Pretend Mom

Pretend Mom

BY RITA HESTAND

Smashwords edition

Copyright ©2009 Rita Hestand

Smashwords Edition

License Note

This book is licensed for your personal
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for respecting the hard work of the author.

Dedication and/or
Acknowledgement

I would like to dedicate this book to
all the small towns of America. It is from the roots of these towns
that America has built its backbone. The friendliness and charm I
hope will always be with us. God Bless America!

CHAPTER ONE

Dixie Kincaid felt weak, almost sick.
Her fear of flying had taken its toll. On wobbly legs she careened
down the exit ramp toward the main gate. Taking a deep quelling
breath, she pushed her chestnut hair from her face. Willing herself
not to tremble, she grasped the wall for support as she glanced
around for a familiar face. No one stepped forward. No one called
her name.

For a split second she secretly wished
Kevin had been here to greet her. But then, she knew that was
merely wishful thinking. Why should he?

It had been three long years since
she'd been home, and then only to be whisked to the cemetery and
back to catch her plane. It had been seven years since she had
actually spent any time at her home. Much too long, she quickly
realized.

She glanced about for a familiar face.
There were none. And suddenly she felt very alone. Maybe because
she was so used to cameras and newsmen greeting her. She had wanted
it this way, she reminded herself. No cameras, no newsmen, just
someone from home to greet her. There was no one.

Perhaps she might have to rent a car
and drive home. She hadn't thought of that. She fumbled in her
purse for her luggage ticket.

"Hello, Dixie," A deep voice that
shocked her, a southern drawl that could only belong to one man,
and made Dixie almost drop her luggage ticket.

Before she realized his intention, his
lips feather-touched hers.

Hints of cattle, hay and clean earth
filled her nostrils—a strangely compelling scent.

Goose bumps prickled her skin, making
her tingle; the kiss spoke of coming home, of being cared
for.

When the man pulled away with a
satisfied smile and Dixie was left to compose herself, and her
thoughts.

"Welcome home." The man's voice sounded
raspy, his eyes glittering into hers.

"Mike Dalton!" she murmured aloud,
trying to make sense of his actions and her reactions. Gathering
her wits about her, she cast him a disdainful glance as she tried
to control her shaking limbs. First an airplane ride from hell, now
a bolt from the blue like Mike Dalton greeting her. And what a
greeting! A kiss was the last thing she expected from Mike. What
next?

Just because he kissed her didn't mean
she'd changed her mind about him, nor he about her. He shouldn't be
here, her mind reeled. But then she knew why he was! Summoning her
control she straightened her denim jumper and gave him a guarded
smile.

His eyes glistened as his moist lips
firmed into a warm, welcoming smile. How could he stand there and
look so self-satisfied?

His roughly etched features hinted a
hawk-like quality as he stared down into her surprised face with
amusement.

Mike vibrated his own brand of southern
charm. His grin was too wide, his nose was a smidgen crooked, and
those eyes, not even a real brown, more gold—and all seeing. His
hair, a rich shade of mahogany, was short cropped and invited a
ruffle as he adjusted his hat. Pleasantly handsome—and terribly
compelling, he wasn't the kind of man a woman could walk away from
without remembering.

In faded jeans, a white shirt and a
jean jacket, he wore the word virile like some men wore
after-shave.

Despite her better sense, Dixie's heart
raced to an odd beat. A familiar beat she thought long forgotten.
She never understood her reactions to Mike. No one affected her
like Mike, not even his brother, Kevin. There had always been this
electrical current running between them, as though there were
things unspoken. It made absolutely no sense how his mere presence
could affect her equilibrium. It had been seven long years since
she laid eyes on Mike, and yet it seemed like yesterday as he
stared back at her with that same familiar expression.

He knew instinctively how to confuse
her emotionally. That kiss raised more than a little curiosity,
obviously in both their minds, from the expression on his face, as
though he was surprised by his own actions.

Where was her family? Why weren't they
here? And why did this stubborn, handsome man have to stand here
and look at her so smugly?

Deep down, Dixie suspected she knew why
Mike was here. It was Kevin. Mike was still protecting his brother
from the vamp. Her!

Veiling her thoughts, Dixie glanced
innocently at him. "I suppose you're here to pick me
up?"

"That's right. Everyone was tied up at
the time. So, I volunteered."

"How nice of you. Forgive me if I'm a
little startled to see you, Mike. But you're about the last person
I expected."

"I gathered that much." His glance slid
over her like thick hot fudge melting over ice cream. "You look a
little shaken; you want to get a bite to eat?"

