The Rodeo Man's Daughter. Barbara White Daille
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Well…naturally, she’d grown up and filled out.
Still, she had the same shoulder-length tumble of dark curls, the pale skin that gave her away every time she blushed, the sparkling dark brown eyes. She looked up at him again now, those eyes wide, and said not a word.
He glanced down to see her hanging on to her teacup for dear life, it seemed. No wedding band. He wondered about that.
Not that it meant anything to him.
If only he could say the same about the way her fingers had trembled in his when he’d shaken her hand earlier…
Letting go of the death grip on her cup, she transferred her attention to the hem of her yellow shirt. The tug she gave on it pulled the fabric taut against her.
He forced himself to focus on taking a long swallow of his coffee.
“I think I’ve got everything we’ll need.” Her lips curved briefly. “Any last-minute items for your wish list?”
Yeah. A real smile. That one had looked so fake, he wouldn’t have given her a nickel for it. “Nope. That about covers it for now.”
“Then I’ll get back to the office and start working on this. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something to suit you.” She flipped the notebook closed and dropped it into her bag.
When she started to slide out from the booth, he reached for her arm. Warm, soft skin met his palm. Holding her hand outside the office had given him a jolt. This about mule-kicked him across the room.
He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “What’s your hurry? Been a long time since the two of us talked.”
“Yes.”
Obviously, if she had her way, it would be an even longer time before they had a proper conversation.
He settled against his seat cushions and stretched his legs out under the table, trying to find a comfortable position. “So, you wound up selling property for a living? Not a bad job. What does your husband do?”
And why the heck had he asked that?
Tess looked as if she wondered the same thing. “I don’t have a husband,” she said, clipping the words.
He frowned. “Last time I saw you, you were planning on getting married.”
“I know,” she said, her voice cold. “It didn’t work out.”
“Yeah. Neither did we.” Again, he’d blurted the response without thinking. This time, though, he knew why. The bitter memory of their last meeting had driven him to speech.
He might as well have waved a red flag in front of her with his words. Her face went as belligerent as a bull getting ready to charge.
“There was no ‘we,’ Caleb. I seem to remember that maybe once there might have been. But you wanted to go off and start winding your way along the rodeo trail. So you did.”
The acid in her tone seemed at odds with the hurt look in her eyes.
Well, he’d had his reasons. And she’d damned well given him another. One guaranteed to keep him away. Jaw clenched, he tried shrugging away the wave of guilt pounding at him. No such luck. He reached for the fresh pot of coffee Dori had brought a few minutes back.
The door to the Double S opened. Glad for the distraction, he looked up and watched a group of little girls roll like tumbleweeds into the place.
On the opposite side of the booth, Tess jerked to attention. He’d swear her face grew paler yet.
“Anything wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head.
She was lying. Something about that little crowd bothered her.
“Excuse me a minute,” she said.
The girls had crossed the café and taken over the row of stools lining the counter in the back of the room. They looked innocent enough. Clean and respectable, too. A big contrast to the kid he’d given the cash to earlier.
The same thing people had thought about him when he’d lived here. He gripped the handle of his coffee mug, trying to get hold of his anger. At that age, neither he nor that kid had the power to control their worlds. Couldn’t folks understand that?
He shook his head and looked again at the girls. Eight, nine years old, maybe. He’d seen plenty like them in his days on the circuit. Just a bunch of giggling kids who cared only about hanging out at the rodeo with their friends. Nothing to worry about with girls that age.
It was the older ones you had to watch out for.
Eyes half-closed, he sat back and admired the view of Tess’s yellow shirt riding above well-fitting khakis as she marched toward the group of girls.
When she came up to them, they swung around on their stools. The sideways glances the four of them shot each other said plainly they hadn’t expected to run into her here.
She leaned close to one of the kids, a pint-size version of Tess with dark curls and a stubborn chin he’d recognized easily. Had to be Tess’s little girl.
All the coffee he’d swallowed that morning suddenly churned in his stomach.
The kid stuck that chin out now and shook her head. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from Tess. Trouble there, for sure.
The girl looked around the room at anyone and anything but her mama. Her gaze zeroed in on him, and her eyes widened to about the size of his competition champion belt buckles.
“Mom, look!” she said in a strangled whisper. She might’ve been trying to keep her voice down, but he could hear her clear across the room. She tugged on Tess’s shirt. “Mom, do you see him?” Her voice rose with every word. She waved her arms frantically at her friends. “Guys—over there, in the corner. That’s Caleb Cantrell.”
The trio surrounding her squealed like a sty full of pigs discovering a replenished trough. A familiar enough sound.
He smiled in satisfaction. Now, this was one group in Flagman’s Folly he wouldn’t need to work at impressing.
All four of them jumped off their stools.
To give her credit, Tess made an attempt to grab hold of her daughter and the girl next to her. They likely didn’t even feel her hands on their shoulders as they slipped from her grasp. At that moment they were driven, with one goal in mind.
Getting to him.
From the look on Tess’s face, she wanted to be anywhere but here.
Carefully, he set his half-full coffee mug aside, moved his Stetson out of reach and braced himself, knowing what would happen next.
The girls headed toward him. No tumbleweeds rolling gently along now. Their eyes shining, their mouths tight with suppressed excitement, they stampeded across