reached for Rosita’s hand. “Mama, I was only teasing you.”
“Sometimes I hear things—how could I not? But I do not deliberately sneak around and spy on the Fortunes.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“And sometimes they tell me things themselves. They know I care about them, Maggie.”
“I’m sure they do.”
Rosita became thoughtful for a few moments, then she smiled rather impishly. “You know, Maggie, Dallas is considered to be the area’s most eligible bachelor. He’s very good-looking, he’s educated and he’s a hard worker. Maybe you should be nice to him.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “You just told me a few minutes ago how much you respected his long mourning period. And then we talked about Sophia, and you said that she took advantage of Ryan while he was in the same state after Janine’s death. Surely you’re not suggesting that I chase Dallas as Sophia chased Ryan!”
Rosita looked aghast. “Oh, my, I did sound as though I was, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Mama, you did.” Maggie studied her mother’s stricken face. “But I know you didn’t mean it. You were only teasing, too.”
“Well…yes,” Rosita said slowly, almost reluctantly, Maggie noticed just before her mother smiled again. “But you are not like Sophia. You are a good, honest, kindhearted, decent woman, and Dallas would be lucky to have you for his wife.”
“Mama, you’re incorrigible!” Maggie got up. “I’m going to bed.” Leaning over, she kissed Rosita’s cheek. “Good night, Mama.”
“Good night, Maggie.”
Chuckling under her breath over her mother’s brass, Maggie went into her room and shut the door. How could her mother possibly think that Dallas Fortune would ever marry a nobody? she thought while getting ready for bed. Especially when he was still in love with his deceased wife.
Maggie stopped buttoning her pajama top, as today’s meeting with Dallas overwhelmed other thoughts. Unquestionably, he had looked at her as a man looked at a woman. She could get his attention, if she put out the effort. But then what would happen? she asked herself with a disdainful toss of her head. A fling? A short-lived affair? She wasn’t here permanently, for one thing, and besides, her sexual experience was limited solely to the man she had married. She wouldn’t even know how to have an affair. For that matter, she didn’t even like the word affair.
Flirting with Dallas Fortune would undoubtedly end up in shame for herself and her family. She wanted no part of that sort of heartache, nor did she deserve it.
Settling down in bed, she told herself to forget Dallas’s whiskey-colored eyes and great smile. Forget his long, lean body. Forget you even met him again!
“Good advice,” she whispered, and took a vow to heed it.
Two
Dallas put in a restless night. He kept picturing Maggie, and reliving the feelings he’d had while talking to her. Was he being disloyal to Sara because he found another woman desirable? He’d honestly believed it would never happen again, and the fact that it had was still surprising him, even at midnight.
How best to approach Maggie? he wondered, knowing he was driven to do it. Was she a lady who would like being treated delicately? Somehow that image didn’t mesh with the blatant sensuality she exuded. Maybe she liked the he-man approach.
Truth was, Dallas finally had to admit, Maggie made him nervous. It had been a long time since he’d made advances toward a woman with anything in mind but a friendly chat. He was out of practice as far as flirting went—rusty as hell, actually. Maybe straightforward simple honesty was all he had to offer.
Punching his pillow because he was tired and his eyes wouldn’t stay closed, Dallas tried again to steer his obstinate mind away from Maggie Perez. This time he thought about Travis and what a great little kid he was. Was he five years old? Six? He was a handsome boy, with his mother’s dark skin and hair, and bright blue eyes that could only have been inherited from his father.
Where was Maggie’s husband? Okay, Dallas thought disgustedly, obviously he was destined to torture himself all night with questions about Maggie. She hadn’t said that she and her husband were moving back to Texas—she’d said that she was going to look for work in the Houston area. Did that mean that the man she’d married was no longer in the picture?
It occurred to Dallas at some point in the night that he was almost as drawn to Maggie’s son as he was to her. Truth was, he realized, he would like to see them both again.
Something else occurred to him. He could ask Rosita, Ruben or Cruz about Maggie’s husband. Rosita was the logical choice, because both Ruben and Cruz were rather closemouthed. But Rosita loved to talk; if Maggie was divorced, Rosita would tell him.
But, dammit, he’d rather ask Maggie herself! No, he would not take his questions to her mother, he’d take them directly to Maggie.
With that decision made and final, Dallas slept.
The following day Maggie was startled to look out the kitchen window—just to check on Travis’s whereabouts—and see Dallas outside in the yard with her son. A pickup was parked near the front gate, obviously Dallas’s. Maggie’s stomach instantly tensed, and she chewed uneasily on her bottom lip. Why was he here?
In the next breath she couldn’t help smiling. Dallas had taken off his western hat and placed it on Travis’s head. Then he let himself be led around the yard while Travis showed him his toys. Maggie was amazed that a grown man would give some of his valuable time to a little boy he barely knew.
“How old are you?” Dallas asked the youngster.
“I’m five,” Travis said with a big-boy swagger. “And I’m tough, Dallas.”
Dallas swallowed his laughter and said solemnly, “Five is almost a man.”
“Yep, and I’m gonna be a cowboy like Grandpa and Uncle Cruz. They’re tough, too.”
“Yes, they are,” Dallas agreed. Ruben wasn’t a tall man, but he was built like a bull and possessed astounding strength. Cruz had the height in the family, and everyone knew he was Rosita and Ruben’s pride and joy. He wore his shiny dark hair long and sometimes tied back with a leather band, and it was common knowledge that Cruz had attracted women like flies to honey since he was twelve years old. Now, at twenty-nine, Cruz was settled down and happily married.
Dallas felt that their business arrangement was a good deal for both of them. Cruz had a special talent with horses, and Dallas was positive that Cruz would work hard and make his longtime dream of breeding and raising quality horses a huge success. Besides, Dallas personally like Cruz, who was two years older than himself.
“Trav,” Dallas said, unconsciously shortening the boy’s name, “is your mama in the house?”
“Yep! Want me to call her?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll knock on the door.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“I’d
