The Rodeo Man's Daughter

“Tess…” Roselynn frowned.

“What’s wrong, Mom? Headache?”

“No…nothing. I’ll go get some more napkins from the pantry.”

In the dining room again, Tess saw her mother had been right. Caleb and Ellamae had their heads closer together than two sticky buns in a breadbasket.

She sailed across the room and plunked the tray on the table between them. Caleb backed off just quickly enough to keep from getting hit in the head.

A head that was as hard as that bull’s he’d been talking about earlier. She ought to know.

“Hot chocolate!” Nate yelled.

The girls dropped their cards and clustered around the smaller table. Tess kept busy pouring drinks and passing out not-quite-filled mugs. No sense inviting spills. Upholstery and rug cleaning were expensive.

She looked through the doorway of the room to the grandfather clock in the hall. Almost nine. The girls would be up for hours yet, if they ever did get to bed.

She’d had to laugh. All those empty guest rooms upstairs, and they had chosen to sleep on the couches and floor in the living room.

“It’s getting late,” she told them. “Time to go off to the other room, now.” At least that put them closer to their sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Come on in with us, Caleb,” Nate said.

Tess could have won money on that being her daughter’s next step. “No, Caleb’s going to be leaving.” Again, that word caught at her, made her want to sigh. Her voice shook just a bit as she added, “You girls go on.”

Up went the stubborn jaw. Another step in her daughter’s attempt to get her own way.

“But Mo-om,” Nate wailed. So predictable. “He’s drinking his hot chocolate, too.”

“He can drink it here.”

“Why can’t he come with us?” Nate’s bottom lip jutted out.

Tess gripped the edges of the tray. “Anastasia Lynn LaSalle,” she said evenly.

Lissa poked Nate in the ribs. “C’mon, Nate. When it’s all your names, you know you’re in big trouble.”

Before Nate could say another word that would get her in deeper, before Tess could add something she might regret, Caleb spoke up.

“You run off, now, like your mama says. I’ll see you girls in the morning.”

Tess turned to him. Bad enough her own daughter was trying to make the rules around here. She didn’t need him attempting to call the shots, too. She didn’t need him at all.

“I don’t think so, Caleb,” she said, her chin as high as Nate’s had been. “From now on, if we need to discuss any business at all, we’ll meet at the office.”

He smiled, took a sip of his chocolate, licked whipped cream from his top lip.

Tess set her jaw and glared at him.

“Fine by me,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. She’d never known him to give in so easily.

“Business. Office. Got it.” He smiled again and set the mug on his table. “But I will see the girls tomorrow morning, anyhow. At breakfast.”

“What?”

He swept his arm out, gesturing at the space around them. “This is a bed-and-breakfast. I assume your mama serves breakfast to her guests. As I’ve just decided to take a room here for the rest of my stay in town, I reckon that qualifies me for the meals.”

The girls broke into cheers loud enough to make the mugs on the tray rattle.

Or maybe that came from Tess’s suddenly shaking hands. She clutched the tray, wishing she could hold it against her like a shield. She needed some kind of armor against Caleb—because obviously no one else in the room planned to help her.

The girls were too occupied in high-fiving Caleb and each other. Aunt El was too busy smirking over the turn of events she’d probably brought about herself. And her mother…

Her mother was standing there smiling quietly, eyes aglow at the idea of a paying guest.

Tess swallowed a sigh verging on a sob of despair.

Much as she wanted to kick Caleb out of their home, she knew full well her mom couldn’t afford to turn away any source of income. And as she gazed into his shining green eyes, she realized he knew it, too.

Caleb had himself a room at the bed-and-breakfast for as long as he wanted it.

And Tess had hold of a time bomb with an ever-shortening fuse.

Chapter Five

As Tess crossed the downstairs entryway, the grandfather clock in the corner chimed.

Two in the morning.

Fighting back a yawn, she climbed the stairs to the second floor again. She’d known not to expect the girls to settle down any time soon, but her patience had deserted her. She’d decided a little friendly caution to the group couldn’t hurt.