Promise Them (The Callahan Series Book 6) (3 page)

Over the next few weeks, Beau asked himself a hundred times if buying the ranch had been a mistake. Every day brought another crisis. His new bull got stuck in the pond. It took every hand on the ranch, plus a tractor to get him out.

Once out, the bull went nuts and ran through a fence and onto the Callahan spread. With Donovan’s help, they coaxed him back. Then there was the day it rained while Gordon was cutting hay. Donovan said they should have heeded the weather report and waited for clear weather. Instead, they had a field of cut, wet hay that couldn’t be baled until it dried. Even now it was losing its nutrients.

Another costly mistake.

Beau threw himself into his work, but his thoughts returned again and again to his children. Did they get jobs, or were they spending the last of their money foolishly? What would they do without funds? Without a roof over their heads? Would they come to him and try to get their old life back?

He didn’t think so. Both were proud. If only they could learn to be as independent as they were stubborn.

Today, Beau’s thoughts were dark; his voice surly when Gordon asked if Beau thought the hay had dried enough to bale. “You’re the foreman. Check it out.” Gordon turned to do as ordered. “If you screw up and bale it wet, it’s your job.”

Gordon didn’t acknowledge the threat. Instead, he mounted the tractor, gunned the motor, and took off.

“There goes another mistake,” Beau mumbled. But he didn’t know where he’d find someone to replace the man. The kid he’d hired, Joe Hammond, wasn’t experienced enough.

Beau let his gaze sweep over the horizon. Why had it been so important to take on sixteen hundred acres, plus a herd of cattle, and half a dozen horses at this stage of his life? He could have kept his comfortable home in Connecticut, kicked back, and enjoyed his retirement in peace.

Swinging into the saddle, he patted Taro’s head. Taro needed no further encouragement. He trotted out of the yard and started across the field.

Beau took a deep breath. The air was pure and bracing, everything quiet and peaceful. In the distance, he saw part of his herd and wondered at the sense of accomplishment they gave him.

He’d just had a country breakfast. He felt stronger than he had when he’d strode the senate halls or even his younger days when his thoughts were on how fast he could make another million. He soon learned that the more he made, the more he wanted. After declaring he had enough, he’d run for and won the senate seat. Soon, the behind-the-door deals had made him re-think his choice. One day, he woke to wonder how his lifestyle was shaping his children.

And didn’t like the answer.

As a kid, he’d loved to watch any kind of western movie or sit-com. The open plains called to him. When he opted out of the senate, his decision to satisfy that deep-seated desire to live on a ranch had seemed the perfect solution.

Rey and Dani would benefit from the change, he’d convinced himself. But the openness, the sky that went on forever, the deep sense of place, didn’t suit everyone. Tastes differed. Rey and Dani had hated the thought of ranch life.

Now, they were furious with him.

The thought brought a sting to his eyes.

Spurring Taro, he raced across the field, trying to rid himself of the thought that his children were lost to him. Not in the sense that he didn’t know where they were. They kept in touch with Lela. He knew they were still in San Antonio. He knew they’d rented an apartment in a low-rent district and had jobs. Dani worked at a restaurant; Rey captained a boat on the Riverwalk.

At least they were trying. That thought made him feel somewhat better. But how long would they last? Both liked to sleep late. Neither liked a fixed regimen. They had to be miserable.

That wasn’t what Beau wanted. He wanted them to be happy, to have a good life, enjoy life, while at the same time be independent enough to take care of their own needs.

He didn’t think it would happen. He’d waited too long. Slowing Taro, he studied the herd milling around the pond. His heart filled with sadness. Maybe if he’d brought them here years earlier when they were young enough to adjust and appreciate the ranch…

A calf’s bawl brought him upright in his saddle. Even after his short time on the ranch, he knew a cry for help when he heard one.

Edging his way through the cattle, he came to the water’s edge. “Not again,” he muttered. A young calf was in the pond and couldn’t get out, her cries loud and heart wrenching.

Beau jumped from Taro’s back and pulled out his cell. Gordon didn’t pick up. Neither did his wrangler, Joe.

Cursing, Beau sat down and pulled off his boots. How hard could it be to get one young calf out of a pond?

He soon found out.

