She’d told him she wasn’t in the market for another man, and that should be a relief. But she could have hidden motives. He didn’t know yet what made her tick. He only knew the chemistry between them was troubling because he was finding it harder and harder to resist her.
Seeing her like this with her daughter—
“Tate, is everything okay?” She had stopped humming and was looking up at him now.
“Everything’s fine. The monsters are driven out of the room.”
When she smiled at him like that, he ached to do a lot more than kiss her, so what he was going to do was leave. “I have work to do in the barn. I just wanted to tell you it would be about an hour before I switch on the security system and turn in.”
Marie was asleep in her mother’s arms now. Setting the bottle on the floor, Anita lifted her precious bundle, carried her daughter to the crib and laid her in it.
He found he couldn’t just walk away.
Anita tenderly brushed Marie’s hair behind her ear, leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, then came to join him at the door. “Do you like what I did to the great room or would you rather I take everything back? I can, except for the leather rug.”
After a slight hesitation, he admitted, “I like it all.”
“I have all the receipts if you want to see them. They’re on the kitchen counter. So is the change from the money you gave me. I didn’t have a lot left.”
“I can’t believe it stretched as far as it did,” he remarked.
“I know where to shop.”
Most women did. Only it seemed Anita had looked for bargains, and he wondered if she’d done that to make a good impression or if it was just second nature to her.
The hallway light was on and its yellow beams played with the red strands in Anita’s hair. The freckles on her nose begged to be kissed. Tate took a deep breath to remind himself to keep his guard up.
“Would you like hotcakes tomorrow morning for breakfast instead of eggs? Or both?”
Yeah, he’d like both. He’d like more than Anita’s hotcakes and eggs. For that reason, he said, “I’ll be skipping breakfast tomorrow. I have to be at a site early.”
From her expression, he couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or not. He couldn’t tell if she cared or not.
She said softly, “I’ll make hotcakes again this weekend. Then you won’t miss out.”
His refrigerator was stocked. His cupboards were full. Good smells lingered in the house, and he now had a great room he’d invite anyone into. So why was he feeling so unsettled? Why was he wishing Donna had never happened and he could look at Anita with unjaded eyes?
But he couldn’t. The longer he stood here, the more he’d entertain thoughts and pictures that would haunt his dreams.
Moving out into the hall, away from her vanilla scent, green eyes and curvy figure, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he heard her repeat as he strode to the kitchen and then out the door.
Chapter Five
When Anita heard a horse trailer rumbling up Tate’s long driveway, she scooped up Marie, who’d been crawling toward a stacking toy, and peered out the great room’s large picture window. She’d been staying out of Tate’s way, and he’d been staying out of hers. That had seemed the best thing to do during the past few days. He’d been away almost all day Saturday. She’d taken the kids shopping for shoes and school supplies on Sunday. And this morning he’d left before she’d gotten up.
There was definitely a buzz in the room whenever they were together.
Now, as she saw his SUV follow the horse trailer up to the garage and then around the back of the house, her pulse picked up its pace and she couldn’t seem to slow it down.
Hormones, she told herself.
Loneliness, a voice whispered back.
Aloud she said to Marie, “I can’t possibly be lonely with you three around.”
But the truth was she’d been lonely since she was a kid. She’d always longed for a deep, soul-stirring connection to someone else and had never found it. But her knees going weak whenever Tate was in the same room had nothing to do with the soul.
Hurrying to the back door, she stepped outside into a beautiful day. It wouldn’t be long before fall made its cooler appearance. The sky was robin’s-egg blue, the clouds as puffy as marshmallows, the sun almost piercing in its intensity as it shone on Tate. His tan Stetson hid his face from her as he stood by the barn and spoke to a man briefly, then helped him unload two horses. They were gorgeous animals, gray with spots on their rump. Appaloosas, she guessed. She’d never been around horses, though a person couldn’t live in Texas and not know something about them. Two of the animals ran in the corral, but now Tate and the other man led the two new ones into the barn.
On a whim, she started down the path through the fenced-in yard with Marie in her arms, murmuring to her little girl that they could both use some fresh air. As she approached the barn door, Tate stepped outside with the other man, who tipped his hat to Anita, then ambled toward the truck and trailer.
She watched as he climbed inside, expertly backed around, then left the property.
With his head cocked, Tate was looking at her quizzically. “Are you bored with housekeeping or just curious?”
There was a wariness to his tone she didn’t quite understand. “Just curious. I have work to do on the computer, but Marie decided she doesn’t want to take a nap today, so I’ve been chasing after her instead. I thought a walk outside might put her in a better mood for a snooze.”
He motioned toward the barn. “Have you had a look around?”
What did he think she did? Went snooping when he wasn’t home? “No, I haven’t. Moving and getting in tune with my duties here has kept me busy. Besides, I have no business being in your barn when you’re not here.”
