RODEO MAN

by Margaret Watson

"What's wrong?" Grady turned to look at her.

  "I think someone is looking for you."

  As the man approached, Becca's chest tightened and her fingers curled around the rope. She'd never imagined she'd see Ron Perkins again.

  "Hey, Ron," Grady called, moving away from the horse. "What's up?"

  "I need to talk to you for a minute."

  "No problem," he answered easily. "But as long as you're here, you might as well meet our vet."

  No, Grady, she prayed, but it was too late.

  "Becca, this is Ron Perkins. He's an old friend of mine and now he's the ranch manager of the Flying W. Ron, this is Becca Johnson, also known as Doc."

  Becca extended a nerveless hand to Ron, and as he took it he looked at her for the first time. Shock bloomed in his eyes, a shock she was sure was reflected in hers. "Doc," he said briefly. He watched her carefully, waiting, no doubt, to see if she would tell Grady that they'd met before.

  That was something she had no intention of doing. She would not reveal how she'd humiliated herself to Ron Perkins, begging him to contact Grady for her. She couldn't bear to relive the desperation that had driven her to Ron, or the despair that had followed his refusal to lead her to Grady.

  "Mr. Perkins." Her voice was equally short. He hesitated for a minute, his eyes darkening as he watched her, then he turned to Grady. Becca slowly let out her breath when Ron didn't look at her again. It seemed he was no more anxious than she was to explain their past dealings to Grady.

  As the roar of blood pounding through her veins receded, she heard Ron talking to Grady about what needed to be done today. They talked as if they'd known each other for years. And they had, she reminded herself bitterly. They were close enough friends that Ron hadn't hesitated to turn away a pregnant woman begging him to tell her where to find Grady. She'd wondered if Grady had ever even mentioned her to Ron. The thought had only made her pain worse.

  Swallowing once, she tugged at the rope and led the horse away from the two men. Just before she turned the corner to the barn, she glanced back over her shoulder. Ron was still listening to Grady, but he was watching her. As he caught her eye, the expression on his face hardened.

  What could she do? she thought frantically as she stumbled over a stone in the dirt. She would have to leave. She had no other choice. Ron knew she'd been pregnant. She'd told him the baby was Grady's. All it would take was one slip of his tongue, and Grady would know.

  Didn't he have a right to know? The small voice inside her piped up again, refusing to be stilled. She'd wrestled with that voice all night and still hadn't decided what to do. Grady's rights versus Cassie's. On paper there was no contest. Cassie would always be first. But was it fair to Cassie to keep her father away from her?

  Shaking her head, she forced herself to put it out of her mind. She couldn't decide right now. And today her first responsibility was to Beau. Once she was sure he was all right, she could worry about Grady.

  An hour later, after managing to avoid Grady, she slipped back into the barn and put Beau in his stall. His intestinal sounds were close to normal, and he appeared to be pain free. When he snuffled over his empty food bucket and looked annoyed, she felt herself relax. If he was hungry, he was well on the road to recovery.

  Gathering up her equipment and the charts that Pat had left behind, she headed for her truck. She had everything stowed in its proper place and was getting ready to leave when Grady appeared.

  "Are you leaving?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Beau is much better. I'll be back to check him once more late in the afternoon, but I think he's going to be fine."

  She started to open the truck door, but Grady put his hand on the door to stop her. "We need to talk, Becca. Can you come into the house for a few minutes?"

  Her throat constricted as she studied his face. Had Ron said something to him about what had happened nine years ago? Did he already know about Cassie? It wouldn't take much for him to find out she had an eight-year-old daughter. "I have a lot of work waiting for me back at the clinic," she said, edging toward the truck. "I hurried out here and left a lot of things hanging."

  "You can call and find out if there's anything urgent, can't you?"

  She nodded reluctantly. "I suppose so."

  She hesitated for another moment, then followed him to the house. Grady held the door for her, and she was forced to pass too close to him. His heat seemed to reach out and caress her, a heat laced with his scent. It slammed into her, bringing back too vividly all the nights she'd dreamed about him, tossing restlessly in her too hot bed, consumed with wanting him.

