by Alison Kent
She couldn’t call Gardner again, not after this, not after he’d flipped her world like a snowflake globe, leaving the pieces of who she had been to scatter at her feet. He raised too many questions, made her wonder if she’d been hiding. Made her wonder what she wanted.
No. That wasn’t true. She knew exactly what she wanted. The same things so many wanted. Success. Happiness. Security. Love. Golden’s Touch provided her with an incredible sense of fulfillment. Her strangely quixotic circle of friends were dearer to her than family.
And if she’d been hiding from anything, it was the fact that her drive for stability in life precluded having children.
She would never subject a child to her harried lifestyle. To the anxiety of last-minute travel plans, the days out of town that stretched into weeks. To her short bursts of temper brought on by the internal stress of wondering if a purchase would meet a client’s needs, or if a buying trip had been a waste of time.
Children deserved better than emotionally exhausted and physically absent parents.
Or parents too absorbed in each other to remember they’d brought children into the world.
FOUR
“You look like warm mash, boy.”
Gardner set a stack of pancakes in front of his uncle, then started in on a batch for Ty. “Didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“You didn’t say much when you got in from Houston last evening. I figured you still had money business on your mind,” Judson said, drowning the pancakes in maple syrup.
If only his meandering attention could be explained away so easily, Gardner thought. “The meetings went well. The travel went bad. I had to leave the Cessna in San Antonio for service and catch a commercial flight to Dallas, then to Houston, then back to San Antonio. I had a lousy flight home.”
“The Cessna still not running right?”
Gardner smiled wryly. “No. Pilot exhaustion.”
Judson sliced through the stack with the side of his fork. “Understandable considering you covered half of Texas in one day.”
Gardner poured a circle of batter onto the griddle. “Yeah, well, remind me to pick a smaller state next time I take on a ranch this size.”
Judson chuckled. “Only problem with that is there ain’t a hell of a lot of states a ranch this size would fit in.”
“And this time next week Camelot will be twenty-five hundred acres bigger,” Gardner reminded him.
“Hmm. Too bad it’s going to waste,” Judson said around a mouthful of pancakes.
“What do you mean going to waste?”
“Well, I’ll be kickin’ off here in a couple of years and the way you’re working you won’t be far behind.” Judson gestured with his fork. “You ain’t doing much that I can see in the way of producing an heir.”
“The only kicking I’m gonna do is hard across your butt if you don’t mind your own business when it comes to my heirs.”
“I call ’em like I see ’em, Gardner.” Judson forked up another bite. “Tyler’s got the right idea. Head up to Austin. Grab you a coed.”
“You and Ty in this conspiracy together?”
Yawning, Tyler stepped off the bottom stair into the kitchen. Rubbing his eyes, he scraped back a chair from under the table and plopped down. “What conspiracy?”
Judson elbowed him in the ribs. “I was just telling your brother here that if he don’t get himself a couple of kids, you’re gonna be the owner of Camelot in a few years the way you’re running around here breeding.”
Ty blushed to the roots of his hair. “I’m not running around breeding. And if there’s any conspiracy here it’s you two butting into my sex life.”
“Probably because you’re the only one out of the three of us that has one,” Gardner grumbled.
“Hey, the studies are true. A man at eighteen’s in his prime.” Beaming, Tyler cocked back his chair.
Judson snorted. “A man at eighteen’s still a boy.”
Gardner flipped Tyler’s last pancake, served his brother, then started in on a batch for himself. “I don’t know, Jud. Ty’s been doing a man-size job for the past four years. I think he’s earned the title.”
“Thank you, big brother.”
“As a matter of fact, Ty, I’ve got a man-size job for you when you get home from school. Sam Coltrain wants to lease the south sixty to run a few head. I need you to check the fence running over Little Creek.” Gardner slapped butter on his pancakes. “Think you can handle that, big man?”
Ty’s chewing slowed. “About after school, Gardner.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got a major test in chemistry next week. I really gotta hit the books.”
“Fine. Riding the fence line shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”
“I was thinking of heading over to Tamara Shotweiler’s house right after school. To study.”
“You were thinking that, were you?” Gardner arched one brow. “You and who else?”
Tyler talked down to his plate. “Me and Tamara, Eric, Justin, Cory, and Lynette.”
“Sounds like a breeding party to me,” Judson said, pushing away from the table and carrying his plate to the sink.
Gardner watched conflicting emotions flicker over Ty’s face. There was no doubt his brother did a man’s job, and his loyalty to the family business would win out every time over a pleasurable afternoon spent with friends—and one special girl.
But Gardner hated making Ty choose.
He didn’t feel he had the right to deprive his brother of his last months of high school fun. Come next fall, school would be all business. Tyler’s dream to become a veterinarian wouldn’t be sidelined by any number of coeds. Gardner knew his brother that well.
“What are you staring at?” Tyler snarled.
“You.” Gardner smiled. “I’m jealous as hell.”
“Of me?”
“I remember eighteen.”
“Damn, Gardner. Your memory must be really good, thinking back that far.”
Gardner threw a pancake at his brother’s head. “Funny, Tyler. Very funny. You go study. I’ll check the fence across the creek. Right after I get back from talking to the drilling crew out in Acre 52.”
