An Honorable Texan

She’d been one special woman.

Maybe she still was. Maybe he was worrying too much, but he’d learned to be cautious. He’d trusted his brother to take care of the family ranch, and Troy had changed everything. He’d trusted the military to let him out when his time was up, and they’d extended his duty.

What else could possibly happen?

CHRISTIE ARRIVED EARLY, requested a booth near the back and tried not to show Peter how nervous she felt. She settled him in the wooden high chair and spread a handful of finger food on the table in front of him. Oblivious to her worries, he babbled and grabbed a handful.

She would have preferred finding a babysitter for Peter, but she knew so few people: Toni Casale on a professional basis, Raven York via the telephone, the daytime front-desk clerk at the motel in Graham. She didn’t know any of those women well enough to ask them to watch Peter while she went to lunch with Cal. Besides, they might not be good with children.

Maybe she should go ahead and hire a nanny. She rarely felt she needed one, but with the upcoming renovations on the motel, perhaps it would be wise to have a professional available to watch the baby. He was crawling and nearly walking, and getting into everything. She had to settle down, perhaps even find a house in Brody’s Crossing for a few months until the owner’s suite at the motel could be finished.

Unless, of course, Cal absolutely pitched a fit, rudely and publicly denounced her and his son and told her to get out of town.

Would she listen? Her first instinct was no, she would fight. But for what? If he was insistent that he didn’t want to acknowledge Peter, maybe they would be better off without him in her son’s life. She didn’t have to stay in Brody’s Crossing. Her nice condo in downtown Fort Worth waited for her, if she chose to move back, or she could buy a house in the suburbs. She wanted to give Cal a chance for all their sakes, but only if he wanted to be a positive part of Peter’s life. A bad father was worse than no father at all, in her opinion.

Her own father hadn’t been bad, but he hadn’t been nurturing and kind, that was for sure. When she’d done something he approved of, however, he’d been generous with his attention and his money. His love, as he defined the emotion, had been conditional.

Oh, why was she worrying so much? Cal would be here soon, and she would know almost immediately how he’d react to the news that they’d created a son together.

“Ba-ba-ba,” Peter demanded, banging on the table, scattering finger foods.

“Are you ready for your bottle already?” she asked. “Okay, Mommy’s hurrying,” she said, digging in the diaper bag on the seat beside her. Once she found it, she motioned the waitress over. “Could I get some warm water, please?”

“Of course. What can I get you to drink?”

“Iced tea would be fine,” Christie replied, fishing for the terry-cloth bib she kept for Peter’s feedings. “Here it is,” she said to the baby, and held it up for him to see.

And sat frozen in place. Standing behind Peter’s high chair was the man she’d known for only three days. He wore a plaid Western shirt, jeans and a stern expression on his handsome face. He stood tall and seemed lean, yet more imposing, his shoulders broader. He should have been a stranger, but he seemed so familiar.

That’s because you look at a baby version of his face every day.

“Cal,” she whispered.

“Christie,” he replied, his face tight. An angry red scar cut across his temple, between his eye and his hairline. “What’s going on?”

“Lunch,” she said, motioning to the other side of the booth.

He sat down, stiff and distrustful, and eyed Peter as if he’d never seen a baby before.

“Cal, this is Peter,” she said, and the baby turned his head toward her and grinned when he heard his name. “He’s—”

“Here’s your hot water,” the waitress said, “and your tea.” She set both on the table. “Oh, hi, Cal. Welcome home. What can I get for you?”

He looked as if he were trying to force a smile for the waitress, but the gesture came out more of a grimace. He must really be upset.

“Iced tea, please, Twila,” he said, then added as soon as the girl left, “and maybe I should have a beer or a shot. What do you think, Christie? Do I need a drink?”

“I don’t know, Cal,” she replied, getting a bit irritated. “I suppose that depends on how well you take the news that you’re a father.”

Chapter Two

Christie hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but he’d acted so…sarcastic. Sure, this was a surprise, but he didn’t have to imply he needed to be drunk before finding out he was a father.

