Reckless Promise (17 page)

From the way Tom and Alice had been snuggling
all day, maybe he didn't have to. Poppy and Tom hadn't been near
each other all day. Alice looked happy. No chance now, anyway, not
when the weekly cookout had them all hip deep in work.

And after that, Poppy. With any luck, he'd
end up spending the night in Poppy's cabin. The cookout always
ended with a moonlight ride back to the ranch, nice and romantic.
He tilted the bottle and let cold beer try to quench his
reaction.

He tamped down his impatience and glared at
the crowd. One of the problems with a dude ranch was the presence
of dudes. Having guests around meant staying in business, but it
also meant having to live your private life around the edges of the
guests' needs. He stooped to pull a bottle of beer out of the ice
chest sitting next to one of the picnic tables and popped the
cap.

He couldn't exactly say that all his doubts
about Poppy had been resolved. She still had a lot of secrets. But
she'd seemed so straightforward, so honest this afternoon, that
they didn't seem very important. The look in her eyes when she'd
wished for someone to see her as she really was had just about torn
him up.

And now she pitched right in, working as hard
as Chickie and Alice, just like she belonged here on the ranch. As
if his thought had conjured Poppy, she walked by carrying a tray of
hamburger buns.

"Hey." He took the tray and handed it to
Moses, who tended a grill full of sizzling burgers and steaks.
"You're a guest. You're supposed to be having fun, not
working."

"I am having fun. This is nothing like
working all alone in my lab."

He couldn't imagine her as a white-coated
science nerd. "Lab?"

She nodded. "Research. It's the only thing
I've ever wanted to do. But this is fun too."

Her eyes sparkled gold in the firelight and
distracted him from everything but her beauty, which he couldn't
mention without making her mad for some reason, or how much he
wanted her, which he also had better not mention. "Buy you a
beer?"

"Well-l..."

"Take a break. You don't want to be too tired
to dance." He meant to get her in his arms, one way or another.
Some nice, slow cowboy music couldn't hurt.

"Dance?"

"Sure. You know." He slid his arm around her.
"A chance to hold you close and whisper suggestive comments in your
ear. Save me a slow one?"

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with
mischief and mock outrage. "Maybe just one dance. And no beer. I
promised to help Chickie." She followed while he got her a soda and
led her to a chunk of log just big enough for two. "Aren't you
supposed to help too?"

"Guests are my job. Especially dancing with
them," he said, just to see those eyes glint gold with mock temper
again.

She ignored the teasing. "You do this every
week?"

"Yep. It's a real chuck wagon, too. My great
granddad used it on cattle drives."

"Real live history," she murmured. "I had no
idea. And I'll get to do it again next week."

"You're something else, honey. Tell me." He
leaned back, crossed his ankles, and addressed the toes of his
serviceable black cowboy boots. "Is the real Poppy Grayson the
flirt who hits on married men, or the cowgirl who likes trail
rides, or the woman who thinks work is fun?"

"Why do I have to be only one of those? Maybe
I'm all of them. Or maybe you haven't even seen the real Poppy
Grayson." She shot him a glare that could have peeled paint and
jumped to her feet. All the way to the chuck wagon, Mac could hear
her muttering. "...can't ever see the real me...don't know what I
have to do...men...all alike..."

He'd stuck his foot in his mouth that time.
In her fury, her hair all but shot off sparks when she stalked
across the open area that would be the dance floor after dinner.
Right now the inevitable kids crowded it along with a few good
natured ranch dogs, and a couple of male guests who needed to have
their teeth rearranged for the way they watched her switch
past.

She headed straight for the back of the old
chuck wagon where Chickie was setting out the huge covered bowls of
salad she'd fixed in her all-modern kitchen at the house.
Historical realism didn't cut a lot of ice with Chickie when it
came to cooking. Mac edged his way through kids and dogs until he
could settle onto a bench within easy listening distance of the two
women.

"Poppy, honey, you're a guest. You don't have
to do all the work," Chickie said.

Poppy laughed. "Oh, come on. If I help you,
maybe you'll get time for a beer—and maybe even a dance—with Moses.
You're not going to turn that down, are you?"

