Cowboy for Keeps (8 page)

Richard wanted help managing employees? Conner thought he must
have misheard. Richard, the great department head. The one with more experience,
according to the HR rep who’d issued Conner his pink slip. The one who used to
brag about his production record and fat profit margin. He was seeking Conner’s
advice?

“Rosco is bullheaded and Evelyn’s officious.” That was all
Richard was going to get from him.

The man’s next words changed his mind.

“I’d hate for them to lose their jobs.”

“Are you going to fire them?” Conner’s hackles rose.

“They’ve had three warnings each. Two verbal and one written.
You know company policy.”

He did. Rosco and Evelyn had reached their warning limits. A
fourth one would result in probation. Then, leave without pay. After that,
termination.

As much as Conner appreciated their loyalty, as much as he
secretly cheered Rosco and Evelyn for giving Richard grief, he didn’t want them
to lose their jobs. Not on his account.

“Ask Evelyn about her grandchildren,” he said.

“What?”

“She has pictures of them in her cubicle, right?”

Richard shrugged. “I haven’t paid any attention.”

And that was a large part of his problem. He drew a very thick,
black line between work and personal life. He never crossed it and preferred no
one else did, either. He also tended to micromanage new employees and those he
didn’t quite trust. Conner was sure all his former team members fell into the
latter category.

“Evelyn is a proud grandmother. There’s nothing she’d rather
talk about. Mention you’re going to be a father soon. She’ll melt.”

“I don’t like discussing Dallas’s pregnancy at work.”

“Make an exception. You don’t have to go into details. And
assign Rosco the weekly scheduling.”

“I’ve always done the scheduling.”

“Give him the job for a month. If he doesn’t meet your
standards, offer him some guidelines. He’ll get it right. And you’ll free
yourself of one task.”

“I’m not sure he’s capable of it.”

“He’ll surprise you. He did me.” Conner took a step toward his
truck. “Once Rosco and Evelyn are on board, the rest of the department will
follow.”

“I’m not a touchy-feely manager.”

“You don’t have to be. A little bit of sincere interest in your
employees’ lives, a few tasks delegated, will go a long way.”

Richard nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Tell everyone I said hello.”

“I’ll do that.”

Conner decided Richard would probably deliver the message. And
perhaps, if his former team members knew that he and Richard were on speaking
terms, tenuous as those terms might be, they’d be more inclined to cooperate. No
more people at Triad Energy would lose their jobs if Conner could help it.

His last sight of Dallas before he drove away was her opening
her front door, Richard trailing her inside, his hands shoved in his hoodie
pockets. He’d said he wanted to talk about health insurance. Was that was an
excuse, and his real intention to pressure her into accepting his marriage
proposal?

Jealousy gnawed at Conner.

If Richard did convince Dallas to marry him, Conner wouldn’t
stand in the way. She’d do what was best for her and the baby. As was right.

The lights of Mustang Valley were just coming into view when
his cell phone chimed. Considering the hour, he assumed it was either one of his
sisters or an emergency at the ranch.

It was neither. Dallas’s number flashed on the display.

Excitement, then trepidation, shot through him. He suppressed
both. “Hey.”

“Hope it’s not too late to call.”

“Is something wrong?”

Had Richard argued with her? Or was she announcing that they
were back together?

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to say you’re a really nice
guy, Conner.”

“I am?”

“You didn’t have to help Richard. In fact, nobody would blame
you if you’d told him where to stuff it. Especially your former employees.”

Richard had talked to Dallas about their conversation.
Interesting.

“I won’t lie. I thought about doing a lot worse than telling
him where, and how deep, to stuff it.”

She laughed good-naturedly. Even over a phone line, it had the
ability to lighten his mood. Warm him. Make him think of her pretty brown eyes,
shining with merriment.

Conner stopped his truck at the entrance to Powell Ranch. He
didn’t want to concentrate on anything except the smile in her voice.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I care about the people at Triad. It’s not their fault they’re
saddled with Richard as a boss.”

She laughed again, and promptly sobered. “You’re a good person
for someone to have on their side.”

“I try.”

“The kind of person I’d want on my side,” she added softly.

It was more than he should admit, but he said it anyway. What
was the worst that could happen?

“You do. And always will.”

“I’m glad. Good night, Conner.”

