The Cowboy's Way
Kathie DeNosky
When a cowboy rescues a single mom, he promises to do things the right way—his way!–in this story from USA Today bestselling author Kathie DeNoskyRancher T.J. Malloy doesn’t think twice before saving a woman and her baby from raging floodwaters and taking them to his ranch. So what if it’s Heather Wilson, the neighbor he’s feuded with for months. Heather also happens to be heart-stoppingly beautiful and in desperate need of the kind of help only he can give.As the floodwaters rise, so does their passion.—and T.J. will do whatever it takes to get Heather to stay…on his terms!
When a cowboy rescues a single mom, he promises to do things the right way—his way!—in this story from USA TODAY bestselling author Kathie DeNosky
Rancher T. J. Malloy doesn’t think twice before saving a woman and her baby from raging floodwaters and taking them to his ranch. So what if it’s Heather Wilson, the neighbor he’s feuded with for months. Heather also happens to be heart-stoppingly beautiful and in desperate need of the kind of help only he can give.
As the floodwaters rise, so does their passion—and T.J. will do whatever it takes to get Heather to stay…on his terms!
“I’m not going anywhere. I want to help you out and make things easier for you and Seth.”
“I don’t think you being around will do anything but make things more difficult for us,” she said honestly.
T.J. cupped her cheek with his palm and held her gaze with his. “There’s something going on between us, Heather. I know you’re as frightened for yourself by whatever it is drawing us together as you are afraid of Seth being hurt. And to tell you the truth, I’m unsettled by it, too. But I gave it a lot of thought last night and I don’t think we can ignore it like it doesn’t exist. I give you my word that I’ll walk through hell before I hurt you or Seth.”
“We can try to ignore it,” she insisted, unable to sound as convincing as she would have liked. She didn’t even try to deny there was a definite chemistry between them. They’d both know she was lying.
“I’m not willing to do that,” he said firmly as he lowered his head.
The moment his lips settled over hers, Heather gave up trying to fight with herself …
* * *
Dear Reader, (#u1e912b2f-5c28-5eeb-ad55-b5b450641e5c)
This month I’m happy to bring you the fourth installment of The Good, The Bad and The Texan series, The Cowboy’s Way, which is also being published as a Billionaires and Babies novel.
When T. J. Malloy first meets his neighbor, he isn’t impressed. She can’t seem to keep her horse on her side of the fence separating their ranches and apparently doesn’t care to make the needed repairs to eliminate the problem. But when T.J. finds a woman and her young son stranded by a flooded-out road, his cowboy manners won’t allow him to walk away from the situation—even if it is his nemesis, Heather Wilson. That’s when he learns a valuable lesson about first impressions—sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.
I hope you enjoy going along for the ride as T.J. and Heather work toward finding their happily-ever-after in The Cowboy’s Way. Sometimes rocky, sometimes filled with unexpected detours, the road to love is never easy. But it’s always worth the journey.
And as always, I hope you love reading about T.J. and Heather as much as I loved writing their story.
All the best,
Kathie DeNosky
The Cowboy’s Way
Kathie DeNosky
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KATHIE DENOSKY lives in her native southern Illinois on the land her family settled in 1839. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Her books have appeared on the USA TODAY bestseller list and received numerous awards, including two National Readers’ Choice Awards. Kathie enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact her by e-mailing kathie@kathiedenosky.com. They can also visit her website, www.kathiedenosky.com (http://www.kathiedenosky.com), or find her on Facebook.
This book is dedicated to all of the single parents who work so hard each and every day to meet the many challenges of raising a child alone.
Contents
Cover (#uf8ea8f68-bc30-5e86-afcc-9d70162ff039)
Back Cover Text (#u4aa8a58f-cb29-540b-8f56-ea4c8f75ab0b)
Introduction (#u2d6fb8f6-f635-5545-b693-c173bcebbed1)
Dear Reader
Title Page (#u73ae7dae-03be-51ab-ba29-95ba54b56a98)
About the Author (#u58e949f3-f4f0-5586-bff5-13cc6216f75d)
Dedication (#u0be8dd39-3e5e-5de8-8373-b6ab26fcae95)
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Epilogue
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#u1e912b2f-5c28-5eeb-ad55-b5b450641e5c)
As he sat at Sam and Bria Rafferty’s dining room table after a delicious Christmas dinner prepared by his sisters-in-law, T. J. Malloy couldn’t help but smile. He listened to his foster brothers and their wives talk about what they had planned for the week leading up to the family’s annual New Year’s Eve party, which T.J. hosted at his ranch. And, as always, there was the usual good-natured ribbing and the laughter that always followed, as well as everyone making faces and funny noises to get a smile or a giggle out of the babies. Life was good and he was one grateful son-of-a-gun for the way everything had turned out.
Thanks to their foster father, Hank Calvert, T.J. and the other five men who had been placed in the man’s care when they were teenagers had straightened out their lives. In the process, they had bonded and become a family T.J. loved with all his heart. Now, he owned his own ranch, where he raised champion reining horses—a dream he’d had for most of his thirty-two years. And because he’d made several wise investments, he had more money in the bank than he could spend in three or four lifetimes.
Yup, he truly was a blessed man and he had the good sense to know it.
“Your turn, T.J.,” Bria said, smiling as she dished up slices of homemade red velvet cake. “What are your plans for the week?”
“Same as every year,” he said, smiling back at his sister-in-law. “I’ll spend the week training my horses and waiting for you all to show up on New Year’s Eve afternoon.”
Four years ago when he bought the Dusty Diamond Ranch and built his seven-bedroom house, everyone had decided that he would host the family’s New Year’s Eve gatherings. He had enough bedrooms to accommodate the entire family, and they could all bring in the New Year together without having to be out on the roads after celebrating with a few drinks. His brothers brought their wives or a date and once the kids had been tucked in for the night, they sat around and talked or watched a movie. It had become a tradition and one that T.J. looked forward to every year.
“Do you have a lady in your life who will be joining us this year?” Nate Rafferty asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Nate and Sam were the only biological brothers of the bunch, but they couldn’t have been more different if they had tried. While Sam was a happily married family man, Nate was wilder than a range-raised colt. He loved the ladies and seemed to have made it his mission in life to date every single woman in the entire southwest. But as rowdy as he was, Nate had the same sense of loyalty that had been instilled in all of Hank’s foster sons. Come hell or high water, Nate would be there for any one of them—the same as they would be there for him.
“T.J. does have a woman in his life, Nate,” Lane Donaldson said, laughing as he put his arm around his wife, Taylor. “But for some reason he won’t break down and ask his neighbor to join us.”
“You just had to go there, didn’t you, Freud?” T.J. replied, shaking his head in disgust. He should have known Lane would feel the need to comment. Having earned a master’s degree in psychology, the man knew exactly which buttons to push to get a rise out of any one of them. “She and her stallion are on one side of the fence and I’m on the other. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
That Wilson woman had been T.J.’s neighbor for close to two years, and he’d seen her only a handful of times. But his brothers constantly teased him about his “interest” in his ornery neighbor, even though all he knew about her was how careless she was with her horse. Hell, he didn’t even know her first name. And furthermore, he didn’t want to know it.
