MADE IN TEXAS Read online

  "It's the heat, Miss Addie. You're just not used to wanderin' around in this kinda sun." John replaced her light wicker hat with his own Stetson. "We're gonna get you in the house and turn up the AC and get you a nice cold drink." He took the boys' hands. "Come on, fellas, let's go."

  What she got was Cal McDonald guarding her bed for the rest of the day.

  * * *

  Touch of the flue, crackers, bad back, fainting. She could see the wheels turning in her mother's head as Paula stared at her from across the table. Addie dropped her gaze and studied the chicken on her plate as if it was a piece of art.

  "Really?" Paula drawled. "Mommy fainted today?"

  "Yep." Ian, who would certainly grow up to be a television reporter, continued ratting on his mother. "She got all funny looking, and Mr. John called Mr. Cal."

  "She just got a little too much sun," John declared. "She needs a better hat. I told her, you need a better hat, gal, one that keeps the sun off your head."

  "Yeah," Matt said. "That's what he said. A better hat."

  Addie reached for her iced tea. "I'm sure that in this heat I should be drinking more liquids." To prove that she meant what she said, she took a large swallow of iced tea.

  "And then," Ian announced, determined to continue on with his little news scoop, "Mr. Cal had to take Mom to bed."

  Addie choked and reached for her napkin. She didn't dare look at Cal, who had the ability to look amazingly innocent when he wanted to.

  "Well, that was nice of him," Paula told her grandson. "Very nice, Mr. Cal. I'm sure Addie appreciated the help."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said. "She wasn't doing too well."

  "And how are you feeling now, Adelaide?"

  Adelaide. Mom was highly aggravated, so Addie chose her words carefully. "Much better, thank you."

  "She took a nap," her budding Dan Rather informed everyone.

  "A very long nap," Matt added. "Mr. John took us for a ride in his truck and we counted the calves all afternoon. Until we got hungry, and then we went to Mr. Cal's house and had peanut butter crackers and ice cream."

  No wonder they weren't hungry for supper. Peanut butter and ice cream didn't sound too bad at all.

  "And what about you, Mr. Cal?" her mother continued. "Did you count cows, too?"

  "He stayed here," Ian explained, puffed up with the weight of all his knowledge. Addie realized she'd given birth to traitors. "In case Mom needed anything."

  "Now, now. Cal couldn't leave her alone," John added, his gaze darting from Paula to Addie and back again. "Not feeling well and all."

  "No, of course not," her mother said, piercing a piece of potato salad with her fork. "Maybe you should see a doctor, Adelaide."

  Cal spoke for the first time in a while. "Maybe that's a good idea. You sure didn't look too healthy this afternoon. You're working too hard, I think."

  "Yes," she said. "That must be it. I've been too busy working on the house. What do you think of the new curtains, Mom?"

  "Very nice," her mother said, glancing toward the yards of red toile that decorated the long windows and French doors on the wall behind the table. The added wing gave an appearance of a courtyard out those north windows, and Addie had plans to landscape it in the summer. It would be a perfect spot for the children to play. A perfect spot for a baby to sleep in his or her carriage.

  Her carriage, Addie hoped.

  "Addie?"

  She blinked and tried to figure out who had just spoken to her. "Yes?"

  Cal cleared his throat. "Have you had a chance to look over the accounts yet? There's an auction on Monday where I might be able to pick up some more calves."

  "Sure." She nodded as if she remembered what he was talking about. Every time she tried to read about live stock prices and profits and losses in Cal's scrawling handwriting, she became so sleepy she thought she'd fall over at the desk.

  "You haven't read my recommendations," Cal declared. "I thought you wanted to learn all about cows?" She could tell from the slight curve of his lips that he wasn't upset. Her mother stared at her.

  "Why would you want to learn about cows?" she asked.

  "Because I own a ranch."

  "Two weeks ago you were talking about turning this place into a bed-and-breakfast, now you're Barbara Stanwyck?"

  "Who's that?"

