by Brenda Novak
“Morning,” Delaney replied.
“You studying somethin’?” he asked, helping himself to a cup of coffee.
Delaney covered her papers. “Nothing important. Have you heard from Conner? How’s his grandfather doing since the surgery?”
“I talked to him last night. Clive’s doing good.” He shook his head. “He’s a tough customer.”
“When’s Conner coming home?”
Roy considered her over the rim of his coffee cup, and she realized she’d sounded a bit too eager.
“I don’t know. Is someone missing him?”
She went back to the griddle to scoop the pancakes onto a plate and to pour another batch. “I was just curious.”
“Yup,” he said, and flashed one of his rare smiles that told her he saw right through her.
“Josh Hill called for him early this morning,” she said, suddenly eager to change the subject.
Roy instantly sobered. “He did? What’d he say?”
“Just wanted to talk to Conner. He said he had another number he’d try.”
Roy didn’t answer.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I heard.”
CONNER WAITED until the nurse had finished checking his grandfather’s blood pressure before slipping around her to take the seat he used every visit.
“How’re you doing today, Grandpa?” he asked, as she returned the blood pressure cuff to its rack on the wall, patted Clive’s arm and left the sterile white room.
Clive nodded. Propped up in bed, he still looked paler than usual, but more like himself than he had since the surgery.
“A little better. You?”
“Good.”
“You still heading back to the ranch today?”
“I am.” Conner glanced up as Vivian entered the room, carrying a bunch of fresh flowers she’d no doubt cut from the garden at the Napa house. Her perfume and the fragrance of the flowers instantly overcame the slight antiseptic odor that generally predominated in the hospital. “Hi, Mom.”
She cleared a spot on the rolling table between the window and Clive’s bed and placed her arrangement next to several other bouquets he’d received over the past few days. “Hi, Con. Why didn’t you wake me this morning? I would’ve ridden over with you.”
Conner had been up since before dawn, using the Napa house’s library as a makeshift office to talk on the phone with Josh and Mike Hill, take notes, make plans. The Hill brothers were definitely interested in his idea and sounded as though they were going to get behind him. But that meant his work had just begun. He still had to draw up a partnership agreement, create a proposal for investors, construct an offer to buy the ranch and find a general contractor who was familiar with this type of project and capable of handling its scope—all details that were difficult to control from afar. Now that his grandfather was on the mend, he needed to get home.
Home? He chuckled at his own thoughts. Only a few months ago, he’d considered Idaho no better than Siberia. Now he was calling it home. How that had happened he wasn’t quite sure, but as he pictured the snow-capped mountains, the quaint town with its diner, small-time grocery store and single high school, and imagined the crisp, clean air, he felt more eager than ever to get back.
“I wanted to let you sleep,” he told his mother. “You’ve been so worried about Grandpa, I figured you could use the extra rest.”
“But this is your last day. And I’m feeling fine.”
As long as his grandfather was doing well, Conner knew his mother would be okay, too. She loved and admired the man who’d adopted her, almost to the point of hero-worship.
Bending, Vivian kissed her father on the cheek and greeted her son in the same way before taking the only other seat in the room. “Hasn’t it been great to have Conner home, Dad?” she said, crossing her legs at the ankle as elegantly as she did everything else. “I hate that he’s leaving.”
Conner had actually enjoyed his visit. Before leaving for Dundee, he’d purposely spent very little time with his family, but this stay had been different. He’d spent many hours at the hospital, of course, but even when he wasn’t here, he was content to visit with his mother, help her with grocery shopping, meals or other household activities.
“It has been good,” Clive said. “He seems to have grown up. The ranch has made a man out of him, just like I knew it would.”
“The ranch has made a man out of who?” Stephen asked, surprising them all with his sudden appearance. He’d visited the hospital a few times over the past week, but he generally claimed to be too busy. His preoccupation with business was definitely reminiscent of the hours Clive had always kept. But as far as Conner was concerned, the similarities between father and son ended there.
“We’re talking about Conner,” Vivian said. “He’s done so well in Dundee, don’t you think?”
Stephen laughed outright, even though Clive was in the room, which gave Conner his first indication that something was different. “Conner?” he scoffed. “Come on. He’s a lost cause. When are you two going to give up on him?”
His grandfather’s brows puckered. “I don’t appreciate you trying to start trouble when—”
“When what?” Stephen interrupted. “When he’s snowed you into believing he’s actually cleaning up his act?”
“You’ve never liked him,” his mother said. “You’ve always done everything in your power to make him look bad.”
“Mom, I don’t need you to stand up for me,” Conner said.
“I haven’t had to do anything to make him look bad,” Stephen continued. “He takes care of that all on his own. I just talked to Dave Small, who’s on the Dundee city council—”
“Called you, did he, Stephen?” Conner interrupted, knowing perfectly well that Stephen had been rooting around and checking up on him in the hope of turning the tide against Conner. But Stephen was already too involved in his tattling to acknowledge his words.
“He had a few things to say about the new and improved Conner,” he went on.
