Читать книгу Shotgun Vows - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 10

The next morning, Dawson leaned against the corral fence and watched Mattie walk toward him, up the slight hill, from the house. She was surrounded by four kids—a girl and three boys. He wondered what the sassy Aussie would say when he told her Ethan wouldn’t be joining them. After clearing it with Lily Fortune, he had volunteered his services so that the young cowboy could better use his time on another chore. Oddly enough, he had derived great satisfaction from taking Ethan out of the equation, but wasn’t exactly sure why.

Ditto on the fact that he was anticipating Mattie’s explosive reaction to the news. That’s what a woman did when her plans didn’t pan out. He’d learned that the hard way. He’d been raised by a mother who’d been dumped for a younger woman, so bad news had been abundant. His mother had become increasingly depressed and bitter—a natural reaction when the man she loved had married an adolescent.

It made him determined not to use any woman and then throw her away. It had also taught him skills to deal with an unhappy female. So he had no qualms about giving Mattie the bad news about Ethan. But before he fired the first salvo for World War III, he enjoyed the sway of her hips and her graceful long-legged stride. He noticed the sparkle in her gray eyes and heard her merry laughter after she bent her head and listened to one of the boys. Dawson remembered Griff saying that she’d never met a stranger. He could see the evidence for himself. She’d just met these kids, and she had them eating out of her hand.

He knew that wouldn’t be happening if she didn’t like kids. And he recalled the other thing Griff had warned him about: she wanted to have a baby. Soon. No matter how ticked she was that he’d canceled out Ethan, it couldn’t be as bad as her brother’s reaction if she ran away with the wet-behind-the-ears cowboy.

Mattie spotted him and stumbled slightly. Then the group continued on until she and her cowboy wannabes stood in a semicircle around him. The kids gave him odd looks, as if they’d been warned about him. She gave him an appraising glance. Saucy. The word described perfectly the way she was eyeing him. And it made him feel like he was a prize quarter horse ready to be put to stud.

Two could play that game. “Something wrong, your ladyship?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

“You tell me. Who are you and what have you done with Dawson Prescott?”

He looked down at his scuffed brown boots, worn jeans, and long-sleeved, white cotton shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“For starters, you’re not wearing your uniform. Where’s the white dress shirt, pin-striped suit, red power tie, and loafers with tassels?”

“First of all, I draw the line at loafers with a tassel. Too froufrou. As for the rest, it’s hanging in the closet at home in Kingston Estates.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “The large planned community in San Antonio for the fabulously wealthy.”

“You make it sound like a communicable disease.”

“If only it were,” she sighed.

He glanced down at his boots. “I repeat, is there something wrong?”

“You just look different this way.”

“Different good? Or different bad?”

“Different as in less like a stuffed shirt.”

“Well, thank you, I think, your ladyship,” he said dryly.

She thought he was a stuffed shirt? If he wasn’t on assignment for Griff Fortune, he’d show her a thing or two about stuffed shirts. But the fact was that he was here to fend off the other guys, not to teach her anything about men.

She looked around. “I wonder where Ethan is. It’s almost ten. I did tell him nine-thirty.”

“Actually you told him around nine-thirty. I talked to the foreman. He said he needed him for a job. Since I’m here to assist you with your charges, it didn’t seem necessary to replace him.” He glanced at the kids. The boys were eyeing him as if he had just torched their baseball card collection, and the little girl openly stared at him as if he walked on water. “I’m your only backup.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “I was looking forward to spending some time with him.”

He felt only a slight twinge of guilt for his part in producing her disappointed look. At least, he thought it was guilt. It couldn’t be jealousy. He wasn’t interested in Mattie that way. Even if she were his type, she was too young. All he cared about was fulfilling his promise to her brother and getting himself off baby-sitting detail. If she found the cowboy type she was looking for, it wouldn’t be on his watch.

But her reaction surprised him. Disappointment was a far cry from the explosion he’d expected. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

And it didn’t much matter. If they got this show on the road pronto, maybe he could get in a couple of hours at the office later.

“So where do we start?” he asked.

“How about introductions.” She looked around at the kids and her gaze rested on the small redheaded girl with cornflower-blue eyes. “Ladies first. Katie Mansfield, meet Dawson Prescott.”

He held his hand out and the girl, who looked about eleven years old, put hers into his palm, squeezing with a surprising strength. “Miss Mansfield, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And this motley macho male crew are Nate Howe, Juan Castaneda, and Kevin Dolan.” She pointed to a tall, skinny blonde, then a husky dark-haired, black-eyed boy and a chubby guy with unruly brown hair. The boys appeared to be about the same age as Katie.