Now he was slightly pale, making the scar on his temple stand out even more. He stared at Peter, and the baby stared back, so she took the opportunity to mix the powdered formula with the warm water the waitress brought for his bottle.

Finally, she got the temperature of the formula right and glanced up. Cal was now staring at her. “You aren’t breastfeeding.”

“No, I couldn’t. I tried, but it doesn’t always work out.”

He looked at her as if it were her fault her milk hadn’t come in. Fine. What did he know about babies, anyway? He might know a lot about calves, but Peter didn’t have four legs, and she didn’t have an udder, and Cal wasn’t going to make her feel as if she were less of a mother because she couldn’t nurse her son.

“You’re sure he’s mine?” Cal asked.

“Oh, that’s a typical male question,” she said, popping the nipple into Peter’s mouth. “Of course I’m sure he’s yours. We can have a paternity test at any time, although I think that by looking, you can see who he resembles.”

“What happened to ‘I can’t have children’?”

“Obviously, the doctor I saw in Europe was wrong. Or maybe he told me I couldn’t have children because of my husband. I don’t know! His English was terrible and I don’t speak Italian. At the time, all I knew was that I would never be a mother.”

“Not the case,” he mumbled.

“No, and despite your obvious opinion of the situation, I’m thrilled to have Peter.”

“Would that be Calvin Peter Crawford V?”

“No, that would be Peter Simmons Crawford. I took the liberty of giving him your last name and listing you as the father on the birth certificate, although if you don’t want to be a part of his life, his last name can always be changed. He’s too young to know the difference, and quite frankly, I don’t need child support and Peter doesn’t need the influence of a reluctant father.”

Cal stared intently at the baby as Peter took his bottle, sitting up in the high chair as he now preferred. Gone were the days when he automatically snuggled into her arms and let her feed him. Now he was all about independence. In a few more months, she suspected he’d begin saying, “No, I’ll do it myself!”

“He might not know the difference, but I do. I’ll know. I’ll know I missed seeing the first months of my son’s life. Missed naming him after my father and grandfathers. So he’s what, nine months old?”

“Nine months last Wednesday.” She took a deep breath. “And even if you’d known about him, you still would have been away. They don’t give a leave because you discover you’re going to be a father.” She knew because she’d checked.

“No, but I could have seen his pictures. I could have done…something.”

“I took tons of photos. I have them all for you, including the ultrasounds.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Christie? Write me a letter, an e-mail, or call the ranch?”

“I did call the ranch, but I wasn’t about to tell your brother or Raven before I told you. Frankly, I didn’t think it was any of their business. I wanted to tell you in person. I didn’t think this was something you should find out in a letter or e-mail when you were thousands of miles away.”

Cal sat there even after the waitress brought his iced tea and Christie told her they’d order in a few minutes. He sat and watched Peter struggle to hold his bottle, then hurl it across the table when he didn’t get it tilted at the right angle to get the formula out. Christie handed the bottle back to her son, and soon he found the right angle and began to suck greedily.

When Peter was just about finished, he hurled the bottle in Cal’s direction again. Cal caught it, and when he looked back at Peter, the baby was grinning. He banged his little fists on the table and looked so adorable that Cal smiled back. They stared at each other, and Christie’s heart skipped a beat.

She wished she had her camera. She wished she’d thought to document father meeting child.

“I have a son,” Cal said softly.

“Yes, you do.”

And to complete the moment, Peter squealed and threw a Cheerio at Cal.

“HAVE YOU BEEN TO THE RANCH?” Cal asked after they’d ordered lunch.

“I drove out there, but you didn’t appear to be home yet, so I didn’t go to the door. The animals are wonderful, though.”

Cal snorted. She was such a city girl, thinking animals were “wonderful.” She probably didn’t know a dairy cow from beef on the hoof.

“Where are you staying?”

“In Graham, for now, but I’ll be moving to Brody’s Crossing.”

“Why? Don’t you live and work in Fort Worth?”

“I quit my job a few months before Peter was born, and, yes, I still have my place in Fort Worth.”

“So you mentioned you don’t need my child support. This might sound a little rude, but how are you getting by?”

