by Julia London
Finn had realized, as he drove aimlessly yesterday afternoon, that he was near Bill Gaines’ place. Bill Gaines had wanted Finn’s cutters as long as Finn had been in the business. Finn had not been surprised when Brodie told him Bill had bought the horses, and sure enough, Finn found Fannie, his best mare, just by driving around Bill’s spread.
He spotted her in the pasture, trotting around the fence perimeter. He pulled over and got out of the truck, walked up to the metal fence, and propped his arms against it, watching the old girl. He hadn’t been there fifteen minutes when a truck pulled up behind his. A man got out, adjusted his cowboy hat, and walked a little crookedly to the fence where Finn was standing.
“Can I help you, sir?” he asked in a neighborly way.
“Just admiring the horseflesh,” Finn said.
“Ah yes, we’ve got a fine stock, don’t we, now,” the man said, stepping up beside Finn at the fence. “Some of the finest in all of Texas.”
“The black one there—any chance she’s for sale?” Finn asked, pointing at Fannie.
The man squinted across the pasture and laughed. “Not her. She’s our best cutter. Quick as a hiccup and can turn on a biscuit without breaking the crust. Wouldn’t know it to look at her, would you? Cutters usually ain’t that tall. I bet she’s eighteen hands if she’s one.”
Seventeen, Finn thought. “She’s a good one, all right,” Finn said. “I trained her.”
The man snorted. “Well now, either you’ve been drinking whiskey from your boot or you’re mightily confused,” he said congenially, and propped his foot on the lowest rung of the fence. “She come from down around Austin. Used to be a fella down there who trained cutting horses, but he was killed in the war.” He glanced at Finn sidelong. “You don’t look dead to me, friend.”
Finn didn’t feel like explaining the whole thing to this guy and nodded, keeping his gaze on Fannie.
“It’s easy to get confused in this heat,” the man said. “Hotter’n the blazes of hell out here. Yeah, we got her and a couple of others, along with a guy named José who used to work with the man from Austin. Now he’s someone who can train a cutter for you. Knows horses just about better than anyone I ever run across.”
Finn’s heart leapt. He looked at the old cowboy. “Is he still around?”
“Oh sure. Stays up there at the old homestead in the bunkhouse. No one lives up there no more. The place is dilapidated. I’ll be honest, this guy’s a superstitious old Mexican, meaner than a junkyard dog. But he don’t like being away from the horses.”
Finn knew that. José had always slept in his bunkhouse, too. Sent almost every dime he earned back to Old Mexico. “Any chance I can talk to him?”
The man laughed. “You ain’t gonna try and steal him away now, are you?”
“Nah,” Finn said, and forced a smile.
“Come on around then,” the man said, and stuck out his hand. “John McBride. I run this section for a guy named Bill Gaines. And you are?”
“Lockhart,” Finn said, taking his hand. “Finn Lockhart.”
“Follow me on around, then, Finn,” John said, clearly unaware that he was talking to the man from down around Austin who used to train cutters.
Friday afternoon, Macy’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Well?” Laru asked, opening the door as Macy trudged up the walk to the house.
“Yes,” Macy said solemnly. “I am pregnant with Wyatt’s baby. Six weeks along.”
“Oh, Macy,” Laru said sympathetically.
“I mean, just days before I found out that Finn was alive, I conceived a baby with Wyatt! God help me, Laru, I don’t want to stay with Wyatt out of a sense of duty or guilt! But then again, it’s Wyatt’s baby. How can I take a baby from its father?”
Laru hugged her tightly. “Let’s go sit down,” she said, and led her into the living room.
“I don’t know,” Macy said once they were seated. “I keep thinking of the kids I worked with. They had parents in different places, siblings from different fathers or mothers. Their lives were a mess. Is that what I am thinking of doing to my baby?”
“You can’t compare your situation to those kids.”
“Why not?”
“For starters, we are talking about three extremely responsible adults here, not three deadbeats.”
