RODEO MAN

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RODEO MAN Page 8

by Margaret Watson


  Before she went into her room, she went into Cassie's, just like she did every night. The last thing she did before she slept was check her daughter.

  Cassie sprawled in the center of her bed, her blankets sliding onto the floor. She was a restless sleeper, and Becca picked up the blanket and covered her again before she pressed a kiss to her daughter's sweet-smelling hair.

  "I won't let him hurt you," she whispered into Cassie's hair. "No matter what happens, you won't be hurt. I promise."

  Smoothing her hand down the silk of Cassie's hair, Becca kissed her once more, then backed out of the room. Cassie was a wonderful child, happy and well-adjusted. Nothing was going to change that, she vowed.

  * * *

  Two days later Becca woke up in the morning to hear Cassie whimpering." Running into the other bedroom, she found her curled up in a ball in the center of her bed. Her blankets were on the floor, as usual, and Cassie was shivering.

  "What's the matter, honey?" Becca asked.

  "My tummy hurts," Cassie cried. "And my head. I don't feel good, Mommy."

  Becca touched her daughter's head and found it burning hot. "You have a fever, sweetheart," she said. Pulling the blanket over her daughter, she added, "You probably have what Jenny and Todd had."

  "I don't want to throw up," Cassie whimpered. "That's yucky."

  "Maybe you won't." She smoothed her hand clown Cassie's hair, brushing it behind her ear. "Stay here in bed while I call the clinic."

  Cassie looked at her, panic in her eyes. "I don't have to go to Laura's today, do I?"

  "Of course not. I'll stay home with you."

  Cassie burrowed into her pillow. "That's good, Mommy." I want you to be with me when I don't feel good."

  Becca hurried down to the phone and called the clinic. After talking with Stella, she walked slowly back up the stairs, mentally rearranging her calls for the next day. According to Laura, Jenny and Todd had been fine within twenty-four hours." If Cassie was lucky, she'd be feeling better by tomorrow.

  "We're all set, honey," she said as she walked into the room. "I don't have to go to work today," she began, but she stopped when she saw that Cassie had fallen back to sleep. Drawing the sheet up to cover the small form in the bed, she hurried out of the room. She made herself coffee, then brought the coffee and newspaper up to Cassie's room, along with some work she'd brought home from the clinic. Settling into the chair next to Cassie's bed, she read the paper as she waited for her daughter to wake up.

  Several hours later, as she was reading Cassie a story, Becca heard a knock on her door. Leaning over, she kissed Cassie on the top of her head and handed her the book.

  "There's someone at the door, honey. It's probably Laura." I called her to tell her you weren't coming today."

  "Can I come downstairs and see her?" Cassie asked.

  Becca pressed her cheek against Cassie's head, then smiled at her. "You stay in bed, honey. I'll be right back, and you'll see Laura soon enough."

  As she hurried down the stairs, Becca felt her smile lingering. She should have known Laura would turn up after she'd told her that Cassie was sick Laura was that kind of friend.

  Pulling the door open, Becca began to say, "Hi, Laura." Thanks…"

  Her voice trailed off when she saw Grady standing on her porch. Her first, automatic reaction was pleasure at the sight of him. Pushing that away, trying to hide it, she said, "Grady! What are you doing here?"

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I called the clinic because we needed to have you come out to the ranch, and they told me you weren't in today because your daughter was sick. I had to come into town anyway, so I thought I'd stop by and see if there was anything you needed."

  A treacherous pleasure seeped into her, overriding the caution she had imposed on herself after their last encounter. "Thank you, Grady. That was very thoughtful of you."

  A dark red flush stained his cheeks. "It's no big deal, Becca. I just thought you might need something. One of my friends on the rodeo circuit had a wife and kid, and he told me more than once about how his wife complained when the kid was sick. He wasn't home, so she couldn't leave the house if she needed something."

  This time she had to ask him into the house. Bracing herself, Becca stepped aside. "Come in, Grady."