One by one, they shook hands with Dawson. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

“Now we need to find you just the right mounts,” Mattie said. “C’mon, mates.”

She lead the way toward the barn, and Dawson’s gaze was pulled to the feminine grace of her walk. The hem of her plaid shirt hitched up a notch, and he got a better look at her curvy rear end. He couldn’t help wondering if she had a small waist and shapely hips to go with those dynamite legs. All the Matilda images he’d been fighting against—legs wrapped around his waist, twisted sheets and bodies entwined—flooded his consciousness with a vengeance.

All those thoughts were at odds with her fresh-scrubbed face and the long blond braid hanging down her back. She was just a kid. And he was her chaperone—not her Casanova. He was abruptly drawn back to the present by a persistent tugging.

“Don’t you just love her accent?” Katie asked Dawson. She took his hand and tugged him forward.

“I do,” he answered. Oddly enough, he meant it.

Inside the barn, Mattie walked down the hay-strewn aisle between stalls. She looked from side to side, tapping her lips thoughtfully. Stopping beside one, she said, “Juan, this one is for you. His name is Buck.” She continued on until she came to a black, beige, and white pinto. “Katie, this is Buttercup. She has a disposition as sweet as yours.”

Dawson watched her pick out two more mounts for Kevin and Nate. Then she grabbed a bridle, handed it to him, and said, “Mr. Prescott is going to demonstrate bridling a horse.”

She tapped her lip again. “He’ll show you on Buttercup. She’s very patient, but—” she gave the kids a serious look “—you must be very gentle with the animals. Treat them the way you would like to be treated. You don’t like it if someone punches or slaps you. Right?”

Kevin nodded. “Juan and Nate do that to each other all the time when we line up at school.”

Mattie glanced at the two who looked guilty. “But you’re not going to do that now. Are you, guys?”

“No,” they said in unison.

She looked at him. “Mr. Prescott, you’re on.”

“Dawson.” He looked at the kids. “It’s all right to call me by my first name.”

Mattie met his gaze. “He thinks Mr. Prescott makes him sound old,” she said conspiratorially to the kids.

“He is old,” Nate said.

“Do you think so?” she said, eyeing Dawson critically. “I guess you just have to get to know him. He doesn’t look so ancient to me.”

Dawson gritted his teeth. He had no problem being gentle with Buttercup, but there was a certain smart-mouthed female who could use a dressing-down. He wasn’t ancient. But the part of him that disconnected from his wounded ego acknowledged that the kid was right. Compared to Mattie, he was old.

He congratulated himself on controlling his temper, while Mattie led the way as they walked back to the multicolored Buttercup’s stall. When they stopped in front of the mare, she looked at the group with sweet, gentle brown eyes. Dawson hated to admit it, but Mattie was right to pick this animal to demonstrate on. Not only that, but being familiar with all the horses in the barn, he knew each one she’d chosen was sweet-natured and pliable. He realized why Lily Fortune had asked her to supervise the schoolkids. Mattie knew her stuff. And she was as good with the kids as she was with horses.

“Okay, listen up, you guys—and ladies,” he added. He didn’t miss Katie’s pleased smile. Too bad his charm didn’t work to tame a certain impertinent Australian miss. “I’m going to show you how this is done, but before you try it, there’s something you have to do. Anyone have a clue what it is?”

“Get a ladder for Katie?” Juan said to a round of laughter from his friends.

“No.” Dawson looked at each one in turn, but they all shrugged and shook their heads. He met Mattie’s gaze, and the sparkle in her eyes told him she knew what he had in mind. “Do you want to tell them?” he asked her.

She nodded. “You must get to know the animal before you try to do anything. These horses are used to a lot of different people riding them, and they’re okay with that. But not all animals are that way.”

“How do we get to know them?” Nate asked Dawson.

“Have you ever heard the expression that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” Four pairs of eyes looked back at him blankly. Maybe he was more ancient than he’d thought. When he looked into the fifth pair of eyes, he saw laughter. The merriment made Mattie’s eyes very beautiful. The look made him very warm.

“What Dawson means is that you can make friends with the animals by feeding them, gently touching them and talking quietly to them. They respond best to gentle kindness, not fear and intimidation. After he shows you how to bridle Buttercup, I’ll show you where the carrots are kept for feeding the horses. But before we do that, I’ll show you how it’s done so that you don’t get your fingers nipped.” She smiled sweetly at Dawson. “Please continue, professor.”

