“Cal, you don’t need me here,” she said with what sounded to him like a trace of wistfulness.
“I never said that.”
“I’m not blind. Anybody could do the cooking and cleaning. As for the work I do down in the barn, you could hire a groom in no time. I’m just a rank beginner.”
“Do you enjoy it?” he asked, genuinely curious.
The smile that spread across her face was answer enough, but she said, “I’m learning so much. I love being around the horses. I can’t wait to see them run. And I’ve been reading your books. Chaney didn’t think you’d mind. Breeding is all so complicated, I mean if you do it right and don’t just let nature take its course. And the business side of it, I haven’t begun to figure that out yet. What makes a yearling a good investment? It seems to me that it’s awfully risky. I saw the story about the spring sales and what you paid for those horses. That’s more than I’ll earn in my entire lifetime. I had no idea.”
Her eyes were shining like polished gemstones. “Do you know what I was reading just last night before Winning Pride had her foal? I think it was in the General Stud Book or maybe it was the Thoroughbred Record…”
“Hey, slow down,” he said, laughing.
“Sorry,” she said, grinning apologetically. “I get carried away. I guess I’ve just been storing all this up, waiting for the right audience. Chaney lets me talk, but I’m not so sure he really listens.”
“Oh, I think he’s been hearing you loud and clear. I get the feeling he’d like to see you stay on, though he’d never flat-out admit it. What do you really want to do, Marilou?”
“It’s not just up to me.”
“If it was?”
She hesitated. Finally she lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to stay on here as an employee, not after the other day. We couldn’t go on sleeping down the hall from each other and just ignore the rest. At least I couldn’t,” she admitted, an embarrassed pink creeping into her cheeks.
Even though he recognized the truth in what she was saying, Cal’s heart sank. “There’s a lot between us,” he agreed. “There’s no avoiding that, and I can’t promise to keep away from you.”
“Then I guess that’s our answer.” She’d locked her hands together in front of her on the table and sat staring at them. Finally she asked, “What about your grandmother, Cal? I don’t want to go home without knowing that’s resolved.”
“Find her, then,” he said softly, overcoming his deep-seated reluctance. “I owe you that much, I guess.”
“This is for you, Cal, not me.”
Angrily he shoved his chair back from the table. “Don’t give me a bunch of psychological babble. Can’t you ever leave well enough alone? You’re coming out the winner. I’ve agreed to let you look for her.”
“You won’t regret it,” she vowed, beaming at him in spite of his nasty tone.
“I already do,” he said with a heavy sigh. He took one last look at her, then walked out the door.
Chapter Eight
Though she had Cal’s blessing to begin the hunt for his grandmother, Marilou recognized that his heart wasn’t in the search. Oddly enough, neither was hers. To her surprise, she let the whole day pass without making any attempt to track the old woman down. She blamed her actions on the fact that she had a lot of catching up to do around the house. She’d been so busy helping out with the horses that she’d gotten behind with the gardening and cleaning.
Since the morning air was still cool, she went outside to get the weeding done first. She was kneeling down staring at all the little green shoots in the ground, a frown on her face, when Cal came up behind her.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that serious,” he said.
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Bugs?”
She shook her head.
“What then?”
“You’re going to laugh at me.”
He grinned at that. “Actually I could use a good laugh.” He hunkered down beside her and stared at the ground. “I don’t see the problem.” He crumbled a clump of earth between his fingers. “Ground feels good. Everything looks healthy.”
“Too healthy,” she grumbled.
“Huh?”
“I’m weeding,” she said, as if that explained everything. Judging from his blank expression, he still didn’t get it. “Cal, I can’t tell the weeds from what I planted.”
He managed to keep from hooting, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that stole across his face. “That’s a problem, all right. Haven’t you ever done any gardening before?”
She shook her head. “I just figured you’d look at what was coming up and know if it was a good guy or bad one. I mean I planted all these nice, tidy rows, but now it’s not so clear to me exactly where they are.”
“Maybe you should just let it all run wild and see how it turns out.”
She scowled at him. “You are not taking this seriously. And you’d better, because I’m going to leave it in your hands when I go.”
He frowned at that, but kept his tone light. “Then we’re both in trouble, because I don’t know any more about it than you do.”
“Well, we’re just going to have to learn,” she said decisively. “I’ll go to the library later and get a book. Or maybe I’ll call the nursery and have them send someone over. Do you suppose they make house calls?”
“For the right price, they’ll probably talk to the damned plants for you. Call them, if it will make you happy.”
He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her face. Finally he reached over and brushed the tip of her nose. “You have a smudge,” he explained, his voice dropping. But then his finger moved on to her lips, tracing the curve of her mouth and sending waves of heat through her. She had the most compelling urge to draw that finger deeply into her mouth.
“What am I going to do about you, Marilou?” he said, and she could hear the helplessness and frustration in his tone.