  But he shook his head. "You don't need company today, Becca. I just stopped by to see if there was anything I could pick up for you."

  She couldn't help murmuring a silent prayer of thanks. Today, of all days, she didn't want Grady to see Cassie. If Cassie heard someone in the house, she'd come downstairs, sick or not. And all it would take was one look at Cassie for Grady to see the truth. Cassie was the mirror image of her father.

  "She has been asking for her favorite soda," Becca finally said. "If you're going to the grocery store, I'd appreciate if you'd pick some up."

  "No problem. What kind is it?"

  Becca smiled. "You've probably never heard of it. It's called Lemon Fizz."

  Grady gave her a sharp look. "Really? Lemon Fizz is my favorite soda, too."

  Becca felt as if she'd been doused with cold water." Finally she said, weakly, "What a coincidence. At least you'll know what to look for."

  "Yeah." He walked down the porch steps, and once again Becca noticed how he seemed to lean his weight on the handrail, the careful way he moved down the steps. "I'll be back in a little while, Becca," he said over his shoulder, and she noticed that he wasn't smiling any longer. She watched his truck pull out of her driveway, and didn't go back into the house until he was no longer in sight.

  This whole charade was becoming more and more complicated, she thought wearily. She was going to have to force herself to spend more time with Grady. Once she knew more about the man he had become, she would be able to judge how to tell him about Cassie.

  And it looked like the man he had become was far different from the boy she had known. The Grady she'd known would never have thought to stop to ask her if she needed anything. She closed the door, but leaned against it for a long time, thinking about Grady.

  * * *

  Grady swerved his truck into the grocery-store parking lot and swore to himself for the hundredth time since leaving Becca. What in the hell had possessed him to stop by her house this morning? He'd told himself he was just being neighborly. That's what you were supposed to do when you lived in a small town. He'd told himself that he would do the same for anyone else, but the truth laughed at him.

  He'd done it because he wanted to see Becca. It had been two days since the incident at her clinic. Two lousy days, and he was so desperate to see her that he stopped by her house with a flimsy excuse that anyone with half a brain could see through.

  What was the matter with him? He didn't want to get involved with Becca again. He'd told himself that over and over, and he'd told Becca the same thing. And he'd meant it. She had betrayed him and broke his heart, and he wanted to stay as far away from her as possible.

  But that's not what his body was telling him. His body was saying that it wanted to be as close to Becca as a man could get to a woman. His body remembered how she'd felt, how she'd tasted, how she'd reacted to him. And his body didn't give one good damn about the way she'd cut him loose all those years ago.

  Climbing out of the truck, he winced as his bad leg hit the pavement, then swore and slammed the door shut." That was another thing." He didn't want anything to do with a woman who pitied him. Becca had noticed his limp the other night. If he told her what happened, she'd feel sorry for him. He knew Becca. She wouldn't be able to help herself. She could feel sorry for a mean, mangy, snake-in-the-grass range bull if she thought he'd gotten a raw deal.

  He didn't allow himself to limp as he walked into the grocery store and grabbed a carton of Lemon Fizz. He noticed the curious stares as he waited to pay for the soda, but he didn't look around. He wasn't in the mood for social pleasantries.

  Then why had he stopped at Becca's? Scowling, he paid the cashier and stomped out of the store with t
he soda. He knew why he'd stopped at Becca's, and he didn't like the answer one bit.

  The bottles of soda clanked in their carton as he drove slowly back to Becca's, and he wondered about the child who would drink the soda. Becca's daughter. If things had worked out differently, she might be his daughter, too.

  The thought should throw terror into his wandering soul. Instead, he felt a fleeting sense of loss, as if something precious had slipped through his grasp, never to return.

  He turned into Becca's driveway, disgusted with himself. My God, what was the matter with him? He must be getting old. That was the only thing that could explain his sudden weakness and sentimentality.

  Becca must have heard him drive up, because she opened the door before he had a chance to knock, she gave him a tight smile when she saw the carton of soda in his hand. "You found it. Thank you, Grady. Cassie will be so happy."

