The Marriage Season

Tate looked at the boys in the backseat, equally soaked and laughing loudly about something or other, Ben leaning over to punch Adam in the arm. Tate said, “I suspect the vehicle in general might need to dry out, so don’t worry about it. Do we still have a date tonight or will you be too worn out?”

She sat down and reached for the seat belt, clicking it in place. “I believe I owe you. I’ll be fine tonight. Who’s watching the boys or are they coming along?”

He loved his sons, but no way.

Tate went around and got into the car. “Can you picture them selecting bathroom tile or kitchen countertops? Hadleigh offered to watch them. I accepted. She said she’d be happy to have Josh, too.”

“You do know she’s matchmaking.”

He almost didn’t hear what she’d said because the boys were getting rowdy and he’d just flipped the ignition switch. Bex sat there, dripping, looking straight at him, as if life was like the marathon she’d just run, something to be met head-on and conquered.

Tate conceded. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” What else could he say?

* * *

THE RED SILK DRESS was too much for what was essentially a trip to the hardware store, so Bex changed again. Black pencil skirt and white camisole with a pale gold sweater. Okay, that was better. Besides, after 26.2 miles, heels weren’t an option, so plain black flats were, at any rate, comfortable. Her toes needed some TLC.

Bex had no idea where they were going for dinner, so for Mustang Creek, this outfit was middle ground. A little upscale for Bad Billie’s, but dressy enough for O’Henry’s on a Saturday night. There weren’t a lot of other decent choices.

Tara was watching television again, but at least she was with Josh. She’d readily agreed to the idea of his spending the evening with Hadleigh and Tripp, which wasn’t entirely reassuring. Bex felt almost guilty for going out.

Almost, she told herself firmly. Josh would have fun at the ranch, as he always did, and she deserved a night out.

“You look nice.” Tara stirred, finally showing some animation. “Tate Calder must be worth the mascara and lip gloss.”

She thought about Tate’s wavy chestnut hair and those magnetic dark eyes. He was worth the effort, no question about it. “He saw me sopping wet earlier. It seems like the only time I see him is when I’ve been running. I thought I might try to make a better impression.”

“You’re always pretty, Bex.” Her sister’s eyes were glassy with tears. “Thanks for everything you’ve been doing for Josh. Thank Tate for me, too, will you? I can’t deal with it right now.”

Bex had to admit she wished Josh hadn’t heard that. “I love Josh, so everything’s okay. We’re going to meet Tate at the ranch. You ready to go, buddy?”

He grabbed his backpack. “Yep.”

“Maybe give your mom a hug before we head out?” She suggested it gently. It was their relationship, Josh and Tara’s, and they didn’t need her interference, but she couldn’t figure out how to deal with her sister at the moment, so he was probably even more confused.

Tara held her little boy close and murmured against his hair, “Have fun with Aunt Hadleigh and Uncle Tripp.”

They made a quick exit and Bex debated again about asking him how he was feeling as she pulled out of the driveway, but decided to take Tate’s advice and wait.

If Josh himself mentioned it, that would be different. At his age, she, Hadleigh and Mel hadn’t had any secrets from each other, but she wouldn’t have shared them with an aunt, either, so that was something to keep in mind. Maybe Ben and Adam were the key; Josh might talk to them.

Tate’s truck was already parked by the house when they pulled in, and all three dogs swarmed out to meet them. It was heartwarming to see Josh jump out and laugh as they greeted him, tugging at his backpack and leaping up to lick his face. He loved it and he needed it. She’d get him a puppy—she’d thought about getting a dog more than once—but for all she knew, Tara would move out tomorrow, and dogs needed to be walked and trained, and her own schedule didn’t permit it. So far, Tara had no place to go, since Greg was still living at their rental, so with everything up in the air, a puppy was the worst decision in the world. In theory it sounded great, but if Josh had to leave his new dog behind, and she had to find someone else to take care of it... Good intentions, sure. But a really, really impractical idea.

She could swear her life had been simple at one time.

Tate came out to greet her, that unforgettable smile firmly in place. She was relieved to see that whatever he had in mind, he’d dressed like her to the extent that he wore khaki slacks and a button-up blue shirt, but no tie.

