Книга - Slow Talkin’ Texan

Slow Talkin' Texan
Mary Lynn Baxter


MAN of the MonthMR. NOVEMBERThe Problem: Sexy single dad Porter Wyman was a Texan born and bred, but this tycoon's fortune was no help in his current predicament. If he didn't get some assistance with baby Matthew soon, he was going to run for the hills.The Solution: Ellen Sexton. She was silk to his denim. Lace to his leather. And whether she knew it or not, she was the perfect woman to cuddle little Mathew - not to mention his dad!Next Steps: Convince this independent filly that settling down to a ready-made family was the trail to a tried-and-true happily-ever-after.Man of the Month: This Texas tycoon was used to getting what he wanted, and what he wanted now… was Ellen!







Porter Wyman. (#ua727c485-1f11-5384-96b8-e7e1876b697b)Letter to Reader (#u86261b9b-2569-51fd-9d83-87c2a3257b1d)Title Page (#u7ba23544-19c0-5fe1-96a2-9b020691ada1)About the Author (#u3e9bd5b7-3cf0-5b2e-8481-e1b8ec898812)Chapter One (#u7af2c21e-7e9f-5a24-94b6-b6242d151f31)Chapter Two (#u96dd27de-4783-578a-82a7-b8b1bb7ddefb)Chapter Three (#ud0086c97-5396-5286-881b-c1d30e383fbe)Chapter Four (#u3d085c57-b83a-5773-874c-a23ebadceb12)Chapter Five (#u701f1693-91cb-5883-adb6-d0761997e50a)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Porter Wyman.

She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about any man, not in a personal way. Generic thoughts about him and his baby were harmless. But dwelling on the man himself was not a good idea.

What was there about the rancher turned businessman that had snagged her attention in the first place? Admittedly, he was good-looking in a rugged sort of way, with his dark hair, chocolate eyes and athletic build. But attractive or not, a slow-grinning man who had an infant to raise wasn’t for her.

For so long she hadn’t given any man the time of day, much less anything else. And she wasn’t going to give Porter anything else, either.


Dear Reader,

Hectic life? Too much to do, too little time? Well, Silhouette Desire provides you with the perfect emotional getaway with this month’s moving stories of men and women finding love and passion. So relax, pick up a Desire novel and let yourself escape, with six wonderful, involving, totally absorbing romances.

Ultratalented author Mary Lynn Baxter kicks off November with her sultry Western style in Slow Talkin‘ Tuan. the story of a MAN OF THE MONTH whose strong desires collide with an independent lady—she’s silk to his denim, lace to his leather...and doing all she can to resist this irresistible tycoon. A small-town lawman who rescues a “lost” beauty might just find his own Christmas bride in Jennifer Greene’s heartwarming Her Holiday Secret. Ladies, watch closely as a Thirty-Day Fiancé is transformed into a forever husband in Leanne Banks’s third book in THE RULEBREAKERS miniseries.

Don’t dare miss the intensity of an innocent wife trying to seduce her honor-bound husband in The Oldest Living Married Virgin, the latest in Maureen Child’s spectacular miniseries THE BACHELOR BATTALION. And when a gorgeous exmarine shows up at his old flame’s ranch to round up the “wife who got away,” he discovers a daughter he never knew in The Re-Enlisted Groom by Amy J. Fetzer. The Forbidden Bride-to-Be may be off-limits...but isn’t that what makes the beautiful heroine in Kathryn Taylor’s scandal-filled novel all the more tempting?

This November, Silhouette Desire is the place to live, love and lose yourself...to sensual romance. Enjoy!

Warm regards,

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3


Slow Talkin’ Texan

Mary Lynn Baxter










www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


MARY LYNN BAXTER

A native Texan, Mary Lynn Baxter knew instinctively that books would occupy an important part of her life. Always an avid reader, she became a school librarian, then a bookstore owner, before writing her first novel. Now Mary Lynn Baxter is an award-winning author who has written more than thirty novels, many of which have appeared on the USA Today list.


One

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“For Pete’s sake, it won’t kill you. Not one time, anyway.”

Ellen Saxton flashed her sister, Megan Drysdale, a put-out look. “It’s easy for you to say. After all, you have a child.”

“So?” Megan responded with a grin, which called marked attention to a dimple embedded in her left cheek.

Ellen gave her another look, followed by an unladylike snort. “So you know how to take care of one.”

Meg was a part-time worker in the nursery in the small Baptist church she’d been active in for several years. According to her, the nursery was always shorthanded and in need of substitute helpers.

“Think of this as just another adventure in your life,” Meg said, her lips twitching.

“Oh, brother.” Ellen rolled her eyes and watched her sister shift a precious two-year-old girl in her arms, then rock her. For sure, Meg had a knack with children.

Ellen felt a pang of envy for something she had missed in life and would more than likely never experience. By choice, she reminded herself quickly:

“Honestly, sis,” Meg said, “it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to change a baby’s diaper.”

“Well, it ought to,” Ellen muttered more to herself than to Meg, while she turned her attention to the twenty-month-old baby boy in her charge.

His name was Matthew, and though he was a beautiful baby, even to her novice eyes, she hoped he wouldn’t dirty his diaper while in her care. However, she feared that was wishful thinking. Besides, Meg wasn’t about to let her get by without experiencing that side of motherhood.

Her next words confirmed that thought. “Just poke a finger inside his diaper and see if he’s wet.” Meg paused, then smiled a mischievous smile. “Or otherwise.”