"That might be a good idea." At least
with food in her mouth she wouldn't have to do much
talking.

Mike's smooth southern drawl brought
Dixie's eyes to his penetrating gaze. "Great. I forgot breakfast,
myself. But let's get something down the road, okay? The prices
here are outrageous."

He touched her elbow and guided her
through the growing crowd. In a matter of minutes he had rescued
her luggage from a baggage chute and carried both cases with ease
to his slightly battered pickup.

Mike watched her hug the door with open
amusement. She couldn't help but wonder if she measured up to his
expectations. He certainly did to hers.

That kiss didn't fool her though—just
rattled her.

Once they were settled and on their
way, he switched on the air-conditioner. She had forgotten how
unbearably hot it got in Texas.

"So, are you staying long?" His glance
met hers across the small confines of the truck.

"No, it's just a vacation."

"Then New York is still your
home?"

"It's where my work is, yes. I've been
there seven years and I'm finally making progress."

He didn't seem that interested. That
didn't surprise her, since Mike had been the one who had scoffed at
her making a singing career seven years ago.

He maneuvered the truck like a
well-trained horse.

"I've heard you on the radio." He
checked the traffic before pulling onto the highway.

She swallowed a dose of pride she left
behind. "I didn't think you liked rock music."

"Not particularly, no."

He didn't explain, she didn't
ask.

"I kinda expected you to show up in one
of those weird costumes most rock stars wear on stage."

"I don't usually travel in full
make-up. I didn't want to be recognized. I even went so far as to
use a phony name with the airlines. And obviously it
worked."

"Yeah, I could see where that could be
a problem."

She met his mocking smile.

Knowing Mike was old-fashioned and
believed a woman belonged in the home, having babies, she refrained
from elaborating on her work. Although she had to squelch the
overwhelming desire to brag about herself. He probably wouldn't
believe that she liked her work, even though it wasn't what she
really wanted to do.

"So . . ." Mike drawled, his eyes
escaping the long hot road long enough to send her a quizzing look.
"Are you married now?"

"No—uh, I've been too busy to settle
down. Besides, that's not about to happen until I find Mr.
Right."

"Mr. Right. That's interesting. Is that
what you're waiting for?" Now he was goading her.

"I'm not waiting for anything." She
squirmed as the air-conditioner made a funny noise and clicked
off.

Mike banged on the dash and the air
came back on. "Sorry, I've been meaning to have that
fixed."

"I'm surprised you're still driving
this . . ."

Grinning he nodded. "Best work truck I
ever had. Couldn't give old Betsy up."

Surely this wasn't the only vehicle he
owned. "You haven't bought a new one?" She bit her lip for
asking.

"No need. This gets me where I want to
go."

"How can you impress a woman in
something like this?" she squawked.

"I'm not trying to impress anyone,
especially a woman."

When an awkward silence ensued, she
chanced a glance at him again. "So, why didn't Emily and the boys
come with you?"

Mike didn't answer right away. The
traffic was thick, people were just getting off work and Mike
seemed frustrated all of a sudden. Perhaps he wanted to be rid of
her.

Finally he shot her a smile and another
long lazy glance as they came to an abrupt halt. Someone with car
trouble ahead was holding up traffic.

"Emily got involved in the annual
church charity bazaar again this year," he said. "She was elected
to the committee. And you know how she gets when she's involved in
something for the church. She knew you'd understand, though.
Besides, it's still a long drive home, and Emily was never fond of
travel. Especially traffic jams on freeways during a heat wave. I
think she'll be relieved you're finally home, though."

"She sounded strange on the phone. Like
there was something she wanted to talk about but just couldn't on
the phone. I sensed there was something wrong."

"Oh, I wouldn't say there's anything
really wrong, but she is anxious to talk to you." There was a car
pulled onto the side of the road. "Do you mind if I stop and help
them? They've got three kids in the back seat and, in this heat,
that can't be much fun."

"No, go ahead." Dixie craned her neck
to watch.

Mike shook hands with the man, and in
minutes they were busy with the lug nuts. A few minutes later he
came back to the truck, and threw his tools in the truck
bed.

They were halfway across town when he
spotted a place to eat. "This all right with you?" He gestured
towards a hamburger drive in.

"Sure, sounds great right now. I'm not
sure I could wait since you have to stop off and pick up a—bull,
didn't you say?" She gestured toward the trailer he was
pulling.

"Sorry about that. It won't take long.
I've already signed the papers and paid the man, so all I have to
do is load him up and take him home. It was on the way home so I
figured might as well kill two birds with one stone."