Oh, good, he thought. Not teacher, but professor. She just had to make him feel that much older. He spread the leather strips so that they could see the configuration and how it would fit around the horse’s face.

“This metal part, called a bit, goes in the horse’s mouth. If you haven’t made friends with the horse, no way will the animal open up willingly. Consequently, no way will you get it in. Observe.” He patted the horse’s neck and crooned to her. Then he put the bit in front of her, and she opened her mouth. He used his palm to push it until she allowed it to settle behind her teeth. “Voilà,” he said.

Kevin scratched his head, which didn’t do his unruly brown hair any favor. “What does walla mean?”

“It means he did it easy as pie,” Mattie explained. “Did you notice the way Dawson pushed the bit in with his palm? He kept his fingers out of the way. Horses can get confused and bite. They don’t mean to hurt you, but it can happen if you’re not careful.”

“You mean accidentally?” Katie asked.

“Exactly,” Mattie answered, as if the little girl were a star pupil. She moved to the other side of the horse and glanced at Dawson. He thought there was approval in her eyes. Obviously she was surprised that he’d passed her bridle test. He knew that’s why she’d asked him to show the kids how it was done. He was glad he’d favorably surprised her.

Mattie patted Buttercup’s neck. “For safety purposes, when you give them carrots, keep your palm flat and your fingers out of the way. Buttercup would feel awful if she hurt you.”

“How do you know that?” Juan asked.

“I can see it in her eyes.” She hugged the horse for a few seconds. “All right. Dawson, you take Katie and Juan. I’ll take Kevin and Nate, and we’ll get the horses bridled and saddled. Meet you in the corral.”

“Right,” he said.

About twenty minutes later, they were gathered in the picket-fenced enclosure. All four kids were mounted on their horses.

“Giddyap, horse,” Kevin said, moving his body in a forward motion.

“Hold on, buckaroo. I need to adjust your stirrups.” Mattie smiled up at the young boy sitting on the horse. “You need to stick your feet in there. If they flap around like wet noodles, it could scare the horse. If the horse is scared, she might run away with you. If she runs away with you, you’ll be scared. If you’re scared, I’m scared. If—”

“Okay, Mattie,” Kevin grinned. “I get it. I’ll hold my horse while you fix the stirrups.”

“Good choice. All of you hold your horses until Dawson and I make sure the stirrups are adjusted to fit you. Okay?”

“No worries,” they said together.

She laughed, and Dawson grinned, too, watching her. She was wonderful with them. Patient and reasonable. The kids responded in kind. Why was she so unreasonable when it came to him?

When everyone was secure, Dawson saddled a horse for himself and one for Mattie. He led them into the corral, where she watched and instructed as the four rode slowly around the perimeter. She and Dawson mounted up.

“All right, kids. I think you’re ready. We’re going to see how you do out in the open. This is going to be an adventure.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Dawson muttered, watching her trim back as he followed her out of the corral.

“Jillian, I can’t thank you enough for coming with me.”

“It’s my pleasure to show you the sights of San Antonio.” Jillian tucked a strand of straight blond hair behind her ear.

Mattie smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law across the table. It was hard to believe just that morning she’d been teaching kids to ride in the wide-open spaces of Texas. And now, eight hours later, she was taking in the newest “in club” in San Antonio. She turned her head from side to side, trying to see everything at once.

She noticed the sawdust-covered floor, saloon-style bar, and old-fashioned Western lanterns sitting on the round tables. Anticipation hummed through her. The most impressive sight was the multitude of men bellied up to the bar, boots hooked on the stools.

“So this is the famous Watering Hole, bar and nightspot extraordinaire,” she said.

“This is it.” Jillian shifted uncomfortably on the wooden, barrel-backed chair. “This is where single women come to meet single men—cowboys hang out here in…droves, so to speak.”

“I already noticed the cowboys. It’s so exciting. And about time, thanks to my brothers. I feel as if I’ve missed out on so much. Maybe I can see a little big-city nightlife without my shadow hovering over me.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on Griff, Mattie. He loves you and is trying to protect you.”

“I know he means well. They all do. But there are so many of them. I thought when I came to Texas, I would have the freedom of a single woman. But every time I turn around, I trip over one of the Fortune boys. Why can’t they just let me live my life?”

“Maybe if I’d had a big brother watching over me, I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes.” Jillian sighed, a big, gusty, sad sound.

