Teaching the Cowboy (19 page)

“Well, when John hired Anna, I guess Becka’s competitive spirit got ratcheted up a bit. Best you put a stopper in it as soon as you can. It gets tedious after a while.”

Anna growled as she handed Dad the electric carving knife.

John shifted his stare to Ronnie. She was twirling an onyx ring around and around, lost in her own thoughts. The ring spurred thoughts of his own. What would happen if he did manage to convince the woman to marry him? Would she take on the brunt of all that social shit with grace, or would it scare her off? She might have been a socialite back in North Carolina, but in Wyoming, she was being tossed into a whole new scene. Her only audience was his staff. The only prize for her performance his attention. She wasn’t really cut out to be a ranch wife, but neither was Charlene for that matter.

Ronnie shifted an arm to wrap it around the back of Liss’s chair, and toyed with the child’s hair somewhat idly while she stared at her plate. Liss beamed up at her. Ronnie woke up from her reverie, grinned at Liss, and made a silly face. The longer she and Liss stared at each other, the more their facades cracked. Eventually they laughed. Ronnie held her a bit tighter and some unreadable emotion flitted across her face.

No, Ronnie didn’t fit the mold, but maybe this time that’d be a good thing.

Chapter Fifteen

L
andon adjusted the screen of his laptop back to shift the glare from his glasses Phil must have been seeing on his end. “Thanks for putting up with me. I know this was last minute, but it’s the last tour date of the year. I just want to make sure it’s the place for me before I send those forms in.”

Phil reached for the knot of his tie and started to loosen it. Landon’s gaze dipped down to watch the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he loosened the constraint. His compulsion was to sink his teeth into the nearby flesh and taste the salt of Phil’s sand-colored skin. Thank goodness there were nearly two thousand miles between the two of them. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. If a flaming queer like me can survive there, I’m sure a cowboy can.”

Landon forced a chuckle. “I wouldn’t say flaming.”

One corner of Phil’s mouth quirked up. “Well, maybe not. I’m not exactly subtle about it, though, much to Ronnie’s embarrassment.”

Landon stomach lurched and he swallowed. “Why is she embarrassed?”

Phil loosened the top button of his shirt and put his back against the kitchen chair. “She’s not embarrassed by what I am, but how I present myself. Ron’s a prude.”

“Oh.” Relief washed over him. He needed Ronnie on his side, because he was sure his father wouldn’t be.

“So, how is that uptight chick? I haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks.”

“Starting to show, but hiding it. I guess I’m the only who’s noticed since I’m the only one who knows to look.”

Phil forced a breath through his lips and raked his hair back from his face.

Landon itched to run his fingers through it, to hold on tight, draw him closer. He tightened his hands into fists and tried to think chaste thoughts.

“If Ronnie finds out I told you, she’s going to scalp me and leave my pretty head on a stake for the world to see as an example.”

“Trust me, I haven’t said anything to anyone, and that’s been insanely difficult. This isn’t just some random baby, you know? It’s my sister. Dad is going to go ballistic when he finds out.”

“Well, good. Maybe if the guy screamed at her once or twice she’d get her head out of her ass.” Phil’s gaze flicked downward to something on his screen. “Conference call. Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Mommy, she’s flashing you.” Doc giggled and pointed to what was ostensibly a baby rump on the ultrasound screen.

“Still a girl, huh?”

“Yup.” Doc shut off the screen and pushed the device’s cart toward the corner. “She looks good. Placenta isn’t as low as I thought. I think your bladder might have been in the way last time. You getting any sleep now?”

Ronnie wiped goop off her belly, sat up, and fastened the buttons of her flannel shirt. It was a near replica of a non-maternity shirt she’d owned, and when that one got too tight to be discreet, she’d replaced it with one that had some slack. No one had called her on it yet. “Some.”

“I’d like it if you’d gain some more weight now that the nausea has stopped. Are you eating well?”

