The Cowboy Takes A Bride (The Bridal Bid #2)

by Cathleen Galitz

  Caitlin was not patient by nature. She placed a call to her mother, urging her to make final peace with her estranged husband. “Before it’s too late,” she entreated with a broken sob.

  The heartfelt request was met by silence and followed with a deep, long sigh. “If it means that much to you, dear, I’ll think about it.”

  “I would think it would mean something to you, Mother,” Caitlin chided before hanging up the phone. If a life-and-death emergency could not melt her mother’s heart, she didn’t know what could.

  Unable to contain her anxiety to a sofa and one of the old magazines littering the room, she joined Grant in wearing a path in the nubby beige carpet. Tiring of pacing, he left momentarily to prowl the hospital corridors and returned with two cups of coffee.

  Caitlin cradled the cup in her hands and watched the steam curl upward with her prayers.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time your old man saved my hide in a little dive outside of Tea Pot Dome?” Grant asked, settling himself beside her on the couch.

  Of course he hadn’t. Antagonistically positioning themselves for Paddy’s favor, they had spent most of their time together doing everything they could to avoid conversation. Up until this very moment it hadn’t occurred to either of them to share their mutual affection for the big man who took up so much room in their hearts.

  Caitlin found that she was as hungry for Grant’s stories as he was eager to tell them. Some were funny, some touching, all illuminated the depth of his love for her father. Regretting that she had initially misjudged him as an opportunist, she listened as he recounted how he had initially blamed Paddy for his father’s death.

  “And did your mother blame Dad for her husband’s death too?” she asked.

  “No—she blamed God instead.”

  The pain of that statement was evident in the shadow that passed over his face.

  “Did she ever get over it?”

  “I trust she’s made her peace with God by now.”

  During the long pause that followed, Grant’s blue eyes turned the color of ice. Caitlin shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Nobody does,” he responded with a hoarse crack in his voice. “My mother loved my father so much that she simply couldn’t live without him. If she hadn’t taken her own life, I’m sure she would have died of a broken heart.”

  Caitlin’s own heart was rent in two as she came to understand how Grant’s gruff exterior hid a horrible hurt buried deep inside him. The possibility of losing her own father beneath a surgeon’s scalpel was enough to send tears coursing down her face.

  “I can’t imagine…I’m so sorry,” she said, taking his hand into her own and holding it against her cheek. It felt rough and strong and real. Without thinking, she brought it to her lips and kissed its callused palm.

  The sweetness of the gesture loosened something that had been lodged in his heart for years. When Caitlin gently pressed him to continue, Grant found himself talking openly about his past for the first time ever.

  “My Aunt Edna was my only living relative. She dutifully took me in, and then proceeded to swindle me out of the Social Security checks I signed over to her with the understanding that they were going into a college fund. No one could believe that such a God-fearing, self-sacrificing woman had secretly spent my money setting up a nice little nest egg for herself.”

  Caitlin shook her head in disbelief. It was hard to imagine anyone being so cruel to a member of her own family. Since it was bound to remind him of shattered dreams and betrayal, it was little wonder Grant was so bitter every time the issue of her education came up.

  “By the time I figured out what she had done, I was a ticking time bomb set to go off. That’s when I showed up at Paddy’s rig the very day after graduating from high school, blaming him for my father’s death and demanding fair compensation for my loss.”

  Caitlin was amazed to see a grin flicker across Grant’s face. “Your father set me straight in short order. Said if I wanted a piece of him I was welcome to try. I didn’t know then that he was haunted by his own demons. How some snot-nosed kid couldn’t heap any more blame on him than he did himself. I didn’t know at the time that the accident cost Paddy his own family. All I knew was that he was actually offering me a chance to make something of myself.”

  Grant fixed Caitlin with eyes the color of undying loyalty. “I owe your father a whole lot more than my job. I owe him my self-respect and my dignity as a man of my word.”

  For somebody who prided herself on stalwart behavior, Caitlin felt like a leaky fountain. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

  “You have no idea what it means to have you share that with me.”

  Grant caught one of her errant tears with his thumb and wiped it away. “Your old man’s one tough bird,” he assured her. “Don’t give up on him yet.”

  Beneath the cold fluorescent lights of the waiting room, they opened hearts long sealed to others’ scrutiny and took solace in the swapping of intimate remembrances. When Caitlin broke down in the middle of recounting a rather funny story of how her father had deliberately sabotaged one of her dates to whom he’d taken an immediate dislike, Grant didn’t think of the repercussions when he took her into his arms. He just did it.

  Caitlin accepted the comfort in the strong arms encircling her, in the sound of the heart beating beneath her ear, in the smell of a shirt stained by honest labor. Without a thought to propriety, she turned her head toward him and offered him her lips.

  Their first kiss had been born of passion and anger, the second of fear and relief. This one was delivered of such infinite tenderness that Caitlin was carried away from this frightening, sanitized place on the wings of enchantment. The sensation of Grant’s lips upon hers, his hands massaging her spine, his masculine scent permeating her senses was balm to an aching spirit. Caitlin had often wondered what it would be like to kiss this man if she were to actually come to like him.

