Natural Born Daddy (4 page)

“One of these days the two of you are going to butt heads once too often,” Jordan warned his father.

“Not a chance,” Harlan said with evident pride. “That boy's stubborn as a mule. Might even be worse than you or Lucas and he's a danged sight ornerier than Erik.”

He sounded downright happy about his youngest's muleheadedness. He studied Jordan over the rim of his coffee cup. “You never did say what brought you home.”

“No,” Jordan said firmly. “I didn't.”

“Wouldn't have anything to do with that Flint woman, would it?”

Jordan's head snapped up and he stared at his father. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because you make a beeline for that ranch every time you drive into the county. Can't be sleeping with her, since you do wind up in your own bed here at night.”

Jordan's jaw tightened at the too personal observation. “My sleeping arrangements are none of your concern. Besides, Kelly and I are just friends. She's had a rough time of it these past couple of years. I try to look in on her every once in a while to make sure she's okay.” At least, that had been his motivation until last night's visit.

His father nodded. “She's getting that place of hers on its feet, though. She's got a lot of gumption and that girl of hers is a real little dickens. She called here last night to see if you'd asked yet about whether we want a kitten.”

Despite his annoyance with his father, Jordan couldn't help chuckling at Dani's persistence. The remark was also proof that his father had known he was back in town and had also known exactly where he was the night before. All the questions had been designed just to needle him.

“Did you agree to take one?” he asked, referring to the kittens Dani hadn't trusted him to save.

“How could I say no? The child was worried sick about her mother drowning them all in the creek. She mentioned that you'd reassured her that wouldn't happen, but she wasn't taking any chances.” He eyed Jordan speculatively. “Does that pitiful excuse for a father of hers get by much?”

Jordan wasn't surprised that his father knew the whole ugly story. It was hardly a secret, but even if it
had been, Harlan made it his business to know about the folks around him, including those on neighboring ranches. He was even more persistent when it came to the women in his sons' lives.

“Not that I'm aware of,” he told his father.

“Can't understand a man who wouldn't be proud to call a little one like that his own.”

“Neither can I,” Jordan said grimly. He'd expressed his views on Paul Flint more than once to Kelly, long before she'd finally decided on divorce as her only option. He'd even offered on occasion to pummel some sense into the man.

“Shame to go through life without a daddy,” Harlan observed.

Jordan regarded him intently. There was no mistaking that his father had a point to make. “Meaning?”

“Just what I said,” he insisted, sounding a little too innocent. “A child deserves two parents. Of course, a situation like that is all wrong for a man like you.”

“Now what's your point?” Jordan's voice contained a lethal warning note.

“Just that I understand you. You're not looking for some country gal and a ready-made family. I've seen your type, glossy, sophisticated, like that…what's her name?”

“Rexanne,” Jordan supplied automatically, used to his father's refusal to get the names of the women in his life straight.

“Right,” he said. “Now she's the perfect wife for a big oil tycoon.”

Jordan was beginning to wonder exactly how much his father knew about his broken engagement. It seemed to him that the digs were a little too pointed
for him not to have heard about it. He'd always despised Rexanne, just as he had every other woman Jordan had brought to White Pines. His sudden defense of her was clearly part of some Machiavellian scheme of his. He'd probably been on the phone to Ginger during the week and gotten an earful about his son's social life—or sudden lack thereof.

“I'm afraid Rexanne is out of the picture,” Jordan said tersely.

Harlan tried for a sympathetic look, but the effort was downright pitiful. There was a gleam of pure satisfaction in his eyes. “Sorry, son,” he said without much sincerity.

“She was the wrong choice. I'll get over it.” Sooner than anyone imagined, if he had his way about it.

“It's not surprising, then, that you were over to visit Kelly last night. She always has had a sympathetic ear, especially where you're concerned.”

“We weren't lamenting my love life last night,” Jordan said.

Curiosity blossomed on his father's transparent features. “Oh?”

“We were just…talking,” he finally concluded weakly, unwilling to broach the actual subject matter of their conversation. Once Harlan got that particular bit in his teeth, there'd be no controlling his efforts at manipulation.

“Just don't go letting her get the wrong idea now, son. You said yourself, she's been through a lot. No point in getting her hopes up now that you're on the rebound. No telling what a woman might do when a man is vulnerable. They can be downright sneaky when they're out to get their hooks into a man.”

“There's nothing the least bit sneaky or underhanded about Kelly,” Jordan snapped.

“If you say so, son. You certainly know the woman better than I do.”

Jordan didn't think he liked the direction this conversation was heading. Any minute now his father was going to say something truly offensive about Kelly and he would leap to her defense. There was no telling what would happen after that. His mother would probably find them tussling on the dining room floor.

He tossed his napkin down on the table and stood. “I've got to get out of here.”

“Going for a ride?” his father inquired, his expression perfectly innocent.

“Yes,” he said tightly, and slammed out of the house.

Only much, much later did he wonder what he would have seen if he'd looked back. He had the strangest feeling he would have caught a complacent smile spreading across his father's face.

* * *

With Dani visiting a friend for the day, Kelly had spent the entire morning checking on her livestock and inspecting her fences. Of course, given her state of distraction an entire section of fence could have been down and it would have slipped her notice. Fortunately the ranch hand she'd been able to afford just a month ago had been riding with her most of the day. Now, though, she was alone again, riding at a more leisurely pace.

She kept glancing toward the horizon, looking for some sign of Jordan's car. Her ears were attuned to
the sound of approaching hooves, as well, since he sometimes chose to borrow one of his father's horses and ride over.