  John shook his head. "Aw, missy, she was a big movie star. Then she went on TV and had a ranch and a mess of sons and all sorts of trouble."

  "She wore great clothes," Paula added. "She had a tiny waist, and could wear jodhpurs and riding skirts and still look beautiful. I wonder how old she was when that show was on."

  "Is she still alive?" John picked up the bowl of potato salad and helped himself to another spoonful. "Miss Addie, you must be feeling better if you can cook like this."

  "Thank you. Do you want some more chicken?" She picked up the platter of oven-fried breasts and passed it to her mother. "Mom?"

  "Oh, I think Barbara Stanwyck is dead," Paula murmured, giving her daughter an assessing look. A look that could pierce through lead. "But she had a lot of children to help run that ranch of hers, at least on television."

  Addie kept her expression carefully blank. "Who would like more coleslaw?"

  "That show's still on," John informed them. "All those old shows are still on TV, on the satellite dish. Your dad was sure fond of that dish of his. Claimed it was the best invention known to man."

  "Too bad he used a remote control more than a telephone," Paula muttered.

  "Some men aren't good communicators, Miss Paula," the old man declared. "Ed had his faults, all right, I won't disagree. But he didn't have no easy time of it growin' up, so I guess some things just didn't get learnt."

  "I guess they didn't," Addie's mother agreed, as she helped Matt cut up his chicken. "He wasn't much of a talker."

  "No, ma'am."

  "That might run in the family, don't you think, Addie?"

  She smiled. Or at least she attempted to stretch her lips over her teeth and look happy. "You don't seem to have any trouble holding up your end of the conversation, Mom."

  "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart." Addie dared a glance toward Cal. The man looked perfectly calm, despite being busy rescuing Ian from spilling his milk into his dinner plate. The man had the reflexes of a cat. He hadn't minded when she'd spilled her drink on him that night at Billy's. Maybe in those places he'd grown up there'd been a lot of messes, a lot of little scared kids knocking over things.

  He would have helped them. It was second nature to him, she saw, to reach over and open a jar of jam or cut up a piece of chicken or move a glass of milk away from the edge of the table.

  He was skilled in other ways, too, with those hands of his. She hadn't forgotten yesterday, the way he'd smoothed her hair or held her face when he'd kissed her. Or today, when he'd carried her to the house and held her in his lap in front of the air-conditioning because he was afraid that she would fall off a chair if he let her sit there by herself.

  She'd been on her own for so long, she'd forgotten what it was like to have someone worry about her. Other than her mother, which was, of course, totally different. She dared a glance toward Paula, who was eyeing her as if she suspected Addie had spent the afternoon in the middle of a cowboy orgy.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  «^»

  Paula waited until she had kissed her darling grandsons and tucked them into bed before cornering her daughter downstairs for a private conversation. Ah, yes. She could smell guilt a mile away. Addie was nothing if not guilty, all right. She sat in that brand-new, maroon leather chair in Ed's freshly painted den and looked as sweet as candy.

  Paula sat on the matching couch and moved several Lord of the Rings action figures over to a side table before she looked at her daughter again. "Well, Addie? What do you have to say for yourself?"

  "About what?"

  "You know what." She watched the stubborn chin lift, and the lips tighten. Well, it did
n't matter. Addie could get herself in a snit, but it was about time they had a talk. All this fainting business had to stop.

  "Just because Cal McDonald was in my bedroom this afternoon doesn't mean we were doing anything wrong. Not that it is any of your business if we were." It was said gently, from a woman who sounded tired. From a woman who had something to hide?

  "I don't care if you were entertaining the Dallas Cowboys, my darling, as long as your sons were out of the house when you were doing it," Paula fibbed. She hadn't raised her daughter to behave in a wanton manner, and she didn't think that Addie would cavort with a cowboy she barely knew if she wasn't seriously attracted to him. Addie had never been the boy-crazy type, not even in her teens. "Your sex life is your own concern, I suppose, as long as it didn't end up on the front page of a newspaper somewhere, but—"

  "Why would my sex life be in a news—"

  "Never mind." Paula held up a hand. "I didn't mean to get off on a tangent. Do whatever you want with Cal, I guess. In your bedroom or in your barn." She stopped to sigh. Maybe it wasn't right to set such an example for the boys, but she could understand Addie's attraction to the handsome rancher. And the man clearly adored her daughter. The way he looked at her would melt steel.

