The Heart of Hill Country

by Sherryl Woods

  “But she came back.”

  Luke nodded. “Exactly my point. We just had to be patient and wait for her to realize this was where she belonged.”

  “And that took how long?”

  “Six years,” Luke admitted.

  “I am not waiting six years to claim my son,” Clint exploded. “Can you see me commuting from my ranch to here every blasted month just to get a look at them? How am I supposed to convince her of anything from hundreds of miles away?”

  “Maybe your absence will do the convincing.”

  “We were separated for seven months. You’ve been around since I caught up with her. Do you see any sign that she’s mellowing?”

  “Seven months is a drop in the bucket. Like I said, Angie’s stubborn. We all are.” He smiled. “But I think she’s worth waiting for, don’t you?”

  Clint muttered a curse. “Yes,” he conceded eventually, “but I still think it’s a lousy idea. She may decide she can get along without me just fine.”

  “That is a risk,” Luke agreed.

  Clint shook his head. “It’s not one I’m willing to take.”

  “I do have one other idea,” Luke said, “but I’m not sure how well it will sit with you.”

  “Try me. I’m a desperate man.”

  “You could come to work with me.”

  Clint stared at him. “Here? In Texas?”

  Luke grinned. “That is where my ranch is.”

  Clint was shaking his head before the words were out of Luke’s mouth. “That’s very kind of you, but no, I can’t do that. My place is in Montana. I can’t let it fall idle, and I can’t expect my foreman to go on running it by himself forever.”

  “Let him hire somebody to help, or let him buy you out.”

  “Not a chance,” Clint said vehemently. “I’ve worked all my life to own a spread of my own. I’m not walking away from it.”

  “If you marry Angie, my ranch would be yours one day, anyway.”

  “No,” Clint said. “It would be hers. I appreciate your offer, but I can’t accept it,” he repeated.

  “Don’t be stubborn,” Luke said impatiently. “One of you has to break this impasse.”

  “And you think I’m more likely to bend than she is?” he asked with reluctant amusement.

  “Experience would suggest it,” Luke concurred. “Just don’t rule it out. It might be the bargaining chip you need.”

  “You’re giving Clint bargaining chips?” Angela asked from the doorway. She was clearly exasperated with the pair of them. “Who’s side are you on, anyway, Daddy?”

  “Just trying to get you two off dead center,” Luke said cheerfully. He stood up and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Talk, darlin’. Nothing’s solved by silence. I ought to know.”

  Angela sighed as he left, then shot a wary look at Clint. “Tell me about this bargaining chip.”

  “It’s not an option,” Clint said. “Are you sure you feel up to being downstairs?”

  “If I’d had the baby in a hospital, they’d have kicked me out days ago. Obviously the greatest medical minds in the world don’t regard childbirth as a debilitating illness.”

  “That isn’t what I asked. Can’t you ever give a straight answer?”

  “My, my, you are testy this morning. Daddy must have struck a nerve.”

  “I could do without the dime-store psychology.”

  “There’s a shrink in Los Pinos who charges more. Care to try her?”

  “You know, angel, you are trying my patience.”

  She didn’t appear worried about that. “So?”

  “It’s a very dangerous path to take,” he warned.

  “Really? What happens if I test your patience? Will you storm off to Montana?”

  So that was her game. He regarded her with sudden amusement. “It’s not going to work, angel.”

  “What?” she asked, her expression all innocence.

  “I’m not going to blow a gasket and abandon you here, even though that appears to be what you’d like me to do. Nor are you going to goad me into a display of temper that will have your family taking your side against me.”

  “Oh, well,” she said with a shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

  She began to load a plate up with waffles and fruit. When she would have skirted past him and taken a seat on the opposite side of the table, he snagged her hand. The gesture caught her off guard. It took only the slightest jerk to have her tumbling straight into his lap. He caught the precariously tilting plate in one hand and set it safely on the table. His other arm circled her waist and held her secure.

  There was fire in her eyes, when he met her gaze.

  “Clint Brady, don’t you dare.”

  “Dare what?” he inquired lazily.

  Color bloomed in her cheeks. “Whatever you were thinking of doing.”

  “I was thinking of doing this,” he said quietly and slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing yet another protest.

  She gave a token shove at his chest, then sighed against him. Her mouth opened to his. When the tip of her tongue grazed his lips, he almost exploded. He’d meant to seduce her, meant to catch her by surprise with her defenses down and remind her of what they’d once had together.

  Instead, she had twisted things around the way she had a habit of doing. He was the one off-kilter. He was the one who couldn’t seem to catch his breath, whose blood was thundering through his veins.

  Mystified by how she’d done it, he stared into eyes full of mischief, eyes that reminded him of Hattie.

  Suddenly he tired of the game, all of it. Carefully he lifted Angie and set her in her own chair, then gave it a less than gentle shove to put a few inches of additional space between them.

