MADE IN TEXAS Read online

  "I know." She smiled as she washed another plate. "I love it, don't you?"

  "Well, it's a bit too witchy-gothic right now for me, but I can see that you're happy." Kate set the dry plate on the stack with the others. "Some wallpaper and paint will do wonders. And don't forget to call me when it's time to do some serious furniture shopping."

  "I won't. I'd like a Victorian look, but without the dark wood." She eyed the kitchen cupboards, stained dark brown. "What color should I do the kitchen? I can't decide between blue and yellow."

  "Red," Kate declared. "A nineteen-thirties deep red would look great with the wood inhere. With white tile on the counters and red toile curtains and accents."

  "Red toile," Addie repeated slowly, turning to survey the large room. "That could work."

  "Very French country," Kate declared. "Very casual but elegant, in a ranchy kind of way without being ranchy, if you know what I mean."

  "I think I do." Did she dare paint the cupboards red, or would the dark wood look okay if it was cleaned and waxed? She stopped washing and gazed upward, picturing the cupboards with white glass knobs instead of cast-iron handles.

  "Now that we have that settled, let's talk about Cal. He is gorgeous and quite charming, in that 'strong, silent type' way. You said you actually slept with him that night? I mean, you didn't make that up or dream it or something?"

  "Unfortunately, no. I mean, yes, I did—you know." She looked behind her at the door to what was now the family's living room. There was no sign of her mother or children lurking there, so she turned back to Kate. "I didn't stay there long. And I certainly didn't sleep. It was over … quickly."

  Kate's eyebrows rose. "How very disappointing. Shame on him."

  "No, it wasn't like that. We were both—" She stopped, unwilling to share the intimate details, even with Kate.

  "Satisfied?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, since you hadn't had sex in three years, I'm sure you were more than ready to be … satisfied. Quickly." Clearly Kate was willing to give Cal the benefit of the doubt there. "And then you grabbed your clothes and ran?"

  "I put on my clothes—most of them—and ran. And he tried to catch up with me to ask my name—I told you that part already."

  "But I want to hear it again. It's rather romantic."

  "Sordid," Addie corrected. "It's rather sordid."

  "Well, that depends."

  "On what?"

  "On what happens next. Are you going to slink around acting guilty and miserable, or are you going to 'satisfy' each other again?"

  "Neither."

  "Please tell me that you're not going to let that man go to waste? I'd give him a whirl myself, but he couldn't take his eyes off you all through dinner. He was practically drooling in his lasagna, you know."

  "He wasn't."

  "Trust me, Addie, honey, I know when a man wants a woman, and that man wanted you."

  "He's not getting me," Addie declared, flushing under Kate's scrutiny. She would rather milk cows than tell her friend that Cal had almost kissed her this afternoon. And that she had wanted—for one brief crazy moment—to haul him across that new, wide mattress and kiss him senseless.

  Her baby-growing hormones were definitely out of control.

  And Addie, who had always prided herself on being an open and honest person, realized she had become frighteningly good at keeping secrets.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  «^»

  She thought she'd love being alone in her new bed Saturday night. Her mother had gone to sleep an hour earlier in the former parlor that Ed Johanson had used as a bedroom. Paula had organized Ed's meager possessions, storing papers and photographs in boxes for Addie to browse through another day. They'd made up yet another one of the new beds.

  And now the house was quiet, with Kate across the hall in what they called "the blue room," and the boys happily occupying the big room next door, sleeping like five-year-olds who'd just spent their first day on a ranch.

  So Addie knew she should be content in her enormous bed, on crisp white sheets with a higher thread count than she'd known existed, her head resting on soft piles of goose down.

  It was all too much, she thought, listening to the quiet whirring of the ceiling fan above her bed. Too many things had changed, even though most of the changes were good ones. She splayed her hands across her flat abdomen and wished she knew what to do with this particular change. Would Cal welcome the news of fatherhood? Would he be angry, and leave, never to be seen again, as her own father had when confronted with a family life he couldn't enjoy? And if he left, how would she run a cattle ranch?