Mattie felt guilty and ungrateful for complaining. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she would do if anything happened to one of her brothers. Impulsively, she reached across the table and squeezed the other woman’s hand. She envied Jillian Hart Tanner’s petite, pretty, blond good looks. Next to her, Mattie felt like a galumphing elephant. But she genuinely liked Jillian, and envied her happiness and the baby that would soon arrive for her and Brody.

“Things will be fine for you, Jillian. God knows why you want him—” she grinned “—but you’ve got my brother now. Soon you’ll be married, and he’ll take good care of you and the baby.” Her gaze dropped to the other woman’s gently rounded abdomen, and a sigh escaped. “I envy you so. I’d like to have children. If only I could find someone to care about me the way Brody does you.”

“I’ve loved him for so many years.” Jillian’s blue-green eyes always sparkled, but never more than when she mentioned her man. “I truly hope you find someone and are as happy as I am.”

“Me, too.” She glanced around the room again, checking out the men. She did a double take as she saw a man who looked an awful lot like her brother crossing the room. The man was wearing Brody’s frown. Behind him was none other than Dawson Prescott’s twin. At least, she hoped it was. She couldn’t be so unlucky that the two of them would show up here.

“I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “How could they have found me here?”

Jillian looked uneasy. “I hope you don’t mind. When I went to the ladies’ room—the place I spend so much time in these days,” she said ruefully, “I called Brody. The corporate office is practically around the corner. I missed him and just wanted to say hello. He was in a meeting with Dawson. I told him where we were and asked him to meet us if he could.”

“Imagine that.” Mattie wondered which of the gods she had offended. Why was she being punished?

“I thought they would be at the office much longer,” Jillian continued. “He must have dropped everything. For me.” She smiled, the expression of a woman in love. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

The two men stopped at their table and looked down. Fresh from the office, they were wearing slacks and dress shirts. They stood out like Rockettes with broken legs. Worse, she was disturbed that Dawson looked as good, if not better, than he had just that morning when she’d seen him in jeans and boots. She was afraid even a burlap bag wouldn’t hide his muscular frame and the masculinity that made her senses sit up and take notice.

Mattie squirmed under her brother’s stare, not so much because she knew he was angry, but because Dawson was there to witness the chewing out she knew was coming. “Hi, bro,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know, Matilda.”

She winced, then glanced at Dawson and didn’t miss the expression on his face. He was grinning. Not with his mouth, but she could see it in his eyes. On the inside, he was smiling from ear to ear. Maybe she didn’t hate her name as much as the fact that when someone called her Matilda she was usually in trouble. Why, oh, why did Dawson have to be here? He already treated her as if she were twelve years old. Now he was witness to her brother treating her like a twelve-year-old delinquent.

She looked up—way up—and met Brody’s gray-eyed gaze. That black hair of his and the stern look on his handsome face might intimidate some people. But not her. Caught she might be, but cornered—never.

She lifted her chin. “I’m checking out San Antonio nightlife, Brody. Your fiancée very kindly agreed to accompany me, since she knows the area.”

Brody smiled at Jillian, and a person would have to be blind not to see all the love in his expression. But when he glanced her way again, Mattie squirmed. The grim look was back.

“She’s pregnant, Mattie,” he said. “What in the world possessed you to drag her to a place like this?”

Jillian put her hand on his arm. “She didn’t drag me, Brody. She couldn’t. I’m the size of a beached whale—it would take a crane to move me anywhere these days. Don’t be so hard on her.” Jillian linked her fingers with his. “There’s nothing wrong with this place. Besides, I’m pregnant, not sick. Being here won’t hurt me.” She leaned forward and said, “Hi, Dawson.”

He smiled. “Hi, yourself. How are you?”

“Fine, now that you guys are here. I was missing Brody a bunch.”

“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” he asked.

When he met her gaze, Mattie noticed that same glint in his eyes, the one that pegged her as an amusing child. How she would love to wipe that look off his face and show him a thing or two about the woman she was.

But now wasn’t the time. And since he was here, Mattie decided, he might as well make himself useful. “I’d like a glass of wine,” she said.

“Sparkling water for me,” Jill chimed in.

Brody glared at Mattie. “Make it two waters,” he said to Dawson.

“Sweetheart,” Jillian said to him, “why don’t you go along with Dawson and help him carry the drinks?”

He bent over to kiss her cheek. “Whatever you say.”

When the two men were gone, Mattie didn’t miss the pitying look Jillian sent her way. “I’m sorry, Mattie,” she said. “I wouldn’t have called him if I’d known he would act that way.”

