home, a real home, to give her children.
Maybe this child would be a girl. Addie thought of pink dresses and lace-ruffled socks, hair bows and pastel blankets. And then she thought of her burgeoning stomach—surely she'd be showing in about three or four months—and what Cal would think. Would she tell him? Maybe she wouldn't have to. Maybe he'd be long gone by the time she started looking like there was a basketball under her shirt and he could put two and two together and come up with "father."
She would wait. She had plenty of time. There were more immediate problems, such as when she would tell her mother. And exactly what she would tell her mother. I was abducted by horny aliens. I used a sperm donor and a turkey baster. I had wild sex with a stranger on Valentine's Day.
Paula would believe none of it.
"Who just left?" Cal watched John walk across the yard from the main house.
"Cleaners." The old man grinned. "It took them four days, but that old house is shining for the first time in a long time."
"I thought I saw a furniture truck." Cal didn't know where Adelaide Larson got her money, but she sure as hell could spend it.
"Yeah. I let them in about an hour ago. Some beds came, and a washer and dryer. I thought there'd be more, but I guess Miss Addie is going to wait 'til the house is fixed up before she buys more new stuff."
"They still moving in today?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look casual, but John gave him one of those eagle-eyed stares, as if he knew that Cal had ironed his shirt and taken extra care shaving this morning.
"Yeah. Should be any time now."
"I guess I'd better get back to work," he said, but he didn't move. She would be living only a few hundred yards away. He wished he knew more about her. Was she a Saturday night party girl who made a habit out of picking up men in bars? Somehow he doubted it. But if he'd learned one thing about women in his nearly forty years, it was that you couldn't tell by looking at one what they were like. The quiet ones could fool a man, all right.
"Stick around," John sai
d. "She's going to need our help."
"She's going to need a lot of help," Cal pointed out, gazing at the peeling old Victorian, with its gables and peaked roof, its north addition and the wide porch that ran along the front and one side. He hoped for Addie's sake that it was sturdy and worth the trouble to fix it up, if that's what she really wanted to do.
"That's why she's got us." John winked at him.
"We're not carpenters. Just painting the outside of that house is going to be a full-time job. I hope she can afford it."
"I wouldn't worry about that. The mother told me that Ed left his daughter 'nicely settled' in his will. 'Nicely settled,' that's how she put it."
"You and Mrs. Johanson are talking a lot?"
"We keep in touch. She's been helping Miss Addie get things organized." John kicked a clod of dirt. "Anyway, she said not to worry about the ranch, that her daughter could afford to run it, least for a while."
"Well, that's a relief." Maybe. He still wasn't sure if he would stick around. "Who'd have thought that Ed had two pennies to rub together?"
"He was an odd duck, all right," the old man declared. "But he was good to me, and he didn't have much reason to be." John's lined face broke into a smile. "Here they come, son. Hang on to your hat, cuz life's about to change!"
"Like that's news?" Cal quipped, having thought about those changes for the past two weeks, ever since he'd seen Adelaide Larson for the second time in his life.
Sure enough, three cars came up the driveway, clouds of dust trailing in their wake. The sky was bright blue, and the sun beat down with the scorching intensity of July, not April. Adelaide Larson had herself a hot day to move into her new home, but Cal suspected she wouldn't let it bother her. He'd seen her from a distance before today; she'd carried a clipboard and a measuring tape. Sunglasses hid her eyes and a wide, straw hat covered her hair, and sometimes she talked into a cell phone. He had the feeling she was going to make things happen here on the Triple J. She'd been here several times in the past two weeks and she hadn't sought him out, so he guessed she didn't have any questions about the cattle operation.
Or she was avoiding him. Which was just fine. He watched the cars come to a stop. Someone honked a horn when John lifted a gnarled hand in greeting. The boys tumbled out the back door of Addie's old station wagon, at the same time a tall brunette—Cal thought she might be the same woman he'd seen Addie with at Billy's—climbed out of a black SUV. Mrs. Johanson opened the driver's side door of a new, red Chevy pickup. Hopping down, she called something to Addie, who by now stood in the driveway and watched the little boys chase each other around the old soap kettle on the front lawn. She wore khaki shorts and a black tank top that raised Cal's temperature another ten degrees.
"Looks like we've been invaded," he muttered to John, but the old man had already headed toward the women. Cal hesitated. He watched the kind of family scene of which he had no part and felt like he was ten years old again, on the outside looking in. It was the kind of thing that made him want to turn on his heel and head in the opposite direction so he wouldn't have to feel so bad. He was fine, Cal assured himself. Going on forty and perfectly content.
Except in times like this. He couldn't walk away, though. Not with three women and one old man unloading boxes from the back of the pickup. He had no choice but to start moving toward them.
"Hey! Mr. Cal!" One of the little boys waved to him and started running in his direction. The other boy was just about ready to go headfirst into the kettle, but Cal didn't think there was anything that could hurt him. It should have held flowers, but Ed hadn't been much for spending money on things that weren't absolutely necessary.
Cal caught the kid before he plowed into his abdomen. "Hi, there," he said. "Which one are you?"