  She didn't want him when she was awake and rational, she reminded herself. All she wanted now was a way out of her dilemma.

  "What is it, Grady?"

  "Didn't you need to call your clinic?" He raised one eyebrow at her, an expression that was haunting in its familiarity.

  She drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Yes, I did. Where's the phone?"

  He pointed to a telephone hanging on the wall, and as she headed for it she tried to calm herself. She would make it through this talk. She had made it through everything else that had happened in the past decade.

  "Stella?" she said when the receptionist answered the phone.

  Grady watched Becca speaking to her clinic and wondered why he'd asked her to come into the house and talk to him. He didn't have anything to say to her. Or at least nothing that couldn't be said as they stood next to her truck. His only concern with Becca Johnson was professional, he reminded himself. The only thing he wanted from her was good care of his animals.

  The hell it was. His gaze drifted down her body, again covered in denim and cotton, and his muscles tightened. The soft material couldn't hide the lush curves beneath it. She was even more desirable than she'd been nine years ago, and his hormones hadn't forgotten a thing.

  Neither had his mind. He moved abruptly away from her as he forced himself to remember their last conversation. She had played him for a fool, and he wouldn't quickly forget that. He'd been faithful to her during the long months on the rodeo circuit, dreaming of their future together, and all that time she'd been with "someone else."

  She hung up the phone and turned to face him. For a moment he thought he saw wariness in her eyes, then she blinked and her face was merely tired. "Everything appears to be under control," she said, and her voice sounded forced. "So what was it you wanted to discuss?"

  Her chin tilted into the air as if preparing for a blow, and he wondered why. As she watched him, the hint of vulnerability he saw in her eyes made him lean back against the wall and cross his arms in front of his chest. He had no intention of getting involved with her again.

  Sure, he wanted her. She was a desirable woman. And he was still breathing, after all. As he studied her, she stared back at him. Abruptly he turned away, afraid that if he watched her for another moment he would do something really stupid. Trying to quell his wayward body, he said gruffly, "This is probably as awkward for you as it is for me."

  There was no sound behind him for a moment, as if she was holding her breath. Finally she said, "Meeting each other again after all this time, you mean?" Her voice sounded cautious.

  "What else would I mean?" He swung around to face her. "Is there something else I should feel awkward about?"

  She shook her head, too rapidly. Her curls flew around her face. "Of course not." She shrugged, but the movement looked awkward and forced. "I've just never been in this situation before."

  He studied her face. She didn't quite look him in the eye, and he wondered why. Becca never had been able to lie worth a damn. And she'd never once lied to him. "What's going on, Becca?" he asked.

  Fear flashed in her eyes, but she gathered herself as he watched. Straightening her back, she swallowed once, then looked him in the eye. "What do you think is going on, Grady? I never imagined I would see you again. Now you're one of my clients, and we're both in an uncomfortable situation. If I continue as the Flying W's vet, we're going to be
seeing a lot of each other. Can you handle that? I'm not sure I can."

  "Why not, Becca?" Without thinking, he took a step closer to her. "It was over between us nine years ago. Wasn't it?"

  He moved another step closer, and her scent drifted around him. It was the scent burned into his memory, the same one that surrounded him at night when he woke from dreams, his body hard and aching. A fire ignited deep inside him and spread to every part of his body. "There's nothing between us, is there?"

  "Of course not. But we never had any kind of closure to our relationship. That's making things awkward for both of us." She spoke too quickly, her voice breathless. He watched her chest rise and fall beneath the T-shirt, and the flames licked at his belly.

  "Define awkward, Becca."

  Slowly, reluctantly she lifted her gaze to his. As their eyes met and held, the soft gray of her irises darkened until all he could think about was the way her body would feel pressed against his, the way her mouth would taste. He moved closer, so that every breath he drew was filled with her essence.

