Picking Up Cowboys (5 page)

Gage gestured toward the foal.  “Yes, but with a newborn?”

Why would Gage think another horse would be impossible for her to handle?  Or was this a new strategy to convince her to sell her ranch?  Well, it wouldn’t work.

“I don’t see how it changes anything.”  Catherine shrugged her shoulders.

Gage’s eyes widened.  “What will you do with it while you’re working?”

Was he nuts?  “Nothing.  It’ll be fine on its own.”

Gage sputtered, looked like he was about to choke.  “You’re kidding right?”

“Why would I be kidding?  How much supervision does it need?”

“I’m not sure you have the first clue about being a mother.”  His green eyes were narrowed contemptuously.

“Mother?”  The man had definitely gone over the edge of a tall building.  Men in white coats would come and take him away.  He expected her to mother a horse?

“That’s generally what women are called when they have a baby.”

Baby?  A niggle of unease flitted through Catherine.  Surely he didn’t think...no he couldn’t think.... “You think I’m pregnant?”

chapter five

“You’re craving chocolate.”  Gage’s smile was smug, like he’d just solved a complicated riddle.

Catherine bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling.  “So?  Women crave chocolate all the time without being pregnant.”

“True.  But you said you were eating chocolate to celebrate a new life.”

“Oh good grief.  What I meant was--”

Gage interrupted her.  “You can’t handle this ranch and a baby.  It would be too much for you.”

Amusement withered.  The man didn’t miss a trick.  He thought she was pregnant and he wasn’t going to bypass the opportunity to convince her to sell.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”  Catherine wondered if he noticed the heavy irony in her tone.

“I’m sure.”  His voice was dry, with an underlying, grudging admiration.  “But is it fair to the baby?  What kind of attention will you be able to give it?”

“Enough to more than satisfy it, I expect.”

Gage grasped her hands in his and gazed into her eyes.  “If you accepted my offer, you could devote all your time to this child.”  His gaze dropped to her abdomen.

Reflexively, Catherine pulled her hands away and rested them on her stomach.  Then, realizing it was a traditional expectant mother pose, she snatched them away and clasped them behind her back.

“I’m not selling, Gage.  Not now, not ever.”  Catherine held his molten gaze, refusing to blink or look away first.  You couldn’t give an inch with a man like this lest he talk you right off your property.

“Be reasonable, Catherine.  Think of the baby.”

The slimy, sneaky, no-account invertebrate crawler.  He was trying to manipulate her, trick her into selling.  Just exactly how stupid did he think she was?  Probably about as stupid as her father, since apparently he’d managed to swindle half the ranch out of him.

“My last offer stands.”  The half-smile on his lips told her he had no doubts she would take his money and bolt.

Surprise, Mr. Maddock.  She would sell the ranch to him on the day she gave birth to this fictional baby.  As tempting as his offers were, it was a matter of pride and tradition that she keep this place.  Of course, a part of her also craved change, excitement and something new.  That part almost jumped up and grabbed his money every time he offered it. The portion of her soul that wanted to see Europe.  The portion who wanted time just for her.  She was not only in a constant battle of wills against Gage, but against herself.  If there were just some way to keep him from enticing her, it would be a lot easier to hold her ground.

You would think he wouldn’t want to disquiet a woman in her “condition”.  Catherine quickly hid what must surely be a purely evil grin behind a mock cough.  Perhaps she should let him continue thinking she was expecting.  It would certainly save her some hassles if she were suddenly struck with unexplained morning sickness each time he offered to buy her half of the ranch.  Wasn’t that rotten?  But no worse than what he was doing, trying to finesse her out of her inheritance.  

“Cat?”

“I can’t sell you the ranch, Gage.”  She lifted her chin.  What she was about to say was the truth but he would draw assumptions based on the belief that she was pregnant.  She wouldn’t lie, but she wouldn’t elaborate either.  “It will be an inheritance for my child.”

Before he could respond, or ask any pertinent questions, Catherine spun away from him and stomped from the barn, head held high. 

