Page 11 of Grant


  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She was being more abrupt than usual. Christina had plenty of sass, but it was usually good-natured sass. She didn’t go out of her way to hurt people.

  Today, she sat shoveling the milkshake into her mouth as if Grant didn’t exist. The way she licked whipped cream off the spoon—that had his heart pounding and his cock tightening.

  “You still thinking about leaving town?” Grant asked her.

  He wanted to reach over, rip the spoon from her hand, and feed her the whipped cream himself. Then he’d lean and lick the droplets from her lips.

  “Haven’t decided,” Christina said, shrugging. “I want to be careful what I choose. I was going to Houston, but I might go up to Dallas instead, see what’s going on there.”

  Dallas. Not all the way across the country, but even so, some hours away.

  “Who do you know in Dallas?” Grant demanded. She couldn’t just go to another city where she didn’t know anyone and wander around by herself. Dangerous. He wouldn’t let her.

  “I have a few friends there. Bailey knows some people too. I’ll be fine.”

  She kept saying fine. As though, if she said it enough, it would be true.

  “How’s your shoot?” Christina asked, scooping up more milkshake.

  Grant set his mouth. “Fine.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  They sat in silence a few minutes, but it wasn’t companionable. Christina continued to eat, her spoon clinking on the inside of the tall glass.

  “Why don’t you come out and watch us?” Grant suggested, trying to soften his voice. “Maybe you can dress up and be one of the passengers on the train. I’ll come by and rob you.”

  Christina would probably try to beat him off rather than tamely give up her handbag, but it might be fun.

  “Can’t. I just told you, I’m heading up to Dallas.”

  His throat tightened. “You mean right now? For how long?”

  “Don’t know. I’m going tomorrow to look around.” Christina thunked down her spoon, the glass empty. “I don’t have my whole life planned out to the minute, all right?”

  Damn, she was touchy today. “Hey, I’m just asking, sweetheart. You shouldn’t drive to Dallas alone. Take someone with you.”

  “I’ll be—”

  “Don’t you dare say fine.” Grant leaned toward her, trying to keep the few people left in the diner from hearing. “You’re not fine. You’re mad at me and at the town, and you’re not thinking straight. Take Grace with you. Or another friend. I don’t like you out driving around in a big city by yourself. It’s dangerous.”

  Christina glared at him. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Do more than think about it, baby.”

  Christina flinched at the word baby. She opened her mouth, probably to yell at him for saying it, when a presence stopped next to them. Grant looked up at the round face of Mrs. Ward, who was watching them patiently.

  “You ate all of that?” she asked, looking at Christina’s empty shake glass. “I guess not staying out all night working gave you back your appetite. You Farrell girls were always too thin.”

  Christina, who considered herself plump for some reason, gave her a smile. “I’m just hungry today. And it’s delicious. Irresistible.”

  “I’m glad you like it, dear.” Mrs. Ward put a paper check facedown by Christina’s plate.

  Grant snatched it up. “I got this.”

  Christina’s glare came back. “Grant.”

  Mrs. Ward studied them both, then picked up Christina’s empty plate and glass. “I’ll let you two fight over that. Just drop it next to the register when you leave.”

  Grant reached for his wallet. Christina snatched at the check, but it was plucked from Grant’s hand by well-manicured fingers. “Let me take care of it,” Karen said. “My treat.”

  She gave Christina a false smile, an odd glitter in her eyes.

  Christina sat back rigidly. “Very nice of you,” she said. “Not necessary.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Karen breezed on past, signaled to a waitress to meet her at the cash register, and handed her the slip.

  “Damn it,” Christina muttered.

  “Let it go,” Grant said. “She’s trying to make friends. She can’t help it if she’s clueless.”

  “Oh, I think that woman knows exactly what she’s doing.” Christina shoved her chair back. “Nice talking to you, Grant. I’ll think about asking Grace to come with me. You’re right, it’s a long drive and a big city. See ya round.”

