Rock-A-Bye Rancher

Oh, for Pete’s sake. Her fear of flying was as real as it was embarrassing.

She knew what Clay was doing. He was trying to make her feel better, and she appreciated his efforts.

“I don’t suppose we have to let Martin know about this, do we?” She took a sip of her drink, expecting to scrunch her face at the taste of the vodka and force herself to swallow. But this second screwdriver tasted better and seemed to be going down a lot easier than the first.

“Let Martin know about what?” the rugged rancher asked as if he hadn’t picked up on her distress.

“I had a bad experience a few years ago,” she admitted. “We almost crashed. Once we got back on the ground, I swore I’d never get in a plane again, at least not a small one.”

He took a swig of his scotch, then nodded at her glass. “Drink up. Then let’s share battle stories.”

“You had a frightening experience, too?” she asked.

“More than my share—on the land, air and sea. But I’ve always lived to tell about them.”

She took another big swallow, then decided to reveal her one-and-only adventure first. “When I was in college, some friends invited me to ski with them in Vail. Between them, they loaned me all the gear, and one of our classmates had a private plane and a brand-new pilot’s license.”

The memory alone was enough to bring on a shudder, but talking about it seemed to help, making her realize this trip wasn’t anywhere near as awful. Not yet, anyway.

“College students on their way to a party and a spanking-new pilot,” Clay said, sizing up her experience. “That sounds like a bad mix to me.”

“We weren’t going to a party,” Dani corrected.

She’d always been too responsible for that, too diligent with her studies to play. But it had been winter break, and she’d always wanted to know what the fuss was about snow skiing.

“So what happened?” Clay sat back in his seat, his legs extended, a long, lean cowboy completely at ease. His calm demeanor was reassuring, his presence comforting. As were the two drinks he’d fixed her.

So she settled, somewhat, into her seat. “The sky darkened, and lightning bolts shot all around us. The thunder was incredibly loud, and the turbulence was terrifying. We bounced around like a splatter of water on a hot griddle, and after what seemed like forever, we finally landed in Denver.”

“See?” he said, taking another drink, chunks of ice clinking against the glass. “You came out all right.”

“Yes, but I also left my friends in Colorado, purchased a bus ticket and went home before the weekend got underway.”

Without asking, Clay fixed them each another drink. Dani should have politely declined, but took it from him anyway. To be honest, the taste wasn’t so bad anymore. And the intoxicating effect had numbed her nerves to a tolerable level. Of course, the plane was also traveling smoothly now—or relatively, she supposed.

By the time she’d downed her third drink, she decided Clay Callaghan was not only a handsome older man, but he was also the nicest guy she’d ever met. He was very quiet, a great listener.

Or maybe the alcohol had loosened her tongue. Either way, she found herself babbling about one thing or another. After she’d told him about how hard she’d worked to pass Chemistry 103, Clay paused a beat, considering her.

“So you were the studious sort.” A slow grin deepened the lines around his eyes—green, with flecks of gold that glimmered—and brought out an interesting pair of dimples. “I thought all college kids liked to party.”

“Not me. I was practically born responsible. I had to be.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “My mom was a lot younger than my dad. I guess you could say she was flighty and irresponsible. When I was in kindergarten, she left us, so Dad and I had to fend for ourselves. Even as a five-year-old, I tried to do everything I could to make things easier for him. For us, actually.”

“At the age of five? That’s a mighty big chore for a little girl.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I helped with laundry and cooking. By the time I was ten, I could fix a hearty meal.”

“So the attorney is a whiz in the kitchen, as well as the courtroom.”

“If you like Mexican food.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, I can fix a pretty decent casserole, as long as I have a box and all the fixings.” She tossed him a smile.

His lips quirked as though he found her entertaining, and it warmed her heart. It warmed her cheeks, too.

In fact, it was getting hot in here.

“Whew.” She fanned herself with both hands.

Clay chuckled as though he wasn’t at all bothered by the temperature or by her attempts to cool off. “Well, now that you’re a high-priced attorney, you ought to be able to hire a chef.”

“Yeah, right.” She took off her jacket and laid it on an empty seat. Then she kicked off her shoes and rubbed her bare feet along the carpeting. “With three kids to raise and student loans to repay?”

“You’ve got three kids?” His voice rose an octave and a decibel level, bearing evidence of his surprise. As his gaze roamed over her, it seemed to peel away her clothes, as well as her facade.

