Charlene Sands (3 page)

“I do. Remember when we were younger and we’d pretend we were all grown up, married with a baby. You were always so gentle and caring with your baby doll, like she was real.”

“The real thing is much scarier, I must admit. And my mama isn’t here to help me.”

Tess took a seat next to Laura, wrapping her arms around her in a loving embrace. “No, but you have me. I’m not a mother, but I think between the two of us we’ll figure it out.”

Laura smiled, reassured. “I’m so glad you came to Hayworth and we’ve remained good friends.”

Tess felt the same way. She’d never had a sister, but she was as close to Laura as one sister to another. “So am I. Even though I have to deal with Clint now. He’s bent on causing trouble.”

Laura’s smile remained, but she spoke with quiet regard. “How could he possibly cause you any trouble?”

Tess twisted her lips into a frown. “I think Clint’s middle name is Trouble. He’s sure good at causing commotion.”

When Laura appeared confused, Tess waved off the notion. She had suspicions, but they were, as yet, unfounded. “Never mind. He stampeded his way into the house yesterday, making accusations and demands.”

“Hmm, doesn’t sound like the young boy I once knew.”

“Hoyt would take on a sorrowful look when he spoke of Clint. He was proud of him and regretted what happened between them. If Clint earned Hoyt’s love and respect, then I’d say he must have changed quite a bit since then. He’s been…difficult.”

Laura spoke with warm reassurance. “He’ll come around, Tess. He needs to adjust to being back on the ranch. At one time he loved this home.”

“That’s just it—the ranch represents all the things he hates now, all the things he blamed his father for. There doesn’t seem to be anything here he wants, except to destroy Hoyt’s legacy.” Tess took a minute to explain Clint’s intentions to Laura, then added, “I won’t allow him to do that. He can stampede around here all he wants, but he won’t—”

“Stampede?” Clint’s rich voice broke up their conversation.

Tess tensed when she spotted him leaning up against the parlor doorway, listening in. But Clint’s harsh tone was gone, replaced by a smooth lilt. The sharp angles of his jaw softened with a rare smile as he entered the room. “Did I miss something? Sonny didn’t speak of a stampede.”

“Uh, no. There hasn’t been a stampede.” Unsettled, Tess feigned a relaxed pose and sipped her tea. Without the unbecoming scowl he usually wore, Clint appeared friendly and open, showing his best features, making him even more deadly handsome than before.

But Clint fully ignored her, keeping his eyes trained on Laura. He removed his wide-brimmed hat. “Tarnation, Laura. Is that really you?”

Laura rose and met Clint eye to eye. “It’s me, Clint. A little bigger than you remember me.”

“Ten years has only made you prettier. I heard you married.” He glanced down at her belly. “Tom Larson is a lucky man.” He opened his arms, and Laura, right as rain, walked straight into them.

They embraced for only a second, but the sting pinched Tess like a bumblebee and once again she felt like an outsider. She’d never known that true sense of belonging. Now, she was here and the Double H was her home. Nothing would change that. Theresa Metcalf was through running.

“You look well, Clint,” Laura said.

“I am well.”

“I’m sorry about Hoyt.”

Clint shrugged and changed the subject. “I hear your husband runs the
Herald
now.”

“He does. He was a born writer. But soon he’ll have another role.” Laura beamed with joy.

“Well, congratulations.”

“We’re both thrilled. I’ve longed for a family for quite a while.” Laura took her seat again. “Won’t you sit down? I’d love to hear about your life, Clint.” Laura glanced Tess’s way. “I’m sure Tess wouldn’t mind if you joined us for a while.”

Clint scratched the stubble on his jaw and looked at Tess. “I’m not so sure about that.” He fixed his hat onto his head. “I’d best be getting to work. There’s a mare that needs attention, ready to foal. Another time, Laura.” He tipped his hat to her. “I’ll be around.” He strode out of the room after Laura said goodbye.

“Oh, my,” Laura said a little breathless. “Tess, he’s—”

“Inconsiderate? Rude? Heartless?”

Laura’s expression radiated warmth. “He’s downright…delicious. Like one of Greta’s tarts. You know it’s a sinful indulgence, but you just can’t help yourself.”

Tess snorted, the sound completely unladylike, filled with disgust and annoyance at Clint’s ability to charm her best friend.

Laura’s bright laughter filled the room. “You have to admit he’s appealing.”

“Like a cooked goose I’m ready to slice into?”