"Oh, go ahead, bribe me. I guess I wouldn't
mind a dance at that." Chickie handed Poppy a box filled with
squeeze bottles of catsup and mustard. "Maybe if you'd set those
out on the picnic tables..."

Poppy worked with Chickie as smoothly as if
they had practiced for years, and had the tables set up before
Moses had the barbeque ready.

"Pull up a chair," Chickie invited, waving
vaguely toward the closest picnic table. She grabbed a couple of
sodas from a cooler and handed one to Poppy. "You're some nice, you
know that?" she said, popping the top on hers.

Poppy kept her gaze on the can. "That's your
opinion. You've surely been nice to me. That makes it easy to be
nice to you."

She said it as though not very many people
had been. He couldn't imagine anyone being not nice to
Poppy...well, maybe Alice, if she didn't take her hostess duties so
seriously. But Alice and Tom seemed to have solved their problem,
whatever it had been.

"A lotta people thought you were goin' to be
a problem with Tom, but shoot, honey, I could tell you weren't
really after him," Chickie said.

"What? How?" Poppy sounded surprised.

"I've watched a lotta man-hungry women here
at the ranch. You made it look good, but there just wasn't any
heat. I don't know what you were up to, but..."

Mac shifted closer in the shadows. Well, he'd
wondered about that a couple of times. So what had been going
on?

Chickie looked out across the crowd. "Alice
sure has had a burr under her saddle the last few months. But she's
lookin' happy enough now. I guess everything's okay."

He certainly hoped so, too. Hearing that
Alice had been unhappy had been bad. But what did he know about
being married? His own not-nearly-short-enough venture into
matrimony didn't make him a poster child for happy marriage.

Poppy turned her head to follow Chickie's
gaze.

He lost himself for a moment, enjoying the
elegant line of her neck, then realized she watched Alice. His
sister drifted through the crowd, stopping for a few words with
each guest, drawing them into little groups, making sure everyone
got included. She stopped to talk to little Chrissie and her
mother, and to admire the baby.

"What in the world does she have to be
unhappy about?" Poppy asked. "She's got everything a woman could
want, I would think. She seems like a natural-born hostess. This is
the perfect job for her."

"Oh, sure. This is a dream come true for her
and Tom. Mac, too. But it's a little bit like bein' married to a
movie star. There's always women comin' on to your man in a place
like this. Alice's been real short about it lately."

He watched guilt chase embarrassment across
Poppy's face.

"Oh, dad-blast it!"

Chickie's exclamation drew Mac's gaze. She
glowered across the crowd at Moses. Correction. At Moses and a
woman. Brandi had unfortunately not left the ranch. She had draped
herself around as much of him as she could reach, and the look of
panic on his face made Poppy giggle. Mac was tempted to sit back
and enjoy the sight of the usually unflappable wrangler in such a
fix. But duty called, and he'd better get over there and smooth
things out before the darned woman started another scene. Another,
worse, full-blown scene.

"What does he think he's doin'?"

"Calm down, Chickie" Poppy said. "He's not
doing anything. She's the one—"

"He's not stoppin' her." Chickie's face
contorted with emotion.

Jealousy, or sorrow, or rage? He couldn't
tell. He'd bet on anger, given the cook's volatile nature.

"This's just more than a body can stand."
Chickie slammed down her drink and shot to her feet. "I'm gonna
give him a piece of my mind." She grabbed Poppy's hand and towed
her toward Moses.

"Wait. Let go. Not me." Poppy tugged to get
loose, but Chickie ignored her protests.

Mac jumped to his feet and followed,
wondering if the whole ranch had gone nuts. Well, the full moon
might have something to do with it, but he'd never seen Chickie
carry on like this. For all her yapping and sniping, she and Moses
were as tight a corporation as Mac could imagine. He'd never heard
a word of real dissension between them.

"I got a few things to say to that big
idiot," Chickie said, and pulled Poppy to a sudden stop behind a
bush.

Mac nearly ran over them in his hurry to not
miss a word.

"But I get all tongue-tied sometimes,"
Chickie went on. "I want you to stay right here and help me if I
get stuck for words."

Poppy looked dismayed. "But I don't know what
you—"

Chickie had gone.

Mac stepped up beside Poppy and put an arm
around her. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. Chickie saw Moses with Brandi
wound around him, and went postal."

