She looked at Gemma and for a fleeting moment Gemma thought she might bolt and run like a coyote on a hot summer night. But when Gemma smiled, Jessie took his hand and nodded. He led her to the middle of the dance floor and with at least a foot of space between their bodies, they two-stepped to a George Strait tune.
“Your girls are lookin’ good,” Trace said.
She’d never get used to the oozy feeling his warm breath on her neck caused. She wanted to kiss him right there under the mistletoe and then sneak off to the nearest hayloft or blanket under the stars to do more than kiss. But there was still the cold war to deal with before there would be any more kisses.
“Yes, they are, and so are your boys. Look at them dancin’ with the girls. How’d you get them to do that? Most boys are too shy to dance,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am. It took as much work for me to put enough confidence in them to dance as it did for you to make all those girls look like princesses tonight.”
“And I can see what you and those boys have been doing in the evenings the past two nights. How many of them had even heard of two-stepping?”
He put a hand over his heart. “Guilty as charged. I couldn’t teach them what I didn’t know, so two-steppin’ and a little swing is going to be it for the night. Damian could do some fancy footwork to rap, but it wouldn’t work with country music songs. He caught on faster than any of them.”
She looped her arm through his. “Are you going to ask me to dance or do I have to wait for Tyrelle? Or are we still fighting?”
“He’s got his eye on Fiona, but Miz Gemma, may I have this dance? And we still have a talk to do, but I don’t think we’re fighting.”
Hill punched a couple of buttons and Travis Tritt’s song blared from the machinery.
“Swing it is,” Trace said.
On one twirl Gemma noticed Hill and a brunette doing some fancy footwork and Harper and a short blonde wearing cowboy boots like hers, only in pink, weren’t doing such a shabby job either.
“Who are those ladies?” she asked.
“Current girlfriends. Lester has gone to pick up his woman. There he is coming in the door right now. She owns a Western wear shop in town,” he answered just before he swung her out again in a series of twirls.
When the song ended Gemma was panting.
“Is it me, the dancing, or are you out of shape?” Trace asked.
“All of the above,” she gasped.
Trace smiled. “Now that’s a good answer, darlin’. Want to sit out the next one? Looks like the kids are doing fine out on the floor so find a chair and I’ll bring you a cup of punch.”
She nodded and melted into the nearest chair. Jessie and Damian were dancing again, this time a little closer. Tyrelle was teaching Fiona a two-step with an extra kick thrown in the mix. The rest of the kids were dancing all in a pile like kids did these days, but when the song ended and a slow one began, they chose up partners and the two-stepping began all over again.
Trace put a cup of punch in her hands and sat down beside her. “Gemma, I didn’t mean to let this go on this long, but I was busy in the evenings teaching the boys to dance so I didn’t get over to your cabin. Want to take a walk right now? I’d say there are plenty of chaperones at this dance.”
Gemma shook her head. “No. It can wait. I don’t want to miss a single minute of all this fun. I worked five hours on those girls this afternoon.”
Trace leaned over and kissed her on the earlobe. “I’d let you work five hours on me.”
It took all her willpower to sit still, but she managed. “Be careful about making me all hot, darlin’. Remember what they say about paybacks.”
Trace chuckled and sat up straight. “At least I’ve graduated from cowboy to darlin’. That’s enough for one night anyway, Miz O’Donnell. We can talk after the rodeo tomorrow night when I show you who is boss one more time.”
“How the mighty are fallen,” she quipped.
“Hemingway?” he asked.
Lester walked up beside them and said, “David in the Bible when Jonathan and Saul were slain. I want you two to meet Georgia. She’s from Colorado Springs and owns a Western wear store over there.”
Gemma nodded up at the tall blonde wearing jeans and boots. “Pleased to meet you.”
“We’re on our way to the punch bowl. Can we bring you something?”
Gemma shook her head. “I’m fine right now.”
When they’d gone, Trace picked up her hand and teased the palm with his thumb. “So you think you are mean as David? You got a sling and a couple of rocks in your back pocket?”
“I got a determination to win in my back pocket,” she said.
His thumb was driving her completely crazy. How could one rough old cowboy thumb create so many naughty thoughts in a room full of kids, anyway?
“So do I, darlin’,” he whispered.
She wasn’t sure when Hill and his girlfriend crossed the dance floor, but suddenly there they were, right in front of her and Trace. The girl wore a cute little red sundress and a silver bead necklace.
“Gemma, meet Chris Smith,” Hill said.
Gemma pulled her hand free and stuck it out. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Chris shook with her and then slipped her hand back into Hill’s. “The kids seem to be having a good time. I teach this age group. It’s hard to get them on the dance floor together even when they’ve known each other for years. You really have done a lot in just one week.”
“They’ve come a long way,” Trace said. “If you’ll excuse us, Gemma promised me the next slow dance.”
He held out his hand and she stood up.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
He slipped his arms around her waist. “Tonight I don’t play well with others. I don’t want to share. I missed you, Gemma,” he said.
