Have Cowboy, Need Cupid (18 page)

The waterfall crashed against the icy rocks, splashing and rippling with a gusto that mocked his own bad mood. He could see Suzanne standing beneath the water, her dark hair cascading down past her shoulders, her head thrown back in the throes of laughter and passion. He itched to reach out, to touch her again, to make the moment real. To have her in his arms one more time.

But he would go home alone tonight. And every night after.

For the first time in his life he wanted something more than his land. More than the ranch and raising cattle and breaking horses.

He wanted Suzanne. In spite of what she’d done to him, he still wanted her. And not just in his bed, though he craved that with every ounce of his being.

No, this was much worse. He wanted her as his wife.

Chapter Seventeen

Suzanne had spent a long, sleepless night thinking about Rafe and wishing things had turned out differently. Now she’d joined her cousins and Rebecca for their weekly night out, but her heart wasn’t in it. She would never be happily married like them.

Because her heart belonged to a man who didn’t love her.

“What’s up?” Mimi gestured toward Alison’s plate. “You’re not eating very much.”

Alison grinned sheepishly. “Well, I was going to wait until Brady and I were together to tell you but—”

“You’re pregnant!” Mimi shouted.

Rebecca suddenly started coughing as if she were choking on her water, and all eyes turned toward her.

“Oh, my goodness, so are you,” Suzanne said. “Aren’t you, Bec?”

Rebecca nodded. “I…I just took a test this morning.”

Chaos erupted with all the girls crying and shouting and hugging at once.

“This is unbelievable,” Hannah said, covering her full stomach with her hand. “Maggie Rose is going to have a new cousin anyday now. And the two of you are right behind.”

Tears stung Suzanne’s eyes. “It’s wonderful. I’m so happy for all of you.”

A quiet rippled through them.

“I really am,” Suzanne said, realizing she sounded emotional and hating it. Maybe the old Suzanne was better, the heartless businesswoman who wanted or needed no one.

The girl she’d been before meeting Rafe and falling in love.

Rebecca squeezed her arm. “Things aren’t working out for you and Rafe?”

Suzanne shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about him.” She fidgeted with her napkin, pasting on a smile. “And I certainly don’t want to put a damper on all this exciting news. How are you two feeling?” She clasped Rebecca’s hand and glanced at Alison.

“I’m great,” Alison said. “Just a little queasy in the morning.”

“Me, too. But as long as I eat every two hours, I’m fine,” Rebecca said. “I’ll probably gain a million pounds.”

The girls laughed. “We’ll keep a watch on it,” Hannah assured her.

“Just think, Hannah can deliver all the Hartwell babies,” Alison said. “It’s so nice having a doctor in the family.”

“Yes, we admire you,” Suzanne said.

“Me? Hey, you’re the genius,” Hannah said. “Finding a way to satisfy everyone in town and help the community took talent.”

“We were all impressed,” Alison added.

Mimi sipped her lemonade. “Everyone in town is talking about how smart you are. They can’t wait to get started on the flea market idea.”

“I’m glad,” Suzanne said. “I’m sure there are a lot of creative people here in Sugar Hill.”

“Don’t you know it.” Mimi beamed. “Mr. Zimmerman is a glass blower, three of the ladies from church have already organized the quilting circle, Roger Gunthrie has metal-art projects coming out of his ears and Paula Putts wants to start a consignment shop.”

“That should go over really well,” Rebecca said.

“And you’re going to show your paintings, aren’t you?” Alison asked Rebecca.

Rebecca blushed. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Of course you are,” Hannah said. “After the murals you painted for the clinic, the committee for the flea market will probably want you to decorate their booths.”

The girls gushed over ideas for several minutes, everything ranging from historic scenes of the towns and mountains beyond to bright borders of teddy bears for a children’s clothing booth to a ranch scene for the Western wear Waldo Turner wanted to sell.