  "Mom? I don't want to talk about Cal, and it's been a long day, so I'm going to bed and—"

  "Not so fast there, missy," Paula said, not about to be denied. "I'm talking about your health, not your sex life. Dizzy spells? Throwing up in Mr. Anders's flower pot? Car sickness? Eating crackers? What does all this remind you of?"

  "The flu?"

  "The flu, my ass." She eyed her daughter, who gulped and didn't say another word. The silence said enough, though, and it was all Paula needed to hear. "I've been running dates in my head for the past couple of hours," she said. 'This must have happened some time last winter."

  "February," Addie said, looking as white as the window trim.

  "That night you went out with Kate?"

  "Yes."

  "Good heavens, were you drunk?" She remembered Addie's unwillingness to discuss her evening the next morning. She'd looked pale and tired, as if she'd been crying and she hadn't slept. Going out with Kate hadn't been much fun, Paula had assumed. Men weren't what they used to be, and the few good ones weren't hanging out at Billy's bar on Valentine's Day.

  "A little. But that wasn't why it happened."

  Paula leaned back against the plump cushions and closed her eyes. Well, at least Addie wasn't dying of stomach cancer or suffering from some horrible illness. She was pregnant, and the world would go on spinning. Paula took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "All right, then. Who was he?"

  "I'd rather not go into the details."

  "The name of the baby's father isn't exactly a detail," Paula pointed out. "More like a vital piece of information."

  "He was just a man in a bar. I didn't know his name."

  Paula sighed. It was worse than she had thought, then. She sat quietly for a moment while she thought about the whole mess. "I can't believe you didn't protect yourself. With all the diseases going around, never mind getting pregnant, for heaven's sake, Addie—"

  "I'm not a total idiot. We used a condom, but the only thing I can think of is that it was defective." Addie groaned. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my mother."

  "You're not the only one who can't believe this. When is this little bundle of joy due?"

  "Mother, please."

  Paula sighed. "I'm sorry. It's going to take me a little time to get used to this."

  "You and me both." They sat in silence for a long moment before Addie answered the question. "November sixth."

  "You've been to a doctor, then."

  "In Nowhere. And I have an appointment with a new gynecologist next month."

  "And in the meantime? You're okay?"

  "Just suffering from the usual morning sickness, though this is tougher than the last time." She made a face and caressed her flat abdomen. "Maybe this one's a girl, Mom. It already feels different."

  "That would be nice," Paula admitted, allowing herself a small smile. But there wasn't much to smile about. Addie already had her hands full, with this big house and two active boys. "Thank goodness you have money now. You have a roof over your head and some security."

  "And I have you." Addie grinned at her.

  "But a mother is a poor substitute for a husband," Paula felt it necessary to point out. "So I suggest you start figuring out how to get one."

  * * *

  A husband was the last thing Addie wanted. But love? Well, she would like to be loved again. But she didn't think that was going to happen, maybe not until the children were grown up and their mother had time to take a shower without worrying about whether they were getting into trouble.

  Long after she'd escaped from the den and her mother's worried expression, Addie lay in her oversize bed and contemplated the mess she was in. She would be showing in another month or so, something she could disguise with baggy shirts and elastic-waist blue jeans. But now that Paula knew, there was no one to hide the news from except the baby's father, and he was sure to question the pregnancy and his role in it. He had a right to, of course. There was no getting around it, no matter how much easier it would be to wish that he would get into his truck and drive off to Montana or Mexico, or anywhere far from here.

  She would have to tell him. She would have to make it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing from him. She needed no child support or legal settlements, and she certainly didn't expect him to raise a child that was an accident between strangers. Surely he would have been married by now if he'd been inclined to settle down.

