by Marin Thomas
“What happens if you get injured and can’t rodeo?”
“Then I’ll find a civilian job.” He hoped that didn’t happen anytime soon but if it did, his experience with water conservation and reclamation projects should help him find employment with a city water district.
“You need to look for work now rather than later.”
Refusing to be bullied, Gavin said, “You need to let your sister and me figure things out.”
Johnny backed off. “If you hurt Dixie, you’ll have me and my brothers to answer to.”
Gavin wasn’t afraid of a fight—he’d been through several hand-to-hand scuffles in boot camp and his tour in Afghanistan, but he didn’t want the situation between him and Dixie’s brothers to escalate to that level. “Consider me warned.”
“Warned about what?” Dixie waltzed into the barn.
Without missing a beat, Johnny said, “Your cooking. What’s for supper?”
“I don’t know.” Dixie crinkled her nose. “What are you making?”
“I can cook,” Gavin interrupted the squabbling pair. “I make a mean chili.”
“Yeah, right,” Johnny said.
“Be happy to show you.” Maybe he could win Johnny over with food.
“Okay. The meat freezer is in the dining room.”
Gavin trailed Johnny from the barn, leaving Dixie with her mouth hanging open.
* * *
“THIS IS THE BEST CHILI I’ve ever tasted,” Porter said. Grunts of agreement followed the pronouncement.
Dixie silently fumed. She sat at the picnic table in the shade and scowled at her brothers who wolfed down the famous chili recipe Gavin had once cooked for the soldiers in his unit. His attempt to win favor with her brothers appeared to be working. She sampled another spoonful of the spicy concoction and covered her mouth to prevent a moan of appreciation from escaping.
“What’s in this stuff?” Conway asked.
“Ground beef, Italian sausage, peppers, tomatoes and secret spices.”
“Did you write down the recipe, Dix?” Johnny slurped a heaping spoonful.
“If you like it so much, you can make Gavin’s chili next time,” Dixie said.
Merle slouched in his chair and rubbed his belly. “How’d you learn to cook like this, Tucker?”
“I was raised by a single mom and she taught me to cook and sew.”
“You sew?” Dixie blurted.
Gavin grinned. “I can sew a button on a shirt and I iron my own clothes.”
The cowboy was Martha Stewart in disguise.
“What happened to your dad?” Buck, always the last to join a conversation, spoke up.
“He didn’t stick around after I was born.”
“What made you choose the army?” Willie asked, bombarding Gavin with more questions.
“Couldn’t make enough money at rodeo and didn’t want to go to college, so the military seemed like a good option.”
“What’d you do in the army?” Buck asked.
“Provided Afghan villagers with clean drinking water in an effort to win their trust.”
“Did it work?” Merle asked.
“Not really.” Gavin’s emotionless expression caused a pang in Dixie’s heart. War left soldiers with scars—some visible, most invisible. What kind of baggage did the conflict in Afghanistan leave Gavin with?
Porter pushed his bowl aside. “What’s for dessert?”
“Nothing.” Dixie stood. “Gavin and I need to run an errand in town. We’ll be back later.” She cut across the yard and hopped into Gavin’s truck.
“I guess we have an errand to run.” Gavin set his spoon aside.
“Mind if I...?” Porter nodded to the chili remaining in Gavin’s bowl.
“Help yourself.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dixie asked as soon as Gavin slid behind the steering wheel and started the truck.
“What are you talking about?”
“Cozying up to my brothers with delicious food and—”
“You think my chili’s delicious?” He drove out of the yard.
“Never mind the chili. If you believe befriending my brothers will make me change my mind about allowing you to—”
Gavin slammed his boot on the brake and they rocked to a stop. Without warning he leaned across the front seat and kissed Dixie.
She’d dreamed of the kisses they’d shared in the motel room, but none of her fantasies had done justice to the real thing. When he pulled away, she pressed her fingers to her tingling lips. “What did you do that for?”
“You were getting too riled and that’s not good for the baby.”
The baby. Gavin had kissed her because he worried about the baby—not because he was attracted to her and couldn’t help himself.
“I am not riled. I’m simply telling you that no one bosses me around, including my brothers.”
“Where are we going?” Gavin turned onto the county road leading into Stagecoach.
“The drive-through.”
“You could have had more chili.”
“I’m not hungry. I want a root beer.”
Gavin’s gaze dropped to her stomach. “Are you experiencing cravings already?”
“No.” She sighed. “I needed to get away from my brothers.”
“I guess having six of them can be overwhelming.”
After they’d passed the second mile marker, she asked, “Were you lonely growing up an only child?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you have a best friend?” Dixie considered Shannon Douglas her best friend. They’d hung out together in high school but after graduation Shannon had spent most of her time traveling the circuit, seeking out women’s rough stock events to compete in and Dixie didn’t see her friend as often as she’d like to.