  "This is awkward," she whispered.

  "You're right," he said, moving closer and bending down so that his mouth was inches from hers. "It's damn awkward."

  "Grady, no," she murmured, her gaze locked with his. But she didn't move away.

  Her breath fanned against his mouth, stirring the need inside him even higher. He watched her for another moment, then lowered his lips to hers.

  Her taste exploded in his mouth, its familiarity a bitter taste on his tongue. Reaching out, he pulled her against him with hands that were anything but gentle. Desire swirled with anger and pain inside him, and he wanted only to punish her. He wanted to make her suffer, to lie awake at night and remember. He wanted her to wake from dreams aching with need, despising herself for her weakness.

  He wanted her pain to equal his.

  She murmured something incoherent against his lips, and he tightened his hold on her. Finally, through the red haze of his desire and anger, he felt her struggling against him. Disgusted with his lack of control, appalled at his behavior, he let her go. But when he would have moved away from her, she slid her hands up to his shoulders. Her fingers gripped him lightly, tentatively, but he was powerless to move.

  Her mouth was unsure as it clung to his, and slowly he wrapped his arms around her again. The rush of passion that swept over him at the touch of her mouth consumed his anger. There was room for nothing but her, and his anger and pain disappeared as his desire blazed out of control.

  His hands moved over her back, touching, remembering, savoring the changes. His fingers caressed the curve and swell of her hip, pulling her against him more tightly until every part of their bodies were touching. He heard her breath catch in her throat as he feathered his hand over her hip once more.

  He was on fire for her. Her breasts pressed against his chest, making his groin tighten to the point of pain. Sweeping his hand roughly up her back, he tangled his fingers in her hair to hold her head steady for his kiss. Her mouth moved under his, clinging to his lips with a desperation that matched his own.

  Her hands still gripped his shoulders, but now her fingers were digging in, holding on as if she would never let go. Grady groaned as he backed her up against the wall. She twined herself even more tightly around him as her mouth opened beneath his.

  His hips moved against hers as his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting and possessing. Sliding his hands down to her hips, he pulled her more tightly against him so that her soft core rested against the hard length of him. Her gasp feathered into his mouth, and he shuddered against her, helpless against the need that consumed him.

  She reached up to pull him closer, and her fingers slid into his hair. It was a familiar gesture, one that she'd done a thousand times before, one that he'd dreamed about a million times since. But that had been in another lifetime. One that he'd tried hard to forget.

  Slowly he lifted his mouth from hers and looked down at her. Becca's eyes were closed, her lids heavy with desire and her face tight with passion. Color suffused her cheeks, and he knew some of it was due to the friction of his whiskers against her delicate skin. Need spasmed inside him again, and he took his hands off her and moved away.

  Her eyes slowly opened and focused on him. He saw the exact instant that realization hit her. Hot color flooded her face, sweeping away the delicate tint of passion. The softness in her eyes vanished, replaced by mortification.

  She recovered her voice first. "I'm sorry, Grady. That should never have happened."

  "Still hot for me, Becca?" He wasn't sure the harsh words completely hid his panic.

  But he had miscalculated—she didn't turn and run. "I don't believe I was the one who initiated that kiss."

  He looked at her face, the face that had lived in his dreams for too long, and anger flared inside him again. "But you didn't fight it very hard, did you?"

  "I'm sorry," she said again. She stood up straight and slid her palms down the sides of her legs, almost as if she was wiping them off.

  "It's not that easy to wipe away what happened, you know."

  "Isn't it?" She gave him a cool look. "I've already forgotten."

  His entire body throbbed with anger, but he forced himself to lean back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He'd be damned if he'd let her see how that kiss had affected him. "A few minutes ago it didn't feel like you would be forgetting anything soon."

  For a moment her composure slipped, and he saw a vulnerable woman in her eyes. A woman who was unsure of herself and shaken by a passion she didn't want to feel. Then she gathered herself again and moved away from the wail. "A few minutes ago I forgot I had other obligations. That was all. I'll see you some other time, Grady."