Judson mashed his hat down to his ears and headed toward the back door “You want me to have Ol’ Pete fix up a bedroll for you?”
“No. I don’t want to be out overnight. I’ll take the Range Rover.”
Both Tyler and Judson turned to stare. Gardner glared back. “What? A man can’t sleep in his own bed if he wants to?”
“You ain’t never cared where you slept, Gardner Barnes,” Judson answered.
Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe he wants to get home because he’s expecting another one of those late-night phone calls.”
Gardner’s spatula clattered against the stovetop. “What are you talking about?”
“I was minding my own business, drinking a glass of milk in my own kitchen.” Tyler got up and walked through the motions. “The phone rang, so I picked it up like you told me.”
“And you eavesdropped on a private conversation?”
“Nope. All I heard was you saying, ‘I was wondering if you’d call.’ Then she said”—Ty batted his lashes, laced his fingers beneath his chin—“‘I was wondering myself.’”
Gardner popped his brother on the leg with a dish towel but couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips. “You go to school. And you”—he pointed at Judson—“see about that tractor.”
“No need telling me what to do. I’ve been keeping Camelot’s motors running since before you was born.” Judson pushed open the screen door, then turned back. “Hey, Tyler. If the phone rings tonight, I’ll get it. I need a cheap thrill.”
Gardner glared. “If the phone rings tonight, neither one of you will get it.”
Tyler headed upstairs, Judson out the door, both leaving their laughter bouncing off the walls of the kitchen. Gardner poured more batter, finishing off his pancakes whi
le he cooked up breakfast for the rest of the men.
He had a decision to make.
After hanging up last night before Harley could, he’d stayed in bed until dawn, imagining the classic lines of her body in a nightgown held up by strings. He’d thought of her beside him smelling like sunshine and beneath him, her honey and clover his to take.
She appealed to him in so many ways and at levels he was just now able to understand. Jud was right about Gardner’s need to settle down, to start a family, to still the restlessness stirring in his blood. It didn’t have anything to do with love.
So how far could he go without scaring Harley off? He couldn’t believe some of the things that had come out of his mouth last night. But he’d been propped up in bed, naked, the sheet across his lap doing nothing to hide the effect she had on his libido.
And he’d wanted her to know up front about the primitive urges she roused in him. The feelings weren’t new, only the intensity. She was nothing like what he’d thought she’d be.
Gardner grinned to himself, sliding a spatula beneath the last pancake. Cutout cookies and fudge. She didn’t look the type. But he liked that about her. He liked it damn good. He wondered how many surprises she had in store for him. Because he intended to find out.
Oh, yes, he definitely intended to find out.
FIVE
HARLEY TRIED THE FRONT DOOR of Golden’s Touch and found it locked. So far, so good. She’d spent the entire day shopping in Old Town Spring, hoping to avoid Mona and her questions. It looked as if her plan had worked. Slipping her key in the knob, Harley stepped inside.
No such luck Mona stood in the center of the shop, her angled black hair framing her face, a pencil-thin sheath falling in a line of turquoise from her shoulders to mid-calf. Platform shoes gave her three inches of height advantage and she held her hands laced at her waist, meditation-style.
Harley closed the door. “Are you waiting for someone to make an offer?”
Mona’s nose went up a notch. “I am unaffordable.”
Briefly, Harley wondered if Gardner could afford her, then she clicked her tongue. “I pity poor Gibson.”
“I never make Gibson pay.”
“Then who bought the wine and candles and shrimp for the Florentine?” Harley asked, brushing by as she headed to her desk.
“Gibson was exhausted so he ordered in.”
Harley glanced back over her shoulder. “Who did you find to deliver seafood?”
“We didn’t have seafood. We ordered”—Mona hesitated—“a pizza.”
“You?” Harley asked, and tried not to laugh. “A pizza? I’m surprised you’re not in bed with a caloric hangover.”
Mona pressed a hand to her stomach. “It was strictly vegetarian with an organic and gluten-free wheat crust but I’m still feeling rather bloated today.”
“Then go home. Put your feet up. Have a couple of sprouts for dinner.” Harley pulled her organizer from her briefcase, flipped to the To Do section, then removed her ledger from the desk drawer. “I’ve got about five hundred things I need to finish up this afternoon. And if you don’t leave, you’re liable to find a price tag hanging from your earlobe.”
“I hope that means you didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“I slept,” she answered, dropping into her desk chair.
“Then you didn’t call?”
Harley didn’t even have to answer. Her heated face spoke for her
“A-ha! You did.” Mona perched her bottom on the edge of the desk. “I want to know every detail.”
“There are no details.”
“Start with what he sounds like.”
“Is this the third degree?” Harley asked, realizing she’d forgotten—purposefully?—to tell Mona she’d heard Gardner’s voice on the plane.
Mona scowled.
“All right. All right. His voice is deep, sexy, hypnotic.” As deep and sexy and hypnotic as she’d expected. Even her body remembered. “He’d be the perfect host for a late-night radio show.”
“Like Alex Jones?”