Boots and hats—Suzanne couldn’t help but think of Rafe and his ranch, how sexy he looked in that Stetson. How she’d like to make love to him again wearing nothing but that Stetson.

How she would never have a little baby for Hannah to deliver because the only man’s baby she wanted was Rafe’s.

“Earth to Suzanne,” Mimi said, waving her hands. “You zoned out on us.”

“I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, but please tell us what’s going on with Rafe,” Alison said softly.

“It might help to talk about it,” Rebecca said sympathetically.

“Did you try the belly dancing?” Mimi asked.

Suzanne shook her head and frowned into her coffee, her appetite nonexistent. “He found out that I worked for James and he despises me. It was awful,” she admitted. “Then James came in and announced he was my fiancé.”

“But he’s not, is he?” Rebecca asked in horror.

“No, I broke that off later. But not until the morning after Dad’s heart attack. I was going to call James the night before, then we had to go to the hospital and…it just all happened so fast.”

Rebecca patted her hand. “Well, we’ll think of something.”

“Go talk to him,” Alison said.

Hannah rubbed her back. “Yeah, if he’s the one, don’t let him get away.”

“Do whatever it takes,” Mimi said. “Even if you have to seduce the heck out of him.”

Suzanne studied her cousins’ and sister’s faces. They were right. If this had been a business deal, she wouldn’t accept defeat so easily. She’d be prepared to go to war to win. Getting the man of her dreams would be no different.

“All right. I will.”

“You’ll seduce him?” Mimi asked.

Suzanne grinned and waved the waitress over to order some nonalcoholic champagne to celebrate the pregnancies, and two glasses of real wine for her and Mimi. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” After all, she already had the cowboy bridal hat, choker and boots.

Now all she needed was for Cupid to perform a miracle, and she would be wearing them at her own wedding.

R
AFE COULDN’T BELIEVE
his mother and Bud were already planning their wedding.

Their excitement filled the once-quiet house, while he had to force himself not to be an ogre because he wanted to be in the groom’s shoes. For once. He couldn’t figure out why. He had never wanted marriage or a family before—not until Suzanne.

Which only proved how well Suzanne’s trap had worked and what a fool he had been to fall for her. But he would disentangle himself, he had to.

Time would help, he promised himself. One day at a time and the memories would slip away until they would be nothing more than a distant dot of nothingness in his brain.

At least, he hoped that was what happened.

Unfortunately, so far the ache in his chest just seemed to feel worse and worse.

As soon as he entered the house, he heard his mother humming some sappy song about love being in the air. She had discarded the walker a week ago, too, and had a little bounce to her step.

Just as he’d finished washing off the worst of the dust from his hands and face, a knock sounded at the door. He hesitated, wondering who had decided to pay them a visit. Maybe one of his mother’s friends, who’d dropped by to help her plan the wedding.

Feeling surly, he strode to the door, surprised to find Suzanne’s father, Bert, standing on the other side of the screen. “Dr. Hartwell?”

“Yes. Can I come in?”

Rafe finished drying his hands on the hand towel and opened the door. “Certainly, sir. Rafe McAllister.” He extended his hand, wondering what the hell the man had in mind. Did he know Rafe had slept with his daughter? Was something wrong with Suzanne? His heart pounded. “How are you feeling?”

“Nice to meet you, McAllister.” He patted his chest self-consciously. “And the ticker’s just fine. My daughter’s told me a lot about you.” He shifted, his gaze taking in Rafe’s humble house. “Er, I mean about your ranch.”

Rafe nodded. So, had she sent her father here in another attempt to get him to sell? “I thought Horton Developers had decided they didn’t want my land?”

Hartwell wrinkled his forehead in a frown. “That’s correct.”

“Then I don’t understand why you’re here, sir.”

Another, deeper frown. “I…thought we should talk.” He gestured toward the den. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

“Sure.” Rafe was truly puzzled, but he hadn’t meant to be rude. “Come on in.” He led the way to the den, forcing himself not to apologize for the old-fashioned couch and furnishings. His mother liked antiques, didn’t have the money for fancy stuff like this man was probably used to.