But for some reason she didn’t care. In fact, she felt compelled to confide in him. “I’m not their birth mother, if that’s what you think. My dad remarried when I was ten. And my stepmom wanted a family of her own. So pretty soon the babies started coming, and I helped out with them, too.”

“You sure took on a lot of responsibility in your family.” His voice returned to normal, that deep, graveled drawl that seemed to suit him so well. A pleasurable sound a woman could get used to. “When did you manage to find time to study?”

“In the late evenings, when the house was quiet.” She smiled. “But it wasn’t that bad. Academics came easy for me and I did very well in high school. College, too. I even received a partial scholarship to Rice University.”

“I bet your family was proud.”

“They were. My dad and stepmom were struggling financially, but they managed to supplement the scholarship. They only asked that I provide financial assistance for the younger children’s college education.”

“Sort of a pay it forward thing, huh?”

“Well, that was the idea.”

The agreement they’d made had fostered her desire to excel first in school, then in her profession—and quickly. But she hadn’t counted on the unexpected. “During my first year of law school, my stepmom died in a car accident, and I nearly dropped out. My younger brother and sisters needed me. And so did my dad.”

“Obviously, you didn’t quit.”

“No. Somehow, I managed to make it through. Believe it or not, having a goal on which to focus made it easier to deal with the grief.”

“No one understands that more than I do,” Clay said. “You’re a strong young woman, Daniela.”

She leaned forward. “You think so?” Then she blew out a sigh, along with all the secrets she kept shoved into the bottom or her heart. “It’s been a struggle sometimes. Especially after my dad died.”

“That’s too bad.” His concern was touching, and the sound of his voice was growing on her moment by moment. It was nice. Rough yet soft. Sympathetic and supportive.

“Did your father pass away recently?” he asked.

“Yes, last year. He was fishing with some friends in the gulf and was killed in a freak boating accident.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the rugged, sexy drawl a balm.

“That’s okay. I’m doing fine. Really.” Yet tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they soon overflowed and slid down her cheeks. She swiped at them, struggling to keep up with the flow.

“Darn it. I don’t understand why this is happening. I haven’t cried in a long time and can’t understand why I’m so weepy and emotional now.” She sought his gaze, hoping he wouldn’t hold her display of tears against her.

“Tell me about the kids,” he said, as though maneuvering around the subject.

“They’re a handful. Sara, my fourteen-year-old sister, constantly complains about having to help me keep an eye on the others. And Marcos, who is ten, never fails to let me know what a pain it is to be the only boy in a family full of girls. Little Delia, who truly is a sweetheart, cries at the drop of the hat.”

“That’s gotta be tough.”

“It is. And I’m doing a poor job of it.” Dani blew out a weary sigh. “I love them. I really do. But it’s tough trying to support them, both emotionally and financially, by myself.”

He didn’t respond, but she sensed his understanding, his sympathy.

She reached across the aisle, placing her hand on his muscular forearm. “But don’t feel sorry for me. I’m going to make a name for myself at Phillips, Crowley and Norman.”

“I bet you will.”

“Do you know what?”

He shook his head no.

“Martin and everyone else at the firm think I’m a single, career-minded woman with no other responsibilities but my job.” So far she’d had them all fooled. But she feared her secret wouldn’t last long.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said.

“I try not to be.” But if truth be told, sometimes, late at night, when the kids finally went to bed and the house was quiet, seeds of resentment sprouted—when she let them. She was forced to admit to herself that the responsibility she’d inherited was overwhelming.

She opened her mouth to reveal that to Clay, as well, but for some reason, she clamped her jaw shut. Something told her she might have said too much already.

What all had she told him?

Clay glanced at his watch. “We ought to be getting pretty close to Guadalajara now.”

Dani peered out the window. Oh, wow. It was really dark outside.

“How much longer will it be?” Clay asked Roger.

“See those lights ahead?” the pilot asked. “We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes. Are you planning to go to the church tonight?”

“No,” Clay said. “From what I’ve been told, the road to the village isn’t that easy to find in the daylight. So we’ll get a couple of hotel rooms. Then we’ll hire a driver to take us at the crack of dawn.”

What a day this had proven to be, Dani thought. She’d flown to Mexico and was going to a hotel to spend the night with a client.