“Okay,” Macy said, turning to face Laru. “But is it fair to take this child from a father who would love him or her? Its not like Wyatt and I fell out of love. I care very much for him. I love him. I can’t see how it is right to take his child from him.”
“You’re not taking the baby from its father.”
“Yes, I am. You know it wouldn’t be the same as it would be if we were there together, day in and day out,” Macy argued.
“No, but look, Macy—families are different now,” Laru said. “Sometimes, blood kin isn’t as important as surrounding a child with love. It takes a village to raise a child.”
Macy couldn’t help but smile. “That is the standard refrain in social work.”
“Maybe because it’s true. The thing you need to remember is that if you are unhappy, that child is going to know it, and it won’t be entirely happy, either.”
Macy considered that a moment.
“When are you telling Wyatt about this?” Laru asked.
“Today,” Macy said with a sigh.
“No time like the present.” Laru handed her the phone. Macy frowned but she took the phone and called Wyatt’s office.
“I’m sorry, Macy,” Linda Gail said when she asked for Wyatt. “He’s not in. He took Caroline Spalding to lunch, and then he’s driving down to San Marcos for the weekend. He’s playing in that big golf tournament with David Bernard. ”
“Oh right, right,” Macy said, remembering that now.
“And he’s got a closing down there on Monday, so I don’t expect to see him until late afternoon on Monday.”
Great, Macy thought. This wasn’t exactly the sort of news she could phone in. She needed to tell him in person. “Thanks, Linda Gail. I’ll catch up with him Monday.”
30
It was ten o’clock on a hot, muggy Sunday morning when Finn knocked on Laru’s door. He propped one arm against the jamb and leaned into it, expecting a fight. Yeah, he’d taken off for a couple of days, but he’d called in and let his mom chew on him. He knew Macy had tried to get hold of him, too, but he’d needed to take care of a few things.
It was good that he’d gone. He’d cooled off, had a better perspective.
Laru opened the door a moment later. Of all of Macy’s relatives, Laru was definitely his favorite. He loved her free spirit and live-and-let-live attitude. She stared at him for a moment, then threw her arms around his neck. “Finn Lockhart! What a sight for sore eyes!” she cried. “Lord, it’s good to see you.” She suddenly reared back, clutching his arms, and stared into his face, ignoring Milo, who raced out the front door and tried to put his paws around Finn’s neck.
“Wait a minute,” Laru said, and stepped back. “Did you call first?”
Finn knew what she was going to do and managed to get his boot in the door before she shut it. “Do I need to call?” he asked, holding the door open with one arm, scratching Milo’s ears with the other. “Come on, Laru. Let me in. I need to talk to her.”
Laru didn’t speak. He could almost hear the cogs in her head cranking as she mulled it over. “Come on now, Laru,” he said carefully, as if he were coaxing a dog out from under a porch. “We go way back, you and me.”
She grinned. “You look great, Finneus Lockhart. You really do.”
“You look pretty damn good yourself, Laru. You wouldn’t be changing the subject, would you?”
“Finn, stop! Macy’s got a lot on her mind and she’s a little miffed, to be honest.”
“I only want to ask her a couple of things. I’ll be nice, I promise. No trouble.” Milo barked. “Now see? That’s Milo’s vote for me. Come on, Laru—for old times’ sake.”
She sighed. Milo’s
tail was banging against a big potted plant. “Let me go tell her—”
“Let me.” He smiled. “Sit, boy,” he said to Milo, and the dog sat instantly.
“I’m as bad as that damn dog,” Laru said, and opened the door. “I never could resist you, you old ranch hand.” She threw her arms around his neck again, hugging him tightly.
“Thanks, Laru,” he said. “Which way to Macy?”
“In the guest room. You know where it is.”
He looked down at Milo and held his hand out, palm facing the dog. “Stay,” he said firmly, and the dog stayed.
Someone—Laru, she figured—lifted the comforter off her leg, and Macy, in the fog of sleep, reflexively kicked out.
