Carrying the Rancher's Heir (15 page)

He'd practically had that contract wrapped up with a pretty baby-blue ribbon. And they didn't have the balls to call him with their decision. Instead, they sent him an email. “PricePoint is sorry not to be doing business with Worth Enterprises this time around. As a courtesy, a representative from our company will be in touch with you shortly.”

“I won't hold my breath.” But Tagg would. He had to get
to the bottom of this. It had to be Sullivan's doing. Big Hawk Ranch was the only other Arizona company large enough to accommodate such a lucrative contract. Their ranches were almost equal in size, steer for steer and acre for acre.

“Damn you, Sullivan.”

Someone knocked on his door and before Tagg had time to react, the door opened and Clay stepped inside. He took one look at Tagg, removed his tan felt hat and sat down. “Morning, brother. What is it? What's put that piss-poor look on your face?”

Tagg reigned in his anger. He looked at the computer screen one more time then cast his older brother a baffled look. “Big Hawk Ranch beat us out of another deal.”

“That so?”

Tagg rubbed his forehead and let go a heavy sigh. He had to deal with this rationally. “Yeah. What I can't figure is, I'm giving them the best market price I can. Any lower and we'd be losing money. I've worked on this for weeks, had our legal department look it over and flew to Tucson the other day to try to seal the deal.”

“Are you sure it was Sullivan?”

Tagg nodded. “The contracts are supposed to be confidential, but PricePoint execs drop cow-dung-size hints. It's better for them to have their competitors in a price war. So, yeah, I know for a fact it's Sullivan.”

“Not much you can do about it, is there?”

Tagg winced. Sullivan had beaten him twice at his own game and Tagg didn't like losing to Callie's father. He'd simply have to get him next time around. Not that Worth Ranch would go under without these contracts; they had their regulars who were loyal to the Worth name and reputation. It was a matter of pride and bragging rights now.

“How are things going otherwise?” Clay leaned back in the leather seat and crossed his booted ankle over his knee.

Clay was asking about Tagg's marriage in a roundabout way. He didn't usually talk about his private life to anyone, but he'd cut his brother some slack today because he needed the distraction. “Everything's fine. Callie and I are working up a little show for the kids when they arrive. I'll do some roping and riding. She'll show them how a barrel race works.”

Clay's brows lifted. He shot him a curious stare. “So you and her, you're getting along?”

“We just about have to, don't we? We're married.”

“Not all married couples make it,” Clay said casually though it was evident he was talking about his own former marriage to Trish Fontaine. The subject of Trish was taboo and Tagg knew not to go there.

“We're having a baby, remember?” Thinking about the little mound spurting up from Callie's stomach put him in a better mood. “Callie's showing signs now.”

“Really?”

“I'm doing
what?
” Callie stepped into the room holding a tray of freshly baked oatmeal cookies and two tall glasses of lemonade.

“Man, oh, man, those smell delicious. Hi, Callie.” Clay sat up straight in his seat.

“Morning, Clay.”

“She bakes?” Clay looked at Tagg.

“I bake,” she said. “Never had much time before, but I'm enjoying the kitchen a little bit more these days.” She set the tray down on the desk and then glanced at the halfhearted clean up job Tagg had done with the spilled coffee. “What happened in here?”

Tagg shot a warning glance at Clay. He wasn't ready to tell Callie about his latest loss, needing time to sort things
out. Suspicion pushed through his mind about Callie and her father. The minute Tagg went out of town, Callie has visited with The Hawk. She had access to Tagg's accounts, his office and his computer. He didn't want to believe the worst about his wife, but how could he be sure where her true loyalty lay? Tagg had no proof, nothing to go on, so he shelved his suspicions. Though he wanted to trust Callie, he still wasn't there yet. “Had me a little spill, that's all.”

She took a few napkins from the tray and did a better job of cleaning up his mess, never missing a beat. “Help yourself, boys. Whatever you don't eat is going to the crew at Penny's Song.”

Clay grabbed two cookies and the lemonade. Callie handed him a napkin. Tagg took one cookie for himself. Both of them thanked her.

She leaned on the edge of the desk and looked from him to Clay. “So what is Callie doing?” She hadn't forgotten the conversation she'd overheard.

Tagg took a bite of the cookie. “These are good.” He chewed and chewed, keeping his mouth full. Let Clay get out of this one.

Callie lifted her brows, waiting.

Clay cleared his throat. “Tagg was telling me you're starting to show, uh, the baby is, I mean.”