Well, not exactly with him…

She stole a glance at Clay, marveling at his chiseled features, the commanding way he had about him. Earlier today she’d thought him brooding and dark, but that was before she’d gotten to know him.

When she’d first met him, she decided that, for an older man, he was attractive, but now she was beginning to see that age had nothing to do with it.

Clay Callaghan was a hunk, plain and simple.

The plane veered a bit to the right, then the left, as it descended, and a wave of dizziness struck with a vengeance. Her tummy turned inside out.

Whew.

Thank goodness they wouldn’t be going after the baby tonight.

Dani wasn’t feeling very well, but if her luck held, no one would be the wiser.

Chapter Three

Upon arriving in Guadalajara and going through the port of entry check, Clay called the limousine service he’d lined up—a reputable company that had been recommended by a fellow cattleman who traveled regularly to Mexico on business. Then he, Roger and Daniela, who seemed to list to the side while walking, headed for the sleek, black luxury vehicle. The driver opened the door, and Clay held Daniela’s arm—more in an effort to steady her than to be polite.

She wobbled, then stumbled. “Oops.”

Clay reached for her, just as she lost her balance, and caught her, drawing her back against his chest. His arms rested under the fullness of her breasts, his cheek against her hair. It had been a while since he’d held a woman close. Too long, he realized.

“Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder and tossed him a silly smile. “My foot slipped, and I almost fell. Thank you for not letting me.”

“My pleasure.”

“I’ll bet it was,” Roger said with a chuckle.

When they all got inside the car, the driver shut the door, then climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Daniela,” Clay said. “Tell him we’re going to El Jardin. It’s a hotel not far from here.”

When she didn’t respond, he turned and spotted her slouched in the seat, her eyes closed, her head tilted against the backrest.

“I think she passed out,” Roger said.

Damn. Roger was right. Quite frankly, Clay found it amusing. But if she remembered in the morning, she’d probably be embarrassed.

“Vamos al hotel El Jardin,” Clay told the driver.

“Sí, señor.”

“Your Spanish sounds pretty good,” Roger said.

“I can get by.”

Roger nodded at Daniela. “So why the interpreter?”

“I wanted her along just in case we have any trouble with the law or the authorities. If that happens, we’ll need someone with a better handle on the language than I have.”

“You think so?”

Clay chuffed. “I know so. When I was nineteen, a buddy and I went to El Paso on business. We finished early, then decided to celebrate across the border in Juarez. We had a little too much to drink, I had a run-in with a couple of the locals and ended up in jail for nine scary days. And Rex, my…well, I guess you would call him my old man…spent quite a bundle to get me out. So I don’t want to take any chances on this trip. We’ll be in and out of here before you can count to tres.”

“Do you want me to go with you to the church?” Roger asked.

“No. Wait for us here. Or we’ll drop you off at the airport. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just have the plane fueled and ready to take off the moment we get back.”

“You don’t expect any problems?” Roger asked.

No. But there could be plenty. “I came prepared for almost everything.” Clay studied the woman seated beside him. Better make that “slumped” beside him. “At least, I thought I did.” A grin tugged at his lips. Damn, she was a cute drunk.

He’d only meant to see her relax, but he shouldn’t have plied her with so many screwdrivers. He’d overdone it. His lovely young attorney was a real jabberbox when she drank too much.

He wondered how much of this day she’d remember in the morning. Not that he’d tell Martin about her family situation. Or her feelings of inadequacy with the kids. Even if Clay was prone to idle chatter—and he wasn’t—who was he to cast stones at people with lousy parenting skills?

He’d raised Trevor for five years, and what did he have to show for it?

A couple of school pictures.

A roomful of books, clothes and things he’d yet to sort through.

An ache in his chest and a gut full of guilt.

Ten minutes later, the limousine pulled into the red-bougainvillea-lined drive of El Jardin, one of the nicest hotels in town. The white stucco building boasted Spanish tile floors, a hand-crafted stone fountain in the lobby and an Old-World charm that was hard to beat.

Roger sat in the car with Daniela, while Clay checked in. And after securing the keys to three separate rooms, he returned to the limo.

“Venga por nosotros mañana,” Clay told the driver, giving him instructions to return at the crack of dawn. “A las seis.”

“Muy bien,” the driver responded. “Hasta mañana, señor.”