Mac watched Chickie snatch the brunette's
hand off her husband's arm as if it were a snake. "She never gets
upset."

"Oh, yes, I can see that," Poppy said.

"Don't be sarcastic. I think I'd better stop
this. It has all the makings of a brawl, and this is supposed to be
a family place. Come on."

"Me? Leave me out of this," Poppy protested
as he dragged her along.

"...mine," Chickie said.

Mac grinned at the embarrassed wrangler.
"Having a little trouble, buddy?"

Moses gave him a weak grin.

Chickie glowered at the brunette.

Mac needed to do something, and fast. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw Alice starting to drift toward them.
And Tom. And the other guests were beginning to notice a scene in
the making. "You calm Chickie down," he said to Poppy. Now, what
the hell was this woman's name? It didn't matter. He put a hand on
her arm. "Come on, honey. I'll bet you need a beer, and a pretty
thing like you shouldn't have to drink alone."

He led her away, toward the chuck wagon and
handed the trouble maker over to the most wolfish of the men
currently in residence. He'd feel guilty about that later, if
necessary. And he'd alert Tom to keep an eye on them. Later. Right
now, he needed to get back to Poppy.

Chickie and Moses were faced off, right where
he had left them, with Poppy as an uncomfortable looking referee.
Tom had managed to divert the other guests. Alice hovered.

"...probably after every woman on the place.
I bet you even tried to make time with Poppy every time I turned my
back, you big ape."

"Hey," Poppy protested.

"Sorry," Chickie said without removing her
glare from her husband.

Moses's expression went blank with horror.
"I've never even looked at another woman," he told Chickie. "And
I've never lied to you. We don't lie to each other, ever."

Chickie rounded on Moses. "Well, you better
learn to keep your hands off other women if you don't want to eat
your own cooking, you big lummox. Pro—pro—" She turned to
Poppy.

"Promiscuity?" Poppy offered.

"Promiscuity is out," Chickie picked up.
"
Out
, if you ever want to see me and your son again."

Moses scowled. "I don't have any ki—" He
staggered as though Chickie had whopped him with a two by four.
"Son?" he said in a thready voice.

So Chickie was pregnant. "Well, that explains
the fireworks," Mac said.

Chickie rolled her eyes toward Poppy,
obviously panicked that she had let the cat out of the bag.

Poppy shrugged. "You're on your own with this
one."

Chickie turned back to Moses. "Son. Or
daughter," she said, and squared off at him. Underneath the
belligerence, Mac could see anxiety as she waited for her husband's
reaction.

He grabbed Moses's limp hand and shook it.
"Congratulations. You can blame everything on hormones for the next
few months. We'll leave you two alone now." Mac took a death grip
on Poppy's arm and towed her away at top speed. The sound of
Chickie bursting into tears added speed to his escape. A quick
backward glance showed Moses putting his arms around her.

He and Poppy got about thirty feet away from
all the mush before they ran into Tom and Alice, who looked
irritated and anxious, respectively. Damn. Too much emotional stuff
going on this evening. He cast Tom a look that said 'get us out of
here.' Tom made a helpless gesture.

Poppy glanced back over her shoulder and
smiled, a satisfied look of expectations fulfilled.

Mac turned to see what had caused the smile
and saw Moses and Chickie as a single shape against the firelight.
The look on Moses's face, turned down to Chickie, held an
expression of such heart-stopping tenderness that Mac felt like a
voyeur.

He glanced at Poppy and saw her swallow
hard.

"They're going to have a baby," she said, and
her eyes went misty.

"Hey, that's great," Tom said. "Just great.
Too bad they're going to be first, but what the hell. We'll catch
up. We better get busy, Alice. And we better hire some extra help.
Can't have Chickie overdoing now." He charged off to congratulate
Moses.

"Of course," Alice said to Tom's departing
back, and her voice held a note of such despair that Mac stared at
her. Her look of anguish seared him and he took a shocked step
toward her.

"Let's go see if Moses got the coffee
started," Poppy said, leading Alice toward the barbeque pit. She
jerked her head at Mac in a gesture that said very plainly, 'Get
lost, this is woman stuff.' He fled to the nearest group of men,
happy to obey.