RODEO MAN

by Margaret Watson

  He must have moved because she looked up with a start. "Grady," she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

  "I told you I'd bring lunch." He held up the bag.

  "I don't have time to eat."

  "That's not the Becca I remember," he teased. "You used to eat anything that wasn't nailed down."

  A shadow passed over her face, and she pushed her chair farther away from him. "Things change, Grady. I'm not hungry and I have a lot to do today."

  "You can spare a few minutes for lunch."

  She sighed as she threw her pencil onto her desk. "You're still as stubborn as a Missouri mule, aren't you?"

  "Nope," he said, pulling a chair away from one of the other desks and sitting down. "I'm worse. Now, are you going to eat?"

  Her mouth curved briefly in a reluctant smile, and she reached for the bag. "It depends on what's in here."

  Grady stilled as she pulled the sandwich and chips out of the bag, suddenly realizing what he had done. He wanted to snatch the bag away from her, but it was too late.

  She stared at the roast-beef-and-cheese sandwich for a long time, and when she looked up at him her eyes had softened. "You remembered what kind of sandwich I like."

  He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Amazing what you can pull out of your subconscious, isn't it?"

  Becca didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed on the bag of chips. "And the chips, too," she whispered.

  He had chosen her favorite brand of barbecue corn chips. "They didn't have a very big selection at the restaurant," he muttered.

  She reached out and touched the bag that contained the chips. As he watched her fingers linger on the foil, unbidden memories of picnics they had shared in the past came surging back. Of Becca touching him, her fingers skimming over his skin with a touch that burned all the way down to his soul.

  When her eyes met his, he realized that she was thinking about the same thing. Her gray eyes were hot and dark, full of memories he wanted only to forget.

  "So tell me about Ames," he said, his voice harsh and too loud.

  "Ames?" Becca's voice was low and throaty in the silence of the office. He heard the confusion in her tone, then watched as she realized what he'd said. She looked down for a moment, and when she looked back at him the heat had disappeared from her eyes, leaving them cool and closed. "What about him?"

  "Are you seeing him?"

  "What?" Her shock was clear, and he found himself relaxing back into his chair, unclenching hands he hadn't even realized he'd fisted.

  "You know, dating him."

  "Not that it's any of your business who I'm dating, but no. I avoid Sy Ames whenever possible."

  "That's not what I heard."

  She stared at him for a moment, then said, "You should know better than to listen to gossip, Grady."

  He ignored the relief that flooded him. "Then is he bothering you?"

  "I imagine Sy will be leaving Cameron now that he doesn't own the Flying W."

  "I don't give a damn about his travel plans. I asked if he was bothering you."

  "There's no need for you to be concerned about what happens between me and Sy Ames."

  Her eyes flashed at him, but he ignored their warning. "I bought the Flying W from him. I have a right to know if there's going to be trouble."

  "So you didn't win the ranch from him in a poker game." He scowled at her. "Don't change the subject, Becca. Is Sy bothering you?"

  She leaned back in her chair and watched him. "I fail to see how anything that happens between me and Sy is going to affect the Flying W."

  "Damn it, Becca, don't dance around the question. Tell me what's going on between the two of you."

  "I know more about most of the people in Cameron than I know about you, Grady," she said gently. "Why should I confide in you?"

  He sighed and shoved his hand through his hair, feeling a twist of pain at her words. "You're right. But when I saw him in the clinic earlier, I wanted to tear his throat out. I don't like the idea of him harassing you."

  Her eyes softened again. "Thank you for being concerned, Grady. But you have enough going on right now, and Sy will be leaving. It's nothing you have to worry about."

  But he was going to worry about it anyway. "I'll tell you what. We'll have a swap of information. I'll tell you what you want to know about the ranch, and you tell me about Sy Ames."

  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds fair. You go first."

  A reluctant smile curved his mouth. "No way. You tell me about Sy first. He's the problem, not the ranch."

  Studying his face, she finally smiled back. "You always were a better negotiator than me. All right. Sy it is."

  Her smile faded, and she crossed her arms over her chest. He didn't miss the gesture, even though he was pretty sure it was an unconscious one. It told him all he needed to know about Sy Ames.

  "Shoot," he said, his voice too curt.

  "I didn't notice anything at first," she began, her gaze fixed on something in her mind. "I was flattered when he requested that I do all the veterinary work at the ranch, and I didn't pay attention to the fact that he was always around when I went out to the Flying W." She looked at him then and shrugged. "I guess I was pretty naive. One day there was no one else in the stable, and he tried to corner me in a stall. I told him in no uncertain terms to back off, and that was the last time he tried to touch me. But he was always there when I was treating one of his animals, watching. He gave me the creeps," she said frankly. "But as far as I know, being creepy isn't illegal."

  "Do you really think he's going to leave Cameron?" Grady struggled to keep his voice level, to control the killing rage that welled up inside him.

  "I don't know why he would stay. He didn't grow up here. He bought the Flying W about five years ago, and now that he doesn't have it anymore, what would hold him here?"

  You. He didn't want to voice the thought. "Why did he come by here today?" he asked.

