"I meant," he drawled, once she was inside and standing by the small table,"why are you askingme?"
"Your the expert," she said, looking up at him with those blue eyes thatmade him want to drop to his knees and beg her to go to bed with him. Thethought of it made him smile, just a little. His little bed would never be thesame if Addie Larson were in it with him.
"Quit laughing," she said, looking beautiful in a bright blue T-shirt andbaggy tan shorts. The woman had a nice pair of legs, he remembered. And herethey were in his bunkhouse. "I'm serious."
"I'd help you if I could, of course. But Ed kept his business operations tohimself, Addie. He made all the decisions and I followed orders."
"Oh." She looked so disappointed, he felt sorry for her.
"Would you like a drink?" He opened the refrigerator to see what he couldoffer. "I have beer, iced tea and oh, yeah, a Mountain Dew. Or I can put onsome coffee."
"Iced tea would be good." She set the battered notebooks on the table and satdown in the chair facing him. "Let me be honest," she began. He turned, a trayof ice cubes in his hand.
"All right," he said, wondering what the hell was coming next. When a womanwanted to be "honest," it was his experience that nothing good could come ofthe rest of the conversation. He filled a tall, plastic glass with ice andpoured some cold tea over it, then set the glass on the table in front of her."But after I get out of these clothes and take a shower."
"Do you have to?" She looked at her watch.
"Yeah," he said. He could delay this "honest" stuff for a few more minuteseasily enough, and he wasn't going to be this close to Addie when he smelledlike cow. "I have to. Where are the kids-with John?"
"No. I wouldn't do that to him. They're at a prekindergarten session in town.And I have an appointment at two-thirty."
"I'll be quick," he promised. And he was as good as his word, too, showeringin record time and, dressed in clean jeans and one of his best shirts,returning to the kitchen in less than ten minutes. He was barefoot and hishair was wet, but he didn't think Addie would care. She was ready to talkbusiness and have some kind of honest discussion with her ranch hand, that wasall. She hadn't come to unbutton his shirt or tell him to make love to her.
"Wow, that was fast." Addie had spread the notebooks across the table and haddrunk half of her tea. She had a pen in her hand and a small calculator on topof one of the notebook's pages.
"I've learned to be quick, before the hot water runs out." He refilled hertea and fixed a glass for himself before sitting down across from her. "So,what's the problem?"
She stared at him for a long moment-so long, he wondered if she'd heard hisquestion. And then, to his absolute horror, tears welled up in her eyes andspilled down her cheeks. "Oh, jeez, Addie," he sputtered. "Not again!"
"Sorry." She made an attempt to wipe her face. "And I'm sorry I was such anidiot that night, too. Crying like that-like this-it's, well, so embarrassing.I'm sorry, I really am."
"Here." He got up and grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and handedthem to her. "Well, this time you're not crying because we're both naked andI'm on top of you, so what is it?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. And please don't use the word 'naked' again. Itwas just that you asked me 'what's the problem' as if you were going to helpme solve it." With that, tears filled her eyes again, but she blinked themback and sniffed. "In case you're wondering, it's been a long time sinceanyone-okay, aman -offered to help like he meant it."
Why would someone offer to help if he didn't mean it?Calknew he was in wayover his head. He sat down again and figured he'd just wait this one out. Thenhe changed his mind and went into his room to find a clean handkerchief, whichhe handed to Addie before sitting down again.
"Thank you," she said. Her nose was bright red and her eyes were puffy, buthe longed to take her in his arms and hold her. If she were his, he'd haul heronto his lap and let her cry all she wanted on his shoulder. Then he'd solveall the problems in her world, damn it. No matter how serious or silly orincomprehensible they were.
"You want to know about cows," he prompted. She took a deep breath and seemedto compose herself. "I've been going through my father's papers and I can'tmake any sense out of them. He stipulated in his will that you were to be paidyour salary for the next six months. Does that mean you're going to stayhere?"