“Ouch,” a male voice said.
Macy’s eyes flew open. She pushed herself up on her elbows and stuck her head out of the comforter, looking back at the head of the bed.
“You scared me,” Finn said. “A person’s head is usually on the pillow.”
Macy quickly scrambled to her knees. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Are you okay?”
Finn smiled. “I’m fine. Mom told you, right?”
“The only thing she would tell me is that you were alive, basically. What are you doing here? Where have you been?”
“I came here to talk to you.” He gestured to the bed. “Do you realize you are sleeping upside down?”
“Laru let you in?” Macy said, her heart still pounding. Maybe next time Laru would allow a marching band in to wake her up—it would be no less startling. She dragged the comforter around her—Laru liked to keep the house at sub-zero temperatures—and looked at Finn again. “Where have you been, Finn? I was so worried.”
Finn didn’t answer right away. Macy was sleeping in an old camisole and some boy-short panties that barely covered her butt. One of the spaghetti straps of her camisole had slid down her arm and the fabric over her breast was gaping. She realized what Finn was seeing and grabbed up the comforter.
“No,” he said quickly, throwing up a hand. “Leave it.”
Macy did not let go of the comforter, but neither did she lift it to cover her. “Could you maybe have called?”
“I could have. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I needed to do a couple of things on my own.” He gave her body a sultry smile. “Mmm-mm,” he said with a shake of his head as his gaze skated over her bare legs. “I’ll say one thing for you, baby—you sure do make a man want.”
Finn looked at her as if he wanted to devour her, and while the effect was terribly sexy, she blushed.
He lifted his gaze to her breasts. “I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said to them before meeting her gaze.
She sincerely hoped it was the sort of proposition he was making with his eyes. “Oh, yeah?”
“Come with me for the day,” he said. “I need your help.”
Macy unthinkingly dropped the comforter. Anything. Anything he needed. What was it about him that could beckon her at will?
“I hate to tell you to get dressed,” he said, taking her in. “I like what I’m seeing. I like it a lot,” he added, and shoved his hands in his back pockets, almost as if to keep from touching her. “But we’ve got something to do, so get dressed. And wear something comfortable.”
She stepped toward him, lifted up on her toes, and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am so happy to see you, Finn. You have no idea.”
One corner of Finn’s mouth tipped up; he put his hand on her waist. She could see the desire in his eyes, could feel it rising up in her. Finn groaned softly. “Get dressed before I chew that top off you,” he said, and bent his head, touching his lips to the small patch of skin at her temple.
The sensation shimmered through Macy. She dropped the comforter as desire thrummed between them. “I ought to have your hide for disappearing like that.”
“You can have my hide and more,” he murmured, and skimmed her lips with his.
It was a sweet, tender kiss, but it seared her like a branding iron.
She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure as she sank back onto her heels. Finn’s hands cupped her face and tilted it up to his to kiss her. He shifted into her, his body touching hers, and his warmth and her relief that he was all right combined to send Macy’s heart falling and tumbling, back to the place they’d been before she’d discovered she was pregnant.
He moved to her neck as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and his erection pressed against her. She sank into him. She wanted to pull him onto her bed, pull the comforter over them, and sink even deeper into the desire that was filling her up. She wanted as much intimacy with him as she could before she had to tell him the truth. She might have done it, too, had nausea not begun to swirl in her belly. She swallowed it down and said breathlessly, “Bathroom,” and put her hands between them, pushing him lightly. “Have to.”
Finn lifted his head. His eyes were burning with desire, stark and untapped. But he stroked her temple again, then her hair. “God, I missed you,” he said. He dropped his hand. “Wear your hair down. I like it down.”
She smiled. Macy had never been able to resist Finn Lockhart, especially when he talked to her like that. Her helplessness where he was concerned allowed her to forget, if only for a few hours, that she was carrying Wyatt’s baby.