  "He was asking me out," she replied, not meeting his eyes. "It doesn't matter since he's gone."

  It mattered, Grady thought grimly, but he didn't say anything to Becca. Instead he shrugged, reaching for his sandwich.

  "You owe me some information before you start eating," she reminded him.

  He forced himself to flash her a grin. "I was hoping you'd forget."

  "Not a chance, Farrell."

  He set the sandwich down with a show of reluctance, delighted that she seemed to have put Ames out of her mind. "There is some truth to the rumor about the poker game."

  "What happened?"

  "I was in a poker game with Sy and a few other guys down near Las Vegas. I'd been doing some work for one of them, but I'd never met Sy. It was down to Sy and I, and the pot was pretty big. He was pretty confident that he was a winner, so he'd thrown in some IOUs. When I won, he couldn't cover them."

  He wouldn't tell her that one of the other men had caught Sy cheating. Just like he wouldn't tell her about the hatred that had poured from Sy as he'd laid his cards on the table.

  "So that's how you got the Flying W?"

  "Not quite. I bought the ranch from him, fair and square. The money he owed me from the poker game made a nice down payment. But I kicked in more of my own money, and I took over a hefty mortgage."

  "So Sy has nothing to complain about."

  "Not a thing," he said flatly. "He got a good price for the ranch. Hell, I did him a favor. He would have lost the place completely in a couple of years."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I haven't had a chance to go over all the books, but he wasn't managing the Flying W very well. It should be making a lot more money than it has been."

  "So Sy has no reason to hold a grudge against you."

  "That's never stopped anyone in the past." He stood up from the chair, suddenly anxious to leave. He had been sitting here, talking to her like the past had never happened. For a moment she had been the Becca of nine years ago, a woman who would never lie to him, who always told him exac
tly what she thought. In another minute he would have been asking her advice. "Be careful of Sy, Becca. For as long as he's around."

  Carefully she brushed the crumbs of the sandwich into a napkin. "I will. Thanks for telling me what happened with the ranch."

  She leaned over to throw the napkin in a wastebasket, and the T-shirt pulled taut against her chest, outlining her breasts and the slender curve of her waist. Grady closed his eyes as a wave of desire crashed over him. Forget it, buddy, he told himself. Becca was the last woman on earth he intended to get involved with. And she had made it clear she felt the same way about him.

  "Thanks for having lunch with me," he said as he was halfway out the door. "Let me know when we can discuss my herd."

  "Goodbye, Grady." He heard her words as the door of the clinic clicked shut behind him. He was sure he only imagined the sadness in them.

  * * *

  Becca stood at the window and watched Grady leave, even though she told herself to get back to work. He had only stopped in to talk business with her, and that was the way she wanted it. Although they hadn't ended up talking about his herd at all.

  Forcing herself to look away before his red truck pulled out of the parking lot, she sat down at her desk and pulled one of the patient files toward her. But the file swam in front of her eyes, and she finally shoved it away and left the clinic.

  She had actually been enjoying spending time with Grady. For the brief time they'd been together, she had allowed herself to think only of Grady. There had even been a moment when desire for him had stirred inside her. Appalled with herself, guilty, shaken, she gripped the steering wheel more tightly and abruptly turned the truck down a side street.

  Easing her foot off the accelerator, she automatically slowed down when she neared the park. Laura brought the kids here about this time every day during the summer, and Becca looked for Cassie's dark head as she drove slowly by.

  Cassie was playing a game with several other girls and boys, and Becca smiled as she watched them run and yell. In spite of the long hours she'd had to work both in vet school and afterward, her daughter was a happy, well-adjusted child. Becca vowed fiercely to herself that nothing would change that

  What would happen when Cassie found out that her father was now living in Cameron? The panic that had been hovering over Becca all week enveloped her again, making her heart race and her hands tremble. How could she do that to Cassie? What would Grady say when she told him? Grady had always wanted to "travel light" through life. He'd told her so again just a few days ago. How would he feel about having a child? Would he be mad? Indifferent? Would his fury spill over and hurt Cassie, even accidentally?

  Her thoughts tumbled over one another as she sped away from the park and headed out of town. Should she leave, sell her interest in the practice back to her partners and move? Should she tell Grady the truth? Should she lie, tell him that Cassie was someone else's child?

  Grady had a right to know, her conscience reminded her. But whose rights were more important, Grady's or Cassie's? Swallowing a sob, she pulled off the road and buried her face in her hands.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  «^»

  The next morning Becca stumbled into the clinic, her head aching and her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. She'd spent the night tossing and turning, and was still no closer to an answer.

  "Good morning, Dr. Johnson," Stella chirped at her. "Hi, Stella." Becca took a gulp from the cup of coffee she held and picked up her messages from the counter. Her eyes zeroed in on the paper that said "Flying W."

  Scanning the message, which just said she needed to go out to the ranch right away, she laid it down as her heart began to pound. "What's going on at the Flying W?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  "Dr. O'Connor has been out there most of the night," the receptionist answered. "One of their horses has colic."

  "What happened?" she asked sharply.

