Claiming The Cowgirl's Baby. Silver James. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Silver James
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Desire
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474061230
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fence watching the rodeo team work. She wasn’t too proud to admit fantasizing about the tall cowboy in the faded jeans with work-roughened hands, and some of those fantasies had gone straight to all things sexy. Because Kade starred in every erotic dream she’d ever had.

      The prescription medication she’d taken for the migraine was finally having an effect and she could unsquint her eyes. She wasn’t ready to remove the pillow yet, afraid her room would be too bright to bear. The migraines had begun to manifest more frequently, a worry that nagged at the back of her mind. She didn’t have time to be incapacitated. She had grant proposals to write, stable and arena space to rent, horses to buy. Camp Courage was so close to becoming a reality.

      Eyes scrunched closed, she lifted the edge of the pillow and peeked. When no blinding pain lanced through her head, she opened both eyes. The medications had fully kicked in. She still had tunnel vision but managed to focus on the clock next to the bed. She had time to make her lunch with Kade—if she hurried.

      After showering and getting dressed, she was ready to head out when her mother met her at the front door. Pippa had been so close to escaping, but she knew she was stuck. She plastered a smile on her face. “What brings you out here, Mother?”

      “I thought we might have lunch together, discuss your current activities.”

      “Sorry. I have a lunch date.”

      Her mother perked up. “Someone I know?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing those awful jeans and boots?”

      “They’re comfortable, and no, you probably don’t know him. I’m meeting Kaden Waite, the Barrons’ ranch manager. He’s consulting on my foundation.”

      Millicent Duncan shook her index finger in Pippa’s face. “I don’t understand you at all. There are days I can’t believe you are my daughter.” Her mother closed her eyes in an obvious effort to control her temper. The bitter edge had smoothed from her voice when she continued. “I wanted to send you to ballet school. You wanted riding lessons. You have always had this obsession with horses. And helping unfortunate people.”

      Fighting her own temper, Pippa made her face blank. This was not a new argument. “It’s my money, Mother.”

      “No. Technically, it was your grandmother Ruth’s. Your father and I both tried to dissuade her from setting up that trust fund. We knew you would just fritter it away on—”

      “Enough.” She cut her mother off as lights started flickering in her peripheral vision again. Pippa needed to get away before the migraine precursors bloomed into crashing pain and roiling nausea. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temple in an unconscious motion.

      “That man is not someone you should be seeing, Pippa.” Millicent’s voice grated on her nerves as the headache gained strength. “You need to stop all this nonsense.”

      “It’s not nonsense, Mother. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to be late.” Pippa slipped past her mother, shutting the door to the guesthouse behind her.

      * * *

      Pippa still managed to arrive a few minutes early. The patio of Cadie B’s Southern Kitchen was one of her favorite spots—especially in late spring. Overlooking the Bricktown Canal, the restaurant catered to locals and tourists alike with a menu of southern cooking favorites. Her usual table hugged the outer railing but today, she opted for one closer to the brick warehouse building that housed the restaurant. The secluded table she chose was squarely in the shade and would remain so during lunch. She kept on her sunglasses just to be on the safe side. The perky waitress set a sweating glass of sweet tea in front of Pippa and she settled in to wait.

      Thirty minutes later, she checked her watch, then her smartphone. Kade was officially late and he hadn’t called or texted. Which was unusual. The guy really was a gentleman. She called him and when her call rolled to voice mail, she left a rushed message.

      “Hey, Kaden. I’m at Cadie B’s. Did I mess up and get the day or time wrong? Give me a call, please. Talk to you soon.”

      She wouldn’t panic. But she reflected on her mother’s pursed lips and condescension when Pippa mentioned she was meeting Kade. Even though she’d assured her mother this was a working lunch, Millicent Duncan seemed to have the idea that Pippa was dating him. Ha. She wished.

      After no return call and repeated texts to Kade, three refills of tea and a waitress morphing from perky to pitying, Pippa lost her own easygoing demeanor. Her thumbs flew over the virtual keyboard on her phone as she typed an angry message.

      CALLED YOU AND TEXTED. NO REPLY. IF STANDING ME UP IS YOUR WAY OF BLOWING ME OFF, YOU SUCK!

      * * *

      Kade’s phone blew up with calls and texts starting about ten minutes after he walked out of Barron Tower. Numb, he’d climbed into his truck and started driving. Now he was northbound on I-35 headed home. Only it wasn’t his home. Not any longer. A highway exit loomed and he jerked the steering wheel, taking the ramp at twice the posted speed. He didn’t care.

      Turning into the parking lot of a truck stop, he parked in the farthest corner. Stiff-armed, fingers bloodless as he gripped the steering wheel, he pressed back against the seat.

      “Shut up!” he yelled at the cell phone. He wanted to turn it off. He wanted to slam it against the concrete and drive over it with his pickup. He wanted his life back. The damn phone pinged again. Another text. Wait...from Pippa?

      Breathing like he’d just run a forty-yard dash, he opened her text. Standing her up? Blowing her off? He clicked over to voice mail. He had multiple missed calls from...what did he call them now? The Barrons. He’d refer to them as he always had. He couldn’t wrap his head around what else they were at this point in time. Kade listened to Pippa’s voice mail and winced. He’d blanked out about meeting her for lunch. Completely.

      He hated texting. His thumbs were broad, unwieldy when it came to hitting the virtual letters but he didn’t trust his voice. Thank goodness for autocorrect.

      I totally messed up. Bad morning. I’m sorry. Really really sorry.

      The big diesel engine of his truck rumbled as he stared out the windshield trying to marshal his emotions. Kade ignored the phone when it rang. It stopped after three rings. His text program dinged almost immediately, and he glanced at the message.

      Will you please answer the phone so we can talk? What happened? I’d like to help if I can.

      Pippa couldn’t. How could anyone? He slammed his fists against the steering wheel. His mother had known. The whole damn time. She’d known who his father was. Had known the people he worked for were his half brothers. The sense of betrayal clawed at him, gnawed on his bones with teeth-jarring viciousness.

      His phone rang again. He stared at the caller ID. Pippa. Accepting the call, he didn’t say anything. Had nothing to say.

      “Kade? Are you there?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “What happened? I know you were supposed to meet with Chance this morning.” Her voice trailed off but he remained silent. With a quick intake of breath, she gasped out, “Oh, no! Did he fire you? That’s... They... That’s despicable. After everything you’ve done at the ranch, after all the improvements, after...after...” She stopped and inhaled. “I’m so sorry, Kade. I can try to talk to them.”

      And she could talk to them. She was part of their social class. He knew she’d gone to school with the twins, Chase and Cash. Grew up knowing all of the brothers. His brothers. Half brothers, he amended. And wasn’t that a kick in the ass. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest.

      Feeling exhausted, he huffed out a breath. He didn’t need Pippa to fight his battles. He didn’t need or want anyone involved in this very personal decision. He hadn’t been fired, not outright. In fact, the Crown B could be his, lock, stock and barrel. “You don’t understand, Pippa. It’s not really like that. This is something—”

      He stopped speaking. This really wasn’t something he wanted to