The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby (14 page)

Riding out to see how the cattle had weathered the latest storm gave him plenty of time to consider his options. Or it would have if Harlan Patrick had stopped pestering him for more than five minutes at a time.

“I still can’t get over that kiss you gave Trish last night,” he said, bringing it up for the second time
in less than an hour. “Right there for all the world to see. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Instinct, huh? Fascinating.”

“Drop it, Harlan Patrick.”

“Not just yet.”

Hardy sighed. The first time Harlan Patrick had mentioned the kiss, Hardy had brought a quick end to the conversation by telling him flatly that it was none of his damned business. Since the topic was back again, he doubted that he could silence Harlan Patrick with another sharp retort. Obviously his friend had something he needed to say.

“Is there something you want to get off your chest?” he asked, wanting the topic over with once and for all, even if it meant answering one or two sticky questions.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Harlan Patrick said. “I know it’s probably none of my business.”

“Damn straight.”

His friend scowled, but kept right on. “It’s just that Grandpa Harlan has taken a real liking to Trish. And Aunt Kelly and Uncle Jordan have taken her under their wings. I’d hate to see her get hurt.”

“She’s not going to get hurt, not by me, anyway,” Hardy declared.

“Then that’ll be a first,” Harlan Patrick said. “You’re not exactly known around town for your staying power. Trish isn’t the kind of woman a man plays games with. Even if half my family hadn’t appointed themselves as her guardians, she’s got a
powerful father who might have a thing or two to say about anybody who does her wrong.”

“I know that,” he said calmly. “I’m not worried.”

Harlan Patrick studied him intently. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you’re serious about her?”

“I’m not telling you a blasted thing,” Hardy said. “If I have something to say, I’ll say it to Trish.”

Harlan Patrick suddenly cracked a grin. “Then I can tell Grandpa Harlan that his scheming is paying off? He’s going to love that. He’ll probably wait at least twenty-four hours before asking about the wedding date.”

“You tell your grandfather if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave the timetable to me. Otherwise there might not ever be a wedding. Trish is skittish. She’s been hurt. She hasn’t exactly announced her undying devotion to me. The situation is delicate. Your grandfather has the tact of a sledgehammer.”

“And you’re any better?” Harlan Patrick scoffed. “Subtlety has never been your strong suit.”

Hardy regarded his friend ruefully. The remark had cut a little too close to the truth. “I’m learning, though. I am definitely learning.”

In fact, he intended to start this evening by suggesting to Trish that they take a drive around to look at some property for a house.
Their
house. Of course, he had no intention of telling her that part of his plan just yet. No point in rushing things, when the outcome was still uncertain.

T
rish glanced up from the mountain of paperwork that was rapidly piling up on her desk just in time to spot Hardy standing in the doorway. Her heart flipped, despite her many warnings to herself that expecting too much from him was a mistake.

“This is a surprise. What brings you by?” she asked.

“I thought you might want to go for a drive.”

“A drive? With all this work to do? I really can’t.”

“You said you wanted to start looking for your own place,” he reminded her. “I had some time this afternoon, so I can take you.”

She had said that, and she really did need to get out of Jordan and Kelly’s hair. The fact that it was
a lovely day with just a hint of spring in the air decided her. She tossed aside her pen.

“Let’s do it,” she said, reaching for her jacket. “Where are we going? How many houses can we see? Have you talked to a real estate agent?”

Hardy chuckled. “Here and there, no houses and no, I have not talked to a real estate agent.”

“What do you mean no houses?”

“We’re looking at property.”

“I see. What about the real estate agent, though? Wouldn’t that be more efficient? I can tell them what I want so we don’t waste our time.”

“We don’t need a Realtor for this. I’m going to show you a few things I already happen to know are on the market.”

“Here in town?”

“No. They’re out a ways, beyond White Pines.”

“But that’s so far,” she protested. “It would be much more convenient for me to be right here in town.”

He shook his head. “We can worry about convenience another time, if you decide against these places. Okay?”

Something told her that this meant more to him than he was letting on. She recalled him mentioning that he’d seen some property that he loved. If only to see what sort of place appealed to him, she relented. “I’m game. Let’s go.”

The drive, which realistically would probably have taken her about an hour, took forty-five minutes with Hardy behind the wheel. He was never reckless, but he definitely tested the speed limits.
She figured it was a good thing Jordan’s son, Justin, was the sheriff. Maybe that was what Hardy was counting on.

Or maybe he was simply anxious to get her impression of this property he was being so mysterious about.

Expecting open land or some sort of ranch, she was startled when he turned into what appeared to be a forest of pines. In actuality it was little more than a grove of the trees for which the town had been named. As they bounced over the rutted dirt road carved through it, she felt as if she’d wandered into a completely different world of strong, fresh scents and deep shade.