The dogs and Josh raced into the house. He took her elbow and guided her toward his car. “Let’s get the hell out of here while it’s calm. I brought over every game system we have. Tripp will be as riveted as the boys. He’s hooking it all up now. Hadleigh’s already figured out she can watch a movie in another room with her feet up and toss a frozen pizza in their direction. You can say hello when we pick them up. Let’s go select the paint, the appliances and whatever else goes into a kitchen and be done with it.”

“I know Hadleigh, and she won’t feed children a frozen pizza.” Bex climbed in the truck and he closed her door then got in on the driver’s side.

“I was joking. She did say something about roasted chicken and broccoli. I wish her luck with the latter, but anything’s possible. They’re now sold on her spinach lasagna, although I have to take some credit, since I told all three boys the spinach was a wild plant cowboys used to eat.”

“Clever.”

“It seemed to work.” He backed out of the drive. “Ben was probably on to me, but Adam bought it and he’s the picky eater. Speaking of which, if you are, tell me now, because I was thinking Thai food for dinner.”

There was certainly no Thai restaurant in Mustang Creek, so Bex sent him a quizzical look. “I love Thai. Mel, Hadleigh and I used to eat it all the time in college, but the closest place I know of is pretty far away.”

“Not if you fly.”

“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to her. “You have a plane?”

“Sort of.”

“How do you sort of have a plane?”

He shrugged. “Technically it belongs to my father. He doesn’t like flying commercial, which means we have an arrangement. He bought the plane, he pays for the hangar and if he wants to go somewhere—business or pleasure—I man the cockpit. My aunt gets to keep the boys while I’m gone, which she loves. So everybody wins.”

Bex felt a certain amount of curiosity about the kind of business that allowed a person to buy a plane, but she didn’t ask. It sounded as though Tate came from a well-to-do family, but she was lucky that money wasn’t actually one of her problems. “Sounds like it,” she said. “What are you going to do with the horses if you have to pick up and leave?”

He pulled out onto the road and headed in the direction of the municipal airport. “Tripp introduced me to the local vet. Nice guy and he wants to go in with me. We’ve met a couple of times and I trust Tripp’s judgment. Another win-win, since I’d obviously have to hire him, anyway. I know horses, since I was raised with them, but I don’t know a lot about breeding them yet. Nate Cameron has that part down, so I’m on board with taking care of the day-to-day and building the stables, and he’s willing to come and stay at the house if I have to fly out. We’re still hashing out the business details, but it looks good.”

It did sound good and Bex also knew Dr. Cameron; he was pleasant, reliable and competent. He’d gone to high school with Tripp and Will. His practice was mostly large animal, but he did have a clinic for small animals open several days a week with an older veterinarian who was close to retirement.

That brought her thoughts back to Tara. She’d dated Nate Cameron for about six months during her senior year. Why couldn’t she have married him instead of Greg?

Tate distracted her from that thought, which was just as well, since it was going nowhere. “My boys want to go fishing,” he said, “and I have a friend with a cabin on a nearby lake. Do you suppose Josh would like to go? I don’t know Greg, but if he’s inclined to join us, that would be fine with me. The place is rustic, outdoor facilities, woodstove, and there’s nothing to do but hike and fish. If Greg’s the outdoor type and wants to come along, he’s invited.”

That was generous. Very.

Score another point for Mr. Calder.

“I’ll ask my sister to have that conversation with Josh. I’m sure he’d love it. And I’ll tell her to mention it to Greg.” Who probably wouldn’t love it. Not one bit...

CHAPTER FIVE

HE SUSPECTED IT was unfair not to prepare her for his family, but then again, it was impossible to be prepared, so Tate had made an executive decision just to hope for the best. As the plane touched down sweetly on the landing strip, he thought it might be prudent to say something.

“You’re probably about to meet my aunt and my father. Unless they’re out, in which case we’re in luck, but my aunt’s usually there. After my mother died, she moved in and took over, sort of like a certified dictator at large. She’s terrifyingly efficient.”

Bex looked startled, and he didn’t blame her. Her gold-green eyes widened.

