What a Texas Girl Dreams (Crimson Romance) (10 page)

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Authors: Kristina Knight

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: What a Texas Girl Dreams (Crimson Romance)
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She knew it was impossible, but Jinx appeared to smile for a second as the jets did their work. They shortened their walk, moving forward and back at the same angle so that the jets could work most of Jinx’s leg.

Vanessa waddled over, her pregnant belly almost as big as Kathleen’s, and sat heavily on a high-backed chair near the pool. “God, Kath, I don’t know how you stand it out here in the heat.” Vanessa flicked open a red fan decorated with gold-leaf dragons, and Monica shook her head. Trust her spoiled sister to use a Chinese fan on a hot, Texas ranch. And trust Vanessa to look cool and comfortable in the middle of a heatwave. Not a hair of her straight, dark was out of place while the unruly curls both Monica and Kathleen were blessed with had frizzed within five minutes of being outdoors. Vanessa’s makeup didn’t run in sweaty tracks down her face and the sailor-style maternity dress looked freshly pressed. Her one concession to the heat was a pair of white leather sandals with flat soles.

“It’s not so bad once you’re used to it. You and Mat coming over for dinner tonight?”

Vanessa nodded. “Is Jackson still back on Friday? I thought if he had time, we might do some maternity pictures next week.”

Kathleen and Vanessa kept chatting. Maternity pictures, new paint colors for their respective nurseries. Monica walked Jinx forward and back again, shaking her head. Maternity pictures?

“If you two are done with the baby talk, I’ve got a horse that needs rehab.”

“You’re doing great, Mon. Just keep walking,” said Kathleen, waving her hand absently, distracted by Vanessa’s plans for the nursery at Mat’s place.

Her sisters’ conversation turned to the benefits of muted-yellow paint, because it would have a calming effect on the babies. Babies who would sleep ninety-nine percent of the time, but who really cared?

And this, Monica told herself, is the reason you don’t do relationships. Babies and husbands turn previously normal, centered, lively women into alien life forms worried about the benefits of breastfeeding versus the versatility of formula. Cloth diapers versus Pampers. She watched her sisters for a long moment. One year ago, they’d been virtual strangers, but at least she had more or less understood them. Vanessa was the spoiled princess of the King William District in San Antonio. Kathleen was the world-famous horse trainer, getting ready for the World Equestrian Games. Now Vanessa had traded in the posh King William District, vacations in the South of France and two-thousand-dollar manicures for the ranch next door and a life building websites. Kathleen still trained horses, but she was no longer on the short-list to make the Games, not with a baby on the way. Both women seemed to enjoy the changes in their lives, but would the enjoyment last?

She should be asking the same question of herself. A year ago, Trick was a virtual stranger. Today, he was a distraction she didn’t need, but no matter how she tried, he was there. In her thoughts. In her dreams. God, she was pitiful.

The timer on Kathleen’s phone rang, marking the end of Jinx’s last hour in the pool. Kathleen absently turned off the ringer and kept talking to Vanessa. Monica shook her head and backed Jinx out of the pool while the diaper debate continued. She rubbed a thick towel over Jinx’s body and released him into the corral. Then she stripped off the hated water shoes with toes at the ends and dried herself with a fresh towel.

She turned to find Vanessa and Kathleen watching her closely from their perches by the therapy pool, twin expressions on their faces. Kathleen slowly got to her feet. Vanessa pushed herself up from her chair. As one, they moved over to her. A hint of dread slid down Monica’s spine.

Vanessa elbowed Kathleen.

“Do you want some iced tea?” Kathleen asked, all innocence.

“Not really. I’ll just go grab a shower and … ”

“Great! Guillermo put out glasses a few minutes ago on the terrace. Let’s go have a snack,” Kathleen interrupted. She looped her arm through Monica’s and turned her toward the ranch house. Sun glinted off the swimming pool, and a table with a pitcher, glasses, and a small plate of sandwiches awaited. “I know you’ve been in the water, and probably aren’t as hot as us, but you still need to keep hydrated. And it wouldn’t kill you to eat a little more. You’re puny.” Kathleen chattered at her, not letting Monica get a word in edgewise and all the while pulling her toward the table on the patio.

“I’m not puny.” Walking alongside her sister, Monica glanced down at her toned legs and flat stomach. She wasn’t puny, not in anyone’s handbook.

Vanessa joined in the conversation. “And it wouldn’t kill you to put a little lotion on your hands. I’m sure Jinx would appreciate it.”

