Ultimate Texas Bachelor

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “I don’t deserve you,” she said thickly. Fresh tears started as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the sheet. “And I want so badly to—” She paused, shook her head miserably, seemingly unable, or maybe just unwilling, to go on.

  “Is this because of how your husband made you feel?” he asked as he sat up beside her, really wanting to understand. “Because I swear, if it is—”

  She drew in another deep, shaky breath. “It has nothing to do with him,” she confessed, finally able to talk more calmly. “It has to do with the fact that I am not the sainted person you think I am.”

  LAINEY SAW THE LOOK on Brad’s face and knew he thought the problem was one of damaged self-esteem. If only it were that simple, she thought unhappily. “It’s just…I’ve gone about this all wrong,” she tried to explain in a voice still coated with tears. And she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the subterfuge. She was trying to be all things to all people and succeeding at none of it.

  Had she started out telling Lewis and then Brad what she had come to the ranch to find out, Brad never would have spoken to her and Lewis certainly never would have hired her or invited her to stay at the Lazy M with Petey.

  Instead, she had let Brad goad her into matching wits with him, and once the sparks had started flying between them, well…it had been as impossible for her to stay away from him as it was for Brad to stay away from her.

  And once she had started falling in love with him, the stakes had increased even more.

  She’d signed a contract…and Lainey did not make promises she did not intend to keep.

  And yet writing a story about Brad and Yvonne and why they really broke up was not something she wanted to do without his permission and approval. But how was she going to get that now…after all that had happened? He was going to think she was just like Yvonne. Pretending to be something—someone—she wasn’t.

  And worse, he would be right.

  How in the world had she ever gotten herself in such a mess?

  Despite everything, she didn’t regret for one minute loving Brad, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Brad’s glance softened. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Your work for Lewis has nothing to do with my relationship with you,” he soothed, still completely misunderstanding the reason for the conflict within her.

  “I know that. It’s just…” She gulped and started as the sound of a pickup truck rumbled through the driveway.

  Brad and Lainey exchanged looks as they realized they were no longer alone. He moved to the window, standing buck naked just inside the curtains, and peered out. “What the…?” He cursed.

  Lainey, who knew they couldn’t get caught in bed together, was already pulling on her clothes. Brad had enough scandal in his life without adding public knowledge of a dalliance with her to the mix. The truth-telling was going to have to wait until later.

  “Who is it?” she demanded, aware she was so distressed her hands were shaking and her knees felt wobbly.

  “A girl I used to date.”

  Lainey blinked, not sure she was ready for this. “Recently?”

  “In high school,” Brad explained with a frown. “Her parents still live in Laramie but she moved to Dallas after she married and I haven’t seen her in…years. She’s with her husband. I only know him slightly—he’s not from around here— I met him at their wedding.”

  Lainey blinked and momentarily stopped what she was doing. “You’re kidding.”

  Brad gave her a deadpan look and then went back to observing. “They’re headed for the front porch and they both look madder than wet hens.” He shook his head, as if his life had gotten so crazy post–Bachelor Bliss that he almost expected the sky to fall in, too. “This ought to be interesting,” he muttered. “’Cause I have a feeling they aren’t looking for Lewis.”

  Downstairs, someone pounded on the front door—rather furiously, Lainey noted.

  Brad opened the window a crack and shouted out, “Hold your horses! I’ll be right down!”

  Lainey finished dressing as hurriedly as she could, pausing to run a brush through her hair. To no avail. Her lipstick had been kissed off. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, nose red from crying. She was, quite frankly, a mess, she noted as she put the clip back in her hair.

  “You don’t have to go down there,” he said, hurriedly tucking his shirttail into his jeans.

  Lainey shook her head. “If I hide, it’ll be worse. Everyone in town knows I’m working out here, and that includes her parents. Hence, they are going to expect to see me.” She slipped on her red cowgirl boots. “Do I look like I’ve just made love with you?” she whispered as the pounding on the front door resumed, even more furiously.

