An Honorable Texan

She glanced at the clock. “Aren’t you getting tired?” she asked Peter, who had grown bored with standing and had crawled over to his favorite toy, a plastic piano that played the most irritating electronic tunes when he hit the big, primary-color keys. To answer her question, he grinned and began pounding.

Christie hoped they didn’t have any close neighbors tonight who objected to her baby’s piano music.

She was going to call Cal at the ranch later and arrange a meeting. There was no sense in putting off the news any longer. Perhaps they could have lunch in a public place, like that steakhouse she’d gone to with Toni. Or the cute little café in town, although that would be much more public and people might be able to hear their conversation.

That was her big fear—that Cal would find out about Peter from someone else. That’s why she’d been very careful to mention she was a widow, and not to act too interested in Cal when she’d talked to others. She’d developed a friendly relationship with Troy’s fiancée, Raven, although she’d never told the other woman about Peter. They’d only talked on the phone. She’d tried to be very careful and respectful of Cal’s privacy, just as she would have wanted had she been in the same situation.

Not that she’d ever expected to be a single parent. Or to have her own biological child.

Peter quit banging on the piano and rubbed his eyes.

“Time for your bottle? Ba-ba?” she asked, pushing up from the chair and scooping him off the floor. With Peter on her hip, she went to the little kitchen area of the motel room. As soon as he saw the bottle of powdered formula, he waved his arms and started saying, “Ba-ba-ba.” That was his word for bottle. He also said, “Ma-ma-ma,” but Christie wasn’t sure if that was a true mama word or just sounds.

Maybe someday soon he’d learn to say “da-da.”

She fed Peter, changed his diaper, then sang to him a little until his eyes closed. Within minutes he was sound asleep in his portable crib.

And Christie had no more excuses to keep her from calling Cal.

AFTER A QUESTIONABLE DINNER of some family favorites and some new-age greenery, all Cal wanted to do was retreat to his bedroom, lie on his familiar mattress and watch a little sports. Mavericks, Rangers, Stars—whatever was in season was fine with him. He probably wouldn’t have gone to Dewey’s even without the planned dinner and company. He’d spent thirty-five years nearly alone, and the past eighteen months surrounded by troops twenty-four hours a day. He just needed some time to himself.

Tonight, several of his neighbors—along with the guy leasing the pasture for his free-range chickens, a nuisance if Cal ever heard one, and Brian Wilkerson, the man who leased the pasture and the new barn for organic dairy cows—had come to share coffee and dessert. Brian came to the ranch twice daily to feed and milk the cows. The only animals the Rocking C owned were the few Herefords Troy had saved from the original herd, a handful of laying hens, horses and a pasture of overgrown, scraggly bison. The ranch hardly looked the same as when they’d raised nothing but regular beef cattle.

Besides Troy’s fiancée, Cal had met another new town resident, his lawyer’s bride, Scarlett. She was cute in a quirky kind of way, but definitely not his style. She wouldn’t make a good ranch wife. James seemed crazy about her, though.

He nudged off his boots, kicked them in the direction of the closet and settled back on the bed. His bedspread was one of those thin cotton ones with ridged lines, brown just like the trim on the house used to be. He’d missed that damned bedspread. At least Troy and Raven hadn’t thrown it out, even though it was a little threadbare in spots.

He’d barely gotten into the bottom of the first inning of the Rangers game when Raven knocked on the door. “You have a call,” she said through the closed door.

He swung his legs off the bed and opened the door. “I hope this isn’t a solicitation. I don’t want a credit card or a cell phone.”

“No, it’s not one of those. I think you might want to take this call.”

“Yeah?” He took the phone from Troy’s fiancée, who looked as though she knew something he didn’t. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she said, and shut the door.

He settled back on his bed. “Hello,” he said, wondering who would call him his first night back. Probably one of his friends from the feed store who hadn’t come for coffee.

He thought perhaps the caller had hung up, but then a woman’s voice said, “Cal?”

“Uh, Christie?”

“Yes! I’m so glad you remembered.”

“How could I forget?” How, indeed. She’d been every man’s dream of a great weekend. Tall, blond, built, fun, smart and sexy. Very sexy. They’d met at the Barnes & Noble in Fort Worth’s Sundance Square on the Friday afternoon before his unit was scheduled to deploy. They’d both carried the same recently released biography and had ordered coffee at the attached café. He’d told her the truth—that he was a rancher who was in the reserves, called up for active duty and set to leave the next week. As far as he knew, she’d told him the truth—she was a widow who lived in Fort Worth and worked in marketing.

They’d spent one fantastic weekend together. He’d never expected to hear from her again, not that he minded she’d called him tonight.

Unless she was some kind of weird stalker…

“What’s up, Christie?”

“I’d like to see you, Cal. Maybe tomorrow for lunch?”

“In Fort Worth? I just got home and—”

“No, I’m nearby, in Graham. I could meet you at Dewey’s, or, if you’d rather, we could meet in Graham. There are several restaurants here.”

“Yeah, I know, but…I don’t want to be rude, but what are you doing here?” She seemed to know her way around already.

“I…I just need to see you. I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t. I need to see you.”

“I’m not real fond of surprises, Christie.”

“Yes, I can imagine you’re not, but this is one of those times when you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Or not.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he kind of regretted cutting her off at the knees. In a low voice, she said, “Please, Cal.”

He paused for a moment, then asked, “You’re not dying or anything, are you?”

“No! I’m fine.”

“No illnesses that you want to tell me about?” He knew he didn’t have anything, since he’d had about a dozen physicals since their weekend together.

“Absolutely not.”

Well, hell. His curiosity was piqued. “All right,” he said. “Noon at Dewey’s.”

“We…I’ll be there.”

“We what?”

“Nothing. We just need to talk. I’ll see you at noon. Good night, Cal.”

“Good night.”

He ended the call and sat there on the edge of his bed, wondering what the hell was up. What couldn’t she tell him over the phone? Or had that been just a ploy to get him to meet her? She didn’t have to resort to games. He would have been glad to see her for a replay of their time together. She’d had some tough luck in her life, though. Her husband had been killed in an accident, and she couldn’t have kids. That would be hard for any woman to handle, but she’d shown an inner strength when she’d told him a little about her past.

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.