“It’s the otherwise that has me concerned”

Meg laughed outright. “You really ought to loosen up a bit, you know.”

“I wish I could.”

“You can. Now that you’re no longer married to that jerk, you have no reason to be strung out. Just pick up Matthew and cuddle him. You’ll feel yourself mellow out.”

Ellen shook her head. “Why bother him when he’s content to sit on the floor and play with the toys?”

“Suit yourself,” Meg said with a grin, “but if you’re thinking what I think you are, you can think again.”

“Now what would that be?” Ellen’s tone was sugar-coated with innocence.

“Don’t play the dumb-blonde with me. It won’t work. We may only have two babies, but you’re not cutting out.”

Ellen gave her a sheepish look followed by a resigned sigh. “Give it a rest, okay? I gave my word, and though I wish I were home drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper, I’m not going to leave you in the lurch.”

“Praise the Lord.”

“Having said that, you know you could handle them both. You’re punishing me for something. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”

“Think of it as calling in a favor,” Meg responded with a wink.

“Now that I can buy.”

Meg shifted the suddenly squirming child to the other arm before narrowing her gaze back on Ellen. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. When it’s all said and done, I owe you much more than you owe me.”

“Hey, we’re not keeping score here.” Ellen reached over and wiped the slobber off of Matthew’s chin.

Meg chuckled. “See, you do know what you’re doing.”

“I wouldn’t take that to the bank.”

“Well, maybe your expertise does lie more in the workplace than in the homeplace, but—”

“But still, I’m not getting off the hook. Right?”

Meg grinned down at Matthew. “Right. But I’ll concede that choosing a career over motherhood was the right thing for you. However, it’s not too late for you to change your mind.”

“I’m happy with my life as it is, thank you.”

“I’m glad, now that I’ve lured you closer to me and my family.”

Ellen gave a vigorous nod, agreeing with her sister wholeheartedly on that account. But the move from the booming town of Tyler, Texas, to this small, historic town of Nacogdoches hadn’t been an easy one. Still, Ellen wasn’t complaining. She’d found a prime location and opened her second coffee/gift shop, called Coffee, Anyone?

She was excited about that latest venture, despite the warnings that such a business might not take hold in a town of this size. She had merely ignored the naysayers and gone forward with enthusiasm.

To date, that positive attitude had paid off. According to the gossip hounds, her shop was now the place to go. Ellen was thrilled, of course, and hoped the excitement would last.

Opening a new business and getting it operational in just six months had been taxing, and she was exhausted. That was why she’d been reluctant to help Megan on Sunday, her only day off. While she’d done her best to finagle a way out, Meg wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then again, the feeling that she owed Meg more than she could ever repay had been a huge motivator.

Thank goodness there were only two babies in their care. Meg had chosen the little girl, because she was the most hyper. Matthew, on the other hand, had so far been content to remain on the floor and play with the toys that surrounded him.

Ellen glanced at her watch and breathed a sigh of relief. If all went according to plan, in thirty more minutes church would be over and her obligation ended. Her thoughts were interrupted by her sister’s voice.

“I know this is probably a no-no, but have you heard from your ex?”

Ellen avoided looking at her sister, and when she spoke, her answer was succinct. “No.”

“Oops. Did I hit a sore spot? I have a habit of putting my big foot in my mouth.”

Ellen forced a smile. “That you do, sis dear. But in this case, you didn’t. Besides, he doesn’t want to talk to me any more than I want to talk to him. We’re history.”

“God, I hope so. You deserve to be happy, something that would never have happened if you’d stayed with him.”

“Speaking of husbands, how’s Ralph?”

“The same. Gone all the time,” Meg admitted with brutal frankness.

Ralph was a truck driver who Ellen thought preferred being on the road rather than tending to responsibilities at home. Apparently Meg agreed, though she’d never voiced her displeasure before.

“How’s his health?” Ellen asked, her concern growing.

“The doctor can’t seem to get his diabetes under control. And his driving that truck all over the country doesn’t help the situation.”

“Maybe the doctor can get through to him.”

“He won’t listen. Besides, I don’t know what we’d do if he did get off the road, though he’s not getting the good hauls like he used to.”

“Meggy, I sense something’s going on that I need to know about.”

“No more than usual. It’s just that Kyle’s seventeen and needs his dad around. It’s all I can do to keep the bit in his mouth. I love him, but sometimes I could strangle him. And Ralph, too.”

Ellen almost flinched visibly on hearing the pain and frustration in her sister’s voice. Cutting another glance at Meg, she saw those emotions on her face, as well.

While Meg had never lost the weight after Kyle was born, at thirty-five she was still an attractive, brown-eyed brunette. But Ellen sensed that her sister was under more stress than she let on, suspecting the family was not only short on unity but funds, as well.

However, Ellen was reluctant to voice those thoughts. Meg was both proud and private, but when and if she needed help, hopefully she would ask for it.

Though they were as different in looks and personality as two sisters could be, they were close, having lost their parents within a year of each other—one to cancer and the other to a stroke. That tragedy had created a bond that would never be broken.

Suddenly Matthew let out a wail, jerking her back to the moment at hand. Shoving a strand of strawberry blond hair out of her face, Ellen got out of the chair, leaned over and hauled him into her arms.

Meg grinned. “He’s quite a chunk, isn’t he?”

“You can say that again. If I had to carry him around for any length of time, I think he’d break my arms.”

“You’d get used to it.”

“I doubt that.” Then, to Matt, she said, “Hey, kid, mind your manners and stop wiggling.”

