Not that she was completely in the dark about Clay. He might have been “one of the Rust Creek Falls’ Traubs” but he was related to the Thunder Canyon Traubs, which meant that a fair amount of information about him was circulating around town. Including that he was one of six sons and had previously worked on the family ranch in Rust Creek Falls with four of his brothers. Only Forrest had opted for a different career, choosing to enlist in the military and fight for his country. He’d returned from the war in Iraq with an injured leg that was being treated by Dr. North at Thunder Canyon General Hospital. And PTSD, according to some whispers.
Since moving into the boarding house, both Clay and Forrest had been the subjects of as much admiration as speculation. The female population, in particular, seemed curious about these “real” cowboys who had come to town and were eager to get to know them better. Antonia didn’t think either of the brothers had encouraged the attention, but she couldn’t blame the women for their interest. Clayton and Forrest were both sinfully good-looking but, from day one, her heart had been firmly ensnared by Bennett.
“That’s why we like to come later,” Clay said, drawing her attention back to their conversation. “So Bennett can flirt with his favorite girl.”
“You need to raise your standards,” she told the little boy. Then, to his father, “And I really need to get this coffee into the dining room—where Forrest is already seated at your usual table.”
“Of course.” He stepped back so that she could move past him into the dining room.
As she did, she was conscious of his gaze following her. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Because why would Clay be watching her? Why would any man look twice at a woman whose belly entered a room ten seconds before the rest of her body did?
Okay, she knew she wasn’t really as enormous as she felt, but having to sneak into her father’s closet to find a shirt that would button over her baby bump made her feel huge and unattractive. Having a man pay any amount of attention to her was a boost to her battered ego—and when that man was as incredibly good-looking as Clayton Traub, well, she could probably be forgiven for letting her imagination run away.
Because even if he didn’t have any kind of romantic interest—and again, she’d be more shocked if he did—she enjoyed the brief conversations they occasionally shared over breakfast or dinner. Even after five weeks, she wouldn’t say she knew him well, but she did know him well enough to appreciate his straightforward manner and easygoing personality.
Mostly she appreciated that he didn’t ask too many questions. Having been the subject of so many whispers and rumors since her pregnancy became public knowledge, she was happy to talk to someone who didn’t want to know or seem to care about the father of her baby. And it warmed her heart immeasurably to witness the obvious affection between Clay and his son.
Obviously some men were able to embrace the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood. Unfortunately for Antonia, the father of her baby wasn’t one of them.
* * *
There had been more than a hint of fall in the air when Clay made his way to the main house for breakfast, reminding him that he’d already been in Thunder Canyon for longer than the few weeks he’d originally planned to stay. As he settled Bennett into the high chair that Toni had set at one end of the long table, it occurred to him that maybe it was time to go back to Rust Creek Falls and the family ranch. But he wasn’t ready to leave Thunder Canyon, not just yet.
He felt more than a little guilty that he’d bailed on his father and his responsibilities at the ranch—even if he’d done so with his mother’s blessing. Of course, Bob Traub was more than capable of handling things on his own. Hell, he’d been managing the whole spread since long before any of his sons had even been born, and he’d be the first to take issue with anyone who suggested that he wasn’t still capable of doing so.
He certainly hadn’t tried to prevent Clay from leaving. In fact, he’d agreed that it was a good idea for him to get away from Rust Creek Falls for a while. But when he’d encouraged his son to head west, Clay suspected that he meant a little farther west than Thunder Canyon—no doubt hoping that he would track down Delia in California and convince her to marry him so that their son would have a proper family.
Bob and Ellie Traub had raised their sons with traditional values and a strict moral code of behavior, and Clay believed in accepting responsibility for his actions. But he did not believe that marrying Delia was the answer, and he wanted something better for his son than a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in being a mother.
But until he figured out what that was, he was enjoying his time in Thunder Canyon. He liked the town and he had no complaints at all about the accommodations at Wright’s Way. The only real problem, from his perspective, was the inexplicable attraction he felt whenever he was around his landlady.
His very pregnant landlady, as he continually had to remind himself. Because any man could be forgiven for thinking lustful thoughts about an attractive woman—and Toni was no doubt an extremely attractive woman—but she was also an expectant mother, and contemplating any such ideas about a mother-to-be just seemed wrong.
Of course, that knowledge and even his own internal reprimands didn’t stop the thoughts from forming in his mind. And seeing Toni at the family-style breakfast she prepared for the boarders every morning somehow only further fanned the flames of his desire. A realization that, as he settled into the chair beside his son and across from his brother, continued to baffle him.
He’d always appreciated the company of women and, in the past, he’d enjoyed countless casual dates and numerous carefree liaisons. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He had a child to consider now—as would Toni in the very near future.
