The Texan's Little Secret

by Barbara White Daille

  “No. I mean, maybe she will. But it’s better I leave, anyhow. I...really, I went to dinner tonight for the chance to be alone with you. So I could tell you goodbye. I think it’s best we just end things right now, instead of drawing them out.”

  Rosie screeched, no doubt in complete agreement.

  And without another word, Carly fled.

  Outside, she stumbled down the porch steps and made her way blindly across the yard. There was no full moon to guide her, as there had been the couple of nights she had walked home to the ranch house from Luke’s. Now, in the darkness broken only by starlight, all she could see were the blurry outlines of the trees and the lighter patch of the path between them.

  All she could hear was Luke’s voice, calling Rosie “Daddy’s little cowgirl.”

  All she could think of was the day he had come to the Roughneck, when he’d walked away after calling her that, too.

  Since that day, she had heard the phrase over and over again. The words had brought her nothing but heartache. And now...

  Just moments ago she had heard him say those very words to his daughter.

  And she realized how wrong she’d been for all these years. How easily she had thrown away her chance at happiness with him.

  She would have found out the truth then, if only she hadn’t been so ready to suspect him of other motives. So unable to believe someone could truly care about her.

  So quick to take offense at what he’d called her—Daddy’s little cowgirl—when he had never used the words as an insult at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “And how’s our little girl today?” Tammy asked. Rosie sat in her high chair in the kitchen. Tammy ruffled her curls. “Feeling all better?”

  “Seems to be,” Luke said.

  “How was last night?”

  “Okay. She was up and down until about two.”

  “And how was the night with Carly?”

  “Fine. She left right after you did.”

  Hell, she had run from the house as if every one of Rosie’s stuffed animals had come to life and given chase.

  And she’d left him damned unsatisfied.

  When all was said and done, though, this morning he felt grateful. Her quick departure had kept him from becoming the world’s biggest fool.

  “I can keep Rosie overnight sometime, if you’d like.”

  He snapped his head up to look at his mother. She was giving him that wide-eyed innocent look he recognized from his growing-up days. But usually he’d been the one flashing it at her.

  He spooned up another mouthful of applesauce and fed it to Rosie. Normally, she fed herself—or attempted to—but as overtired as she was today, she’d probably never hit her mouth. “What are you getting at, Mom?”

  She slid onto a chair at the table and pushed aside one of Rosie’s storybooks. “Just that I know having Rosie around might cramp your style a bit.”

  At that, he laughed so heartily, Rosie looked at him in surprise, then joined in. “I don’t have a style to be cramped. What you see is what you get. And what I see is what I’ve got, and I’m lucky to have her.” He aimed another spoonful at his daughter’s mouth. “Rosie comes first.”

  That’s the way it was...no matter how much he might be attracted to Carly.

  And, though he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was way beyond attracted. Not that he planned to do anything about it now.

  “I told you the other day, she needs a mama.”

  “Mom. No more. If you’re trying to lead up to nominating Carly Baron for the job, you can forget it.”

  “Why? Obviously you’re interested in her, or you wouldn’t have taken her out.”

  “That won’t be an issue in the future.”

  Her mouth opened and closed again. She might encourage and cajole and even give him a push once in a while, but she wouldn’t outright tell him what to do. Still, he saw the curiosity in her eyes. Best to nip it in the bud right now, along with any other thoughts she might have of him getting together with Carly.

  “You’re right. I need a wife and a mom for Rosie. But Carly doesn’t want kids.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From the lady herself.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Why? Not everybody’s cut out to be a great mom, like you.”

  She smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Why don’t you try some with Carly?”

  He rolled his eyes. After wiping Rosie’s mouth and hands, he took the applesauce bowl to the sink to rinse it. “Time for me to head over to the barn. We’ve got that mare ready to foal any day now, and I want to keep an eye on her.”

  A minute later, he left the house, shaking his head over their entire conversation.

  Parenting advice from Brock Baron and now relationship advice from his mom. Since when had his life gotten turned so upside-down?

  Since Carly Baron had walked back into it.

  He would just have to let her walk right back out again.

  He traveled the well-worn path to the barn, his thoughts pushing him to a furious pace.

  Tammy was right. Rosie needed a mama, and that was a role Carly could never fill.

  She had come right out and told him she didn’t want a family. With that statement, she had ended any chance they would ever have for a relationship.

  And still, as he strode into the barn and tried to focus on the business of the day ahead of him, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from straying to her.

  He should have realized her feelings about having kids long before now. Maybe he would have, if part of his anatomy hadn’t taken over his good sense. He knew her history, had heard plenty about how she felt growing up in a large family, recalled the many times she’d told him about how she hated feeling lost in the crowd.

  She didn’t want kids. Or a relationship.

  Yet there was no denying she had been as hot for him last night as he was for her.

  Didn’t take long for her to cool.

  Focus.