An hour later, the calf was still stuck, and Beau was worn out. “Not as young as I thought I was,” he said, swiping at a fly that landed on his nose.

“Beau? What in the world are you doing?”

Startled, he looked up. Nell sat on a beautiful white-faced Palomino. She looked magnificent. And he was covered from head to foot in mud. That wasn’t the worst part of it. The calf was still stuck. This wasn’t a picture he wanted her to see.

“What are you doing here?” he asked a bit gruffly. He popped the calf on her rump. Again. She didn’t budge.

“I baked pies this morning and thought you might enjoy one.” She pointed to a basket tied to the saddle. “Looks as if you’re having a little trouble.”

“You could say that,” he said, scratching his head with muddy fingers. “She’s a stubborn one.

“Do you have a length of rope?” she asked as she slid to the ground.

“Not with me.”

“This might do.” She untied the basket from the saddle. “Hope it’s long enough. Catch.” She threw the rope.

He caught it with one hand, tied it around the calf’s neck, got in front of her, and pulled. Still nothing.

“I think this is a two-man job,” Nellie said, coming up next to him. She had pulled off her boots, rolled up her jeans, and splashed into the water to stand beside him.

“What are you doing? You’ll get as muddy as I am. Call Donovan. He won’t mind helping.”

“Since Donovan left for town an hour ago, that won’t happen any time soon.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll have her out in no time.”

Walking around him, she kicked up water with every step, until she was behind the calf. “I’ll push. You pull.”

Beau shook his head. He didn’t know another woman who would do such a thing. Who else wouldn’t care how dirty they might get? Or how wet?

Green eyes flashing with mischief, Nell grinned and pushed.

The calf pranced out of the mud as if going for a leisurely stroll.

“Damned calf.”

Nell laughed. Beau’s heart did that rolling thing again.

“They’re prone to do that, you know.”

“I’m learning,” he said as he pulled himself out of the pond, reached for Nell’s hand, and pulled her up beside him.

“Now you’re a mess.” Nell didn’t have a dry stitch on her. His mouth went dry, his heart pounding an uneven rhythm when he took in her perfect-for-him figure. His gaze drifted from her figure to her face. She had a dab of mud on her cheek. He swiped at it with his thumb—and fought the urge to kiss her.

She laughed again. “You should see yourself.”

Beau looked down at his mud-encrusted body. “I think I’ll take a swim.” He splashed back into the pond, paddling out until he came to clear water.

“Better?” Nell called out.

“Much. You should try it.”

“Think I will.”

The next thing he knew she was next to him, laughing and splashing water at him.

He felt like a kid as he splashed water into her perfect face.

Throwing back his head, he roared with laughter. Now he knew why he’d bought the ranch. Despite the problems, despite his grief over his children, he was right where he wanted to be.

Nell kicked off and headed for the bank. He grabbed her foot and hauled her back. Here was the woman he wanted to be with.

When she was next to him again, he was unable to stop himself. He pulled her close and kissed her.

Heat, swift and unexpected, shot through him.

He wanted her. He deepened the kiss; let the want spread.

Nell gasped. Pushed away. Looked at him with fear in her eyes.

Turning, she swam away.

“Nell. I’m sorry,” he called out. But she’d reached the bank, pulled on her boots, and was in the saddle before he could apologize properly.

Watching her leave was pure agony.

What had he done?

Chapter Three

Nellie was furious at herself. A man she hardly knew had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. What in the world had come over her? This wasn’t like her at all.

Nellie dug her heels into Casey’s flank. Horse and rider raced for home. For a swift moment there in the pond her body wasn’t hers. Evidently, neither was her mind. Despite the cool air rushing over her as Casey thundered back to the ranch, Nellie felt her face heat up.

What must Beau think? She’d acted like a wanton.

Tears fell down her cheeks. Anger dried them. She was almost sixty—a mother and grandmother. Where was her poise? Her control? Over the years, she’d prided herself on both. In a flash, she’d forgotten everything she’d fought so hard for the biggest part of her life.

The barn came into view, then the house. Had it taken only ten minutes to get here? It seemed like hours.

Slowing Casey, Nellie walked her into the barn and slid from the saddle. Her knees were so weak she had to hold on for a minute.