“You might as well ask for a million dollars,” Meg said. “Him being still ain’t gonna happen.”

“I guess I’d best check his diaper.” Ellen’s tone was resigned. “Maybe that’s what’s wrong with him.”

“Probably.”

Ellen gave Meg a pleading look. “I’ll hold Miss Prissy if you’ll change him for me.”

“Not on your life. He’s yours for the duration.”

“I’ll remember this.”

Meg laughed. “I’m sure you will—for more reasons than one.”

“Oh, all right, have your fun. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Go for it, sis.”

Ellen made a face at Meg before she carried Matthew across the room to the changing station and laid him down. Immediately he started crying and flinging his arms and legs about.

“Hey, sweetie, hold your horses, okay? This won’t take long, I promise.”

Somehow Ellen managed to get his diaper, which was indeed wet, off. In fact, it was soaked. Much to her relief, that was all he’d done.

From behind, Ellen heard her sister chuckling. Without turning, she said, “Behave yourself and get your butt over here and help me.”

“You don’t need me. You’re doing just fine.”

“How can you say that when he’s squirming so hard I can’t get the clean diaper under him?” Ellen asked.

“You’ll manage.”

“Megan,” Ellen said through clenched teeth, “I swear if this kid pees on me, I’ll—” Suddenly she broke off with a loud cry as a stream of liquid shot up and landed first on her chin and then on her yellow silk blouse.

For a moment Ellen froze. Then she let out a loud cry of her own. “Yuk!”

“Uh-oh, looks like he had an accident.” Meg’s voice quivered with laughter. “I can’t believe the little fellow did that.”

“Yes, you can,” Ellen spat, fighting to get the diaper under Matt and the tabs in place. Once that was done, she whipped around to face her sister, only to stop and stare at the doorway.

A man with a wide grin splayed across his face filled the space. That grin turned lazy as his eyes toured her body. Ellen flushed, conscious of the ugly stain front and center on her blouse.

Flustered and unnerved by this stranger’s stare, which seemed to make fun of her ineptness, she snapped her eyes off him and back onto the still-squirming baby.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Ellen responded in a scoffing tone, thinking it unlikely that this rangy cowboy was any more adept at changing a diaper than she was. “Everything’s under control.”

“Are you sure about that?” he drawled

“Yes, I’m sure,” Ellen said coldly.

Megan stood and cleared her throat. “Uh, Ellen, this is Porter Wyman, Matthew’s daddy.”


Two

More mortified than she’d ever been in her life, Ellen stood transfixed and watched as Matthew’s daddy, six feet of muscle and brawn, tipped his hat, then sauntered toward them.

The instant Matthew saw his daddy, he squirmed, waved his arms and grinned from ear to ear.

“Whoa, little boy.” Ellen held on to him for dear life, fearing he was going to leap out of her arms.

“He’s a handful, I’ll admit,” Porter said, reaching to take him from Ellen.

Feeling splotches of color invade her cheeks, Ellen kept her face averted. She had no idea what this man was thinking, but she could guess. All the more reason not to be on the receiving end of those brown eyes that reminded her of dark chocolate.

“Hey, son, you and me need to have a talk,” Porter said in a gravelly voice that sounded as if he could easily have been a drinking man.

Ellen knew better. He was in too good shape physically, especially his midsection. Even though it was disguised under a cotton shirt, she bet it would resemble an old-time washboard. Realizing the direction her thoughts had taken, her color heightened.

“Yeah, son, when we get home, we’ve got to talk about manners.”

“I’ll have to say, he pulled a boner,” Meg chimed in, laughter threatening to bubble over.

“Shame on you.” Porter gave his son a playful tug on the chin before transferring his gaze to Megan.

“How ’bout introducing me to your friend my son just assaulted?”

Ellen forced herself to look at her sister, then at Porter. They were having a good laugh at her expense, and she wanted to turn up her nose at them. But she knew that would make the situation worse for her. She kept her features devoid of emotion. Yet she couldn’t help but bristle inside.

“Actually she’s my little sister,” Meg said with a devilish smile.

“Ah, I see. Well, does she have a name?”

“It’d be nice if y’all would stop talking about me as if I weren’t in the room.” Ellen heard the sharp primness in her tone, but she didn’t care. To hell with both of them.

“That she does,” Meg said, as if Ellen hadn’t spoken. “Porter, meet Ellen Saxton.”

Porter again tipped his Stetson, and his smile burgeoned, showing a row of perfect white teeth that added an extra dimension to his attractiveness. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Same here,” Ellen said, telling an outright lie.

“Sorry about the uh, accident,” Porter said, his gaze narrowing on her.

Again Ellen wondered what was going on behind those incredible eyes, then mentally kicked herself for caring. It wouldn’t bother her if she never saw him or his kid again. She just wished he would take Matthew and leave. Her patience with this entire episode was wearing thinner than a piece of rotten thread.

“That’s okay,” Ellen finally said. “It happens with babies.”

Porter’s gaze held steady. “So you know.”

“Not from experience.” Ellen’s response was stiff.

“Ah, that’s too bad.”

That’s your opinion, she wanted to lash back. But she didn’t; she curbed her tongue, not giving a damn what he said or thought.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Meg said with a chuckle. “My sister’s not the motherly type.”

Porter shifted his eyes back to Ellen. “Well, anyhow, tell the cleaners to send me the bill for your blouse.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ellen said. “It’s no big deal.”

“I insist,” Porter said, a hint of steel in his tone, though his pleasant demeanor didn’t change.