She disconnected without waiting for him to say good-night in
return.

Conner’s heart didn’t stop slamming into his rib cage for
several long minutes, after which he put the truck in gear and continued up the
long driveway to the ranch.

Chapter Eight

Dallas couldn’t remember seeing Powell Ranch so busy.
Granted, it was Saturday, a day when many of the residents of Mustang Village
and nearby Scottsdale took riding lessons, exercised their horses and embarked
on trail rides. The unseasonably mild weather was an added bonus. By next week,
November would be upon them and the temperature was bound to drop.

Grabbing her camera bag from the passenger seat, she left her
car and strode toward the office in the barn. It had been her intention to come
out last Monday and take pictures of Prince, as she’d told Conner she would.
Several unscheduled and well-paying jobs had caused her to postpone the
trip.

She’d spoken with him twice since then, the second time about
what day would be best for them to get together. They hadn’t mentioned their
kiss on her doorstep or the details of Richard’s visit.

She was certain Richard had sensed the undercurrents between
her and Conner. He wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t blind. But he hadn’t asked any
questions, for which she was grateful, and had left shortly after explaining
about the insurance papers.

It was none of his business who she dated, anyway. They’d
called off their engagement months ago. If he happened to acquire a new
girlfriend, she wouldn’t object.

A new girlfriend who might well be at his place during his
scheduled day with their baby. A girlfriend who’d possibly feed and change her
child’s diapers. Rock him or her to sleep, as Dallas had Milo.

Nausea struck, and she pressed a hand to her middle.

She had to stop thinking about Richard and another woman. About
her and Conner, too. They
weren’t
dating and
wouldn’t start.

Maybe they’d date later, after the baby was, say, a year or two
old.

What about Richard and his future, potential girlfriend? Would
she and not Dallas watch her child take his or her first step? Speak his or her
first word?

This truly had to end. Right now. If not, she’d make herself
sick overthinking things.

It was probably just as well she’d been busy this past week.
The separation from Conner had grounded her. Given her time to clear her head
and put their temporary foray into madness into perspective. It was simply a
kiss. The spontaneous product of attraction and impulse. An isolated
occurrence.

As she climbed the three steps to the office, her heart rate
increased. Her palms, she noticed, were damp, and her entire body hummed with a
pleasant anticipation.

So much for being grounded and acquiring perspective.

Tugging on the hem of her sweater, she pasted a friendly, but
not too friendly, smile on her face and swung open the office door.

Conner wasn’t there, as per their prearranged plan. Instead,
Gavin sat at the desk, staring at a computer monitor. Dallas read the flashing
banner advertising equine medical supplies.

He glanced up as she entered. “Hey, girl. How’s it going?”

“Good.” She wavered between relief and disappointment.

“Conner’s on his way back from the rodeo arena.”

“Oh, okay.”

He was coming. He hadn’t stood her up. The relief she felt now
was of an entirely different nature.

“Can I get you a coffee?” Gavin nodded at the pot warming on
the file cabinet.

“No, thanks.” She studied the office. It was functional and
hardly fancy, the furniture old but sturdy. “I can wait outside if you’re
busy.”

“I’ll go with you.” He stood, closed the webpage and reached
for the cowboy hat resting on the corner of his desk. “Any excuse to get out of
ordering supplies online. Whatever happened to catalogs and 800 numbers?”

“There’s a ton of people here today,” Dallas commented as they
stepped outside.

“Thanks to you.”

“Me?”

“Those photographs you sent to the local media.” He zipped up
his Carhartt vest. “Apparently they’re generating a buzz. Did you see the news
Wednesday evening?”

“I missed it. I was photographing the Carefree Fine Arts
Festival.”

“The station ran a segment. Mentioned the ranch by name. We’ve
been flooded with calls since. Most people want to know if we found the mare and
colt. Quite a few were interested in our services.” He nodded at the dozen
horses and riders gathering in front of the main arena. “We have a record number
of trail rides scheduled for today. I had to recruit a few of Ethan’s rodeo
buddies to help out.”

“That’s great, Gavin.” She patted his arm affectionately. “I’m
so glad.”

The Powells were still recovering from the financial disaster
that had cost them their cattle operation after Gavin’s mother died, several
years ago. If the mare and colt weren’t ever found, at least something good had
come from her photographs.