“You haven’t seen her since we put up that six-foot fence between your ranch and hers this past spring?” Sam asked, trying to dodge the glob of mashed potatoes his ten-month-old son had scooped off the highchair tray and tried to throw at him.
“Nope. I haven’t seen her or her stallion and that suits me just fine.” T.J. couldn’t help but laugh when little Hank landed the mashed potatoes right square on the end of Sam’s nose.
“Now that you have solved the problem of her stallion jumping the fence, what are you going to complain about?” Ryder McClain asked, laughing. His laughter immediately turned to a groan when his baby daughter, Katie, missed the burp cloth on his shoulder and “christened” the back of his clean shirt.
“Thank you, Katie,” T.J. said, grinning as he reached over to take the baby from his brother while Ryder’s wife, Summer, wiped off the back of his shoulder. “That shut your daddy up real quick.”
“You’d better watch out, T.J.,” Ryder said, grinning back at him. “You could be next. The smell of a clean shirt always seems to make my daughter nauseous.”
The most easygoing of the band of brothers, Ryder was also the most courageous. A rodeo bullfighter, he used to save bull riders from serious injury, or worse, on a regular basis. But since he’d married Summer and they had little Katie, Ryder had cut way back on his schedule and only worked the rodeos Nate and their brother Jaron Lambert competed in. T.J. suspected it was because Ryder wanted to make sure his brothers were well protected from the dangerous bulls they rode in their quest to become national champions. T.J. also knew Ryder would never admit that was the reason he hadn’t completely quit being a bullfighter.
“Will you be at the party, Mariah?” Lane’s wife, Taylor, asked Bria’s younger sister.
“Probably not,” Mariah said slowly. She paused as she glanced across the table at Jaron. “I’ve met someone and he’s asked me to go to a New Year’s Eve party with him at one of the clubs up in Dallas.”
Everyone looked at Jaron to see how he would react to Mariah’s news. The entire family knew the two had been attracted to each other practically from the moment they’d met. But Mariah had only been eighteen at the time and at twenty-six, Jaron had decided—and rightly so—that he was too old for her. Unfortunately, in the seven years since, Jaron hadn’t changed his stance and Mariah had apparently become tired of waiting on him and decided to move on.
“Congratulations on the new guy,” Jaron said tightly, breaking the awkward silence. “Have a good time.”
To the outward eye, his brother looked sincere, but T.J. knew better. By nature, Jaron was more reserved and quieter than the rest of the men, making it hard to figure out what he was thinking. But when he was pissed off, his voice took on an edge that was rock-hard, ice-cold and impossible to ignore. That edge was present now and T.J. knew Jaron was warning the rest of the men that he wasn’t in the mood for their affectionate teasing about Mariah, now or later. T.J. also knew every one of his brothers would respect Jaron’s need for silence on the matter.
“What about you, Nate?” T.J. asked, counting on the man to ease some of the sudden tension in the room. “Are you bringing someone this year?”
Nate shook his head. “I bought the Twin Oaks Ranch over by Beaver Dam a few weeks ago,” Nate stated proudly. “I’ve been too busy lately to think about anything but what I’m going to do with the place.”
“When did this happen?” T.J. asked, astounded. “I don’t recall you mentioning it when we were together at Thanksgiving.”
“I didn’t want to jinx it in case the deal fell through,” Nate said as he shoveled a big bite of red velvet cake into his mouth.
Nate’s superstition didn’t surprise T.J. one bit. Every rodeo rider he knew was superstitious about something. Even he’d had certain rituals he went through before he climbed on the back of a rank bucking horse when he competed.
“You’re finally putting down roots?” Sam asked, looking like he couldn’t quite believe Nate was serious.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, bro, but I never thought I’d see the day you settled down,” Ryder said, shaking his head.
“I just bought a ranch,” Nate said, grinning. “I never said I was settling down.”
“When do you move into your new den of iniquity?” T.J. asked, handing baby Katie to Summer for the rest of her bottle.
“I won’t be moving in for a while,” Nate said, taking another bite of the red velvet cake in front of him. He shrugged. “I’ve got some work I need to do on it first. I’m going to knock down a couple of walls to make a great room and the plumbing and wiring need to be upgraded. I also need to make a few repairs to the fences and maybe build a couple of new barns before I bring in livestock.”
“Just let us know when and how we can help and we’ll be there,” Lane said, speaking for all of them.
“I’ll do that.” Nate smiled at the women seated around the table. “And I’m counting on these lovely ladies to help out when it comes to decorating the house.”
T.J. raised an eyebrow. “Even the master suite?”
Nate shook his head as his grin turned suggestive. “I’ve got my own ideas for that.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Ryder said, voicing what the rest of the men were thinking.
“We can skip the details on your choice of decor for your bedroom,” Bria said, handing T.J. a slice of cake.
Everyone nodded their agreement and the rest of the evening was filled with talk about renovating Nate’s ranch house, causing T.J. to breathe a sigh of relief. If they were talking about something else, they weren’t teasing him about his neighbor. And that was just fine with him. The less he was reminded of the woman, the better.
Several hours later, after finalizing plans for when everyone would arrive for the New Year’s Eve party, T.J. left Sam and Bria’s for the hour’s drive back to his ranch. It had been raining all day, and by the time he reached the turn-off leading up to the Dusty Diamond’s ranch house, it had become an outright downpour.
He started to turn his truck onto the lane, but then stopped when he noticed a faint glow of red about a hundred yards up ahead. The best he could tell, it was the taillights of a car and he knew without a shadow of doubt that the creek had flooded out again, blocking the road. It only happened three or four times a year, but whenever there was a significant amount of rain, the slow-moving stream that bordered his ranch to the east turned into a raging river. With as much water as had fallen over the course of the day, the creek was probably a good twenty feet or so out of its banks on either side of the ravine.
Unable to ignore the fact that whoever was in the vehicle might need help, T.J. drove on until he reached the compact gray sedan sitting in the middle of the road. He could tell someone was still inside, and from what he could see of the slim form, that someone was female. Cursing the nasty weather, T.J. got out of his truck and jogged up to the driver’s side door.
“Is there anything I can do to help, ma’am?” T.J. asked as the woman inside lowered the window. She stopped halfway, and he wasn’t certain if it was to keep out the rain, or because he was the one offering her assistance. But he almost groaned aloud when he realized the driver was his archenemy, that Wilson woman from the neighboring ranch.
He hadn’t seen her since the last time her horse jumped the fence, back in the spring, when he’d had to take the stallion back over to the Circle W. It had been about the tenth time the horse had trespassed on Dusty Diamond land, and T.J.’s patience with the situation had come to a swift end. That’s when he’d had his brothers help him put up the six-foot fence between the two properties. The fence had eliminated the problem of her horse romancing T.J.’s mares and he had thought he wouldn’t have to deal with her again. Apparently, he’d been wrong.