  She looked startled, then confused, then hurt. He pushed away from the table and stood, as anxious as she for once to put some distance between them.

  “I’m going...” His voice trailed off. He didn’t know where he was going or what he intended to do. He just had to get out of this room.

  “Clint?” she whispered, her expression suddenly worried.

  He didn’t answer, because for the first time in his entire life he was at a loss for words.

  15

  A cold, empty feeling settled over Angela as she watched Clint walk away from her. He’d sounded so final when he’d said he was going, as if he’d given up, as if he might be leaving for good.

  Well, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? It was what she’d prayed for, that he would go and leave her and her baby alone. What did they say? Be careful what you pray for, because it could come true.

  She sat at the table staring at her cold waffle and unappetizing fruit and tried very hard to convince herself that it was best that he was heading back to Montana. If he couldn’t love her back, then what was the point of prolonging this agony?

  But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself to let him go, a part of her kept envisioning the loneliness of a future without him. Seattle had been awful enough with her nights filled with dreams of the man she’d left behind and her days just time to be gotten through.

  At least in Seattle she had known somehow that he was still searching for her, and in some awful, perverse way that had been enough to keep her going. It had given her hope that he hadn’t given up on her, that they would be together again someday.

  OK, maybe she was a fool, maybe she didn’t have a smidgen of sense, but she couldn’t let him leave, not without telling him how she felt. If he still wanted to go, if he couldn’t bring himself to ever trust her again, well, so be it. At least she would have tried. Not trying would doom her to a lifetime of what ifs.

  She hurried to the stairs, cursing the fact that there were so many of them and that she was so darned stiff and sore. It seemed to take her forever to get to the top.

 
; She rushed straight to Clint’s room and knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she ignored everything she’d ever been taught about privacy and threw the door open. He wasn’t there. In fact, there was no sign of him at all. With her heart thudding dully, she peered into his closets and released a sigh when she saw that his clothes were still inside.

  He hadn’t left, then, but she was sure it was only a matter of time.

  Where could he be, though? A smile touched her lips as she came up with the only logical answer. Closing his door gently behind her, she crossed the hall to her own room where she’d left a doting Consuela keeping an eye on the baby. She opened the door, then hesitated, immobilized by the scene before her.

  Clint was there, in a rocker by the window, the baby cradled in his arms. Clinton Daniel looked so tiny against that massive chest, so tiny and so very safe and secure. The picture brought a lump to her throat.

  Clint glanced up then and his gaze locked with hers. “Quiet, angel. I just got him to sleep.”

  She tiptoed across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “How’d you get Consuela out of here?”

  “I told her I was starving. She went to fix me a hearty breakfast.”

  Angela stared. “But you just ate.”

  He shrugged. “So, I’ll eat again. I figured it was the safest bet for getting some time alone with my son.”

  Angela forced herself to keep a light note in her voice when she asked the question that had been plaguing her. “Are you saying goodbye?”

  The question seemed to take him by surprise. He searched her face intently, then asked, “Would it matter to you if I was?”

  She swallowed hard against the tide of vulnerability that washed over her just thinking about giving a truthful answer. There was no choice, though. She had promised herself she would deal with him honestly, something she should have done from the first.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “It would matter to me.”

  “Why, angel?”

  This was it, then. It was time for the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “Because I’m in love with you.”

  A knowing smile began at the corners of his mouth and spread. “Oh, really?”

  She nodded.

  “Say it again,” he prodded. “Your father’s said it. Your mother’s said it. Even your uncle’s told me that, but I want to hear it again from you.”

  “Look, dammit...”

  He grinned. “That’s more like it. You were sounding a little out of character there for a minute, all docile and sweet natured.”

  She regarded him ruefully. “I’m afraid I will never be docile.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “But I will be honest, Clint. I swear to you that there will never be another lie between us.” She searched his face, trying to gauge his reaction. “Is that enough?”

  “Enough for what?”

  “Enough to make you stay, enough for you to trust me again.”

  He sighed. “Angel, trust will always come hard for us. We got off to a rocky start on that score.”

  Her pulse seemed to slow at his dire prediction. It was her fault, too. The unforgettable, unforgivable Hattie Jones fiasco would always stand squarely between them.

  “I see,” she said, defeated.

  He reached over and tucked a finger under her chin. “No, darlin’, I don’t think you do. Just because you have to work at something doesn’t mean it’s bad. I’ve always worked for everything that’s important to me. The way I see it, nothing’s more important than our future. I’ll do whatever it takes to see that we overcome every obstacle the past has put in front of us. What about you? Do you believe our family’s worth fighting for?”

  Angela blinked back tears. She tried to form an answer, but the words simply wouldn’t come. Finally she just nodded.

  “Was that a yes?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, then lifted her gaze to his. Tears blurred her vision, but her voice was firm when she repeated, “Yes.”

