by Judy Duarte
“Sounds like you’re still holding a grudge.”
“Shouldn’t I?”
George seemed to chew on that for a while, then said, “Family is important. And for the record, I’m glad you’re part of mine.”
Matt was pretty much George’s only relative—other than Matt’s dad, who rarely visited him, even on holidays. But hell, why would he do that when he’d chosen his second wife’s family over the one he’d had?
“I don’t think you call two people a family,” Matt said.
“You know what they say about quality over quantity.”
“I suppose you’re right, but since I got shut out of the only real one I had, I don’t have the foggiest idea how to create one, let alone be a part of one.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
He’d have to. Things might have been different if his mom hadn’t died when he was too young to remember her, if he hadn’t spent so much time with babysitters or in day care. And it would’ve been a hell of a lot different if his old man hadn’t fallen heart over brains for a woman with a kid of her own. But that’s how it had all come down, and he’d dealt with it the best way he’d known how.
Matt studied the old man who’d become the only father he really cared about, the man he’d come to love. “Did you put that picture of me and Miranda on my dresser?”
“You noticed, huh?” George grinned.
“Being snoopy or nosy isn’t like you.”
George arched a gray brow. “You mad about that?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? You went through my drawers.”
“I did your laundry the day after you left to follow the damned ol’ rodeo. And I figured you weren’t quite ready to throw it away, or you would have.”
Matt let out a humph and slowly shook his head.
George nodded toward the bedroom doorway. “Like I said, Emily’s waiting for you. And I suspect her mother would like to go, too, even if she didn’t mention it.”
Matt hadn’t planned to include Miranda unless she asked. And even then he was reluctant to take her with him.
He might have built a heavy-duty wall around his heart—just ask some of the women who’d thought they’d be able get a commitment out of him.
But that wall had been a lot easier to maintain when Miranda was long gone—and out of sight.
* * *
Miranda hadn’t asked Matt if she could go with him to the veterinary clinic, even though she really wanted to. Emily was going to enjoy the special tour, and Miranda would have loved to be a part of it. But she didn’t want Matt to think that she and Emily were a package deal. And worse, she didn’t want him to suspect that she had any romantic notions about starting up where they’d left off. She knew better than that. So she’d returned to the office to do the payroll, even though it was a day early.
She’d barely gotten started when a soft knock against the doorjamb sounded. She looked up from her work and spotted Matt in the open doorway, wearing a sheepish grin.
“I can see that you’re pretty busy,” he said, “but did you want to go to the clinic with us?”
She tamped down her enthusiasm and said, “Sure. If you don’t mind. It sounds like fun. And my office work can wait.”
And now here they were, entering a veterinary clinic with their delighted daughter, pretending to be a family, when they were anything but.
While Matt sat in the waiting room, Miranda studied his profile, the blond hair, neatly cut and styled, collar length, but not as wild as he’d worn it nine years ago. His eyes, as blue as the summer sky, were framed with thick dark lashes a woman would die for—pretty lashes their daughter had inherited.
He seemed so different from the guy she’d once loved, yet at the same time, there was a bit of the old Matt in him. And he hadn’t shaken that cowboy swagger. If anything, he’d honed it, and she found it sexier than ever.
No wonder women flocked around him, eager to have a chance to spend some time, if not the night, with the champion bull rider.
Miranda rested her hand on her baby bump, which served as a nice reminder for her to keep those old memories at bay, and scanned the waiting room, with its pale green walls and built-in fish tank. She expected Emily to be immediately drawn to the colorful tropical fish. Instead, the girl zeroed in on a gray-haired man seated on one of the brown vinyl chairs and holding a cat carrier, a gray tabby resting inside.
“Can I see your kitty?” she asked him.
“Of course,” he said. “Do you like cats?”
“Yes. I like all animals.” Emily stooped to peer into the carrier. “What’s her name?”
“It’s a boy. His name is Archie.”
“How come he’s in a cage? Does he bite?”
“Oh, no. Archie’s very friendly. But sometimes, there’s a dog or two in the waiting room. And so I bring him in his carrier, where he’s safe. He’s much happier this way.”
“Oh.” Emily eased closer to the animal.
Miranda glanced at Matt, saw a grin curling his lips. He seemed to be as proud of their daughter as she was. And as intrigued by her friendly manner.
As if sensing Miranda’s assessment, Matt turned to her and smiled. The glimmer in his eyes was that of a proud daddy, but then it shifted, morphing into the kind he used to shine on her. As their gazes locked, her senses reeled and her heart darn near stopped. Old memories popped up, taking her back to the days when things had been different between them. When she and Matt had envisioned a future together.
“Why is Archie here?” Emily asked the cat’s owner. “Is he sick?”
“He was, but he’s feeling better now. We came in for a checkup, and we’re just waiting to pick up his medicine.”
The door to the back office opened, and a woman walked out holding the leash of a German shepherd wearing a plastic cone around its neck.
Emily’s interest piqued, and she approached the dog’s owner. “What happened to your dog? Why is it wearing that thing?”