“I was afraid of this,” she said, not looking any happier to see him than he was to see her.
T.J. wasn’t sure if she meant she had been afraid of not being able to get across the creek or she’d been afraid that he would be her only source of help. Either way, she wasn’t in the position of being choosy, and he wouldn’t walk away and leave her to solve the problem on her own. His foster father would probably come back from the dead to haunt him if Hank knew one of the boys he had raised had left a lady in distress to fend for herself.
“Even if it stops raining now, you won’t be able to get back to your ranch until morning,” T.J. pointed out. As he stood in the downpour, chilling water dripped off the back of his wide brimmed hat and ran down his neck. It was damned uncomfortable and he wasn’t inclined to mince words. “You’ll have to follow me to the Dusty Diamond. You can stay there tonight.”
She stubbornly shook her head. “We may be neighbors, but I don’t really know you and from our past run-ins, I’m not interested in getting acquainted.”
“Believe me, lady, I’m not, either,” T.J. stated flatly. “But there’s no way you’ll make it across forty feet of rushing water without stalling out or being swept down into the ravine. Then I’d be obligated to jump in and try to fish you out before you drowned. I’d really like to avoid that if possible.” He took a deep breath and tried to hold on to his temper. “Do you have anywhere else you can go?”
As she stared at him, she caught her lower lip between her teeth as if she was trying to think of somewhere—anywhere—she could spend the night other than at his place. She finally shook her head. “No.”
“Well, I’m not going to let you stay here in your car all night,” he said impatiently.
“You’re not going to let me stay in my car?”
From the tone of her voice, he could tell he had ruffled more than a couple of feathers.
“Look, I’m just trying to keep you from having to spend a damp, uncomfortable night in your car,” he stated. “But it’s your choice. If you want to sit out here instead of sleeping in a warm, dry bed, that’s your choice.”
When it dawned on him that she might be frightened of him, he felt a little guilty for being so blunt. He could even understand her reluctance to take him up on his offer. The few times they had come face-to-face, he had been angry. She probably thought he was an ill-tempered bastard. Unfortunately, he wasn’t doing anything now to correct that impression.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, making a conscious effort to remove the impatience from his tone. “It’s dark, cold and I’m getting soaked to the bone out here.” He hoped the friendly smile he gave her helped to alleviate some of her fears. “It’s warm and dry at my place and I’ve got plenty of room.” As an afterthought, he added, “And all of the bedrooms have locks on the doors.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror at something in the backseat, then hesitated a few seconds longer before she shook her head. She sounded tired and utterly defeated when she finally murmured, “I don’t have a choice.”
“When we get to the house, you can park in the garage,” he offered. “There’s plenty of room and you’ll be able to stay dry getting inside the house.”
“All right. I’ll follow you,” she said, rolling up the driver’s side window.
He jogged back to his truck and started it up. Once he had it turned around and checked to make sure she wasn’t having any trouble doing the same, T.J. drove back to the lane leading up to his home. When he steered the truck around the ranch house to the attached three-car garage, he pressed the remote to raise two of the wide doors and parked inside. By the time he got out, the woman had stopped her older Toyota between his truck and the Mercedes sedan he rarely drove.
He walked over and opened her door. When she got out of the car, his breath caught. The times he had taken her errant horse back to her and knocked on her door to demand she keep the horse on her ranch, as well as during their conversation a few minutes ago in the dark, cold rain, he had been so frustrated, he hadn’t paid much attention to his neighbor’s looks. But he sure as hell noticed them now.
A few inches over six feet tall, T.J. didn’t meet many women who could look him square in the eye without having to tilt their heads back. But the Wilson woman was only four or five inches shorter than him. When their gazes met, he felt like he had been kicked in the gut.
She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and for reasons that baffled him, he wanted to take her long, strawberry blond hair down from her ponytail and run his fingers through the soft-looking, wavy strands. The woman wasn’t just pretty, she was heart-stoppingly gorgeous. He couldn’t believe he had missed seeing that before.
When she turned to open the back door of her car and reached inside, he briefly wondered if she carried an overnight bag around just on the outside chance she got stranded somewhere. But when she straightened and turned to face him, T.J. barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. She held a blanket-covered child to her shoulder with one arm, while she tried to keep her grasp on her purse and a diaper bag with the other.
In the course of about three seconds several questions ran through his mind. First, he remembered that when he’d stopped to see if she needed help, she had been sitting in her car contemplating how she was going to get back to her ranch. Surely she wouldn’t have tried to cross the flooded road with her kid in the backseat? The realization of what might have happened if she had tried such a thing caused a tight knot to form in the pit of his stomach. Second, when he’d asked her if there was anywhere else she could go, she had told him there wasn’t. What would she have done if he hadn’t come along and offered her shelter for the night? Would she have tried to tough it out all night in the car with a child?
“Let me help you,” T.J. said now, stepping forward to take her purse and the diaper bag. Aside from the fact that it was just good manners for a man to help a woman carry things, the dark smudges beneath her eyes were testament to the fact that she was extremely tired.
“Thank you...Malloy.” She shook her head as she closed the car door. “I don’t know your first name.”
When he stepped back for her to precede him through the door leading into the mudroom, he did his best to give her a friendly smile. “The name’s T.J., Ms. Wilson.”
He suddenly realized that in the four years since he’d bought the ranch, he’d been so busy starting his breeding program and getting settled in, that he hadn’t bothered to get acquainted with more than one or two of the other ranchers in the immediate area. And the few times he had met up with Ms. Wilson, it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. He had been pissed off about her stallion impregnating his mares and hadn’t bothered to introduce himself and, understandably, she hadn’t been inclined to give him her name or exchange pleasantries when he had put her on the defensive.
He felt a little guilty about that. Oh, who was he kidding? He felt downright ashamed of himself. No matter if he had been angry or not, he had better manners than that and shouldn’t have been so demanding.
“My name’s Heather,” she said as they walked into the kitchen. When he turned on the lights, she stopped and looked around. “Your home is very nice.”
“Thanks.” He set her purse and the diaper bag on the kitchen island, then shrugged out of his wet jacket before helping her out of hers. “Would you like something to eat or drink, Heather?” he asked, doing his best to be cordial.
“Thank you, but it’s late and if you don’t mind, I’d rather get my son settled down for the night,” she said, sounding as if she was ready to drop in her tracks.
“No problem.” Hanging their coats in the mudroom, he picked up the two bags and led the way down the hall to the stairs in the foyer. “Do you need to call someone to let them know where you are and that you and your little boy are all right?”
T.J. wondered where her significant other was and why he wasn’t with her. Any man worth a damn wouldn’t have let his woman go out alone on a night like this. In T.J.’s opinion, there was no excuse for the man not being on the cell phone at that very moment checking to see that she and their little boy were safe and going to be all right.
Climbing the steps, she shook her head. “No. There’s no one. It’s just me and Seth.”