  He made sure the pile of tack he’d seen on the workbench before he’d left last night had been cleaned, sorted and rehung. He stopped to inspect a horse the vet had been treating for an infected leg wound. Done with that he went to the far stall to check on the pregnant mare.

  “Luke!”

  It was Carly. He stepped out of the stall.

  She stood in the wide doorway, the sunshine streaming in from behind, making her blond hair glow, outlining every curve of her body. The take-charge part of his anatomy jumped to attention.

  Damn. When would he cool down, too?

  Then she called his name again. He frowned.

  Her voice sounded odd—high, tight, as if she’d lost control of her breathing.

  Carly looked down the length of the barn and took a long, steadying breath.

  When she had finished talking to Savannah and Travis, her first thought had been to find Luke, and the first place she checked was the barn.

  She shouldn’t have come here. She knew it.

  Yet she couldn’t stay away.

  “Luke!” She almost tripped over her own feet in her eagerness to reach him.

  He put both his hands on her arms, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak for the emotions running through her. She heaved a deep breath and let it out again. “Nothing’s wrong. Travis found Genevieve Caron.”

  His eyes widened in astonishment.

  “She’s Genevieve Lewis now. She lives in Lubbock. I talked to her on the phone.”

  “She remembered you?”

  “She did. We didn’t get into much detail and she doesn’t know where my mom is now. But I’m going to go see her tomorrow night.” Her v
oice broke, and she lowered it to a shaky whisper. “It sounded as if she might have more current info that could get us closer to finding my mom.”

  He gave her a quick bear hug that warmed her from head to toe. Then he stood back, smiling down at her. “Carly, that’s great news.”

  “It is.” Her pulse raced. She’d walked out on him last night, and still he was happy for her. His support thrilled her. And so did he.

  When she had left the Peach Pit and headed home, she told herself she wanted to see Luke only because she had no one else to share her news with.

  That was a lie. But she couldn’t worry about it right now.

  Before she could second-guess the action, she threw herself into his arms. This hug made her even warmer. But then, it wasn’t nearly as quick as the first one.

  Luke’s arms went around her again, holding her close. Raising herself on tiptoe, she slid her body another inch or two up the length of his. She tilted her head back to look at him and reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, not giving a darn when she knocked his Stetson to the ground.

  He didn’t seem to mind.

  She tugged, urging his head downward.

  That didn’t appear to bother him, either.

  He took her mouth with his, gently at first, then with increasing pressure, his lips tasting, tongue exploring, teeth nibbling at her lower lip.

  She touched her tongue to his. He groaned and shifted his feet, moving to brace her against the adjacent stall door. She was pinned in place by his hips, but her hands were free to roam. She ran her fingertips across his shoulders and down his chest, slipped her arms around him and pulled him close, the way he had held her.

  There was no escaping the effect she had on his body. No denying her thrill at the knowledge.

  She lifted her chin to look up at him. He bent and put his mouth to her throat. Even as his kiss tickled her sensitive skin, it sent shivers of pleasure all through her.

  She tilted her head—and froze. “Um...Luke.”

  “What?” He trailed his lips across her throat, making her shiver again.

  “Luke, stop.” She pushed against his muscled arms, tried and failed to hold back a giggle. “We’ve got an audience.”

  His head whipped up, almost catching her chin. He turned to look in the direction she was staring. Though he was still taking deep, unsteady breaths and seemed annoyed as heck at the interruption, even he couldn’t help but laugh.

  Framed in the opening of the next stall, Daredevil stood watching them.

  * * *

  THE SUMMONS FROM Brock late in the morning didn’t surprise Luke. He’d expected the boss would want to go over the equipment order he had turned in yesterday.

  Brock’s gesture to close the door of the den seemed stiff and abrupt. His face looked lined with strain. That trip to the Peach Pit the other day without his wheelchair must have taken a toll.

  Carly had been right about that.

  Not something Brock would want to hear.

  “I brought a copy of the equipment list—”

  “Forget the list.”

  Luke fought to keep his brows from rising at the snapped response.

  Brock slapped his hands on the arms of the wheelchair. “This is not about the damned list. This is about what the hell went on in my barn this morning.”

  Crap.

  Daredevil hadn’t been the only one taking in the show.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing messing around with my daughter?”

  “You were there?”

  “Damn right I was there. Standing outside the barn door. You’re lucky I didn’t call you out right then.” Brock glared. He’d had all day to get himself worked up into this rage. The fallout wasn’t going to be pretty. “And what does it matter whether or not I was there to witness your shenanigans? Do you think if I hadn’t seen you with my own eyes, if I’d gotten my knowledge secondhand, you could bluff your way out of trouble with a pack of lies?”

  “No, I don’t think that. I’ve never lied to you before and wouldn’t start now.”

  Brock made a derisive sound. “That remains to be seen. But that’s not my point. What I want to know is, what the hell were you doing with your hands all over my little girl?”

  Luke stood his ground, arms at his sides, his Stetson in one hand. He would tell the truth about this, too. The boss wasn’t going to like his reply. “She’s not a little girl anymore, Brock. And her hands were as busy as mine.”