She sighed and wiped a little milk from the baby’s mouth. His baby. Peter.

This was going to take some getting used to.

“I already told you I’m a widow. My husband left me rather well off. And also, I should let you know, I come from a wealthy family. I was working for my father’s company, SHG, when we met in Fort Worth. That’s Simmons Hotel Group. He inherited a few hotels and expanded the business. I inherited a trust fund.”

“Oh.” She was wealthy. Even he, a small-town rancher, had read about those hotels in the business sections of the paper. Christie Simmons probably had more money than he’d ever see in a lifetime. “So now you’re just hanging out in Brody’s Crossing and Graham, waiting to see what my reaction would be to the news?”

“Of course I wanted to see your reaction, but I decided to stay in town before you came home. Actually, I’ve bought some property of my own, and I’m starting my own business.”

“Yeah?” He was just about to ask what she’d possibly do in Brody’s Crossing when Twila brought their food. He’d ordered chicken-fried steak—something he hadn’t had in a year and a half—while Christie had chosen a chicken tenders salad. At least she’d found something on the menu she liked. She was obviously more accustomed to eating gourmet food in fancy restaurants.

Not that either one of them had paid much attention to food that weekend they’d spent together…. He shook off the errant thoughts and asked, “What business?”

She shifted and fiddled with her salad before looking back up. “The Sweet Dreams Motel near downtown.”

He almost jumped out of the seat. “That old place? It was falling down twenty years ago!”

“I don’t doubt that, but it has a certain appeal,” she said as she sprinkled a few more little cereal circles on the high-chair tray for Peter.

“That place should have been bulldozed years ago, and would have been, if the city could make it go away.”

“No! It’s wonderful—it’s so retro.”

“It’s old, that’s what it is,” he said, stabbing his chicken-fried steak with his fork. “You won’t be able to open it as a motel for at least six months. Maybe a year, if ever.”

“I’m hoping for a fall opening. Perhaps around Labor Day if I’m lucky.” She righted Peter after he leaned sideways in the chair and dropped cereal on the floor.

“That’s pretty aggressive. Who’s doing the work?”

“Toni Casale’s company—Casale Remodeling,” she answered before taking a bite of salad.

“She’s good, but I’m not sure even she can save that old motel.”

“We’ll save it together. I’m committed to making it into a viable business again. Retro is in. I can get great press from the Dallas–Fort Worth area. It’s not too far for a quick weekend trip, which adds to the appeal.”

“Well, you’re the marketing expert. I just think it’s a waste of time.” He tried to concentrate on his food, which tasted a lot better than he remembered. Christie planned to open a business here in Brody’s Crossing, but she’d also kept her place in Fort Worth. He wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t really making a commitment to live here. She’d get bored or frustrated with her project and leave. It wasn’t as if she needed the money.

“I can understand your reservations about the property, since you’ve seen it as only a run-down motel.” She shrugged, then flipped her head to send her long blond hair behind her shoulder. “I disagree, of course, but I understand.”

Nice of you, he felt like saying, but didn’t. He didn’t want to argue with her. He didn’t care about the old motel. He cared about the fact he now had a son who wasn’t named after him, and a former lover who’d sort of moved to his hometown while he was recovering from a roadside bomb.

“You can’t stay in Graham in a motel for six months,” he said after finishing his meal. “That would get darned uncomfortable for anyone, much less with a baby, I imagine.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh, pushing lettuce around the bowl. “I’m going to look into renting a house here until the owner’s suite I’m planning is finished. We’re doing that one first, of course, so Peter and I will be able to move in.”

He would no doubt regret what he was about to say—if not today, then soon and probably often. But, dammit, he could see that Christie was serious about renovating that old motel, at least for now, and that meant she was going to be in town for months. With his baby. He pushed his plate back and folded his arms on the table.

“Look, now that I’m home, Troy and Raven are leaving tomorrow for New Hampshire. She needs to get back to her farm, and Troy is starting a new job.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “Since you need a place to stay and I’ve got plenty of room at the ranch, why don’t you move in out there?”

“Move in with you?” She sounded slightly appalled.