  She imagined her attitude would come as a relief, she decided, quickly quashing any thoughts of custody agreements or anything messy. Now that she'd gotten to know him, she didn't think Cal would deliberately cause problems. He was more the kind of man who helped a woman get out of trouble, and she was afraid she liked him too much. Otherwise she could fire him, write a check for a year's salary and wave goodbye. He'd never know about the child.

  But she couldn't do that. Not now. He had a right to know.

  And she would tell him. Eventually. But she had to stop kissing him, first. Had to resist that physical attraction that pulled them together whenever they were in the same room.

  And she already knew what kind of trouble that caused. She needed to keep her legs together and her clothes on whenever Cal McDonald was around. She wasn't going to fall for a self-proclaimed hermit and confirmed bachelor. No way.

  * * *

  "Seems to me," John drawled, "if anyone was asking, I'd say that things just couldn't get any better."

  "And how do you figure that?" Cal released the calf and watched it race across the corral to its bawling mother.

  "Well, there's a real pretty woman in that ranch house now," the old man pointed out. "Seems like a young man might be interested."

  "Yeah?" He coiled the rope and slung it over his shoulder. He'd had enough of doctoring animals for one day, but this year's calves looked damn good. That bull he'd talked Ed into buying had turned out to be a good investment.

  "She needs a man to help her out around here," John continued, opening the gate for Cal. "You're single and she's single. Seems natural to me."

  "She wants to turn this place into a bed-and-breakfast," Cal pointed out. "Some kind of showplace. I don't think that includes cows, not from the way she's talking about profits and losses and old Ed's methods of ranching. And if it doesn't include raising cattle, then I'm out of here."

  "You could talk her out of it."

  "It's not my place to talk her into, or out of, anything." Cal headed back to the barn, John following close behind. "It's different for you," he told the old man. "You've got your place for life, and you've got a pension. I've got six months—four, now—and then I can leave. She can fire me anytime she wants—"

  "But she won't," the old man declared. "I can't handle this place by myself."
<
br />   "If she gets rid of the cattle, you can. You can keep a few of the best horses for the kids, and hire a teenager to help you with the heavy stuff on weekends. You'd be fine."

  "And where would you be?"

  "I have some money saved," he said. "I can probably figure out how to get a small place. Or I can get a job on another ranch, just like you said."

  The old man swore. "This ain't right," he grumbled. "You and Miss Addie are two healthy, young folks who could make a damn fine couple."

  "She's out of my league."

  "No way. Why don't you give that little gal a break and take her out to eat somewhere nice? She's been working herself half to death on that house, and she's fed us some damn fine meals, too. Hell, I'd be glad to take her out myself."

  Cal grinned. "Well, you should go right ahead, John. Just ask her."

  "I think she'd rather go out with you. But I'll take care of the boys," the old man declared. "That'll be my contribution."

  "I'm not interested," he lied. "She's the kind of woman who wants a ring on her finger and a husband in her bed."

  "Well, of course she does!" John turned red and started to huff. "She's a respectable young woman. And you'd make a damn fine husband, Cal. No matter what you say. She looks at you like you make the sun rise, you know."

  He didn't know.

  "And," John continued, "those little boys worship the ground you walk on. And you can't tell me that you don't like her, cuz I've seen you watching her, too. And you carried her up to her bedroom and took care of her when she was sick."

  "Anyone would do that." Cal put away the medical supplies and checked on the horses, with John still following in the dimly lit barn.

  "Maybe. At least take her out somewhere nice and see how she's feeling."

  "All right," Cal conceded, knowing that the old man wouldn't quit until he heard the answer he wanted: Cal would take Addie out to dinner. But maybe it was time he left here, before things got any more complicated. He liked Addie a hell of a lot more than he wanted to admit. There had been something about her that night at Billy's, something that made him come out of his shell and carry the woman to bed. He'd wanted to make love to her and dance with her and protect her with his life.