He pointed at the house. It was far away but there was a Jeep parked near the airstrip to get back and forth. “There’ll be a lot more decorating choices around here than in Mustang Creek. The builder suggested I go to a more cosmopolitan area to pick out what I wanted and have it shipped. I’m hoping this will be a forever house for me, so why skimp at this point, right?”

“Right,” she said, but the word wasn’t loaded with enthusiasm. She was gorgeous in a slim skirt and a sweater that set off her eyes, and he knew his family would embrace the idea that he might be seeing someone. Meeting them so early on, though—that was asking a little much. He figured the run together didn’t count, so this was their first date.

The house was like a minicastle minus the turrets. Most people found his father’s place a bit...overwhelming. Should he have given her more warning, some kind of initiation, so to speak? Well, too late now. He’d better get this out of the way. He opened the Jeep passenger door in what could only be described as a gentlemanly fashion and, despite her tight skirt, she climbed in with matching grace. That shouldn’t surprise him; she was an athlete, after all.

The more he told himself he didn’t have the time or inclination to date Becca Stuart, the more he was convinced he was going to override the system and do it, anyway. Ben and Adam liked her, and that really counted.

Then there was the undeniable sexual attraction. Tate was drawn to Bex on a very basic level—other interests aside. That had never been in dispute, not from the moment they met.

Not exactly what he needed at this point in his life, perhaps, but things didn’t always go as predicted. Or as planned.

Aunt Gina was home. She’d heard the plane, so there was no going back. She was already on the front porch, waving hello, when he pulled up in the Jeep; she hesitated briefly when she saw that he wasn’t alone.

“Hello.” Tate didn’t even turn off the ignition, but jumped out, returned the offered hug and stepped back. “We aren’t staying. We’re on a shopping trip, so I’m taking the Jeep into town, then we’ll fly back to Mustang Creek from here. This is Bex Stuart, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Bex said, looking—and sounding—a little shy.

“And you, as well. Surely you can stay for dinner.” His aunt, petite and dark-haired, was eyeing Bex with a speculative gaze, her size no indication of her force of will, which could blast the top off a mountain. He sensed approval on the appearance front, but there was plenty in Bex’s appearance to approve of—all of it, in fact.

Maybe he was just being hopeful that they’d get along.

He sidestepped the dinner invitation. “Some other time when I can give you advance notice,” he told his aunt gently. “We’ll grab a bite in town. Bex has had a long day, so we need to make it an early night.”

For once, Gina let it go. “Your father’s on a conference call at the moment, but at least stop in and say hello on your way back.”

A clear order.

“Will do,” he agreed hastily, all but saluting.

As he and Bex drove away, turning onto a street that was lined with discreet driveways and manicured lawns, Bex asked him, “Is every date with you this interesting?”

“Wait until you get to the exciting part where we look at kitchen countertops and built-in ovens,” he said drily.

“This is quite the neighborhood.” She gestured at the massive rooflines they could glimpse in the distance, behind the professionally landscaped grounds.

“Not what you’d call homey, is it?”

“It’s impressive, anyway. May I ask in general terms what your father does for a living? Oil wells? Gold mines? Diamonds?”

At her joking tone, he shot her a sidelong glance. “Nothing so glamorous. He owns a manufacturing company that makes engine parts for almost every major car company in the world. I’m sure the conference call is with Japan or Germany or someplace like that. He does a lot of business in the US, but there’s a high demand overseas, as well.”

“Rich kid, huh?”

He had been. Part of that had been good, part of it not so good. “I’ve made my own way. Other than my college tuition—and I had an athletic scholarship, so I essentially paid for some of the tuition myself—Dad doesn’t give me a dime, and I don’t ask for anything. Never have. I earned the money to pay for the land and the new house by working some long hours and making a few decent investments. I thought about asking my father if he wanted to invest in the breeding venture, but he’s still ticked off at me because I turned down a corporate pilot’s job arranged by a friend of his. I would’ve been away from home a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time, so I said no. Dad’s great, don’t get me wrong, but growing up, I barely saw him, he worked so much. I want to raise my children.”

“You do seem emphatic about it.”