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything but live at the ranch. Frankly, I doubt you’ll be able to find anywhere to rent that would be suitable for a baby. My house might not be plush, but it’s comfortable and clean. Raven fixed it up a little. Painted the walls and stuff like that.”

Christie pushed away her salad bowl. “I’m sure the house is fine, but…well, we hardly know each other. Won’t your friends and neighbors jump to conclusions?”

He shrugged. “I suppose they will. After all, we have a child together.”

“You’re going to tell everyone that Peter is your son?”

“Of course!” What, did she think he was ashamed of having a son? He wasn’t, but she should have named the baby after him, in the tradition of the Crawford firstborn sons. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change the baby’s name….

“I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the news, so I tried to be careful.”

“I’ve found it’s better to be up-front about things my friends and neighbors are going to discover anyway. They can be nosy and sometimes they’ll interfere. That’s just the way things are in a small town.”

Twila came and cleared away their dishes after chatting a bit. Peter began to fuss, then cry. Christie efficiently unlatched the seat belt on the high chair while Cal watched, feeling completely out of his element. He knew nothing about babies. He could shove a bottle in an orphaned calf’s mouth, dose him with antibiotics, vaccinate him and do a half dozen other procedures, but he’d never been around a baby. Maybe if he’d had a chance to get used to the baby when Peter was a newborn, he’d feel more confident, but right now, the baby’s needs were a complete mystery.

All the more reason to spend time with his son, no matter how scary the idea.

“I think we’ll go. I’ve got to stop by Toni’s office, then Peter needs a nap. Besides, I need to consider your offer.”

He stood up. “For how long?”

She looked up at him, looking a little frazzled. By the crying baby or by him? “I…I’m not sure. Maybe until tomorrow.”

“I’ll help you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” she answered, but he was already picking up the diaper bag. That and the baby carrier were a lot for one woman to carry.

She preceded him out of the Dewey’s, Peter held high on her left side, facing backward. The baby watched him as he followed. Cal resisted the urge to make a silly face at the fussing baby. Would that make the little guy laugh or cry? Cal wished he knew. He wished he felt comfortable enough with his child to find out. Of course, they’d just met.

At the front, Christie paused for him to open the door.

Cal stood there, feeling as if he was being watched. He slowly turned and looked around.

Everyone seated in the restaurant section of Dewey’s had focused their attention on him. He felt a blush creep up his neck. Damn, what a ridiculous reaction. “Hey,” he said to no one in particular.

“Welcome home, Cal,” Police Chief Montoya said from a nearby table.

“Cute baby,” fellow rancher Rodney Bell said with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Cal answered. Then he smiled and added, “He’s mine.”

PETER WENT TO SLEEP as Christie drove to Toni Casale’s office just down Main Street past the grocery store Toni’s parents owned. The redbrick and black-trimmed two-story building adjoined others and sat right on the wide sidewalk.

A timeline for the renovations needed to be set now. Toni had said she’d check with the subcontractors for availability of work crews for the aggressive opening Christie wanted.

But in truth, she’d do almost anything to keep from thinking about moving into Cal’s house, on his ranch. Just her, her baby and her baby’s daddy.

She’d never thought of moving in with Cal. She’d envisioned renting a place, if the initial meeting with him went well, and letting father and son get to know each other. Slowly. Then, if she decided to stay in Brody’s Crossing, they could maybe make other arrangements. She liked Cal, she was still attracted to him, but she didn’t want to rush into a relationship.

Spending the weekend with Cal had been exciting, wonderful and…temporary. A weekend didn’t make a lifetime. Even when you thought you’d have a lifetime, sometimes you didn’t.

A feeling of panic threatened, as it sometimes did when she thought about being a single mother, and she took several deep breaths as she pulled into a parking space in front of the office. Today she felt very much alone. No one else could give her advice, not really, although there were several friends she could ask back in Fort Worth. But she had to make the decision about Cal herself rather than rely on the advice of other people. After all, it wouldn’t be them out there, isolated. Especially at night.

