The Texan's Little Secret

by Barbara White Daille

  Or maybe peaches.

  There was no way anyone could not love his baby girl.

  Which was why it beat the hell out of him when, every time he mentioned her name, Carly changed the subject.

  “We’re not taking that today, either, are we, Rosie? Let’s see her talk about something else when you’re right there in front of her face.”

  And Rosie would be right in front of Carly. When he’d stopped in yesterday, Gina had told him she planned to take off the last couple of hours of her shift today. Carly would be working solo.

  Deliberately, he had waited until the last few minutes before closing time to arrive at the store. Other than her truck, his was the only vehicle in the parking area.

  He and Rosie found the main room empty. Carly must have stepped into the workroom or the kitchen. He took Rosie on a tour of the store, showing her the jars of peach preserves, the plastic-wrapped pecan candies and the glass-fronted display case filled with pastries and pies.

  When she spotted the pies, she squealed and threw her hands above her head. “Whoa, girl.” He managed to stop her just before she could slap her little fingerprints all over the spotless glass.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Carly called from the kitchen. A moment later, she came into the room carrying a stack of pastry boxes. “Sorry, I didn’t hear—” Frowning, she cut herself off and stared at him. “Luke.”

  Her reaction confirmed three things for him. She hadn’t heard the door. She hadn’t heard his voice clearly enough to recognize it. And she didn’t like seeing Rosie in his arms.

  She lifted the boxes to a high shelf, then took a stack of empty metal trays from beneath the counter. “I’m just wrapping things up for the night.”

  “Then you can wrap up one of these peach pies for me.”

  “Fine.” She carried the trays into the kitchen.

  Through the open doorway, he could see her set them on top of a tall floor cabinet. “Looks like the shoulder’s doing pretty well,” he called.

  “Not well enough to handle Twister.” She returned to the front of the store and took down a pastry box.

  Her refusal to look his way riled him. He’d had enough of her acting as if he were the invisible man. And of her ignoring his daughter. “All right, then,” he persisted, “if you’re not ready for the back of a bull again, why don’t we just take a couple of horses and go for a ride. Tomorrow. When you’re off work. Rosie will be with my mom for a while.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Meanwhile, when you’re done tonight, how about we sit and have a chat with Rosie?”

  For a moment, her hands stilled halfway toward the peach pie on the top shelf. “I don’t have that much time. I need to get back to the house.”

  Rosie looked on, fascinated, as Carly slid the pie from the display case. He smiled, feeling his jaw clench. She wouldn’t have noticed his daughter’s interest. She didn’t bother to look up.

  “This would be Rosie,” he said. “I don’t believe the two of you have met.”

  Slowly, Carly raised her head. Her eyes widened, and her face turned as white as the paper liners on the display case shelf.

  Damn. What was it with her?

  All right, any baby could be intimidating when you weren’t used to being around kids. But there was something more to Carly’s uneasiness than just being near his daughter. Her reaction tonight only confirmed his growing suspicions. Whatever was bothering her, it had something to do with kids....

  Or was it his kid, specifically?

  Maybe Carly’s behavior had nothing to do with feeling intimated and uneasy at being around Rosie. Maybe she felt uncomfortable at the reminder he’d had a child with someone other than her.

  The idea might make him rethink Carly’s actions.

  But it couldn’t do anything to change their history.

  “Well. And what do we have here?”

  Luke didn’t need to look to know who had spoken from behind him. He turned, anyway. Brock Baron stood leaning against the doorway, a pair of crutches braced beneath his arms.

  “Daddy?” Carly said, her voice strained. “How did you get here?”

  A moment ago, Luke had blamed the shock in her eyes and her suddenly pale face on his insistence that she look at Rosie. But obviously, he’d been wrong.

  Her concern had come from seeing Brock.

  “I drove him here,” Anna said, appearing in the doorway behind the boss.

  “You did?” Carly asked.

  She sounded surprised. Maybe she thought she was the only good nursemaid around.

  Brock moved forward and took a seat at a small table Savannah had set near the front window. It couldn’t have been more than a couple yards from the parking area to that chair. But lines of fatigue in the man’s face showed how much the short walk had cost him.

  Still, when he saw Rosie, he managed a smile.

  Carly hurried out from behind the counter. “What are you doing up on your feet? Do you want to set back all the progress you’ve made? And maybe add to the damage?”

  “I tried to tell him,” Anna said, “but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “I know what I can and can’t do,” Brock said.

  “And we’ll see what the doctor has to say about that.” Carly stood with her hands on her hips, glaring down at him.

  The sparks in her eyes sent Luke’s blood rushing down around his own hips. But her outright defiance of her daddy left his head spinning—and not in a good way. Nobody talked to Brock Baron like that and walked off without getting a strip torn from his or her hide.

  Nobody witnessing it fared too well, either.

  Anna could fend for herself. But he needed to get Rosie out of here. It was bad enough he slipped and used some questionable language around her once in a while. He didn’t need her hearing worse from his irate boss.