  John was too old to do much more than give advice. According to her father's will, he had the lifetime use of his little house and a small monthly salary to supplement his Social Security check. Something about a trust, the lawyer had explained, though at the time she'd missed some of the details.

  Cal's salary had been paid for the next six months, another odd stipulation of her father's will. Perhaps Ed Johanson had meant for her to have the help she needed to run things here, but she knew nothing about horses or cattle except what they looked like. But, she decided, she could always hire someone else after the six months. Surely she could find another ranch hand or, if she had to, stop, raising beef cattle. Maybe she could lease the cattle pastures, or whatever the land was called, to another ranch in the area. She would manage to think of something.

  But maybe Cal would want to be a father. Maybe he would demand his share of custody, and this baby would be in a crazy tug-of-war between two people who loved her. Or him. She pictured handing over her baby—wearing a pink dress and a ruffled hat—to Cal and his future girlfriends to care for on weekends and holidays and summer vacations. No, that was not going to happen. Not to her child.

  She'd managed just fine without a father. She'd never hated the man or resented him for leaving. She'd actually spent her childhood thinking her father would drive up to the little house in south Austin and take her away to live with him in a house on the ocean or a castle in England. He would explain that he'd had amnesia, like Damon on her mother's favorite television show, and now that he had his memory back he would never leave his favorite little girl again.

  Of course, the dreams never came true, but she had survived. And triumphed. Uncle Ned had given her away at her wedding, and she'd had Jack, who'd loved her for years and given her a family of her very own.

  Cal had been a mistake. An unwilling sperm donor. A man she thought she'd never see again, until Mr. Anders had pulled out the map of Nowhere, Texas, and she realized that fate had decided otherwise.

  She was not a lucky person, but right now, anyone who saw her would think she was the most fortunate person in Nowhere, at least. She was a woman of property. A woman who owned livestock and had two ranch hands and miles of fenced land.

  But she would rather have had a father than his money.

  Addie closed her eyes and rolled over on her side. She was a woman alone in a big bed and all she wanted to do was cry.

  * * *

  "Can you teach me about cows?"

  It was the last thing Cal expected Addie to say. But he hadn't expected her to knock on his door, either. He'd managed to avoid the woman for three days, and here she was, two minutes after he'd walked in the door after a long morning spent dealing with sick calves. And now he smelled worse than they had. So he wasn't prepared for company, not even when a pretty woman stood at his door.

  "I need to know how the cattle business works," she said, staring up at him with barely disguised impatience. She held a stack of notebooks against her chest and she looked so serious, he wanted to laugh. But he didn't dare. "Can you explain it to me?"

  "Why?"

  "Oh, for heaven's sake!" Her blue eyes flashed. "Because, Cal, I'm asking you to."

  He backed up and pushed the door open so she could step into his kitchen. She moved past him quickly, as if afraid to accidentally touch him, and he guessed he
couldn't blame her. Whenever they were too close together, there were enough sparks between the two of them to bum down a barn.

  "I meant," he drawled, once she was inside and standing by the small table, "why are you asking me?"

  "Your the expert," she said, looking up at him with those blue eyes that made him want to drop to his knees and beg her to go to bed with him. The thought of it made him smile, just a little. His little bed would never be the same if Addie Larson were in it with him.

  "Quit laughing," she said, looking beautiful in a bright blue T-shirt and baggy tan shorts. The woman had a nice pair of legs, he remembered. And here they were in his bunkhouse. "I'm serious."

  "I'd help you if I could, of course. But Ed kept his business operations to himself, Addie. He made all the decisions and I followed orders."

  "Oh." She looked so disappointed, he felt sorry for her.

  "Would you like a drink?" He opened the refrigerator to see what he could offer. "I have beer, iced tea and oh, yeah, a Mountain Dew. Or I can put on some coffee."