She realized she’d been stopped for too long, her SRX in Park and her son asleep in the back. With a shake of her head, she turned off the engine and opened the door. From the backseat she grabbed the diaper bag and unlatched Peter’s car seat. Careful not to slam the door, which would wake him for sure, she looped the car seat handle over her arm and walked toward the office.

A nice-looking man exited at the same time she reached for the door, so he held it open for her and Peter. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a killer grin. Why couldn’t Cal be so easygoing? She didn’t remember him being as serious and opinionated as he was now. Maybe the military service had changed him, or perhaps he was really upset about Peter.

“Are you here to see Toni?” the man asked, pulling Christie back into the present. “I’m her big brother.”

“Yes, I am here to see her. I’m Christie Simmons. I’d shake hands, but I need both to hold the baby.”

“Leo Casale. And I completely understand. I’d offer to help, but I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine. It’s nice to meet you, Leo. Toni mentioned that you own the hardware store.”

He smiled again, showing a dimple in his left cheek. Leo was very attractive, looking more like a Nordic god than an Italian entrepreneur. “Makes it convenient for a sister in the renovation business.”

Christie chuckled. “I imagine she’s a good customer.”

“She drives a hard bargain.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m renovating the Sweet Dreams Motel.”

“Really? Wow, that’s great. We need a motel in town.”

“That’s what I’ve heard…although not everyone feels the same way,” she said, thinking again of Cal’s negative reaction.

“Who?”

“Oh, never mind,” she said with a smile. “I should get inside.”

“Of course. He looks like he’s really asleep, so maybe I could carry him without waking him up or dropping him.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m getting used to carrying a nearly twenty-pound baby, a ten-pound car seat and about the same in the diaper bag. It’s like taking a workout with me, wherever I go.”

He chuckled as he held the door open. She saw him eye the empty ring finger on her left hand. “Nice meeting you, Christie. I’ll be seeing you around town.”

“I suppose so.” If she wasn’t mistaken, Toni’s big brother had just flirted with her! She’d never piqued a man’s interest while holding her baby. “Nice to meet you, too, Leo.”

He grinned again and waved as he took off with a long stride down the street.

Toni was in her office, talking on the phone when Christie entered. Peter was still sleeping, so she took a moment to look around. The small office was more functional than decorative, and Christie admired the exposed red brick, wide crown moldings and copper-colored pressed-tin ceiling. There were very few indications that this was a woman’s business. Christie mostly speculated that Toni had planned it that way, to succeed in a male-dominated business.

“Come on in,” Toni said as she hung up the phone.

“I thought I’d drop by and see if we could work out a schedule. I have some decisions to make about living arrangements.”

“Yes, I imagine you do, with Peter to consider,” Toni said, smiling at the sleeping baby.

“I’ve thought of renting a house.” As opposed to staying with Cal at the ranch. Peter went to sleep around seven-thirty every night, leaving lots of “alone time” for two adults who hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other when they’d first met. Now, their situation was more complicated, and adding temptation to the mix probably wasn’t a good idea.

Toni frowned. “I’m not sure what’s available at the moment. We’ve had several families move here recently, but no new houses built yet. There might be more choices in Graham, but that’s a longer drive.”

“I was hoping to find something close. It doesn’t need to be luxurious or large, just clean and safe for Peter.”

“Your best bet would be to check with a Realtor in Graham, since we don’t have an office here in Brody’s Crossing. I can recommend someone there, if you’d like.”

“Yes, that might be best.” Christie didn’t think Toni sounded very confident that a listing would be available.

“Okay, as far as a schedule, I have had time to talk to my subs,” Toni said, taking out a legal pad from her desk drawer.

Over the next few minutes, they discussed an aggressive timetable, based in part on Christie’s ability to pay extra for dedicated work at the site. Toni explained that most contractors worked on several jobs at once, splitting their time based on deadlines, weather and material availability. The crews might work anywhere from Decatur to Graham to Olney, tying them up from one day to one week. Also, Brody’s Crossing had a slight boom in growth with the new farmers’ market, butcher shop and several smaller offices. Then there were always home renovations and repairs.

Just as they finished, Peter started waking up. Christie unlatched him from his car seat. “He’s probably wet. Is there a place to change him here?”