  "Glad I could help," he muttered. He wanted to dash away, but instead he asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

  Becca shook her head. "No, thanks. We're going to the doctor this afternoon, but I'm sure it's just a virus. I'm hoping that she'll be fine tomorrow." She studied him for a moment.

  "Why were you calling the clinic this morning? Is something wrong out at the ranch?"

  "Nothing that can't wait. I was looking at the books and I noticed that some of the horses are due for vaccines. We'll set it up when your daughter is feeling better."

  She nodded. "I should be back at work tomorrow or the next day. Tell Stella to put you on the schedule."

  "She already did." He stood on her porch and cursed himself for the inane conversation they were having, but he didn't want to leave.

  Finally Becca shifted from one foot to the other. "I'd ask you to come in, but I don't want you to get sick."

  "That's all right. I have to get back to the ranch." He paused before he turned around. "Are you sure there's nothing else you need?"

  "Positive." The tension in her face seemed to dissipate as her mouth curved up. "Thanks again for stopping, Grady. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

  "It wasn't a big deal," he muttered. "I'd do the same for anyone."

  This time she gave him a full smile. "I have a feeling that you would, Grady. Even though it might surprise you." she opened the door and stepped inside her house. "I'll see you in a day or two."

  She closed the door gently behind her, and he stared at it for a moment before turning to leave. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He'd stopped by her house because he had the hots for her. That was all there was to it. It didn't mean more than that.

  As he drove away, he said aloud, "You're reading this wrong, Becca. There's no complicated reason why I stopped at your house. The reason is about as basic and fundamental as you can get."

  It didn't mean more than that. It couldn't. He wouldn't let it.

  * * *

  Four days later Becca turned down the driveway toward Flying W ranch. Cassie had been sick the next day, too, and after missing two days of work, she had a lot of catching up to do. This was the earliest Stella could get the ranch into her schedule.

  Becca felt her palms sweat as she got closer to the barns and the house. Would Grady be around? Would she see him? How would he react?

  She had no idea, but she vowed to be as professional as possible. She couldn't allow herself to think about the passion they'd shared in her clinic, or about Grady's thoughtful, unexpected, visit to the house when Cassie was sick. She was here today to vaccinate his horses. Period.

  Parking next to the barn, she pulled three boxes of vaccines out of the cooler and grabbed a handful of syringes. Then she went in search of Tucker.

  "Grady left all the horses that needed vaccines in the barn today," the foreman told her as he led her into the dim, cool barn. "There they are."

  Becca flipped her chart to a checklist of the ranch's horses. "Tell me exactly which horses need which vaccines, and I'll mark them off."

  Tucker reached into the rear pocket of his jeans and pulled out a grubby list. "This here's what Grady gave me." He handed it to her.

  Becca looked at the list, her chest tightening at the sight of Grady's familiar, slanting handwriting. She hadn't seen it for years. Not since the last letter she'd gotten from him, the one that said he wasn't coming home again for four more months. That was the letter that had triggered her foolish, ill-fated phone call.

  Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she nodded at Tucker. "This looks fine. I'll take it from here."

  "They're all yours, Doc," Tucker said cheerfully as he headed out of the barn.

  Becca studied the list, forcing herself to concentrate on the horses and the vaccines they needed, forcing herself to put Grady out of her mind. All the horses needed rabies and Potomac Fever vaccines, and a few needed a flu rhino booster. Grabbing two syringes and two vials of vaccine for the first horse on the list, she slipped into his stall and began to murmur nonsense words to him in a low voice.

  The horse pricked up his ears and turned around to find the source of the noise. Rubbing his ears, Becca slipped her hand down his neck, slapped him lightly twice then injected the first vaccine. The animal snorted and tossed his head, but calmed down when Becca continued to talk to him. She administered the second vaccine, spent a few more moments talking to the horse, then slipped out of the stall to repeat the process on the next horse.

  "That was pretty smooth."

  Grady's voice came out of the shadows to the left of the stall, and Becca spun around to face him. "I didn't know you were here."