His heart was beating loudly in her ear. The steady rhythm seemed to be telling her that he was as solid as his heartbeat, that he’d never hurt her.
“I’ve been right here all week,” she said.
“Yes, and that was even harder than you being a hundred miles away.”
“What are we going to do about us?” She looked up into his eyes.
“I guess that’s what we need to talk about after the ride tomorrow night.”
***
Everything was a flurry on Saturday morning. Last-minute checks to make sure everyone had all their things in the right suitcases. One more look under the bunk beds and in the bathroom for anything that might have been left behind. Breakfast was finished. Good-byes and hugs to Hill, Harper, Lester, and Trace.
The bus rumbled up to the front of the cabin and Gemma panicked. She couldn’t let them go back to the big city life. What if they got tangled up in gangs or started doing drugs? Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it when Carly wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her one more time.
She wanted to gather all ten of them up like a mother hen with her peeps and carry them to Ringgold where they’d have a makeover every weekend and a dance at least once a month. They should live in a town so small that if they did anything that they shouldn’t, she’d know about it before they even got home from school.
Carly’s lip quivered when she handed Gemma a folded piece of paper. “We wrote a letter to our partners last night, but then we decided to write something to you. It’s all right here in the envelope.”
Gemma swallowed a baseball-sized lump and hugged the child one more time. “I’ll read them all later. I’ve got your addresses and you have mine. Write me and tell me what’s going on in your life.”
“Can we take our boxes home with us now?” Deanna asked.
“No, you can’t take your box, but each one of you can give your box to your partner. No peeking inside until you are on the airpl
ane going home. There’s a little surprise for you and the note that your partner wrote to you inside the box. It will give you something to read on the ride,” Gemma said.
Carly handed Deanna her bright-colored box. “You made a pretty good partner. If you are ever in Dallas, come and stay with me.”
“If you’ll quit snoring I might do that. And if you ever get to Chicago, you come see me,” Deanna said with tears rolling down her cheeks as she gave her pretty trinket box to Carly.
Lester poked his head in the door. “Time to go, ladies. Boys are on the bus and you’ve got to be at the airport in just a little while.”
Gemma followed them out, helped get them settled, and waved from the porch until the bus was out of sight.
Trace stepped up behind her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Can you imagine watching your own kids leave for camp or even their first day of school?”
She buried her head in his shoulder. “I’m never having children. I couldn’t stand the pain of kindergarten.”
***
The doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat and looked at the lady’s chart. “Why are you having this child if you don’t want it?”
“That is personal, and I really don’t even want to talk about it. I’m treating this like a disease that I will be cured of when it is removed from my body.”
“Adoption? I’ve got several people on a list who would love to give the baby a good home,” Dr. Joyce said.
“That could be a possibility. I’ll get in touch with you if it becomes necessary. Not long until the C-section, right?”
“That’s right, but there is no reason why you couldn’t have this child naturally. You might even change your mind about motherhood if you went through childbirth.”
The lady smiled. “It’s a tumor that will be removed surgically, and I have no interest in motherhood. Not now or ever. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Chapter 12
The white lines in the middle of the highway whipped past at seventy five miles per hour and Gemma’s thought pattern spun around in her head at the same speed. She had to remember to touch her lucky horseshoe. She had to eat a hamburger from the rodeo grounds even if they didn’t get there until time to ride. Tomorrow morning she was flying home. She’d be there in time for Sunday dinner, and they were having music out on the lawn afterwards.
She and Trace still needed to talk, but that might have to wait until they got to the Dodge City rodeo at the end of the month. By then she’d have things sorted out and finalized. And once Gemma reached that point, not even wild horses could make her change her mind.
Josh Turner’s “Your Man,” the ringtone she’d set up for Trace’s calls, started playing on her cell phone. She reached over to the console and touched the speakerphone button.
“Ready to pull off for lunch?” she asked.
“Only if you are. We’re only about an hour from the rodeo grounds. I can wait for a rodeo hot dog or maybe they’ll have gyros,” Trace said.
“I was looking forward to a rodeo hamburger.”
“Does that bring you good luck?”
She hesitated.
“It does, doesn’t it? You have to eat a burger from the rodeo grounds before the ride to get your mojo,” he teased.
“And yours is a hot dog, right? Would that be with or without a beer?” she shot right back at him.
“No beer, darlin’. Can’t drink a drop before a ride,” he admitted.
“And that’s part of your mojo too, isn’t it?”
“I’m a better poker player than that. I’m not giving up my tell, darlin’. Speakin’ of poker, how about a game after the rodeo? In my trailer?”
“What’s the stakes?” she asked.
“I was thinkin’ one item of clothing at a time,” he said in a husky voice.
Gemma’s overactive imagination gave her a flash of Trace losing his last sock when she laid out a full house. “I’m a damn good poker player. You sure you want to go there?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah, I’m real sure. And every time I win a piece of your getup, I get to take it off however I want. You have to lie still and let me take my time,” he teased.