Ellen shrugged. “Fine.”

Porter looked at her for another long moment, then turned to Meg. “So how are things with you and your family?”

“I guess all right.”

An eyebrow quirked. “You don’t sound so sure.”

“Thanks for asking.”

“You bet,” Porter said.

Ellen noticed how cleverly her sister had sidestepped the question. She swallowed a sigh, wishing Meg would confide in her, unable to squelch the feeling that something was not quite right with Meg and her family.

“We’re outta here.”

Porter walked over and reached for Matthew’s diaper bag. “Much obliged for taking care of my kid.”

Later Ellen was sure it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn his eyes lingered on her a bit longer than necessary.

After he’d gone, silence filled the room, though not for long. The little girl’s parents came for her, but once they were gone and the sisters were finally by themselves, Meg laughed outright, pointing at the dark stain on Ellen’s blouse.

Ellen glared at her. “If you don’t put a lid on it, I just might strangle you.”

Meg laughed that much harder.

“Megan, I’m warning you!”

“All right, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not, not in the least,” Ellen retorted, though she was having a hard time keeping a straight face herself.

“All I can say is, you got christened whether you wanted to or not.”

“Funny.”

“I thought so.”

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. And so, sister dear, I’m leaving.” Ellen’s tone was huffy as she made her way to the door, but not before grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. She’d begun to smell herself and feared she was about to be sick to her stomach.

“Hey, hold your horses,” Meg cried.

Ellen stopped and swung around. “Why? I upheld my end of the bargain. I helped you out Now I’m going home.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about Porter Wyman?”

“Should I be?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact you should.”

“why?”

“I figured that was obvious.”

“Well, you figured wrong.”

“God, sis, I know you’re divorced, but I didn’t think you were dead.”

Ellen counted to ten. “I hardly think my lack of curiosity about your friend qualifies me as a cadaver.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“Nope, sorry, I don’t.”

“Look, I know you’re not still carrying a torch for your ex.”

“Megan, what’s this all about? I’m tired. I stink. I want to go home. I want a bath.”

Meg laughed again. “You stink, huh?”

“Boy, you’re sure full of piss and vinegar today. Too bad Ralph’s not home to take some of that starch out of you.”

“We’re talking about you, not me.” Meg paused, grinning again. “I saw the way Porter looked at you.”

In spite of herself, Ellen flushed, then wished she could reach her own backside so she could kick it. “And just how was that?”

“You know.”

Ellen’s lips thinned. “No, I don’t know, and what’s more, I don’t care. For heaven’s sake, Meg, the man’s married with a baby. If he was looking at me, then he’s a cad.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong. He has every right to look at you, or any other woman he pleases. You see, he’s not married.”

Ellen frowned. “Then whose baby is that?”

“His.”

“His, but—” Ellen clamped her lips shut. This was a subject she wasn’t interested in pursuing, though Meg certainly was. Maybe if she indulged her, then she could go home and get that coveted bath.

“Right after Matt was born, Porter’s wife, Wanda, hauled ass.”

Ellen’s mouth flopped open. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t kid about something like that. The scandal stood this town on its ear.”

“What made her do such a thing?”

Meg lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Gossip had it she couldn’t handle motherhood or being tied down, which, in my book, translates into not wanting to be married.”

Ellen shook her head, trying to take it all in. “You never know what goes on behind closed doors. Maybe there were reasons why she didn’t want to stay married to him.”

Meg snorted. “I don’t believe that for a second. She was just trailer trash when they tied the knot, and even though she married money, she couldn’t break that trashy mold.”

“You mean he has money?”

“Tons.”

“Could’ve fooled me. He looked like he shops at the nearest Goodwill. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Ellen hastened to add, “if that’s the best you can do.”

“Around here, jeans and boots hardly qualify as Goodwill duds.”

Ellen sighed. “Whatever.”

“Porter’s probably the richest man in town.”

“That blows my mind.”

Megan grinned. “Besides being rich, he’s the most sought after bachelor in the county.”

“Good for him.”

“Still not interested?”

“Not in the least.”

“Sure about that?”

“Deadbang sure.”

“He’s a damn good catch.

“Then let someone else go fishing.”

“cut.”

Ellen gave her a cheeky grin. “Thought so myself.”

“Of course, I’ve been told he’s sworn off women, that he’s only interested in raising his son.”

“Kudos to him.”

“Heavens, sis, you’re a hard nut to crack. Aren’t you the least bit interested in how he got all his money?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Right.”

“Then get it over with,” Ellen said in a bored tone.

“He owns a huge farm equipment store, plus thousands of acres of prime ranch land.”

“So he’s a real East Texas cowboy.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Down girl. Nothing’s wrong with that He’s just not my type, even if I were interested in a man, which I’m not.”

“I hope that creep you were married to hasn’t turned you off men for good.”

“Maybe not for good, but certainly for now.”

“You’re too young to have that attitude.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Meggy. You didn’t live with Samuel.”

Meg’s face sobered along with Ellen’s. “I know it was bad, but—”

“Let’s just say that it was far worse than even you knew.”

Meg’s face turned pale. “He...he didn’t physically abuse you, did he?”

“No, but—” Ellen broke off. “Look, Samuel’s history, and I’d rather not dredge up the past.” She forced a lame smile. “Especially when I smell like stale pee.”

Meg giggled, then cocked her head to one side. “I can understand that, although Kyle only showered me one time that I can remember.” She paused. “Seriously, you wouldn’t consider going out with Porter if he were to ask you?”