When they emerged, she realized that the pine trees had been at the top of a rise. Spread out below was a sea of wildflowers just coming into bloom and the same sparkling creek that wandered through the White Pines ranch. It was a pristine piece of land, as perfect as anything her imagination could have conjured up.

She turned and found Hardy studying her with an anxious expression.

“Well,” he demanded. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” she told him honestly.

His expression brightened. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Of course not. I can just imagine a wonderful little house built right up there at the edge of the woods with lots of windows looking out on this gorgeous view.”

“A log cabin?” he suggested. “Something that fits into the scenery as if it belonged there? With a wide front porch and maybe stained glass on the door so that when the sun shines in the living room is filled with color?”

She fell into his dream, absorbed it as if every detail were already real. It wasn’t her home he was talking about, but his. He was envisioning something she now knew was a far cry from what he’d had as a child. As enchanted as she was with the setting, how could she even think of taking this place away from him?

“Oh, Hardy, I think you should do it. Build a house exactly like that, right here. It will be incredible.”

“No,” he protested. “This place should be yours. It would be a wonderful place for Laura to grow up. She could have horses and a tree house. She could swim in the creek.”

“She would love it,” Trish admitted wistfully, then shook her head. “But you found it. It should be yours. I know it’s the place you talked about a few weeks ago. You said there were others you could show me. Let’s look at those.”

“You won’t even consider buying this one?” he asked, looking vaguely let down.

“No. I’ll look at whatever else you know about and then I’ll check out what’s available in town. That would be the sensible thing to do.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want,” he said, not fighting her nearly as hard as she’d expected him to…as she’d hoped he would.

But there was a mysterious little gleam in his eyes that she couldn’t quite interpret. Since Hardy tended to be a man of many secrets, she finally dismissed it as just being one more.

As they drove away, she cast one last look back at the land he had shown her. Even though sacrificing it for Hardy’s sake had been the right thing to do, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret that she wouldn’t be the one to build a home here. She almost wished she’d never seen it. Nothing they looked at afterward was even a poor second. In fact, she doubted she would ever find anything to compare to it.

Just as she was rapidly coming to understand that she would never find another man quite like Hardy.

Hardy bought the property that same night. He rousted the real estate agent out of bed to do it, insisting on putting his deposit down and making the deal right then and there.

Two weeks later the bank closing went off without a hitch, because of the sizable down payment he’d been able to make with all those years of savings he’d had no reason to spend.

For the next few weeks he spent every spare minute building his house. Because he’d told no one, because he wanted to do every last lick of work himself, it was incredibly slow going. It also cut into time he should have been spending courting Trish, convincing her that they might have a future together.

When the nonstop thoughts of her eventually
crowded out everything else, he finally took an afternoon off and drove into town. He stopped by Dolan’s and picked up two thick chocolate shakes, then went next door.

There were several customers in the bookstore, all with armloads of paperbacks. Obviously Trish was fulfilling a need in Los Piños for new reading material. Everyone was chatting spiritedly with each other, except for Willetta who, to his astonishment, was sitting in a chair in front of the fire. Since Trish was busy. Hardy walked over to the seamstress.

“Hey, Willetta, I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

“Went,” she said succinctly.

“And?”

“Didn’t like it. I’m back to stay.”

He grinned. “There’s no place like home, right?”

“Seems that way to me.” She gestured around the room. “You two did quite a job in here. Hardly recognized the place.”

“You aren’t thinking of trying to steal it out from under Trish, so you can go back into business, are you?”

“Heavens, no. Retirement suits me just fine. I do think I might enjoy coming in here to visit with your girl on occasion. May even take up baby-sitting for little Laura if Trish moves to town.”

“That sounds like a fine idea to me.”

She studied the container in his hand. “What’s that?”

“A chocolate milk shake. I brought it for Trish,
but I’ll bet she wouldn’t mind if I gave it to you, instead.”

She gave him a mock frown, even as she reached for the drink. “Can’t bribe me, boy. I still intend to tell her you’re a rascal every chance I get.”

“I think she already knows,” Hardy confessed. “But I’m hoping she doesn’t mind.”

Willetta nodded. “So, that’s the way it is, is it? Nothing like a good woman to settle a man down. Have you asked her to marry you yet?”

The question had barely been uttered when Hardy heard a gasp. He turned to find Trish staring at Willetta in shock. Because Trish looked so thoroughly flustered, he winked at Willetta.

“Hush,” he warned her. “She’s listening.”

Willetta touched a finger to her lips. “She won’t hear a thing from me.”

Of course, she already had. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t get a real fix on her reaction. Was she merely surprised? Or dismayed?