“Kiss me?” she suggested, her breath catching at the instantaneous flaring of desire in his eyes. Maybe if they made love right here in the middle of the garden she could stop worrying about the damned weeds…
He shook his head, ending that fantasy. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think I could stop with a kiss anymore. I want you too damned much.” He caressed her cheek, then swept the pad of his thumb across her lips one last time. Anticipation turned her insides to warm honey, but he was already standing up, already stepping away.
“Cal,” she whispered, wishing he didn’t have quite such a strong sense of integrity.
“I have to get back to work,” he said, looking around desperately as if he hoped Chaney would materialize to rescue him.
“Cal,” she said again, but he had already started away and he never looked back.
Marilou blinked back tears of frustration as she turned back to the garden. She still couldn’t tell weeds from vegetables, but she yanked up a few sprouts just for the satisfaction of it.
“Oh, hell,” she finally muttered. Then she went inside and called the nursery for help.
While she was waiting, she began to clean, spending most of her time in Cal’s office. As she was straightening the closet, she came across an old camera, a 35 millimeter that had seen better days. Still, she held it lovingly, focusing it, testing its weight in her hands. Suddenly she desperately wanted to take photographs of everything, especially of Cal. Once she was gone, she would at least have something to remember the adventure by.
Abandoning her chores and forgetting all about the impending arrival of the man from the nursery, she borrowed Chaney’s truck and sped into town for film. She spent the rest of the afternoon roaming the farm, shooting pictures of the horses, even capturing Chaney at work, when he wasn’t aware of her presence. Roddy, sporting a blush and a shy smile, posed with Devil’s Magic. Even Zeke and Pedro paused long enough in their chores for her to get a picture. The only person s
he missed was Cal. Maybe she was going to have to make do with her memories after all.
That night at dinner, she finally had to admit to herself that she’d spent the day delaying the inevitable. Somehow she had recognized that she and Cal had reached a real turning point. Whatever happened next with his grandmother was going to alter things between them forever. She put the letter in plain view on the kitchen table, then waited for a reaction. Cal’s glance kept straying toward the pale blue envelope. His lips settled into a frown and stayed that way.
Finally, when Chaney had gone out after making a snippy remark about escaping the kitchen’s icy atmosphere, Cal scowled at her and mumbled, “So?” Stubbornly Marilou wanted him to say the words. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t play games. Did you find her?”
“I haven’t started looking,” she admitted.
His eyes widened. “Why the hell not?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t get to it.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that all day long she’d been depressed by the fact that once Cal’s grandmother was found and the two of them were reunited, her role in Cal’s life would be at an end.
“Look, I told you it’s what I wanted, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“Maybe I’m still not convinced.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not ever going to jump up and down in excitement and plead with you to do this. If that’s what you’re waiting for, hell will freeze over first.”
Marilou sighed. That was exactly what she was hoping for, though she knew better than to admit it. It was entirely likely that Cal would never have—or even want—the sort of warm, loving family relationships that she missed so desperately. Maybe she was the one who was foolish and unrealistic for wanting that for him. He seemed to be perfectly content with the life he’d carved out for himself. Who was she to come along and insist that his quiet, solitary existence needed to be crowded with a grandmother and maybe even the mother and father he’d held in contempt for so long now?
As she debated her right to go on interfering, Cal picked up the letter and studied it, turning it over and over in his hands as if just touching it would reveal something to him. “How’re you going to go about finding her?” he asked eventually. “Doesn’t seem as if there’s a lot to go on. We don’t even know her name.”
She took his mild curiosity as a good sign, about the most encouragement she was likely to get. “She’s your maternal grandmother. We know that much. What was your mother’s maiden name?”
“McDonald, I think.”
She frowned. Cal apparently caught her disappointment. He said with a rare touch of wry humor, “You were hoping for something a little more unusual like maybe Capriatti or Janovich?”
Marilou chuckled. “Well, those names probably would be easier to locate in Wyoming, but that’s okay. We can still manage.”
“What city will you look in?”
“I’ll start in Cheyenne, since that’s the postmark. Then, if I don’t come up with anything, I’ll widen the search to the surrounding area. The library probably has phone books. I’ll drive over tomorrow and take a look. If worse comes to worst, I’ll get a map and just start calling information. The population of the whole state isn’t that big.”
“That could take forever.”
“Be thankful the letter didn’t come from New York,” she said. “That could take forever. This will be a snap. It may cost a little in long-distance call charges, though.”
“I don’t give a damn about the money. Do what you have to do. What makes you so certain she wants to be found? If she’d really wanted me to find her, wouldn’t she have put a phone number or at least an address on the letter?”
“She’s old and sick. Remember, she even got your address wrong, and you know some detective probably tracked that down for her. You’d be surprised at how many people are careless about little details. That’s why I have a job.”
He tossed the letter back onto the table. “Speaking of that, you’re probably getting anxious to get back,” he said, watching her intently.