“Read my lips. No, Megan!”

Meg backed up and held up her hands. “Okay, okay. I get the picture.”

“I’m not sure you do. I don’t care how much money the man has, or how much land. He’s not my type. Besides, I have my shop, and that’s enough for me. I need to heal emotionally. Only time will tell if I can handle another relationship.”

“You’re right Sorry, I got out of line. But you can’t blame me for trying. I really like Porter, and I really like you, so—” Meg broke off with a grin.

“So it ain’t gonna happen. Babies and cowboys are not my thing and never will be.”

And with that Ellen flashed her sister a saccharine sweet smile and walked out the door.


Three

Ellen couldn’t control the smile that spread across her face, even though she still smelled like a dirty diaper. Instead of going home as planned, she’d gone to the shop.

Every time she walked inside her domain, a giddy feeling washed through her. This Sunday afternoon proved no exception.

She didn’t know why she had changed her mind and come here. Maybe it was because she had wanted to prove something to herself. Even though she didn’t have the two things in her life that most women had or coveted: a husband and a child, she was nevertheless a fulfilled woman.

Envy of others’ situations was utter nonsense, she knew. Yet she couldn’t seem to toss such feelings aside as easily as she once had, especially after today and her experience in the church nursery.

However, this morning had changed nothing, except to reenforce the fact that she had made the right decision in divorcing Samuel. Conceiving a child under those circumstances would have been a disaster.

Ellen perused the coffee shop, which was at the end of a building housing several antique shops, each unique in what it sold. Coffee, Anyone? carried that uniqueness a step further in that it had a small private courtyard attached, giving her customers the feeling of drinking and dining in an atmosphere rivaling that of an open-air French café.

She had made the most of that unusual outdoor setting by decorating it to the hilt with small tables and flowering potted plants. A wonderful fountain in the middle provided an extra touch.

The inside was no slouch, either. The shelves featured a wide range of prepackaged gourmet foods, gift items from stationery to small wedding presents, and custom gift baskets.

Of course, the drawing card was the coffee. Virtually every popular gourmet brand, with frozen cappuccino the most sought after, was served. In addition, finger sandwiches, salads and delectable desserts were on the menu.

In just six months, this second Coffee, Anyone? was as successful as the larger one she’d left behind in Tyler. A friend, who was also a savvy businesswoman, was the manager there now.

But her success in Nacogdoches hadn’t been without its price. Ellen was bone-weary from working day and night to get to this stage. There had been bumps along the way, bumps that still hadn’t been smoothed out. The equipment was one of her biggest concerns. She’d had trouble with some of the machines since day one, mainly because they were used models. Soon she hoped to replace them with new ones.

She’d been fortunate with her help, which was a big hurdle to overcome. In the beginning, Meg had pitched in and helped sort through boxes. Before opening, she’d hired a college girl who so far had been good and dependable. But for the most part, the business was her baby, and she loved every minute of nurturing it.

Thinking of it as “her baby” changed Ellen’s expression from a smile to a forlorn one, her mind suddenly switching to the love she’d seen mirrored in Porter’s eyes when he’d taken his son from her arms.

More than likely she would never experience that kind of love. Still, she told herself, that was out of choice, not necessity.

“So stop the pity party,” she muttered aloud. Besides, pity parties weren’t much fun alone.

Deciding she needed a cup of iced coffee to buck up her spirits and combat the climbing June heat, Ellen made an iced cappuccino in a paper cup so she could take it home with her.

Thirty minutes later, she was in her rented patio home, out of the shower and still sipping the iced coffee. While her mind remained a bit unsettled, at least she no longer smelled.

The memory of the incident in the nursery suddenly brought on a smile, a smile that soon faded into sadness as a bout of intense loneliness struck her.

Before she could beat up on herself for wandering down that forbidden path, the phone rang. It was Meg.

“Didn’t I just leave you?” Ellen asked, a teasing note in her voice.

“That you did,” Meg responded.

“So, what’s up?”

“Want to come to dinner? Before I left for church, I put a roast and all the fixings in the Crock-Pot. I should’ve asked sooner, but I forgot.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Okay.” Meg paused. “By the way, thought any more about Porter?”

“No, dammit, I haven’t. There’s nothing to think about.”

“Hey, don’t jump on me. I was just hoping.”

“Well, hope in another direction. Like I told you, it ain’t gonna happen.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Well, it’s not the first one, and it sure as hell won’t be the last one, either.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re hard-headed.”

“I guess that makes us sorta even.”

“So I’ll talk to you later, Meggy dear.”

With that, Ellen placed the receiver back on the hook, though she continued to stare at it. One thing about Meg, she knew which buttons to push. If she could get her hands on her sister, she would strangle her, and cheerfully, too.

Porter Wyman.

She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about any man, not in a personal way. Generic thoughts about him and his baby were harmless. But dwelling on the man himself was not a good idea.

Still, Ellen’s mind wouldn’t let go, even though she straightened the house with a vigor she should have reserved for the shop. Come morning, she had a storeroom full of “pretties” to unpack and enter on the computer.

What was there about the rancher turned businessman that had snagged her attention in the first place? Admittedly, he was good-looking in a rugged sort of way, with his dark hair, chocolate eyes and athletic build. But since her divorce, she’d run across several men who fit that mold. She hadn’t given any of them the time of day, much less anything else. She wasn’t going to give Porter anything, either.