  Christina turned and walked away from him, saying a sweet good-bye and thank you to Mrs. Ward.

  “She sure is mad at me,” Grant said when he caught up to Karen at the door. “No one can stay madder at me better than Christina.”

  “I think she has a lot on her mind,” Karen said, again with the cryptic look. “Now, I have things to do. See you back at the ranch.”

  “Right.” Grant gave her a nod and put on his hat. “See ya.”

  All the women in this town were acting strange today.

  ***

  Christina was tossing the last things into her overnight bag when someone rapped sharply on the front door. She really didn’t want company, but Christina left her bedroom and went to answer it.

  Seeing Grant had only made her acutely aware of the many things she needed to tell him. She didn’t want to have that talk, though, until she was one-hundred percent sure she was pregnant, and two-hundred percent sure she knew who the father was.

  After that, she’d leave it up to Ray or Grant to decide what they wanted to do. Christina was having the baby, and she wanted the baby to have a father, but she wouldn’t trap either man into a marriage or relationship they didn’t want. It would be their choice.

  The knocking continued. Christina quickened her pace and yanked open the front door.

  She caught Karen in the act of raising her hand to knock again.

  “Hello, Christina,” Karen said in her smooth voice. “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

  Christina didn’t open the door any wider. She’d been brought up to be hospitable even to the last person she wanted to see on her doorstep, but her patience had run out.

  “What about?” she asked abruptly.

  “You’re going to want to let me in.” Karen’s smile was fixed. “So the neighbors won’t overhear.”

  These older houses had been built very close together, with only a narrow strip of yard between each. Mrs. Kaye next door liked to work on the rose bushes that lined her property and keep an eye on her neighbors at the same time. Sure enough, she was there today, clipping, dead-heading, pretending not to notice Karen on the porch ten feet away from her.

  “All right,” Christina said. “Come on in.”

  Mrs. Kaye straightened up, pruning shears in hand, and watched interestedly as Karen waltzed into Christina’s house and shut the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What do we need to talk about?” Christina asked impatiently.

  Karen wandered the room, taking in the photos on the shelves—Bailey’s and Christina’s both—which Christina hadn’t been able to bring herself to pack yet. A house without photos was empty, forlorn, no longer hers.

  “Your visit to Dallas.” Karen skimmed off her white linen suit coat and laid it over the back of a chair. She wore a black sleeveless dress underneath. “I have to go up there too. You should let me drive you.”

  Christina was very sure she didn’t want to spend three hours in a car with Karen. “No, it’s all right. I’m going to ask Grace to go with me.”

  “Honey, you know you’re not taking Grace. I can keep my mouth shut, trust me. I agree with Grant that you shouldn’t go alone.”

  Christina stared, her body numb. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your appointment with the ob-gyn. That’s why you’re going up to Dallas, isn’t it?”

  Christina’s mouth went dry, but Karen only looked at her, waiting for an answer. “How the h
ell do you know that?” Christina asked, voice a croak.

  “Because I saw you when you came back from Austin. I happened to be passing when you were delivering bags of whatever to your friend Rosie. Before you went up to her house, you took things out of the bags in your trunk and put them into your purse. I glimpsed the pregnancy test—I recognized the box. Have used it a time or two myself. Then you suddenly want to go to Dallas. I put it together that you wanted to consult a doctor there.”

  Christina sat down hard on the sofa. “Damn it, do I have to leave the state for some privacy? Who have you told?”

  “No one, honey. Is the baby Grant’s?”

  Christina sucked on her lower lip. Oh, what the hell? What the woman didn’t know, she’d guess. “Might be.”

  “Or could be that other hottie you were going out with—Ray Malory?” Karen gave Christina an envious look. “You are one lucky girl. Two ripe, gorgeous cowboys fighting over you. But I’m not surprised—you pull off the tank top and shorts thing well. Most women our age can’t anymore.”

