At The Texan's Pleasure

MARY LYNN BAXTER

AT THE TEXAN’S PLEASURE

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Coming Next Month

One

What was she doing?

Molly Stewart Bailey couldn’t ignore her queasy stomach a moment longer, so she pulled off the highway onto the side of the road. Quickly she turned to see if her unexpected action had awakened her son Trent who was sound asleep in his car seat, his head lobbed to one side. For a second Molly considered jumping out of the car and propping his head back upright.

She squelched that idea as traffic was swishing by her at a rapid rate and in her present state of despair, she was liable to get run over. Still, she paused and continued to look at her son, who favored her, with dark brown hair, smoky blue eyes and clearly defined features.

A friend once told Molly she had the most uncluttered face ever. When she recalled that, it made her smile.

Not today.

Her mind was in too much turmoil; maybe that was why she kept her eyes on her child.

The only feature he had of his father was…

Suddenly Molly slammed the door shut on that thought. Now was the worst possible time to travel down memory lane. As it was, it would take every ounce of fortitude and courage she could muster to do what she was about to do. But she had no choice, even though choices had consequences. In this case, the consequences could change her life forever, and not for the better either.

That was why she had to guard her heart and its secret with every bit of fight she had in her.

Shaking her head to clear it, Molly pulled back onto the highway, soon to realize she was closer to the Cavanaugh Ranch than suspected. Once again she felt a wave of nausea wash through her. So much for her vow never to return to east Texas, much less to this precise location.

But then who could’ve known her mother would fall and injure her back to such an extent she was now bedridden? Molly stifled a sigh and tried to concentrate on something mundane like her surroundings, the tall oaks decorated in their fall colors of reds, browns and golds, the pines whose limbs seem to reach to the heavens—the ponds whose waters glistened like diamonds, and the meadowlands dotted with fenced-in cattle.

Only she found she couldn’t fix her mind on anything other than gaining ground on her destination.

Nothing could usurp the fact that after almost five years she was about to see Worth Cavanaugh again. In the flesh. Cold chills darted through Molly, and she shivered. Stop it! she told herself. She had to get control of her splattered emotions and never let go of them. Otherwise, she was in for a world of hurt for the next couple of weeks, if not longer.

Gripping the steering wheel harder, Molly made the last turn before entering the long strip of graveled road which led to the ranch house atop the hill. Once there, she stopped the car and took several deep breaths, which helped settle her nerves. She’d known this endeavor wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t envisioned it being this difficult. It seemed that every nerve in her body was riding on the surface of her skin.

Not a good thing, she told herself, and not at all like her. As a registered nurse, she prided herself on having nerves of steel. Her job actually demanded it. But the who she was about to encounter didn’t have anything to do with her job. It was personal. She would soon come face-to-face with the one man she had hoped never to see again, the man who had not only broken her heart but had jerked it out and stomped on it.

“Don’t, Molly!” she chastised herself out loud, then quickly glanced in the rearview mirror at Trent. Her self-imposed rebuke hadn’t impacted him at all. He was still sleeping soundly. She frowned, realizing that in a few moments, she’d have to awaken him, which would not be to his liking, or hers. When he didn’t get his full nap, he tended to be grumpy and oftentimes hard to manage.

Waking up in a ranch setting would most likely right his world quickly, as she’d been telling him about the horses and cattle he’d see every day. She had even bought him a new pair of cowboy boots and hat in honor of this visit to see his grandmother.

Trent had insisted on wearing his new attire today, which brought a smile to Molly’s face, recalling how he’d paraded around the house, peering at himself in the mirror every chance he got, a big grin on his face.

Another sigh filtered through her at the same time the smile disappeared. Worth’s house stood in front of her, and for a second she was tempted to jerk the gearshift in Reverse and back down the drive. Out of sight; out of mind. That thought was only fleeting as the needy edge in her mother’s voice rose up to haunt her, recalling this visit wasn’t about her, Molly, but rather her mother.