Ronnie laughed. “You have no idea. I’ve got two households trying to shove food down my throat at any given time, and also access to the crew chow houses. Oh, and the ladies at church sometimes bring me fattening casseroles. Mostly they do it because they like visiting with the latest gossip. Why, I do not know, but the casseroles make a good excuse.”

Doc opened a drawer under the counter, rooted around, and handed Ronnie a granola bar. Ronnie sighed and opened it.

“Your blood pressure is really low.”

“Always has been. My mother told me to consider it a blessing. Got a lot of heart disease in my family.”

“This may sound weird, but try to get a bit more salt. It’ll keep your electrolytes balanced and you won’t get dizzy so much. You’ve been dizzy, right?”

Ronnie nodded and took a bite of the edible sandpaper. “Blech.”

“How’s your back?”

“A mess.”

“Sorry. It’s ’cause of where she’s planted. She’s putting some pressure on your spine and sciatic nerve. It’ll get worse before it gets better. I hear yoga helps, so you might want to try that.”

Ronnie turned her face toward the white drop ceiling with a groan. “I’ll take a look at the Storafalt rec center listings and see if they’re offering anything beyond doily making.”

“No need to get surly. Order you one of those DVDs and that way you can do it on your own time.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Have you figured out yet what hospital you’re going to want to deliver at? I know it’s early, but you’re going to need to get pre-registered and signed up for classes, that kind of thing.”

Ronnie stopped chewing. “I don’t even know where the closest hospital is. It’s never come up.”

“You could always have her at home. Wouldn’t be able to have a midwife there, though. Illegal here.”

Ronnie wrapped the remnants of the bar in its wrapper and stuffed it into her shirt pocket for the ride home. “Well, that’d be fitting since that’s where her father was born.” She wished for Mrs. Lundstrom’s counsel during a moment like that. Her own mother was still blissfully in the dark about the upcoming arrival.

“Worth looking into. The alternative is to camp out near the hospital whenever you think you’re getting close. Get a short-term apartment or whatever, and hang out there three weeks before you’re due until you have the baby. Women in your family go short or long?”

“I was born right on my due date. That’s all I know.”

“Find out. Still need some info from you about your family history for preeclampsia and gestational diabetes.”

Shit. How am I going to get that?
“I’ll get it before next time.”

“No, call as soon as you get it. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Right.”

Ronnie edged down off the table shrugged into her down coat. As she made her way out of the office, she waved to the ladies behind the counter, and put her hood up to guard against the freezing wind. Snow was coming. She hoped Landon’s flight was running on schedule and would beat the ice before its arrival. She happened to know that in North Carolina on November twenty-ninth, it was a balmy sixty degrees.

“Ronnie, Ronnie. Honey, it’s fine. His flight just landed. I’m sorry if the airline website isn’t updating the way it’s supposed to. I actually parked the car and am standing in front of the gate right now. I guarantee you he’s alive. Why are you so hysterical?” Phil studied his nails as Ronnie tearfully prattled on, not making a damn bit of sense. What had happened to his friend? The reasonable, levelheaded schoolteacher?

Oh, yes. John Lundstrom happened.

Feh. Men.

“I know you’re attached to Landon, whether you want to admit it or not. He’s not just a student for you. He’s practically your stepson.”

Ronnie said something in a long undulating shriek Phil supposed was words, but he couldn’t really tell.

“Honey, don’t worry your hormonal little head. I’ll get him to his tour and to his interview and back to the airport on December first. Yes, I know it’s kind of me.”

Phil pushed through some of the crowd idling near the gate to make himself more visible and craned his neck toward the corridor to see if the passengers had started unboarding.

“Are you flying home for Christmas? Call your mother and let her know. She says you’re not taking her calls.”

Ronnie responded that she wasn’t taking
anyone’s
calls because she was afraid to give anything away, but while she had him on the line, could he possibly discreetly find out whether her mother had any pregnancy issues?