“In some ways, I suppose,” she said evasively, surprised that there was really very little she missed about the place that had been her home all her life. Already Cal’s image was the one that filled her dreams, and his home was beginning to feel like someplace she wanted to belong. That, she reminded herself, was dangerous. Hurriedly she got to her feet and began doing dishes. Suddenly Cal was beside her, dish towel in hand, his heat and scent tempting her.
“I’ll dry,” he offered.
“There’s no need,” she said, anxious for him to go, hungry for him to stay.
“I want to.”
She shrugged, feigning an indifference that was far from the electric awareness she was actually feeling.
They worked in companionable silence for the next few minutes, though Marilou was aware of an increasing tension in the air. She sensed that it had nothing to do with the letter or Cal’s family. She put the last plate in the drainer, rinsed out the sink and started to turn around, only to find herself sandwiched between Cal and the counter. Her gaze shot up to his. Eyes that had darkened to a stormy gray pinned her in place. Warm breath whispered against her cheek.
“Damn, I missed you,” he said, the reluctant words sounding as if they’d been wrenched from deep inside him. He brushed a tender kiss across her forehead, then another on her cheek. Marilou felt as if she were suspended in time, holding her breath, anticipating the instant when his lips would finally claim hers with the hunger that she’d never known with anyone but Cal.
“Did you miss me?” he inquired lazily, letting her wait, apparently all too sure that the kiss he withheld was one she wanted all too much. “You said you did this morning. Did you mean it?”
She nodded, feeling too weak and shy and breathless to get the actual words out.
He grinned and sprinkled light, teasing kisses across her shoulder. The sweet torment was every bit as arousing as he’d meant it to be. She swallowed hard as he taunted, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Not nearly good enough.”
Something told her that admitting the truth would give Cal an advantage she wasn’t nearly ready for him to have. Summoning up a bold and sassy smile, she said sweetly, “Sorry. It’s the best I can do on short notice.”
As his surprised laughter echoed in the kitchen, she ducked out of his loose embrace and darted for the back door. She made it into the yard before he caught up with her and swung her back into his arms.
“Scaredy-cat,” he said softly, holding her close, his hands looped behind her waist, their thighs touching provocatively.
“I’m not the one who ran away to Kentucky,” she retorted.
“That was a business trip.”
“Of course it was.”
“Well, it was.”
“Oh, I know that. I also know that it wasn’t scheduled to begin until a couple of days later.”
“You think that’s enough evidence to hang a man on?”
She grinned. “First off, I’m not trying to hang you. And second, that’s not my only evidence. I have additional testimony from a very reliable source.”
“What source?”
“Joshua Ames. You do consider him reliable, don’t you? He is the man you turn to in a crisis?”
A dull red crept into his cheeks, and he avoided her eyes. “What the devil does Joshua have to do with anything?” he grumbled.
“It seems he received some sort of desperation phone call at one in the morning and decided he’d better pay an emergency visit. You’d already fled the danger.”
“Joshua was here?”
“You’ve got it. A nice man, by the way.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. Joshua hasn’t set foot on this place since I bought it. He keeps thinking I’ll come to my senses and buy a company that actually has offices and skyscrapers or at the very least a secretarial pool.”
“I gathered he’s not much on wide open spaces.”
“Joshua prefers his environment to be regulated by air conditioners and dehumidifiers. If a business can’t be computed with a calculator and run by statistics, he figures it isn’t worth knowing about. This place is totally beyond him. Every time I send him a bill for hay and oats, he gets heart palpitations. When I told him I wanted to modernize the breeding shed, he thought I’d gone over the edge.”
“How did the two of you get to be such friends?”
He looked at her finally, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “He moved in down the block, way back when we were kids. He was frail and sickly then. He wore glasses and liked to study. You can just imagine how the other kids bullied him.”
“So you went to his rescue.”
“No more than he came to mine in his own way. His house provided a safe haven from the instability at home.”
“When he showed up here the other day, he was the one running to the rescue. Judging from the looks of him, he outgrew his need for protection rather dramatically.”
Cal drew her closer, regarding her intently. “You thought he was good-looking?” he inquired with a dangerous edge in his voice.
“A hunk, as a matter of fact,” she said deliberately.
“And no doubt he thought you were beautiful.”
“I believe he did mention finding me attractive,” she conceded, then added modestly, “He was probably just being polite.”
Cal’s fingers tangled in her hair and tightened as his mouth came down on hers. “You won’t get polite from me,” he murmured just before the hungry demand of his kiss stole their breath away. There was nothing teasing about the hot, moist possessiveness of his mouth covering hers, nothing reluctant about the bold forays of his tongue. Days of wanting and need exploded in that single urgent kiss.
They were both gasping when he finally broke away, and there was a bemused expression in his eyes that she was sure was matched in her own. “God, Marilou,” he said raggedly. “What the hell do you do to me?”
“Irritate you?” she suggested, trying for a teasing tone that would deny the thudding of her heart.
My Dearest Cal Page 10