He was. Tate couldn’t have explained why he was telling her so much, but he’d been dated for his trust fund before, although he already knew Bex wasn’t the type to marry for money. His wife, Sandra, had felt differently, though, so he wanted to be clear on that before he entered into any potential relationship. Making that mistake once was definitely once too often.

He continued, his voice even. “The plane is a compromise. I don’t mind being able to fly now and then, because if I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place. And I don’t mind letting the boys have time with their great-aunt when I take my father here or there on short business trips. But Mustang Creek is the kind of place I wish I’d grown up.”

“It’s great,” Bex said. “Hadleigh and Mel and I had a ball as kids, riding our bikes everywhere, eating ice cream in the park, playing Optimist softball... Small-town stuff, but those are good memories.”

He turned on to Cheyenne’s main thoroughfare, busy with traffic, and headed toward the warehouse store his builder had recommended, saying he often did business with the company. They were reliable and carried quality materials. “Seems to me the three of you are still making them. Good memories, I mean.”

“That’s true—not that everything’s quite as simple these days.” Bex laughed, her profile serene. “Hadleigh’s the impulsive one, and Melody can be outspoken, not to mention stubborn. I have my faults, too, of course. I can be really competitive, but I’m also the peacemaker in the bunch. If we were all the same, I doubt we’d get along so well.”

“I’d really like it if Ben, Adam and Josh formed that kind of friendship. They’re young boys, so they’re over-the-top sometimes, but they seem to enjoy being with each other. It’s good for all three of them. My kids are new to town, essentially, and Josh is going through a tough time.”

“The fishing trip is a wonderful idea.”

Tate spotted the building and pulled into the lot. “You aren’t the one who’s going to be taking all those minnows off the hook.” He chuckled. “Hey, we’ll have fun. They’ll learn to pee in the woods, like real men.”

“Don’t you dare encourage them to do that,” Bex warned, but she was laughing again.

“Males are born with that instinct,” he informed her, “so I won’t have to encourage them.” A pause. “Okay, let’s get the hard part over with, shall we? The shopping, I mean. Even though I can make decisions with the best of ’em, choosing kitchen cabinets isn’t one of my strong points.”

* * *

IT WOULD’VE HELPED if he’d taken her by the construction site so she could get a feel for the layout and materials of his new house before he’d flown her halfway across Wyoming to do something as important as advise him on his “forever house,” as he’d called it. He’d mentioned something earlier about seeing the place, but that idea had fallen by the wayside.

Still, Bex had to admit, it was fun to look at the different kinds of granite and marble, backsplashes, faucets and other fixtures, spending someone else’s money. Tate had asked for her opinions, after all. He approved the spruce cabinets she suggested, and the perfect bronze handles, too, and offered no resistance when she steered him away from granite to a poured concrete countertop a slightly darker color than the cabinets.

“A farmhouse sink,” she said firmly as they surveyed that aisle. “It’s beautiful and it’ll suit the rustic nature of the house.”

“I don’t even know what you mean by a farmhouse sink. Feel free to enlighten me,” he added mildly. “To me, a sink is a sink. That’s why I asked for advice.”

At first he balked at the six-burner gas stove, not because of the price, although that was substantial, but because he claimed he could cook about five dishes, and none of them required more than two burners. Bex reminded him that preferences tended to change over time, and so did circumstances. He might meet a woman who practiced the culinary arts in a serious way...or he might develop a passion for them himself. Plus, his sons would grow up and most likely have wives and children of their own, which meant there’d be family gatherings—Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays and who knew what other celebrations. Then he’d see the wisdom of a properly equipped kitchen.

Tate seemed enthralled, if a bit amused, by the broad picture she painted.

Finally, her case made, she brought the speech full-circle. “It’s your forever house, right?” She ran her hand lightly, almost wistfully, along the gleaming top of the stove. “I think I can speak for most women and say that I’d love to have something like this. My rule is, if you’re going to do it, do it right.”

A stainless-steel side-by-side refrigerator with a bottom-drawer freezer came next, and by then they’d covered the basics. Tate put the total on his credit card—a massive amount—and didn’t blink an eye when the woman obviously assumed Bex was his wife.