The woman, her graying hair pulled up into a topknot, smiled. “It looks a little silly, doesn’t it? But Dr. Rick put this on Sophie to keep her from licking or chewing her stitches.”
Before Emily could question the dog owner further, a blonde wearing blue scrubs came to the reception window. “Dennis, here’s Archie’s prescription. You’ll see that Dr. Rick lowered the dose this time.”
The older man got to his feet, and with the cat carrier firmly in hand, approached the opening. “Thanks, Kara.”
When the door squeaked open again, Rick entered the waiting room and greeted Miranda and Matt. Then he turned to Emily. “Are you ready to check out my clinic and see where I work?”
“Yes!”
“Then let’s go.” Rick stepped away from the doorway, allowing the child inside, then motioned to Miranda and Matt. “Come on, Mom and Dad.”
As the two awkward parents fell into step behind the veterinarian and their daughter, Miranda was tempted to reach for Matt’s hand, to pretend they were the family Rick assumed they were.
But she knew better than to rock the boat.
* * *
As they entered the clinic, Matt glanced at Miranda, who mouthed, Thank you, as if he’d done her a favor.
He nodded to acknowledge her words, but he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. He’d just coordinated a tour for their daughter. Or was she thanking him for including her?
If truth be told, he’d been reluctant to bring her along—and for a slew of reasons. But he couldn’t think of a single one of them right now.
“These are the exam rooms,” Rick said, pointing out three of them as he led the way through the clinic. Next, he showed them a pharmacy area and a small laboratory, where he let Emily look through a microscope at a blood smear.
Matt glanced at Miranda. Maternal pride glistened in her eyes.
Yeah, he decided. She had been thanking him for including her this afternoon. And in spite of dragging his feet about it earlier, he was glad that he had.
Rick led them to a glass window that provided a view of the operating suite. “If any animals need surgery, this is where it takes place.”
They then headed to the boarding area, where several furry patients were recovering or waiting for their owners to pick them up.
“Oh!” Emily said, as she pointed to a cage that housed a mother cat and six nursing kittens. “What’s wrong with them?”
“That’s Mama Kitty. At least, that’s what we’re calling her. Kara, my vet tech, found her wandering around in her neighborhood and assumed she was a pregnant stray. The babies were born yesterday. She has a leg wound, which I’m treating. Once it heals, I’ll take her to our animal rescue center out back.”
“Then what?” Emily asked. “Will they live there forever?”
“No, only until we can find them good homes.”
“I have a good home for them.” Emily turned to her mother, eyes pleading. “Can we take them back to the ranch and keep them?”
“All of them?” Miranda laughed. “I’m afraid not. You’ve already pushed your limits with poor Uncle George. He’s taken in enough strays as it is. And we don’t want to wear out our welcome until we find a place of our own.”
Did she plan to move to Brighton Valley? Matt wondered. If so, it would put some distance between her and her father, which would be good for her and for Emily. Good for him, too, he supposed. It would make it easier for him to see Emily.
And to see Miranda.
He stole another glimpse at the woman who’d rocked his teenage world. He’d been nineteen and a senior back then. And he’d had his choice of girls. But it was the new girl in school, a pretty dark-haired sophomore, who’d first caught his eye and soon stolen his heart.
Falling for Miranda had really complicated his life back then—in both good ways and bad.
She cast a look his way, caught him gazing at her and blessed him with a pretty smile that could turn a man inside and out. But he shook it off the best he could.
As they continued through the clinic, Rick pointed out his office, with its solid oak desk adorned with antique brass and a Mac computer on top. Then he led them to the back door and took them outside, where a six-foot high chain-link fence encircled a small white house.
“This is the animal rescue yard,” Rick said. “I used to live in that house before Mallory and I got married.”
Upon their approach, several dogs ran to the fence, barking and wagging their tails.
“You rescue dogs?” Emily asked.
“And cats, rabbits, a goat and, right now, we have a potbellied pig.”
The front door of the house swung open, and a balding older man walked out. He squinted, then lifted his hand to block the sun from his eyes and grinned. “Oh. Hi, Doc. I wondered why Scout and Beauty were barking up a storm.”
Rick introduced them to the tall, slender man as Roy Dobbins, Kara’s grandfather.
“Roy’s retired,” Rick explained, “so this setup works out well for all of us.”
After seeing the dog runs out back, as well as the Kitty Hotel, Matt thanked Rick for showing them around.
“No problem. It was my pleasure.”
As they returned to the truck, their shoes crunching on the graveled parking lot, Emily sidled up to him and slipped her hand into his. “That was so awesome. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I was glad to do it. I had a feeling you’d like to see a real veterinary clinic.”
She gave his hand a squeeze, then looked up at him with an adoring gaze that shot right through his heart. “You’re the best daddy ever.”
Matt could have walked on air, had his bum leg not held him back, and he shot a glance at Miranda. Her pretty brown eyes glistened as if she were holding back tears. Happy ones, it would seem, and they touched him in an unexpected way.
For a moment, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. Not her abandonment and his heartbreak. Not an eight-year-old secret she never should’ve kept. Not even the fact that she was having another man’s baby.