Brown eyes stared up at him. "I'm Ian. You can't tell, can you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Mom said we hafta call you Mr. Cal because that's polite."
"Well, you have to do what your mother says." Cal figured that was a safe enough answer.
"Yeah." The boy grabbed Cal's hand and tugged him toward the driveway. The little hand around Cal's fingers was warm and very soft. "My gramma got a new truck and I got to pick it out. And my mom says that Matt and me get our own rooms, but we like sleepin' together so we said no and she said okay."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Sounds like a plan," the boy repeated, clearly thrilled with the phrase. "Yeah, sounds like a plan." He walked Cal right to his mother, who smiled politely and said hello, before he ran off to join his twin in the grassy section of the front yard.
"Hello," was the only brilliant thing Cal could think to say. He lifted the large cardboard box out of her arms and pretended he didn't notice that his fingers had grazed the bare skin of her arms. She smelled like vanilla and roses, a scent he remembered from that night. Her skin was pale, and there was a fragile look to her that surprised him.
"Thanks." She gave him a quick smile and didn't meet his gaze. Clearly she was as uncomfortable with him as he was with her. And neither one of them could forget that night. She quickly introduced her friend Kate, whose arms were full of bedding. "Kate, this is Cal McDonald. He works here with John."
"Nice to meet you," the brunette said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"
"Kate," Addie said, darting a look at her mother to see if she was listening. Paula was deep in conversation with John, while the twins had turned their energy into walking up and down the front porch steps. "Don't."
"I'm sorry." She laughed and shook her head. "I'll behave. Where do you want these sheets and blankets? And when do I get a tour of this mansion?"
"Right now." Addie picked up another box from the back of the truck and headed across the lawn to the front door. "You won't believe the foyer. Or how many rooms there are. Follow me and prepare to be amazed."
Cal followed behind Kate, but his gaze was on the little blonde ahead of her. There were ten or twenty reasons why the woman was off-limits, and yet the vision of her naked and against his body wouldn't go away.
He was only human.
And he obviously needed to get off the ranch more often.
* * *
Chapter 5
«^»
"Where do you want it?"
Addie turned and saw Cal standing in the doorway of her new bedroom. He held the ornate, white iron headboard she'd bought in Austin last week, along with new beds for the house and other extravagant necessities. She'd splurged on a king-size mattress, too, which leaned against one of the walls. Now, with Cal walking into her bedroom, she thought the size of the bed could be misconstrued. I'll be sleeping here alone, she wanted to say. I have no ulterior motives, and will be sending out no invitations.
She really wished someone else could put her bed together, but there was nothing to do but accept the fact that Cal was here and prepared to help. And she needed all the help she could get. So she pointed to the large expanse of wall between the two east windows. "Over there, thanks."
He carried it inside, making sure he lifted it above the freshly scrubbed wooden floor, and set it against a faded pink wall that was destined for new wallpaper. He made another trip, but not alone. Kate carried the other end of the pair of bed frames.
"That's one heck of a formal staircase," she said, panting a little after setting the frame down in the middle of the room. "You can make quite a grand entrance."
"It is dramatic, isn't it? Especially with the chandelier hanging down from two stories. Like something in a magazine."
Kate nodded. "Exactly. Too bad you only have sons. This would be a great place to get married."
"You're welcome to use it anytime," Addie teased, knowing full well her friend wasn't interested in settling down. Cal went over and scooted the bed frame into position.
"I might surprise you." Kate turned to look at the cowboy. "Hey, Cal? Do you need me anymore?"
"No, but thanks for the help."
"Anytime." She winked
at him and laughed in Addie's direction. "I haven't decided which one of the guest rooms up here is mine. Any suggestions?"
"There are three on the other side of the stairs, so take your pick. I've taped color swatches in each room for the painters, if color means anything to you. The one farthest back has the twin beds, and the other two are queens."
"Okay. Good luck with the bed, you two. I'm going back to the kitchen. Your mother and I are bonding over cooking equipment and the organization of your pantry."
"The fun never stops," Addie said. "I'll pay you back with dinner. What are the boys doing?"
"John took them for a walk. He's an old sweetie, that one." And then Kate was gone, leaving Addie alone with Cal again. She would have to learn to be comfortable around him, she decided. There was no other choice, not for right now. Not unless one of them left the Triple J.
"So," she said, sounding determinedly cheerful. "Can I help you with that?"
He didn't look up from tightening the bolts that held the metal frames together and also connected the headboard. "No."
"Okay." She felt a trickle of perspiration run down her back. She would have this house air-conditioned if it took every last dime of her inheritance. The room, large as it was, felt stuffy and close in April. What would it be like in August?
"I'm almost done."
"No hurry," she lied, taking a sip from the water bottle she'd left on top of the pine dresser, the one article of furniture she'd brought from her Austin bedroom. She'd finished filling the drawers with her clothes and had set a framed photo of Jack on top, along with the boys' baby pictures.
"Are we going to get to know each other, Addie, or are we just going to keep pretending we're strangers?"
She turned to face him. He tucked his wrench in his back pocket and went over to one of the box springs. The salesman had explained that twin frames held twin box springs, over which was placed her padded king-size mattress. "We already know each other a little too well."
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