Clay had never imagined himself as a father. Not that he’d precluded the possibility from his future, he simply hadn’t thought he was ready for the responsibility at this point in his life. Delia showing up on his doorstep with a baby had taken that choice out of his hands. And while he would fight tooth and nail to protect his child, the little boy was all the responsibility Clay could—or wanted to—handle at this point in his life. He certainly didn’t want or need the complication of a personal relationship right now, and hooking up with a woman who had a baby of her own on the way would just be crazy.
No one had ever had cause to question Clay’s sanity in the past, so why was he so drawn to this particular woman? Why now?
Toni set a plastic bowl on the tray of Bennett’s high chair, and the little boy immediately reached into it, wrapping his fist around a handful of scrambled egg and then shoving his fist into his mouth.
She ruffled his hair and smiled. “You’re a hungry little guy today, are you?”
Bennett’s only response was to reach into the bowl with his other fist.
“He’s got a healthy appetite,” Clay told her.
“Growing boys need to eat,” Antonia noted.
“So do grown men,” Forrest pointed out.
Toni shifted her attention to the man seated on the other side of the table, her cheeks flushing as she took the empty platter from his hands.
“Coming right up,” she promised.
Clay scowled at his brother. “Don’t you think that was a little rude?”
“What was rude? Interrupting your flirting?” Forrest asked.
“I wasn’t flirting.”
His brother snorted.
“I wasn’t,” Clay insisted, though he wondered why he bothered. Because even if he had been flirting—which he wasn’t—he didn’t care what his brother thought. But he also didn’t want Toni overhearing their conversation and thinking that he had a thing for her. Because he didn’t.
“Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said something about men who protested too much?” Forrest challenged.
Bennett banged his hands on his tray, giving Clay an excuse to tur
n his attention to the little boy and ignore his brother’s comment.
“How’s your breakfast?” he asked.
The baby responded by offering a fistful of scrambled egg.
Clay nudged the little boy’s hand toward his mouth. “Bennett, eat.”
And he did, happily.
Toni returned with a platter laden with scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, browned sausages and savory fried potatoes in one hand and a full coffeepot in the other. She set the platter on the table and filled Clay’s and Forrest’s mugs before making her way down the table, offering refills to the other boarders who were lingering at breakfast.
Forrest loaded up his plate, then immediately focused his attention on his meal. Clay scooped up a forkful of eggs, but found his gaze following Toni as she made her way back to the kitchen.
“Transference,” Forrest said.
Clay looked up, startled by the abrupt pronouncement. “What?”
“Transference,” his brother said again. “It’s the redirection of emotions, usually in the context of a therapist-patient relationship but also occurring in other situations.”
Clay wasn’t sure he was following. Although he knew that one of the reasons Forrest had chosen to come to Thunder Canyon was to continue working in a therapy group with Annabel Cates and her dog, Smiley.
“Are you saying that you have feelings for your therapist?”
His brother snorted. “I’m talking about you, not me.”
Now Clay was even more confused. “You think I have feelings for your therapist?”
“I think you’re still feeling guilty about not being there for Delia when she was pregnant—”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant,” he interrupted to remind his brother.
“—and you want to make up for it by demonstrating an interest in the stages of pregnancy, resulting in your infatuation with our expectant landlady.”
“I’m not infatuated with our landlady.”
Forrest continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The fact that she doesn’t have a husband just makes her a more obvious target of your attention.”
“What’s obvious to me is that you have too much time on your hands if these are the scenarios you’re dreaming up.”
“‘That looks heavy, Toni,’” Forrest said, mimicking his brother. “‘Let me get it for you.’ ‘I’m going into town, Toni. Do you need me to pick anything up?’”
Clay scowled at his sibling, although he was more annoyed because he realized that Forrest was right. “Is there something wrong with wanting to be helpful?”
“Not at all,” Forrest denied. “So long as you’re aware of the rationale behind your actions.”
Clay thought he understood his rationale far better than his brother did, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Toni’s pregnancy. Truthfully, every time he caught a glimpse of her rounded belly, his mind started, because when he looked at his gorgeous landlady, the absolute last thing on his mind was that she was a mother-to-be.
No, his feelings for Toni Wright had absolutely nothing to do with any latent parental instincts he might possess and everything to do with simple masculine appreciation. He was a man, she was a beautiful woman, and he wanted to get her naked.
“But what do I know?” Forrest said now, a teasing note in his voice. “I’m not a father. Maybe you want to double your diapers, double your fun.”
Clay shook his head emphatically. “Bennett gives me more diaper changes than any man should have to handle.”
As if in response to his name, the little boy looked up from the egg he was smearing on his tray and smiled, and Clay actually felt his heart squeeze inside his chest.
