Читать книгу The Loneliest Cowboy - Pamela Macaluso - Страница 9

Two

Clint’s assessing gaze pinned her to the spot. For an instant, she feared that somehow he’d realized she was the one who’d been in his pickup that long-ago night, but she knew it was impossible. He couldn’t have figured it out, she told herself.

Slowly, his lips curved into a smile and he tipped his hat to her. “‘Evenin’, Miss Skye.”

He strolled through the restaurant and slid his long frame onto one of the stools across the counter from where she stood.

She didn’t remember telling him her first name last night. He must have asked someone about her. A spark of joy flashed in her, but was quickly squelched by the voice of fear and reason.

Look what happened last time you let yourself soak up attention from Clint! This is no time to let your ego get you in trouble again.

Returning Clint’s interest would be an absolute disaster. She could imagine him showing up at the house during the day and Dawn answering the door. What would she say? “Clint, meet your daughter, Dawn. And Dawn, honey, this is your daddy.” She shuddered inwardly. The idea was too awful to think about.

“Coffee to go, again?” she asked as evenly as she could.

“No, I’ll have it here. What kind of pie do you have tonight?”

He was here for coffee and pie? It was after midnight. Of course, he might have been at the bar. But he’d gone to the trouble of finding out her name—maybe he’d come in to see her.

Or maybe he’s taken a real liking to Rocking W coffee.

“Apple, blueberry and pecan,” she said, listing the choices for him.

Clint narrowed his eyes and shifted his bottom lip a fraction of an inch to one side. Skye’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen that expression countless times. Dawn often did the same thing when trying to make up her mind.

Oh, please, no.

A sinking feeling swept through her, and just as it had when she’d looked at her daughter sleeping last night, the knowledge that Dawn was only half hers tugged at her heart.

As dose as she felt to Dawn, was it possible for her to truly know her daughter without knowing the man who’d set the whole process in motion? Suddenly, she felt a strong urgency to learn more about Clint, to discover other similarities between him and the child he’d helped create.

But on its heels was a stronger urgency. The need for her to be cautious in order to protect herself and her daughter.

“Is there a problem with pecan? I can make another choice.”

Skye snapped to, realizing she must have missed Clint’s first request while her mind had been elsewhere. “Pecan is fine. Is that what you’d like?”

He nodded. “Are you all right?”

Before she could answer, he continued, “That’s not really a fair question, what with your dad in the hospital, and all. How’s he doing?”

At least he attributed her rattled state to her father’s condition. Only she knew that his presence was the cause of the emotional war raging inside her.

“He’s still in a coma, but Doc Beechem says his vital signs are improving. Hopefully, they’ll be able to move him to San Antonio later this week.”

“Glad to hear it. How’s everything else going around here?”

Skye served him his coffee and moved to the end of the counter to get the pie. “All right. Reverend Bartlett asked anyone available to help out and we’ve had a rush of people come in to apply for part-time jobs.”

Had he really come in to make sure all was well with them? A phone call would have gotten him the same information.

She set the pie in front of Clint. He smiled his thanks. Still torn between drawing closer to him and keeping as far as possible, she gave him only a token smile in return. She picked up the pot of freshly brewed coffee and went to offer refills to the other customers, making her escape from Clint’s disturbing presence.

Clint took a sip of coffee and reached for his fork. Coming back to the coffee shop may have been a mistake. Instead of proving his theory that last night’s reaction to Skye had been a fluke, tonight’s visit had proved the opposite.

The minute he’d walked in and spotted her, he’d had that odd feeling again. It was a sexual feeling, only more primal. The urge to pursue Skye with some macho, me-Tarzan-you-Jane method of seduction.

He watched her. He didn’t need to hear the words to know the male customers were flirting with her. And she was flirting right back, with a sassiness that was worlds away from the standoffishness she used with him.

Maybe she was one of those women who got tonguetied around a man if she was interested in him. He’d met that kind before. They took extra patience, but were usually worth the effort.

You should be so lucky this time, pal...

Most likely there was another reason. He mulled over a number of possibilities, but the one that seemed to make the most sense was that she wanted something from him. From past experience, the two things women seemed to want from him most often were sex and money.

Skye might be trying to work up the courage to ask for a loan of a large amount of cash, something to help the Williamson family stay afloat through Lou’s illness and the medical bills that would follow.