Clay slid a quick glance at her stomach and Callie grinned. “I know. It's a little bump, but it's all baby.”

“I can't see the bump.”

“It's there,” Tagg assured him. “But you don't get a closer look.”

Clay sent him an eye roll.

Callie added, “And, thankfully, the morning sickness is all gone.”

“Well, that's great news.” He finished his cookie and
downed it with a gulp of lemonade. “Because I'm throwing a little party at the end of the week. For the crew and all the volunteers who helped out and especially for my family. It's my way of thanking everyone before our official opening. That's why I'm here. To give you a personal invite.”

“That's a wonderful idea,” Callie said. “Do you need any help with party planning?”

“I might, if you're up to it. Can I get back to you on that?”

“Sure, Clay. Anything you need.” Callie offered him another cookie.

“It's black tie.”

Tagg croaked out, “Black tie?” That physically pained him.

“Yeah, it means putting on your monkey suit.” Clay winked at Callie.

“You'd think Jackson was putting this shindig on.” Tagg scowled at his brother. “Actually, it
was
his idea.”

 

Tagg worked for the next few days putting together another proposal for a big beef conglomerate. He made plans to go to a cattle auction up Flagstaff way in three weeks and he called several of his regular clients. He wasn't used to having to schmooze to stay in business. It wasn't in his nature to make small talk and he was terrible at it. The conversations were stilted and brief and he hated every minute of it.

He set his phone down after his third and final call for the morning and stacked his file folders, making one neat pile. A swatch of fabric caught his eye, peeking out from under a financial report lying on the desk. Tagg moved the other papers away and picked up the soft piece of cotton. He held smiling monkeys, silly elephants and friendly lions in his hand. Stubby green-leafed trees and bamboo shoots filled
the background of the material in soft tones. It looked like a happy scene from a Disney jungle movie. Tagg glanced down and found the paint chip that had been sitting underneath the fabric. He picked it up with his other hand. Green Earth had a sticky note attached on the back in Callie's handwriting and he read it out loud. “Great for a boy, don't you think?”

They were having a boy? Tagg felt a moment of excitement, but then he remembered that it was too soon to tell. Callie had said as much. They had an appointment with the doctor in a few weeks. Tagg still couldn't believe it. He was going to be a father. He'd never thought he'd be given another chance at happiness. He'd never thought he'd grant himself enough inner peace to let someone else get close enough. For years, he didn't think he deserved it. Had Callie changed that? Could it be possible that Hawkins Sullivan's daughter would be the one person who could see him through his grief and guilt?

He glanced at the evidence in his hands. A smile emerged. He wondered what Callie would pick out if they had a baby girl. Flying magical horses in pinks and purples?

He heard the distant sound of Callie's voice from outside and put down the items. He walked over to the side window and peered out. A horse trailer had pulled up and Callie was raising her voice above a palomino's whinnies.

Tagg plopped his hat on his head and marched outside, striding up to the bumper pull trailer, watching from the sidelines. He knew enough to steer clear of a skittish horse. Callie on the other hand, put herself right in the mix. “You need some help?”

She cast him a sideways glance and shook her head. “No. Freedom doesn't like the trailer is all. She's a bit high-strung.” The golden horse backed out with Callie's soft urging. “Come on, girl. This is your new home now. Yeah, that's it. I sure did miss you.”

Callie held a rope and eased the palomino out of the double hitch trailer. Once she was free of the drop down, Tagg glanced inside. “She did her best to destroy the kick walls.”

“She does that.” Callie held her rope tight and stroked the palomino's face. The horse lifted her head in rebellion. “It's all right, Free. Calm it down a little. No more bumper pulls for you.”

“Does your father know you took her?”

She grinned. “Not yet. I made sure he wasn't home when I got her. I'll call and let him know later on.”

“She's a beauty.”

Callie smiled. “Thank you.”

“I forgot she was coming today.”

“I mentioned it last night.”

Tagg vaguely remembered. He closed the gap between them and stroked the mare's mane carefully. He spoke into her ear. “You expect me to remember anything after last night? You drove every brain cell outta my head. I barely know my own name.”

Callie shot a quick glance at the driver, who'd walked away to check the truck's engine. She sent her voice into a whisper. “Are you complaining?”

She knew he wasn't. Sex with Callie just kept getting better and better. “I'm no fool. I know a good thing when I see it.”

She took her eyes off Freedom to take a leisurely tour of his body. She liked him in jeans and boots and made no bones about it. Her brow arched up in approval and she sent him a wicked look that shot straight to his groin. “So do I,” she said quietly.