“Sage found the news clip on YouTube,” Gavin said. “She’s
better with computers than me. I’ll have her send you the link. We’re going to
add it to the ranch and sanctuary websites.”

“Any sightings of the mare and colt?”

“Not a one, unfortunately.”

“You’ve been searching for them, though.”

“When we can. Conner and Clay went out Monday and again on
Thursday. No luck. I spoke to the Forest Service. They told me if we do find the
horses, they’ll let us keep them as long as no one comes forward with proof of
ownership.”

“That much is good at least.”

“We’re thinking of trying the same trick we used to capture
Prince.”

“A Judas horse. I remember.” Dallas had learned all about it
while working with the writer for the book.

“Yeah.” Gavin nodded. “The mare was raised with other horses,
that’s obvious. If Ethan and I hadn’t come barreling up that hill on our ATVs,
Conner would have had her tied and ready to be led home.”

Dallas remembered her frustration when the mare took off at the
sudden noise.

“We’re thinking of erecting a similar makeshift pen in the box
canyon,” Gavin continued. “Put a couple horses in there for a day or two and
spread out some hay. With luck, she’ll come out of hiding.”

“She and the colt have to be hungry.”

Gavin’s cell rang before he could respond. “Yeah, Conner.” He
paused and looked at Dallas. “She’s here now. I’ll tell her.” Gavin
disconnected. “He’s on his way. Be another fifteen minutes.”

“Is Sage around? I could visit the baby.”

“She’s with Sierra. They took the kids on a play date.” Gavin
looked bemused. “As if my two-year-old nephew is interested in his
three-month-old cousin.”

“Not yet. But one day those two boys will be close as brothers
and getting into the same kind of trouble you and Ethan did.”

“God help us all.”

“Gavin!” A man holding a handsome Thoroughbred hollered and
waved him over. “Got a second to look at this fella’s limp?”

“Be right back,” Gavin told Dallas.

“No rush. I’ll just wander.”

She didn’t get too far before Gavin’s stepdaughter plodded up
on a swaybacked gelding.

“Hello, Mizz Sorz-son,” she said, butchering Dallas’s last
name.

“Hello to you, too, Miss Isa. And don’t you think you should
call me Dallas? We’ve been friends awhile.”

“Gavin says I’m supposed to be polite.”

Dallas went over and stroked the horse’s velvety nose. “You
have my permission to call me that.”

“Really?” The girl grinned, leaned down and wrapped her arms
around the horse’s neck. “But I might have to call you Mizz Sorz-son in front of
Gavin.”

“Is he strict with you and Cassie?” Dallas wondered if his
parenting style was more like Hank’s than she’d initially thought. If strictness
was typical of all stepfathers.

“Kinda.” Isa straightened, her mouth scrunched to one side as
she pondered Dallas’s question. “Not like my mom. Cassie and I have sooo many
chores.” She expelled a tired breath, as if the burden placed on her was
unbearable. “Gavin just wants us to use manners with anyone who comes to the
ranch. Always say Mister and Mizz because we rep-per-sent the Powells.”

Dallas had to laugh. Isa’s impersonation of Gavin was spot on.
“You’re doing a fine job.”

“Why ya here? You taking more pictures?”

“Of Prince. I’m waiting on your uncle Conner.”

“You wannna ride Chico?” She patted the horse’s neck.

The old gelding had been standing patiently, head hanging and
eyes drifting close. He completely ignored his young rider, who constantly
wiggled and jiggled and fidgeted, standing up in the stirrups, only to plop back
down.

Dallas was convinced a giant crack in the earth could open up
in front of the horse and he’d sleep through it.

She did miss riding. Her doctor had advised she could continue
with her normal activities at this stage of her pregnancy as long as she was
careful. What better horse to ride than one entrusted with an unsupervised
seven-year-old?

“Only if you watch me,” Dallas said. “And we ride in the round
pen.”

“Yay! You hear that, Chico?”

Dallas walked alongside Isa and Chico to the pen, which had
been recently vacated by the man with the limping Thoroughbred. Slinging her
camera bag over a fence post, she watched as Isa hopped from the saddle and,
holding on to the horn, dropped the last two feet to the ground. Chico didn’t
move, reassuring Dallas that riding him would be completely safe.