  He lifted the boxed pie from the counter. “Don’t forget our ride tomorrow,” he told Carly. “I’ll see you at the barn once you close up the store. Anna. Brock.” He nodded at them both.

  After a quick stop while Brock chucked Rosie under the chin and Anna gave her curls a kiss, Luke took his little girl out of firing range.

  * * *

  BROCK STRIPPED OFF his shirt and watched his wife combing her hair at the dresser. When her eyes met his in the mirror, he said, “You know, you’re one fine-looking woman.”

  “That’s why you married me, isn’t it?”

  He smiled at the familiar joke and gave his usual response. “Looks and brains.”

  “You couldn’t pass up that combination, could you?” She smiled back at him, then set the comb down and turned to face him. “What’s this I hear about you overdoing things today?”

  He exhaled sharply. “That darned girl. She needs to keep her opinions to herself.”

  “Who? Carly? Not likely, when she’s as outspoken as you are. But Carly didn’t tell me what you’ve been up to. Anna did.”

  “And that woman had better remember who provides her with room and board and a steady income—or she’ll find herself out of a job.”

  “You’d never fire Anna, and you know it.” Julieta shook her head. “We all had better hope the doctor releases you to go back to your job soon. You’re turning into a cranky old man.”

  “Old? Come over here, and we’ll see about that.”

  She laughed. “Don’t try to change the subject. I also heard about what Carly said to you. And she has a valid point. You don’t want to cause any permanent damage by doing more than you should too soon.”

  He waved the comment away. “Did Anna tell you we found Luke sniffing around at the Peach Pit?”

  “So?”

  “While Carly was working. They’re supposed to go for a ride tomorrow. A horseback ride, she said.”
<
br />   “Well, it’s a step toward what you wanted, isn’t it? Getting them together, so Luke can take her in hand and give her some advice on bull riding?”

  “I don’t want her on the back of a bull at all. But yes, if she’s going to be stubborn enough to go through with her idea, I want Luke giving her some guidance. I didn’t say anything about putting his hands on her.”

  She laughed, loud and long, until she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Brock, if you could have seen your face just now.” She came over to take a seat on the bed, close to where he sat in his wheelchair. She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got nothing to worry about there. Carly’s a grown woman.”

  “Without much sense.”

  “She has plenty of good sense. You just don’t want to see her as anything but your little girl. And what’s the problem, anyhow? You trust Luke.”

  “I do.”

  “Well, then?”

  “We’ll wait and see.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, Brock.”

  “Don’t ‘oh, Brock,’ me.” He glared. “It doesn’t matter how well you think you know a man. You can never tell what he’ll do when he’s given enough rope to hang himself.”

  * * *

  A LONG RIDE in the northern acres left them at the supply cabin closest to the house, where they stopped to rest their horses.

  While Luke checked the condition of the cabin, Carly climbed up to sit on the adjacent fence and enjoy watching the sun sink. Though they still had plenty of light left in the day, their ride home would have them headed east, away from the sunset.

  They hadn’t talked much at all since leaving the barn, but to her surprise, the quiet had been companionable.

  She had felt reluctant about showing up to meet Luke.

  At least she had good excuses to keep her from climbing onto the back of a bull again. She didn’t want to think about him giving her riding tips and loathed the idea of him watching her struggle to manage a live bull. But even her loss of control in a situation like that wouldn’t compare to how she felt at being with him.

  She drained her water bottle and set it on the fence rail beside her. Finished his inspection, Luke crossed the space between them and stopped a few feet away.

  She gripped the rail on either side of her. “This was a pleasure ride—or so I thought. And here you are working. Are you always so thorough when it comes to your job?”

  “I try to be. With the job and everything else.”

  A shiver ran down her spine at the suggestive words. But, darn him, he simply looked back at her steadily, without a sign of teasing in his expression.

  “You were that way with your job at the garage, too.”

  “I did try with that, too. No matter what anyone else thought.”

  “Why would anyone think something different?”

  “Folks come up with crazy notions.”

  “About you? Straight-arrow Luke? I don’t believe it. Notions like what?”

  “Like I wasn’t always such a straight arrow. They accused me of playing the advantages to get whatever I wanted.”

  She had once done that, too.

  “At least,” he continued, “that’s what some folks said. But those days are over. So is this one, almost.” He turned his head and squinted against the glare of the lowering sun. “We’d better head back soon, before we lose the light.”

  She nodded, accepting the change of subject. For now.

  He smiled. “Did you enjoy the ride?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “You sound as if you didn’t expect to.”

  “I didn’t.”

  One look at his face at the Peach Pit last night had told her he wouldn’t accept no for an answer about taking her out on horseback. Besides, he’d had her trapped. “I didn’t want to go on this ride at all. You knew that. But you also knew I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of arguing, with Daddy and Anna standing right there.”