As long as she kept that uppermost in her mind, she would do just fine. Molly owed Maxine Stewart more than she could ever hope to repay, and not because she was her mother, either. Maxine had stood by her, though she had been kept in the dark about much of what had gone on in her daughter’s life these last few years. If for no other reason, Molly would always love her for that.

“Mommy.”

Glad for the interruption, Molly flung her head around and smiled at her son who was now wide-eyed and kicking his booted feet. “Hey, it’s about time you woke up.”

“When can I see the horses and cows?” Trent asked right off the bat.

Molly grinned. “First things first, okay? We’ll see Granna, then the animals.”

“Granna’ll take me.”

Molly heard that comment just as she exited the Toyota Camry and came around to release Trent from his car seat. Then helping him out, she said, “Remember Granna can’t do anything. She’s in bed with a hurt back.”

Trent frowned as he jumped to the ground, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Molly followed suit, taking in the lovely manicured lawn close to the modern ranch house. Then her gaze dipped beyond to the sloping grounds where animals grazed in the distance near a blue pond.

“Mommy, look, I see lots of cows.”

“Me, too,” Molly said absently, turning Trent by the shoulders and steering him in the direction of the side door to her mother’s small living quarters. Although Maxine’s bedroom and sitting room were part of the main house, Worth had been thoughtful enough to add a private entrance, for which Molly was especially grateful today.

As splintered as she was, she didn’t need to run into Worth, not until she’d at least seen her mother and found out for herself how seriously she was injured. Beyond that, Molly intended to take the moments as they came and deal with them no matter how painful or unsettling.

“Mom, we’re here,” Molly called out, knocking on the door, then opening it.

Maxine Stewart lay propped up on a pillow in her bed, a broad smile on her still-attractive face, her arms reaching out to Trent, who seemed hesitant to move.

“It’s okay, honey, go give Granna a hug.”

“I’m expecting a big hug, you cutie tootie. Granna’s been waiting a long time for this day.”

Though Trent still appeared reluctant, he made his way toward his grandmother and let her put her arms around him, giving him a bear hug. Finally pushing Trent to arm’s length, Maxine’s eyes glistened with tears. “My, what a big boy you are.”

“I’ll be five my next birthday,” Trent said with pride.

Maxine winked at him. “Granna hasn’t forgotten. I already have your birthday present.”

“Wow!” Trent said with awe.

“Don’t get too excited,” Molly cautioned. “Next month you’ll only be four and a half, which means your birthday’s a while off yet.”

“Can I have it now?”

Molly grinned, tousling his hair. “Not a chance, boy.” Then it was her turn to hug her mother, though through it all, her heart took yet another beating, but for an entirely different reason.

Maxine’s once unlined face had wrinkles that were unavoidably noticeable and dark circles under her eyes where none used to be. Her mother appeared frail, so much frailer than she had ever been.

Though Maxine wasn’t a robust woman, she’d always been the picture of health and beauty. Friends and strangers who saw the two of them together knew they were mother and daughter because they favored each other so much. Some even told them they could pass for sisters.

Pain. That was the culprit that had so changed and aged her mother. Peering at Maxine closely through trained eyes, Molly didn’t see any signs of that pain turning Maxine loose any time soon, not if the X-rays her doctor had sent Molly to peruse were correct. At this point, Molly saw no reason to question the diagnosis.

“Mom, how are you really doing?” Molly asked into the short silence.

“Good.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Hey, remember who you’re talking to.”

Maxine made a face. “A nurse, I know.”

“All the more reason you need to be honest and ’fess up.”

“Okay, my back hurts like you-know-what,” Maxine admitted down in the mouth, casting a glance at Trent who was busy wandering around the room, fingering this and that.

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Only not for long, surely.” Maxine made a face. “You just can’t leave your job. I’d feel even worse if you lost it because of me.”