  "Iced tea would be good." She set the battered notebooks on the table and sat down in the chair facing him. "Let me be honest," she began. He turned, a tray of ice cubes in his hand.

  "All right," he said, wondering what the hell was coming next. When a woman wanted to be "honest," it was his experience that nothing good could come of the rest of the conversation. He filled a tall, plastic glass with ice and poured some cold tea over it, then set the glass on the table in front of her. "But after I get out of these clothes and take a shower."

  "Do you have to?" She looked at her watch.

  "Yeah," he said. He could delay this "honest" stuff for a few more minutes easily enough, and he wasn't going to be this close to Addie when he smelled like cow. "I have to. Where are the kids—with John?"

  "No. I wouldn't do that to him. They're at a prekindergarten session in town. And I have an appointment at two-thirty."

  "I'll be quick," he promised. And he was as good as his word, too, showering in record time and, dressed in clean jeans and one of his best shirts, returning to the kitchen in less than ten minutes. He was barefoot and his hair was wet, but he didn't think Addie would care. She was ready to talk business and have some kind of honest discussion with her ranch hand, that was all. She hadn't come to unbutton his shirt or tell him to make love to her.

  "Wow, that was fast." Addie had spread the notebooks across the table and had drunk half of her tea. She had a pen in her hand and a small calculator on top of one of the notebook's pages.

  "I've learned to be quick, before the hot water runs out." He refilled her tea and fixed a glass for himself before sitting down across from her. "So, what's the problem?"

  She stared at him for a long moment—so long, he wondered if she'd heard his question. And then, to his absolute horror, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "Oh, jeez, Addie," he sputtered. "Not again!"

  "Sorry." She made an attempt to wipe her face. "And I'm sorry I was such an idiot that night, too. Crying like that—like this—it's, well, so embarrassing. I'm sorry, I really am."

  "Here." He got up and grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and handed them to her. "Well, this time you're not crying because we're both naked and I'm on top of you, so what is it?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing. And please don't use the word 'naked' again. It was just that you asked me 'what's the problem' as if you were going to help me solve it." With that, tears filled her eyes again, but she blinked them back and sniffed. "In case you're wondering, it's been a long time since anyone—okay, a man—offered to help like he meant it."

  Why would someone offer to help if he didn't mean it? Cal knew he was in way over his head. He sat down again and figured he'd just wait this one out. Then he changed his mind and went into his room to find a clean handkerchief, which he handed to Addie before sitting down again.

  "Thank you," she said. Her nose was bright red and her eyes were puffy, but he longed to take her in his arms and hold her. If she were his, he'd haul her onto his lap and let her cry all she wanted on his shoulder. Then he'd solve all the problems in her world, damn it. No matter how serious or silly or incomprehensible they were.

  "You want to know about cows," he prompted. She took a deep breath and seemed to compose herself. "I've been going through my father's papers and I can't make any sense out of them. He stipulated in his will that you were to be paid your salary for the next six months. Does that mean you're going to stay here?"

  Cal hesitated. He'd fallen half in love with her that night at Billy's. He could fall the rest of the way in six months, considering that body and those blue eyes, and the sweet way she had of looking at a man as if he was the only person she saw. "I guess," he said, "that's up to you. I mean, if you want a cattle operation or not."

  "Do they make money?"

  "It depends. Ed—your father—cut back on that, too, these past few years. We used to hire extra men in the summer, but right now it's a small operation. John's pretty much retired now, except for the horses, and you'd have to decide if you want to be a rancher or not."

  "You tell me," she said, pushing the books and the calculator across the table toward him. "See what you think of all these accounts, if I can make money at this."

  "All right. You mind if I run these figures past John?"

  "Of course not." She stood and tossed the used paper towel in the wastebasket next to the fridge. "Thanks for the tea."

  "Anytime." He stood, too, but she didn't move toward the door.