Her hands? Monica twisted her palms up and down. They looked normal to her. A little wrinkly, but what hands wouldn’t be, after an hour in a pool? Okay, maybe her cuticles were a little raggedy, but she was a barrel racer for goodness’ sake.

They arrived at the table. Kathleen pushed Monica into a chair while Vanessa sat down primly on another. With perfect posture, she poured iced tea into glasses, added slices of lemon, and placed them just so on the table. Like the socialite she was born to be. Leave it to Vanessa not to let nine months of pregnancy slump her shoulders even a little bit.

Bemused and wondering when they’d drop whatever bomb they had on her, Monica watched her sisters. Vanessa sat back, crossing her hands over her rounded belly. Kathleen bit into a sandwich and rolled her eyes skyward.

“Heavenly.” She chewed and took another bite. “So, how was your date with the vet?”

She knew it. Her sisters wanted the skinny on her date with Trick. A date she’d been replaying in her mind since he’d dropped her off at the ranch just before supper.

A date she didn’t care to analyze with her love-obsessed sisters. And not because he hadn’t so much as texted her since leaving her on the doorstep.

Monica shrugged as if her day with Trick was as normal as a hot, Texas afternoon. “It was fine.” She sipped her tea and bit into her chicken-salad sandwich. Fine didn’t begin to cover it, but what her sisters didn’t know wouldn’t hurt Monica.

“Fine?” Vanessa asked, finishing off her tea and refilling her glass.

Monica nodded.

“Fine?” Kathleen polished off her second half sandwich and shot a look at Vanessa.

“Fine.” Monica said again, a little more forcefully this time. She took another bite and washed it down.

Her sisters busted up laughing. Monica looked from one to the other. “I don’t get it. Are pregnancy hormones like laughing gas?”

Kathleen shook her head, bright sunlight catching the red highlights in her hair. “You’re the laughing gas, kiddo. Fine? I saw the way you looked at Trick and the way he looked at you before you left. I’d say a six-hour date is better than ‘fine.’”

“He took me to Canyon Lake. It wasn’t a big deal,” Monica said defensively.

Vanessa nodded. “We know all about how those extra-long dates don’t mean a thing.”

“We went on a picnic. That’s it.”

“I’ve been on that kind of picnic.” Kathleen’s green eyes danced. “That kind of picnic can change a girl’s outlook.”

“He didn’t change my outlook. He took me to lunch and showed me a piece of Texas I’d never seen before.” Too late, Monica realized how that sounded. Her sisters hooted.

“I’ll bet he did. Tell me, Monica, is the ‘scenery’ as irresistible up close?” Vanessa leaned forward, delight gleaming in her ice-blue eyes at Monica’s discomfort. “Because that boy can definitely fill out a pair of Levi’s.”

“Who can fill out a pair of Levi’s?” Mat’s voice interrupted their giggles. Vanessa smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Trickett.” She batted her eyes at him. “But you don’t do the brand any harm, either.”

Mat grinned. “Well, as long as I’m on the list somewhere.” He kissed Vanessa, long and slow, and ran his hand over her belly. He rested his forehead against Vanessa’s for a second and then turned to Monica. “I’ve never paid much attention to how Trick’s butt looks in Levi’s, but he sits a horse nicely.”

A flush heated Monica’s skin. This was why, before Trick showed up with flowers and changed things, she’d insisted on meeting him at a movie theatre or going far away from Lockhardt for dinners. She didn’t need her family in her business.

“It was just a date.”

“Uh-huh, we know. We’ve seen the bouquet. It’s lovely.” Vanessa said.

“And he prefers Wranglers.” Monica immediately wished that last sentence back in her mouth but the damage was done. Kathleen snorted and Vanessa’s smile widened even more.

“But it was just one date, hmm?” Vanessa finished her tea.

Kathleen stacked the plates on the table and stood. Mat kissed Vanessa once more and then went into the house. “Okay, kidding aside. Did you have a good time? Because Trick really is a good guy, Mon.”

Did she have a good time? Too good, if Monica was honest with herself. The cave, the drive back to Lockhardt, the time to focus on Trick without lust clouding her vision. Okay, lusting after Trickett Samuels was never completely out of her mind, but during their date she’d seen him as more than good sex and a fun time. He’d planned a romantic afternoon, hit all the right notes, and not once had he done more than brush his lips against hers or hold her hand. It was a weird combination of backtracking and moving their relationship forward into new territory, and it left Monica feeling itchy. Unsettled.