When T.J. stopped and opened the door to the first bedroom on the second floor, he stepped back for her to enter. “Ladies first.” Following her into the room, he added, “If this isn’t to your liking, I’ve got five more bedrooms to choose from.”
“This is fine, thank you,” she said, reaching for her purse and the diaper bag as if she would like for him to leave.
When her hand brushed his, he felt a tingling sensation along his skin and quickly reasoned that it was probably a charge of static electricity. But he couldn’t dismiss the heat he felt radiating from her quite so easily.
Frowning, he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’ve felt better,” she admitted as she set the two bags on the bench at the end of the bed.
Without a second thought about the invasion of her space, T.J. walked over and placed his palm on her forehead. “You’ve got a fever.” Lifting the edge of the blanket, he noticed the sleeping baby’s flushed cheeks. “Both of you are sick.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said, placing the little boy on the bed. “I had to take my son to the emergency room. I was on my way back home when you stopped to see if we needed help.”
“What was the diagnosis?” T.J. asked, hoping the little guy was going to be okay.
“He has an ear infection.” She reached for the diaper bag. “They gave me an antibiotic for him, as well as something to give him if his fever spikes.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you see a doctor while you were there?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be all right. I’m just getting over the flu.”
“You should have seen a doctor as well,” he said, unable to keep the disapproval from his voice.
“Well, I didn’t,” she retorted as if she resented his observation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“While you get him settled in bed, I’ll go get something for you to sleep in,” he interrupted, leaving the room before she could protest.
When he entered the master suite, T.J. walked straight to the medicine cabinet in his adjoining bathroom. Taking a bottle of Tylenol from one of the shelves, he went back into his bedroom and looked around. What could he give her to wear to bed? He preferred sleeping in the buff and didn’t even own a pair of pajamas. Deciding that one of his flannel shirts would have to do, he took one from the walk-in closet and headed back to the room Heather and her son would be using.
“Will this be okay?” he asked, holding up the soft shirt for her inspection. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more comfortable.”
“I could have just slept in my clothes,” she said, covering the baby with the comforter. Turning to face him, she took the garment he offered. “But thank you for...everything.”
“Here’s something to take for your fever,” he said, handing her the bottle of Tylenol. He went into the adjoining bathroom for a glass of water, then handed it to her as he pointed to the bottle. “Take a couple of these and if you need anything else, my room is down at the other end of the hall.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said, removing two of the tablets from the bottle.
He stared at her for a moment, wondering for the second time since finding her stranded on the road how he could have missed how beautiful she was all those times he took her horse back to her. Even with dark smudges under her eyes, she was striking and the kind of woman a man couldn’t help but wonder—
“Was there something else?” she asked, snapping him back to reality.
Deciding the rain must have washed away some of his good sense, he shook his head. “Good night.”
When he left the room and closed the door, he heard the quiet snick of the lock being set behind him as he started down the hall to his bedroom. Under the circumstances, he could understand her caution. A woman alone couldn’t be too careful these days. She didn’t know him and until tonight, he hadn’t given her a reason to think she might want to change that fact.
“You’re one sorry excuse for a man,” he muttered to himself.
He’d had his mind made up that she was just a defiant, uncaring female who arrogantly ignored his pleas to keep her horse at home. It had never occurred to him that she was every bit as vulnerable and overworked as any other single mother. Of course, he hadn’t known about the kid until tonight. But that was no excuse for jumping to conclusions about her the way he had.
As T.J. took off his damp clothes and headed for the shower to wash away the uncomfortable chill of the cold rain, he couldn’t stop thinking about his guests down the hall. He didn’t know what the story was with Heather and her little boy, but it really didn’t matter. Whether she wanted to accept his help or not, right now she needed it. She and her kid were both sick, and since there didn’t seem to be anyone else to see to their welfare, T.J. was going to have to step up to the plate.
One of the first things Hank Calvert had taught him and his brothers was that when they saw someone in need, it was only right to pitch in and lend a hand. He had told them that life could be an obstacle and sometimes it took teamwork to get through it. And if anyone ever needed a helping hand it was Heather Wilson.
Of course, T.J. didn’t think Hank had ever run into anyone with as much stubborn pride as Heather. The woman wore that pride like a suit of armor and was a little too independent for her own good. He toweled himself dry, walked into the bedroom and got into bed. He lay there for several long minutes, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the rain pelt the roof. Heather’s situation was a lot like his own mother’s.
Delia Malloy had been a single mother with all the responsibilities that entailed. She had done a great job of holding down a job and providing for their family of two while she raised him. T.J. would always be grateful for the sacrifices she had made. But when he was ten years old, they both came down with the flu. That was when his life changed forever.
His mother had taken good care of him and made sure he recovered with no problems, but what she hadn’t done was take care of herself. Physically run-down, she developed a case of pneumonia and hadn’t been able to fight off the infection. She died a week later and T.J. had been sent to live with his elderly great-grandmother.
That’s when all hell broke loose and started him on a downward spiral that ended up sending him to the Last Chance Ranch. His great-grandmother had really been too old to oversee what he was up to and who he was with. And he had been too hurt and angry about losing his mother to listen to her anyway. Looking back, he had been ripe for falling in with the wrong crowd and by the time he was thirteen, he had been arrested five times for vandalism and criminal mischief. Shortly after that his great-grandmother passed away and his case worker had decided that placing him with a set of normal foster parents would be more of the same, so he had been placed under the care of Hank Calvert. And even though it had been the luckiest break of his life, he was determined to see that Heather’s little boy didn’t go down the same path he had taken.
Her little boy was counting on his mother to be there for him throughout the rest of his childhood, and for the kid’s sake, T.J. would try to make sure that happened—at least this time. Whether she liked it or not, he was going to take care of Heather and her son while they were sick and flooded out of returning to their home. In the bargain, he’d make sure that her little boy didn’t suffer the same motherless childhood that T.J. had.
* * *
Around dawn the morning after she followed T. J. Malloy home, Heather lay in bed, feeling as if she had been run over by a truck. Assessing her symptoms, she realized that although her muscles weren’t as achy as they had been for the past couple of days, they were extremely weak. Just lifting her head from the pillow took monumental effort. Thankfully her headache was gone, but one minute she was hot and the next she was shivering—indicating that her temperature was still elevated. Thank heavens she had been able to scrape up the money to get Seth to the doctor a couple of months earlier for a flu shot. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him catching the illness from her.
“Mom-mom,” Seth said, sitting up to pat her arm.
She could tell from the tremor in his voice that he was about to cry and she knew why. For an almost two-year-old, he was a sound sleeper and had slept through the night since he was three months old. But he wasn’t used to sleeping anywhere but his own bed, in his own room, and he was probably disoriented by the strange surroundings.
“It’s all right, sweetie.”
Rubbing his back, she hoped he would settle back down and sleep for a little while longer before he insisted they get up for breakfast. Since coming down with the flu, it had been a real struggle to take care of a toddler, as well as a barn full of horses by herself, and she couldn’t help but want to get a little more sleep while she could. Fortunately, it had been a mild case of the illness or she would have never been able to manage on her own. But without being able to get enough rest, it was taking her twice as long to get over it.
