And yet her son remained unconvinced. “I’ve never seen you here, going ranch to ranch, like everyone else,” Rand said.
Josie shrugged. “I came down last summer, ahead of everyone else, and made my connections then.”
Of course, Ginger thought. A lady wildcatter as successful as Josie McCabe would not let an opportunity like this one go unexplored. “Which is why you were invited to hear the Boernes’ stipulations on the bid process for their ranch.” Because Josie had already laid the groundwork.
Josie nodded. “Luckily, I’d heard the rumors the moratorium was about to be lifted. So I was already here.”
“And yet you didn’t say anything, when you saw us yesterday, about coming back to Summit,” Rand persisted, clearly unhappy. “Even when you knew that Ginger and I were returning today.”
Josie’s gaze narrowed with maternal rebuke. “I didn’t want you to think I planned to interfere in your marriage. Because I don’t. And I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to be arguing business on your wedding day.”
“It’s not a good idea for family to be arguing, period,” Ginger put in.
Never mind hovering around each other, under difficult circumstances, such as these.
“I agree.” Josie straightened, her manner brisk. “That is why I think you should recuse yourself, Rand. Let some other environmental impact engineer advise the residents of Summit County.”
Ginger looked at Josie, surprised and relieved to find them so like-minded. “That’s exactly what I told him,” she blurted.
Although that still left her and her new mother-in-law angling for the very same work, which wasn’t a good situation, either.
Rand harrumphed. “I’m not bowing out unless both of you also remove yourselves from the bidding process. And I don’t see that happening.” He paused, giving Ginger and Josie a hard, assessing look. “Do you?”
* * *
RAND EXPECTED GINGER to give him the silent treatment once they settled in his pickup. Instead she turned to him and asked, “Do you know what is in the fridge back at the cottage? I didn’t have a chance to look.”
He sighed. “Condiments and beverages, mostly.”
She glanced at her watch. “The grocery store in Summit is open until ten. Do you mind if we stop there before we head back to Red Sage?”
Rand’s mood brightened. This was the first thing she’d done that was the slightest bit domestic, and he liked seeing this side of her. “Sure. No problem.”
While he drove, she plucked the notepad and pen from her bag and made a list. She tore it in two as they headed inside. “If we each take a basket, it will be faster.”
And, Rand noted, they needed to be quick since they only had fifteen minutes until closing. It took every moment of that to get the items she had assigned him. When they met up at the line, the clerk rang up the items, he paid, and Ginger bagged.
Only when they got back to the cottage did he have a chance to really see what they had purchased. Steak, chicken, ground beef. Lots of fresh produce and fruit. Cereal. Milk. Juice. Several kinds of flour and sugar, spices and other baking items. Eggs.
“You planning to cook?”
“Are you?”
He lifted an affable shoulder. “I can grill.”
“Well, I can do everything else.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said cheerfully.
Ginger finished putting the refrigerator items away, then picked up the lone bag of chocolate sandwich cookies and a gallon of milk, and carried them, along with a glass, to the dining table.
She disappeared for a moment. He heard her hauling her suitcase out of the closet. More activity followed, then she came out with a bottle of prenatal vitamins in her hand. “Doctor’s orders,” she explained as she sank onto a chair and kicked off her shoes.
Rand moved to join her at the table. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” He cleared his throat, feeling oddly out of sorts. “Have you had any morning sickness yet?”
“Thankfully...no. I’m hoping to dodge that bullet altogether. I have friends who have been green around the gills for their entire pregnancy, and that would put a definite crimp in my work schedule.” Relaxing with a mixture of fatigue and relief, Ginger poured herself a tall glass of milk, downed a vitamin and then opened the bag of cookies.
Brow furrowing, she studied the interior of the package.
“Is there a problem?”
“I’m deciding how many to eat.”
He loved the fact she was, and probably always would be on some level, a total mystery to him. He also loved how cute she looked when she was mildly perplexed. He sauntered closer. “Are we rationing them?”
She wrinkled her nose and returned, in the same deadpan tone, “If I had as many as I wanted, I’d eat the whole package in one sitting.”
Rand laughed, not surprised she was greedy when it came to pure pleasure. So was he. He pulled out a chair, turned it around, sank onto it and folded his arms along the back. “So how many are you going to partake in, then?”
While she considered, Ginger let out a sexy little sigh. “Mmm. Two is too little, six is too much, even though there are six in the individual snack packs they sell.” Her luscious lower lip pushed out in a delectable pout. She squinted, still thinking, and finally said, “Probably four.” Decision made, she took four from the center row of the package.
Rand took four, too, from the same row, leaving complete rows on either side of the pillaged one. “I haven’t had these in a while.” He got up to get a glass for himself.
“Me, either. But I got to thinking about them while we were waiting for the meeting to start.” She opened up a cookie and licked the vanilla cream out of the middle.
Rand nearly groaned.
The milk he was pouring splashed over the rim. Ignoring the hardness pressing against his fly, he grabbed a dishcloth and mopped up the mess. Returning to the table, he sat opposite her. “Is it your first craving?”
Ginger made a face, clearly resenting his question. “Hey.” She lifted a staying hand. “I’m trying not to be a cliché.”
