Her Texan Temptation Page 3

  “I’m sure there’s something in the kitchen or bathroom, but don’t worry about it. I’ll take something later,” she said, unwilling to admit that her ankle was throbbing. And on top of everything else, her head felt as if someone was pounding on it with a large rock. The thought of Deke prowling through her personal belongings made it feel a thousand times worse.

  “You need to take something now.”

  She sat forward, and her expression sobered. “I appreciate your help, but I can take care of myself. I’m used to doing it.” Used to not depending on a man. Her father had taught her that lesson well, because he’d never been around when he was needed.

  Deke’s blue eyes sailed into hers. “Well, it won’t hurt you to let someone else look after you for a change.” She had a right to be angry with him. And he damned well didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He wouldn’t ask her for it because he could never make it up to her. But the least he could do before he left was to make sure she was okay. “I’ll see to the horses, then I’ll find something for you to take for the pain.”

  Without waiting for her to answer, Deke went outside. He made short work of unsaddling the horses, then returned to the house. As he searched the kitchen cabinets for some medicine, he noticed the walls were badly in need of a fresh coat of paint, and the floor looked as if it was a lot older than his twenty-eight years.

  Deke figured that the house was easily over seventy years old, and sadly, it showed. Mary Beth’s father sure hadn’t taken much interest in keeping the place up. Shaking his head, Deke thought the entire ranch needed a dreadful amount of work before it would begin to look decent. The barn was missing shingles, and the machine shed desperately needed a new coat of paint.

  He’d only been home for a short break from the rodeo, but that had been long enough to hear the rumors of Mary Beth’s struggles to keep the ranch afloat since her father’s death. And now her only ranch hand had quit. How was she going to manage alone—especially since she’d injured her ankle?

  Logically Deke knew Mary Beth’s problems shouldn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help thinking about how hard it was going to be for her. She needed help. And, after all, he was her neighbor. Maybe lending her a hand would go a long way toward making amends for treating her so badly.

  Remembering the stray cattle that still needed tending, as he continued to poke through her cabinets, he grabbed the phone receiver off the wall. His sister-in-law, Ashley, who was married to Ryder, answered on the third ring. Deke asked her to let one of his brothers, Ryder or Jake, know about the strays and the fencing so they could get someone out there to handle the problem. Then he explained that Mary Beth had hurt herself, and he was going to hang around awhile to be sure she was okay.

  That done and unable to find any medicine, Deke left the kitchen and headed toward the bathroom. A quick search of the old wooden cabinet in the bathroom turned up a bottle of over-the-counter medicine. He filled a glass sitting on the side of the sink with water, then went in search of a couple of pillows to make her more comfortable.

  As he walked down the narrow hallway, he noticed that all of the bedroom doors were shut. He started to go into what he remembered as Mary Beth’s room, but instead turned toward the room her father had used, figuring she’d moved into the larger room after his death. As soon as he stepped inside, he halted in his tracks.

  The musty, unused smell hit him as he scanned the room. The faded, drawn curtains filtered a smattering of light from the late-afternoon sun. He flipped the switch, bathing the room in soft light from a ceiling fixture covered by a square of milky-white glass.

  The room was clean and tidy. A little too neat. The closet door was shut, the bed undisturbed. Still, something didn’t quite seem right.

  Then he saw them. A pair of man’s shoes in the corner of the room.

  Deke’s heart stopped. Did Mary Beth have a man living with her? No, that didn’t make sense. If a man was living here, where was he? Who was he? Irritation at someone sharing her bed, however illogical, twisted his gut. Then he paused.

  If she was living with someone, he would have heard about it for sure. Old Mrs. Weaver, Crockett’s worst gossip, would have made sure the entire town knew about it.

  Deke sniffed the stale air. Curious, he moved farther into the room. A man’s gold wristwatch rested on a wooden tray on the dresser, along with a small amount of change and a large pocket knife. He frowned as he studied the articles.

  Opening the closet door, Deke found it half-full of a man’s clothes. The floor of the closet was filled with boxes and shoes. The shelf above held more boxes. What the hell was going on? He checked the dresser drawers, and most of them held piles of neatly folded shirts and pants, tainted with the fragrance of time. In the adjoining bathroom, he discovered more unsettling clues. Though clean, it looked undisturbed. An array of shaving lotion and cologne covered almost one whole side of the small countertop. A toothbrush hung in a rusting metal fixture.

  Then he realized that the room hadn’t been touched since Mary Beth’s father had died.

  Deke was dumbfounded.

  She’s still grieving for Hank, he thought.

  Feeling empathy, he could understand, because he was still dealing with his own demons concerning his relationship with his father. The fight they’d had haunted him. He would take every word back if it was in his power. But that time was long lost.

  Shaking his head, Deke didn’t think it was a good sign that Mary Beth was hanging on to Hank’s belongings. And it probably wasn’t his place to mention it, but then again, if he didn’t, who would? Mary Beth was all alone out here.

  Still mulling over what he should do, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He stepped across the hall and opened the door to Mary Beth’s bedroom. As he walked inside, her unique womanly scent halted his movements. This room was also tidy, though the bed was unmade, as if she’d just climbed from it.