  "I'll wash this." She tucked the handkerchief in the pocket of her shorts. "Could you just tell me if you're planning on leaving the ranch or not? I mean, I'd like to have some idea, in case I need to look for help, in case I keep the cows."

  "I'll stay as long as you need me," he promised, knowing it was the truth. Knowing he was in serious trouble when it came to this particular woman.

  "Fair enough." She hesitated again and looked up at him. "Thank you." That tempting little mouth was so close, he could reach her in one stride if he actually lost his mind and decided to try.

  "Addie, hon, stop looking at me like that."

  "Like what?"

  "Like you're waiting to get kissed good-bye," he said, watching her blush. "Don't make me kiss you, because you don't have the time for me to do it right."

  She actually laughed, and then said, "You're right," before she turned and walked out the door.

  And then it was Cal's turn to be surprised.

  * * *

  "Any other problems besides morning sickness, Mrs. Larson?"

  "You mean, besides a craving for spaghetti sauce and basil?"

  The young doctor laughed. "I can't do anything about that, except to confirm that you are pregnant, as you knew already. I'll prescribe vitamins, give you the list of do's and don't's and recommend that you find an obstetrician."

  "Thank you." Finding a doctor in Nowhere had been simple, as Dr. Records was the only one in town. She would make arrangements to transfer the children's medical records to his office now that she'd met him. "The doctor who delivered the twins is in Austin, but I'm not sure I want to drive seventy miles when I'm in labor."

  "I wouldn't recommend it." He scribbled on his prescription pad. "Most women around here use Connie Hoffman, an ob-gyn just south of here, not too far from Round Rock. Forty miles tops."

  "Thank you."

  "See her soon, all right? This baby is due November sixth, according to my calculations."

  "That seems so far away." But she wasn't complaining. She needed all the time she could get.

  "And welcome to Nowhere, Mrs. Larson. The town's been waiting to meet you."

  "They have?" She tucked the papers he gave her into her bag.

  "Sure. Everyone wants to know what you're going to do with that big house. I guess it used to be something, in its day. A few of the old-timers remember what it looked like, and said it was real grand. You don't know it, but you're the talk of
the diner right now."

  Addie smiled. If they only knew. "I'll have an open house when I'm finished working on it," she promised.

  "After the baby's born," the doctor cautioned. "You're a widow with five-year-old twins, and you need to conserve your energy. Do you have help? You're going to need to get enough rest these next months."

  "I have help," she assured him. "My mother's going to come up on weekends."

  His smile was kind. "I see from your chart, your husband died three years ago. Is the baby's father involved in this pregnancy?"

  "No." She slung her purse over her shoulder and slipped on her sandals. "Not yet."

  Later on, while driving the boys home from their exciting afternoon at their new school, Addie munched on crackers and told herself that everything would work out just fine. But why, when asked about this baby's father, had she added not yet? Cal McDonald seemed like a good man, but surely he didn't have to know anything about this baby

  Not yet, anyway.

  * * *

  "Have you ever done any thinkin' 'bout getting married, Calvin?"

  "What is this, Ask Cal Questions Day?"

  "Huh?" John lifted his baseball cap and scratched his balding head.

  "Never mind. The answer to your question is, no, I haven't." Not really. Not since eleventh grade, after having sex with Mary Devlin and thinking that married people got to do that all the time. And in a bed, not in the back of a Buick sedan.

  The old man's gaze turned to the main house. Addie's car was there, so she was back from town with the kids. "Not even now?"

  "No."

  "You might want to reconsider," the old man drawled, turning back to Cal. His grin almost split his face in half. "You've got some real potential here on the Triple J."

  "John, don't—"

  "Don't give me that, Cal. I seen the way you look at her, and it's not her cookin' you're thinking about, either. Marriage ain't so bad."

  "You're an expert?" He smiled and handed the old man a can of soda. "Here. You don't have to drink it here. You're welcome to take it home with you."