Laura sank her teeth into the plum tart and closed her eyes to the decadent pleasure. “Ooh. These are good. And you know darn well Clint’s no cooked goose. What he plans on doing isn’t right or fair, but he must have good reason to believe so. If you two can manage to get along for more than a minute at a time, maybe you’ll begin to see eye to eye on things. I never knew a woman who couldn’t persuade a man when she really wanted to.”

Tess nearly choked on the plum filling she had in her mouth. “Are you forgetting that he’s my stepson?”

Laura waved that notion into thin air. “You know darn well that’s only a formality. He’s older than you. And I
can’t
believe you look at him with any sort of motherly concern.”

“Heavens, no.” The thought was absurd. She’d never once thought of Clint Hayworth in any other way but a man who made her nerves tingle and her heart race. But he made her angry and frustrated with his demands. He wasn’t kind or caring, and she’d already vowed not to let any man into her life who treated her with careless disregard. So, no, she’d never entertain thoughts of charming Clint into her way of thinking. “But I do know he’ll never be my friend.”

Laura took another bite of the tart and her expression was one of sheer joy. After she finished the dessert, she appeared deep in thought. “No, I doubt he’d want your friendship.”

“You see! That’s what I mean. He’s too stubborn—”

“What I meant,” she interrupted, picking up a second tart, “is that he’s a virile man and you’re both living under the same roof. Don’t tell me you haven’t had some thoughts about—”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Tess?”

“Okay, so maybe he’s not a stuffed goose. I’ll admit that he surprised me when I first met him. He’s a younger version of Hoyt.”

“And you loved Hoyt.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I think Clint is more like his father than he’d want anyone to believe.”

Tess could only shake her head in denial, but Laura had planted a seed. And if that seed was nourished, it might blossom into something Tess wouldn’t know how to deal with.

She’d never been any good in the garden.

“S
onny, hand me a cloth. This mare’s having a tough time.”

Clint bent in the stable stall and, taking the cloth handed him, he dipped it into the bucket of water and wrung it out. “Okay, now, girl,” he whispered to the frightened mare struggling to foal. “Take it easy.”

Clint smoothed the moistened cloth over the horse’s eyes, then up around her ears. “Calm down, girl. You’re about to be a mother.”

Clint looked into the horse’s eyes. He spoke with quiet calm, the voice he knew instilled trust in the animals he worked with. He touched her forehead now with his bare hands and whispered softly. His calm, his presence, set the mare at ease. He saw it in the way her shoulders slipped down from their clenched position, the way she laid her head down onto the straw bed, surrendering her struggle to Clint. “That’s it, girl. Relax.”

Clint scooted down along the horse’s flank, skimming his hand down along her side to reassure her. He took a look, putting his gloves on. “She’s straining hard. The foal’s hooves are pointing up. See the frogs and soles?”

Sonny stood at the horse’s rear, nodding his head. “Yep, that foal’s coming out backward.”

Clint reached in gently and helped guide the foal out, all the while speaking to the mare. “Easy, girl. I’ve got you now. Stay with me.” Then he felt a release, but not the one he wanted. “Damn, the cord broke! Sonny, go keep her calm. I’ve got to pull this foal out before she suffocates.”

Sonny held the mare down, talking to her, while Clint worked with the breech animal, gently pulling to get her out quickly. “Here she comes,” he said as he worked with the mare to guide the foal.

Once the foal dropped and was completely free of her mother, Clint waited for a few seconds. “Damn, she’s not breathing.” She didn’t move at all. He smacked her chest once with the flat of his hand.

Then he squatted and lifted her up and over his shoulder, keeping her head down. “Sonny, wipe out her mouth and nose. We’ve got to let her clear her lungs.”

“Here we go,” Sonny said, taking up the cloth. He wiped while Clint held the foal steady. “I hope this works.”

The filly started kicking her legs, struggling to get down. “We’ve got her,” he said, letting her down before she kicked him upside the head.

The filly wobbled on unsure legs. Clint breathed a sigh of relief.

Sonny slapped him on the back. “Good job, Clint. I don’t know if she’d have survived if you hadn’t been here.” Sonny wiped his hands on his pants. “Ah, I’m getting too old for this.”

Clint doubted that. Sonny was as tough as they come, a born rancher. And a damn fine foreman. “I learned a whole lot from you, Sonny.”

“Nah, I’ve never been good with the animals. Not like you. I heard you’ve made quite a name for yourself back in Houston area. You tamed some of the meanest and wildest stallions, then sold them for a high price.”

“Can’t deny that.” Clint bent over the mare. “What’s her name?” he asked, stroking the new mother’s mane.