Just as Seth closed his eyes and seemed to be drifting back to sleep, a tap on the door caused him to jerk awake and start to cry.
Shivering from the chills and feeling as if her legs were made of lead, Heather picked up her crying son and got out of bed. Without thinking about the fact that she was wearing nothing more than Malloy’s flannel shirt and her panties, she walked over to unlock and open the door. “What?”
“I thought you and your little boy might like something to eat,” Malloy said, holding out a tray of food.
If she had felt better, she might have tried not to sound so impatient. She might have acknowledged his thoughtfulness. At the moment, just the thought of food made her stomach queasy and she wished he hadn’t disturbed her son.
“Th-thank you, but...” Her voice trailed off when she noticed his expression. “Is s-something wrong?”
“Let me help you back to bed,” he said, brushing past her to set the tray on the dresser. “I’d ask if you still have a fever, but I already know the answer.”
“H-how?” She wished her teeth would stop chattering like a cheap pair of castanets.
Turning back, he took Seth from her, then put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the bed. “Just a hunch,” he answered, smiling.
Once she was back in bed, she noticed that Seth had stopped crying and was staring at the tray of food Malloy had set on the dresser. “Mom-mom, eat.”
Groaning, she started to get up, but Malloy stopped her. “I’m assuming that means he’s hungry?” When she nodded, he pointed to the tray. “I’ve got toast and scrambled eggs. Do you think he’ll let me feed him while you rest?”
She barely managed to nod before she pulled the comforter around herself and closed her eyes. If she felt better, she would have asked why he was being so nice to her, instead of thinking about how handsome he was. Her breath caught. Where had that come from?
If she was thinking T. J. Malloy was good-looking, her fever had to have made her delirious. That was the only explanation. If she could just rest for a moment, she’d be able to get up and take over feeding her son, as well as return to her senses.
Two (#u1e912b2f-5c28-5eeb-ad55-b5b450641e5c)
When Heather opened her eyes again, she noticed that the sun was shining through a part in the curtain and Seth was sound asleep on the bed beside her. Looking a little closer, she noticed he was wearing a pair of pajamas she had never seen before and his copper-red hair had been neatly combed to the side.
How long had she been asleep and where had the clothes her son was wearing come from?
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Heather couldn’t believe that it was already midafternoon. She had slept for eight straight hours. She couldn’t remember getting that much sleep at one stretch since before Seth was born.
Her heart stalled. Had T. J. Malloy taken care of her son?
She vaguely remembered a knock waking Seth and her opening the door to find Malloy standing on the other side with a tray of food. Had she dreamed that he had helped her back to bed?
When she realized that all she had on was his shirt and her panties, Heather closed her eyes and hoped when she opened them she would somehow be transported to her own bed in the Circle W ranch house and that the past twenty-four hours would prove to be nothing more than a dream. But aside from her embarrassment over a stranger seeing her wearing so little, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that Malloy had taken care of Seth. She didn’t really know her neighbor and from the previous run-ins she’d had with him, she wasn’t sure he was someone she wanted around her son. When Malloy had brought her stallion back the few times Magic Dancer had jumped the fence between their properties, the man had been the biggest grouch she had ever met.
“The horses,” she murmured suddenly, remembering that she had livestock to feed. Hopefully the water blocking the road had receded. She needed to get home to tend to the horses, as well as make sure the buckets she had left in the utility room to catch the drips from the leaking roof hadn’t overflowed.
As she sat up, Heather realized she felt a lot better than she had that morning. Her fever was gone. Maybe she had turned the corner and was over the worst of the flu. Sleeping all night and most of the day had probably been a tremendous help. It was a shame she hadn’t had the opportunity when she’d first come down with the illness. Her recovery time would have been a lot shorter.
But she hadn’t had that luxury in so long, it was hard to remember what it was like to have help with anything. After she had Seth, she’d had no choice but to let go of the men who had worked for her late father because she couldn’t afford to pay them. It was the only way she had been able to make ends meet on the Circle W. That meant she had to take care of feeding the horses, mucking out stalls and trying to keep up the endless other chores on a working horse ranch, as well as take care of a baby.
Careful not to wake Seth, she started to get up, then immediately sat back down on the side of the bed when her knees began to shake. She might be feeling better, but she was still extremely weak. It was going to be a real test of her fortitude to lift heavy buckets of water and bales of hay while she was in this state.
She tried again, and had just managed to walk over to the rocking chair where she had draped her clothes the night before, when the door opened.
“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Malloy said, entering the room and walking over to her.
She supposed he had the right to just waltz right in without asking if she minded. After all, he did own the place. But she wasn’t happy about it.
She grabbed her jeans and sweatshirt and held them in front of her. “Don’t you believe in knocking?”
“I was just checking on your little boy and didn’t expect you to be awake yet.” He shrugged as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned about it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m much better and as soon as I get dressed, Seth and I will go home and leave you alone.” She wished he would leave the room so she could take a quick shower before Seth woke up.
“Don’t worry about getting back home,” he said, his deep voice wrapping around her like a comforting cloak. “You really should stay until there’s no danger of a setback.”
Heather shook her head as much to stop the lulling effect of his voice as in refusal. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I don’t want to impose.” Feeling her knees start to shake again, she sat down on the rocking chair. “Besides, I need to get my livestock fed.”
“All you have to do is rest and get better,” he said, smiling. “I had one of my crew go over to your place when the water receded around noon to let your men know you and the little guy were okay. Since no one was around, my man took care of feeding your horses for you.”
She looked up at him and was hit with an unexpected observation. T. J. Malloy wasn’t just handsome, he was knock-your-socks-off good-looking. Her breath caught.
The few times that he had brought her horse home, she hadn’t noticed anything beyond his dark scowl and formidable stance as he threatened to take legal action against her if she didn’t keep her horse on her side of the fence. But without his wide-brimmed, black Resistol pulled down low on his brow, she could see a kindness in his striking hazel eyes that she would never have expected. And for some reason she found his brown hair, which curled around his ears and over the nape of his neck, sexy and rather endearing.
She frowned. Where had that come from? And why did she find anything about the man attractive?
It had to be some kind of residual effect of the fever. It was causing her to see Malloy in a different light. Surely as soon as she recovered her strength, she would come to her senses, regain her perspective and see that T. J. Malloy was just as unpleasant and unappealing as ever.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked, looking concerned.
“Uh, yes,” she said, nodding. “I’m just a little weak.” As an afterthought, she added, “Thank you for having one of your hired hands tend to my horses.”
“No problem.” He gave her the same smile that had caused the illusion of him being amiable. “I assume you gave your men the rest of the holiday weekend off?”
“Since you sent one of yours over to take care of my horses, I assume you didn’t?” she asked instead of answering his question.
