Patricia Thayer - A Child for Cade

“I didn’t get a bad deal, either,” Joy said as she sat down next to her husband, her bright blue eyes full of love.

Cade had thought that way once, too. His attention turned back to Abby and how beautiful she’d looked last night. She could still make his pulse race. But he knew better than to pursue it. She’d made a fool out of him once, and he wasn’t going to play that game again. No, he’d stay away from Abby Garson.

Travis returned to the table, his expression even more troubled than before. “I need to get back to Houston. There’s a problem…with one of our accounts.”

“Can’t your partner handle it?” Hank asked.

“No.” Travis shook his head. “It’s something I’ve got to do myself.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to get to the airport as soon as possible.”

“I’ll give you a ride, Trav,” Cade volunteered. “At least we can visit awhile.”

Travis nodded. “Thanks, Cade.” He turned to Hank. “I’m sorry I have to cut this short. I promise to be back soon. Next time maybe I can stay longer.”

Hank’s eyes misted as he stood. “I’m gonna hold you to it, son.” He hugged Travis.

Travis said his goodbyes to the rest of the family, then went upstairs to retrieve his bag. Cade headed outside and waited by the ranch truck. A few minutes later Travis came rushing out the door, along with Ella carrying a straw cowboy hat. “Cade, on your way back would you stop by the Moreau ranch and drop off this hat? Brandon left it here last night.”

No way was he going near that place. Tom Moreau would probably shoot him on sight. “The kid probably has a lot of hats. He’ll never miss it.”

“He’ll miss this one, though. His granddad gave it to him on his birthday—right before he died. Brandon never goes anywhere without it.”

“Tom Moreau died?”

Ella nodded. “About six months ago. Cancer. It’s been rough on Abby and that boy.” She shoved the hat at him. “Now there’s nothing there to scare you off. Or is there?”

Before Cade could answer, Ella hurried back into the house. “She’s got something up her sleeve, and I don’t like it,” he muttered as he and Travis climbed into the cab.

Cade started the engine and took off down the road toward the highway. He glanced across the cab. “I hope there aren’t any problems,” he said, trying to get his brother talking.

His brother jerked his head around. “What?”

“I said, I hope there aren’t any problems with your company.”

Travis shrugged. “There’re always problems.”

Cade didn’t like the sound of that. “Want to talk about it?”

Travis glared at him as he rested one booted foot across the other knee. “I’m not a kid anymore, Cade,” he grumbled.

“Whoa there.” Cade held up a hand. “I was only offering some help. If you don’t want to talk, fine. I’ll butt out. I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

“I don’t think you would say that if you knew… Never mind.” Travis head jerked to the side window.

Cade didn’t want to “never mind.” He had a strong feeling his brother was in trouble. “So you’re going to be too stubborn to ask for help?”

Travis released a long sigh. “Hell, I can ask for all the help in the world, but it isn’t going to bail me out of this.”

Cade knew he couldn’t force Travis to talk about it, and the rest of the trip passed in silence. When they arrived at the airport, Travis was practically out of the truck before it stopped. But Cade had to give it one more try. Opening the door, he stood and rested his arm on the door frame. “Hey, Trav, call me if you need anything.”

Duffel bag in hand, Travis turned back to him and shook his head. “No, I don’t want the family involved in this.”

He looked so sad, so alone, Cade nearly went after him. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.” He prayed his words were true. “Please, Trav, let me help.”

They looked at each other for a long time. “It’s bad. Just like it was with dad,” Travis said, then disappeared through the terminal entrance.

Cade knew the way to the Moreau ranch blindfolded. Not that he was ever allowed on the property, but he’d ridden by on horseback so many times he’d lost count. He’d always been hoping to catch a glimpse of Abby.

Cade drove the truck under the wrought-iron arch-way that read “Moreau Cattle Ranch.” He knew it had been one of the biggest operations in the area. Tom Moreau had other businesses besides cattle. He owned sheep and several pecan orchards, plus a few other properties.

No wonder the man hadn’t wanted his daughter to hook up with the likes of him—a Randell. If only he’d given Cade a few years to prove himself. But Abby hadn’t been willing to wait around for that, either.

Cade caught sight of the large brick home with its white wood columns along the porch supporting a second-story balcony. He parked the truck and grabbed the cowboy hat off the seat and climbed out. Maybe if he just left it by the door someone would find it.

Quit acting like a coward, he told himself. You don’t have to sneak around anymore.

As he approached the house, he noticed the peeling paint on the porch and shutters. He turned toward the other buildings. They could all use a fresh coat of paint. To his surprise, no one had come out to ask what he was doing on Moreau property.

He shook his head. No, this wasn’t his business, he told himself as he marched up to the porch and rang the bell. He was just going to drop off the hat and leave. But his plans changed when the door opened and a heavyset woman clutched his arm and tugged him inside.

“It’s about time you got here,” she scolded. “Ms. Abby has been waiting for you. Now go into the study and wait.” She motioned him into a room that Cade realized must have been Tom Moreau’s study.

Cade grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He glanced at the portrait of the powerful rancher that hung above the used-brick fireplace. “Never could get over yourself, could you, Tom?”

It had taken Cade a long time, but men like Tom Moreau no longer intimidated him. He’d learned the hard way that if you had money, you had power, and you could play with the big boys.

Cade wandered over to the desk, the only place in the room that wasn’t in order. Curiosity got the better of him, and he glanced at some of the papers. Overdue bills seemed to make up one stack. On a notepad was the name Ted Javor, Accountant.

“What are you doing here?”

Cade refused to look guilty when he turned around.

At the sight of Abby, he found he had trouble concentrating for other reasons. Her hair was pulled behind her ears, her face devoid of makeup, and he could see the light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. A pair of worn jeans covered her long slender legs and cupped her shapely hips. Her fitted white blouse showed off more than a hint of her full breasts. Damn, Abby Moreau, you definitely filled out.

“I was invited in,” he said. “In fact, your housekeeper practically pushed me in here.”

Abby looked unconvinced. “Carmen let you in? That’s hard to believe.”

“You can believe what you want. I’m only here because your son left this at the party.” He held out the cowboy hat.

“Oh,” she said, and some of the fire died from her eyes. She took it from him. “Well, thank you for bringing it by.” She folded her arms across her chest as if refusing to offer him any neighbourly niceties.

“Look, Cade, I’m too busy to stop and try to make small talk. You don’t want to do that with me any more than I do with you. You made that clear last night.” To his surprise she turned to leave.

“That wasn’t always true,” he said. “It was your decision…years ago.”