Authors: Cathy McDavid
“I’m all right.”
“You don’t need to be getting sick.”
“I have a better idea,” Ethan said. “The wheel’s almost fixed.
Gavin and I don’t need your help to finish.” He turned toward Conner. “The keys
are in the ATV. Why don’t the two of you head on home? I’ll drive the wagon and
Gavin can ride ahead of me on the other ATV.”
“Sounds good,” Conner agreed. “I’ll come back as soon as I drop
Dallas off at the ranch. You should be well on the way to finishing by
then.”
“I can stay,” Dallas protested.
“Don’t be stubborn. It’s been a long day. You’re cold and
tired.”
“You are, too.”
“But I’m not pregnant.” He refastened his jacket and unearthed
one of the rain ponchos from the wagon bed. “You’ll need this. For a
windbreaker.”
When she didn’t budge, he put an arm around her shoulders—and
was immediately reminded of holding her during their near kiss earlier.
Lucky Gavin and Ethan hadn’t shown up then. He could easily
guess what would have gone through his friends’ minds.
Given the curious glances they were directing at him and
Dallas, their suspicions were already aroused.
He removed his arm.
That didn’t stop the stares.
“Come on, Dallas. Think of the baby.”
“All right, all right.” Relenting at last, she grabbed her
camera bag and the rain poncho and stomped off toward the ATV.
Conner sat down first. She straddled the seat behind him,
adjusting her camera bag and encircling his waist with her arms. He tried not to
notice how nice she felt pressed against him.
“Call my cell if you have any problems.” Conner started the
engine. “Reception’s better at the top of the hill.”
“Will do,” Gavin hollered back.
“If it gets too cold for you,” Conner said to Dallas as they
crested the rise, “let me know.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
As if he could
not
worry about
her.
What had taken an hour by wagon required only fifteen minutes
by ATV. He had to admit she was a trouper, enduring the harrowing night ride
without complaint. He drove the ATV right up to where her car was parked behind
the barn, and pulled to a stop.
She got off first, peeled away the rain poncho and dug in her
zippered jacket pocket for her car keys. “Thanks for everything you did today.”
The headlights flashed when she activated the automatic door lock.
“Been better if the wagon wheel hadn’t broken.”
“I’m just glad it was at the end of the ride and not the
beginning.” She opened her car door.
“Dallas. Wait a minute.”
“If you’re thinking about trying to kiss me again—”
“I’m not.” He paused. “Okay, I am.”
She smiled.
“But I’m not going to act on it.”
“Probably wise.”
Was that a flash of disappointment he saw in her eyes?
He must be wrong. The light was playing tricks on him.
“We should talk,” he said.
“We should. But not tonight.”
With a hand on her wrist, Conner stopped her from slipping in
behind the steering wheel. “We can’t ignore what happened.”
“I don’t intend to.” She sighed and met his gaze. “How could I?
If the mare hadn’t interrupted us, I’d have kissed you. And I’m pretty sure I’d
have liked it.”
Conner couldn’t help himself, and grinned—foolishly, he was
sure.
“We’ll talk,” she said resolutely. “In a few days or a week.
I’m just not ready to tonight.”
“Dallas—”
“Please. I get it. You and I, we’re walking through a series of
land mines. I’m fresh from a two-year relationship. I’m pregnant. And my
ex-fiancé took your job. It couldn’t get more complicated.”
She didn’t add that Conner was struggling financially and had
yet to find a decent job. Two more land mines.
“Have a good night, Dallas.” Ignoring everything they’d just
agreed on, he leaned in and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. So much for
maintaining a strictly professional relationship. She didn’t pull away. “I’ll
call you tomorrow. Let you know what the authorities say about the mare and
colt.”
“Thanks.” She climbed into her car.
He stood back and waited. The engine didn’t turn over right
away, grinding once, then twice. He was about to suggest she pop the hood when
the engine suddenly caught and roared to life.
The moment her car disappeared around the corner of the barn,
Conner got back on the ATV. He didn’t drive up the trail to join Gavin and
Ethan, he practically flew.
He’d kissed Dallas Sorrenson. Again! He might regret it later,
but right now, he was pretty damn happy.