“Hey, calm down,” Molly said, leaning down and kissing Maxine on the cheek. “I have a great doctor for a boss. Besides, I have sick days, as well as vacation days, I haven’t used. Four weeks’ worth, actually.”

“Still…”

“It’s all right, I promise. I’m not going to do anything that puts my career in jeopardy.”

Maxine gave a visible sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” She smiled. “It’s so good to see you and Trent. You’re a sight for my sore eyes.” Maxine faced her grandson and her smile widened. “He’s grown so much since I last saw him.”

“He’s growing much too fast,” Molly said with a crack in her voice. “He’s no longer my baby.”

“That’s not so.” Maxine looked back at Molly. “He’ll always be your baby just like you’ll always be mine.”

Tears welled up in Molly’s eyes, but she blinked them away, hopefully before her mother could see them. “So tell me what’s going on here.”

“Are you referring to my job?”

Molly was taken aback. “No. I wouldn’t think there’s a problem with that.”

“I hope you’re right,” Maxine said, her brows drawing together. “Worth let me hire a part-time helper several months ago, which is good. She’s more or less running the house now, with me telling her what to do, of course.”

“So is that working out?”

“Yes, but this home needs a full-time housekeeper, especially with Worth thinking about entering politics.”

The last person Molly wanted to talk about was Worth. Actually, she’d rather not know anything about him period. Under the circumstances, she knew that wasn’t possible.

“I just can’t help but be a little fearful of eventually losing my job,” Maxine said, “especially if I don’t start improving.”

“Oh, come on, Mom, Worth’s not going to let you go. You know better than that.”

“Maybe I do, but you know how your mind plays tricks on you and convinces you otherwise.” Maxine paused. “I guess what I’m saying is that my mind is my own worst enemy.”

“That comes from lying in bed with nothing to keep you occupied.” Molly smiled with a wink. “But now that Trent and I are here, that’s going to change.” Speaking of Trent made her turn to check on him, only to find he was no longer in the room.

“Did you see Trent leave?” Molly asked, trying to temper her building panic.

“No, but he can’t go far.”

That was when she noticed the door leading to the main house was open. “I’ll be right back,” Molly flung over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, soon finding herself in the house’s main living area. “Trent Bailey, where are you?”

“Who is Trent?”

Molly stopped in her tracks, and stared into the face of Worth Cavanaugh. For what seemed the longest time, not only did her body shut down, but their eyes also met and locked, though neither said a word. But that didn’t matter. The tension was such that they might as well have been screaming at one another.

“Hello, Worth.” Somehow Molly managed to get those words through cotton-dry lips.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded in a curt tone, choosing to ignore her greeting.

“I would think that’s obvious.”

“Maxine failed to tell me you were coming.” Instead of curt, his tone was now in the freezer, showing no chance of thawing.

“That’s also obvious.”

Another silence.

“Again, who’s Trent?”

“My son.”

Worth’s black eyes flickered and his mouth stretched into a pencil-thin line. “Lucky you,” he finally said in a caustic tone, his eyes filled with scorn as they traveled up and down her body.

The word bastard was about to fly out of her mouth when Trent rounded the corner, racing to her side. “Mommy, I went to see the moo cows.”

Molly pulled him against her, clamping her hand on his shoulder. When he started to squirm, her hold tightened. As if sensing he was in trouble, Trent stopped wiggling and stared up at Worth with open curiosity.

“Trent,” Molly said in a tight voice, “this is Mr. Cavanaugh.”

Worth merely nodded at the boy, then looking up at Molly said, “I’d like to talk to you alone.”

Biting back another choice word, Molly peered down at Trent. “Go back to Granna’s room, honey. And don’t leave. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay,” Trent said, whirling and running back down the hall.

Don’t run, Molly wanted to shout, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Trent was already out of hearing range.

“So how old is he?”

Molly shook her head as though to clear it, Worth’s question taking her by surprise. “Almost four,” she said, lying with such ease that it shocked her.

“Good-looking kid.”

“Thanks.”