He could lead her back into the bedroom and…

“I'm taking Free out today,” she announced, changing the
direction his mind had taken. “Let her see your land. Get used the scent of the other horses.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“She's not going to like sharing the paddock with your mares. She's pretty feisty.”

“I can see that.”

“But underneath it all, she's a sweetheart.”

Tagg wondered if the same were true of her. “When are you going for that ride?”

“After lunch.”

“You want some company?”

Callie stared at him. “You want to ride out together?” A familiar look of yearning crossed her features.

He nodded. “Sure, why not?”

He knew why Callie seemed surprised. He'd never invited her before, even though he'd seen longing in her eyes and her plea for acceptance on his ranch. He'd kept his afternoon rides private so he could be alone with his own thoughts. But it was also a way to drive some distance between them. To keep her from getting too close and maybe to punish her for her past mistakes. He hated to admit that, but it was solid truth. He'd had to marry her and accept her into his home because of the baby. He'd also had to tolerate her ruthless, immoral father.

“Because you've never asked me before. Why now?”

He stared at the little bulge at her waistband and felt a sense of pride, but also a fierce sense of protectiveness. Callie was an expert horsewoman, but her mare was jittery. After seeing those knocked-in kick walls, Tagg didn't want Callie riding out on his land alone with her horse. He worried over his baby's safety, that was a given. But it surprised him how much of his concern was aimed at his new wife.

He shrugged. “It'd be best if I went with you, is all.”

“You're on, cowboy.” Callie opened her mouth to say something else but seemed to change her mind.

And the she sent him a big, beautiful smile that spread warmth through his cold and distant heart.

“Y
our wife cleans up nicely,” Jackson said, sipping wine from a cut crystal glass. He gestured to Callie, who was speaking with two crewman from Penny's Song under a tree wrapped with hundreds of twinkle lights on Clay's veranda.

Tagg glared at his brother.

“What? Just stating the obvious.”

“Keep your eyes in your head.”

Jackson smiled wide before taking another sip of thirty-dollar-a-glass Pinot Noir. “Just appreciating the best-looking woman in the place.”

Tagg had to agree. He couldn't take his eyes off her, even though he'd seen her in the most intimate settings, touched every part of her body countless times and made her moan his name until the breath stole out of her lungs. Tagg still couldn't look away.

She wore her dark hair in an intricate pile atop her head with a few well-placed strands curling along her crown
and down around her neck. Rhinestones gathered her deep crimson gown just under her breasts and flowed in soft pleats all the way down to her sandal-clad ankles. Her eyes were liquid caramel tonight under those sparking lights, her skin, the smoothest cream. When Tagg first laid eyes on her as she came gliding out of his bedroom dressed to kill, he'd dropped the magazine he'd been reading in the parlor. He'd never seen Callie look more beautiful. If he'd compared her to a Grecian goddess, the goddess would lose out every time.

Clay walked up and stood beside them. He followed the line of their attention. “She looks happy tonight, Tagg.”

“For the moment,” Jackson added.

Tagg blinked and sucked in a breath. His brothers wouldn't let up. Since they found out about the baby, they'd been painting a rosy picture about his marriage. Tagg resented it. He needed more time. The feelings he had for Callie scared the living hell out of him. He had niggling doubts that held him back. He wasn't all-in yet and he didn't know if he ever would be. “Why wouldn't she be happy?”

Clay scratched his head. Jackson polished off his wine. They both stared at Tagg with raised eyebrows.

He grabbed a wine goblet from a passing waiter and downed it in one long gulp. He knew why Callie wasn't happy with him, but how did Jackson know? Had Callie said something or was his brother just being a pain?

Their one and only horseback ride hadn't gone well. Freedom had been jumpy and Tagg had raised his voice several times at Callie. They'd argued about horse tactics and command and Callie ended up riding off in a different direction. Tagg had only been worried about her safety. And the baby's. Still, things had been tense between them since that ride.

Clay was speaking, and his voice pulled Tagg back into
the conversation. “You got yourself a good wife. Don't blow it.” Clay, usually the diplomat, shot him a cautionary look.

Crap, had Callie said something to both of them?

“You know, you're not all that,” Jackson, his smart-ass brother added.

“I never claimed to be.” He tightened his grip on the empty wine glass and cursed under his breath more from watching one of those workmen take Callie onto the dance floor than from his brothers' lame attempts to make him feel guilty. The minute the guy pulled her up close, Tagg's gut clenched.

“You're a little green, Tagg. Maybe it was the shrimp.”