Gage wanted to slam his fist into one of the heavy wood beams holding the barn upright.  Why hadn’t he realized Catherine would want to raise her child on the ranch?  The place was obviously in her blood and she’d want her child to experience the magic.  When had he become bloodthirsty enough to put pressure on a woman in a delicate condition?  Could stress cause her to lose the baby?  Gage didn’t know, but he did know he needed to back off for a while and rethink his strategy.  Perhaps there was still a way to convince her to sell, without putting undo stress on her or her unborn child.

He leaned his forearms on the top gate of a nearby stall and rested his forehead on his clasped fists.  He should have asked her how far along she was.  She was still slender, her stomach flat and firm under the tightly woven material of her jeans.  She should be eating better.  His sister always drank orange juice for the folic acid.  He forgot what it did, but he knew it was important.

The mystery of pregnancy was just beyond his understanding at the moment, he’d never had reason to concern himself with all the intricacies. 

For now, he’d forget convincing Catherine to sell him her half of the ranch.  Perhaps there was another solution to the situation. When he solved business problems, sometimes taking time to regroup would give him a different perspective and allow him to pull a solution out of his sleeve, like a magician with a coin. That was what this minor setback called for, a time-out and a little magic.  He would spend the next few days getting to know Catherine, so he could devise the best plan for both of them.  One that would leave all parties satisfied, and leave him as sole owner of the Aspen Trails Ranch.

chapter six

“Let me carry that.  It’s too heavy for you.”  Gage wrestled the laundry basket out of her grip.

Catherine hid her grin.  A basket of freshly laundered and neatly folded clothes hardly posed a risk.  She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the rough, wood frame gracing her bedroom doorway.  Gage deposited the basket in the center of the huge bed with the frame resembling a wooden sleigh.

“Thanks.”

Gage stood in front of her after three, long-strided steps.  His fingers brushed against the tender curve of her ear as he tucked a strand of hair behind it.  Catherine barely repressed the shudder that tried to rack her body.

“You really need to be more careful.”

Guilt rampaged through her, white-hot as a branding iron.  Now.  She should tell him the truth now.  To let him go on believing she was pregnant would only lead to bigger lies.  He was going to be furious as it was.  She had let him believe his misconception for nearly a week.

“Gage--”

His green eyes had turned the smoky-green of the fog enshrouded side of a mountain, his gaze dropped to her lips.  Catherine felt the moisture against her bottom lip before she realized she’d moistened it with a nervous flick of her tongue.

Now he probably thought she was trying to entice him into kissing her...when it was the last thing she wanted.  What she really wanted was to clear the fabrications between them. 

“Catherine, you’re beautiful.”  He pulled loose the same strand of hair he’d just put in place and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gage, it’s really important that I talk to you.”

“There’s a glow about you.”  His smile was as warm as melted butter.

Catherine groaned and reminded herself of the importance of honesty.  “Listen, Gage--”

His lips made contact with hers, driving the breath from her body and blurring the momentum of her confession.

Fire danced gracefully across her soul.  This moment.  This man.  This kiss were all she knew, all she wanted to know.  Catherine lifted her arms to cradle his neck and raised on her tiptoes to move closer.

Her heart craved adventure.  There was adventure in his kiss, an experience unlike any she’d ever known.  Danger and safety all at once.  Gage nuzzled her lips with his own, gently parting them to allow him more intimate access.  It was like she’d been missing a part of herself and suddenly she was complete.

When Gage ended the kiss, Catherine couldn’t prevent the whimper that escaped her.  He leaned his forehead against hers and drew in ragged gulps of air.  Why had he stopped?

When he finally pulled back and she could look into his eyes, they were guarded.  “I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry?”  Why was he sorry?  It had only been the most impressive experience of her somewhat predictable life.

Gage’s thumb hooked out and toward her midriff.  “The baby’s father.  I’m assuming he’s planning on marrying you.”

Catherine’s head began to pound.  Pinocchio had been right.  A noose tightened until it was as plain as the lie on your face.  Or something like that.  Tell him, now!

Gage pressed a quick, detached kiss to her lips.  It lacked the combustibility factor of the earlier kiss.  “I need to try to make it into town, is it okay if I borrow the truck?  I have to send a fax to my office.”  Gage glanced at his gold Rolex as if on a deadline.

