Lone Star Baby Scandal (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 7)

“How about you?” she asked. “Were you raised with horses, cattle and such?”

It seeme

d silly to ask the question of a man with his history but while she knew and certainly appreciated his abilities as a cowboy in the arena, she knew little about his childhood. Before moving his office from a downtown high-rise to the ranch, they hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk as they did now.

“Yep.” A slow grin lit his eyes. “I was put in a saddle when I was still wearing diapers. Being a cowboy was all I ever wanted to do until I hit my teens and discovered the opposite sex.”

“You were sure good at it.”

“I had my moments.” He glanced over at her, the lights in his eyes dancing wickedly. “I was a pretty fair cowboy, too.”

Sophie groaned and shook her head. She’d walked right into that one. But the quiet laugh from Clay made it worth it. Since the accident he never laughed, rarely smiled.

“In the years we’ve worked together, I don’t think you’ve told me anything about your life. Now I know you grew up on a farm. Tell me more.”

The question about her past was not expected and Sophie felt tension run rampant.

She hoped he would let the subject drop. Unknowingly he was causing her to remember the horror that had propelled her to run from her home and travel as far away as she could go. Not that those memories ever left, but packed down in the back of her mind they were easier to contend with. No one knew her here. No one had any reason to know her past. And she preferred to keep it that way.

“There’s nothing much to tell. Typical small town. Friday-night football games. Blue-plate special every Wednesday at the only café in town. It rotated between stew and chicken-fried steak. Totally boring.”

“What brought you to Texas?”

And that was the question.

She shrugged. “No special reason. Just wanted to live someplace new.”

Clay opened his mouth to say something else then thought better of it. Sophie let out a silent sigh of relief. She hadn’t been prepared for his question. Next time she would be.

The small sandy trail looped through the trees as they made their way to gradually higher terrain. As they rode along, the trees grew taller and the thick stands of oak were overshadowed by tall, majestic pines. At one point Clay stopped and pointed back in the direction they had just come. The view was phenomenal. Amid the distant pine trees, she spotted the core of the ranch; a large clearing marked the house and separate barn areas. In the distance, horses and cattle grazed on the thick oat grasses.

“The stretch of fence is just over here,” Clay offered, nodding his head in that direction.

Sophie followed him over another small rise and dismounted when Clay did. Sure enough a couple of the cables in the fence had come loose. One was lying on the ground. Without another word, Clay set out to mend the fence. It struck Sophie as odd watching Clayton Everett do menial labor. But then what else would she have expected from him? First and foremost he was a cowboy. He would always be a cowboy at heart. And a cowboy mended fences. She could only hope he didn’t do any further damage to the ligaments and sinews in his body. She bit her lip to keep from saying something to him about it. She had to stop being his mother and let go of the constant worry. Yes, he’d been through hell and back. But he was better.

Looking around her, she spotted the blue of a small body of water in the distance, just below them to the left. “I’m going over to the lake,” Sophie told Clay.

“Good. I’ll meet you there when I finish here. Stay on this side of it. The shoreline on the far side is very unstable.”

“Will do.” Sophie mounted her Tobiano gelding and headed back down the trail. Within minutes she reached the clearing that opened up to the water. It was something out of a postcard: shimmering blue waters circled by red rocks with green sage grass filling in the distance between the rocks and the forest. She dismounted, leaving Hopper to graze while she scrambled to sit on a huge boulder overlooking the lake.

Something in the water caught her eye. She looked harder and realized she was watching a small school of fish. They were feeding on something just below in the shade of the boulder. She wished she had a scrap of bread or corn to toss down and see if they would eat it. Maybe if she and Clay ever came back to this spot, she would remember to bring something.

She realized what she’d just been thinking. She’d imagined them coming back together. This was a rare opportunity to go riding with Clay and share the beauty of the ranch. She might return here someday but she very much doubted if Clay would come with her.

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and a slight breeze blew the hair from her face and teased the leaves on the trees. Suddenly she felt heavy hands on her shoulders. Clay sat down on the large rock, his legs bowing out around her while he moved to hold her close, his hands just beneath her breasts.

“You pick good places to rest,” he said.

“I was watching the fish. Can you see them?” She leaned forward, pointing.

“They’re feeding off water-dwelling insects and minnows. I should have thought to bring a collapsible fishing rod. We could take home some trout for supper.”

“Are they good to eat?”

“Trout?” He sounded surprised. “You’ve never eaten trout?”

“No.”