  He had to admire her poise. If he hadn't noticed her hands shaking, he would almost have believed her. Almost. Because she couldn't have been faking the kiss they had shared.

  "Sure, Becca. I'll see you around." But he didn't move aside for her to leave. If she wanted to pass him, she would have to brush against him. The voice of his conscience roused from somewhere deep inside him. It told him he was being a first-class jerk, but he suppressed it easily.

  Her chest rose as she drew a shaky breath, but before she could speak. Tucker stuck his head in the room. The foreman looked past Grady and relaxed when he saw Becca standing near the wall.

  "Hey, Doc, I'm glad you're still here. Laura called. She's been trying to get you on the car phone. She needs you to call her back right away."

  Grady watched the color disappear from Becca's face as she took a step forward. "Is something wrong?"

  Tucker shrugged. "Laura didn't say. But she sounded pretty frazzled."

  "Who's Laura?" Grady asked.

  Ignoring his question, Becca slid past him and hurried out to her truck. Grady watched her through the window for a moment and saw her hand shaking as she stood near the truck and held the phone. As she talked, the tense expression drained from her face and she nodded once. When she replaced the phone, he could almost hear her sigh of relief.

  Grady pushed past Tucker and strode out to the yard. Ignoring the churning in his stomach, he laid one hand on Becca's arm, stopping her from getting into her truck. "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Nothing." She tried to smile but failed miserably. He could see the remnants of frantic worry in her eyes. "Only a small crisis, easily handled."

  "What is it, Becca?" he asked quietly. "Something sure as hell is wrong."

  "It's nothing, Grady." Her voice was stronger as she pulled her arm away from him and got in the truck. "Just something that I needed to know about."

  Tucker moved behind him. Grady hadn't realized that the foreman had followed him out of the house. "Everything okay with Cassie, Doc?"

  Becca went utterly still. Her face drained of color, and her hands tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles gleamed white. Finally, without taking her shocked eyes off the foreman's face, she whispered, "She's fine, Tuck
er."

  The foreman let out a sigh. "I was worried when Laura said she'd been trying to get hold of you. Kids can have accidents, especially little scamps like Cassie."

  "Who's Cassie?" Grady asked, staring at Becca. It felt like a hole had opened up in his stomach.

  Slowly Becca turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were huge and dark, and she reminded him of a trapped animal. She licked her lips once and said quietly, "Cassie is my daughter."

  "Your daughter?" His voice sounded as incredulous as he felt. Then another thought stabbed at him. "How old is she?" Grady leaned closer to Becca, his heart pounding.

  "She's eight."

  "Eight." Even after all these years, the pain of her betrayal surprised him. It slammed into his chest with the force of a hammer, and he curled his fingers around the door of her truck to stop himself from falling backward. She had been pregnant with someone else's child when she'd told him to get lost. "I guess when you said there was someone else, you weren't kidding, were you, Becca?"

  He saw the shock bloom in her eyes and didn't wait for more. Pulling his hands away from the door of her truck as if they were burned, he turned and walked away. The barn was almost within reach when he heard the sound of her truck starting. Stopping, refusing to turn around and watch her leave, he let the waves of pain wash over him as he listened to the sound of her engine fade into the distance.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  «^»

  Becca drove blindly, her eyes fixed on the dusty road but her mind still numb with shock. Grady thought Cassie was someone else's child. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It was her salvation, her way out, but her conscience wouldn't let her take it.

  She couldn't do that to Grady. He was Cassie's father, and he had a right to know. But not right now. Not until she knew him better. Becca swallowed hard, shifting her grip on the steering wheel. This might give her the breathing space she needed. She could ease into the subject with Cassie, getting her used to the idea of a father, and she could also get reacquainted with Grady. The more she knew about him, the easier it would be to figure out how to tell him. Maybe he had no interest in being a father. He still wanted to travel light. Maybe he would want nothing to do with Cassie.