Yeah, that had to be it, the reason she’d gotten that strange faraway look of yearning in her eyes. She’d probably been seeing a large, flashing dollar sign on his forehead.

Once she worked up the courage, he’d be getting the full force of her persuasive charms aimed in his direction. He’d play along with her, maybe even loan her the money. But everything would be on his terms, not hers.

He turned his attention to the pie, stabbing it with more force than necessary.

Skye had put off the inevitable for as long as possible, but finally she stepped behind the counter and headed toward Clint.

“Refill on coffee, Mr. Slade?”

Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers, moving it straight up her body starting from her waist. She froze like a deer caught in the glare of headlights. She’d seen that heated look in his eyes before. Not in bright fluorescent lighting, but in the pale glow from a rising moon and dim streaks from a parking-lot light.

Other memories teased her nerve endings. The taste and feel of his mouth, the sensation of his hands touching her and the exotic male textures and contours she’d discovered when she’d given in to his urging that she touch him in return. And as things had progressed, the uncontrollable way the force of his desire had sparked hers.

The fire in his eyes burned brighter. Then he blinked and that fast the flames went out. “No, thanks. I need to be getting home.”

Had he only come in for coffee and pie, after all?

He stood and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Skye tried not to let her gaze drift downward, but lost the battle. Did he still wear white briefs beneath the well-worn denim?

She felt the heat of a blush rush to her cheeks. Shifting her focus to the money in his hand, she asked, “How was your pie?”

“Great, as usual.”

She stepped to the cash register, rang up his order, made change and wished him a good evening without looking him in the eye again.

Clint had the dream again in the early hours of the next morning. This time, he got up and headed for the stables.

“How ya doin’, Zeus?” He rubbed the black stallion’s nose. “Ready for a nice, long ride?”

Clint was. After two nights with a rude awakening from his dream, he needed the healing calm he got from being on his land. He saddled up, mounted and set off into the crisp morning.

From the first time he’d ventured out alone on the Diamond S, he’d felt a deep, almost spiritual, bond with the diverse territory that made up the ranch—the acres and acres of land scarred by arroyos, the rolling hills, deep ravines and rugged rockiness of buttes and mountains. Although they looked barren from a distance, hidden away in the westernmost mountain range were lush meadows abundant with wildlife.

This land filled a need deep within him. A need he sensed other people filled for each other. He got along well enough with people. Men respected him. Women were hot for him. But there wasn’t anyone he considered a friend—someone he could really let down his guard with. Someone he could tell things to, like that bit about feeling single he’d babbled out to Skye the other night.

He must have been more tired than he’d thought, to have admitted something so personal to a complete stranger. The way his libido had reared up like a teenager’s should have tipped him off that he wasn’t in a state of absolute control.

Of course, he hadn’t been as tired last night and she’d still pushed his hormones into overdrive. At least he hadn’t dropped any more personal information.

Zeus came to a stop when they reached a fork in the trail, waiting for a signal telling him which way to go. Clint decided to take the route along Harmony Creek to reach the herd. It wasn’t a necessity that he check on them. The herd and the water were regularly monitored by plane or helicopter. In fact, much of the daily work on the ranch was done with the latest modern trappings, but when it came time for the spring and fall roundups the brunt of the workload fell on the cowboys and their horses.

There was something comforting in the knowledge they were following age-old traditions his great-grandfather had started.

He wondered about future generations of Slades. How would ranching be for them? More important, if he continued as he was, would there be future generations of Slades?

Skye woke to sunshine and the aroma of coffee. The first thing she saw was Dawn setting a ceramic mug on the nightstand. Skye scooted into a sitting position and caught her daughter as she bounced onto the side of the bed.

“Thanks, sweetie. Is Auntie Anna up?”

“Auntie Anna and Uncle Richard left for work already. Uncle Chuck made the coffee and carried it up the stairs for me. But I got to give it to you mineself!”

After another hug and thank-you for Dawn, Skye flew off the bed and across the room into the arms of the tall, handsome blond man standing patiently in the doorway. He had a deeper tan than she’d ever seen him with, but otherwise looked much the same...older, but the same.

Sister and brother said their hellos and commented on the changes six years had made.

“So, sis, both the black sheep have returned.”

Her sister Heather had told her how several years after Skye had left, their brother, Chuck, had taken off to join the rodeo circuit.

“When did you get here?” Skye asked.

“About an hour ago.” He gave her another heartfelt hug. “They tracked me through the Rodeo Cowboy’s Association, but how did they manage to find you?”