  Brad paused to kiss the tip of her nose and rub his thumb across her lips. He looked as if he wanted to make love to her all over again.

  “Only to me.” He took her by the hand. “Let’s go.”

  Lainey went to the kitchen to finish making the coffee she had started assembling earlier, while Brad hurried to the front door.

  Both tried to act normal as Brad ushered Melinda Farren, née Evans, and her husband Clint Farren inside. Slim, nicely dressed, with shining blunt-cut blond hair, she could have been Lainey’s twin—from the back, anyway. Which was the problem, they quickly figured out as Clint thrust what looked to be a tabloid into Brad’s hands.

  Lainey stood in the front hall, dish towel in hand, aware she was demonstrating remarkable composure given the fact she had just spent half the morning making love with Laramie’s resident heartbreaking bad boy. But maybe that was because Brad had a way of making her feel so loved and cherished, despite the fact he had never once said the words to her.

  “Hey, Melinda. Hi, Clint,” she said pleasantly, resolved she would not add to the scandal sweeping Brad’s life. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m on the cover of a tabloid!” Melinda wailed.

  Lainey blinked. “How did that happen?”

  Melinda pointed at Brad. “Ask him!”

  Lainey looked at the cover. There was a picture of Brad and Melinda back in high school, going to some prom, and then another of two people kissing, presumably now. It was Brad, all right, in the photo, but all you could see of the woman was the back of a head. The caption above it read, Yvonne Rathbone tells all! Brad McCabe involved with married high school sweetheart all along!

  “Well, obviously the kissing photo’s a fake,” Lainey said, studying it closely. “In fact, it looks like one of the publicity photos for Bachelor Bliss with another head superimposed where one of the contestants was.” She ought to know—she had the picture stored on her computer, along with dozens of others. They were in her “Research” file. “See?” Lainey pointed to the mystery woman in question. “This looks like a wig.”

  “The whole story’s a fake!” Brad growled.

  “We know that!” Clint and Melinda said in unison.

  “I don’t appreciate my wife being dragged into your problems, her reputation ruined,” Clint growled. He went chin to chin with Brad.

  “I don’t, either,” Brad said soberly. Sympathy was in his eyes even as he looked at Clint. When Clint relaxed slightly, Brad turned to Melinda. “I’m sorry, Melinda. I’ll contact my attorney, Claire McCabe Taylor, and have her demand a retraction and an apology immediately.”

  “Well, you better do something,” Melinda fumed, crossing her arms. “Because I am not amused by this. And neither is my family!”

  Brad’s temper flared. “You think I am?” he fired back.

  Clint and Melinda stared at Brad. Brad stared back. Then the fight went out of the couple. Brad apologized again, promising to take swift action. The couple, realizing now that Brad had nothing to do with it and was as upset as they were, thanked him and left. But not before Clint Farren offered these parting words: “You better do something to straighten out your life, Brad, or you’re liable to drag everyone you know
down with you!”

  “CLINT’S RIGHT, YOU KNOW,” Lainey said as she and Brad retired to the ranch house kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. She sat down at the table opposite him. “The situation is only going to get worse unless you come forward and tell your story.”

  Brad settled more comfortably in his chair. His knees brushed hers beneath the table. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t.”

  She allowed herself a moment to savor the warmth and strength of those denim-clad knees against her own. Aware how close she had come to confessing everything to him in a most ill-thought-out way, she struggled to regain her own equilibrium. Theirs was a situation neither could have predicted. It was going to take careful handling if she didn’t want to lose everything—for both of them. And right now, despite how guilty she felt, that was much too high a price to pay.

  “Haven’t you heard?” she quipped lightly, trying once again to get Brad to do what needed to be done. She looked him straight in the eye. “The truth will set you free.”

  And that was, after all, why she had first shown up at the ranch. To track down Brad and help him set the record straight once and for all and get his reputation—and his life—back.