When he studied her, she didn’t understand what he was looking for.
After a few moments, he gave a little nod and asked, “Would you like a tour now? I don’t know if barn smells might help put Marie in a sleepy mood, but we can give it a try.”
Marie cooed and babbled in her baby language, seeming to agree with the whole idea. They both laughed. Anita touched her head to her daughter’s and kissed her forehead.
Tate frowned, then motioned her toward the wide-open door.
“It still smells new,” she remarked as she stepped inside.
“Yep, and it’s still clean, too. I figure about a month should take care of that.”
The barn was immense. She could see it was divided into three sections with at least twelve stalls, an open area for storage and an enclosed room she supposed held the tack. The two new horses swished their tails and moved around, nibbling at feed in their trough now and then.
“They’re gorgeous,” she murmured, seeing them close-up. “Appaloosas?”
“Purebred mares. I’m hoping by this time next year, they’ll have foals.”
“Oh, the kids would love watching…” She stopped.
“What?” he asked, turning toward her.
“Nothing. It’s just that we don’t know what will happen a year from now. I learned a long time ago I could make plans, but when fate intervenes, the best strategizing doesn’t mean a thing.”
As they strolled down the walkway, Marie laid her head on her mom’s shoulder and Anita’s arm brushed Tate’s. When it did, he glanced down at her. Their eyes caught and held and they stopped.
“About the barn, Anita.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want the boys anywhere near it without me. Got it?”
There were shadows in Tate’s eyes and she wondered what caused them. His mood seemed edgy today, and she thought it better not to ask. “They stick pretty close.”
“Boys are boys,” he mumbled.
Pushing her thumb into her mouth, Marie cuddled closer.
“She looks like she might be ready for that nap now,” Tate said.
�
��I hope so. I have a client who wants Web site changes up tonight.”
Tate tilted his head. “How many clients do you have?”
“Eleven. Possibly a few more. They’ve seen my work and e-mailed me about prices for getting their sites up and running.”
“You want to turn into a computer techie?” he asked with a grin.
“No, I want to become a graphic artist. And I will someday.”
Tate took a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. He opened it and handed it to her. “Here’s a guest list for the party. Do you think you could buy invitations and send them out in the next couple of days?”
“Sure, that’s not a problem. I can make a run into town after Marie wakes up and put them in the mail tomorrow.”
“I’d appreciate that, as this is short notice.”
“I don’t think anybody will mind. People usually like a good party.”
“You’re probably right about that.”
“I made up two menus. Maybe later you can look them over and tell me which one you like. I’ll have to start buying and preparing.”
Leaning back against a stall, Tate crossed one booted foot over the other. “I’m going to hire someone to tend bar that day. I’ll also put in for someone to help you serve. You can’t be twenty places at once.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t want to run you ragged.”
Shifting Marie to her other arm, she brushed her daughter’s wild curls behind her ear. “I’m used to waitressing an eight-hour shift. One party won’t run me ragged. But having another pair of hands to help serve and keep plates refilled would be nice.”
The barn was silent, except for the swish of a horse’s tail. She grew warm as Tate’s gaze drifted over her face and lingered on her lips. She still remembered his taste. She still remembered his strong arms around her all too vividly. In the stillness, she could almost hear the beating of their hearts.
Marie laid her little hand against Anita’s face, then nestled her head once more on her shoulder.
“She is such a good baby.” Tate’s voice was husky as he looked down at the little girl, and Anita suddenly knew without a doubt, that he’d be a good dad. She’d seen him with her boys. Now the look in his eye said he’d cherish a daughter.
“I’d better take her back to the house while the mood is right.” Turning away from Tate, Anita headed down the walkway, eager to put her daughter down for a nap, get to work and forget the tender look in Tate’s eyes before she read more into it than was good for her.
Half an hour later, Anita sat at her computer, deciding on colors and fonts for her client’s Web site. Her computer was by no means up-to-date. She’d bought it used for a song. When people got rid of their old machines, they didn’t know what to do with them, and she’d put this one to good use. She was intently studying the screen when she heard Tate’s footfalls and remembered what he’d said about entering her rooms.
She braced herself for the knock. When it came, she called, “Come in.”
As Tate entered her sitting room, she could see he, too, was remembering what had happened there. Gruffly, he said, “I thought I’d take a look at those menus. Or would you rather I do it later?”
“Now is fine. This is going well. I’ll have it finished before Marie wakes up.”
She’d pulled the papers from a folder and handed them to him when her phone rang.
“Go ahead and get it,” he told her. “I’ll study these.”
As she watched Tate amble to her sofa, she couldn’t help but admire his loose-gaited walk, his slim hips, his flat stomach. With a small sigh, knowing her thoughts would only lead her to trouble, she picked up the cordless phone and answered.
“It’s me,” Inez Jamison said.
“Hi, there. How are you?”