“I have a friend who drives a rig,” she told him. Gracie, the same friend who had given her a lift out of town when she’d left Harmony Ridge. “The truckers were talking about Dad’s heart attack on the CB. I called to get an update and Beau suggested I come home.”

Chuck’s smile faded and his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “So, how is the old man?”

“He’s doing better. Mom’s been the only one allowed to see him, so far.”

“When the time does come for us to visit, I’ll go with you.”

“I’d like that.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m a little nervous.”

“You and me both.” He hugged her tightly to him and patted her back. “We’ll get through it together.”

“Safety in numbers?”

“Hey, it’s not like he can ground us, dock our allowances or make us peel potatoes.”

“Mommy.” Dawn tugged on Skye’s nightgown. “Why’s Granpa going to ground you and Uncle Chuck? Did you do something bad?”

Skye fought the urge to chuckle, then the urge to cry. Dawn’s questions were so simple, so direct—Skye remembered when she’d looked at life that way, too. Before adult choices and emotions had complicated things.

Chuck reached down and tweaked Dawn’s nose. “Your grandpa wanted me to stay in Harmony Ridge and work for him and I wanted to be in the rodeo.”

“What about you, Mommy?”

Skye felt her heart in the pit of her stomach. She’d always answered Dawn’s questions honestly but limited the details to keep things appropriate to her age. No way could she tell her little girl how the falling-out with her father had been because Skye had refused to divulge the name of her baby’s father. Lou Williamson would have forced Clint to marry her, engaged to someone else or not.

It would have been a classic shotgun wedding. What sort of start was that for a marriage? Especially when she knew the groom was madly in love with another woman. She couldn’t have faced it if each time they made love, he’d called out Teresa’s name. Once had been bad enough.

“Grandpa and I had a disagreement,” she said succinctly.

Dawn looked intently from one to the other of them. “I don’t know if I want to meet Granpa.”

“Remember what we talked about? How you might not get to see Grandpa if he’s too sick? So let’s not worry about it right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Who’s ready for breakfast?” Chuck asked.

After breakfast, Dawn asked to watch the video of Sleeping Beauty. Skye expected Chuck would watch it with her, but he followed her into the kitchen. With a glance to the living room, he swung the kitchen door closed. The serious look on his face worried her.

“Is something wrong, Chuck?”

“No, I just don’t want Dawn to overhear our conversation.” He came to stand several steps from her. “Clint Slade is Dawn’s daddy, isn’t he?”

Chuck’s question made Skye’s stomach churn. “What makes you say that?”

“Her hair and eyes.”

Skye laughed, trying to make light of the subject, while the knot in her stomach tightened even more. “Clint’s not the only man in these parts with dark hair and brown eyes. Take into account the number of truck drivers who pass through and the odds decrease that much more.”

“It’s not just the coloring. After you ran away, Heather mentioned something about you having a crush on him.”

If Heather knew about her crush on Clint, and Chuck had noticed the similarities between Dawn and the little girl’s father, did the rest of the family know? Were they all speculating behind her back?

“Chuck, you’re my brother, I love you, but this isn’t any of your business.”

“Is he giving you enough?”

“Enough?”

“Child support.”

“Well...”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed, the muscles along his jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists. “Does he need some encouragement to pay his fair share? ’Cause I’ll give it to him. Just say the word.”

Skye crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her elbows. “It’s not as cut-and-dried as you make it sound.”

“Why? Did he give you a lump sum up front and expect you to make it last for eighteen years?” Chuck started to get a wild look in his eyes. “Is it Clint, Skye? Tell me or I’ll light into him until he owns up to it.”

“That’s not going to accomplish anything.”

“Don’t go giving me one of your little peacemaker talks!”

“It’s not a peacemaker talk. It won’t accomplish anything because Clint doesn’t know about Dawn.”

Chuck looked stunned, just short of horrified. “Doesn’t know what about Dawn?”

“He doesn’t know she exists.”

Now he did look horrified. “You never told him you were pregnant?”

“By the time I found out, he was engaged to Teresa Donnelly.”

Chuck swore beneath his breath. “So, he was out sowing the last of his wild oats and you ended up paying the price?”

Skye shrugged. Clint hadn’t been deliberately sowing wild oats, but the description fit enough that she let it ride.

“You should have told him.”

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin a notch. “Excuse me?”

“He had a right to know. He’s her father, for crying out loud.”

