Texas Bride

The woman stepped back. Good. Maybe he could think straight if she wasn’t close enough to caress.

Josh tore his gaze from his rescuer’s angelic face. Looked downward. “You’re pregnant!”

“I believe you’re right.” Her grin invited him to share her joy.

Like hell. “What in damnation were you thinking of, lady?” he demanded, sitting up and wadding the blanket with clenched fists to keep from shaking the little idiot. “You could have harmed your baby! Where the hell’s your husband? What kind of knucklehead lets his wife risk his unborn child by charging headlong into raging floodwaters? He ought to—” “He’s dead.”

“He can’t,” Dani interrupted. “He’s dead.”

Josh stared at her, shocked speechless. He’d spent years grieving beneath his icy outer layer because—thanks to Carrie’s betrayat—he would never hold his baby. This woman carried a child who would never know its father’s protective embrace. “Oh, God, Dani,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

She stood looking at him for a moment, her eyes dark and distant, one hand slowly rubbing her back. “Well, ‘sorry’ never changed facts,” she said at last, “but...thanks.

“They should be dry now, so here. Get dressed.” Scooping up a pile of clothes draped over the foot of the bed, she dumped them on his lap. Which was a tad sensitive—since he was still more than a tad aroused.

Josh grabbed the clothes in self-defense. “Th-thank you.”

As he sorted through the apparel, Dani turned toward the stove. Her braid hung almost to her waist, he noticed. Then had to clamp a lid on heated images of her above him with it loose, streaming over her breasts, brushing his—She’s a grieving widow, Josh reminded himself as he shoved his legs into stiff jeans. Carrying proof of her love.

“Breakfast is ready. I hope you like oatmeal.”

She didn’t act grief-stricken, but she had a right to handle her sorrow her own way. Josh knew from his own bitter experience that talking never changed anything, anyway. And he was starving, but—“Oatmeal? I’d rather have eggs and bacon. Biscuits and honey.”

“Me, too.” At Dani’s low laugh, Josh’s thoughts of food were replaced by another sort of hunger.

Facts were the best weapon against dangerous feelings. He knew that from experience, too. “How old are you?” he blurted, desperate to control his inappropriate response to this woman.

“Twenty-three,” she answered, spreading her fingers over her beach ball stomach and frowning.

She looked younger. Made him feel ancient. “How long ago did your—”

“Six months. Now, about breakfast, Mr. Walker...”

“Call me Josh.” He wanted his name on those lush lips. Instead of painful memories. “But how did you—”

“I looked in your wallet.” She turned so quickly, her braid went flying. “Everything’s still there.”

“I’m sure it is,” he agreed as he climbed out of bed, buttoned his fly—with difficulty—then pulled on his shirt.

Hell, for saving his life, she could have every gold, platinum or purple card she found, all the cash, whatever. He told her so.

“I didn’t save your life, Josh! I—” She gestured impatiently. “I broke your windshield. Please—just eat your breakfast and go.”

Fat chance. Josh Walker always paid his debts and he owed Dani Caldwell. But he reserved arguing for the courtroom. “Okay,” he said mildly.

As he headed toward the table, Dani retreated. As if... “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” Josh asked. “I swear—I’d never hurt a woman!”

Dani’s eyes looked into a distance he couldn’t see. “I’m sure you mean that,” she said, “but...well, intentions make good paving material.” Her voice was too old, too resigned for someone so young. Someone with a baby coming and no father for it.

“You can trust me, Dani.” Josh’s low voice stroked over her skin like rich, dark velvet. He seemed to fill the room with his large, lean frame, with his hard masculinity. “Are you in trouble? Let me help you.”

Dani fought an urge to accept his offer. “I don’t need any help,” she insisted, mostly to remind herself. Didn’t marriage teach me anything? Leaning on someone just means you fall over when they leave.

Josh did something with his jaw that brought granite to mind. “Then I’ll get out of your way,” he said stiffly. “May I use your phone to call a tow truck?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “No telephone.”

“Can you give me a lift to town, then?” Icicles dripped from every word.

“No wheels, either,” Dani confessed, flashing a rueful smile.

“You mean, you’re stranded out here? In your condition?” Josh looked as if he didn’t know whether to sit there stupefied or jump up, furious. “Are you crazy, woman?”

“Just a little unlucky, that’s all.” Dani willed herself to believe it. But that darned backache kept coming back and the baby still hadn’t moved. What if something was seriously wrong?

“Unlucky?” Josh croaked, those beautiful eyes wide with disbelief.

He was still sputtering when heavy knuckles made contact with the door. Dani seized the interruption. “Who’s there?” she called.

“County sheriff,” came the answer in a deep West Texas twang.

Terror-stricken, Dani turned to Josh. “Please,” she whispered. “Please. Tell the sheriff I’m with you. Tell him—anything. Except my name.”

For one long moment, Josh gazed at her, his eyes narrow slivers of glacial ice. Then a corner of his mouth quirked and he shook his head derisively. “I never did learn to ask the right questions at the right time,” he said softly.

Dani closed her eyes to gather her strength. She was going to need it. The visitor knocked again.

“Just a minute!” Josh shouted, then lowered his voice. “I owe you my life, Dani,” he said, “but I’m an attorney. Aiding a felon is grounds for disbarment.”

“I haven’t committed any crime,” she snapped, rubbing her back.

“Then tell me why you’re hiding.”

Dani chewed her lip but she had no choice. She knew whose side the sheriff would take if he discovered her identity. This stranger was her only chance; she had to trust him. Simple but scary. She hadn’t trusted anyone since...Jimmy, who’d proven himself untrustworthy in the end.

Taking a deep breath, Dani said, “My husband was killed by a stray bullet when a fight broke out at the bar that had become his second home. His parents blamed me for his lack of ambition, his choice of friends, and his death. And now they want custody of their grandchild. I’ve refused, of course, but they’re wealthy and have contacts all over the state. Obviously I can’t even hold a job right now....”

Josh suddenly towered over her, his hands on his hips. “Sounds as if they can offer the child more than you can.”

“I’m not giving up my baby,” Dani retorted, balling her hands into fists. “I don’t care what things they can give it, this baby is mine!”

Those turquoise eyes flared into blue fire, then Josh touched her cheek gently with one fingertip. She could feel it all the way to her toes, even through the backache gripping her now like a bulldog on a bone.

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.” Josh jerked his hand away. “I guess I can perjure myself this once.” He crossed the cabin in one stride.

Pulling open the door, Josh leaned a broad shoulder against the door frame and greeted the beefy, leatherskinned man standing on the porch. “Morning, Sheriff.”

“B’lieve it is,” the man drawled, hooking his thumbs in the service belt of his khaki uniform. He looked sleepy and slow, but Dani doubted it. Law enforcement in rural counties only meant dealing with fewer people, not less complex ones.