Instead of receding, the tension between them continued to rise until Molly felt either she or the room would explode. Or maybe both. She sensed Worth felt the same way, as his features seemed to darken by the second.

“How long are you planning to stay?” he asked, the muscle in one jaw moving up and down, something that always happened when he was angry or disturbed.

“I’m not sure.” She paused. “Maybe a week. Maybe longer. I’m not sure. Do you have a problem with my being here?”

“Not in the least,” he countered in a harsh tone.

“Is there an addendum to that?”

“Yeah,” he said in a parting shot, “just stay out of my way.”

Two

He’d been blindsided and he hated it.

This was his domain, dammit, and he had control over what went on here. Or at least he thought he did. Worth muttered a curse, rubbing the five o’clock shadow that covered a good portion of his face as he continued to stand on the porch outside his room. In the distance, he could see the last remnants of a sun fast sinking into oblivion.

Worth peered at his watch and noted that it was not quite five. He loved the fall of the year, especially October because the leaves changed colors. There was one exception, however. The time change. He didn’t like anything about falling backward, robbing him of an hour of light at the end of day. As a hands-on rancher, light was a precious commodity.

At this particular moment, whether it was daylight or not wasn’t what his frustration was all about. Time had nothing to do with the gnawing deep in his gut. But he sure as hell knew what did.

Molly.

Back in his life.

No way.

Not possible.

Not happening.

Only it had.

She was in his house.

And there wasn’t one thing he could do about it short of pitching her and the kid out the door. He muttered another colorful expletive, but again that did nothing to untie the growing knot in his stomach.

Granted, he’d known he would eventually see her again. To think not would’ve been ludicrous and unrealistic. After all, her mother worked for him. But since he hadn’t seen Molly in nearly five years, he’d begun to think that maybe fate was smiling on him.

Heretofore, during her vacation, Maxine had always gone to visit Molly. He’d assumed that would continue to be the case.

Of course, that was before Maxine had fallen and injured her back to the extent she’d been confined to bed. Molly returning to the ranch seemed to fit the logical order of events, which wouldn’t have been as much of a problem, if only he’d known about it.

He didn’t like surprises, especially not surprises of this nature. Almost walking head-on into her had definitely been a blow—a blow from which he hadn’t yet recovered.

The kid hadn’t helped, either.

Worth rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the hard coiled muscles under his fingers. Nothing short of asking them to leave would give him any relief. That wasn’t about to happen, at least not for several days anyway.

Meanwhile, he’d just have to put up with the situation. If Molly did like she was told and stayed out of his way, then he could manage. If not…Hell, he wasn’t about to go down that treacherous road. It would only make him madder and more frustrated.

He just wished she still didn’t look so damn good. Lovelier than even he remembered. And his memory was excellent. Never a day went by that some little something didn’t remind him of her. While that never failed to shoot his blood pressure up, he’d learned to shove thoughts of her aside and move on.

Now though, that wasn’t doable. He’d most likely see her every day whether he wanted to or not, regardless of what he’d told her. Having gotten over the initial shock somewhat and his head screwed back on straight had brought that reality home. As long as she was on his property, he couldn’t avoid her altogether. He couldn’t avoid the kid, either.

No doubt about it, she couldn’t deny the kid. Looked just like her, which wasn’t a bad thing. Molly’s dark hair that reminded him of soot, was short and stylish, a perfect backdrop for those smoky colored eyes. And that sultry voice—God, it had always been a turn-on and still was.

Even though he knew she was twenty-seven, seven years younger than he, she didn’t look it. With her unmarked skin that reminded him of porcelain at its finest, she could pass for less than twenty.

However, if one were to look closer, her figure bore testimony to her actual age. While remaining thin, with a to-die-for body, he noticed that it was more rounded, even slightly voluptuous in certain places, particularly her breasts and stomach.