Maybe he hadn’t thought too much about having children before Delia showed up at his door with Bennett, and maybe he’d denied—instinctively, and perhaps a little too vehemently—that he could be the baby’s father, and maybe his offer to let Delia and the child stay with him had been made more grudgingly than willingly. But living with a woman and her child, even temporarily, had been a huge adjustment for Clay, especially considering that his relationship with Delia had been, by mutual agreement, a strictly no-strings arrangement.
But a child wasn’t just a string. The possibility that he might actually be the boy’s father had felt like a noose around his neck. A noose that grew tighter with every day that passed until he woke up one morning to the sound of a screaming baby and realized that Delia was gone. He’d almost accepted that he might be Bennett’s father and had started to think about the practicalities of shared parenting, then suddenly, there was no one around to share any of the responsibilities.
Delia had the benefit of nine months to come to terms with the fact that she would have a baby—nine months to prepare for the arrival of her child and the realities of motherhood. But she’d shown up on his doorstep without any kind of warning and, not even giving him nine days to accept the fact that he was a father, ran off, abandoning the baby into his care. And with the realization that she was well and truly gone, the noose had pulled so taut that Clay could hardly breathe.
It was Bennett’s frantic cries that had finally penetrated the chaotic thoughts swirling through his brain, that made him realize he didn’t have the luxury of panicking or falling part because there was a tiny person who needed him. And with Delia well and truly gone, there was no doubt that Bennett needed him, so Clay stepped up to the plate.
The first time Bennett’s tiny fist had curled around his finger, Clay had been lost. The wave of affection for the little boy had knocked him flat with all the subtlety of a freight train. And the first time that Bennett had smiled at him, just a few weeks later, Clay had vowed to his son that he would never let Delia take him away. By the time he got the report from the lab, he’d realized that the DNA results didn’t even matter.
It was his mother who had encouraged him to open the envelope, anyway. Ellie Traub had accepted the baby more quickly and easily than he had done. In fact, from day one, she’d positively doted on the child, which was why she’d insisted he had to know what legal status he had with respect to the little boy. She was as thrilled as she was relieved to have scientific proof that Bennett was her grandson—and none too happy when Clay first told her of his plans to leave town with the baby.
Truth be told, Clay had vacillated for weeks before making the decision. As much as he wanted to get out of Rust Creek Falls for a while—and away from the nosy gossipers who liked to offer unsolicited suggestions to the new dad—he’d worried that he wouldn’t be able to manage on his own with the baby. His mother had been an enormous help, offering not just her own tried-and-true baby care advice, but giving him hands-on assistance whenever he was feeling overwhelmed. Which, over the first few months, was quite frequently.
As if on cue, the phone he’d tucked into his jacket pocket began to vibrate. He checked the display and smiled as he connected the call.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Where’s your brother?”
He glanced across the table. “Why are you calling my cell if you’re looking for Forrest?”
The brother in question shook his head and pushed away from the table, pointing to his watch and miming his intention to drive into town.
“Because he doesn’t answer his phone,” Ellie complained.
“Maybe he’s driving,” Clay suggested.
“Maybe,” she allowed. “Or maybe he’s ignoring my calls.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he hasn’t been very communicative since he got back from Iraq.”
Watching his brother make a hasty escape from the dining room, he couldn’t deny that was true. “He just needs some time, Mom.”
“I’ve tried to be patient,” Ellie said. “But I need to know that he’s doing okay.”
“He is,” Clay assured her. �
��I promise.”
“Well, I want to see for myself, and I need a grandbaby fix, so your dad and I are thinking about making a trip to Thunder Canyon this weekend.”
“We’d love to see you.”
“Good. I’ve already spoken to Allaire. She promised to pull some strings to get the private dining room at D.J.’s Rib Shack for the whole family. Friday night at seven.”
“That works for me,” Clay told her.
“Make sure it works for your brother.”
“I’ll try,” he said, unwilling to make any promises on Forrest’s behalf.
“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that,” she allowed. “Now tell me how my grandson’s doing.”
Clay was happy to regale his mother with details about Bennett’s growth and development and everything else he’d been doing over the past few weeks.
He didn’t tell Ellie that the little boy seemed to have developed a major crush on their landlady at Wright’s Way—because he was afraid that Bennett wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Two
Antonia usually waited until most of the boarders had left before she started clearing the tables, and when she returned to the dining room today, she saw that aside from Clay and his son the room was completely empty. As she began to stack plates, she could tell that Clay was on the phone, and though she wasn’t trying to listen in, she couldn’t help overhearing bits and pieces of his conversation.
And then she heard him say, “I love you, too.”
The words, spoken with easy affection, made her pause with a handful of cutlery in her fist. But before she could even begin to speculate about who might be on the other end of the line, he added, “Mom,” and she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
It wasn’t any of her business, of course. And she really hadn’t intended to eavesdrop. But when she glanced over as he disconnected the call, his gaze met hers and she knew that she’d been busted. Her cheeks filled with color.
The Maverick's Ready-Made Family Page 2