“Sure.”  Great!  Now she’d blown the opportunity to tell him.  He was obviously anxious to get into Durango.  She’d plan a nice dinner instead.  Soften him up with good food, wine and music and then lower the whammy.

“I’ll get some supplies.  More snow is forecast.”

“Welcome to winter in Colorado.” 

Gage chuckled.  “Not something I ever truly missed.”

Gage gave her a cheery wave and strolled out of the room.  Catherine listened as his footsteps clattered down the stairs, skipping the squeaky third one from the top and the dull thud of the front door closing behind him.

She rubbed circles on her temples with two fingers.              Deception had never been her strength.  It made her a nervous wreck.  Her body shook at the thought of the confession she planned for tonight and her stomach protested the emotions clogging it. 

Something had to be decided about this unwanted partnership.  There had to be a way to convince him to sell out to her.  Or at the very least, to be a silent partner.  Either way, living under the same roof with him was dangerous.  He had an unsettling effect on her.  Oh, face it!  He turned her on.  If he hadn’t stopped with just one kiss earlier, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to.  Tonight she would clear everything up and get her ranch back in her sole possession.

The snow encrusted gravel crunched under the wheels of the F150 as Gage pulled back into the long driveway leading to the ranch.  He paused under the Aspen Trails sign positioned at the entrance.  Trees lined either side of the road, creating a cocoon from the rest of the world. 

The day Mustang Claiborne had stolen this ranch from Gage’s family, his dreams had been killed.  A new reality and a new goal had been born that day.  The reality was that he’d lost the ranch to a no-account swindler and cheat.  The goal had been to reclaim what was rightfully his.

What confused Gage was the fact that Mustang had left half of Aspen Trails to him.  Why not leave the entire thing to his daughter?  Guilt more than likely.  But that didn’t fit well with the man he knew Mustang to be.  That man had no remorse or conscience.

The crisp newness of the landscape was startlingly brilliant against the deep purple peeking through the mountains in places.  The air had a distinctive ozone scent.  Gage breathed deeply, rolled down his window to gain full advantage of the purity of the oxygen. 

The city robbed you of your ability to breathe properly.  Smog seeped into every pore and choked off your lungs.  He’d missed the purity of this place.  Missed the solitude.  Missed the heritage. 

Christmas was two weeks away.  He’d like nothing better than to be able to have the deed, free and clear.  His only obstacle was Catherine.  There had to be a way to convince the woman to sell her portion of the ranch.  He just had to find it.

The scent of stewed vegetables and fresh-baked bread filled the hallway as Gage stepped in and stomped the snow from his boots. 

“I’m back.”

Catherine emerged from the kitchen doorway, her hair curling in damp ringlets around her flushed cheeks.  Gage felt a little kick in the region of his heart, but ignored it.  Sexual chemistry struck at the oddest times.  But was sometimes more trouble than it was worth.  That would be the case if he got involved with Catherine.  Best to keep things on a business level. He didn’t need any more complication in his life and she was insanely complicated on every level.

“Dinner’s almost ready.”  She waved the wooden spoon in front of her face, almost bumping it into her nose but jumping back at the last second.

Gage grinned.  She was as nervous as a broncobuster at his first rodeo.  She obviously wasn’t immune to his kisses and was just as wary as he was of any involvement.  Well, good.  He didn’t want to get involved with her.  Refused to.  Would do his best to stop it.

Gage followed her to the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink with dishwashing soap.  A heavy kettle of stew bubbled on the back burner of the stove.

“What is it?”  He sniffed appreciatively and his stomach gave a low rumble.

“Hobo stew.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.  What is hobo stew?”

“You’ll keep biting too once you get a taste of it.”  Catherine grinned.  “It is just a hodgepodge of whatever you have available.   Veggies. Ground beef. Potatoes.  I always add tomatoes too.”

“Smells wonderful.”  He grabbed her spoon and tried to reach around her to sample the concoction.

Catherine slapped his hand gently. “Uh-uh.  You have to wait for the bread.”