“What does Dave Small have to do with Conner or the ranch or anything else?” his grandfather asked.
“He doesn’t have anything to do with the ranch,” Stephen said. “But he knows plenty about the scandal Conner’s caused.”
“Scandal?” Clive asked sharply.
Stephen leaned an elbow on the counter as though delighted with the attention he was receiving—and the bomb he was about to drop. “You know Millie and Ralph Lawson, right?”
Conner felt his stomach tense. Here it comes…
“Sure, I know ’em. Known ’em for years,” Clive said. “They’re good folks.”
“Well, you may be hearing from them real soon. Conner’s knocked up Dundee’s librarian, who also happens to be their daughter. The whole town’s buzzing with the news.” Stephen’s mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smile. “Seems Delaney Lawson was a bit of a saint before she ran into him.”
Clive’s eyes shifted to Conner, and the spark of pride that had flickered in their depths only seconds before disappeared. “That’s not true, is it, Con?” he asked. “You haven’t left Millie and Ralph’s daughter, or any other young lady, holding the bag, have you?”
Conner stood. Stephen had laid it all on the line; his secret was out. For a moment, he thought of explaining how it had happened, how Delaney had asked him to dispense with her virginity and he’d innocently obliged. But he knew, with his past, how hollow any excuse would sound. And he wasn’t willing to save himself at Delaney’s expense. He had to take full responsibility and make it right—or he’d disappoint his grandfather again.
He forced a bright smile even though the resentment he felt toward Delaney suddenly spiked. “Thanks for ruining my surprise, Stephen,” he said. “And just when I was about to make the big announcement.”
“The big announcement?” Stephen scoffed, still smug.
“Yeah. I have good news, but I wanted to save it for the right moment, which I guess is now, thank
s to you.”
Stephen’s expression finally showed a touch of uncertainty. “What do you mean?”
Taking a deep breath, Conner replied with as much excitement as he could manage. “I’m getting married.”
His mother briefly covered her mouth with one hand. His grandfather pushed the button that raised his bed.
“You’re marrying this woman who’s pregnant with your child?” his mother asked.
“It’s true that Delaney and I are expecting a baby. But I’m happy about it,” he lied.
Stephen looked stricken, but his grandfather was obviously pleased. “I can’t think of anything better for you, son,” he said. “The people of Dundee are good people, salt of the earth, and it’s high time you settled down.”
Conner had a momentary vision of Delaney lying to him in the lobby of the Bellemont, lying to him in his hotel room, and wanted to throttle her. If not for her, he wouldn’t be in this position.
At least the shock on Stephen’s face was gratifying. “That’s what I’ve been thinking,” he murmured.
“But you haven’t even mentioned her,” his mother said. “When did you two meet?”
Conner focused on Stephen and kept his smile firmly in place. For the moment, he’d outmaneuvered him, but it was going to be a costly move. Marriage? Now? “Almost the minute I arrived in Idaho.”
“He’s lying,” Stephen said. “He just came up with this. I can tell.”
But everyone ignored him.
“A wedding. Isn’t that wonderful, Dad?” Vivian gushed. “Conner’s getting married and starting a family. I can’t wait to meet the lucky bride. When’s the wedding?”
“Uh…we haven’t set a date yet. But soon,” he said. “You’ll be the first to know.” Right behind Delaney.
“So when we see you next, it’ll be in Dundee? Is that where you’re having the wedding?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that wonderful?” Vivian said again.
Thrilling, Conner thought. Now all he had to do was convince Delaney. He doubted she’d be too happy about it, but she was the one who’d gotten him into this. And she was going to be the one who’d get him out.
IT WAS LATE BY THE TIME Conner’s plane touched down in Boise. He rented a car because he hadn’t arranged for anyone to pick him up, and headed out onto the open road, eager for a couple of hours to think before he confronted Delaney. How was he going to get her to marry him? He couldn’t exactly force her, which meant he had to enlist her cooperation. But how? They didn’t know each other very well, and he hadn’t been particularly nice in the time they’d been acquainted; he’d been too angry for that. He didn’t have a lot to offer as far as stability went, considering the risk he was about to take, and she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want anything from him. None of which stacked the odds in his favor. Besides, he couldn’t help balking at having his hand forced like this, which made winning her heart completely out of the question.
So what other weapon did he have?
Logic, he decided. Marriage would solve a myriad of problems. It would give their baby his name, save Delaney’s reputation, relieve her of at least part of the financial burden, protect his grandfather from further shame and reduce his uncles’ power over him. It also gave Conner some claim on Delaney. If they were married, she wouldn’t be slow-dancing with other men at the Honky Tonk as though she were single, he told himself. She’d make a commitment to him, he’d make a commitment to her, and they’d both be committed to their baby. That was the way it was supposed to be, and she was the one who’d chosen this path back in Boise, right?
By the time Conner passed beneath the wrought-iron arch leading to the ranch, he’d made his decision. He’d approach her in the morning, lay it all out and they’d set a date. How hard could it be? Then he’d get back to all the other things he had to do, like buy a nine-million-dollar ranch without any money of his own. And buy it, moreover, from his uncles, who would certainly fight him if they thought he had half a chance of succeeding.
