Читать книгу The Come-Back Cowboy - Jodi O'Donnell - Страница 10

A ddie felt as if she would be sick right there in the ranch yard, her thoughts were whirling around her head so fast, while hurt and betrayal flip-flopped in her stomach.

“Daddy hired you?” she asked through numbed lips. “That’s why you came back, to be a ranch consultant?”

“That’s right—me, Deke Larrabie.” His gaze had gone back to that stoniness that was frightening, so different was he from the emotionally charged twenty-two-year-old she’d last known. Just a split second before, though, she’d seen the spark, hot and fiery, leap to his eyes.

Yet make no mistake: The endearing rough edges of the half-boy, half-man she’d fallen in love with had been whittled away and sanded down, so that little showed that wasn’t meant to be seen.

Yes, that boy was gone. But she’d come to terms with that fact seven years ago. Hadn’t she?

“I don’t know what Daddy was thinkin’, telling you there was a job for you to do here,” Addie said desperately, trying to come up with some valid arguments while not knowing the terms Deke and her father had discussed. It was difficult to concentrate for just that reason. What had her father been thinking? Why would he take such a step behind her back? Sure, they’d discussed whether a ranching consultant would be able to do anything for the Bar G that she couldn’t do herself, given the time and the money. Which of course they’d have once she’d married…

Connor.

Sheer panic hit her like a tornado. She had to get Deke out of here before—

But it was too late. In the distance, a fire-engine red dual-wheeled pickup sped along the blacktop toward the Bar G.

Addie stepped closer to Deke, hoping to keep him from turning to see what had caught her eye.

“First of all,” she said quickly, “the Bar G’s already got someone capable of revamping its operations—me. I’ve been practically runnin’ the ranch since I was eighteen.”

“Then, why would Jud think it necessary to bring me in?” Deke asked with all reasonableness.

“I don’t know!” Oh, but she intended to find out the next time she saw her father! “Second, we’re just breaking even right now, which means there’s no room in the budget to put anyone else on the payroll.”

It near to killed her to admit such a thing, but she was desperate. The dually was turning under the lintel sign at the end of the lane.

Deke had an argument for that one, too. “Jud and I agreed I’d be workin’ without pay for the time being,” he said, adding quietly, “I thought it the least I could do to make up for the damage my daddy caused seven years ago.”

For the moment, Addie forgot all about the red pickup. “We don’t need your charity, Deke Larrabie!”

“Then, you’ll understand real well why I couldn’t hang around here those years ago and take yours without raisin’ a word of protest,” he replied with that maddening calm.

No way would she let him turn the fault back on her!

Yet Addie closed her eyes against the tide of emotion that rose in her at his words, for even now the memory of that night could make her weep with unconditional sympathy. She’d never forget Deke’s face, streaked with sweat and soot, as he stared at the smoldering wreckage containing his father’s remains, in his hand the empty bottle of Jim Beam that moments before Mick Brody had shoved at him in disgust. Still filled with the power of the bond she and Deke had just forged between them, Addie had felt the last particle of her heart that hadn’t already been his go out to him.

Yet, then came the other memory, just as heart-wrenching, of when she’d laid her hand upon Deke’s arm in silent comfort, and he’d bent upon her that sightless gaze—in which she’d seen the kind of devastation she could only imagine—before turning away from her, shutting her out like the door of a vault slamming shut.

Addie pressed the back of one hand against her lips. Suddenly, it all seemed too much to handle. She didn’t care that the damp had crept through her clothing to her skin, had invaded her very bones. Didn’t care that in her fervor she’d gotten a swipe of mud on her skirt from her shoes, still clutched in her hands. Didn’t care that she looked like anything but a woman on her way to pick out her wedding ring with the man who would place it on her finger and give her the security, if not the all-encompassing emotional connection, that she so craved.

It was a choice she made gladly, because she’d had the other—and while it had been as wild and exhilarating as a Texas thunderstorm sweeping through her heart, it had left just as quickly, with nothing for her to do but pick up the pieces alone.

Yes, she must remember: such emotion wasn’t worth the heartache.