Jackson was getting on his nerves.

“No comment?”

He shrugged it off. He wasn't going to let his brother get the best of him.

“Maybe you should dance with your wife. Or maybe I will.” Jackson made a move toward the imported parquet dance floor on the deck. Tagg blocked his passage with an iron arm. “Don't be an ass.”

Jackson's usual smirk disappeared. His eyes darkened with concern. “I'm trying to keep you from being one. You're either stupid or scared. I know our gene pool. You're not stupid, Tagg. You're gonna lose her if you don't lighten up.”

Tagg shot him a look. “What did she tell you?”

“Is there something to tell?” Jackson asked. “If there is, maybe you should be talking it over with her.”

Neither Jackson nor Clay knew about his relationship with Callie. He couldn't explain it to them because, one, it was none of their business and, two, he couldn't really define it himself.

When the three-piece orchestra took a break, Clay took center stage. He'd outdone himself with this party. Not only had he invited family, workmen and volunteers, he'd invited
the mayor and sheriff of Red Ridge, members of the city council and other townsfolk. Tagg's brother had been a star once, so he knew how to command an audience. But this event tonight wasn't about him or his onetime celebrity status, it was about giving thanks to the many who'd contributed their time and energy to the project.

Clay called the rest of the Worth family up to the stage to join him, where a crowd had gathered.

Tagg searched the area for Callie. He saw her slip into the background, standing behind one of those twinkle trees, sipping sparkling cider. He strode over to her. “Callie?” He offered her his hand. “You coming?”

Her gaze fell on his open palm, and she hesitated.

“We're being summoned.”

“Tagg,” he heard Clay say over the mike. “Get your pretty wife and come up here. Can't start without the two of you.”

She darted a glimpse at Clay waiting for them, then with a tiny sigh, she nodded. She slipped her hand in Tagg's and he gripped her tight. He led her to the steps to stand beside Jackson, who grinned at her like a fool, and Clay, who gave them both a nod before he began his speech.

Tagg held her hand as Clay spoke to the group, giving thanks to everyone who'd taken Penny's Song to heart and singling out people who'd helped along the way. Clay had given him and Jackson credit for their part in the project, when, in fact, his two brothers had put the facility together without much help from him. Clay took a moment to welcome Callie officially to the family and commend her hard work and generosity, giving Callie a kiss on the cheek, which garnered a round of applause.

Callie found it necessary to let go of Tagg's hand when the speech was over to applaud along with the group.

“You haven't danced with me once,” he said finally, after
leading her back to the cottonwood tree. His words came out sharper than he intended. He'd meant to sound nonchalant.

She faced him, finally meeting his eyes. “You haven't asked me.”

He curled a strand of silken hair around his finger, his gaze lingering. “You've been busy.”

“Clay asked me to be his hostess.”

“Clay should get his own wife.”

A tiny chuckle escaped her throat. “You're not jealous.”

It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. Callie didn't know how jealous he was of every man who'd danced with her, every man who'd paid her attention, every man who'd been granted her smile tonight.

He brought her up close, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight, his mouth just a breath away from hers. She smelled exotic, a rich blend of sexy and citrus. He inhaled deeper and his groin tightened. He'd gone without Callie too long. He wanted her. He wouldn't let her freeze him out. Her eyes sparked with defiance, but they held excitement as well. She'd never been able to resist him. He found that trait endearing. She wasn't all that angry with him anymore. “I'm jealous,” he admitted.

Callie closed her eyes. “Tagg. This isn't a game.”

He brushed a tender kiss to her lips. “I never thought so, Callie. Not for a minute.”

 

Callie wasn't a quitter. As a child she'd never given up when she wanted something bad enough. Not the spelling bee championship when she was nine, not the Junior Miss Equestrian Pageant when she was fourteen and not the children who'd seemed lost and hopeless when she'd worked at the With Care Foundation in Boston. She'd stood up to her formidable father time after time and held her head high,
making something of her life that she could be proud of, despite her DNA.

And she wasn't quitting on Tagg now. She'd just needed a breather…

The old cottonwood tree held her upright as she watched her husband speaking with the mayor. Jackson had pulled him into the conversation and she could tell he wasn't thrilled to be there. Their eyes met from across the yard several times as he tried to focus on what Mayor Fielding was saying.

Tagg was deadly handsome in his Western tux, with dark strands of hair brushing the collar of his black jacket. His skin was bronzed from hours under the Arizona sun. She loved the way he moved, the confident strut of a man comfortable in his own skin. She loved the deep husky tone of his voice. There wasn't much she didn't love about Taggart Worth. Except the way he held her at arm's length. No, she didn't love that at all. He gave her just enough to make her wish for it all.