  Brad’s jaw set in that stubborn way she knew so well. “There’s no guarantee anyone would believe me, even if I confessed what happened between me and Yvonne.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said.

  “Haven’t you noticed? Yvonne is quite the actress.”

  Except, Lainey thought uncomfortably, when Yvonne was being interviewed she always appeared to be speaking from her heart.

  Which meant, unless Yvonne suddenly was hit with an attack of conscience and confessed all, it would be a “he said, she said” situation. At this late date, it might look as if Brad were trashing Yvonne publicly out of revenge. That wouldn’t help him at all. It would only muddy the waters more. And continue to hurt his reputation.

  “No,” Brad continued, oblivious to Lainey’s thoughts. “The safest way is to proceed through my lawyer, demand a retraction and clarification from the tabloid. Threaten to sue if they don’t do the right thing.”

  “That would take weeks or months to resolve, and in the meantime, lies about you will be spread, your reputation further ruined. You started out a cad, Brad. Now you’re a cheating cad,” she summed up guiltily, feeling more incompetent than ever. If she had been able to keep her emotions in check, she might have been able to convince Brad to cooperate with Personalities. Instead, she had painted herself into a moral corner from which there seemed to be no escape.

  Crying about it wouldn’t help.

  Action would.

  She had to put her own selfish considerations aside and help him see reason. “What’s next for you except more of a downhill slide?”

  Brad quaffed the rest of his coffee and got up to roam the kitchen restlessly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he accused.

  “Oh, yes, I do.” Lainey watched him pour more coffee for both of them. “My father worked as a mechanic in San Angelo when I was a kid.” Able to see Brad was listening, albeit reluctantly, she continued talking about what she never discussed.

  “Tools and parts were being stolen from the garage where he worked, and my dad was framed. He got fired. The owner agreed not to press criminal charges because he felt sorry for my mom and me, but he put the word out that my dad was not to be trusted, and my dad could not get another job because of the allegations. He went on unemployment compensation and when that ran out, he did odd jobs here and there, some janitorial work. But he never got over it, and his attitude on life soured. My mom and dad ended up splitting up because my mom never understood why my dad wouldn’t fight to get back what he had lost. My dad died a bitter, disillusioned man.” She took Brad’s hand. “I can see the same thing happening to you, Brad. False allegations and assumptions like that wear on a person. They rob you of your spirit and your joy.”

  “I’m sorry your dad and your family had such a rough time,” said Brad. “But our situations are not the same, Lainey. I’m already moving on. I’ve got work. And I don’t give a damn what strangers think of me. The people in Laramie know what’s true.”

  “You’re kidding yourself.” Lainey had seen the look on his face when confronted with the latest tabloid lies about himself, the hurt it was causing the other people in his life. As long as the mystery remained…as long as Yvonne kept flaming the fires to fuel her own need for publicity, then it was never going to stop. Long after national interest died, the curiosity of the locals would remain. The citizens of Laramie were too kind, too protective, to ask Brad about it. But they would always wonder what had happened to cause such a scandal. And Brad would know they were wondering why he had behaved the ungentlemanly way he had on TV. The stigma would eat him alive, just the way it had her father, whether Brad wanted to admit it or not.

  “You can’t go on this way,” she reiterated firmly. His need for the truth had put her in reporter gear again. If he would let her, Lainey knew that she could help him.

  “It’s not your decision to make. It’s mine.”

  Despite his bullheadedness, Lainey would be damned if she’d see Brad McCabe end up as bitter and disillusioned and heart-broken as her own father. She had one more ace up her sleeve to get him to tell all. “So you’re not going to tell me the truth about what happened between you and Yvonne, either?” she surmised softly. With a confident smile, she sat back in her chair, lifted her chin and continued. “Never mind. I think I can guess.”

  Brad smirked, not believing her for one red-hot second. “No. You can’t,” he replied, just as implacably.