He still looked incredibly well suited to horse and saddle. In fact, she'd always thought he looked far more impressive and a hundred percent sexier in jeans and a chambray shirt than he did in those outrageously expensive designer suits he wore most of the time in Houston. Every time he put one of those suits on, it was as if a barrier went up between them. Sometimes she didn't even recognize the man he'd become in Houston.

More than his clothes had changed. As if fitting himself to a role, he'd been transformed into a sophisticated executive, driven and sometimes, it seemed to her, a little too coldly dispassionate.

His proposal the night before had certainly fit the new Jordan. The old Jordan, the sensitive man who often sat in her kitchen talking until dawn, the exuberant daredevil who'd ridden over every square inch of her ranch and his own with her at midnight, would never have made such a proposition. He'd had more romance in his soul, even if little of it had been directed her way. Now she had to wonder if he'd wasted it all on that string of unsuitable gold diggers who'd spent the past few years trying to catch him.

She knew without a doubt that he wasn't going to give up on this crazy idea he'd gotten into his head about marrying her. One of his most attractive traits was his tenaciousness. To ready herself for the next assault, she had spent the entire morning reminding herself of all the ways to say no—and mean it.

She was so busy concentrating on shoring up her defenses, she missed the plane the first time it flew
over. The second time the sound of its engine drew her attention to the vivid blue sky. There was nothing especially unusual about a small plane overhead. Many of the more successful ranchers actually had their own planes to check out the far reaches of their land. Jordan's family was one of them. Many more ranchers hired them on occasion. There was a small but active private airport nearby.

What was unusual about this particular plane was the message trailing through the clear blue sky behind it: Marry Me, Kelly.

She stared at it with a sort of horrified fascination. She supposed a case could be made that it was exactly the sort of impulsive, outrageous thing the old Jordan would have dreamed up, the sort of thing she'd claimed only moments ago to miss. Her heart, in fact, turned a somersault in her chest, a slow loop-de-loop that very nearly made her giddy.

Her gaze riveted on that message, she bit back a groan. The whole blasted county was going to know about Jordan's proposal now. Well, maybe not that Jordan was behind it, though that news would come quickly enough. Los Pinos was small enough that nothing ever stayed secret for long, including the identity of the man who'd taken his family's plane up from the local airstrip to make his proposal in such an outrageous way. Her phone was probably ringing off the hook already.

Even as she watched, the plane made another slow loop and circled back. Just when it reached a spot directly overhead, she saw something being scattered through the sky. Like confetti falling, it drifted down until the first touch of pink landed on her cheek. Rose
petals, she realized at its silky touch against her skin. The man had filled the sky with rose petals.

She sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of them, then lowered her head and rode deliberately away from the cascade of pink. Tears stung her eyes. He was making it awfully damned hard to say no. So far, though, he hadn't come close to the one thing that would have guaranteed a
yes.

She reached the house just in time to see him settling his tall, lanky frame into a rocker on the porch. At the sight of her he stilled and waited, his expression oddly hesitant. That was a new side of Jordan altogether, one that stole her breath away. Not once in all the years she'd known him had he ever appeared the least bit vulnerable. He'd always been terribly, terribly sure of himself.

“You have rose petals in your hair,” he said quietly.

“Funny thing about that,” she said just as quietly, her gaze caught with his. “They were falling from the sky.”

His mouth curved into a slow smile. “Amazing.”

“Not many men could make that happen.”

“Maybe not. I suppose it takes a man intent on making an impression.”

Kelly sighed. “Jordan, you've never needed messages in the sky or rose petals to make an impression on me. Don't you know that?”

He seemed to sense that she hadn't been as impressed as he'd hoped. “What does it take?” he asked.

She reached up and patted his cheek. “I think I'll let you think about that awhile longer.”

Undaunted, he followed her into the house, heading straight for the kitchen as always. This time, though, he maneuvered past her and reached for the cups himself. He looked as if he needed to stay occupied, so Kelly washed up at the kitchen sink, then settled herself at the table and waited.

He filled the kettle and put it on the stove, then lingered over her selection of herbal teas. “Which one?”

“Orange spice, I think. The situation seems to call for a little
zing.
”

“What situation would that be?” he inquired, leaning against the counter, his gaze on her steady and unrelenting.

She really hadn't wanted to get into this again today. In fact, she had warned him the topic was off-limits. Those blasted rose petals had made that impossible. “This notion you've gotten in your head,” she said.

“About marrying you?”

She grinned at his quick-wittedness. “That's definitely the one. It appears to me that this breakup with Rexanne has hurt you more than you're willing to admit. Perhaps it's addled your brain.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. Did you really love her, Jordan? Was I mistaken in thinking that she just came along at the right time, at the precise moment when you'd decided you needed a wife to complete your transformation into solid citizen?”

He went very still. “Transformation?”

Kelly almost chuckled at his expression. “I seem to recall a boy who ran away from home at seventeen to be a wildcatter on the oil rigs. Then there was the
disruption you caused at the high school when you got on the public address system and performed a rock song you had composed. The lyrics, as I recall, had every teacher blushing. The principal had to take the rest of the day off, she was so stunned. And let's see now, there was the summer you rustled a few of your own daddy's cattle, so you could start your own herd.”

A once-familiar impish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Not fair,” he accused. “I was only seven when I did that.”

“It was, however, the beginning of a highly notable career as the family rebel. I'm sure Harlan despaired of your ever turning into someone respectable.” She surveyed him closely, from the neatly trimmed brown hair to the tips of his polished boots, and regretted that his hair no longer skimmed his collar and his boots weren't worn and dusty. “I'd say you beat the odds. A wife would complete the package.”

“You make it sound so cold and calculating,” he objected.

She shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

“It doesn't. I'm thirty years old. It's just time I settled down.”