comfort of the accommodations and the quality of the meals, the rooms had begun to fill.
Now it was rare for any room to sit empty for more than a week or two, allowing Antonia to breathe a sigh of relief that she hadn’t made a mistake with this venture. Especially considering that she’d given Peggy, the Wright’s longtime housekeeper and cook, a raise to compensate for the additional meal prep that was required, and had recently hired Nora, a high school student who lived up the road, to help serve dinner.
Because now that she was in her third trimester, Antonia had finally acknowledged that she no longer had the energy to be on her feet sixteen hours a day. And when those days started at 5:00 a.m., as hers had this morning, she was usually feeling the first signs of fatigue before the breakfast crowd had gone.
“Good morning, Toni.”
She recognized his voice immediately, and adrenaline rushed through her veins as her cheeks filled with color. There was just something about the way he said her name that actually made her knees weak.
“Good morning,” she replied, deliberately focusing on the baby in his arms rather than looking into the warmth of Clayton Traub’s dark brown eyes. “And how are you doing this morning, handsome?”
Bennett gave her a gummy smile and reached his arms out to her, and Antonia wanted nothing more than to scoop him up. Unfortunately, she had a full coffeepot in one hand and a trio of mugs in the other.
“Typical male,” she mused. “Wanting yet one more thing from a woman who already has her hands full.” But since she couldn’t give Bennett a cuddle, she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, then finally chanced a glance at his father. “I’ll bring his breakfast as soon as you get him settled.”
“No hurry,” he assured her. “He had some oatmeal about an hour ago.”
“We start serving breakfast here at six,” she reminded him. She’d given him a dining schedule along with the rest of the paperwork when he’d checked in, and for the first several days, he had brought the baby to the dining room early. But then the time of their arrival had started getting later and later, until they were showing up near the end of the breakfast shift rather than the beginning.
“And at six, you usually have a pretty full house,” Clay noted.
“A lot of the men need to get an early start because they have jobs in town or elsewhere that they have to get to.” Which made her wonder how her handsome boarder was occupying his time in Thunder Canyon. Of course, as long as his checks didn’t bounce, his employment—or lack thereof—wasn’t any of her concern.
Not that she was completely in the dark about Clay. He might have been “one of the Rust Creek Falls’ Traubs” but he was related to the Thunder Canyon Traubs, which meant that a fair amount of information about him was circulating around town. Including that he was one of six sons and had previously worked on the family ranch in Rust Creek Falls with four of his brothers. Only Forrest had opted for a different career, choosing to enlist in the military and fight for his country. He’d returned from the war in Iraq with an injured leg that was being treated by Dr. North at Thunder Canyon General Hospital. And PTSD, according to some whispers.
Since moving into the boarding house, both Clay and Forrest had been the subjects of as much admiration as speculation. The female population, in particular, seemed curious about these “real” cowboys who had come to town and were eager to get to know them better. Antonia didn’t think either of the brothers had encouraged the attention, but she couldn’t blame the women for their interest. Clayton and Forrest were both sinfully good-looking but, from day one, her heart had been firmly ensnared by Bennett.
“That’s why we like to come later,” Clay said, drawing her attention back to their conversation. “So Bennett can flirt with his favorite girl.”
“You need to raise your standards,” she told the little boy. Then, to his father, “And I really need to get this coffee into the dining room—where Forrest is already seated at your usual table.”
“Of course.” He stepped back so that she could move past him into the dining room.
As she did, she was conscious of his gaze following her. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Because why would Clay be watching her? Why would any man look twice at a woman whose belly entered a room ten seconds before the rest of her body did?
Okay, she knew she wasn’t really as enormous as she felt, but having to sneak into her father’s closet to find a shirt that would button over her baby bump made her feel huge and unattractive. Having a man pay any amount of attention to her was a boost to her battered ego—and when that man was as incredibly good-looking as Clayton Traub, well, she could probably be forgiven for letting her imagination run away.
Because even if he didn’t have any kind of romantic interest—and again, she’d be more shocked if he did—she enjoyed the brief conversations they occasionally shared over breakfast or dinner. Even after five weeks, she wouldn’t say she knew him well, but she did know him well enough to appreciate his straightforward manner and easygoing personality.
Mostly she appreciated that he didn’t ask too many questions. Having been the subject of so many whispers and rumors since her pregnancy became public knowledge, she was happy to talk to someone who didn’t want to know or seem to care about the father of her baby. And it warmed her heart immeasurably to witness the obvious affection between Clay and his son.
Obviously some men were able to embrace the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood. Unfortunately for Antonia, the father of her baby wasn’t one of them.
There had been more than a hint of fall in the air when Clay made his way to the main house for breakfast, reminding him that he’d already been in Thunder Canyon for longer than the few weeks he’d originally planned to stay. As he settled Bennett into the high chair that Toni had set at one end of the long table, it occurred to him that maybe it was time to go back to Rust Creek Falls and the family ranch. But he wasn’t ready to leave Thunder Canyon, not just yet.
He felt more than a little guilty that he’d bailed on his father and his responsibilities at the ranch—even if he’d done so with his mother’s blessing. Of course, Bob Traub was more than capable of handling things on his own. Hell, he’d been managing the whole spread since long before any of his sons had even been born, and he’d be the first to take issue with anyone who suggested that he wasn’t still capable of doing so.
He certainly hadn’t tried to prevent Clay from leaving. In fact, he’d agreed that it was a good idea for him to get away from Rust Creek Falls for a while. But when he’d encouraged his son to head west, Clay suspected that he meant a little farther west than Thunder Canyon—no doubt hoping that he would track down Delia in California and convince her to marry him so that their son would have a proper family.
Bob and Ellie Traub had raised their sons with traditional values and a strict moral code of behavior, and Clay believed in accepting responsibility for his actions. But he did not believe that marrying Delia was the answer, and he wanted something better for his son than a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in being a mother.
But until he figured out what that was, he was enjoying his time in Thunder Canyon. He liked the town and he had no complaints at all about the accommodations at Wright’s Way. The only real problem, from his perspective, was the inexplicable attraction he felt whenever he was around his landlady.
His very pregnant landlady, as he continually had to remind himself. Because any man could be forgiven for thinking lustful