  He gave a nod of satisfaction, then grinned. “Angel, you never asked, but there’s something I think you ought to know.”

  A fresh burst of trepidation had her heart skipping a beat. “What’s that?”

  “This isn’t just about the baby. It never has been,” he said quietly. “I do love you. I tried not to, but it was like trying not to breathe. If my arms weren’t occupied at the moment, I’d show you just how much.”

  She grinned. “I could put the baby back in his cradle,” she offered.

  “And risk having him start fussing again? I don’t think so.”

  Despite Clint’s protests, she took the baby anyway and settled him into the beautiful cradle his father had bought for him. He didn’t so much as stir.

  “At least your son has his priorities straight,” she said, slipping onto Clint’s lap. “Now let’s work on yours.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my priorities,” he grumbled, but he didn’t complain when she feathered kisses across his forehead, then sought out his mouth.

  Angela kissed him with all of the yearning and passion she’d been saving up during their months of separation. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal beneath her hip and the thundering of his heart where her hand rested against his chest. His heat and the purely masculine scent of him surrounded her, carried her back to another time and another place when the two of them had been all that mattered.

  “I do love you,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I know.”

  “Always did.”

  “I know.”

  She pulled back and scowled at him. “You don’t know everything, Clint Brady.”

  “Maybe not, but I know the only things that matter. You and me, that boy of ours, family, ranching.”

  “See,” she said triumphantly. “Your priorities are improving already.”

  “That’s because I have such an outstanding teacher. Your motivational skills are excellent. Anytime you’d care to give me another lesson, I’m up for it.”

  “Maybe we’d better wait for our honeymoon for the lesson I have in mind.”

  His expression sobered. “Darlin’, I’m not so sure we can fit a honeymoon in just now. I’ve already been away too long.”

  She was sure he was prepared to offer a whole laundry list of reasons why their honeymoon would have to be postponed, so she silenced him with another slow, lingering kiss.

  “On the other hand,” he began, his voice husky.

  “If you’d let me get a word in here,” she said, “I think I have a solution.”

  “By all means.”

  “We could honeymoon in Montana. It’s certainly the most romantic spot I’ve ever seen.”

  “You want to honeymoon on the ranch?”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing it won’t be much of a honeymoon with me working and the baby with us.”

  “Consuela can look after the baby and I can help you work.”

  “Darlin’, far be it from me to turn down such a generous offer, but you do have a very strange notion of what a honeymoon ought to be.”

  “Maybe more people ought to start their marriages the way they intend to live them. Could be honeymoons just set up a lot of false expectations that get ruined when the day-to-day realities set in.”

  “An interesting philosophy, but won’t you be disappointed years from now when our kids ask what we did on our honeymoon and all you can tell them is that we worked our ranch?”

  She shook her head. “No, because that’s how we’re going to make it our ranch, with me doing my part from the beginning.”

  He still looked skeptical.

  “I mean it, Clint. This is what I want.”

  “OK,” he said eventually, “but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?�
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  “For our fiftieth anniversary, when we’ve turned the ranch over to our kids, we go around the world. We will make love in every romantic spot you’ve ever dreamed about.”

  “The only romantic spot I’ve ever dreamed of is in your arms,” she confessed.

  “Then we’re off to a good start, angel, because I’m never, ever letting you go.”

  * * *

  It was amazing how many strings could be pulled when the Adams name was mentioned, Clint concluded as he watched White Pines being transformed into an indoor garden for a New Year’s Day wedding. The same crowd that had shown up on Christmas Day, despite a blizzard, was scheduled to return today, despite the competition from football and New Year’s Eve celebration hangovers.

  A part of him felt guilty that he would be taking Angela and his son away from all this, but she had assured him over and over that Montana was where she truly wanted to be.

  Luke had grumbled at the choice, but had finally agreed that he would send Consuela along with them to help with the baby for the first month, just as Angela had predicted he would. Since the housekeeper rarely let the boy out of her sight now, Clint wondered what would happen when the time came for her to return to Texas. What the heck. Maybe they could persuade her to stay.

  He gazed into the mirror and tried to reconcile the image of the man in the tuxedo with Clint Brady. He was so spiffed up he hardly recognized the once-poor cowboy who’d never paid a lick of attention to his clothes, if the money could be better spent on feed for the cattle.

  “You ready, son?” Luke called out.

  Clint opened the door to his room and found his future father-in-law and Harlan pacing the hallway. They, too, seemed to be anxious to get out of these monkey suits and back into working clothes.

  He met Harlan’s gaze evenly. “Thank you, sir, for agreeing to be my best man.”

  “Son, nothing could have made me prouder. I know if your family’d been able to get here on such short notice, you’d have asked one of your brothers, but I’m glad to fill in.”

  “No,” Clint said. “You deserve the honor. You’ve been more than fair to me from the minute we met. A lot of men in your position wouldn’t have been. The same goes for you, Luke. I hope I’ll never let you down.”