  Deke stared at the rumpled bedding, and the memory of making love to Mary Beth right there on that bed caused his chest to ache. Why couldn’t he forget what it felt like to make love to her? What was it about her that was so different from other women he’d known?

  It had been good between him and Mary Beth. Too damn good. Good enough to scare the pants off him. He snatched two pillows from the bed. Tucking them under his arm, he went back to the living room. Mary Beth was scrunched down on the sofa, her head resting against the arm. She looked so damn vulnerable. So fragile.

  She would probably laugh at that, he thought with sardonic amusement. He had a feeling that Mary Beth wouldn’t appreciate him thinking of her as fragile in any way. Deke walked over and gently touched her shoulder.

  “Oh,” she murmured as she slowly opened her eyes.

  When she appeared to gain her bearings, he handed her the glass of water. “Here, take these,” he instructed softly, opening the medicine bottle.

  She held out her hand, and he dropped two white pills in her palm. “Thank you.” She popped the pills in her mouth, then drank some water. “There. Are you satisfied?”

  Deke frowned as he placed one of the pillows behind her so she could rest easier. “I’m only trying to help.” Despite her surly tone, he tried to make her more comfortable by sliding the other pillow under her foot.

  Mary Beth looked repentant. Okay, so he had been helpful, and she should have expressed a little gratitude instead of being so disagreeable. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Taking the glass from her, he set it beside yet another stack of old magazines on the table beside the sofa. He stared absently at them a moment, then turned his head to look at her. “I called the Bar M. Someone’s going to round up your cattle and repair the hole in the fence. So you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  Mary Beth cocked her head as she looked into his eyes. “I appreciate the help, Deke. Really. But your family’s already done too much for me these past two years.” She was relieved that the cattle were being seen to, but that the McCalls were
handling the problem made her feel even more indebted to them. How could she ever repay their kindness?

  Taking note of the worn fabric on the arms, Deke made himself comfortable in a chair across from her. “It’s not a big deal, Mary Beth.”

  Her eyes fell away from his. “Yes, it is.”

  The problems at Paradise were becoming overwhelming, and the weight of her need to make the ranch successful was dragging her down. Though she was barely hanging on, she refused to depend on others to help her.

  She had to prove her father wrong.

  He’d never given her a chance to show him that she could help. It was a man’s job, he’d told her more than once, with a harsh tone that revealed his disappointment in having a daughter and not a son.

  “Not if you don’t make it one.”

  Deke’s soft reply interrupted her thoughts. Her gaze went to his again, and he smiled. Her stomach tingled, like tiny butterflies were having a party inside it. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”

  “Sure could’ve fooled me.” His eyes stayed on hers.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’m just not used to having someone around helping.”

  “Like your father?”

  Mary Beth wanted to say no. She really did. But that wouldn’t have been an honest answer. Her father had never been around when she and her mother had needed him. He’d only cared about money. Money he never seemed to have. Feeling her spirits fall, she tried to hold the bitter feelings at bay. “Yeah.”

  “I can understand how hard it’s been.”

  She swallowed hard. Deke didn’t know. No one had any idea that she held bitter feelings toward her father. Shamefully, she hadn’t even wanted to come back when she’d heard he was ill. But if she hadn’t, people would’ve talked. The lump that had lodged in her throat refused to move when she swallowed.

  An awkward moment of silence filled the room. She looked at Deke, and his mouth quirked up at one corner. Mary Beth found the sight much too appealing. He started to speak, stopped himself as if considering his words, then sighed.

  “What?”

  He waited a moment, then asked, “Why haven’t you cleaned out your father’s things?”

  She stilled. “What…what do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t snooping,” he said quickly. “I was looking for some pillows, and I went into your father’s bedroom, thinking that you’d made it your room since his death.”

  “You went into his room?”

  He nodded. “I guess you’ve had a rough time.”

  “Losing my father, you mean?” She wasn’t sure what to say. He was expecting her to tell him all about how she’d cried, how hard it had been to lose someone she’d loved. So hard that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go through his belongings.

  She had felt grief. Not the unbearable kind she’d felt when her mother had died. But it had been grief, tempered with resentment and anger. Resentment because Hank Adams had never let her close to him, anger because he hadn’t loved her.

  “I just haven’t had the time to finish it,” she said quietly. “Taking care of the ranch has been a priority. His room and clothing can wait.”

  “It’s been two years,” Deke pointed out, his expression thoughtful. “You haven’t had time in two years to go through his things?” He wasn’t sure he believed her and sensed she was putting it off. He wondered why.

  She looked away from his probing eyes. “I just said so, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t get testy,” Deke retorted, but his words came with another smile.

  “I’m not.”

  “Are, too,” he returned.

  Mary Beth squeezed her eyes closed, fighting the sting of tears. She couldn’t let Deke know how hard it had been for her to keep the ranch going. Her stupid idea of taking over and trying to make it a success was literally blowing up in her face. Very soon it was going to come crashing down around her.

  More in control, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Look, I really appreciate what you’ve done, but I’m tired and I’d like to rest.” She glanced at her watch and was astonished at how much time had passed since Deke had arrived. “Besides, it’s getting late, and I’m sure you have other things to do.”