Addie opened her eyes and gazed at the man who’d caused that heartache. “Maybe you did think you were doing what was best for me by leaving, Deke. And maybe you’re hoping that by coming back you can make up for…oh, for a lot of things. Like helpin’ out the Bar G to make up for your daddy’s accident. The problem is, there’re some things you can’t make up for. Because the thing I can’t forgive you for is that you never let me decide what was best for me. You took that choice with you when you went away. And when you did, you took away Jace’s choice, too.”

Addie spread her arms in front of her in a simple gesture. “This time I have a choice, and I mean to use it by doing what’s best not only for me, but for my son.”

Gripping her shoes in her hands, she pointed them both straight at her heart. “Yes, my son, Deke. I will not let you turn Jace’s world on end.”

She almost believed he hadn’t heard her, he seemed so caught up in his thoughts, those amber-green eyes boring into her, yet looking at a place only he could see. When their focus clouded, then came back to her, the expression in them was haunted.

“I’ve got no intention of upsetting Jace,” he finally said. “But I’m not leavin’, either.”

She saw he was dead serious. Deke Larrabie, the man who’d left her then so easily, now wouldn’t budge an inch. She’d find the irony amusing if it didn’t make her want to cry.

Because she saw, too, how very, very difficult it was for him to stay.

“Look, Deke,” she said, trying one more time. “If you’re truly serious about wanting to make up for some of the pain you’ve caused us, then leave.”

The shiny red dually pulled up a few yards behind Deke. “Now. Please.” She couldn’t keep the urgency from her voice.

“No, Addie.” Shaded by the brim of his hat, his face looked carved in stone. Yet set within the stone, those eyes glittered like gems. “This time, I’ve got a choice, too—and I’m choosing to stay.”

“Then, I can’t let you reveal who you are to Jace, Deke,” Addie said fiercely. “I can’t let you do him that way! Promise me right here, right now, that you won’t, not without my say-so. You owe me that much.”

He looked about to argue, and her heart stopped. Then he gave a nod, making the promise. “I won’t tell him.”

Deke seemed to realize at the exact moment she did, what had just transpired: Once again, he’d given her his word. And once again, she would have to give him her trust.

And where was the choice in that? she almost asked him but didn’t. There was no time, for just then the door of the truck opened and out stepped Connor Brody—the man who would be her husband.

And Jace’s dad.

Deke turned at the sound of a vehicle door slamming to see a man in a Western-cut sport coat, stand-up stiff blue jeans and spit-shined ostrich-skinned boots. When he doffed his white Stetson, the sunlight glanced off the shine on his dark hair and clean-shaven face, while at the same time carving out the Clint Black-deep dimple in his cheek.

There was something familiar-looking about the guy, but Deke couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” he said, sparing not a glance toward Deke, the smile on his face all for Addie.

Deke’s antennae sprung to full alert. He shifted an assessing eye toward Addie, who was pushing her hair back from her suddenly flushed face. What was going on here?

“Mornin’,” she answered. Obviously not wanting to make introductions, she went on briskly. “I’m all set to go.”

The man glanced toward the house. “What about Jace? Isn’t he—”

“No! No, he’s not fit company this morning.”

She wouldn’t look at Deke, which made him even more suspicious. Who was this city slicker to Jace, anyway?

He sure looked disappointed, some aspect in his downcast face making Deke wonder again where he’d seen him before.

“Well, shoot. He ought to be with us, y’know, when we make our decision, if we’re going to start out like a real fam—”

“No!” Addie interrupted again. “Believe me, we’re better off lettin’ him get out whatever burr’s under his saddle on his own. So! We’d better get on the road. Don’t want to be late for our appointment.”

It was pretty apparent to Deke that Addie wanted to be shed of him as quickly as possible. Hopping from one foot to the other, she shoved her toes into her high heels while trying to get past him without so much as a by-your-leave.

The man gave a huff, which distracted Deke again with that sense of familiarity he’d be damned if he could place.

“Well, sure, but how about a hello kiss from my fiancée first?”

That sure enough came through loud and clear. His fiancée?

As luck would have it, Addie’s heel caught in a crack in the plank floor, and she stumbled beside Deke.

He bent down to pull the heel out, just as Addie stooped to do the same, his gaze seeking hers, hoping he was wrong.

Her face was even more flushed than before. She refused to meet his eyes.