“That’d be Sunshine. I think you’ve earned the right to name her filly.”

Clint looked up at Sonny. “The filly? Can’t be anything but…Lucky Girl.”

Sonny laughed. “A right good name.”

Clint made sure the mare and filly were doing fine before he headed for the house. He strode into the kitchen.

“Something smells awful good,” he said, sniffing the air.

Greta turned from the stove. “Clint, what do you do?” she asked, her voice laced with a heavy German accent. She’d been the one person to greet him with genuine affection when he’d returned home. Now she looked at his dirty clothes and sweat-stained face and scoffed, pointing her finger. “And you do not smell so
goodt!
”

Clint laughed. “That’s why I’m here. I need a bath. Gotta heat some water.”

Greta shooed him out of the kitchen. “I heat the water. You get out of the kitchen. Go! I bring it to you.”

Clint headed to the bathing room, removing his belt and unfastening the buttons on his shirt. He yanked himself out of the shirt, tossing it onto a hallway settee, then unbuttoned his trousers.

When Tess exited the office, she turned with a ledger in her hand and faced him in the hallway. “Oh!”

Clint stood, watching her. There were times when he couldn’t believe this young blue-eyed, copper-haired woman had been his father’s wife. His initial reaction to her always annoyed him. But, damn, she was a beauty. “Afternoon, Mrs. Hayworth.”

She glanced at his bare chest, then her gaze shifted to below the waistband of his pants that hung loosely on his hips. Her face colored quickly. The blush on her pale porcelain skin intrigued him.

“What are you doing walking around like that?”

Clint feigned innocence. “I’m about to take a bath. What’d you think?”

“A bath? Then undress in the bathing room.” She hugged the ledger against her chest. “You can’t…you can’t walk around half-dressed like that.” She swallowed and glanced away.

“Why in hell not?”

She returned her gaze to his face and spoke with forced patience. “No decent man would do such a thing when there’s a woman present. I don’t appreciate—”

“Last I checked, it’s half my house, half my ranch, and if I want to walk around
half
-dressed, you have no say so. I won’t be complaining if I catch you half-naked, Tess. Just return the courtesy.”

Her eyes flashed shock. She glimpsed his chest once more. Just having those pretty eyes on him caused a ruckus below his waist. He opened the door and entered before his father’s dear young widow saw how much the thought of catching her naked inspired him.

The next morning Tess dressed in her riding clothes—a flowing cream blouse and a buttery suede split skirt—fully determined to clear her head this morning with a brisk ride on her sorrel, Maple. She headed out the back door and walked to the stable.

After her encounter with Clint yesterday by the bathing room, she’d had a fitful night. She’d taken her dinner in her room, refusing to share a meal with a man who enjoyed mocking her far too much.

After his dreadful behavior, she’d come to a startling realization: Clint would do everything in his power to make her uncomfortable. The more she allowed him to bother her, the better he liked it. He had one goal in mind, and that was to buy out her share of the ranch so he could godlessly destroy what his father had worked so hard to build. He would try to wear her down. But Tess wouldn’t change her mind—no matter how many times she caught him half-naked in the hallway.

Lordy. That had been a surprise. Tess bit her lip remembering Clint’s body, so strong and solid, with muscles that looked like cords of oak and shoulders that spread wide enough to haul those cords anywhere he pleased. She blinked away the sight of his torso and those fine hairs leading a path past his unbuttoned trousers.

She’d spent half the night cursing him silently and the other half recalling the image he’d made, standing there with that insolent look on his face, as if daring her to look her fill and admire him.

She had admired him. His body but not what lay underneath.

Waving at a few of the ranch hands as she passed them in the yard, she halted when movement in one of the far corrals caught her eye—a new filly.

She grinned, happy to see new life on the ranch. She walked toward the corral but stopped up just short of the new mama and her baby, keeping her distance when she spotted Clint approaching the horses.

She watched and waited patiently just behind a shade tree. With his back to her, Clint entered the corral, and immediately the mare strode toward him. He put out his hand, and the mare accepted the carrot he offered. He spoke to her, and she nuzzled up against him. Clint chuckled, a low, deep, earthy sound that was clear and honest with no hint of mocking.

Tess reacted by inhaling a sharp breath.

When the filly sidled up against him with thin but steady legs, Tess could barely contain her frustration. Clint seemed to exhibit charm with every female in the county…but her.

“You through hiding back there?” Clint peered over his shoulder at her.