Chapter Six
“Thanks, Sage. Dinner was delicious.” Dallas rubbed her
full stomach. “If I keep eating like I have lately, I’ll be as fat as a house
soon.”
“Enjoy yourself. Being pregnant is one of the few times in your
life you get to indulge. Then it’s back to dieting. I still can’t fit into my
prebaby jeans.”
Gavin’s gaze took in his wife from head to toe, the look in his
eyes that of a man who appreciated what he saw.
Dallas wondered if Richard ever looked at her that same way,
with such unabashed longing. She thought not.
Conner did. She’d seen him when he thought her attention was
elsewhere. Just as she feared she looked at him.
“I’ll help you with the dishes,” she said, when Sage collected
the nearly empty lasagna pan and rose from the table.
“Nonsense. That’s the girls’ job. Right, girls? You can show
Gavin and Conner the pictures you brought once we clear this mess away.”
On cue, Gavin’s daughter, Cassie, and Sage’s daughter, Isa,
pushed away from their chairs and scooped up more dishes from the table,
obedient but not excited about the prospect of fulfilling their nightly chore.
Cassie’s faithful companion, Blue, a happy-go-lucky cattle dog, jumped up from
his place beneath her chair and trailed after her.
At thirteen, she was poised for transformation from girlhood to
womanhood, and eagerly anticipating high school in the fall. She’d talked of
little else during dinner. Free from typical teenage drama, she was patient with
her seven-year-old stepsister and clearly enraptured with her brand-new baby
brother, who was currently enjoying the attention of “Uncle” Conner.
Dallas observed the pair as unobtrusively as possible while
retrieving her portfolio from the counter.
Who’d have thought it? Conner was a natural with babies.
He cradled little Emilio, or Milo, as everyone called him,
close to his chest. The baby, bathed, dressed in pajamas and swathed in a cotton
blanket, resembled a miniature mummy. He cooed and gurgled contentedly, perhaps
because he heard Conner’s heart beating.
“Milo looks happy,” Dallas observed.
“He definitely has a preference for Conner.” Gavin wore a half
serious, half joking expression on his face.
Conner beamed broadly. “That’s because I’m better looking than
you.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Sage patted Gavin’s shoulder. “He’s just
had more practice with babies than you.”
“Practice? You?” Dallas blurted, before catching herself. Did
Conner have a child she didn’t know about?
“It’s been a while, but my two sisters are a lot younger than
me. Fifteen and thirteen years. I was the only guy in high school who could
dribble a basketball with one hand and bottle feed a baby with the other.”
“You didn’t mind babysitting?” Dallas was intrigued. Conner had
mentioned sisters before, but she hadn’t realized they were significantly
younger than him.
“It was torture. At first.” His cocky grin softened to a warm
smile. “Then I got kind of used to the little rug rats.” He gave Milo’s chin a
tickle.
“He whined like a girl when he went off to college.” Gavin
snorted. “Missed his sisters more than he did his friends.”
“I did not.”
Conner took the dig in stride, which made Dallas think that
maybe he had shed a tear or two at being separated from his siblings.
“Do you see them much?” she asked.
“Whenever I can.”
“Every free weekend,” Sage clarified.
Just when Dallas had convinced herself she could stay away from
Conner and the potential for more kisses—even chaste ones like last night—he had
to go and show her another incredibly sweet and touching side.
He liked babies and was good with them.
He might even like her baby, too.
No. No, no, no. This had to stop. Contemplating any kind of
relationship while she was pregnant with Richard’s child was simply out of the
question.
Opening the portfolio, she withdrew several dozen of the best
photos from her and Conner’s trip into the mountains, having spent the afternoon
getting them developed and enlarged. She hadn’t wanted to arrive at dinner
empty-handed.
The photo on top was one of the many including Conner.
He’d called her late last night to let her know that he, Gavin
and Ethan had arrived safely home with the wagon. Other than Dolly and Molly
being spent, all went well. She’d suspected the men were also spent.
As she’d requested, there was no discussion of their kiss—the
close call on the hill or the peck on her cheek at her car. Instead, their
conversation had been brief, impersonal and to the point. She blamed exhaustion.