Beyond a doubt, this had to be the most unusual first date ever.

“Food,” Tate said succinctly as they left the building. “Next order of business. Apparently, making domestic decisions, especially about kitchens and fridges and stoves, causes intense hunger.”

Bex smiled and agreed that it was time to eat. Privately, she was glad he hadn’t accepted his aunt’s invitation to dinner. The people in Tate’s family were probably quite friendly, but sitting down to a meal with them might be too much, too soon.

Besides, she had no idea where this was all going—or if it was going anywhere. Tate was a widower and he’d never mentioned his wife. He had two young sons to bring up, a major construction project to complete and a new business to organize.

Bex’s own situation was hardly less complicated; she had her sister and nephew living with her all of a sudden, plus fitness club franchises opening across the country, which meant that, of necessity, she traveled a great deal. There were “significant learning curves” attached to “growing the business,” as her financial adviser, who had a great fondness for corporate clichés, constantly told her. And, deep down, she wasn’t completely sure she’d ever gotten over Will’s death a decade ago.

Bex grasped the permanence of that loss, accepted that there were no guarantees in life. But emotionally...well, some part of her still expected her lost soldier to come marching home.

Granted, things were different now. Tate wasn’t fighting in a war. Unfortunately, there were other dangers besides bullets and bombs and, like anybody else, he could die. He was a man who flew small planes and would be working with large animals, both situations that could put him at risk... Death could happen close to home, not just on a faraway battlefield, as it had with Will.

Bex pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She was with an attractive—make that sexy-as-hell—man. No need for any big decisions yet. If ever...

Why not simply enjoy the moment?

The restaurant was busy, since it was a Saturday evening, but they got a table for two fairly quickly, which might have been due to the flirtatious hostess and her interest in Tate as he explained that, no, sorry, he hadn’t made a reservation. Bex was still trying to decide if she should be amused or annoyed when they were seated.

“Does that always work?” she asked, settling in.

“What?” Oh, so innocent.

“That suave, charming way you have. That smile.”

He pretended to be puzzled, picked up his menu and finally grinned at her over the top of it. “Assuming that I am suave and charming, with a memorable smile, I have only one question. Do any of those things work on you?”

Now they were getting onto unstable ground. In fact, this was a quicksand sort of question. Bex felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach, unrelated to hunger, and took her time answering. “The way a man smiles certainly makes a difference to a woman,” she said seriously, feeling like a humorless fool, but unable to respond in kind. “And yours just happens to be wicked.”

He flashed it then, full force, with that hint of a dimple in his left cheek included, no doubt, to increase the wattage. “Fear not, fair damsel,” he teased. “You’re safe with me. Translation—lighten up a little.” He watched her for a long, silent moment. “I think you just gave me a compliment. I’m still processing that.” Another pause. “My aunt liked you.”

Bex had managed to relax, ever so slightly. “She saw me for about thirty seconds.”

“I know Gina Calder pretty well. She has the instincts of a barracuda when it comes to sizing people up.” Another of those conversational hairpin turns followed. “Are we ordering separately or do we want to share?”

This entire evening she’d been outmaneuvered. Bex gave up. “I say we share. You choose for both of us because I’m too hungry to think. I am planning to have a glass of wine, though, and I’ll feel guilty you can’t, but my feet still hurt and you didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family. So we’ll be even.”

“I would never drink and fly a plane or drive, but I supervised three boys for at least half the day. Do I get sympathy points for that?”

“Absolutely. Once we touch down safely, I’ll be the first to hand you a cold beer.”

“Like a serving wench? You’d wear the outfit? I want a low-cut bodice.”

“Don’t push it.”

In the end, ordering was a joint process, and they chose spring rolls and mango salad to start, followed by shrimp pad thai and lemongrass chicken; everything was delicious. Her glass of California chardonnay was exactly the kind she liked and accompanied the meal perfectly.

She did meet his father briefly later that evening, when they stopped by the house. Tate’s dad was an older version of his son, with some silver at his temples and a genial smile.

Later still, as they taxied along the runway before takeoff, she was already yawning. “He seems nice.”