“Don’t worry about it. At least you’re with the man you love and he makes you happy. It’s just my bad luck that he acts like a mother hen.” What bothered her more was Dawson’s presence. He would see her big brother treating her like a kid when she was doing her best to show him she was a grown woman.

Jillian glanced over to the bar where the two men were talking while waiting for the drink order. “Your brother’s intentions are good, Mattie.”

“Maybe. But you know what they say about the road to hell.” Dejectedly, Mattie rested her chin in her hand.

“Just you leave him to me when they come back.”

Mattie watched several cowboys move around on a small dais in the corner of the room. Three picked up a couple of guitars and a fiddle, while one sat at a keyboard and another tested the microphone. Then they began to play a slow, country and western song. The words were sad, about love gone bad. Mattie had only one experience with love. Adolescent love—definitely gone bad. But she was willing to give romance another try. How else was she going to find her soul mate and have the family she wanted so badly?

She glanced around the room, attempting to catch the eye of one of the unattached men present. Trying to look available and pleasant, she plastered a smile on her face. No one gave her a second look.

Her small window of opportunity slammed shut when Brody and Dawson returned with the drinks. Her brother sat next to Jillian and possessively draped his arm across her shoulders. She snuggled into him with a contented sigh. Dawson was forced to take the empty chair at the table beside her, and content wasn’t exactly the word Mattie would use to describe his body language. In fact, he angled all of his very attractive muscles as far away from her as he could get and still remain in the same county.

But Mattie didn’t miss the glances he received from other women in the room. And the realization gave her the strangest feeling, like the weight of a stone sitting on her chest.

“Brody?” Jillian smiled sweetly.

“Hmm?”

“Would you dance with me?”

He gave her rounded belly a skeptical look. “Is it all right? Not too much exertion?”

“I had more exertion last night,” she said, smiling seductively at him. He grinned—a look of supreme male satisfaction that Mattie didn’t quite understand.

“Okay, lady. Let’s do it.” He held out his hand, and Jillian put her small one in his palm and let him help her to her feet.

They walked to the dance floor without a backward glance—as if they were the only two people in the world. Mattie watched Brody take Jillian in his arms, and she went willingly, resting her head against his chest. He brushed his cheek across her hair and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand as they swayed to the music.

Mattie envied them. Would she ever have eyes for just one man and he for her? Would any man ever hold her as if she were the most precious person in his world? As if his life would be meaningless without her? She glanced around the room at all the men who kept to themselves. Not any time soon, she thought ruefully.

“You know Brody means well.” Dawson met her gaze.

“Jillian said the same thing to me.”

“She’s right.” He took a sip of his beer. “He cares about you.”

“She said that, too. And that if she’d had brothers to watch out for her maybe she wouldn’t have made mistakes in her life.”

“She could be right.” Dawson glanced at the couple on the dance floor.

“On the other hand, maybe those mistakes made her appreciate a good thing when she found it. How will I know unless I get a chance to live?” Mattie asked, not really expecting Dawson to answer.

“Patience, Mattie. He’ll be married soon. When the baby arrives, he won’t have time to keep track of you. And he’ll be too tired. I understand babies have this annoying habit of eating every two or three hours, day and night.”

“Annoying?” She studied him. “Don’t you like kids? After the way you handled them this morning, you could have fooled me.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”

“No way.” But she couldn’t help grinning back at him. “You just looked like you were having the time of your life, and the kids took to you like ducks to water. I figured you would want half a dozen.”

He shook his head. “It scares the hell out of me. I’m beginning to think stability is a myth. And I wouldn’t bring a baby boy into this world without a guarantee of that.”

She took a sip from her glass, secretly grateful that it was water. “When my little girl comes into this world, I will welcome her with open arms. Two o’clock feedings and all.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Little girl?”

“If you can have a boy, why can’t I have a girl?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Especially since the way you handled those schoolkids was damn close to miraculous. I was bowled over at how you sized up each one and picked just the right horse. The whole thing went a lot more smoothly than I would have guessed. Thanks to your expertise.”

“Did you just pay me a compliment?” she asked, joking because she didn’t know how else to act.

“No way,” he said, but the amusement in his eyes belied the words.

His praise made her glow from head to toe. Inside and out. She didn’t know nice words from a man could make her feel this way. If only it had been something about how desirable she was, instead of her ability with horses. Then she would see his indifference and raise him a flirtation or two.

“What I did isn’t a miracle,” she said. “I’ve always liked children. And I haven’t made a secret of the fact that I would like to have one. Soon.”

He leveled an appraising glance around the room, then met her gaze. “First you have to grow up, your ladyship.”