  Now she knew.

  It was heaven. As pure and simple as the concept of man and woman.

  The feeling transcended time and place. Never before had Caitlin felt so wonderfully protected, so thoroughly cherished as a woman. The tension that had been holding her together melted like butter in the sun. Her muscles grew loose, her limbs heavy as she clung to him in desperation.

  Running a hand down the length of her dark hair, Grant stroked her as gently as if he were quieting a frightened colt.

  “Get some rest, darling,” he whispered, tracing a heart upon one cheek with an index finger. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”

  Rest was the last thing on Caitlin’s mind as her pulse responded to the loving endearment. Certain that the booming of her heart alone was more than enough to keep them both awake through the long night, she allowed herself the luxury of resting her head against the formidable wall of Grant’s chest. Smooth and hard, warm and comforting, it symbolized the man himself.

  Grant felt her quiver before going lax in his arms.

  Unguarded in light, troubled sleep, Caitlin was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Pale and ethereal in the dim light, she looked so vulnerable that his heart lurched with the desire to protect her at all costs. A single word echoed in his brain as he looked upon her.

  Mine!

  He knew it was nothing short of craziness to allow such a possessive word to creep into his mind. Caitlin Flynn could no more belong to him than he could claim the solar system. Aside from the fact that she was raised in the lap of luxury and educated in the finest schools, she was the daughter of his best friend. A man he had inadvertently put in the hospital.

  Assuming that Paddy had believed the worst when he stumbled upon his daughter pinned to the rig floor, Grant held himself responsible for the strain to his heart. If he ever got up out of that hospital bed, he expected Paddy would want to rip his head off. He certainly wouldn’t want to entertain any proposals from someone with nothing more than a high s
chool diploma and a stake in a floundering company.

  Besides, it was hopeless to wish for anything more than a tentative truce to ever develop between them. And feeling the way he did about Caitlin, friendship was out of the question. He wanted this woman as none other before, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it without dishonoring the man they both held above all others.

  Grant’s arms tightened possessively about her as he allowed his eyelids to drift shut on an intolerable situation.

  Sunlight was creeping softly across the tiled floor when he awakened later. The awareness of a sweet heaviness on his chest, foreign and infinitely warm, brought him out of a dream state to the realization that he had somehow dozed off. Looking down upon the woman cuddled up against him, Grant felt a pang of longing unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  What would it feel like to awaken every day to such a woman in your arms? To count her as your most precious belonging? To hold love tangibly against your heart at the start and the end of your day?

  Caitlin stirred beneath Grant’s reflection and sent his thoughts skittering like leaves on a bonny autumn wind. Long ago he had come to accept the fact that he was fate’s orphan. Wishful thinking was foolishness, plain and simple. Though Caitlin’s kisses were the closest thing to heaven Grant ever hoped to experience, they could not erase the differences in education and background that were certain to come between them.

  A tiny spot of moisture upon his shirt caused Grant to smile. Certain that such an unladylike indiscretion as dribbling in her sleep would cause Caitlin enormous embarrassment, he tucked the endearing detail away in his memory. His mother had once remarked that what she missed most about her husband was the small imperfections that had somehow made him completely hers. Before this moment, he had never understood exactly what she meant.

  The sun cast such a rosy halo about Caitlin’s hair that Grant hesitated to disturb it by running a hand over its glossy fullness. But like the sailors heeding the mermaid’s soulful serenade, he could not resist its magical pull.

  Her eyes fluttered open at his touch.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said.

  “Good morning,” she mumbled, snuggling even deeper into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world to awaken next to him. Her eyelashes grew heavy again for a blessed moment before they snapped open to reveal the disorientation in their sea-green depths.

  “Where?” she stammered. “What time is it?”

  Behind them someone cleared her throat.

  Caitlin jumped out of Grant’s arms like a teenager caught necking by the local police.

  A nurse considered their rumpled state as she approached them. “I understand you arrived here late last night and are awaiting word on Paddy Flynn.”

  They nodded simultaneously.

  “Since he saw no reason to wake you, the doctor told me to tell you that the surgery went well. Mr. Flynn has been moved out of intensive care and is resting now. The doctor will be in later this morning to answer any questions you might have. If you’d like to freshen up in the meantime, we do have a guest bathroom reserved for displaced, out of town family members.”

  As much as Caitlin wanted to pump the woman for information about her father, she knew the doctor was the one who had the answers. Grimy, gritty, and stiff from a night spent curled up on lounge furniture, she gratefully accepted the nurse’s offer.

  They followed her to the hospitality room. Not intended for long-term use, it was neither spacious nor luxurious. It did, however, offer clean towels, a few personal hygiene items, and access to a shower. Caitlin went first, mindful to hurry so that Grant would have a chance to clean up as well before the doctor arrived.

  They were back in the waiting room within the hour. It was unfortunate that neither one had brought a change of clothes, but a shower did wonders for both their appearance and attitude. With hair still wet, they anxiously awaited word from the doctor.

  He showed up a few minutes later, looking red-eyed and weary.