  Stella shrugged. "I have no idea. Dr. O'Connor just called and asked that you relieve him as soon as possible."

  Becca shuffled through the rest of her messages and found nothing urgent. "Call him and tell him I'm on my way. Then you can call the rest of these people and tell them I had an emergency."

  Hurrying out to her truck, she drove carefully through the outskirts of town, then pressed the accelerator to the floor. When she got to the ranch, she jumped out of the truck almost before it had stopped and rushed into the barn.

  Her partner stood in front of a stall, his arms resting on the top of the door. "Hi, Pat," she called, and he turned.

  "Hi yourself, Rebecca." He gave her a smile, although his face was gray with fatigue. "I think he's going to be all right."

  She looked at the horse who was standing quietly, his head hanging down, and realized with a pang that it was Beau. "What happened?"

  Pat O'Connor shrugged. "Who knows? It was colic, but we couldn't figure out why." He detailed the medication the horse had been given, then stepped away from the stall. "He's your baby now. I'm going home to get some sleep."

  The other vet moved out of the barn as someone else entered, and she knew without looking that it was Grady. She wouldn't allow herself to turn around and look at him. She was too afraid of what he would see in her eyes.

  "We missed you last night," he said, his voice gravelly from lack of sleep.

  She did turn around then. "I don't take emergencies at night."

  "So Dr. O'Connor said. How come, Becca?"

  "Because that's what it says in my partnership agreement."

  He let his gaze linger on her for a moment, and she struggled to keep her eyes steady. She refused to let him see the fear his words stirred. As she watched him, she realized that his face was shadowed with a day's growth of beard, and the bright blue of his eyes was smudged with fatigue. She had no doubt he'd been here all night with Pat O'Connor, and something stirred inside her that wasn't fear.

  "I thought all vets handled emergency calls," he finally said.

  "I don't." She stepped into the stall, as much to get away from Grady as to examine the horse.

  She listened to Beau's heart and examined his eyes, then gently palpated his abdomen. Everything seemed to have settled down. "Let's get him moving," she said, snapping a lead onto the horse's halter.

  Grady moved away as she led the animal out of his stall, then fell in beside her as she led Beau out into the sunlight. "Is he going to be all right?" His voice was quiet, but she heard the concern in it.

  "Pat thinks so," she said, glancing over at him. He was watching the horse with worry in his eyes, and she felt her heart soften just a little.

  "What do you think?"

  He was walking next to her, and his hand brushed against her arm as they left the barn. Heat swept through her and settled in her chest. It was only the sun, she assured herself. It was unusually warm, even for early summer.

  "What do you think, Becca?"

  His voice jerked her back to reality. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

  "I asked if you thought Beau was going to be all right."

  "I think so," she said, forcing herself to concentrate on the animal. "He's past the crisis point, anyway. Once we get the results of the blood tests and ultrasound that Pat did, we'll have a better idea."

  "The horses were restless last night," Grady said finally as they walked.

  She looked over at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

  "I heard them out in the barn, snuffling and moving around. I went out to check, but I didn't see anything wrong."

  Grady reached over to pat Beau's face, and his hand accidentally brushed her arm. Heat seared her, and she jerked away from him.

  "Maybe they sensed Beau was getting sick," she finally said.

  "Maybe."

  They walked in silence for a while. Grady stayed next to her, and with every casual brush of his hand her temperature crept higher. Walking next to him was like walking beside an electrical field. She felt like she was being pulle
d into it against her will. Shifting the rope to her other hand, she ducked under the horse's head and moved his other side.

  Grady glanced over at her, and she could see an echo of her awareness in his eyes. No, I won't allow it, she told herself frantically. She wasn't attracted to him, and she wasn't going to get involved with him.

  "You don't have to walk with me," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I'm going to walk him for a while, and I'm sure you must have other things to do."

  "Not a thing," he replied, reaching up to touch the home. "My new ranch manager arrived today, and he's fully capable of running the place without me for one day."

  "So you're just going to follow me around all morning?" She couldn't keep the sharpness out of her voice.

  "I trust you, Becca. But Beau is my home. I want to be here."

  His words didn't really surprise her. From the time he was very young, Grady had taken great pains to watch over any animals in his care. His mother, who had died when he was ten years old, had been the same way. Becca remembered the incident she had witnessed when he was only fifteen. He had beaten a ranch hand on his father's ranch because the man had mistreated a home. Her mouth tightened as she also remembered that the incident had ended with Grady's father beating him.

  Shifting her hand on the rope again, she stopped and examined Beau's abdomen again. He stood quietly while she worked, docile from the tranquilizer he'd been given. When she folded her stethoscope into her pocket, she looked up to see Grady watching her.

  Forcing herself to smile, she said, "It sounds good. I do think he's going to recover."

  Grady nodded, but she saw his face relax. She turned away so she wouldn't have to see the caring on his face. He'd always cared about his animals, she reminded herself. It was the people in his life that he'd had a problem with.

  As they walked in the sun, she saw a man approaching them from her side. When he was ten yards away, she stopped abruptly.