“Nathan Parker was my best friend. We rodeoed in high school.” Gavin chuckled. “During our first competition Nate got his front tooth knocked out and I broke my wrist.”
“But the injuries didn’t stop you from climbing onto another bronc.”
“Nope. We rode the circuit after we graduated and when we ran out of entry-fee money we went down to the recruiter’s office. Ended up going through boot camp together and got assigned to the same unit in Afghanistan.”
“Is Nate still in the army?” If she hadn’t been staring at Gavin’s hands she would have missed the way his knuckles whitened against the wheel. A sense of forbidding spread through her. “You don’t have to answer that. I have a bad habit of being nosy.”
“It’s all right. I told your brothers about him. Nate was killed three months before I left the military.”
“I’m sorry, Gavin.” She wanted to learn more about his best friend but hated for Gavin to relive painful memories, so she kept her questions to herself.
They arrived at the drive-in and a teenager stopped at Gavin’s window. “What can I get you?”
“A number five meal and two large root beers.” Gavin glanced at Dixie. “You made me leave before I finished my supper.”
“Be ready in a jiffy.” The teenager dropped off their order with the cook, then meandered over to a car crowded with teenagers and chatted.
“Do you want to sit in the truck or outside?” He nodded to a table in the shade.
“Outside.”
Once they were situated at the table, Gavin spoke. “Nate was killed by a roadside bomb.”
Gavin’s baggage from the war. Dixie’s heart ached for him.
“I’ve gone over and over that day in my head, but I can’t figure out what I missed.”
“What you missed? I don’t understand.”
“We were installing an in-ground water filtration system. The people in the village had never gi
ven us any trouble and acted as if they appreciated our efforts to provide them with clean drinking water.”
Dixie closed her eyes and pictured a dusty, barren village in the middle of mountainous terrain.
“I must have overlooked a clue—a warning the villagers were plotting against us. Late one afternoon we packed up to return to base camp and Nate wanted to drive the first Humvee in line. It was his birthday so I let him. When Nate walked up to the front of the vehicle, he stepped on a trip wire and set off the explosion.”
Grasping Gavin’s hand, Dixie squeezed hard. Nate had been blown up and Gavin had witnessed the tragic event—there were no words of comfort for that kind of horror.
Fearing his emotions would spiral out of control if he allowed himself to recall the details of that fateful day, Gavin gazed into Dixie’s teary eyes, soaking in the sympathy and comfort shining in the blue depths. Their color reminded him of the Arizona sky on a cloudless day and slowly the tightness in his chest eased.
Their order arrived and he dug into his burger, disgusted by how easily he’d opened up to Dixie. At least he’d stopped babbling before he’d shared the gory details of Nate’s death.
“You haven’t told anyone about the baby, have you?” Dixie asked.
“I spoke to my mother,” he said. “She knows.”
Dixie stiffened. “And...?”
“She supports whatever decision we make about our situation.”
“There’s no decision to make.” Dixie slurped the last of her root beer through the straw. “I’m not forcing you to be involved in the baby’s life. You can come and go as you please.”
A part of Gavin wished Dixie expected more from him. He was used to soldiers relying on him to solve problems and lead the way, but he also knew the best thing for Dixie and the baby was for him to keep his distance.
“How come you haven’t told your brothers I’m the father?” he asked.
“Because they’d force you to marry me.”
If Dixie discovered Johnny had already guessed on his own and had begun a marriage campaign on her behalf, she’d throw a fit.
“Marriage isn’t an option.” She made “I do” sound akin to torture.
He thought of his mother raising him alone and working two jobs to keep a roof over their heads. Sure, his situation with Dixie was different because he intended to pay child support, but what if Dixie carried a boy? There were times during his childhood when he’d yearned for a father to throw the baseball with or to coach his little league team. A father to help him buy his first car. To give him advice on girls. He’d missed not having a male role model in his life.
The sad truth was that no matter how Gavin might want to be involved in his child’s life he didn’t dare become a permanent fixture. But he’d show his son or daughter that he cared by making sure their mother didn’t have to struggle financially, and he’d do his best to visit his child a few times a year.
Again Gavin’s thoughts turned to his mother. Dixie hadn’t been the only one who’d been teased because her father hadn’t married her mother. Sylvia Tucker had also been a victim of gossip—neighbors, teachers and others in the community talking behind the single mother’s back.
Marriage appeared to be the only way Gavin could protect Dixie and their child from vicious, hurtful ridicule.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “We’re getting married.”
“That sounds like a military order not a proposal.” Dixie grimaced. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
Gavin couldn’t ignore his deep sense of honor, but he also feared in doing the right thing he’d be the one making all the sacrifices. “You shouldn’t have to raise our child alone.” In reality, though, she would raise the baby without his help because he intended to remain a safe distance from them most of the time.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Dixie stood so fast she toppled her empty root beer mug. “I have my own plans and I won’t allow you or anyone else to derail them.”