Then decided Conner, like her, was having second, third and fourth thoughts.
His conduct toward her today had been that of a family friend
and business associate. What it
should
be.
Why, then, was she disappointed?
“These are the ones of the box canyon and the ride there.”
Returning to her chair, she started with the pictures for the book, fanning them
out in front of Conner and Gavin.
“Here, let me have Milo.” Sage relieved Conner of the baby, who
emitted a gurgle of protest at losing his comfy roost. “First a bottle, then
bed.”
“See ya, buddy.” Conner gently tweaked Milo’s toe through the
blanket. “You ever find yourself hankering for a night out with the boys, come
see me.”
“Conner Durham,” Sage admonished, shielding Milo with her body,
“you try and corrupt my son before he’s full grown, and I’ll have your hide. I
swear.” She fired Gavin a warning look, as well. “You, too, buster.”
Conner and Gavin exchanged conspiratorial glances.
“I saw that!” She huffed, and then addressed Dallas. “If you
want, you can rock him to sleep when you’re finished here. Practice for when you
have your own baby.”
Dallas was filled with sudden warmth. “I’d love that.
Thanks.”
“You two finish your homework when you’re done with the
dishes,” Sage instructed the girls. “No TV till then.”
“I need help studying my spelling words.” Isa had tucked a dish
towel in the waistband of her jeans to serve as an apron.
Just like Cassie, Dallas noticed, and smiled.
“I’ll help you,” Gavin said.
“Cassie, can
you
help me?” Isa
pleaded. “Please?”
“Sure, squirt.” She tousled Isa’s hair.
“Humph.” Gavin looked displeased. “I think I’ve just been
insulted.”
Isa came over and gave Gavin’s neck a hug. “You’re the best
riding teacher, but Cassie’s better at spelling.”
He patted her cheek. “All right. If you put it that way.”
“These are good.” Conner had been sorting through the pictures,
picking up first one and then another.
“They are,” Gavin concurred. “Going to be hard choosing only a
few for the book.”
When their favorites had been determined and set aside, Dallas
showed Gavin and Conner the pictures of the mare and colt. Even after examining
the images repeatedly throughout the day, she was shocked yet again—by the
extent of the mare’s injuries and the savage cruelty of whoever had shot
her.
“Sage called her boss at home earlier,” Gavin said. “Told him
about the mare and baby.”
“What did he say?” It being Sunday, Dallas hadn’t expected any
progress until Monday at the soonest.
“He’s going to contact both the Forest Service and the
Scottsdale police as well as the deputy director at the Game and Fish.”
There was a lot to be said for having connections. After a
four-month maternity leave, Sage had just returned to work as a field agent for
the Game and Fish Department.
“According to him,” Gavin continued, “possibly all three
authorities have jurisdiction in the Sonoran Preserve.”
“What about capturing the mare and colt? Will they send
someone?”
“The Forest Service is going to notify the rangers in the area.
Advise them to be on the lookout.”
“That’s not much.”
“It’s all they’ve got. For now. They don’t have either the
manpower or the resources to chase down loose horses in the preserve. Neither do
the police, especially when it’s likely the mare and colt will wander off or go
back to where they came from.”
“What about the Game and Fish?”
Gavin shrugged. “The wheels move slowly.”
“But you’ll go after them, right?” she asked.
“We discussed that today.” Conner leaned back in his chair.
“It’s a long shot. The preserve is nine thousand acres and the horses could be
anywhere.”
“You just said—”
“We’ll give it a try. Business comes first, however.”
“I understand.” Dallas didn’t quite know why she cared so much
about the mare and colt and their welfare. Perhaps becoming a mother herself had
something to do with it. “How can I help?”
“Send the photographs to every newspaper and TV station in
town. Pressure them into running the story.”
“I’ll also speak to the head of the Arizona Animal Welfare
Association.” Dallas was acquainted with him through her volunteer work at the
no-kill shelters. “He may have some ideas. And influence with the media,” she
added, “if I don’t get anywhere. With luck, someone knows who shot the mare and
will turn them in.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Conner said. “But we may find her
owner.”