  Instead of getting up, he settled himself more into the soft chair, sitting back comfortably and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I thought I’d hang around a while. You know, to make sure you’re okay.” Maybe he’d stay and make her something to eat for dinner.

  Mary Beth yawned and leaned back against the pillow. She fought closing her eyes. “That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine now.”

  “Stop arguing and try to rest,” Deke suggested.

  “You don’t need to stay,” she murmured, and her eyelids drifted shut. She wanted him to leave. Maybe when he did, her pulse would go back to a normal beat. Having Deke McCall around was dangerous to her heart. He’d been nice to take care of her, but a part of her was still very attracted to him, and she didn’t need the temptation of his hard, lean body or his charming smile.

  Besides, he was only looking out for her because it was the neighborly thing to do.

  As much as she might wish, Deke McCall wasn’t her miracle.

  Three

  Mary Beth’s cupboards left a lot to be desired.

  Deke studied the choices before him. Canned soup, rice, a jar of spaghetti sauce, noodles and an array of canned vegetables. He’d already searched her freezer for some kind of meat to prepare, but considering he wasn’t a great cook by any stretch of the imagination, he figured he’d better not get too creative.

  He settled for the jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of macaroni in the shape of small shells. Adding the pasta to a pot of boiling water, he then poured the spaghetti sauce in a bowl and placed it inside a large microwave oven. It was so old that Deke figured the radiation it emitted could quite possibly make him sterile.

  He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to stay around to take care of Mary Beth, especially since she’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want his company.

  Guilt.

  Yeah, there was that, he told himself. He couldn’t change what had happened between them in the past. All he could do was make sure he didn’t hurt her again.

  Lust.

  Now his brain was getting to the heart of the matter, and his body reacted in kind, sending a surge of blood below his belt. Hell, he was still attracted to her. Just thinking about her lying on the couch made him dream things he had no business dreaming about.

  Okay, get your mind back on cooking. Serve her dinner, make sure she’s okay, then get the hell out before you do something you’ll regret.

  Like kiss her.

  Oh, yeah, he was going to be in deep trouble if he couldn’t keep his mind off kissing her. He’d stayed with her at first because he couldn’t have left her alone to take care of herself. But now, after spending the afternoon watching over her, he’d found himself watching her.

  Wanting her.

  A hissing sound drew his attention. Realizing that the macaroni was boiling over, he turned down the heat and mopped up the mess. While the noodles finished cooking, he heated the sauce a little more, then searched for some kind of bread to go with the meal.

  Finding none in her pantry, he walked to the refrigerator. As he started to open the door, a picture taped to the front of it caught his eye. Taken in the moonlight, the scene seemed so out of place in her dingy kitchen that it had almost jumped out at him.

  Now the picture seemed to mesmerize him. “Mexico— Experience the Magic” was emblazoned bold-faced across the top of it. Amid the backdrop of the shimmering gulf and a magnificent full moon, two lovers lay on the sand, entwined in each other’s arms.

  Examining it, Deke noticed the serrated edges of the paper and suspected that it had been torn from one of the magazines. Was Mary Beth planning a vacation? She must be, he thought, remembering all the travel magazines he’d seen lying around.

  But how could she be pl
anning a trip? It didn’t seem like something Mary Beth would do. She’d always been so level-headed. Surely she wouldn’t spend money on a vacation when the ranch needed so much work.

  Or would she? Did he really know her that well? Deke had to admit that he didn’t. As kids, they’d never really been friends. To tell the truth, he’d always just thought of her as a neighbor.

  But he’d thought about her a lot after they’d made love. Mainly that he wanted to make love with her again, and that had scared the living daylights out of him. Over the past two years, his views on getting involved with a woman hadn’t changed. After seeing his two older brothers and his sister recently marry, Deke was wary of spending too much time with the same woman.

  He was better off alone, where he wouldn’t let down anyone he loved.

  Like you let your father down.

  Yeah, he should feel guilty, he told himself. Living with guilt made him steer clear of women with white lace and flowers on their mind.

  Women like Mary Beth.

  He ran his hand along the edge of the picture, then sighed and opened the refrigerator door. There was a can of biscuits on a shelf, and thinking a week or so wasn’t too long, he ignored the purchase-by date and popped open the can. Within a few minutes they were baking in the oven.

  With the rest of the meal ready, he put the full plates on the table, filled glasses with tea he found already made in the fridge, then went to see if Mary Beth was still asleep.

  She was. She’d shifted to her side on the sofa, and her short white T-shirt had bunched up, baring her midriff. His gaze ran slowly over her. Her skin looked smooth and satiny. Her jeans were snug on her hips, and his mind wandered to that tiny mole he remembered being right at the top of her thigh. He’d thought it kind of sexy.

  Damn! He’d been traveling a lot and competing hard, and he hadn’t had much time for a social life.

  He needed a woman.

  Badly.

  Knowing that woman couldn’t be Mary Beth, he approached her with trepidation, wanting to touch her, but knowing he needed to rein in his awareness of her.