“How would marrying me upset your plans?” To Gavin’s way of thinking, he and Dixie would go their separate ways and come together on occasion for the baby’s sake—birthdays and holidays.
She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. Rubbed her brow. Shook her head. Waved a hand in the air. She looked darn cute all fired up.
“Do you find the idea of marrying me repulsive?”
“Ha-ha.” Her gaze zeroed in on Gavin’s mouth, raising his body temperature several degrees. “You know you ooze sex appeal.”
The disgusted tone in her voice equated oozing sex appeal to a draining-pustule disease.
“How long do you guess a marriage between us would last? A month? Just until the baby was born? Maybe a year afterward?” Dixie asked.
“Don’t sound so optimistic.”
“I’m serious. You and I know that you’d never have given me the time of day if Veronica hadn’t been stalking you at the Boot Hill Rodeo.”
That wasn’t necessarily true but he doubted arguing the point would change Dixie’s view. He studied the stubborn tilt of her chin. This was one fight Gavin would not win. He changed tactics. “What if we get engaged but hold off on a wedding until we know each other better.” If Dixie still didn’t want to marry then Gavin could walk away believing he’d done his duty.
“I have better things to do than spend time getting to know a man.”
If Gavin wasn’t able to support her and their child emotionally, he’d do it financially. “I’ll invest in your soap company.”
“Oh, no. I don’t mind you offering me a loan like you already agreed to but I don’t want you having a stake in my business.”
“Why not?”
“Because, then you’d have a say in how I manage things.”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do with your soaps, Dixie.” Investing in her company would be investing in his child’s future.
“You’d give me money and not tell me what to do with it?”
“Consider me a silent partner.” Dixie would find out soon enough how good he was at keeping things bottled up inside him.
“If I don’t accept your engagement proposal will you rescind your previous offer to loan me a thousand dollars?”
He hadn’t been thinking along those lines but since Dixie jumped to that conclusion he went with it. “We get engaged and you get the thousand dollars and access to more money if you need it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, confident she’d cave in.
Finally, her shoulders sagged. “I’ll agree to the engagement as long as you understand it doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to marriage.”
“Deal.” Her sassy demeanor amused Gavin. Beneath all that stubbornness was a sweet soul he found more and more difficult to resist. “Shall we seal our pact with a kiss?”
She slapped her open hand against his chest. “Whoa, soldier. Just because I agreed to a trial engagement doesn’t mean you can have your way with me.”
“It’s a simple kiss, Dixie.” He didn’t give her time to reject him. He swooped in, pressing his mouth to hers, deepening the embrace—because she let him. Because she tasted of hope and goodness. Eventually the need for oxygen forced him to end the kiss.
“Gavin?”
“What?”
“Let me break the news to my brothers about our engagement.”
That was one duty Gavin was willing to pass off to Dixie.
Chapter Six
“Where’s Gavin?” Johnny’s question greeted Dixie when she entered the farmhouse kitchen. Her eldest brother sat alone at the table, nursing a beer.
“He left.” As soon as they’d returned from town. Dixie assumed Gavin hadn’t wanted to stay for fear she’d change her mind about their engagement.
“Did you ask him where he was headed?”
Johnny leaned across the kitchen table. “Tucker’s whereabouts sure in heck oughtta be your business, little sister.”
Dixie had had enough of well-meaning men for one day. She planted her fists on her hips and ignored the squeaking sounds of the bedroom doors in the upstairs hallway. “Gavin has his life and I have mine.”
“The hell you say!” Johnny’s fist slammed against the table. “He’s the father of your baby.”
Although Dixie hadn’t come right out and said Gavin was the father, she believed Johnny had guessed the first time Gavin visited the farm. “So what if he is the father?” The heat and the fact that she had a craving for chocolate when there were no sweets in the house made her irritable.
“You and Tucker are getting married pronto.”
“Oh, really? Do you plan to drag me to the church by my hair?”
Voices whispered in the upstairs hallway—no doubt her brothers were holding a family conference, debating how best to defend her honor.
“After what Mom put us through, how can you consider raising your baby out of wedlock?”
Johnny had gone for the jugular. He, more than the others, understood how difficult it had been for her to be the only daughter of a promiscuous mother. “Don’t get your tighty-whities twisted in a knot. Gavin proposed this afternoon.”
She neglected to tell Johnny that the engagement was a sham and she had no intention of marrying Gavin. Once word spread that she and Gavin were engaged and she was expecting his baby, they’d become old news and people would move on to greener gossip pastures. She’d wait a month or two after the baby was born then end their engagement and raise the child alone—as she’d planned to do all along.
“About time you came to your senses.”
Dixie opened her mouth to argue but yawned instead.