  "Tucker told me you'd started on the horses. Why didn't you ask for someone to help you?"

  "I wasn't sure anyone was around, and it wasn't a big deal. I've vaccinated plenty of horses by myself."

  Grady frowned. "What if one of them decided they didn't like the needle? You should have someone holding them for you."

  "That's not always an option," she explained as she filled the next syringe. "I'm used to doing it by myself."

  "I'll hold them for you."

  She couldn't tell him she'd prefer to work alone, that she dreaded being in the close confines of the stalls with him. After all, they were his horses. Nodding abruptly, she tapped the bubbles of air out of the syringe, then stepped into the next stall.

  Grady moved to the other side of the horse, holding his halter and rubbing his nose. When she slapped the animal's neck and injected the vaccine, the horse barely flinched.

  "Thank you," she said, almost grudgingly, as they closed the stall door behind them. "That was a big help."

  "I aim to please, Becca."

  Grady's words were low and intimate in the dimly lit, isolated barn. His bright blue eyes glowed with awareness, and the sounds of activity outside the barn faded away. Becca knew the ranch was bustling with activity, full of men and women with jobs to do, but suddenly it seemed as if she and Grady were the only people within miles. Memories of the last time they were alone together washed over her with a rush of desire.

  It couldn't happen again. Breaking eye contact with Grady, she bent over her bag and dropped the used syringes and vials into a container. Grabbing what she would need for the next horse, she straightened as she filled the syringes. Without meeting Grady's eyes, she moved to the next stall.

  Neither of them said much as she moved down the row of stalls, methodically vaccinating the ranch's horses. But each time they stepped into a stall, Becca felt his presence more acutely. When their arms brushed, Grady left a trail of fire behind. Every time he crooned to one of the horses, the soft, musical words fluttered in her chest, making it tighter. When she had to lean close to him, his masculine scent surrounded her, sharpening her longing.

  "You don't have to help me with the rest of them," she finally said, a ring of desperation in her voice. "I really am used to doing this myself."

  "It's not a problem, Becca. It's going faster this way, isn't it?"

  She wanted to scream no. It was taking forever to finish.
But he was right. Having his help made the job more efficient.

  "You must have a lot of other things to do," she said, barely managing not to grit her teeth.

  "I do," he admitted. "But they can all wait. I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other night at your clinic."

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  «^»

  "What is there to talk about?" she asked, stiffening her shoulders. "We're both adults, and we got carried away. End of story."

  "You think so, Becca?" His voice was very soft. When he reached out a finger and twirled one of her curls around it, her toes curled at his touch. "I don't think we've finished this story yet."

  She batted his hand away. "Call it a weak moment, Grady. I was scared. It was nothing more than adrenaline and nerves."

  His mouth curled into a smile. "You're good, Becca. Very good. Any other woman, I might have believed her. But I know you too well."

  "You don't know me from diddly," she retorted, reaching for another vaccine. "The girl you know ceased to exist nine years ago."

  The smile disappeared from his face. "I know." He let his eyes linger on her face for another moment, and she thought she saw pain, hidden deep in their blue depths. "But that wasn't the part of the other night I wanted to talk about."

  She jerked her head up to glare at him. "Then why did you let me think it was?"

  "I didn't let you think anything. You jumped to that conclusion all by yourself." A devil glittered in his eyes. "But I'm happy to know that it was memorable for you."

  "About as memorable as a rash," she muttered.

  "I was as close to you as a rash," he agreed, his eyes twinkling.

  "I'm happy you're enjoying this conversation," she snapped. "But I do have work to do here. What exactly did you want to talk about?"

  "The person who was at your back door." All traces of playfulness disappeared. His eyes turned cold and hard as they stared back at her, and Becca shivered. He would be a formidable opponent.

  "I have no idea who that was," she said, turning away to reach for another syringe. She didn't want Grady to know how much it still bothered her. "And there's been no sign of a prowler around the clinic since then. It was probably kids, like Sheriff McAllister said."

 

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