Oh well, he thought. There was time enough for her to get used to the idea. He didn’t intend to bring the subject up until he could show her the house he’d built for the three of them.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted Trish as if his conversation with Willetta had been about no more than the weather. “I brought you a milk shake, but this customer of yours stole it away from me.”

“Is that so? Guess I’ll just have to take this one, then,” Trish said as she nabbed his drink right out of his hand in a move so smooth the slickest pick-
pocket would have admired it. She regarded him triumphantly as she took a long, slow swallow.

Hardy shook his head with exaggerated regret. “I had no idea the women in this town were nothing but a bunch of sneak thieves.”

Willetta stood up. “Guess I’ll be going now. Looks like you two have things to talk about.” She patted Trish’s shoulder. “Thanks for the visit. You just let me know anytime you want me to baby-sit.”

“Absolutely,” Trish said, then fell silent as Willetta left them alone.

Hardy noticed that she seemed vaguely uneasy as she waited for him to say whatever was on his mind. Obviously she was expecting him to jump straight into a marriage proposal. She should have known he had more finesse than that. He’d also learned a whole lot about timing through his dating years. He knew when to make his move and—up until Trish, anyway—he’d always known when to make his exit.

“Something on your mind?” he inquired, regarding her with lazy curiosity.

“Me?” She stared at him blankly. “No. I thought…I mean, Willetta…” Her voice trailed off.

“Eavesdropping?”

“Of course not!” She sighed heavily. “What brings you into town? You haven’t been around for quite a while now.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Grandpa Harlan says he hasn’t seen much of you at the ranch, either.”

“The two of you spend much time talking about me behind my back?”

“Of course not.”

He grinned at her vehemence. “Tell the truth, darlin’. Were you missing me?”

“No. I just wondered, that’s all. I told him you probably had a new girlfriend.”

Despite her oh-so-casual tone, she looked mad enough to spit at the prospect of him being with another woman. Maybe what they said about absence was true. Maybe it did make the heart grow fonder.

“Would it bother you if I did?” he asked innocently.

“Absolutely not,” she said just a little too hurriedly. “You’re free to do whatever you like.”

“That’s the way I see it,” he agreed. Because she was beginning to look as if she might haul off and pummel him, he decided maybe he’d tormented her long enough. “There’s no other woman, Trish.”

“Did I say I cared?”

He chuckled. “You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.”

“Well, you can hardly blame me for jumping to that conclusion, given your track record.”

“I’m a reformed man. I thought you knew that.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. She went absolutely still.

“Come here, darlin’,” he coaxed softly.

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Why should I?”

“Because you know you want to.”

She frowned at that. “I do not want to,” she retorted emphatically.

“Once you’re over here, you can decide then if you’d rather kiss me or smack me,” he pointed out.

“Now that’s an interesting suggestion,” she admitted.

She crossed the few feet between them until she was so close that Hardy could feel her breath fanning across his cheek. He forced himself to wait, to let her make the choice.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek. Hardly a smack, but not the kiss he wanted either.

“Trish?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

“I’ve been right here,” she reminded him.

He touched her cheek, then ran his thumb over her lips. “You can’t get the words out, can you?”

“What words?”

“That you missed me.”

Eyes sparkling, she challenged, “Who said I did? Laura, however, is another story. She has definitely missed you.”

“Has she said so?” he teased.

“No, but she fusses, and I can tell she’s not happy that I’m the only one around to pick her up.”

“Maybe I’ll come see her tonight, if I’m invited.”

Trish’s gaze locked on his. “I don’t know what to make of you, Hardy Jones,” she said almost to herself.

“I’m a straightforward guy,” he insisted.

“No,” she contradicted. “You’re the most complicated man I think I’ve ever known.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Looking bemused, she admitted, “I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

“Let me know when you do, okay?”

“Oh, you’ll be the first to know,” she assured him.

Hardy was deliberately driving her a little bit crazy, Trish concluded after his visit to the store and his brief stop to see Laura that same night. She didn’t want to be falling in love with a man she couldn’t figure out, but she was afraid it was too late to stop herself.

She also couldn’t help wondering if that was why she’d put off finding a house in town. She’d made up a dozen excuses for not even looking. Kelly had aided her indecision by insisting that she loved having Laura with her all day, that Trish was doing her a favor by staying on and filling Kelly’s “empty nest,” as she put it.

But despite her inability to find a new home for herself, Trish was feeling good about her new life in Los Piños. She was surrounded by friends. Her business was already showing distinct signs that it would thrive. And Laura was getting bigger every day. At four months, she was already the delight of her mama’s life, the bright spot in her days.

Satisfied that her life was on an even keel, and tired of Dylan’s constant pestering, she finally decided she was strong enough to withstand her fa
ther’s pressure and her mother’s disappointment. She called her father at his office.