Calhesitated. He'd fallen half in love with her that night at Billy's. Hecould fall the rest of the way in six months, considering that body and thoseblue eyes, and the sweet way she had of looking at a man as if he was the onlyperson she saw. "I guess," he said, "that's up to you. I mean, if you want acattle operation or not."
"Do they make money?"
"It depends. Ed-your father-cut back on that, too, these past few years. Weused to hire extra men in the summer, but right now it's a small operation.John's pretty much retired now, except for the horses, and you'd have todecide if you want to be a rancher or not."
"You tell me," she said, pushing the books and the calculator across thetable toward him. "See what you think of all these accounts, if I can makemoney at this."
"All right. You mind if I run these figures past John?"
"Of course not." She stood and tossed the used paper towel in the wastebasketnext to the fridge. "Thanks for the tea."
"Anytime." He stood, too, but she didn't move toward the door.
"I'll wash this." She tucked the handkerchief in the pocket of her shorts."Could you just tell me if you're planning on leaving the ranch or not? Imean, I'd like to have some idea, in case I need to look for help, in case Ikeep the cows."
"I'll stay as long as you need me," he promised, knowing it was the truth.Knowing he was in serious trouble when it came to this particular woman.
"Fair enough." She hesitated again and looked up at him. "Thank you." Thattempting little mouth was so close, he could reach her in one stride if heactually lost his mind and decided to try.
"Addie, hon, stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're waiting to get kissed good-bye," he said, watching her blush."Don't make me kiss you, because you don't have the time for me to do itright."
She actually laughed, and then said, "You're right," before she turned andwalked out the door.
And then it wasCal's turn to be surprised.
"Any other problems besides morning sickness, Mrs. Larson?"
"You mean, besides a craving for spaghetti sauce and basil?"
The young doctor laughed. "I can't do anything about that, except to confirmthat you are pregnant, as you knew already. I'll prescribe vitamins, give youthe list of do's and don't's and recommend that you find an obstetrician."
"Thank you." Finding a doctor in Nowhere had been simple, as Dr. Records wasthe only one in town. She would make arrangements to transfer the children'smedical records to his office now that she'd met him. "The doctor who delivered the twins is inAustin, but I'm not sure I want to drive seventymiles when I'm in labor."
"I wouldn't recommend it." He scribbled on his prescription pad. "Most womenaround here use Connie Hoffman, an ob-gyn just south of here, not too far fromRound Rock. Forty miles tops."
"Thank you."
"See her soon, all right? This baby is due November sixth, according to mycalculations."
"That seems so far away." But she wasn't complaining. She needed all the timeshe could get.
"And welcome to Nowhere, Mrs. Larson. The town's been waiting to meet you."
"They have?" She tucked the papers he gave her into her bag.
"Sure. Everyone wants to know what you're going to do with that big house. Iguess it used to be something, in its day. A few of the old-timers rememberwhat it looked like, and said it was real grand. You don't know it, but you're the talk of the diner right now."
Addie smiled. If they only knew. "I'll have an open house when I'm finishedworking on it," she promised.
"Afterthe baby's born," the doctor cautioned. "You're a widow withfive-year-old twins, and you need to conserve your energy. Do you have help?
You're going to need to get enough rest these next months."
"I have help," she assured him. "My mother's going to come up on weekends."
His smile was kind. "I see from your chart, your husband died three years ago. Is the baby's father involved in this pregnancy?"
"No." She slung her purse over her shoulder and slipped on her sandals. "Notyet."
Later on, while driving the boys home from their exciting afternoon at theirnew school, Addie munched on crackers and told herself that everything wouldwork out just fine. But why, when asked about this baby's father, had sheaddednot yet? Cal McDonald seemed like a good man, but surely he didn't have to know anything about this baby Not yet, anyway.
"Have you ever done any thinkin' 'bout getting married, Calvin?"
"What is this, Ask Cal Questions Day?"
"Huh?" John lifted his baseball cap and scratched his balding head.
"Never mind. The answer to your question is, no, I haven't." Not really. Notsince eleventh grade, after having sex with Mary Devlin and thinking thatmarried people got to do that all the time. And in a bed, not in the back of aBuick sedan.