Attractive or not, a slow-grinning man who had an infant to raise wasn’t for her. She doubted he ever would be, though she was quick not to classify herself as a cold-hearted career woman.

For now, she was into treating herself well. That was what the shop was all about It was something she had created, something she’d accomplished on her own. Before, during the Samuel years, everything had been done according to his wishes.

He had been a control freak as well as a perfectionist A perfectionist herself, she had thought she and Samuel would be a match made in heaven. She found out quickly just how wrong she’d been. Their union had turned into a match made in hell.

Maybe she would marry again, and maybe she would even have a child, just not anytime soon. The scars left from her two-year marriage were too raw.

Since she didn’t believe in wallowing in self-pity and crying over what might have been, she had picked up the broken pieces of her life and gone on. She was free to go about her life without fear of Samuel’s unwanted presence.

That was the main reason she didn’t want to get involved with another man, especially someone like Porter Wyman. Besides, she didn’t have a clue how to care for a child. No doubt he’d gotten that message today.

Thrusting aside the image of Porter’s lazy grin and gait as he came toward her, Ellen leapt off the couch, grabbed her purse and headed to the door.

The ringing phone stopped her, but only momentarily. “Not this time, Meg,” she said, walking out the door. She was going back to the office to work.

She’d had her fill of her sister and that cowboy for one day.

“Like that, huh?”

Matthew’s laughter rang out as Porter tossed him once again into the air.

“That’s all, son. Daddy has to go to work.”

“Anything special you want me to do today?”

Porter gave his son a smack on the cheek before turning to face his housekeeper and nanny, Bonnie Temple. She was an attractive, dark-haired woman with expressive green eyes.

Although she was forty-five years old, ten years his senior, she didn’t look it. Her build was slight and her hair was minus any gray, or any that he could see, anyway. But then, what did he know about hair color? His ex, Wanda, had changed hers with the seasons.

When Wanda had left him, he’d hired Bonnie immediately; she had come highly recommended. He hadn’t been sorry one day. She was great with Matthew, having reared three children of her own. Because she was a widow, she also had the necessary freedom and flexibility to care for him and Matt.

She was smiling at him now, waiting for his answer.

He smiled back. “Nope, can’t think of a thing, except to take care of my boy here.”

“That goes without saying.”

Porter handed Matthew to her.

“Is steak all right for dinner?” Bonnie asked.

“I might not be home till late, but I’ll let you know.”

Porter noticed the frown that suddenly doused Bonnie’s smile, but he didn’t comment on it. Not only did she love to clean house, but she loved to cook. If he didn’t have so much land and so many cattle to care for, he’d have to watch his waistline.

A few minutes later, Porter climbed into his fancy truck and headed toward the store, knowing he should be in the pasture mending that south fence. He would take care of that tomorrow if Joe, his foreman, didn’t get to it.

With the business and the ranch, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day, especially because he always tried to make time for Matt. That was a must. His son would always come first, no matter what.

His son.

What a perfect thought on a perfect summer day, he told himself, as he swung into his parking slot at the store a short time later.

“Morning.”

Porter climb out of the cab and watched as his friend and manager, George Hays, limped toward him. George was another person he couldn’t imagine doing without. In his late fifties, George had been injured in ’Nam. Even with a badly mangled leg, he was a workhorse. The store was an awesome responsibility, and George handled it and the customers like a pro.

But unlike him, George needed to watch his waistline. In fact, he needed to go on an outright diet, Porter thought, worried that his friend might have a stroke. Although he didn’t drink beer, George had the proverbial beer-belly.

“Don’t say a damn word,” George grumbled as they walked into the building and made their way to the coffee room at the back.

“I don’t recall opening my mouth.”

George glared at him before filling a cup with coffee. “But you were thinking it.”

Porter grinned, then filled his own cup. “Hell, don’t climb all over me. You know what you have to do. The doctor’s already warned you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Porter shook his head, sat down at the round table and remained silent, while George followed suit.

“So what else is on your mind?”

Porter narrowed his gaze. “What makes you think there’s anything?”

“’Cause I know you.”

“You old coot, you just think you know me.”

“Let’s have it.”

Porter lifted the cup and blew on the liquid, his eyes on George. After taking a sip, he said, “I met a woman.”

George harrumphed.

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“After Wanda, I was under the impression you’d sworn off women.”

“I had. I have, I mean.”

“You can’t have it both ways.” George didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

George chuckled. “Okay, you’ve got my curiosity roused. Who is she?”

Porter told him, then listened as laughter bent George double. “So Matt christened her real good. And in the church, too. What a hoot!”

“That he did, and that it was.”

George chuckled again. “So what’s next?”

“Don’t know.”

And he didn’t. After Wanda left him, he had indeed sworn off women. So far, he’d kept that vow. But after meeting Ellen Saxton, he was having second thoughts—big time. Under the circumstances, what man wouldn’t? He was convinced she was the prettiest woman he’d seen in a long time, with her strawberry blond hair, periwinkle eyes and a body that made him sit up and take notice whether he wanted to or not.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I’d like to see her again, but she’s as uptight as she is pretty. Unfortunately.”

“Too bad. Them uptight women are hell to handle.”

“You’re telling me. I seem to have a knack for getting involved with prissy, independent women.”

“Then leave her alone.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not? If you’re hankering to play again, this town’s full of easy women.” George winked. “If you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean, all right. But there’s something about this particular one that’s special, that intrigues me.”

“And you’re hell-bent on finding out what that something is.”

“You got it.”

George stood and peered down at his boss. “Want some advice?”