  “I won’t be wearing them for much longer.” The emotions tied up in that statement made Christina giddy. She’d be buying maternity clothes, baby things, planning for her new family. She wanted to burst into tears. Damn hormones.

  “So, you’re going to have the baby? Good for you. You have a lot of guts. But you still need me to drive you, or the whole town will know before you’re ready for them to.”

  Christina considered her options—including getting on a bus and heading anywhere but here—then let out a heavy sigh.

  “The appointment is at two—it’s in Richardson.” She and Bailey had found the clinic that could tell her not only pregnancy results right away but promised swift pre-natal results as well. And, going to Richardson instead of the clinic where everyone in town went, meant she could break the news when she was ready. “I’m leaving early tomorrow morning and staying overnight afterward.”

  “Perfect,” Karen said warmly. “Gives me a chance to go to Neiman’s. I need some new shoes.”

  ***

  The commercial’s shoot was postponed the next day because, as Tyler said, horses happened.

  Turned out that one of the geldings brought in from another ranch for training had thrush. The owner blamed the Campbells, claiming dirty conditions in their barn had led to the infection. Carter nearly went ballistic on him—their stables were always clean and dry, mucked out every day, he snapped.

  Grant and Tyler had to step in and placate the owner. If Circle C’s stables were the cause, Grant explained, all the other horses there would have thrush too. The Campbells would be happy to have the gelding’s hooves treated for no charge.

  The owner left, conceding, and Carter said the guy had just been angling for a free vet visit. But Grant knew, and Carter agreed, that if they sent the gelding home, the owner might not bother with treatment, and the horse would suffer. Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to have animals.

  Then Buster, the best horse for stunt work, woke up lame, for no reason anyone could find. He limped around, not wanting to put pressure on his right foreleg. Vet was called, found nothing. Farrier called, found nothing. Buster would have to stay quiet for a couple of days, and be watched.

  So much for working on the shoot—Buster was the best to ride for jumping onto trains. Grant accused him of faking it, and Buster, always bad-tempered, tried to bite him.

  “If he’s not better in a couple days, we’ll have to use Bobby,” Grant told Tyler, who reluctantly agreed.

  Grant also heard through the Riverbend grapevine that Christina had driven out of town to Dallas with Karen.

  Seriously crazy.

  Grant went to Christina’s house late in the evening to see if Christina had got back all right, but Mrs. Kaye next door told him she and Karen were staying in Dallas overnight. Didn’t Grant know that?

  No, Grant hadn’t known. He thanked Mrs. Kaye politely and left.

  He didn’t like this. Why Christina had taken Karen, of all people with her, was weird. Something was going on, and it badly worried him that he didn’t know what. Pissed him off, too.

  He suspected Christina would only shut him out if he tried to call her, but he kept his cell phone close by, for once, in case she needed to get in touch for whatever reason. If Karen didn’t bring Christina back tomorrow, Grant would drive north to find her, shoot or no shoot.

  He’d find her, bring her home, and tell her to stay in Riverbend. With him. Where they both belonged.

  ***

  Driving the back highways to Dallas with Karen was a surreal experience. Also very comfortable. The BMW was cushy. Soft leather seats, climate controls, soft music. It was like floating.

  Karen wanted to talk, whether Christina liked it or not.

  “I fell in love with my total bastard third husband pretty hard. It was his glamour, his money—he swept me off my feet. Five years into the marriage, and I find out he had two other houses, each containing a mistress, one of whom had two of his kids. He didn’t try to marry them, at least, but he called each his wife. Nice work if you can get it. Must have cost him a hell of a lot of money, because they both lived as high on the hog as I did, but I guess he liked the power, and fooling everyone.”

  “You still work with him, though, don’t you?” Christina asked, mildly curious.

  “I own a company with him, yes, and two other people. I’ve invested too much money and time to walk away from that. He can buy me out if he gets tired of me. I did pretty good out of the divorce though. Stupid man never asked for a prenup, because he thought he could string me along for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” Christina said. “That must have been hard, finding out. My sister had a similar thing happen. Are all men total assholes?”