Damn her! he thought as the reason for her guilt became abruptly clear to him: she intended to slot this guy into place as a father for Jace—and just seconds ago she’d extracted his promise that he wouldn’t tell Jace he was the boy’s father!

“I guess I’m not used to wearin’ these shoes,” she mumbled by way of an excuse.

He wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Even knowing he shared some blame for her situation, that he hadn’t the least right to be anything approaching angry, Deke still was. Deathly so.

“But somehow you seem to think you can fill mine for Jace pretty well, don’tcha?” he said.

That brought those blue eyes flashing up at him in defiance. Straightening, she lifted her chin before descending the steps to reach her boyfriend’s side.

“Of course you get a hello kiss—darlin’,” she said sweetly, offering him her lips.

Obviously about as mashed for a woman as a man could get, the fellow wrapped his arms around Addie and enthusiastically pressed his mouth to hers.

Sure, Deke could have made as big a show of not watching. He wanted nothing less than to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to him in this instance.

But the truth was, he couldn’t have looked away if his life depended upon it, and so he stood there in a hell of his own making, as this man with his shiny boots and country-singing-star looks kissed the stuffing out of Addie Gentry.

Finally, she broke the kiss and turned toward him, the other man’s arm lingering at her waist. It did Deke some good to see in her eyes the defiance, and not the look of a woman who’d been thoroughly and satisfyingly kissed.

He held her gaze without a flicker of emotion.

Her intended finally seemed to notice the silent byplay between them, for he spoke up. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Connor Brody’s the name.”

If he’d been stunned before, now Deke felt his blood stop dead in his veins. “Brody? Any relation to—”

“Mick Brody? He’s my dad.”

Of course. Of course. If Addie had wanted to put a fine point on just how unsuited the two of them had been for each other, she couldn’t have done a better job than to pick a Brody. He’d never met this particular Brody before, but he’d once had more acquaintanceship than he wanted with Connor’s father, Mick. And from the looks of it, Connor had all the qualities his father had been swift to point out as lacking in Deke’s father and Deke, foremost among them responsibility.

No! He had been responsible—if not in those hours leading up to D.K. Larrabie’s fatal mistake, then every single day after that. And if Addie would just give him the chance, she’d find that out!

Except, from what she had just said, he had no chance of gaining her regard or her forgiveness. The very thought that he couldn’t, nearly sent him back down the road again, in spite of everything.

But he couldn’t go. Whatever his failings before, that didn’t excuse him from doing his best by Jace from here on out.

And that meant he’d be damned if he’d stand by while she handed any man the right to be a father to his son.

“And you would be…?” Brody asked after the lengthy pause.

Deke couldn’t have invited a better opening if he’d laid it out himself.

“Well, seein’ as how you asked,” he drawled, “I’d be—”

“Don’t, Deke,” Addie said in a warning that had just enough pleading in it to stir his conscience.

The problem was, she should have stopped there. But in her urgency to keep him from spilling the beans, she stepped forward as she said it. She stumbled again, this time as she caught the toe of her shoe on the gazebo step, which propelled her straight into Deke’s arms.

Her breasts came flush up against his chest as she grabbed his shoulders for balance and his fingers grasped her waist. He just barely heard her gasp over his own stifled groan.

Holding Addie the woman as opposed to Addie the girl was as different as night and day—and yet as familiar to Deke as the fit of his leather work gloves. Because every time he’d ever stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek, every time he’d pressed his palm to the small of her back, every time he’d trailed his mouth down her throat and beyond—all came rushing back to him like the wind across the plain. He had no time to set his defenses against the familiar yearning that quickly followed.

Their gazes collided as surely as their bodies had, and Deke saw in Addie’s blue eyes what he hadn’t minutes before: desire, as strong and stormy—and undeniable—as ever.

He’d have felt some satisfaction if the sight hadn’t pushed his own desire even higher.

Deke gritted his teeth.

“Deke, please, don’t,” Addie whispered, still clinging to him. “Don’t stir up any more trouble.”

“I stirred up trouble?” How could he have imagined her being hardened? She was anything but, as soft as a down pillow and as pleasurable to sink into. “Damn it, Addie, you’re marryin’ a Brody?”

“Addie?” Brody said from a few feet behind her. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“Let me explain things to him myself, please,” she begged Deke. “Remember, you made me a promise. You wouldn’t break it again so soon, would you?”