  A blue vein ticked in the man’s forehead. His face turned red. His eyes glittered. “You’re done,” he said between clenched teeth. He slammed his hand on the desktop. “You’ve got one week to clear out of here.”

  Luke stared back at him. His fingers tightened on the Stetson’s brim. “You haven’t got just cause to fire me for this. Carly and I are both adults. But she’s your daughter, and you’ve got to do as you see fit.” He shrugged. “Hell. I love Rosie as much as you love Carly. And I admit, in your shoes, I’d probably do the same.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Feeling ridiculously apprehensive, Carly knocked on Luke’s front door. A moment later, from inside, she heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. The small diamond-shaped pane of glass in the door showed her a flash of blond hair and pink fabric. Her shoulders sagged. She had hoped Luke would be there.

  By the time Tammy swung the door open, Carly had a smile plastered on her face. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Carly. Come on in.” Tammy closed the door behind them. “But I’m afraid Luke’s not home yet.”

  “I came to ask how Rosie was feeling.”

  “See for yourself.” Tammy gestured to the other side of the room.

  Rosie lay sprawled on the floor with her head pillowed on her favorite stuffed elephant, fast asleep.

  “She’s doing fine now,” Tammy told her. “But the poor kid’s worn out. She was up most of last night.” She took a seat on the couch. On the coffee table in front of her sat a coffee mug and a magazine, its cover and first few pages curled under. “Please, have a seat.”

  Carly sat on the edge of a large brown chair that matched the couch.

  “You haven’t been seeing our girl at her best, unfortunately,” Tammy continued. “Not that she’s always a perfect angel, but this has been a particularly bad week. Teething takes a lot out of kids.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes, especially if they run a fever with it. You’ll find that out for yourself one day, I’m sure.”

  Carly’s fingers tightened on the shopping bag she was carrying. “I...I was hoping Rosie would feel better by now.” She set the bag on the broad, flat arm of the upholstered chair. “I brought something for her. It’s a toy I used to play with when I was a kid.”

  “Well, that’s awfully nice of you.”

  She pulled the small plastic terrier puppy from the sack. “Buster was always one of my favorites. I found him in the attic with some of my old things and gave him a good scrub.” She smiled. “He barks when you squeeze his stomach.”

  Tammy smiled back at her. “Rosie will love that. You can give it to her yourself, if she wakes up while you’re still here.” She sat back against the couch cushion. “Luke called earlier to say he had a lot of work he wanted to clear up. I’m not sure what time he’ll be home, but I shouldn’t think he’ll be much longer.”

  “I don’t need to stay. I’ll just leave Buster here for Rosie.”

  “Actually...” Tammy stared at her.

  She tensed, not sure what was behind the woman’s suddenly thoughtful expression.

  “I have a couple of errands I need to run. I didn’t mention them to Luke. He sounded so distracted when he called. But it would be a big help if I could take care of them tonight. I hate to ask you, but do you think you could stay till
he gets here?”

  “Stay?” Carly tightened her grip on the puppy, who gave his well-remembered little squeaky bark. “With Rosie, you mean?”

  Tammy nodded. “I would never leave her with someone she doesn’t know, but you’re not a stranger to her, are you?”

  Yes, I am. She’s only seen me a few times.

  But how could she reject a request for such a simple favor? And Tammy must know she had planned to stay a little while, or why else would she have come in and taken a seat?

  She found herself nodding and saying, “Sure. I’m happy to wait with Rosie.”

  “Wonderful.” Tammy stood. “Let me put her to bed. Come on, I’ll show you where her crib is.” Gently, she lifted the sleeping little girl into her arms and carried her from the room.

  Carly followed, already sure she knew which bedroom Rosie would occupy—the smaller of the two, the one on the left of the hallway, on the same wall as the bathroom. The previous ranch manager, a bachelor, had used that room as his den.

  With a handful of wall decals, Luke or Tammy or both had turned the space into a cartoon jungle. A monkey swung from a banana tree on one wall, and a herd of long-necked giraffes stalked across another. Even the sheets of the crib were decorated with a row of marching elephants, each with his trunk curled around the stubby tail of the one before him.

  Carly laughed softly. “No wonder Rosie likes her stuffed animals so much.”

  “Yes,” Tammy said, setting the little girl onto the crib mattress and tucking a soft-looking pink rabbit against her. “Luke can’t wait till she graduates to horses. He wanted to decorate with them right away, but I talked him out of it.”

  “I love horses, too,” Carly told her, “but these animals are perfect for a baby.”

  “That’s just what I told him.”

  They both smiled. Tammy flicked on a small nightlight on a white wicker chest.

  Carly followed her back to the living room.

  “She’s already been fed and changed. Her teething ring is on the door of the refrigerator, if you need it. Thanks so much for staying with her.”

  And before Carly could blink, Tammy had taken her mug from the coffee table and left the room again. Only moments later, she heard the sound of running water, then the back door closing.