“You would let me starve?”  Gage tried to don his most pathetic expression.

“Sure.  Then I would have sole custody of this ranch.”  Her grin was teasing but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Gage felt his heart sink.  He knew she wasn’t serious about him starving, but she was serious about not giving up the ranch.  He had always thought that everyone had a price.  Anything and anyone could be bought.

He’d offered her enough money to buy this ranch five times.  Funds to live comfortably and never have to work or lift a finger again.  She’d consistently turned him down.  Was Catherine Claiborne the exception to a set-in-stone rule?  Could she really not be bought?

The timer on the stove dinged and Catherine pulled out two round loaves of bread, cut out the centers to form bowls and spooned the stew inside.

“There you go, sir.  Hobo stew.”

Gage waited for her to spoon hers out and then carried both plates to the heavy, oak table.  Catherine followed him, her forehead creased in thought again.  What was worrying her so much?  Was it his continued offers to buy the ranch?  Maybe if he involved her in some of his plans for revamping the place, she would see his purpose.

“All this snow must be good for something.”  He watched as she shook off whatever was bothering her and focused on what he was saying.

“Making snow angels?”  Catherine grinned, her blue eyes crinkled a little at the corners.

“Not quite what I had in mind.”

She snapped her fingers.  “A snowball fight.  I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid.  It’s a wonderful idea.”  Catherine jumped to her feet.

“Sit down.”  Gage reached across the table, grabbed her fingers and tugged her back into her chair.  “I’m not going to pitch snow at you in your condition.”             

Catherine’s excited, child-like expression closed into a mask of seriousness.  Gage felt a stab of remorse.  She’d been so open and eager, perhaps he should have indulged her and started a snowball fight.  But his ideas were important to the future of this ranch.  To keeping it profitable and to help it not sink in its own traditions.

“I was talking about skiing.”  He watched her face for a reaction.

“I’m horrible at it.  I never had much time to go.  I had to make sure that Pop...”  she trailed off.

“I didn’t mean that you should ski.”  Gage laughed.

“Then what do you mean?”  Catherine blinked, looking at him as though he were a particularly nasty bug she’d found crawling across her kitchen.

“I thought Aspen Trails could get some of the ski season business.  Cater to the snow bunny crowd.”

“Too much work. We’d have to hire a full-time staff and we just don’t have the funds right now to do that.”

Catherine scooped a heaping spoonful of the soup onto her silverware and lifted it to her lips.  Her mouth pursed and she blew on the rising steam.  Every muscle in Gage’s body hardened in response.  Business.  He had to keep his mind on business.

“I have the funds to back a project like this.”

“Yes, but you don’t own the ranch.”  Her voice was calm but her cheeks burned with two little circles of color.

“I own half of the ranch.”

Catherine sighed.

“Just hear me out.”  Gage held her gaze.  If she could just understand his plans, maybe he could convince her to sell.

“Okay,” Catherine leaned back in her chair, ignoring her barely touched food. 

Gage dropped his gaze to her midriff.  She really needed to eat more.  If this discussion was going to spoil her appetite, perhaps it could wait.  But he had her attention.  She’d feel better once she heard his plans.  Maybe it would make her feel like eating.

“A resort/hotel.  Ski lodge type facilities in the winter, complete with sauna, and a hot tub in every room.”

“You’re going to put hot tubs in the cabins?”  Catherine’s eyes shone with worry.  Apparently she thought that he had gone off the deep end.

“Not the cabins.”

Her eyes widened as realization began to dawn.  “You mean you’ll tear down the cabins and put in a luxury style hotel?”

Gage smiled and leaned back in his chair.  Finally, someone else saw his vision. “Yes.  Exactly.”

The heavy frame of the chair clattered noisily against the tile floor as Catherine shoved away from the table and rose to her feet.  “Absolutely not.  Never.  Not while I have breath left in  my body.”

Her eyes snapping fury, she marched from the room, head held high.  Okay, maybe she didn’t share his vision. Maybe she didn’t even want to wear the same glasses.  Apparently, it was time to think up a new strategy.  But how did you deal with a female swindler who was unreasonable on top of it?