Harley rolled her eyes. “No. Like the deejays who dedicate love songs to lonely hearts during the hours most sensible people are in bed.”
“Hmm. You stay up and listen to a lot of those, do you?”
“The only ones I’ve ever heard have been on TV. Or in books.”
“How can you hear something in a book?”
“If you’d take the time to read one, you might just find out.”
Mona glared. “Just tell me what he said.”
I want to taste your clover. To pull you hard beneath me. Harley picked up her pencil. “He lives with his brother and his uncle.”
“Where?”
“I’m not sure.”
Mona slapped her palm on the open page of Harley’s ledger. “You didn’t ask?”
“His area code gives me a general idea.”
“His area code covers half of West Texas, Harley. What does he do?”
“I don’t know.” Harley lifted Mona’s hand away and turned to Dr. Fischer’s account.
“You didn’t ask that, either?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to know where he lives or what he does.” Harley tapped the eraser end of her pencil against her upper lip. “Gardner Barnes is so perfect, Mona. I’m not ready to put an end to the fantasy. Not yet.”
Mona pressed her lips together. “You’re afraid he’ll turn out to be just like Brad.”
“I can’t help it. I spent four years married to a self-absorbed jerk who was God’s physical gift to women.” Twirling the pencil between two fingers, Harley grimaced at the pang of memory. “Lord knows he certainly let enough of them unwrap him.”
“Brad had the mentality of a slug, Harley.” Mona crossed her knees, the side slit of her dress revealing one slim leg. “I have to admit, though, if I was in need of a personal trainer I’d go for one with his bod. He obviously knows his stuff.”
“Which is exactly why he did what he did. Brad needed constant admiration, from his coworkers, his clients. Even from me.” And fool that I was, I gave it to him and called it love. Harley snorted. “Brad’s entire self-worth is tied up in his biceps and quads and that muscle between his legs.”
Mona assumed a look of extreme concentration. “I’ve always wondered if weight training develops every muscle a man has. Though since it’s actually an organ…” She waved a hand as the sentence thankfully trailed.
“Hmph. Women panted after him like rabid dogs. And he ate it up.” Harley slumped back in her chair and tightened her grip on the pencil.
Mona blew out a puff of breath. “Men can be so shallow.”
I want the tension, the anticipation I want to know you, inside out. But I’m not that shallow. I can wait. Harley’s pencil snapped. “Yeah, and I don’t want to find out that Gardner Barnes is just as bad.”
“So ask him what he does. Find out if he’s all brawn and no brains.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head vigorously, her unbound hair brushing her neck. “Not yet.”
“That sounds like shallow judgment on your part.”
“Maybe so, but it’s my fantasy, all right? When I get to know him better, then I’ll ask.” Harley bit off the words, defensive, wondering when she’d decided she wanted to know him better.
Mona pursed her lips. “So all you found out was that he lives with his brother and his uncle? Nothing about those medieval sounding words on his card? What did you talk about?”
“Mostly me.” When Mona glared, Harley gave up and shoved the ledger away. “I don’t know, Mona. He kept twisting the conversation, asking me questions.”
“Is he going to call you?”
“I don’t know. I suppose he could. He’s got my number now.”
Mona rolled her eyes. “Then you’re going to call him back?”
“I might.”
“You have to. At least to find out about the Excalibur’s King thing.”
>
“I don’t know what to do.” Call me tomorrow. Or the day after. But call me. Call me.
“Then give me the card.” Mona held out her hand. “I’ll call him.”
“I can’t. I burned it,” Harley lied.
“What?” Mona shrieked.
“C’mon, Mona. What’s the point? I’m obviously not who or what he thought I was.”
“What makes you say that?”
“There were a lot of long silences in the conversation.” Harley grimaced. “Usually right after I’d tripped over my tongue to give him the intimate details of my life.”
“So you told him the truth about who you are?”
“I’m not going to lie about who I am. A man likes me or he doesn’t.”
Mona crossed her arms and gave Harley her best will-you-get-over-it glower. “Back to Brad, are we?”
Harley groaned and buried her face in her hands. “No. We’re not back to Brad. We’re back to me and what I want.”
“And right now you vant to be alone.”
“Only because I’ve got a lot of work to do and I don’t want to be down here until midnight.”
“Oh. Fine. I’ll go,” Mona said, miffed. “I don’t need this abuse. I get enough of it from Gibson.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“He’s having a mid-life crisis.”
“Who? Mr. Show-Me-the-Way-To-the-Nearest-Party?”
Mona appeared deep in thought for a moment, then said, “He wants to have a baby.”
“You’re kidding.” One look at her friend’s face changed Harley’s mind. “You’re not kidding. What are you going to do?”
“When? Before or after my nervous breakdown?”
“Oh, Mona,” Harley said and pulled her dear friend close.
After a long moment, Mona sat back. She lifted her regal nose and sniffed. “Don’t let this get around, Harley Golden, but I really am traditional at heart. Without order there is chaos.”
“Order?” Harley couldn’t help herself “As in, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Mona with a baby carriage?”
“I suppose that’s your idea of humor?”
Harley grimaced. “Pretty bad, huh.”