Tess stilled. She came away from the tree, feeling foolish. “I wasn’t hiding, for heaven’s sake.”

“Okay…you weren’t hiding.”

She could tell by his tone he wasn’t mocking her this time, but he didn’t quite believe her, either.

“Come see Lucky Girl.”

Tess forgot all about being caught by Clint when she gazed into the big, soulful eyes of the day-old filly. Her light brown coat reminded Tess of warmed cider on a winter night.

She entered the corral and walked over, putting out her hand. The filly stood still, wary of Tess’s movements. Lucky Girl shied away to stand behind her mama.

“Just stay still there a minute. She’ll decide if she likes you or not.”

Tess did as she was told. “Wish it were that easy with people. To just stand there and let them see you mean them no harm. Let them look into your eyes and see your true intentions.”

“Sometimes animals are smarter than people. Better instincts and better judges of character.” He stroked Sunshine’s nose.

“I can believe that where you’re concerned. You certainly misjudged me.”

Clint let go a
humph
deep in his throat before he turned to her. “I didn’t misjudge you.”

Tess raised her brows and her voice. “You really think I’m—I’m all those things you accused me of when you first arrived?”

“Easy now, Mrs. Hayworth, you don’t want to scare off the filly.”

“And
stop
calling me Mrs. Hayworth. We both know you’re not saying it out of respect but only to mock me.”

Clint grinned. “Should I call you Mother?”

Riled now, Tess lifted her chin and spoke quietly to keep the filly from running off. “Why do you enjoy taunting me?”

“You have what I want.”

His voice low and seductive, he looked deep into her eyes, then peered lower to regard her mouth. Tingles of awareness shot straight to her toes. “Do I?”

He turned fully toward her, folding his arms across his middle. He stared at her with those dark, piercing eyes for a long time, making her legs as wiggly as strawberry jelly. Tension sizzled between them. Tess didn’t imagine it. She could almost feel the heat coming off his body. Then he lifted a corner of his mouth. “The Double H, Tess. I want your half.”

She swallowed.

And was brought back to the moment.

Then anger struck her anew. “You’ll never get it.”

“I always get what I want.”

“Not this time,” she said with rigid determination. She turned and walked out of the corral, but something compelled her to turn around.

And when she did, her firm resolve crumbled instantly. Lucky Girl walked over to Clint and nestled her head into his chest as he offered quiet and kind words of encouragement. The filly lapped up his undivided attention, giving him her full trust.

Befuddled and truly in need of clearing the dust from her brain, Tess entered the stables.

She really needed a good, long, hard ride.

Tess mounted her mare just outside the stables as Sonny rode up, squinting against the bright sun. He tipped his brown felt hat, then lowered it farther on his head. “Morning, Miss Tess.”

“Good morning, Sonny. Looks like a good day for a ride. I’m taking Maple out for a little while. Mr. Stewart is coming to the ranch to give me his monthly report on the expansion of the Hayworth Emporium at noontime.”

“I’ll keep a lookout for him.”

“Thank you. But I’ll be back in plenty of time to meet him.”

Sonny nodded, then grinned. “You really should wear yourself a bonnet, Miss Tess. It’s gonna prove to be a real bright day.”

“Oh, I—” she stuttered, glancing at Clint with the new filly and her mama, “I meant to wear one, but I guess I forgot.”

“Hold on,” he said, climbing down from his mount. “I’ll get you one.”

And while he made his way into the barn, Tess couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting to Clint, working with the mare in the corral, earning the new filly’s trust and having himself a grand old time.

“Here you go. Try this one.”

Tess reached down and took the offered hat from Sonny. She adjusted it onto her head. It sat lower than the one Hoyt had ordered especially for her, but it would do. “Thank you. This will work fine.”

“It’s one of Clint’s. But he won’t miss it.” Sonny winked and slapped her mare on her rump.

Maple took her cue and walked forward in an easy gait, passing the corrals and a watchful Clint as they passed him by.

Once past the houses and outer buildings of the ranch, Tess settled back in the saddle and enjoyed the ride, fully in awe of the land before her. Mostly grazing land for Hayworth cattle, the acreage spilled out for miles. She still had trouble believing all this land was hers.

Well, not
all
hers. Half belonged to Hoyt’s son, and she wouldn’t forget that. She’d never wanted the land, the riches or the notoriety that came with being Mrs. Hoyt Hayworth. All she’d wanted was to live in peace with a man who’d treat her kindly. She’d had that with Hoyt. And she wasn’t ashamed that she’d fallen in love with an older man.