She didn’t want to tell him that she’d had to lay off the two men. For one thing, it was a matter of pride. She didn’t want Malloy realizing that the Circle W had fallen on such hard times. And for another, she didn’t like anyone knowing that she and her child lived alone on the ranch. Not that it made a lot of difference, but she felt a little safer with people thinking the hired men were still in residence.
“I did offer to let them off, but they preferred me paying them double time for working this weekend,” he said, unaware of her thoughts. “So don’t worry about the horses until your men get back on Monday. I’ll have one of mine go over there again tomorrow and Sunday to take care of them.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she insisted. “I’ll do it.”
He stubbornly folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head. “You need to take it easy for a couple more days and make sure you’re completely over the flu before you start doing anything too strenuous. You won’t be doing yourself or your little boy any favors if you’re in the hospital with pneumonia.” Something in his tone, as well as his body language, told her than he was determined to have his way in the matter.
Just as determined to have her own way, she shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what you said last night and this morning,” he remarked. “I wouldn’t consider barely having enough strength to stand doing all that great.”
He probably had a point, but she hated to admit that he was right, almost as much as she hated that she found him so darned good-looking.
“Why do you care?” she asked bluntly. Apparently the flu had removed some kind of filter in her brain. She was unable to keep from blurting out whatever she was thinking.
His easy expression changed to the dark scowl she was more used to seeing from him. “Having the flu isn’t something you should take lightly. It can have serious complications. I’m just trying to make sure you’re around to raise your little boy, lady.”
She knew he was only doing what he thought was right, but it had been a very long time since anyone had cared to lend her their assistance or show they were concerned for her well-being. Even her late fiancé’s parents had severed all ties with her when their son died. And they hadn’t bothered contacting her since, even knowing she had been pregnant with their grandchild. That’s when she had decided she didn’t need them or anyone else. She was a strong, capable woman and could do whatever had to be done on her own.
Shrugging, she stared down at the clothes in her lap. “I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful,” she said, meaning it. “There’s no excuse for my being rude. I do appreciate your help. But I’ve taken care of Seth since I came down with the flu and I’m doing a lot better now. I know I’ll be fine.” She looked up into his hazel eyes. “Really.”
“I respect your need for independence,” he said, his tone less harsh. “All I’m trying to do is help you out for a couple more days. Rest up here, at least until tomorrow. I’ll have one of my men go over to your place, then all you’ll have to do when you get home is take care of yourself and your little boy.”
It was obvious he wasn’t going to give up and she wasn’t up to a full-scale verbal battle. And honestly, it would be nice to not have to take on everything all by herself for once.
“All right,” she finally conceded. “One of your men can take care of the horses for me tomorrow, but now that the road is clear there’s no reason for us to stay here and inconvenience you any longer.” She pointed toward the bathroom door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take a shower and get dressed so we can go on home. Seth and I have taken up enough of your time and generosity. Besides, we’ll both rest better in our own beds.”
She could tell Malloy wanted to say something about her insistence on going home, but Seth chose that moment to rouse up and start crying. Normally a sound sleeper, he could snooze through just about anything at home. But now that he was unfamiliar with the surroundings, their arguing had obviously disturbed him.
“It’s all right, sweetie,” she said, getting out of the chair. When she walked over to the bed to pick him up, she discovered that it took more effort than usual.
“Here, let me help,” Malloy said, stepping forward to pick up her son.
To her surprise when Seth recognized who held him, the little traitor laid his head on the man’s shoulder and smiled at her.
“Did you give him his medication?” she asked, feeling like a complete failure as a mother. She had slept while a total stranger fed, changed and apparently bonded with her child.
Malloy nodded. “I read the dosage on the bottle’s label and gave the antibiotic to him right after breakfast and then again after lunch.”
“You seem to know a lot about taking care of a child,” she commented, wondering if he might have one of his own. She felt a little let down that he might have a significant other somewhere, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.
“I have a ten-month-old nephew and a six-month-old niece,” he answered, as if reading her mind. “But other than watching their parents take care of them, I’m a trial-and-error kind of guy. That’s why I had to change this little guy’s sleeper and my shirt after lunch.” Malloy grinned. “I tried to let him feed himself and quickly learned that was an error.”
Heather smiled at the visual image as an unfamiliar emotion spread throughout her chest. There was something about a man being unafraid to hold and nurture a child that was heartwarming.
Not at all comfortable with the fact that the man drawing that emotion from her was T. J. Malloy, she asked, “Would you mind watching him for a few minutes while I take a quick shower?”
“Not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “Take your time. You’ll probably feel a lot better.”
“I’ll feel better when we get home.” She stared down at the jeans and sweatshirt she still held. “Seth is going to need diapers and we both need clean clothes.”
“Not a problem,” Malloy answered. “I had one of my men drive up to Stephenville this morning to pick up a few things I thought you would need. I had him get both of you a change of clothes, as well as diapers and some kind of little kid food.”
“How did he know what sizes to get?” That explained where Seth’s new pajamas came from.
“I told Dan to take his wife along for the ride.” Malloy looked quite pleased with himself. “They have three kids under the age of five and I figured if anyone would know what you both needed, it would be Jane Ann.” He pointed toward the dresser. “Your clothes are over there in the shopping bag.”
“I’ll reimburse you for everything,” she said, thankful to have clean clothes to put on after her shower. “Do you still have the sales slip?”
“No, I don’t and no, you won’t pay me back,” he said, firmly.
“Yes, I will.” She didn’t have a lot in reserve and hoped it didn’t cost much, but she did have her pride. She wasn’t the gold digger her fiancé’s parents had once accused her of being when she’d called to let them know about Seth’s birth. And besides, considering her past with Malloy, she wasn’t inclined to have him complaining about some other way she’d been negligent.
Malloy released a frustrated sigh. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“You can bet we will,” she vowed.
Deciding there was no reasoning with the man at the moment, Heather tugged at the shirt she was wearing to make sure it covered her backside as she got the bag of clothes from the dresser, then walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
When she looked in the mirror, she groaned. Her long hair resembled a limp mop and other than the few freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheekbones, she was the color of a ghost—and a sickly one at that.
But as she continued to stare in the mirror, the weight of reality began to settle across her shoulders like a leaden yoke. A shower and clean clothes could make her feel a little better physically and T. J. Malloy could offer as much neighborly help as he wanted, but nothing could wash away the worry or the hopelessness she faced when she returned home.
Unless something miraculous happened between now and the end of the January, she and her son were going to be homeless. And there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stop it from happening.
* * *
When Heather went into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door, T.J. sat down on the rocking chair with Seth and released the breath he had been holding.
What the hell was wrong with him? The woman looked thoroughly exhausted, was just getting over the flu and, without a shadow of doubt, was as irritable as a bull in a herd full of steers. So why was he thinking about how sexy she looked wearing his shirt? Or how long and shapely her legs were?
Earlier that morning, he had damned near dropped the breakfast tray he had been carrying when she opened the door. She hadn’t bothered with the top couple of buttons on the flannel shirt he’d given her to sleep in and he’d noticed the valley between her breasts. What was worse, she had been too ill to even try to be enticing and she had still managed to tie him into a knot the size of his fist.