The old man's gaze turned to the main house. Addie's car was there, so shewas back from town with the kids. "Not even now?"
"No."
"You might want to reconsider," the old man drawled, turning back toCal. Hisgrin almost split his face in half. "You've got some real potential here onthe Triple J."
"John, don't-"
"Don't give me that,Cal. I seen the way you look at her, and it's not hercookin' you're thinking about, either. Marriage ain't so bad."
"You're an expert?" He smiled and handed the old man a can of soda. "Here.You don't have to drink it here. You're welcome to take it home with you."
John ignored the comment. He sat down in the chair vacated by Addie earlier,and opened his drink. He didn't so much as glance at the pile of notebooks twoinches away from his elbow. "I was married once."
"Youwere?" SomehowCalcouldn't picture it. He'd worked with this man, side by side, for almost twenty years, and he'd never known much about John's personallife. "When?"
"Oh, a long time ago. I admit, I wasn't real good at it."
"What happened? If you don't mind my asking." He sat at the table andstretched his legs out in front of him. John would take his time telling thestory, of course.
"Naw, I don't mind. I was sure in love, and she was a sweet girl," he said."I met her at a dance and we hit it off just fine. Got married 'bout a yearlater. Got a little ranch nearSan Marcos, but there was no pleasing her. Shegot a little strange and then up and left one day." He snapped his fingers."Just like that, she was gone. I used to wonder what I did wrong-I wonderedfor years-but things have a way of working out. I've learned that much."
"What does that mean, 'things have a way of working out'?"
Old John shrugged. "They just do. I'm not gonna go into details here, son.I'm just trying to tell you that getting married might do you some good. Andour Miss Addie here could sure as hell use a good man by her side."
"That's some story."Calshook his head. "You tell me about your unhappymarriage and then you tell me I ought to think about it myself. Does that makeany sense?"
"Of course not." The old man looked offended. "There's nothing about fallingin love that makes any sense,Cal. That's what I'm trying to tell you!"
"Well, damn it, you won't get any argument from me."
John grinned. "You ever been in love?"
"Sure."
"Ha!"
"You don't believe me?"
"Hell, no! Unless you wuz just a kid when it happened." He took a longswallow from the soda can. "No, when you fall, you're gonna fall hard. Andsomething tells me that I'm going to be around to watch it."
"Don't hold your breath, old man." ButCal's gaze went to the window above thetable where, above the tree line, he could see the second story of the mainhouse. John was right, but a man had his pride.
Even if that was all hedid have.
"It's like that television show,Queer Eye for the StraightGuy,only just theopposite," Addie told Kate. She had the portable phone outside so she couldtalk in private.
"Honey, have you been drinking rum and Cokes again?" Kate laughed. "Or maybethe paint fumes are getting to you."
"Very funny. No, you should see this." She lowered her voice to a whisper."There are five painters and they're all gorgeous. And possibly straight."
"Possibly?"
"It's not like I can ask. They started yesterday and they're really fast, soif you want to see them, you'll have to come up this week. But you have topromise you won't distract them too much. I really want to get these roomsdone."
"I thought you were busy with a plumber."
"He's next week, I hope. He keeps calling and rescheduling, so I don't know.Calls himself the 'Yellow Hose of Texas.'"
"You're making that up."
"I swear, it's painted on his truck. A bright yellow hose with water gushingfrom one end. Very phallic."
"Speaking of phallic," Kate said, when she had stopped laughing. "How's yourranch hand?"
Chapter 7.
By Thursday morningCalhad seen all he'd wanted to of the house painters.They'd arrived early on Monday, and piled out of their vans as if they werethe answers to a woman's prayers. And since then, Addie had been in that housewith them.
Handsome and young, the men had strutted around in white shorts and tank topsspattered with paint. Their music, sometimes salsa, sometimes classical,wafted from the open windows of the big house. And Addie hadn't left the placesince they'd arrived. Her friend Kate came one afternoon, though. Johnreported seeing her car.