Finn elected to wait outside because he couldn’t trust himself not to have his way with Macy on Laru’s fancy sheets. He sat on the split rail fence that lined the drive beneath the shade of an old live oak. Milo lay at his feet, acting a little like he was afraid Finn would take off without him. In addition to Milo, Jesse Wheeler was keeping him company. “Dude,” Jesse had said when he’d wandered outside and had seen Finn leaning up against the railing. “Welcome back.”
They chatted for a bit, Jesse telling him he’d heard some wild stories about his time in Afghanistan and Finn admitting he’d been to hell and back. But it made him uncomfortable, and he turned the conversation back to Jesse. “So what is up with you?” he asked, nodding to Laru’s house.
Jesse grinned. “Some folks think I’ve gone off the reservation here, but I’m having a great time with Laru. It won’t last forever, but it’s good for both of us now.” He began to tell Finn how he’d ended up at Laru’s, and while Finn was certain it was an interesting story, he hardly heard a word Jesse said. He was thinking of that kiss in Macy’s room. It had lit a furnace in him that was burning out of control. He was finding it damn near impossible to be respectful of the issues they had.
He was never so thankful as he was when she finally came walking out of the house, a tote bag slung over her shoulder. She had on a big sun hat, but she’d left her hair down and it was skimming her bare shoulders. She was wearing a skimpy little top that rode a little high, revealing her belly button, and a pair of shorts that came down to her knees. She also wore a pair of land-to-water sandals. Her legs, slender, shapely, and tanned, were almost as much fun to look at as her backside, a view of which she was giving Finn and Jesse as she leaned over the back of his truck to put the massive tote bag in the bed.
She turned around, put her hands on her hips, and stared at the two of them. “Jesse, what are you going on about now?”
“Just filling him in on what he’s missed,” Jesse said.
Macy’s eyes narrowed.
“About me, Macy-cakes,” Jesse cheerfully clarified. “I’ll let you tell him your own dark secrets.” He pushed away from the fence. “You two have fun.”
As Jesse strolled back to the house, Finn looked at Macy. She instantly threw her hands up. “Don’t ask me,” she said. “I was as surprised as anyone to find him here. Now are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” she demanded, folding her arms.
Finn smiled and walked to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. “Get in, Fancy Face, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Macy grinned at him, adjusted her hat, and climbed into the pickup truck. Milo hopped in, too, elici
ting a cry of alarm from Macy when he walked over her and settled into the middle.
It felt just like old times, Finn thought as he walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.
31
Macy said there was something about the smell of an old pickup that made her nostalgic. Finn smiled and nodded like he knew what she meant, but privately, he thought maybe the stress was getting to her—he didn’t find anything nostalgic about the scent of leather, animal, and man mixed together.
However, the scent of her perfume was nostalgic and pretty damn arousing.
“So where did you go, Finneus?” she insisted as he pulled onto the highway, and gave him a playful tap on the shoulder.
“Up near Dallas-Fort Worth.”
“Dallas-Fort Worth! What for?”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to see if I could get my horses back.”
Macy gasped and twisted in her seat to look at him. “Did you? Please tell me you got them back!”
She looked so hopeful that he wished he could tell her that, but shook his head. “After Bill Gaines bought them from you, he split them up. He sold Fritter to a ranch in Montana. They’re entering him in competitions. I’m not sure where Bosco ended up, but I think Oklahoma.”
Macy’s face fell. “But he said…he said he wouldn’t split them up,” she said, clearly bewildered.
“I’m sure Bill Gaines said whatever he needed to say to get them. He’s wanted my horses for a long time.”
“What about Fannie?” she asked morosely.
“Well, now, he had the sense to keep Fannie,” Finn said with a smile. “The good news is that I found the old girl and I got to see her. But he’s not selling.”
Macy slumped against the serape-covered seat back.
“It’s not all bad news,” Finn assured her. “I found something else.”
She gave him a wry smile, as if she expected him to say that he’d found a pair of favored boots or something equally insignificant. “What?”
Finn grinned. “José Banda.”