Rand watched, his mouth dry, as she dunked a chocolate circle into the milk, swished it around delicately, and then popped the soggy confection into her mouth.
“You could never be a cliché.” Unbearably sexy and sensual, yes.
Oblivious to the ardent nature of his thoughts, and the growing hardness of his lower body, she shot him a skeptical look and sighed. “You say that now...”
He meant it now. She was without a doubt the most fascinating and infuriating woman he had ever met. The woman he wanted most to bed...with or without his wedding ring on her finger.
Ginger sighed and broke open another chocolate sandwich cookie. “But when my mother finds out...”
He studied the troubled sheen to her dark green eyes, the slight tremble of her lower lip. “You think your mom will be happy about the baby?” he asked softly.
Ginger groaned. “Over the moon.” She patted Rand on the hand, then stood. Finished with her snack, she headed for the bedroom. “And that, ‘honeybunch,’” she drawled over her shoulder, mocking his earlier faux endearment, “is when the trouble starts.”
Rand had no idea what Ginger meant by any of that. But sensing she needed her space, he let her have her privacy, only heading for bed when he was certain she was sound asleep.
* * *
WHEN HE WOKE the next morning, a little after dawn, she was already up. Papers, computer, maps spread all over the living area of their cottage.
She was still in her pajamas, glossy hair knotted on top of her head, a mug of decaf coffee in her hand. A pan of cold oatmeal was on the stove. “You know there’s a free breakfast buffet at the main house every morning,” he reminded her.
She nodded.
“We could go over together.”
She barely looked up from the mounds of data she was studying. “No time.” She flashed a wan, distracted smile. “You go ahead. And don’t come into my temporary office. I don’t want you looking at any of my plans until the Boernes ask you to do so.”
He lifted a palm. “Firewall. I swear.”
“Good.”
Rand went to breakfast, ate and brought her something back.
She looked at the plate he carried in stunned amazement.
“In case you get hungry later.”
For a second she looked longingly at the quiche and fruit salad, then went right back to what she had been doing. “Thanks, that looks really good. Mind putting it the fridge?”
“No problem.”
Aware he had his own appointments to keep that day, he headed out, only to come in contact with an attractive fifty-something brunette in their front yard. She was dressed in oversize denim work clothes and engineer-style boots. A backpack laptop case slung over one sturdy shoulder, her hands were filled with rolled-up maps.
Rand paused to tip his hat. “Maria Gonzales, I presume?” He recalled Ginger mentioning the previous night that her drilling partner, a happily married woman with three teenage sons, would be here every day, working with her. And this woman sure fit the bill.
Dark eyes twinkled. “And you must be the never-stops-working-either Rand McCabe—the guy who finally got Ginger to settle down again.”
Rand didn’t know about that. His new wife still seemed to have both feet as far out the door as she could get, without raising any more eyebrows than they already had.
Maria put her maps down long enough to shake Rand’s hand. “I never thought I’d see the day, but I’m glad I am. Ginger needs a big strong hunk of burnin’ love like you to spice up her life.” She winked. “And the fact you’re doing it with wedding rings on your fingers is even better.”
Ginger appeared in the doorway. Her elegant cheekbones were highlighted with a rosy-pink flush. “Rand and I may be hitched—”
Temporarily, he could see that his new wife wanted to add, but wisely didn’t, lest she blow their cover.
“—but that doesn’t mean anything important about our lives is going to change,” Ginger finished, stubborn as ever.
The long-married Maria chuckled, picked up her maps and turned back to Rand. “I see you’ve both still got some ‘adjusting’ to do,” she teased.
Rand nodded, and just for the fun of it, hauled Ginger to him for a long, sexy, off-to-work kiss. “Uh-huh, and I’m aiming to help my beloved do just that.” He lowered his head and, ignoring Ginger’s soft gasp of surprise, pressed a hand to her spine and staked his claim with another steamy liplock.
Clearly shaken, Ginger broke off the kiss. Temper only he could see glittering in her dark green eyes, she flattened her hand across his chest and gave him a playful nudge, meant to throw off their audience. “Fun as this has been,” she feigned sweetly, “it’s time you went to task on something else.”
“What could be more important for a still-honeymooning couple than this?” Rand bantered back. He grinned, and just for the hell of it, he kissed his wife again, even more passionately this time. Her flush turned even deeper but there was no denying the subtle shift and surrender of her supple body, nestled against his. Eventually though, knowing they both had much to do, he let her go. “See you later,” he said. And heard only Ginger’s huff of embarrassment, and Maria’s laughter, as he strolled on down the walk.
* * *
WHEN RAND RETURNED that evening, he expected to find Ginger and Maria still hard at work. Instead Maria’s van was gone and there was a familiar white Cadillac in front of their cottage with the license plate #1TXMOM, and a small U-Haul behind it.
Beside it was a yellow pickup with the vanity plate WILDCAT.
Rand stared at the vehicles in shock. Had Ginger known about any of this? If so, she hadn’t said anything about expecting either of their mothers to come by.
He cut the ignition, got out and headed for the front door. He did not know what was going on, but he sure as heck was going to find out.