He was the black sheep of the family, the one who wasn’t supposed to be able to do anything right. But now he was getting married, having a child, buying a ranch and building a huge resort. Was he crazy? Probably. But he wasn’t about to change course.
With a sigh, Conner parked as close to the door as he could manage with all the other vehicles already clogging the drive. He grabbed his bag and hopped out. He’d told Roy to let Delaney know he’d be home tonight, but he hoped she hadn’t waited up. He was tired and overwhelmed and figured tomorrow would be soon enough to set everything straight. Yet, when he let himself inside and found the whole place dark, he was strangely disappointed.
Evidently she wasn’t very excited about seeing him. Was she asleep? Or had she gone home for the night?
He set his bag in the living room and paused at the end of the hall instead of going immediately to bed. The house smelled of fresh-ground coffee and wood smoke, but there was a hint of Delaney here, too—her perfume, perhaps—and it caught him by the throat. He wanted to see her, he realized. He wanted to see her now.
Only because they had unfinished business, he told himself, but it was enough of an excuse to get him moving quietly down the hall toward her room. He stood on the other side of her door, listening for any sound, but he couldn’t hear anything. Dare he barge in? She hadn’t worried about changing his entire life that night in Boise. Why should he care about courtesy now?
He lifted a hand to knock, then hesitated and quietly opened the door. Delaney was sleeping in the middle of the bed. The blinds, only half-drawn, let in sufficient moonlight to reveal the fan of hair on her pillow, the delicate profile of her face, a bare arm thrown over the blankets.
The sight of her sleeping so peacefully soothed Conner’s anger, but it did nothing to make him feel like going to his room. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he slipped inside and stood by the edge of her bed, gazing down at her. She was beautiful. Regardless of what she’d done to him, regardless of what might happen between them, he had to give her that. When he imagined her growing big with his child, he felt an inexplicable sense of pride. And when he lay in his bed at night, he sometimes thought about the coming months and visualized her taking his hand and guiding it to her swollen abdomen to let him feel his baby kick.
From there, it wasn’t hard to fantasize about her taking his hands and guiding them someplace even more exciting. He remembered her hesitancy the first time he’d made love to her, the slow yet trusting way she’d eventually opened up to him, and wondered what it would be like to make love to her a second time. Here. Now.
Arousal swept through him as he imagined her waking up and pulling back the blankets in a silent invitation, pictured himself eliciting from her the same desire he felt, then taking her hard and fast until she cried his name. He wanted to hear her say she wasn’t content with being alone. That she wanted more than his baby. That she wanted him.
But he knew better. She already had what she wanted. She’d told him that, and her indifference at the Honky Tonk only confirmed it.
Raking a hand through his hair, he started to go, but her voice stopped him.
“Conner? Is that you?”
He turned, his heart in his throat. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here?”
What was he doing here? Why had he complicated his emotions by acknowledging the desire she evoked? He had no idea. “Just checking on you. I thought maybe you’d gone home for the night.”
She didn’t answer right away. “Do you need something?” she said at last.
“I need to talk to you, but we’ll do it in the morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Is your grandfather going to be okay?”
“I think so.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, that’s good,” he said, but he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying, he was thinking about touching her again, and he kn
ew that if he didn’t get out of her quiet, dark room, he’d try. “It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Conner?” she called as he left.
He didn’t dare stop. He forced his feet to carry him at a quick and decisive pace to his room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CONNER DIDN’T COME to breakfast or go out on the range with the other cowboys. Delaney had assumed he was sleeping after getting in so late, but she found him in his office, looking as though he’d been up all night, judging by his rumpled clothes and the stubble on his chin.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, pausing in the doorway and wondering at the change in him. Something was different. She could sense it. She’d felt it last night when he came to her room, and she felt it now, the second his eyes flicked in her direction. He was rather morose, for one thing, which Delaney didn’t really understand. But it wasn’t just his dark mood. He was also more focused, more driven. Why? “I’ve brought you some bacon and eggs.”
“Set it here, please.” He shoved some papers to the side and went right back to his computer.
Delaney deposited the plate on his desk. She knew he expected her to leave, but she’d been waiting for more than a week to talk to him. She wanted to discuss what they could both expect in the months to come, and felt it was time they made some decisions. So she waited, clearing her throat when he didn’t immediately look up, and finally managed to capture his attention.
“Is there something else?” he asked.
“Last night you said you wanted to talk to me. And I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you, too. So I was hoping this might be a good time.”
He kept typing. “Why don’t you go first?”
“Okay.” She waited for him to turn toward her, but he didn’t. “Are you going to stop that?”
He checked his watch, then glanced reluctantly at his computer screen. “I can only spare a few minutes.”
“Then, maybe we should postpone this until—”
“No, go ahead.” He swiveled to face her. “We need to get it handled. That’ll put at least one hurdle behind me.”