“That promise was for Jace’s sake and you know it!” Deke said, in a low voice.

She had no response for him, only staring up at him in mute appeal, blue eyes shimmering.

“Why only nine months, Addie?” Deke demanded out of the blue, as would a man grasping at straws. But he had to know. “Why’d you give up lookin’ for me after just nine months?”

“Why seven years, Deke?” she whispered as insistently. “Why has it taken you seven whole years to come back?”

Damn but it was quick, that wicked sharp blade of guilt slipping between his ribs, cutting through nearly a decade’s worth of defenses, so that he’d have done anything to rid himself of the pain.

Then Deke’s gaze fell to Addie’s lips, still glistening from the kiss of that Roy Rogers wannabe—and a Brody to boot. The sight sure enough bought him a measure of reason.

“What’s that sayin’, Addie?” Deke murmured. “Somethin’ like, Those that can’t run with the big dogs shouldn’t come off the porch.”

He didn’t voice the other bromide that had sprung to mind: All’s fair in love and war.

He set her away from him and gave the now thoroughly stumped Connor Brody one of his friendliest smiles.

“To answer your question, I’m the new ranching consultant at the Bar G,” he said.

He let the relief just barely touch Addie’s expression before he added, “The name’s Deke Larrabie.”

Brody frowned. “Larrabie? You mean you’re…?”

“That’s right—Jace’s long-lost daddy, come back to stay.”

Connor’s expression of stunned hurt tore a patch of anger through Addie a mile wide—yet failed to entirely uproot her own culpability.

Even though Connor and his father were very different, she could see why Deke would take particular issue with the fact that she’d have anything to do with Mick Brody’s family, considering Mick’s scathing condemnation of Deke and his father the night D.K. Larrabie died.

Of course, everyone also knew Mick had never gotten over it when D.K. ran off with his intended bride years before. Not many county folk had blamed Mick for getting a bit of his own back, even if it couldn’t have been done at a crueler time.

But what better reason was there to bury such ancient history for good! Connor wasn’t to blame for his father’s actions any more than Deke was for D.K.’s.

She noticed Connor concentrating on straightening the silver conchos on his braided leather hatband in the removed manner she’d come to recognize as his way of closing off his doubts about her feelings for him—and Jace’s objections to him as his new father.

Blast it! She should have gone with her first impulse and hustled Connor away from the Bar G so she could make her explanations to him in her own way and time. But no, she’d had to provoke Deke, practically waving a red flag in front of him.

It had cost her, too, with that inadvertent contact between them that had shocked her in its intensity. And rekindled feelings in her she’d thought herself well shed of.

But it’d always been that way between them as they egged each other on, almost dare-like. On the upside, they had spurred each other forward to chart new territory, develop new skills and face down fears. On the downside, they’d urged each other on to greater and greater heights of expressing the kind of passion that was born out of a pair of natures that had never known defeat in their young lives, and so had no reason for caution.

No, Addie was forced to admit, Deke was not to blame for a lot of things, including her own reckless surrender to him.

“You could have told me, Addie,” Connor said quietly, bringing her out of her thoughts. “That you’d hired Deke Larrabie to take over the work we were going to do together on the Bar G.” He lifted his head and shot Deke a challenging glance. “And to take over the job of Jace’s father in place of me.”

“Connor.” Addie reached for his hand, giving him her most sincere look. “First of all, Deke showin’ up this morning was as big a surprise to me as it was to you—and Jace. And second, nothing’s changed of our plans.” She squeezed his fingers. “Think about it a minute. You know one of the things that’s been so important to me is that we get the Bar G’s future taken care of while gettin’ you settled in running the Tanglewood after we’re married. Deke’s being hired to do some troubleshooting? Well, that’s a temporary thing, as far as I’m concerned.”

She couldn’t even think of glancing at Deke, she was so put out with him. Connor didn’t deserve this. So theirs was no great love affair. She was very fond of him. And sure, he might lack in ranching skills, but he was steady and willing to do what it took to succeed—and she truly believed that with time Jace would come around to appreciating that. She and Connor had even discussed giving her son time to get used to him and not pushing Connor in the role of father, given the issues that had come up about Jace’s real daddy.