“Bye, honey. I see the bespectacled mop-top now. I’ll talk to you—”

Phil sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, hold on.” He muted the phone and when Landon approached, wearing a big white grin, bigger than someone who’d just spent half a day travelling should have had, and he put his arms up for a hug. Landon stepped into it and wrapped strong arms around the man’s back and lingered there for longer than was friendly.

When Phil pulled back, Landon opened his mouth to say something, but Phil put up one finger and said, “Wait. Your sibling gestator beckons.” He unmuted the phone and handed it to Landon.

“Hi, Ronnie.”

Phil raised a brow. He didn’t remember Landon’s voice being that deep. It was always hard to tell what people really sounded like over Skype, but had it been that deep when he was in Wyoming back in July?

Phil touched Landon’s upper arm gently and nodded his head toward the exit to get them walking.

“Yeah, I’m here. Ears are killing me. Pretty sure something in my head exploded on the descent.” He chuckled at whatever Ronnie said on her end.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call Dad when I get to the hotel. Oh, that’s Liss in the background? What’s she doing, stalking you?”

Phil grunted. That sounded like Ronnie. She was a little kid magnet. Always had been. They used to follow her around the neighborhood, and since she was so tenderhearted back then, she’d stop whatever she was doing and sit on the ground and play with them. It’s probably what steered her toward working in education. That same sort of thing was what steered Phil
away
from teaching. He was a bit of a cheerful misanthrope.

Landon looked over at Phil and mouthed, “She’s doing her hair.”

“Ah.”

“Tell her I love her. All right. Bye.” Landon handed the phone back. “She’s getting more and more stressed.”

“I can tell.” They passed through the automated doors into the parking deck and Phil led Landon, dragging his carryon, toward a staircase. “I hate to see what she’ll be like at the end of the pregnancy if she’s this anxious now.”

“Well, at least we all know now she’s maternal.”

“You were worried about that?” At the top of the staircase Phil held up his key fob and pressed the alarm button. A blaring bleating pattern sounded from the far end of the deck. “Ah. That way.” He pointed left.

“A little. I’ve had some teachers in the past who didn’t have a maternal bone in their bodies. They knew how to teach, but they weren’t necessarily good with kids. I think that’s why Peter was doing so bad.”

Phil opened the trunk of his silver convertible and took Landon’s bag from him.

Landon whistled low. “Nice car. What exactly do you do for a living again?”

Phil winked. “I sell drugs.”

“Oh. Right.” Landon pushed his glasses up and assessed Phil from the tips of his brogues up to the open collar of his button-up shirt. “Drug dealers are getting better looking.”

Did he just…?

Phil shrugged off the comment. Trying to read between lines was a dangerous game. “Pharmaceuticals. I talk doctors into prescribing brand-name drugs patients probably don’t need.”

“And that’s lucrative?”

Phil held out his hands, palms-up. “Only if you’re good.”

One corner of Landon’s mouth quirked up into a grin. A damned sexy grin, not that Phil was paying attention to such things. “And you’re good?”

“I’m damned good.”

“Well, you can buy me dinner, then.” Landon closed the car trunk and sauntered to the driver’s door, all long-limbed and cowboy booted sexy not-quite-jailbait.

Do what now?

Landon held up a hand as if to catch. “I’ll drive, if you don’t mind. I bet this car handles like a dream.”

Phil shifted his weight.

Landon made a
gimmie
gesture.

Phil tossed him the keys.

What the hell is going on here
? he wondered as he opened the passenger door of his own car. Phil wasn’t even sure he wanted to find out. Well, he did. He wanted to find out about every delightful inch of the man who’d been galloping through his thoughts since that very first grin at the Ericksons’. Only problem was Phil didn’t have a death wish. He already knew that if he touched Landon, Ronnie would kill him. Screw John. There wouldn’t be anything left for him to kill when she was done.