It had been exhausting trying to be a good wife when he gave little back in return. She was like a fountain that kept pouring out without any source of replenishment. His subtle and not so subtle emotional jabs were getting to her. She was made of thicker skin, she knew. She was, after all, a Sullivan by birth. But her changing hormones got in the way and made her feel weepy and filled with self-doubt. She'd had bouts of tears these past few days that she couldn't talk herself out of or seem to control.

It all had to do with Tagg.

There were times during the week when she thought marrying him had been a mistake. That maybe loving him wasn't enough. Sometimes, he'd open up to her, giving her a teensy inkling of hope, then he'd say something to wipe it all away. She felt like a nail being pounded further and further down. And her only recourse had been to sink inside herself, like a
turtle hiding out in his shell. She'd needed the protection and the solace.

But she wasn't completely down-and-out and she wouldn't give up. Which probably made her a bigger fool than he was.

When the orchestra started playing again, Tagg begged off with Jackson and the mayor. He headed her way and her silly heart pounded in her chest. Once he reached her, he smiled and it was a killer. “Dance with me?”

“You just want a rescue from the mayor's rambling.”

“I want to dance with the most beautiful woman here. And,” he said with a wide grin, “you'd be saving me from the mayor's
incessant
rambling.”

She gave him her hand. “In that case, consider yourself saved.”

Her cold shoulder had melted the second he took her into his arms. Her breather was over. She'd missed Tagg.

They stepped to soft mellow music on the grass away from the dance floor, just the two of them with no crowds and no one looking on. It's how Tagg liked to operate. It was his MO. He was a loner and she had barged into his life, turning it upside down.

“I can't wait for this bash to be over.” He nuzzled her throat.

Callie weaved both her hands through the bottom layers of his hair. It went thick and silky through her fingers. “People are starting to leave already.”

“That's a good sign.”

He touched his cheek to hers and brought her tight up against him, her breasts to his chest. They meshed like two parts of a puzzle. Everything below his waist was stiff and hard. Oh, how she'd missed him.

“I'm feeling tired,” she said.

He pulled back, his eyes narrowing to slits. “For real?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “I could play the pregnant card to get us out of here.”

“The way you've been playing it all week with me?”

“You deserved it.”

Tagg heaved a sigh. “Maybe. But you're not getting away with that tonight.”

He brought his lips down to hers and kissed her with enough tenderness to dissolve any remaining doubts she held inside. “This dress is coming off you by my hands tonight.”

Callie tingled from head to toe. She couldn't wait. Her bones ached for him and other parts of her anatomy throbbed. “I'm feeling suddenly faint, Tagg.”

“Then let's get the hell outta here.”

He took her hand and led her to the car. He didn't give her a chance to say goodbye to his brothers. But Clay had seen them leave and so had Jackson, both of them watching with knowing looks on their faces as Tagg hightailed it out of the house.

 

“I'll buy you another dress, honey.”

Tagg had been a little too eager to get her naked. He'd ripped the delicate fabric on her shoulder trying to shove it down her arms. The sound of tearing material only added to the thrill of making love with him again. The days apart, sleeping next to him and not allowing herself to touch him or be intimate with him had worn on her just as much as it had on him. The one thing that they had together, the one thing that never ceased to be fantastic, night or day, was making love.

Tagg never disappointed. He was a man who did things until they got done right. And he'd done it right twice tonight. She lay quiet and peaceful in the aftermath of their love-
making. The intoxicating scents of man and sex filled her senses. She rested her head under Tagg's shoulder and ran her hands through the scattered hairs on his chest. An overhead fan circulated the warm pre-summer air, cooling the beads of sweat from their skin. Tagg tangled his fingers in her hair and absently stroked through the strands, his once heavy breaths slowing to a steady rumbling.

This was the time Callie liked best. The time when she felt like nothing in the world could separate them. The time when, after a satisfying night together, sharing bodies and souls, Callie found the most hope.

Tagg rolled her onto her back gently and came up over her. She looked into his eyes. They were so clear, so astonishingly blue-gray, a color unique to him. When she thought he'd kiss her again, he surprised her by touching a hand to her belly, just over the bulge that they'd both created. His fingertips swirled circles around and around her navel ever so tenderly, his eyes raking in her bare body but coming back to land on her stomach. “Do you think it's a boy or girl?”