“I know guys have this whole male-stick-together thing going, but I’m your sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Chuck planted his hands on his hips. “I’m not taking sides. I’m just saying a guy has the right to know when he’s about to become a father.”

“The talk shows are full of guests with cries for father’s rights, but check around. Do a little impromptu poll at the Rocking W Bar tonight. You’ll find a lot of men would rather not be bothered with news of an unplanned pregnancy.”

“I sure as hell would want to know.”

“I said a lot of men wouldn’t want to know. I didn’t say all men.”

“Okay, so what gave you the right to make the choice for Clint?”

The fact that Clint didn’t know he’d made love to her—that he thought he’d been making love to Teresa.

“I didn’t sit down and consciously make the choice for him. I just did what I thought was best for me and my baby.”

He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out with a rush. “What’s done is done. The problem now is deciding when and how to tell him.”

Skye couldn’t believe her ears. “Tell him? I’m not going to tell him.”

“He has the right to know.”

“That’s debatable.”

“What about Dawn’s right to know her father and her paternal heritage?”

Pain gripped her middle, the same stab she got every time Dawn mentioned “her daddy.” Dawn knew her father was alive and a cowboy on a Texas spread. That information had kept her happy till now, but Skye knew someday she would ask for more. She hadn’t decided what she would do when that day came.

“Obviously we’re not going to agree on this,” she said. “Let’s just drop it, okay?” She gathered a handful of plates, glasses and silverware from the table and carried them to the sink.

“Someday Dawn’s going to want to know more about her father,” Chuck said. “What will you do then?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?”

“Skye, I want to help.”

“The subject is closed!”

They didn’t talk anymore about it, but the question of Clint’s right to know about Dawn haunted Skye the rest of the day.

Almost as though her thought waves had reached out, lassoed and reeled him in, Clint was waiting for her when she went to work that night.

As she crossed the dark parking lot, the silhouette of a man separated from the shadows of the building and moved purposefully toward her. She recognized Clint’s walk before he was close enough for her to recognize his features.

She came to a stop several yards from him.

“Hello, Skye.”

“Clint.” He had an unreadable look on his face. Surely Chuck wouldn’t have gone to Clint behind her back and told him about Dawn. “A-are you here for coffee and pie again?”

Clint continued walking until the distance between them had shrunk to feet. “No, I stopped by to have a few words with you.”

Chuck had told him! Now what?

“How’s your father doing?”

“As well as can be expected.” If he knew about Dawn, he was playing mind games with her. On the other hand, maybe Chuck hadn’t spilled the beans.

Clint ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve been wondering why we never met until a few days ago.”

“We went to the same schools and the same church,” she said. “I knew who you were.”

“How did I miss you?” He took a step closer, reaching out to caress her cheek. “Are you working tonight?”

“Yes. Thanks for reminding me.” She started to step past him.

Clint stretched an arm across her path, curving it around her waist when her momentum moved her against it. “Whoa, honey, not so fast.”

Skye froze, torn between the urge to run away from him and the urge to curl the rest of the way into his arms. She remembered well...too well...the feel of being enclosed in his warm, powerful embrace. “I...I’m due at work.”

“How ’bout if I buy you a cup of coffee when you get off? Or we could go for a drive if you need some time away from the house.”

“No, thanks. I’m training some of the new employees tonight, won’t be getting off until late.”

Skye slowly backed away from him until she came up against cold metal. From the height of the bumper, she assumed it was someone’s pickup or four-by-four. Clint moved in so close, their bodies were almost touching.

He removed his Stetson, setting it on the hood, then placed his hands on either side of her. “Can I see you tomorrow then?”

“I have things to do.”

Like take care of our daughter for starters, she thought.

“So do I, but I’ll make time. I want us to spend time together, get to know each other.”

Skye wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he have said these words to her six years ago? Then she would have wanted to shout for joy. Now she wanted to shout out her frustration.

“I’m not going to be here that long.”

“We’re living in the age of phones and cars, darlin’. Your leaving doesn’t mean we can’t stay in touch or see each other again.”

Raising one hand, he threaded his fingers through her hair, resting his warm palm against her cheek. With his thumb he tilted her chin up. He started to lower his head toward her.

“Hold on. What are you up to?”

Clint straightened. “I’m doing something I’ve wanted to do from the moment I set eyes on you.”

Skye had to clear her throat to get her voice to work. “And what is that?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”