  “I take it you’re Paddy’s daughter?” he asked Caitlin.

  Grant cast a protective eye at her as she nodded in affirmation. Frail and frightened, she was on the verge of collapse.

  “I’m Doctor Welsh, the surgeon who operated on him.” He attempted to stop the questions that flew at him with hands extended outward in a manner reminiscent of a traffic cop. “He’s had a heart attack. A serious one. Two arteries were almost completely blocked.”

  Caitlin clutched Grant’s hand and leaned involuntarily into him. Her eyes were hollows of fear.

  “He keeps mumbling something about making a bonus good with somebody named Grant. And he wants to see the man immediately.”

  Looking as if somebody had sucker punched her, Caitlin protested, “There must be some mistake. Surely my father asked to see me as well.”

  “No, he was very insistent. He wants to see Grant—alone.”

  Stunned, she looked at Grant through betrayed eyes. Her whole life had been a prolonged attempt to please her father, and in this critical moment, he wanted not her but the son he never had. If Paddy had but a few moments remaining as she was afraid, it seemed sacrilegious to spend them squaring up some damned business deal with Grant—or changing his will so that she was left completely out. Old fears about him being a con man out to swindle her father out of his company reared their ugly heads. The blood pounding in her head apparently was no thicker than water.

  “I’m Grant,” he said without missing a beat. “What’s his room number?”

  The doctor hesitated a moment before divulging that information. “I want you to know that this is against my better judgment, but Mr. Flynn is a very persistent man.”

  This brought a tight smile to Caitlin’s lips. If her father were up to fighting the doctors, maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought.

  “And very weak at the moment. I’ve got to be honest with you. We’ve moved him to Intensive Care, but he may not make it through the night. He’s asked for a priest as well.”

  The doctor’s words roared in Caitlin’s ears like a hurricane beating the coastline. The request for a priest could mean only one thing. Paddy wanted Last Rites administered before he died.

  The only thing that kept Caitlin from falling down was Grant’s strong arms wrapped about her.

  Nine

  “I need to talk to you about something important,” Paddy croaked, lifting a shaky hand to touch the younger man’s arm.

  Grant choked back the fear that this place evoked in him. Hospitals always smelled to him of death, and he made a point of avoiding them.

  “If it’s about the rig, don’t worry,” he assured his old friend with a convincing lie. “Everything’s under control. I don’t want you wasting any of your energy fretting about the well not paying off. We’re so close to striking oil that I can smell it. And you know my instincts are never wrong.”

  Paddy’s attempt at a smile came out more as a grimace. “My concern is more on a personal level. It’s about you—and my daughter.”

  A muscle leapt in Grant’s jaw. Certain that it was the compromising sight of him wrestling Caitlin to the ground that had sent the older man to the hospital in the first place, he was anxious to put Paddy’s mind at ease.

  “It’s not at all what it looked like, sir,” he added deferentially. “You have to know that I had no intention of hurting your daughter—ever. It’s just that when the pipe swung loose, I—”

  “That’s not it,” Paddy interrupted, vainly trying to lift a hand in the air to brush the offensive assumption away. He swallowed painfully before continuing. “Staring death in the face brings things into focus pretty fast. I realize that there are far more precious things than business to put in order before I cash in my chips. Far too important to be left to chance after my death.”

  Grant’s brow wrinkled in perplexity.

  “Sit down, son.”

  The use of that loving word sapped the strength from Grant�
�s knees and made him glad to reach for a chair. He pulled it up close to the bed.

  “I once promised you a bonus for a job well done, and I don’t want to go to my maker until I make good on the deal.”

  Grant shook his head in disbelief. “This is hardly the time to discuss—”

  “My time’s running out,” Paddy rasped. “I’ve been thinking about how pride stands in the way of a man’s dreams. Pride and circumstances.”

  Reflecting on the circumstances that had taken his parents away from him, Grant nodded in agreement. His heart swelled with love for the remarkable man who had taken him in as a surrogate son. Even without the well paying out, was it possible that Paddy had somehow managed to put aside enough money to help him buy the ranch he had his heart set on?

  The very thought brought stinging tears of gratitude to his eyes. It was unbelievable that this man could be so utterly selfless at such a critical time. In light of Paddy’s ill health, acquiring his lifelong dream seemed small indeed.

  “I’d rather you focus on getting well, Paddy,” he said, swallowing against the growing lump in his throat. “I know you’re worried about that bonus you’ve mentioned before, but you don’t owe me a thing. It’s the other way around.”

  The tears stinging his eyes were a surprise. Grant hadn’t cried since the day his mother died. When he spoke again, his voice was tight with emotion. “If there’s anything I can do to make you happy, just tell me and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”

  The look upon his face left no doubt that he’d move a mountain rock by rock if that what his best friend and mentor wanted him to do.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” Paddy said. Dark clouds of doubt cleared from his eyes as he caught and held Grant in the sincerity of their aging blue depths. “I’ve watched you change from an angry boy with a chip on his shoulder into a man of character and principle. The kind of man I’d feel comfortable leaving my company to.”