  He rested one hip against the fence, toasted her with his water bottle and grinned. “Thanks for giving me credit for that much, at least. How did it go after I left?”

  “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

  “Sitting, technically.” He looked her over from head to toe. “You do that well. And you don’t do badly on the back of a horse.”

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, it is nothing compared to riding a bull. I gave you an easy out.”

  “Easy? You’d better not let Daredevil hear you say that.”

  He took a long swig from his bottle, throat muscles working hard. “You just had to choose the most cantankerous horse in the stable, didn’t you?”

  She smiled. He’d nearly had a conniption when she had led the stallion, already saddled, out of the barn.

  His mouth curved in a half smile. “Daredevil might be bullheaded—like some people I know—but he’s still horseflesh. And my offer to help with the bull riding tips still stands.”

  Dang. After her sessions with Twister, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she even wanted to ride a live bull again.

  And, after the way everything had ended between them, she couldn’t believe Luke Nobel still wanted to help her. Worse, she couldn’t believe what she still wanted from him—and it involved a heck of a lot more than tips on how to ride a bull.

  An offer like this one, from a champion rider... Turning him down would make her seem as wild and crazy as her family had always thought.

  On the other hand, accepting his offer, agreeing to get close to him, would prove her just plain crazy.

  He eyed her for a moment then snapped, “You’ve just dropped onto the back of a bull. What’s the most important thing you need to do?”

  “Now, that’s easy. Find your seat.”

  He shook his head. “Try again.”

  “Get your balance.”

  “Nope. What body part do you rely on most?”

  “Your dominant hand.”

  “And you want to ride bulls?” he scoffed. “Wrong on all counts.”

  “All right, then. This.” She braced her hands on either side of her, just inches below her belt. “Right here. It’s all in the hip action.”

  Smiling, he leaned forward, till their lips almost met. His eyes seemed to glow. “Well, now,” he breathed, “you are...absolutely...wrong.”

  “What?” She recoiled in astonishment and almost toppled off the fence.

  He grabbed her around the waist to brace her, then took her hands and rested them on her thighs. He pressed his hands flat atop hers, his warm palms covering her fingers. A prickly sensation ran through her, like sparks from an electrified fence.

  “Not the hips, Carly. A little lower. Here.”

  He rested his hands on her knees. Then he slid his palms upward again. He had hooked his strong thumbs against her inner thighs, exerting more pressure the higher his hands climbed. A bolt of heat slammed through her middle.

  When he’d reached the midpoint of her thighs, he stood still. “This is what’ll keep you hanging on tight. What you use to grip that bull.”

  With him standing so close and her body heat spiked so high, she wanted him to be teasing her, playing with her. She wanted him to have another meaning hidden beneath his words.

  But he stared at her without even the hint of a sparkle in his eyes.

  Dammit.

  She stared back silently at all that had so briefly been hers. The dark blond hair, the color of sand, that she’d always loved to run her fingers through. The sturdy jaw with its deceptively soft-looking stubble that had once buffed her teenage cheeks to a rosy glow. And the eyes...those honey-brown eyes... Like none she’d ever seen before.

  They were warm and caring and trusting. And, oh, how she wished she could tell him the truth.
But she didn’t dare. If he knew what she had been keeping from him, he would never trust her. He would never even come this close to her again.

  “Thanks for the tip of the day.” Her voice sounded too loud in the quiet, too shaky for her liking. “I think we’d better head home.”

  Now he would say something suggestive and mean it. Now he would make his move.

  And she would have to gather the emotional strength to push him away.

  Instead, he simply stepped back.

  She jumped down from the fence and started toward Daredevil on legs twice as shaky as her voice had been.

  * * *

  LUKE HAD NO IDEA what the hell happened.

  Once minute, Carly was walking away from him to mount Daredevil, and the next she was flying through the air.

  He ran toward her, too late to stop the memories of Jodi’s accident from battering his brain. Too late to save Carly from her fall.

  He saw her hit the ground, head and shoulder first. He saw her tumble and land spread-eagled flat on her back.

  He didn’t see her move.

  “Carly!”

  Daredevil pawed the dirt inches from her head.

  Luke grabbed the reins, looped them around the fence and made sure his own mount stood quietly at a distance.

  Heart in his throat, he dropped to his knees beside Carly.

  Her eyes didn’t open. And still she didn’t move.

  “Carly.”

  He took a deep breath and told himself she’d be all right. This wasn’t going to end like Jodi’s fall. She wouldn’t be paralyzed. She wasn’t going to die.

  Her breathing was even, her pulse steady.

  As he took another calming breath of his own, her eyelids fluttered. He reached for her hand.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her brow wrinkled in a frown. “What’s—?”

  She shifted her free arm, but he stilled her movement. “Just lie there a minute.”

  For once, she didn’t raise an argument, which worried him more than anything else.

  She worried him. Ever since he’d seen her on the ranch again, he had known something wasn’t right. Something was bothering her. Something she had no intention of telling him.