Jimmy, Donovan’s latest hire, ran to her. “Are you okay, Ms. Callahan? You’re all wet, and you look kinda pale.”

Jimmy was in his twenties, acted as if he were in his teens. Donovan said they were lucky to have him. The kid loved to work. It didn’t matter what chore he was given; Jimmy did it with a smile. Today he was mucking the stalls with that grin still in place.

Nellie wanted to smile back, but it froze on her face. “I’m fine, Jimmy, would you please tend to Casey for me?”

She must look a fright. How could she go inside and face Phyl and the children? They’d know in a heartbeat something was wrong. Slowing her steps, she took a deep breath, hoping to gather some calm. Some dignity.

Willing her legs to hold her upright, Nellie went into the kitchen. Susie was at the table with crayons and a stack of papers.

“Mom! What happened?”

Phyl rushed toward Nellie, her arms extended as if to catch her.

“I fell in the pond.”

“What?”

Nellie gave a small laugh, not sure it came out as more than a whimper. “Nothing serious, Phyl. I just need a hot shower and a little rest.”

“Are you sure? Besides being wet, you look pale. Did you faint? Maybe you’re sick.”

“I didn’t faint, and I’m not sick,” Nellie said as firmly as she could.

She walked past Phyl and didn’t stop to talk to Susie as she usually did. In the bathroom, she stripped rapidly and stepped into the shower. Even as hot water cascaded down her body, she couldn’t stop trembling.

She’d spent her life following a rigid set of rules. Rarely had she wavered. Not even years ago when Duncan died and she thought her life was over. Those rules had kept her sane in those dark days. But this was now, and today it was as if those rules had never been. She’d waded into that pond, flirted with a man she’d known only a few months, and kissed him.

Her childhood reared up and hit her in the face.

Nellie shivered. The water turned cool so she turned off the faucets.

As she stepped out of the shower, she caught a glimpse of herself in the floor length mirror. Who was that woman? Her red hair, with a few gray streaks, was a short, tangled mess, her eyes wide and wild. And her body? She examined herself closely; something she hadn’t done in years. She was still thin, at least that hadn’t changed, even though her skin sagged in places. Turning, she checked her behind. Not as bad as others she’d seen. Not that great either, she reminded herself. The curves and hard muscles of her youth were gone. But her legs were okay.

Grabbing a robe, she wrapped it around herself and dried her hair. Why did she care what her body looked like? She’d had a good husband, raised five children. Good children, too. The contrast of hers and Beau’s came to mind.

One more glance in the mirror. She had no business caring what her body looked like as long as she kept it healthy and clean.

Mucking around in a pond with a neighbor she barely knew didn’t fall into either category.

No, it fell under the very category the Fraziers had warned her of so long ago.

She wouldn’t think about it now. What was done was done. She would apologize the next time she saw him and forget today ever happened.

So why did she still taste him? Still feel his hardness. Oh yes. Hardness. She’d felt it right through her jeans and straight to the part of her she’d been sure had died with Duncan.

Letting out a long sigh, Nellie lay on the bed and wrapped a blanket around herself. Shutting her eyes, she saw the scene again. Beau laughing at her from the pond, teasing her as they splashed water at each other, the intensity of his gaze before he kissed her.

Beau was a handsome man. A big man. At six feet, he had to weigh almost two-hundred-pounds, and not an ounce of fat anywhere.

Before he bought the ranch, he must have had dozens of women after him. Maybe there was still one out there waiting for him to get over his ranch fever.

None of that mattered. His life was his no matter who else was in it.

Guilty. She felt so guilty. As if she’d done something terribly wrong.

She couldn’t stop her thoughts as they took her back to her foster home where the voices of the Fraziers, her foster parents, grated at her every chance they got. It started the first day she went to live with them. The constant reminder she could do nothing right. The taunts. The jibes. She’d never lived on a ranch before, or done ranch work. But she’d done everything asked of her on their small ranch and more. Until the day Mr. Frazier had found her in the barn with the young man they’d hired to help for the summer of her fifteenth year, her fifth with the Fraziers. She never knew his real name, only that he called himself Buck. He was probably only eighteen, but to Nellie’s inexperienced eyes, a man of the world. They’d exchanged a few words here and there over the six weeks he’d been working there. Maybe a shy smile now and then.