Chapter Six
“Mom, please...” Ginger’s tired voice floated out the open cottage window.
Rand tensed at Cordelia’s reply.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I have to be honest with you. I do not want to see you make the same mistakes that you made in your first marriage.” There was a long pause. “And from the looks of things, you’ve started your second marriage off on the wrong foot, too.”
“I really think,” he heard his mother interrupt kindly, “that all is not what it may seem.”
Figuring enough had been said, Rand walked through the front door.
Ginger was standing in front of the workstation she had made for herself, her hair still damp from the shower and coiled in a loose messy knot on top of her head. She was clad in one of his blue chambray shirts and a pair of her comfortable-looking khaki cargo pants and socks. She wore no makeup but looked sexy as all get-out, just the same.
Rand nodded at the three women. “Nice to see everyone.” He strode straight toward Ginger, took her in his arms and gave her the kind of kiss you would expect two people who were still technically in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, to give each other; the kind of kiss he had tried to give her that very morning.
This once, Ginger did not resist the open display of their passion. Maybe because she was as eager for respite from the familial scrutiny as he was.
Finished, Rand lifted his head. He caught the plea for help in her green eyes, then turned back to their mothers.
“So, what did I interrupt?” he asked.
Josie spoke first. “Cordelia called me while she was driving down, for directions to the place where you were staying. Since I just took a cottage here, I agreed to meet up with her in Summit and lead her out to the Red Sage.” She grimaced. “Unfortunately, there are no more cottages to be had. Hotel rooms, either, at the moment. Which is why I walked down to offer Cordelia lodging in my cottage this evening.”
Rand had to hand it to his mother. She might be a thorn in his side at times, but she also knew when to come to the rescue.
Ginger looked at Rand. “I also told Mom she could spend the night with us.”
“But I don’t think it’s a good idea to impose on newlyweds,” Cordelia told him demurely, “so I accepted Josie’s invitation.”
Thanks, Mom, Rand thought, telegraphing her a grateful look. “How long are you staying?” he asked his new mother-in-law.
“Just this evening. I have to be back at work the day after tomorrow, but I wanted you and Ginger to have all the wedding gifts that have poured in for you.”
Ginger smiled pointedly at Rand. “I tried to tell Mom we don’t need any of those things at the moment...”
“And I told my daughter,” Cordelia explained, “that all the gifts will help her to properly set up housekeeping, wherever the two of you end up.”
Rand looked out the window. The U-Haul trailer attached to Cordelia’s Cadillac looked small, but he knew from experience just how much the 5 x 8 compartment could hold.
“But not to worry. I’ve already sent thank-you notes for the two of you, too.”
Rand blinked in surprise.
“Mom thinks of everything,” Ginger allowed tightly.
Cordelia caught the irritation underlying her daughter’s too bright tone, and swung back to her only child. She propped her bejeweled hands on her hips. “You’re telling me that you and Rand would have had time to do that in the next month?”
Actually, Rand thought, they wouldn’t have.
“Those notes had to go out,” Cordelia huffed.
“And we thank you for it,” Rand said
. If this was an example of Cordelia’s usual helicopter parenting, no wonder Ginger was so flummoxed.
With an even brighter smile, Josie tried to push things along. “Back to the U-Haul.”
Rand jumped in before the situation deteriorated further, suggesting, “How about I do the heavy lifting and bring everything in?”
Cordelia beamed. “You’re such a dear.”
“I’ll go with you.” His mother followed him outside and down the short stone path to the vehicles. Together, they walked around the Cadillac and opened up the trailer. It was packed to the gills. As was, apparently, the trunk and interior of Cordelia’s Cadillac. Some of the gifts were still in shipping boxes, others just the store packaging. Rand handed one of the smaller boxes, marked Fragile, to his mother. “So what was going on back there before I walked in?” he asked casually.
Josie gestured for him to hand her one more. “Mother-daughter squabble.”
The distressed look on Ginger’s face said it had been much more. Rand took a large, heavy box marked Cookware. “Who was winning?” he mused.
Boxes balanced under her chin, Josie pivoted and headed up the walk. “Who do you think?”
As they neared the open window, Rand could hear female voices rising inside the cottage once again. He said, “I wouldn’t count Ginger out.”
“I’m not.” A new respect laced Josie’s low tone.
Their eyes meeting, they paused on the sidewalk. “Do me a favor?” Rand asked.
His mom nodded, amenable.
“Do whatever you have to do to divert Cordelia so I have time to talk to Ginger alone.”
* * *
“YOU’RE SURE YOU want to go out for dinner this evening?” Cordelia asked a good twenty minutes later when all the boxed wedding gifts had been brought inside and stacked together in neat rows on the screened-in porch. It was the only place in the small abode where they could even hope to be out of the way.
With a smile, Rand jumped in to persuade her. “It will be a chance for the four of us to get to know each other better.”
“But we’ll need to get cleaned up first,” Josie commented, linking her arm through Cordelia’s. “So let’s walk down to my cottage.” She smiled. “We’ll stop by the office on the way, and speak to them about bringing in a roll-away bed.”
THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY Page 7
