Cathy McDavid - Cowboy for Keeps

Conner spilled several drops of coffee onto the table before managing to steady his mug. “Pregnant! Wha...when?”

“When did I find out? A couple weeks ago. And to answer both questions you’re too polite to ask, yes, Richard knows about the baby and no, we didn’t discover I was pregnant until after we’d called off the engagement.”

Chapter Two

Twice in one morning Dallas had thrown Conner for a loop. First, when she’d told him about her broken engagement. Then the really big bombshell.

She was pregnant. With Richard’s baby.

A hundred thoughts raced through Conner’s head. First and foremost, there went the possibility of him asking her on a date.

“Do you think it’s wise, riding a horse in your condition?”

“The thought occurred to me, too. What if we took ATVs?”

“Motorized vehicles aren’t allowed in the preserve.” Conner shook his head. “We’ll cancel the trip. Gavin can find another photographer.”

“I’m doing this. With or without you.”

He’d forgotten how stubborn she could be when she set her mind to something.

“I know the book’s important to you,” he stated.

“Honestly, I don’t think you have any idea. Yes, it will educate people on the plight of wild mustangs. And the profits will benefit the sanctuary. But this book has the potential to launch my career. Take it to an entirely new level.” She continued in a gentler tone. “It may also be my last opportunity before the baby’s born.”

“What if you’d fallen off that fence earlier?” Conner asked. “You might have been hurt. Or worse.”

“What if you walk in front of a moving car when we leave the diner? There are no guarantees in life.”

“And no reason to take foolish chances—which riding a horse when you’re pregnant is.”

“You said yourself we can take the easy trails.”

“Not happening.” He could be as stubborn as Dallas. “And don’t think you can find someone else. I’ll put the word out. Most cowboys in these parts are my friends.”

Dallas startled him by reaching across the table for his hand, slipping her fingers easily, naturally, into his. “I appreciate your concern.”

Conner stared at their joined hands, unable to tear his gaze away. The rest of what she said dissolved into a jumble of unintelligible words.

Her fingers, with their pink-tipped nails, were delicate and soft as silk. He could imagine them stroking his cheek or caressing his arm. Imagine lifting her hand to his mouth and brushing his lips across her warm, smooth skin.

He suddenly straightened, reason prevailing.

She was pregnant. With Richard’s baby.

He should not, under any circumstances, be having these kinds of thoughts about her.

“Please, Conner.” Her index finger drew tiny circles on the back of his knuckles. “There isn’t anyone else I want to work with on this assignment.”

So much for reason prevailing.

Instead of telling her to stop, he prayed she would go on indefinitely.

“Does, um, Gavin know about the baby?” he managed to ask in a hoarse voice.

“No.” The tracing of circles abruptly stopped. “I haven’t told him.”

“Because you’re afraid he wouldn’t give you the job?”

“I’m only ten weeks along.” She withdrew her hand and squared her shoulders. “I can do this. My pregnancy will not interfere. And if you’re considering telling Gavin—”

“I’m not telling him.” Conner picked up his coffee mug. It didn’t feel anywhere near as nice as Dallas’s fingers. The haze surrounding his brain, however, had dissipated. “You are.”

“What?”

“Seriously, Dallas. He has a right to know.”

“Are you making that a stipulation of working with me?”

“No. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He’d also do whatever was necessary to protect her.

“Except into the mountains.”

“Not until you tell Gavin and he agrees.”

“You’ll let me ride a horse?”

“Hell, no!” His loud response had several heads swiveling in their direction.

“You just said—”

“We’ll take the wagon. Less jarring than on horseback.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ve never ridden in a wagon before.”

“We can’t go everywhere we could on horseback.”

“What about the canyon where you captured Prince?”

“I’ll check the maps, verify the trails. We might have to take a longer route, but we’ll get there.”

She sat back, a satisfied and most appealing grin on her face. “Thank you, Conner.”

“Promise you’ll let me know if the going gets too rough.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“Taskmaster.” Her brown eyes sparked with delight.

“You have no idea.”

“Right.”

Clearly, she saw straight though him. The last thing Conner would do was push her, physically or emotionally.

“We’ll find Gavin when we get back to Powell Ranch.”

Dallas made a face. “I have to tell him today?”

“It will take me a while to ready the wagon and the team of horses. I’m not starting until he gives me the okay. The ranch is liable, after all.”

“You going to make me get a note from my doctor, too?”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Dallas grumbled, then dived into her remaining salad, polishing it off in a few bites, along with the rest of her meal.

Conner watched, forgetting about his coffee. Did all pregnant women inhale their food? He hadn’t paid much attention to Sage and Caitlin’s eating habits during their pregnancies.

“I’m not keeping you from your work?” Dallas asked when the last bit of sandwich had disappeared.

“You heard Gavin. You are my work for the next few weeks.”

“Good.” Rising from the table, she smiled seductively.

Conner waited a moment before snatching the tab and following her to the front of the restaurant, his legs alarmingly unsteady.

Had she just flirted with him?

No, he must be mistaken. Dallas was always that way, friendly and outgoing, with a thousand-watt personality. It was the reason men found her so attractive, Conner included.

Only his interest in her went well beyond casual.

He reminded himself yet again of her current condition and the man responsible for it. Acting on his attraction would surely result in trouble. And until Conner’s life was back on track, trouble was the last thing he needed.

* * *

THE FRONT DOOR OPENED even before Dallas came to a complete stop in the driveway. Her mother stepped onto the porch and raised a slender arm in greeting, the folds of her vibrantly colored peasant skirt hugging her legs. Gold bangles on her wrists and neck glinted, catching the last rays of a disappearing sun.

The bohemian style of dress was much like the woman herself, free-spirited and uninhibited.

Dallas grabbed the casserole dish off the passenger seat, fussing with the loose foil covering it. Purse in tow and dinner contribution secure, she climbed out of her Prius Hybrid and headed toward the house.

“You’re early.” Marina Camponella stood waiting with open arms.

Dallas leaned in and let her mother hug her, the most she could manage with the load she carried. “Mom, you look great.”

“Thank you, dear.” Marina accepted the compliment as she did most things in life: graciously and humbly. “How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?”

“It comes and goes, generally without me having to run to the nearest bathroom. For which I’m grateful.”

“Be happy. Morning sickness is the sign of a healthy baby.” She gave Dallas’s stomach a quick pat and relieved her of the casserole dish.

They went through the tastefully appointed living room on their way to the kitchen. Many of the exquisite pieces on display had been crafted by her mother. A talented sculptress, she’d abandoned a promising artistic career to marry Dallas’s stepfather, Hank, and raise her two children.