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna give it anyway.”

“Figured you would.”

“No matter how intrigued you get, keep your damn fly zipped. Okay?”


Four

What was that noise?

Ellen paused just inside the back door of the shop and listened, certain she heard something, something that sounded very much like smothered giggles. Of course, that couldn’t be. It was only a smidgen past eight-thirty in the morning. Her part-time helper, who was a college student, wasn’t due in until around ten, opening time.

Yet Ellen heard the sound again. She frowned at the same time that her heart upped its beat. Could the noise be rats? God forbid. That thought panicked her more than an intruder.

Easing down her carryall and purse, she tiptoed toward the front of the shop, only to pull up short and stare, her mouth gaping.

Janis Waller, her employee, was going at it hot and heavy with some young man. She had no idea who he was. His back was to her. Nonetheless, she could hear the sucking and moaning sounds resulting from their kissing and fondling. From where she stood, she could even see him squeezing one of Janis’s breasts.

When she finally found her voice, Ellen snapped, “The party’s over, kids.”

If she had screamed fire, they couldn’t have been more stunned. They broke apart instantly. Janis’s hand flew to her mouth, while her eyes, wide and round, landed on Ellen.

“Uh, Ms. Saxton, I didn’t expect—” she stammered.

“That’s obvious.”

Red stained the petite redhead’s cheeks as she faced the young man. Though his back was still to Ellen, she sensed he was as shaken as his girlfriend. His shoulders were as rigid as a block of wood, a block of wood that seemed suddenly familiar.

“Maybe you should introduce me to your friend,” Ellen said with a coolness she was far from feeling.

The red stain in Janis’s cheeks flared even more as the boy inched around. For a moment Ellen simply stared into his ashen face, trying not to show her shock and anger.

“Hello, Kyle.”

“Hi, Aunt Ellen.”

Another silence lasted for several heartbeats. Ellen broke it on a harsh sigh. “First off, why aren’t you in class?”

Kyle, Meg’s only child, was a senior in high school. By all accounts, he should have been in first period—unless he planned to cut classes altogether. From the looks of things, that was exactly what he planned.

If she hadn’t come in when she had, would they have been on the floor making love? Kids!

“Are you going to tell Mother?”

“No, you are.”

Though big and strong like his daddy, he seemed to wilt like an unwatered flower in the hot sun.

“I...can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.”

His features turned a sickly green. “She’ll kill me.”

“I doubt that, but she might want to.”

Kyle’s mouth turned down, giving it a sullen twist. “She’s been on my case about everything lately.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you pulled this little stunt.” Ellen focused her attention on Janis. “What’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch us,” the girl said with unexpected honesty. “I figured Kyle would be gone before you got here.”

Ellen shifted her gaze back to her nephew. “So you weren’t planning on playing hooky?”

“Nah.”

Ellen didn’t believe him for a minute, but she wasn’t about to argue. She felt sorry for her sister. This wasn’t the first trouble Kyle had been in, and it wouldn’t be the last. Still, Meg was going to have a conniption fit. With her husband ill and on the road, this stunt would worsen an already volatile situation.

Ellen held out her hand. “The key, Janis.”

What a mess, Ellen thought, as she took the key from the girl and slipped it into the pocket of her slacks. Janis Waller’s parents were both wealthy and well-respected. She had met them at a party shortly after she’d arrived in Nacogdoches. The party had been in their home, and they had asked her to give their daughter a job. Janis needed something to keep her busy when she wasn’t in class, they had told her.

Ellen could understand why now. But she had trusted Janis enough to give her a key in the event that she herself couldn’t get there to open on time. Until now, the young woman had never given her a moment’s hint that she was anything other than trustworthy and reliable.

“When did you two become an item?” Ellen asked into the growing silence.

The kids looked at each other, then both shrugged. “Several months ago,” Janis finally said.

“I see.”

Janis fiddled with the collar of her blouse. “Are you going to fire me?”

“Don’t you think I should?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Janis said, lowering her head.

“Only I wish you’d give me another chance.” Her head popped up, and her eyes were pleading. “My parents’ ll kill me, too.”

Ellen didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “Cut the dramatics, both of you. While I’m certainly offended by your actions, I’m more upset that Kyle wasn’t in school.”

“I hate school,” Kyle muttered.

“So did I,” Ellen said coldly, “but I still went.”

“You don’t understand.”

Janis looked at him, then reached for his hand. “Please, just go. Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m outta here.”

He leaned over and kissed Janis full on the lips, as if to show Ellen that she didn’t scare him. Ellen swallowed a sigh along with the urge to grab him, turn him over her knee and wallop the living daylights out of him. He was too old and too big for such antics.

Besides, he wasn’t her kid. Meg and Ralph were responsible for her nephew’s behavior, not she, thank goodness. However, she was worried. Kyle’s armor of belligerence was a legitimate concern.

Once he was gone, Janis stared at the floor again before looking back up at Ellen. “I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

Ellen smiled. “Yes.”

“What about Kyle?”

“What about him?”

Janis hesitated, a frown marring her forehead. “He’s been acting kind of squirrelly lately. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Me, either. But right now, you and I have work to do. There are six boxes to unpack. That’s your job.”

“Then I’m not fired?”

“No. I believe in second chances, but not third ones.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ellen ran a hand through her hair, and her palm came away moist. Damn, but it was hot, she thought even though the air conditioner was on as far as she dared turn it. The shop was still in the red, and she had to be careful.