As the bellman loaded their luggage and belongings, Clay studied the woman sleeping in the vehicle.

“How do you plan to get her to her room?” Roger asked.

“Throw her over my shoulder, I guess.” Clay shot the pilot a conspiratorial grin.

“No kidding? Like a sack of grain?”

“Come on, Roger. I’ll be a gentleman.” Then Clay stooped and reached into the car. “Hey…Daniela. Wake up.”

She mumbled something and tried to scoot forward, but her efforts weren’t especially effective. With his help, she managed to climb from the car, then swayed on her feet.

Not again, Clay thought as he caught her. But this time he scooped her into his arms.

Her eyes, the color of melted caramel, locked on his, and she grinned. “You’re stronger than I expected.”

“Nah, not really. You’re just a lightweight.” He meant her alcohol-tolerance level as well as her size.

“Think so?” She slipped her arms around his neck. “I haven’t been carried by anyone in a long time.”

“Oh, no? Then it’s my lucky day.” He took her into the lobby and waited for Roger to summon the elevator.

He juggled his lovely load, while handing the keys to Roger. “Take these. I’ve got my hands full.”

As the lighted numbers indicated the elevator was slowly coming down to the lobby level, Daniela nuzzled her head against Clay’s cheek and whispered, “You smell good.”

“Thanks.” So did she.

He savored the faint, powdery scent of her body lotion, a peach blossom scent, and the silk of her hair.

As the elevator doors opened, they stepped inside.

“Which floor?” the pilot asked.

“Third and fourth.”

Roger studied the keys, taking the one that was engraved with 406 and returned the others to Clay. “You two can take the rooms on the third floor. I think it’s best if you stay close to her. She may need a babysitter tonight, and that’s a better job for you.”

“Why?”

“For one reason, it looks like you’ve already got her under control.” Roger chuckled. “And for another, my wife would turn me every which way but loose if she thought I’d put a pretty, drunken woman to bed when I’m supposed to be working.”

When the elevator made the first stop, Clay got out. “I’ll get her settled and wait for the bellman to bring her things.”

Roger nodded, a wry grin pulling at his lips. Then the doors closed, leaving Clay and Daniela alone in the hall.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To bed.”

Her eyes fluttered, and her gaze met his. “Oh, no, that isn’t a good idea. I don’t think Martin would approve.”

Clay chuckled. Martin was a straight shooter and would undoubtedly come unglued. Even if Clay would let himself succumb to that kind of temptation, he wouldn’t take advantage of her inebriation. He liked his lovers to be willing participants.

“I wouldn’t approve of it, either,” he told her.

“Approve of what?”

That was the point. She wasn’t in any condition to be truly willing.

When he reached room 312, he set her feet on the floor, then unlocked the door and let her inside.

She was walking now, without help. But she immediately kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket. Next she began to unbutton her blouse.

“Hang on there, Daniela.”

“You keep calling me that, but now that we’re friends, you should call me Dani.”

“All right. But why don’t you wait to get undressed until the bellman brings your bag up here?”

“Okay. Good idea.” She plopped down on the bed. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I have a room down the hall.”

When a knock sounded at the door, Clay let the bellman in, pointed out which suitcase stayed and which things went to the other rooms. Then he gave the young man a generous tip.

If the bellman—Paco, according to the badge on his shirt—wondered where the baby was who went with all the stuff going to Clay’s room, he didn’t ask.

“Gracias,” Paco said, giving a slight bow before leaving.

Clay ought to leave, too, but he wanted to make sure Daniela—Dani—was settled in for the night and safe. “I’ve got a wakeup call scheduled for five o’clock. Are you going to be okay with that?”

She nodded. “I’m an early bird.”

“Yeah. A little mockingbird.” When she scrunched her face, obviously a bit perplexed, he chuckled. “You’re a real jabberbox, Dani.”

She titled her head. “I am? Do you mean that in a bad way?”

“No,” he said. “Why don’t you go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. I’ll turn down the covers for you, okay?”

She slid him a grin. “Thanks, Clay. You’re really a nice guy. A true gentleman.”

Oh, yeah? Well he didn’t feel so nice. Or even remotely like a gentleman.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

For what? Taking her away from kids who probably needed her? Putting her on a plane when she was afraid of flying? Plying her full of alcohol, just to keep her from becoming troublesome?

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