“Lie?” she asked.
“Sure. We’ll play right in the middle of my bed.”
She lowered her voice. “And when you lose an item of clothing do I get the same privilege?”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, and I’ll look forward to it. But there is no way you will beat me.”
“I’ll bring a brand-new deck of cards. That way we’ll both know they haven’t been marked. Right after the rodeo dance is over, we’ll meet at your trailer, and honey, you ain’t played with a pro until you play with me,” Gemma said.
“Why wait until after the rodeo dance?”
“Because I’m going to celebrate my win and you are going to dance with me. Besides, the Cheyenne rodeo is my favorite of all of them. I would have liked to have been here the whole week.”
“You are on, darlin’. Now tell me, are you dead serious about going home tomorrow morning?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. I can’t wait to get there. I didn’t realize how homesick I’d be after only a month. Are you going back to help on the dude ranch?”
“No, I’m flying home too. Thought I’d drive my trailer down to Dodge City and park it and fly in and out of there. That what you got in mind?” he asked.
She nodded and then realized he wasn’t sitting right beside her.
“Yes, it is,” she answered. “Two days to Dodge City, park, and be home before nightfall. On Sunday my family is all gathering and we’re having music under the shade trees. Colleen and Blaze will even be there for the afternoon. The carnival is traveling from one place to another and they said they’d make a forty-mile detour and spend the afternoon with us.”
“You sound homesick.” He laughed.
“I am, and I’m glad we’ve got some time between Cheyenne and Dodge City. Where’s Sugar? I don’t hear her.”
“Sleeping like a baby on her pillow over in the passenger’s seat. Those boys about wore her out. Looks like I’ve got a call from my father. Talk to you later,” Trace said.
***
Trace had a short conversation with his father and then turned on the radio and kept time with his thumbs on the steering wheel as Josh Turner sang “Would You Go with Me” on the station out of Cheyenne. The lyrics asked if she’d go with him if they rolled down streets of fire, and if he gave her his hand would she take it and make him the happiest man in the world.
“What do you think, Sugar—would Gemma take my hand or would she bite it?” Trace asked.
Sugar looked up and yipped.
“Yep, that’s what I figured. She’d bite it for sure.”
Ava had said that he looked like Josh Turner. She said that’s why she picked him out of a sea of cowboys that night. He remembered playing Josh’s new CD over and over that weekend and Ava telling him that his voice was almost that deep but not quite.
“Lord, what was I thinkin’?” he said aloud.
The DJ was talking again, saying, “And we’ve got another request for a Josh Turner. Amber from Denver wants to hear ‘No Rush.’ So here it is, folks. I wonder if Amber is making a statement to someone in Denver.”
The piano music started off slow and then the violins joined in as Josh talked through the first few lines. He said they had something special and were right on the edge of falling in love. He talked about walkin’, talkin’, and dreamin’ with her. Then he said that he’d been wonderin’ if she’d been feelin’ it too, but there was no rush.
He kept a steady beat on the steering wheel, but the words spoke right to his own heart as Josh sang them. Gemma was the kind of woman he could walk, talk, and dream with through the whole journey of life, not just
a hot, wicked weekend. But he didn’t have a damn thing to offer her unless he walked away the winner in Vegas. She deserved better than a ranch foreman and he might not even be that if his Uncle Teamer sold the ranch to someone else and the new owner brought in his own crew.
“Shit!” He slapped the steering wheel so hard that Sugar jerked awake with a yip.
She looked at him with a question in her big eyes.
“Okay, I know you like her and you hated Ava, but dammit! Why am I even comparing the two of them? I don’t compare her to the woman I bought you for, so why do I group her and Ava together?”
Because it’s been a year since I had a woman in my bed and Ava was the last one. And because Gemma makes me crazy.
“And I don’t even know where I stand with her,” Trace told Sugar.
***
Gemma felt the energy of the rodeo before she even opened the door. The entire town of Cheyenne was geared up for a whole week, culminating with the big rodeo that night. They had a cattle roundup and brought them into town, carnivals, and all kinds of excitement before the rodeo.
But tonight belonged to her, and she’d glue the shamrock to the horseshoe and then go home for a week. She was humming when she stepped out into the bright sunlight.
She rounded the end of her truck at the same time Trace opened his door and stepped out. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled the driving kinks from his neck. Then he opened his arms and she walked into them.
He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. The remnants of coconut shampoo blended with the exotic perfume that she wore and stirred his pulse into a racing mode.
“Want to play a little poker right now?” he whispered huskily.
She giggled. “No, I do not.”
He leaned back and looked into her dark green dreamy eyes. “Afraid it might mess with your mojo?”
“Hell, yeah! I don’t meddle with the mojo, cowboy. After I win tonight then there’ll be time for poker and you can get ready to lose everything you are wearing. I’ve got a hankering for that shirt you will be wearing after the rides. It will be your lucky one, right?”
Just a Cowboy and His Baby Page 16