“He really is, Monica.” Vanessa reached across the small table. “He’s Mat’s best friend, so I’ve spent a little time with him. He’s solid, funny, and if Mat wasn’t the absolute best-looking cowboy in Lockhardt, I’d have looked twice at Trick.”

Kathleen took up the Trick torch as soon as Vanessa stopped talking. “His smile is sinful, you know. And he was smiling a lot at breakfast yesterday. He chose the perfect flowers for you.”

Monica knew all of that. Yes, Trick had figured out a few things over the last few weeks. Yes, he’d set up a lovely first date. No, she still wasn’t certain what it all meant. As her sisters sang Trick’s praises, Monica’s breathing became short and her heartbeat spiked. Kathleen told her how great Trick was with the animals, large and small, on the ranch. Vanessa said Trick had one of the best reputations in town. They both agreed most of the single women around here had at least one eye on the handsome veterinarian. Monica clenched her sweaty palms when Kathleen mentioned that he volunteered his time to care for the rescue horses she boarded. She counted to a slow five as Vanessa commented on the crib and changing table Trick had helped Mat assemble the previous weekend.

Finally, she couldn’t take anymore Super Boyfriend Trick stories. “Stop. Just stop. I know he’s a good catch. I know he’s a good guy. It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know if I want to catch him or not. My life is in Austin, not Lockhardt.” Monica pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “You two may have found some weird pregnant-sisterly-bond since last summer, and that’s great. But don’t try to wrangle me into it. I don’t want the life you’ve both settled for. I have my own dreams, and they may or may not involve Trickett Samuels in the long term.”

As one, Kathleen and Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock. Monica held up her index finger when Kathleen opened her mouth to speak.

“I think it’s great, I really do, that you are both in love with wonderful men. But I don’t think that life is for me. I don’t like being tied down. I like being able to pack for a rodeo at the last minute, to stay out on the road for weeks at a time. You both inherited Grandfather’s love of home and family, but I think I’m more like Dad. Look at the mess he made of his life because he kept trying to settle down.”

“Mon, that isn’t why … ”

“Stop, Kath. Just stop. I know what I want. I like Trick. Our date was fine, but in the long term, I don’t see anything more than dating between us. And I would appreciate it if you would both respect that.” Before either of her sisters could say anything more, Monica turned and fled into the house. She knew what she wanted, what she needed, she told herself. She needed Jinx’s rehab to work. She wanted to be back on the circuit, free of the stifling care her sisters had just tried to heap on her.

In her room, she stripped off her wet clothes and sent them flying down the laundry chute. She stepped into the shower, washing the grime of the workout with Jinx from her skin. Damn, she liked her sisters better when they weren’t getting along, when they weren’t certain what was best for her. She’d done a helluva good job of running her own life between birth and now, without any input from either of them. She didn’t need mothering.

Monica wrapped a thick towel around herself and combed out her wet hair. She reached into her closet to grab a short, flirty dress. She dried off, pulled the dress across her shoulders, and tied the wrap at her waist. Plain, white footies were next, followed by …

Crap! She’d left her Luccheses in the back of Trick’s truck. Monica pulled the socks off and settled on a brown-leather sandals. She wiggled her shell-pink toenails and smiled. A different look for a different attitude. First stop, get her boots back. Second stop, convince Trick to rewind and go back to the way things were before Jinx’s accident.

• • •

“Once the last patients have been seen, we flip the phones over to the answering service, put up the closed sign and lock the doors,” Trick said. His new intern, a junior at the high school who wanted to become a vet, took copious notes. The FFA instructor had recommended Jessica just this morning, and — good sign, he hoped — she’d volunteered to come over right after lunch.

Four hours later, she’d filled up at least half of the glittery, pink notebook.

“What happens if … ”

Banging on the front door interrupted her. They turned to see Vern, the gas-station attendant, with a cat bed. Trick hurried over.

“She started delivering over an hour ago,” Vern said, his words breathy as if he’d run to the vet clinic. “Two were stillborn, there’s at least one more in the birth canal but it won’t come out. So I’ve brought her to you.”

Trick sat the cat and bed underneath the bright light in the waiting room. Her pupils were dilated, and her breathing was shallow. Whatever was wrong, she was fading fast. Trick ran his fingers gently along her sides toward the birth canal and stopped, probing carefully near her back legs. The kitten was sideways inside the canal.

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