Which brought her back to her own responsibility in this morning’s little drama.

“As for Deke being Jace’s father, well, I know we’ve never really talked about it, since it’s pretty much common knowledge around here, except to Jace—” Addie took a deep breath and admitted frankly, “and Deke. He only just today learned himself that he was a daddy.”

Connor let go of her hand and leaned back on the front fender of the pickup truck, now clearly confused—and, she could see, completely disillusioned.

She guessed if anyone here had a right to be, he did.

A sparrow landed in a nearby puddle and made a production out of taking a bath. The rain had finally let up, and the sun beat down on the three of them as they stood in a silent triangle.

Addie lifted her hand, rubbing her forehead. She knew that further explanation was needed, just as she knew that the damage done to everyone involved was not going to be easily repaired. It felt, however, as if the burden of making that effort rested primarily on her—as had the past six years during which she’d struggled to raise a child, look after a failing parent, and keep the family business profitable.

What other choice did she have, though?

With longing, she turned her gaze to her mother’s gazebo. She hadn’t taken advantage in a long while of the steadying, perspective-building influence this special place had always provided her. She was simply too busy, with a million things to get done, and a million more to think about doing.

Oh, Mama, how I miss you!

Not for the first time, Addie wished for someone to turn to who might provide her with support. Not necessarily someone to bail her out, nor even someone to lean on. Just someone to…be there—to share the burden.

Addie slowly became aware of Deke studying her with that eagle-sharp gaze of his. Dropping her hand, she didn’t bother to hide from him every bit of her world-weariness and discouragement.

And so she was surprised when he took a step forward, his own expression no longer challenging but decisive.

“Look, Brody, I’m as much in the dark as Addie about why Jud never mentioned to her about hiring me back on the Bar G,” he said. “Maybe he’s thinkin’ Addie could use a little help herself—what with her marrying and moving and all—with keeping the Bar G going. Or maybe he just thought that bringin’ a fresh pair of eyes to the ranch might be good for it, as it nearly always is in any business. You can be sure I intend to ask Jud what his plans are, first opportunity I get, and I’d recommend you and Addie do the same.”

Tipping his hat back a notch, he took an appraising look around the ranch yard and beyond. “I’m willin’ to evaluate the operation and give my feedback for how the ranch might be run more efficiently and profitably, whether I’ll be involved in that effort or not. That’s for y’all to decide.”

His gaze came back around to them, and Addie realized she was being treated to yet another side of Deke Larrabie she’d never seen before. “I will say in Jud’s defense that whatever his plans, you can rest assured he hired the right man to do the job. In the past five years I’ve revamped operations on ranches twice the size of the Bar G, so that now they’re well into the black.”

Connor straightened in surprise. “Well, thanks, Deke. That’s sure big of you—you know, considerin’.”

“No thanks needed,” Deke said tersely. “It’s my job.”

Then he squared off in front of both Connor and her, but Addie knew Deke’s message was for her alone. “As for bein’ Jace’s daddy, you can be sure I’m as prepared to handle that responsibility, too. I know you’ve made some plans of your own along those lines, but I’m here to tell you that I expect you to revise them to include me.”

His face was a study in fierce determination, and its aspect was so undiluted Deke Larrabie that it caused a frisson of fear to sizzle up her spine, even before he said, “Or believe me, I’ll take without askin’ what’s rightfully mine.”

He gave the brim of his hat a tug down in the front, making his eyes stand out even more starkly against his tanned face. “Now if you’ll excuse me, until I hear different, I’ve got a job to do.”

Stunned speechless, Addie watched him stride with purpose to the building where the ranch office was located.

Who was that man who’d just sized up the situation and taken charge of it? Certainly not the Deke Larrabie she’d known before—except for his single-minded focus that in the past she’d experienced only as directed at her, making her feel as if she were the only other person in his world.

Yet she’d also experienced the loss of that all-exclusive focus, and it had nearly been the end of her.

She shivered suddenly, even in the claustrophobic heat. Deke had certainly sounded as if he meant business about taking responsibility for what was his. For Jace’s sake, she’d have to be very careful.

And for her own sake, as well. Because somehow Addie got the feeling that Deke Larrabie’s definition of what was his included her.