“You’re one sick SOB, Malloy,” he muttered, shaking his head.
As he sat there trying to figure out what it was about her that he found so damned alluring, he frowned. He wanted her out of his hair as much as she wanted to leave. So why did he keep insisting that Heather needed to stay another night? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut, help her get her son buckled into his car seat and wave goodbye as they drove away?
Looking down at the little boy sitting on his lap, T.J. shook his head. “Be glad you’re too young to notice anything about girls. They’ll make you completely crazy with little or no effort.”
When Seth looked up at him and grinned, T.J. suddenly knew exactly why he was being overly cautious about them leaving. He couldn’t stop comparing Seth’s situation with T.J.’s own as a kid. Every child deserved to have their mother with them for as long as possible, and although Heather was clearly over the worst of her illness and thought she was ready to go home, he wanted to make sure there was no possibility of a serious complication. If she had her hands full taking care of a kid and a ranch while she continued to recover that would increase the chances of her having a relapse—or worse.
“I’m just trying to keep your momma upright and mobile for you, little guy,” T.J. said, smiling back at the child.
The little copper-haired boy on his lap gave him a big grin and patted T.J.’s cheek as he babbled something T.J. didn’t understand. He figured Seth was thanking him for taking care of his mother and an unfamiliar tightening filled T.J.’s chest. As kids went, Heather’s was awesome. Friendly and well-behaved, Seth was no problem to watch and if he ever had a kid, T.J. wanted one just like him.
He gave Seth a hug. “I’ll make sure to see that you’re both taken care of so that you can be together a long time.”
He had a sneaking suspicion there was more to his interference than that, but he wasn’t going to delve too deeply into his own motivation. He wasn’t sure he would be overly comfortable with what he discovered. Hell, he still wasn’t comfortable with the fact that he found his nemesis even remotely attractive.
The sudden crack of thunder followed closely by the sound of rain beating hard against the roof caused T.J.’s smile to turn into an outright grin. “It looks like Mother Nature agrees with me about the two of you staying put,” he said, drawing a giggle from Seth.
A few minutes later, when Heather walked back into the bedroom after her shower, T.J. noticed she wore the new set of gray sweats Jane Ann had picked out for her. He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but damned if the woman didn’t manage to make baggy fleece look good.
His lower body twitched and he had to swallow around the cotton coating his throat. Heather was as prickly as a cactus patch and tried to reject everything he did to help her, but that didn’t keep him from wanting to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
Unsettled by the wayward thought, he focused on telling her about how the nasty weather would change her plans. “You don’t have a choice now. You’re going to have to stay here until tomorrow.”
Her vivid blue eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that you won’t allow me to leave?”
“Nope. I’m not telling you anything of the sort,” he said, quickly deciding that he needed to watch the way he phrased things. He had seen that warning look in his sisters-in-law’s eyes when his brothers made a verbal blunder and he wasn’t fool enough to ignore it. “I’m just making an observation.”
Heather frowned. “Would you care to explain that?”
“Listen.” He pointed toward the ceiling and knew the moment the sound of rain pounding on the roof registered with her from the defeated expression on her face. “It’s coming down like somebody’s pouring it out of a bucket. With as much rain as we had yesterday, the creek is full and it’s a good bet the road is already starting to flood again.”
Groaning, she sank down on the side of the bed. “I have things I need to do at home.”
T.J. shrugged. “The livestock are already taken care of. I’m sure whatever else there is you need to tend to will keep until tomorrow.”
As soon as the words were out, he could tell he had pissed her off again. “Do you dismiss what you need to get done as unimportant?” she asked, spearing him with her sharp blue gaze.
“It depends,” he answered, wondering why she had taken offense to his comment and why he found her spitfire temper a little exciting. “If it needs my attention right away, I take care of it.”
“Then what makes you think the things I need to get done are different?” She stood up to fold the clothes she had worn the day before and stuffed them into the shopping bag. “You don’t have any idea what I have to do or what might need my immediate attention.”
He felt as if he had stepped into a minefield—any way he went could prove explosive. “I didn’t mean to imply that your concerns are less important than mine.” Suddenly irritated with her short temper, he set her little boy on his feet and watched Seth walk over to his mother, then he rose from the rocking chair. “I just meant that whatever you need to do will have to wait until after the water recedes again. And before this escalates into something that could make the remainder of your stay a pain in my...” Pausing, he looked down at the toddler gazing up at him. He wasn’t about to add a word to the kid’s vocabulary that she could take him to task over. “Make the remainder of your stay difficult, I think I’ll go see what I can rustle up for our supper.” Walking out into the hall, he turned back. “I’ll be up later to help you and Seth downstairs. And don’t even think about trying it on your own. A broken neck won’t help you get away from here any faster.”
Before she had a chance to tie into him over something else, he closed the door. He descended the stairs and went into the kitchen to see what he could find for them to eat.
“So much for trying to be a nice guy,” he muttered as he opened the refrigerator to remove packages of deli meats and condiments. Slamming the food down onto the kitchen island, he turned to get a loaf of bread from the bread box on the counter. “If she fell down the stairs she’d probably find a way to blame me and then sue my ass off.”
“Do you need me to help with dinner, Malloy?”
When he turned back, Heather and her son stood just inside the doorway. Closing his eyes for a moment, T.J. tried to shore up his patience.
“You didn’t listen to a dam...dang thing I said, did you?” he asked, opening his eyes to look directly at her. “As weak as you are you shouldn’t have tried the stairs on your own. Did you even consider that you or your little boy could have fallen and been seriously hurt?”
“I’m not a hothouse flower. I can do things on my own. I have been doing things on my own. Besides, we took it slow and I held on to the railing,” she said, shrugging one slender shoulder. “As you can see, Seth and I made it to the bottom without incident.”
He shook his head at her stubbornness. “Do me a favor and don’t try it on your own again. I’d rather you didn’t tempt fate.”
“I’ll think about it.” She was silent for a minute before she asked bluntly, “Why are you being so nice to me and my son? Why do you care what happens to us?”
T.J. stared at her for a moment. He supposed he could understand her wariness. Before last night the only times she had seen him were under less than favorable circumstances. He had been returning her errant stallion—the one who had covered his mares and ruined his breeding program for more than a year—and hadn’t really cared to be overly polite.
“I think before we go any further, I need to explain something,” he said seriously. “All those times I had to bring your horse back to you, I was angry that he’d covered several of my mares. I raise and train reining horses and having them bred by a rogue stallion set my breeding program back by at least a year.” He shook his head. “But I could have been more civil when I asked you to keep him confined, instead of making demands and threatening to get the law involved.”
She stared at him for several long moments and just when he thought she was going to reject his apology and explanation, she nodded. “I can understand your frustration and I’m sorry about him causing a delay in your breeding program. I did try to keep him on the Circle W, but I think Magic tries to live up to his name. He can be a regular Houdini when it comes to getting out of his stall or around a fence.”