What a day, and it wasn’t over yet. The morning’s escapade with Janis and Kyle had started her off on the wrong foot. Things had gone from bad to worse. When Janis started unboxing the freight, half of the items shipped turned out to be either wrong or damaged.

She’d been furious and still was. But there wasn’t anything she could do about the problem except reorder, which took time.

Ellen glanced at her watch, noticing that closing time was only thirty minutes away. She had expected to hear from Meg sometime during the day; so far she hadn’t. Apparently Kyle hadn’t told her yet or she would have called demanding Ellen’s side of the story.

Just how serious were Kyle and Janis? But how serious did kids nowadays have to be to make love? God, she hoped Janis wouldn’t turn up pregnant. That thought sent a chill darting through her. At this moment, she didn’t envy her sister having a teenager.

The Lord seemed to have known what he was doing when he hadn’t given her a child.

The buzzer on the door sounded, drawing her attention away from her maudlin thoughts. She smiled at the customer, only to have that smile disappear. Mrs. Cavanaugh. What had she done to deserve this? Ellen asked herself. Especially at the end of a hellish day?

“I’m glad I caught you,” Ruth Cavanaugh said in her haughtiest tone.

“Me, too,” Ellen lied, plastering a fixed smile on her lips.

This tall, horse-faced woman had been her cross to bear from the first day she’d opened the shop. She was one of the richest, but most miserable, women Ellen had ever met.

“This tea set I bought yesterday doesn’t work.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the wrong color.”

Ellen sighed and held on to her temper by a thread. “Would you like to get another one?”

“No. The other colors aren’t right, either. Besides, for what it is, it’s too expensive.”

Bitch. Ellen’s fixed smile broadened. “I’ll be happy to credit your account.”

“I want my money back.”

“That’s not my policy.”

Mrs. Cavanaugh’s watery-blue eyes—a perfect match for her watery-blue hair, Ellen thought cattily—hardened. “Then change your policy.”

“Fine.” Ellen opened the cash drawer and withdrew a hundred dollars in twenties. “Here’s your money.”

“Thank you.” With that, Ruth Cavanaugh turned and marched out the door.

“Damn!” Ellen muttered, feeling her stomach churn.

Coffee, Anyone? couldn’t afford many financial hits like that one and survive. But maybe she’d saved her reputation by returning the money to the cantankerous old biddy.

Deciding her troubles just had to be over for the day, Ellen went into the back room, remembering a gift she hadn’t wrapped. She had just climbed to the top rung of the ladder to get the right box when she heard the buzzer.

Wouldn’t you know it!

If whoever had come in spent money, she wouldn’t mind climbing down. But if the customer only wanted a cup of coffee, she would not be happy. Immediately Ellen chastised herself for that attitude. A two-dollar coffee customer today could return tomorrow and buy a fifty-dollar gift.

That thought sent Ellen scrambling down the steps and into the front room. She’d barely cleared the door when she froze.

“Hi.”

The last person she’d expected to see was Porter Wyman. Nevertheless, all six feet plus of him was leaning against the door, a smile strengthening the grin lines around his mouth and eyes.

Ellen cleared her throat and tried to collect herself. She didn’t remember his being so big or so good-looking. Although he was dressed in worn jeans, a casual shirt and scuffed boots, attire she normally frowned on, she couldn’t find fault with those clothes on him, a fact that didn’t set well with her.

“Hi, yourself,” she finally said, knowing she sounded out of breath. His presence had not only caught her off guard but flustered her, as well. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her with those unusual eyes, deep and mysterious.

“What can I do for you?” She couldn’t imagine what he wanted in a shop like hers.

Porter grinned and pushed himself away from the door. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“You sound surprised,” she responded, stiffening.

He shrugged. “Tell the truth, I didn’t know what to expect. This isn’t my thing, you know.”

No kidding, she wanted to blurt out, but didn’t. Not only would that be rude, but ugly to boot But then, she was in an ugly mood, and his arrival had exacerbated it. Even so, she was curious.

“So how’s business?” he asked in an unhurried drawl, as if time was of no consequence.

“Fine.” The stiffness in her body and voice was more noticeable than ever.

She knew he was aware of her discomfort; his mischievous smile said as much. “I hope I’m not keeping you from closing up.”

“You’re not,” she said meaningfully, with a look at her watch.

“Good. That means you can finish and leave.”

She blinked in confusion.

“I came to take you to dinner.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, taken aback.

“Why not?”

Ellen’s heart was suddenly pounding much too fast. “I just don’t.”

His eyes traveled the length of her body, just as they had the Sunday she met him, which brought another flush to her face. She sensed she was in for a verbal fight. He didn’t seem to be the type who took no for an answer, despite his laid-back demeanor.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay if you don’t want to go to dinner .”

Ellen opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

“Later.” He tipped his Stetson and walked out.


Five

Ellen sipped a glass of iced green tea as she stretched out on the chaise longue on her patio. She shouldn’t have come home so early, but she had felt the need to get away from the shop for more reasons than one.

Thank goodness the days were getting longer, which meant more daylight to enjoy her home and its lovely surroundings. She couldn’t take credit for the tiny, well-manicured yard, with its splattering of different colored annuals and tallow trees, but she could enjoy it.

Not sure she or her business would thrive here, she had put off buying a home. Yet she couldn’t bear the thought of living in an apartment complex, where doors slammed at all hours and the neighbors’ voices carried through the walls.

When a realtor she had contacted found this patio home for rent, she’d snapped it up. She hadn’t been sorry, especially since it was new; she was its first occupant.





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