“I’m just fine. But what’s going on with you?”
“Still settling in.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean what’s going on in your life that there’s a man snooping around your old apartment?”
“What man?”
“Don’t know his name. I just know he was wandering around today, asking questions and talking to your neighbors.”
“What kinds of questions?”
“Zoie Mitchell told me he wanted to know if you went out and left the kids here alone. She thought he might be from social services.”
“Social services?”
“He didn’t show any identification and I told her not to talk to him again. She’s got some sense and won’t. But not everybody’s like Zoie. Old Mrs. Kellogg is a blabbermouth. Not that there’s anything to blabber about, but you never know.”
Anita didn’t know what to do about a nebulous man who didn’t even have a name or title. “The next time he comes around, if he does, call me. I’ll drive in myself and find out what’s going on.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“No. But I don’t like someone asking questions about me.”
“How’s everything going otherwise?” Inez asked.
Glancing over at Tate, who was obviously listening to her conversation, Anita answered, “Just fine. I might need you to watch the kids the second weekend in September. Are you free?”
“There’s nothing on my calendar. I miss you terribly, but I know you have to get on with your life.”
“I’m not going to forget about you, Inez. We’re going to be friends, no matter where I am.”
“Sure, we will.”
Anita could hear in the sound of Inez’s voice that she didn’t believe her.
Inez added, “Give Marie and the boys a hug. I’ll call you if that guy comes around again.”
A few moments later, Anita settled the phone in its cradle.
Tate stood and came toward her. “Someone’s asking questions about you?”
“Yes. Apparently he’s not giving his name or his reasons. I don’t like it.” Her voice trembled a bit.
Tate took another reassuring step closer. “What are you thinking?”
“I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with the Suttons. After all, they had hired a private investigator to find out what happened to Larry. Maybe now they’re trying to find out more about me.”
“Instead of talking to you themselves?”
“When I called them with the number here, Ruth said she’d be in touch soon. I thought she meant for a visit.”
“Maybe she did mean for a visit. Maybe this man has nothing to do with them. He could be a salesman. Don’t borrow trouble, Anita.”
Looking into Tate’s blue eyes, feeling her heart flutter, she wanted to forget about a strange man looking into her business. She might as well until she knew who he was and what he was doing. “You’re right. If I keep worrying, my hair will turn gray.”
Reaching out, Tate took a curl from along her cheek between his fingers. “Wouldn’t want that to happen,” he agreed, letting the curl float away.
Clearing his throat, he looked down at the menus in his hand. “I like the first one with the chicken wings and apple-raisin pie. But I’ll leave it up to you.”
In a swift move, he laid the pieces of paper on her keyboard and aimed for the door. “I’m headed back to the construction site. It’ll be late when I get back.”
“Your supper will be in the fridge,” she said to his back.
With a backward kind of wave, he left her sitting room and closed the door.
Tate Pardell was a man of many facets and contradictions. But that didn’t concern her.
Lowering herself into the chair at her computer, she went back to work, trying not to worry about things she couldn’t control.
Over the past two weeks Anita had gotten used to being Tate’s housekeeper. He’d worked late most nights and she’d concentrated on her kids, her duties and preparations for the barbecue. The day of the barbecue dawned bright and sunny. Tate came into the kitchen about fifteen minutes before the guests were supposed to arrive. “Those things you pu
t on the tables look nice. I’m glad you suggested we set up tents and chairs out back.”
“What did you do when you lived in a condo?”
“The complex had a community room and picnic area. I used them. But this is a lot more welcoming.”
The smell of ribs and wings glazing in slow cookers and the scents of apple-raisin pie and oatmeal cookies rode on the air. Anita was glad Tate was pleased with her efforts. After all, she wanted to last in this job, didn’t she? At least long enough to squirrel away some money.
“I’ll set out hors d’oeuvres as soon as your guests start arriving. You’d better warn them that the chili dip is as hot as blazes or they’ll get a surprise.”
Tate laughed. “These folks are used to hot.”
The message in Tate’s blue eyes as he looked at her was hot. They’d been avoiding each other because they both knew that was best. Yet whenever they did come into contact, they couldn’t deny the buzz between them. Today, Anita wore her best pair of black slacks and a white blouse. Tate seemed to be taking that in, along with everything else about her.
“What time are you going to pick up the kids tonight?” he asked.
“I told Inez the party would probably be over around nine o’clock. I don’t want to bring them back here while you still have guests.”
“I suppose that’s best.”
They still hadn’t figured out a way to keep their lives completely separate, and she didn’t know if they’d ever be able to. Nevertheless, she was trying.
The “Yellow Rose of Texas” began playing through the house and Tate said, “Here we go.”
Ready to get the party started, Anita took the dips from the refrigerator, as well as the tray of vegetables. While she carried those out, Tate went to answer the front door.
To Protect and Cherish Page 7