  Karen glanced at her and smiled. “No, and you know it. Those Campbell boys are sweethearts. I’m glad in a way that Preston happened to me, because it put my life into perspective. I’m smart, and I’m driven. Now I focus on my career and what makes me happy. Men, I save for fun.”

  “Sounds good,” Christina said wistfully. “Maybe I’ll try to live like that.”

  Karen laughed in genuine mirth. “Too late for you, honey. You are madly in love with Grant, and you know it.”

  Christina looked out the window at the flat plain rolling past, the stretches of ranch land, the farms in the distance. “I guess that’s obvious. But I doubt it will work out, even if this is his baby. We tried being together, and we just couldn’t without arguing all the time. We tried so hard for me to get pregnant, and nothing. It tore us apart. And now? If Grant isn’t the father, it’s going to kill him.”

  “And if he is the father?”

  “It will be …” Christina rested her head on the back of the seat. “So wonderful. I’ve wanted a baby for such a long time. It’s crazy complicated, but I’m so happy I don’t know what to do.” She wiped tears from her eyes—things were already hard enough without her crying all the time. “But Grant and I—I don’t know if we can make it, even with a baby. We’re not kids anymore. The hurting is adult now.”

  Karen’s amusement returned. “Honey, you are so totally wrong, it’s unbelievable. You and Grant Campbell are still together. I’ve had my eye on the pair of you ever since I saw you watching him in the diner that day. If looks could kill, I’d have been minced sirloin. You two might not live in the same house anymore, but you’re a couple, sweetie, trust me. You would be even if you lived in different countries. You’re going to have to deal with it.”

  Christina’s mouth popped open during this speech, the air conditioning chilling her. Then she groaned.

  “You’re right.” Christina scrubbed her face with one hand. “I don’t want you to be right, but you are. What am I going to do?”

  “There’s only one thing to do, sweetie. Hold on to him. There are some real duds in the world—men who think women are put on earth for their personal pleasure, and who cares what we think? Or want? Or need? Gr
ant’s not like that.”

  “No,” Christina said thickly. “He’s not.”

  “And I’ll tell you something else. Men are fragile. They act all macho, and they can be physically strong sometimes, but inside, they’re little boys on the playground, trying to figure out where they belong. Women scare most of them to death, so they treat us like shit to compensate. But there’s a few who aren’t threatened, and who truly love women, everything about them. Those are the ones you want to hang on to.”

  Christina thought about Grant, his sexy drawl, the way his eyes went dark when he came inside her. The politeness he stuck to, no matter what, his concern for Christina and all she did.

  Christina groaned again, but more softly this time. “Why is life so complicated?”

  “It’s not complicated. What you do is drive over to that trailer of his, move yourself in, and stay put. If you love him so much, walk in there and start loving him.” Karen drove up the ramp to the 35 and put on a burst of speed. “It’s easy, honey. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

  Of all the advice Christina had been given about Grant, and she’d been given a lot, this was the most direct: Grab the problem by the balls and make everything work out.

  Christina straightened up. “All right, but if I do move back in with Grant, I don’t want to see you hanging all over him anymore. I don’t share.” She gave Karen a stern look. “You get your cowboy fix somewhere else.”

  Karen laughed. “Honey, I don’t poach. I’ve been poached on, and I’m not going there. But, sweetie, can you blame me? Grant is one fine man. Fortunately he has brothers. Carter has a little too much residual anger in him for me, but Tyler—I can go for some of that. Or Ross, as long as he wears his uniform. Oh, maybe both together.”

  Christina burst out laughing. The woman was incorrigible. But also refreshingly honest.

  She went quiet again. “What do I do if the baby’s Ray’s?”

  “You cross that bridge when you come to it. Which will be soon. There’s the city.”

  Karen gestured at the looming skyline of Dallas, bursting up out of the flat lands like a forest of steel and glass.