  “Want to bet?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Here’s what I think happened.” Lainey leaned forward, looking deep into Brad’s eyes. “I think you signed on for Bachelor Bliss, expecting everything to be on the up-and-up, and hoping to find the right woman for you. Instead, from the very beginning, things just weren’t quite right, and there were subtle but unmistakable signs this was so.”

  Brad stiffened, letting her know she had struck a nerve, and she pushed on. “Yvonne appeared to have special treatment from the show’s creator, Gil Hewitt. Plus, she seemed to know things about you that she would have had no way of knowing. And while you no doubt noted this, you were too caught up in taping the show, and playing all the games the producers of Bachelor Bliss had you play, to dwell on it. Until that fateful moment of clarity, when, as you said, you realized Yvonne was not who she was pretending to be. My question is—” she paused to let her words sink in “—what happened to help you connect the dots? Yvonne has been running around accusing you of cheating on her, but I don’t think that’s true. I think maybe the reverse may have been true. So what really happened, Brad? Did you think Yvonne had eyes only for you and then discover she had someone on the side?”

  Bull’s-eye.

  “Worse,” he said, finally giving in with a weary sigh. He shoved a hand through his hair, looking ready to confide his troubles to her at long last. Seeming to need her to be not just his lover but his friend. “I caught her in bed with someone.”

  Lainey could imagine how much that would hurt a man of Brad McCabe’s strength and pride. “Gil Hewitt, the show’s creator,” she guessed, figuring Yvonne was the kind of woman who would gladly hit the casting couch, so to speak, if it meant she emerged the grand-prize winner.

  “Yes,” Brad admitted reluctantly. Lips pressed together grimly, he continued. “Fifteen minutes before the final taping was to begin, I got a note from Yvonne asking me to meet her in one of the mansion bedrooms. And she was there with Gil Hewitt, in the throes of—well, you can guess.”

  How awful. Lainey reached across the table and took his hand. She tightened her fingers on his. “Was anyone else around to witness this?”

  “Nope, just the three of us.” Brad cupped her hand between both of his. He looked at her evenly. “It was obvious they had set me up to get a big emotional reactio
n from me, although I don’t think they were sure what I was going to do during the taping. And that uncertainty added an extra element of excitement.” His tone took on a bitter, sarcastic edge.

  Lainey’s heart went out to him. It was terrible enough to live through something like that, but to have the cameras on him in the immediate aftermath… Rumors swirling. His reputation maligned. “I’m surprised you didn’t just walk out,” she said sympathetically.

  Brad laughed—a short, humorless sound. “I tried, but the producers caught me going out the door and threatened to sue me for five million dollars if I didn’t get back in my tuxedo and honor my contract with the show.”

  Lainey remembered how tense the final Heart Ceremony had been. With Brad staring at Yvonne like he detested her, refusing to deliver the proposal that she—and all the viewers—were expecting. Then simply telling Yvonne it wasn’t going to work out, taking off his microphone and walking out. Under the circumstances, she doubted most men could have been even that gallant. “Did you tell the producers what had happened to make you want to bolt?”

  Brad let go of her hand. “No. I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Why not?” Lainey asked, curious.

  He stood, roamed the kitchen restlessly. “Obviously, you’ve never been cheated on.” He stared out the window, at the pasture where Tabasco Red was peacefully grazing.

  Lainey hadn’t.

  Brad ruminated in a voice laced with hurt. “Your first response is disbelief and anger and humiliation, and all you—all I—wanted to do was get the hell out of there. And never see or speak to Yvonne again.”

  Lainey certainly couldn’t blame him for that. “You weren’t mad at Gil Hewitt?”

  Brad swung around. “Sure, I was ticked off, but I’m not sure, in retrospect, that I was really jealous. The whole time I was paired up with Yvonne, I had this feeling that the situation was more make-believe than real, that things were just a little too perfect. There was nothing concrete that would have made me feel that way. Just a lot of little things that triggered an uneasy feeling in my gut. When I found her with Gil, I finally had confirmation that it wasn’t my imagination—there really was some reason why I kept thinking I shouldn’t trust her.”