“Here.” Isa tossed Dallas the reins and scrambled up the fence,
where she perched on the top rung.

Dallas mounted Chico, who remained completely disinterested in
the change of riders. She nudged him into a walk, her hands relaxed as she
guided him in a circle. Not that the old horse needed much guiding. He knew his
job.

The sun on her face, the breeze tickling her hair, the sound of
Chico’s hooves tromping through the soft dirt, the McDowell Mountains standing
tall and proud to the south—it was an absolutely perfect experience.

“Make him trot,” Isa called out. “He’ll do it. He’s just
lazy.”

“Lazy is the right speed. Besides, I’m not sure trotting would
be good for me.”

“Why?” Isa wrinkled her small brow in puzzlement.

“Because I’m having a baby.”

“You are?” The girl’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

“Didn’t your parents tell you?”

She shook her head, and then announced proudly, “I know all
about having babies. Where they come from. How they’re born.” She rubbed her
belly. “Mama told me they grow in here. In the u-tar-us.”

“They do.” Dallas would rather avoid any discussion of human
reproduction with Isa, and changed the subject. “How old is Chico?”

The girl was not to be deterred. “When Mama had Milo, she let
me go to the doctor with her and see pictures of him on this machine. His heart
was beating, like, a million miles an hour, and I could see his arm moving.” Awe
shone on her face and altered the quality of her voice. “Did you do that? See
your baby on a machine?”

“Not yet. Probably next month.” How to introduce a different
topic? Dallas racked her brain as Chico continued trudging in circles.

“Can I go with you when you do?” Isa asked.

“Um...” Dallas hadn’t even decided if she was going to bring
Richard. She supposed she should ask him. “Let me talk to your mother about it
first.” A cop-out, but she didn’t know how else to fend off Isa’s request.
“Where’s your sister today?”

It turned out that Dallas didn’t need another distraction
attempt. Conner’s truck rambled past, on the way to his apartment, she assumed.
Except the truck came to a sudden, gravel-crunching stop.

Conner jumped out and ran toward them.

“Hi, Uncle Conner.”

He ignored Isa, jerked open the gate and stormed into the pen,
waving his arms in front of Chico. “Whoa, boy.”

Chico obediently stopped, as if that was his intention all
along, and gawked at the human suddenly blocking his path.

So did Dallas. “What’s wrong?”

He took hold of Chico’s bridle. “Get down now.”

“Why?”

“You agreed, no riding.”

“Into the mountains. This is Chico. We both know he isn’t going
to do anything.”

“Dallas, please,” he pleaded. “Even a small risk isn’t worth
it.”

The concern in his voice swayed her when she would have put up
a fight. He cared.

“All right.” She gripped the saddle horn as Isa had done and
swung her right leg over Chico’s behind.

Reaching the ground, she spun, only to find herself in Conner’s
arms. Then in his embrace.

* * *

C
ONNER
HELD
ON
TO
D
ALLAS
, relieved she was safe from harm. It wasn’t his intention to
put them in yet another compromising position, but she’d given him a start. Yes,
old Chico was a dependable mount, but he was an animal, and therefore
unpredictable. If she by chance fell...

“I’m okay,” Dallas muttered into his jacket front.

Realizing his grip was tighter than necessary, he released her,
only to study her from head to toe. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” She smiled.

He couldn’t kiss her. Not with Isa and half of Mustang Village
watching. And they were watching. Conner slamming on his truck brakes had
guaranteed that.

But he wanted to kiss her. Badly.

He would again, he vowed. When he landed a decent job. Secured
his house from the clutches of the bank. Purchased a new vehicle suitable for
transporting a mother and child. Wasn’t mooching off his friends.

“Believe me,” she said. “I wouldn’t have ridden Chico if I
thought it was risky.”

“I know. But do me a favor. Don’t ride him or any horse until
after the baby’s born. My nerves can’t take it.”

“All right, I won’t. I promise. Not where you can see me,
anyway.”

“Dallas!” His fingers found her shoulders and squeezed.

She laughed. That incredible, intoxicating laugh of hers.
“You’re very gullible. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“My mother lost two babies. Miscarriages. The first from
stepping off a curb and falling down. It’s one of the reasons her marriage to my
dad hit the skids.”