Having borne a child was responsible for those added factors. Instead of detracting from her beauty, they merely enhanced it, making her body sexier than ever. Though he was loathe to admit it, he’d have to be dead not to notice. He might be many things, but dead wasn’t one of them.

There had been times, however, when he’d wished he were dead. All because of her.

After Molly had run off, leaving him high and dry, she’d killed something vital inside him, which had never been revived. Part of his heart and soul were dead and Molly was to blame.

He despised her for that.

At least that was what he’d always told himself. But seeing her for that few minutes had turned his perfect world upside down—socked him in the gut, actually. Only not for long, he vowed. Already he was remembering her for the liar she really was.

And with that recall, his confidence rebounded. Even though she was staying in a small suite not far from his didn’t mean one damn thing, although at first he’d questioned his placement of her and Trent.

Then he’d told himself, what the hell. Where she stayed didn’t mean a thing to him. Hence, he’d had Maxine’s part-time helper, Kathy, show them to that particular suite, mainly because it was close to Molly’s mother.

In addition, he’d reminded himself, she wouldn’t be at the ranch long enough to matter where she slept. He knew she was a nurse with some large doctors’ group in Houston. Hell, he’d heard Maxine brag about that until she’d finally gotten the message that he wasn’t interested in hearing about her daughter.

He often wondered what Molly had told her mother about their past relationship. He suspected it had been nowhere near the truth, which reinforced his anger. A good thing, he told himself. As long as he held onto that anger and hatred, he’d come out the winner.

And to hell with her.

Suddenly Worth heard a phone ring. It was only after the third ring he realized it was his cell. Without checking who was calling, he barked, “Cavanaugh.”

“My, you sound like you’re in a sour mood.”

“Hello, Olivia.”

He didn’t miss the aggravated sigh that filtered through the line. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Hello, sweetheart, would do for starters.”

He didn’t answer. First, he’d never called her sweetheart and didn’t intend to start now. Second, but most important, she’d hit the nail on the head. He was in a sour mood, but now was not the time to tell her why. He simply wasn’t up to fighting the war that would occur if he told her Molly was back in town, staying at the ranch.

More to the point, it wasn’t any of Olivia’s business.

“Okay, you win,” Olivia replied in an offhanded manner. “I’ll let you pout, or whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“Did you want anything in particular?” Worth asked in a cold tone, knowing he was being a first-class jerk. Yet he felt no need to apologize.

“What time are you picking me up?”

Worth’s mind went blank. “Picking you up?”

“Yes,” she said, not bothering to hide her growing irritation. “Remember you promised to take me to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, right.”

“You’d forgotten all about that, hadn’t you?”

He had, but again he wasn’t going to admit it. “I’ll be there around sevenish.”

Another sigh. “You know, Worth, I think you take great pride in being an ass.”

Silence.

“And while we’re on the subject of dinner,” Olivia added, “don’t forget about the party at my house tomorrow night concerning your political future.”

“I haven’t, Olivia.” His tone was weary. “I know my parents are invited along with a possible potential backer.”

“At least you remembered something.”

With that, she hung up.

That was two women he’d ruffled today. He wondered if his mother was next in line. Probably so, he told himself. On a normal day, he and Eva Cavanaugh didn’t see eye-to-eye on much of anything. If she’d stop trying to micromanage his life, that might change. His father, however, was a different matter. They got along fine, at least on the surface, though he felt he had never known what made Ted Cavanaugh tick.

In all fairness, his parents probably didn’t know what made him tick, either. One thing he did know was they wanted him to marry Olivia Blackburn. No. They expected him to marry her, which was the same as waving a red flag in front of a bull. He didn’t live by, or under, others’ expectations. Besides, he didn’t love Olivia. He’d made the mistake of falling in love once, and he’d never repeat it. Never.

Only problem was, he needed what Olivia could give him and that land she stood to inherit. His parents had deeded him the three hundred acres that adjoined their property, which he’d hoped would be enough to do most anything he chose in the way of ranching. But with his cattle business thriving, he needed more land.