Having The Cowboy's Baby

She’d struggled with that herself until Braden’s mom encouraged her to sing in the Sunday choir one summer. And it had done wonders for her.

Yes, all Ian needed was to see that there was a future for him as a singer and musician—one that was more exciting and profitable than working someone else’s cattle for the rest of his life.

Of course, when Ian had grabbed her hand this evening, when he’d admonished her for not trusting him to be a man of his word, he’d certainly given her reason to doubt her initial assessment of him.

Sure, she knew he was a good man, an honest one. And there was no question he was an amazing and considerate lover. She wouldn’t have gotten involved with him in the first place if that hadn’t been the case. It’s just that they’d hit this fork in their road, and he wanted to go a different direction than she did.

She wouldn’t claim it hadn’t hurt her to end things between them, but it had been for the best. Really.

Now, as they sat in silence in a darkened corner booth, Ian’s expression somber, she knew she had to think of something to say, something to change his mood. But before she could give it any thought, a blonde cocktail waitress stopped at their table.

“Can I get y’all a drink?” she asked.

Carly would have ordered a glass of wine, but her tummy had been bothering her again. Not as badly as it had in San Antonio, but she didn’t dare risk a bout of nausea before performing. “I’ll have a lemon-lime soda.”

“You got it.” The cocktail waitress looked at Ian and smiled. “How about you?”

“I’ll have a shot of tequila—Patrón or the best you have.”

Now that was a surprise. Ian never drank—at least, Carly hadn’t seen him drink. But apparently, she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought.

“I didn’t realize you liked tequila,” she said.

He didn’t respond.

Maybe he was just taking the edge off his nerves. She probably should have been a little more understanding, but there was only one way to kick a little stage fright, and that was to perform right through it.

He remained quiet, his expression intense, until the waitress brought his drink. Carly expected him to grimace at the taste, but instead, he threw it back as if it were the sweet tea he sometimes favored.

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t always been the teetotaler she’d thought he might be. But if a stiff shot eased his nerves, that was fine with her.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. Just before nine o’clock, Earl Tellis, the owner of the Stagecoach Inn, took the stage, following two cowboys who played the fiddle.

“Folks, we have a real treat for y’all tonight. Most of you know Rosabelle Rayburn, who owned the Leaning R Ranch and who was one of the finest women in these parts. Well, her great-granddaughter, Carly, and her foreman, Ian, will be singing for you now. Come on up here, you two.”

“You ready?” Carly asked as she slid out from the booth.

Ian, who’d corralled his empty shot glass with both hands, grumbled like a bear coming out of his cave in the spring. But like he’d said, he’d given her his word that he’d sing with her tonight.

A rush of guilt and regret swept through her, sending her tummy on a roller-coaster ride. Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have pushed him to do something that made him uncomfortable. But it was too late to backpedal now. So she headed to the stage as Ian joined her, his guitar in hand.

Just as they’d done during their practice sessions on his porch at the ranch, they sang and played their hearts out. And when they were done, the honky-tonk crowd whooped and hollered and cheered.

This wasn’t the kind of stage Carly had set her sights on, but it certainly was the audience appreciation she’d hoped for. She glanced at Ian, who simply nodded at the crowd, then returned to his seat at the table.

So much for wishing he’d be inspired by the crowd’s reaction.

Carly had no more than reached the booth where they’d been sitting earlier when Earl Tellis joined her and Ian.

“That was amazing. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed hearing you two play and sing. What talent—and you seem to bring out the best in each other.”

Carly brightened. She’d felt that same chemistry in Ian’s arms as well as on his front porch when they’d sung together. So it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d sensed it. “Why, thank you, Earl.”