Damn. If he wasn’t careful, if he let down his guard, she just might complicate his life all over again.
Chapter Seven
As Matt backed out of the clinic parking lot, Miranda settled into the passenger seat feeling a lot more comfortable and at ease than she had when they’d started out.
“Thank you,” she said.
Matt shot a glance across the seat. “No problem. I knew Emily would enjoy it. And that she’d learn a lot.”
“I did!” Emily said. “That was the best field trip ever.”
Miranda waited a beat, then explained what she’d actually been thanking him for. “You didn’t have to include me, but I’m glad you did.”
“Yeah, well...” He shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
As he shifted the truck into Drive, Miranda added, “Rick is a great guy, and he clearly loves his work.”
“That’s true.” Matt turned to the left, instead of turning right onto the road, which would have taken them home. “I hope you don’t mind, but Uncle George asked me to pick up a prescription for him at the pharmacy.”
“Another one?” Miranda asked. “That’s odd.”
“Why do you find that so unusual?”
“I suppose it’s not, but George always told me that he rarely goes to the doctor. Besides, a few days ago, I found a discarded white pharmacy bag. So I’m pretty sure this is a second prescription. Unless it was yours.”
“It wasn’t mine.”
Miranda furrowed her brow. “I hope he’s not sick.”
“No,” Matt said. “He has an ingrown toenail that’s infected.”
Men like George didn’t often take care of themselves. Or seek medical attention. So if his toe bothered him enough to see the doctor, it might be more serious than he’d let on.
She thought about voicing her concern, but decided to confront George instead.
Minutes later, Matt pulled down Brighton Valley’s tree-shaded main drag and parked in a space near the pharmacy, which was located a couple doors down from Caroline’s Diner.
“It won’t take me very long,” Matt said. “You guys can wait in the truck if you want to. But if you come inside with me, I’ll buy you an ice-cream cone.”
“I’ll come in with you,” Emily said. “I love ice cream.”
So did Miranda. She hadn’t visited the old-style pharmacy since she’d been a teenager. In fact, she and a girlfriend had been eating French fries and drinking cherry colas when Matt first approached her and asked to sit beside them at the counter. Both girls had plans to meet a couple of their classmates for a study group at the library, and it was almost time for them to go. But when Miranda looked into those gorgeous blue eyes, when she saw that dimpled grin, she’d opted to stay behind.
“Do they still have that soda fountain along the side wall?” she asked Matt.
“They sure do. The tourists and the locals would throw a fit if they didn’t. But I don’t think they offer food or fountain drinks anymore. Both the cook and the woman who used to work behind the counter retired, and the owner hasn’t been able to find a replacement.”
“That’s too bad.”
“They still serve ice cream, though. And it’s just as good as you remember.”
After getting out of the pickup, they entered the charming old pharmacy that had maintained its 1950s style while offering all the latest products and medications. Miranda took a deep whiff, relishing the familiar scent of sweet vanilla laced with something clean and medicinal.
Matt nodded toward the counter that ran along the wall. “Why don’t you two have a seat while I pick up George’s prescription?”
Miranda steered Emily toward one of the red vinyl upholstered swivel seats that sat in front of the long white counter. “You’re going to love this, honey. This was one of my favorite things to do when I used to live in Brighton Valley with your grandfather.”
“It’s too bad you had to move away from here,” Emily said. “Brighton Valley is a fun place to live. I like it a lot better than San Antonio.”
So did Miranda. There was a lot to like about the small town, and it hadn’t been her idea to leave. She stole a peek at Matt who stood in line, waiting to speak to the pharmacist. She couldn’t help admiring the way the sexy cowboy leaned into the counter, the way he’d tilted his hat.
As much as she’d have liked to put Matt at the top of her list of reasons to stick around in town permanently—or at least indefinitely—she knew better than to let him sway her decision. In four short months, she’d be a single mother of two. And he’d still be a handsome rodeo star with his choice of women; a fun-loving man who was always ready to throw back a beer or to circle the dance floor, two-stepping the night away.
But if he wanted a relationship with Emily, which seemed to be apparent, it might be best if she did move back to Brighton Valley—or at least to the general vicinity.
But what would her father say when she told him she wanted to work from home, that she would rarely come to the office in San Antonio?
There’s no way he’d agree. She’d heard his speech enough times to recite it verbatim. Mija, my dad came to the United States as a young man with only the clothes on his back and a gunnysack carrying his few belongs. He had guts and grit and ganas—desire. He wasn’t educated, so he worked in the berry fields. But he was bright. He learned the ins and outs of farming, literally from the ground up. And by the time I graduated from high school, he’d saved enough to send me, his only son, to college.
Miranda remembered her grandfather, an older man with sun-ravaged skin, stooped shoulders and a warm smile. A man her papa loved and respected.
As a tribute to my papa, I excelled and received an agriculture degree with a business minor. And then I went home, where my father and I worked and saved so we could purchase enough fertile acreage to plant berries. Together, we built our business for you, mija. And one day, it’ll all be yours.
