The Rodeo Man's Daughter

That was all she needed tonight.

After a burst of giggles and goodbyes to Caleb, the group ran toward the door.

One voice rose above the laughter. “’Bye, Mom. See ya later.” The door slammed in her wake.

Tess sank back onto the booth’s bench seat.

“Sleepover?” he asked.

“They’re celebrating school letting out last week.” She exhaled heavily. With the way Nate had behaved lately, she’d skated very close to not having this party. And if things didn’t improve, it could turn into a very long summer.

The thought that Caleb might be there for a good part of it left her choking on her indrawn breath of dismay. She swore she’d do whatever it took to have him on his way as soon as possible. Focusing on him again, she realized she’d missed the beginning of his response.

“—can’t be a bad bunch at all,” he was saying, “if they’re willing to do chores that cheerfully. And your daughter sure takes after you.”

The blood seemed to rush from her head, making her dizzy. There were many subjects she never, ever wanted to discuss with Caleb Cantrell. On a scale of zero to ten, the topic of her daughter ranked at three hundred.

“Yes,” she said shortly. She shoved one shaking hand through her hair. With the other, she picked up her canvas bag as she rose from the bench. “Well, I’ve got your information. Time for me to go and start working on it.”

She turned away and waved a brief goodbye to Dori. The older woman stood with her elbows resting on the counter at the back of the room, taking a much-needed break.

“You’ll come see us again soon?” Dori asked, directing the question to Tess but then quickly looking past her toward Caleb.

Was no female over the age of five immune to the man’s charms?

“I’m sure I will,” Tess said firmly.

“Be a real pleasure, Dori,” he drawled. “For both of us.”

Tess shivered and grabbed the door handle. She didn’t want to share any kind of pleasure with him. Not now or in the future. And she refused even to think about their past.

Once outside, she stopped on the sidewalk near his pickup truck. He had driven them the couple of blocks to the Double S, and the close confines of the truck’s cab had nearly left her hyperventilating. The two blocks had stretched to forty miles.

No way did she want to share that vehicle with him again, either.

“So,” he said, resting against the fender, just as he’d been standing when she had first seen him that morning. “How old is she?”

“Dori?” She pretended to misunderstand, knowing full well what he meant. “I’m not sure. Around my mother’s age, I would guess. Early sixties.”

The deception hurt her. Badly. Because at her response, he grinned, making his green eyes blaze even in the shadow beneath his Stetson’s brim. “I meant that girl of yours.”

“Oh. She’s nine.”

“Nice-looking kid. What’s her name?”

“N-Nate.” Where was he going with this conversation? And why wasn’t she going far, far away in another direction?

“Nate?” He sounded amused. “A real handful.”

She frowned. He’d seen her daughter for all of five minutes, most of which Nate had spent amid the group of girls fawning over him. “What makes you say that?”

“The stubborn jaw.” He reached up and touched her chin with his fingertip. “I’d have known her even if she didn’t have your hair.”

She swallowed hard and backed up a step, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. No, she would not get back in that pickup truck with him—even though it would give her a chance to sit down.

“I’ll be in touch,” she assured him. When cows give orange milk. “I’m sure it won’t take long at all. And…” she held her breath a moment, then rushed on “I’m assuming you’ve reserved a place to stay closer to Santa Fe or Albuquerque.”

His expression hardened. “I’ve got it covered,” he said, his voice rough.

At another time, she might have thought twice about his reaction. Not anymore. “Good,” she said firmly. “There’s no need for you to hang around. I have your cell phone number. And you don’t need to drive me to the office, thanks.”

As she started along the sidewalk, he fell into step beside her. Though he matched his stride to hers, he walked with the stiff gait she had seen when he’d first gotten out of the truck in front of the Double S.

He’d been hurt during a rodeo. Very seriously hurt. The townsfolk had gone into an uproar when they’d learned about it. Nate and her friends had been despondent. Tess had managed to harden her heart against the news. Had tried not to think about Caleb’s aborted career. About his injury. For the most part, she’d succeeded. Until now.

Reading about his accident was one thing. Seeing the results of it right there in front of her was something else. But she couldn’t feel any pity for Caleb. Shouldn’t feel any guilt, either.

Not after they way he had crushed her.

Keeping her gaze forward, she cleared her throat. “I—uh—know the way back on my own.”

“That’s good,” he said. “A successful real estate person like yourself ought to know her way around. In fact, I imagine you’re the perfect person to show me some of the sights in town.”

Shaky legs or not, that brought her to a solid stop. “What are you playing at, Caleb? You were born and raised here, same as I was. You know all the sights there are to see.”

“Maybe. And maybe some things have changed.”

His gaze drifted from her eyes all the way to her toes. An answering shiver rippled its way along the same path, as if he’d run his finger down her body.

“You’ve got more curves than I remember.” He grinned again.

Time to get away from him. “I have to run.” What an understatement.

She needed to get to her office, research the list of his requirements, and find some property for him as quickly as she could—and as far away from Flagman’s Folly as possible.

“Okay.” To her relief, he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ve got some business to take care of, myself. Since yours won’t take long, why don’t I pick you up later? We’ll ride around town a bit. Talk over your prospects at supper.”

The most unlikely prospect she’d ever heard.

The words rested on the tip of her tongue, ready for her to say them. But she couldn’t.

Visions floated into her mind.

Nate. Roselynn. Dana with her three small children but no husband by her side. An Out Of Business notice plastered on the front window of Wright Place Realty. A For Sale sign decorating the lawn of the Whistlestop Inn.

She thought of the commissions she and Dana would earn from the sale of a ranch to Caleb. The sale of a substantial ranch. He’d made it plain he intended to acquire the largest piece of property she could locate. He’d seemed obsessed by the idea of owning a big spread in New Mexico. Strange, when he’d told her he already ran a working ranch in Montana. She’d had to bite her tongue against the question she wanted to ask. Why did he feel such a need to branch out?

Fortunately, she’d kept quiet. What did it matter to her, as long as she managed to find him that ranch clear across the state? She ought to be grateful for his obsession. The income she could earn in satisfying his need would take care of every worry she’d envisioned, for a good long time. She couldn’t afford—literally—to get on the man’s bad side.