“Some horses are like that,” T.J. admitted. “Especially studs when there’s a harem of mares waiting for them.”
They were both silent for several long seconds before she spoke again. “As long as we’re clearing the air, I owe you another apology. You’ve been very accommodating and I really do appreciate all of your help. Earlier I was frustrated that Seth and I weren’t going to be able to go home, but that’s no excuse for taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll accept your apology if you’ll accept mine,” he said, meaning it. “I should have been more understanding about your horse getting out.”
A hint of a smile appeared as she led her little boy over to the opposite side of the kitchen island, where T.J. stood. “And just to put your mind at ease, if I had fallen down the stairs, I wouldn’t have sued you, Malloy.”
He couldn’t help but grin as he opened one of the cabinets above the counter and reached for a couple of sandwich plates. “The name’s T.J. and I’m glad I won’t have to be calling my lawyer.” As he started making their sandwiches, he added, “So what do you say we start over and try being a little more neighborly with each other from now on?”
When he noticed the twinkle in her blue eyes and the dimples on either side of her mouth as she smiled at him, he felt like he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut. He had to have been as blind as a damned bat not to have noticed how pretty she was before.
“I suppose being more congenial is better than wanting to shoot you on sight,” she said, oblivious to his thoughts.
T.J. laughed, releasing some of the tension suddenly gripping him. “Yeah, being friendly is preferable to dodging lead.” He pointed to the slices of meat and cheese in front of him. “My housekeeper is up in Dallas with her family until after the first of the year and I’m not very good at cooking. I hope you don’t mind sandwiches for supper.”
“A sandwich is fine for me.” She shook her head. “I still don’t have much of an appetite anyway. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to find something else for Seth. I try to make sure he gets his veggies every day.”
“When I sent Dan and his wife to Stephenville, Jane Ann got a few frozen dinners she said were especially for little kids.” T.J. nodded toward the refrigerator. “She said they weren’t her first choice for feeding toddlers, but they would be better for Seth than some of the things I’d probably try to feed him.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “I zapped one of them in the microwave for lunch and I can honestly say, he really enjoyed flinging the macaroni and mini meatballs at me.”
“He behaves pretty well for being almost two, but he still has his moments,” she said, laughing as she and the kid walked over to open the freezer door on the side-by-side refrigerator.
The sound of Heather’s laughter caused a warm feeling to spread throughout his chest. He didn’t have a clue why, but for some reason it felt good to make her laugh.
T.J. frowned as he finished the sandwiches and set them on the table. He and Heather were little more than strangers and he still wasn’t convinced they could be friends. Why did he care one way or the other that he had made her laugh?
He wasn’t sure what his problem was, but he decided that some things were better left unexplored. He was already having enough trouble with the fact that Heather and her son hadn’t been on the Dusty Diamond a full twenty-four hours and he’d noticed—even when she was at her worst with the flu and wearing a baggy set of sweats—that she was sexy as sin. If that wasn’t proof enough that he was one extremely disturbed hombre, he didn’t know what was.
* * *
“This is a very interesting family room,” Heather said when T.J. showed her and Seth around his house after they finished dinner. “But I think this would come closer to qualifying as a man cave than a place where a family gathers.”
He chuckled. “That’s what I usually call it, but I thought it might sound a little more inviting if I referred to it as the family room.”
One wall of the huge space was dominated by an antique bar that looked as if it had come straight from a saloon in an old Western movie. Made of dark mahogany, the intricate carvings on the front were complemented by the marble inlayed top and the highly polished brass boot rail attached along the bottom a few inches above the floor. A large mirror in an ornate gold frame hung on the wall behind the bar Shelves on both sides were filled with expensive-looking whiskey, rum and tequila bottles. Several feet from the end of the bar an old-fashioned billiard table with hand-tied leather strip pockets stood, waiting for someone to send the racked, brightly colored balls rolling across its green felt top. All that was missing from that side of the room was a saloon girl with rosy red rouge on her cheeks and a come-hither look in her eyes.
“Would you like to watch a movie?” he asked, motioning toward the biggest flat-screen television she had ever seen. It graced the wall at the far end of the room. It wasn’t surprising to see that speakers had been hung on the walls surrounding the area, guaranteeing the viewer an audio experience that was sure to make him or her feel as if they were part of the action.
“I’ve got all the satellite movie channels, as well as pay-per-view,” he added. “I’m sure we could find something to watch that you’d like.”
The huge, comfortable-looking, brown leather sectional sofa in front of the television looked extremely inviting and Heather was tempted. “Maybe another time,” she said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “I’m afraid I’m still pretty tired and it won’t be long before I’ll have to get Seth in bed for the night.”
“It’s understandable that you’re tired. You haven’t regained all of your strength.” When Seth walked past him toward a basket of toys beside the sofa, T.J. grinned. “And before you ask if those are mine, I keep them around for my niece and nephew.”
“Do you babysit often?” she asked. He certainly seemed to know more about watching children than most bachelors.
He shook his head. “I don’t get to watch them all that much because of the rotation. But once in a while one of my brothers and sisters-in-law will ask me to keep one of them when they want to go catch a movie or have a kid-free dinner.”
She frowned. “The rotation?”
“I have five brothers,” he said, shrugging. “Three of them are married and unless they all want to go out together, my other two brothers and I have to take turns with Mariah.”
“Is she your sister?” Heather asked, wondering what it would be like to have that many siblings.
He shook his head. “She’s our sister-in-law’s sister.”
“What happens when the couples go out together?” she asked.
He grinned. “That’s when we bachelors get together and become a babysitting tag team.”
“That sounds...effective.” Laughing, Heather shook her head. “I still can’t get over six boys. Your poor parents. I can only imagine the chaos.”
“Actually, they’re my foster brothers,” he said, smiling. “We met as teenagers and finished growing up together on the Last Chance Ranch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, wondering if growing up a foster child was a painful subject for him.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Thanks to our foster father, Hank Calvert, moving to his ranch was the best thing that ever happened to all of us. We’ve become a real family and there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said, meaning it. She had never known that kind of closeness with her sister. If they had been close, Heather wouldn’t have had such a struggle the past couple of years.
They were silent for a moment before he asked, “What about you? Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“I have an older sister,” she answered, nodding. “But Stephanie and her husband live in Japan and I haven’t seen or heard much from her in several years.”
“That must be tough,” he said, his tone sympathetic.
“I would like to say that it is,” she confessed, feeling a twinge of regret. “But my sister and I never really had anything in common, nor were we ever all that close. I always loved growing up on the Circle W and couldn’t imagine moving so far away that I wouldn’t be able to come back whenever I wanted to ride my horse. But she couldn’t wait to grow up and leave it and our family as far behind as her Prada knockoffs could take her.” Heather paused as a wave of emotion swept over her. “She didn’t even bother to come home for our father’s funeral two years ago.”
T.J. put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side in a comforting gesture. “It’s never too late, Heather. Maybe one day you and your sister can find some common ground.”
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