“I can also print up flyers. Distribute them to the ranches and
residential communities located in the foothills.” Her enthusiasm grew as the
ideas took shape. “The mare’s friendly. She’ll probably seek out other horses.
People, too. If they can’t capture her and the colt, they can report their
location to us.”
Dallas hadn’t hesitated including herself.
“It’s worth a try,” Gavin concurred.
“I’m riding out tomorrow afternoon.” Conner fingered the edge
of one particularly gruesome picture. “With Ethan and Javier. Clay’s willing to
help, too, and can spare a few men.”
“That’s great!” Dallas’s gaze went from Conner to Gavin. “Thank
you.”
“I figured if we didn’t help, you’d hound us relentlessly.”
“And you’d be right.” She began assembling the pictures on the
table. “If you want to keep any or all of these, go right ahead. I have copies,
print and digital, at home.”
“I’d like that,” Gavin said. “I’m sure Sage and the girls want
to see them.”
“I have one for you.” She reached in her portfolio and withdrew
the striking photograph of Conner and Molly standing on the hill, the city
sprawled below them, the mountains behind them. “It came out really good.”
“Hmm.” Conner’s brows rose as he studied the photograph.
“Let me see.”
He tilted the picture toward Gavin.
“Nice. Impressive. You going to send it out?” he asked
Dallas.
“I have a client or two who might be interested.” She reached
into the portfolio for a release form and a pen. “Any chance I can get you to
sign this?”
Conner passed the photo to Gavin and took the form. “You really
think you can sell the picture?”
“Possibly. And if I do, I’ll compensate you. Standard rate for
models. It’s right there in the release.” She pointed to a paragraph in the
middle of the first page.
“You don’t have to pay me.” His tone took on a slight defensive
edge.
“It’s customary. I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I
haven’t sold the photo yet and may not. But just in case—” she flipped the top
sheet over “—you sign at the bottom of page two.”
Conner hesitated and glanced at his friend. “Would you?”
“Hell yes,” Gavin said. “Be a kick to see my ugly mug on a
calendar.”
“On one condition.” Conner returned the signed release form to
Dallas. “I’d like a copy of the picture. Two. One for me, one for my mom.”
“Deal. I’ll bring you a whole dozen tomorrow. Different
sizes.”
“No need to make a special trip.”
“I don’t mind. I have to take a few more pictures of the
sanctuary. If you have the time for me, that is.”
“He’ll make the time,” Gavin insisted. “I want this book ready
for our spring donation drive.”
Sage appeared in the entryway between the kitchen and hall,
Milo in her arms. “You done here, Dallas? I have a sleepy young man who’s ready
for bed.”
Gavin raised his arms over his head in a huge stretch. “He’s
not the only one.”
“I should get going.” Conner pushed away from the table. “From
the way things are shaping up, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
“See you later.” Dallas hoped her eagerness didn’t sound in her
voice.
It obviously did, for Sage stared openly. Gavin, too.
Conner’s look—filled with longing—was the one that really got
to her.
* * *
A
SMALL
NIGHT
-
LIGHT
LIT
the corner of the nursery with the rocking chair. Dallas settled onto the chair,
a fed and cooing Milo in her lap. Sage perched on a footstool painted with
Mother Goose characters, and watched her son, an expression of devotion on her
face.
“Are you sure it’s bedtime, Mom?” Dallas arched her brows.
“He’s acting wide-awake to me.”
“He’ll get sleepy once you start rocking him. The kid has zero
staying power.”
Dallas adjusted Milo, nestling his head in the crook of her
elbow and his bottom on her tummy. Pushing with the ball of one foot, she set
the chair in motion. He gazed up at her with curious gray-blue eyes, shoved a
pudgy fist into his mouth and gurgled happily.
She fell instantly in love. “If you ever need a babysitter, I’m
available.”
“You’re going to have to fight Wayne for that privilege.”
Dallas thought of Sage’s father-in-law and nodded confidently.
“I can take him. I will, too, for a chance to spend time with this handsome
guy.” She leaned down and bumped foreheads with Milo.
“I’ll keep you in mind for a backup.”
Without thinking, Dallas began humming a lullaby. “Hush Little
Baby.” The one her mother used to sing to her and Liam.