Another reminder he and Suzanne had been wrong for each other.

Suzanne’s father took a seat in the wing chair and stretched out his legs, then propped his elbows on his knees and steepled his hands. “I came to offer you a business deal.”

Rafe simply stared at him, perplexed. “What kind of business deal?”

“Actually, I understand your ranch needs some extra funding and I’m proposing a loan of sorts.”

Red-hot humiliation flooded Rafe. Had Suzanne shared his financial situation with her father?

“I don’t follow,” he said. “Why would you do that?”

Hartwell shrugged. “My daughter seems to think you’re worth it.”

Rafe clamped his hands by his side to control his temper. “She asked you to come here and offer me money?”

“No, she has no idea I’m here. But I understand you have a lot of land, a decent herd from what I’ve been told, and I’m always looking to invest.”

“Exactly what would you get in exchange for this loan?” He wasn’t trying to buy him, was he?

“Like I said, it would be an investment. We can work out the terms for repayment. With interest, of course.”

Rafe had heard enough. He stood, signifying the meeting was over. “I appreciate your offer, Dr. Hartwell, but I can’t accept it.” He was amazed at how calm his voice sounded when he was seething inside like a volcano about to blow.

“Don’t be a fool, son. You need the money.”

“Actually, I don’t need it right now, sir. But like I said, thanks for your charitable offer.”

Hartwell winced at the emphasis he’d placed on the word
charitable,
and Rafe knew he’d gotten the message. But the man’s offer planted another seed of wonder in Rafe’s mind.

The anonymous donor, the person who’d paid his debt—he’d thought it had to be his mother, that maybe she’d had some money in savings, or that Wallace had decided to cut him a break. But now he had a feeling he’d been wrong. He knew who had paid his debts. He refused to sit back and let it stand.

He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to see Suzanne again, but now he would have to.

And he’d tell her to take her money and get the hell out of his life.

S
UZANNE HAD TRIED
to make the chocolate cake again, but this time it looked more like a crater than a cake, so she ditched it and stopped by Mimi’s coffee shop once again. Armed with the dessert and a book of new crocheting patterns she had found in Rebecca’s bookstore, she sped toward the Lazy M, hoping her peace offerings would at least get her through the front door.

She had to force Rafe to listen to her, make him understand how much she cared for him.

Starting with his mother might be a cheap shot, but she really loved the older woman and missed her, and she
was
desperate.

Dusk painted the ranch with its heavenly glow, the blue sky above a menagerie of orange and gold and red. She remembered riding across the land with Rafe and seeing the beautiful mountains, the waterfall, the pride in his smile as he showed her his spread, and her heart squeezed.

Parking in front of the farmhouse, she gathered the cake and book, struggling not to fall as her foot skidded on the loose gravel. She should have worn flats, but she’d taken Mimi’s advice and worn the short black skirt, scooped blue top and heels to showcase her body. Shameless but effective, Mimi had said. Suzanne hoped she was right.

Juggling the cake and book into one hand, she knocked, her breath rasping with nerves. Seconds later the door swung open and Mrs. McAllister greeted her with a hug. “It’s so nice to see you, darlin’, come on in.”

Suzanne smiled, the woman’s warm loving embrace acting like a balm to her aching heart. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a mother until she’d befriended the elderly woman.

“You look great,” Suzanne said, noticing the absence of the walker and the color in Mrs. McAllister’s cheeks.

“I feel great,” Rafe’s mother said. “Guess what, dear? I’m getting married.”

“Married?”

“Yes!” Mrs. McAllister ushered her in. “Come on in, and I’ll tell you all about it.” She spied the gifts in Suzanne’s arms. “Aren’t you sweet? I’ll get Maria to make us some coffee and I’ll fill you in on the wedding plans.”

Suzanne laughed at her exuberance and followed her to the den. A few minutes later they shared the cake and coffee while Mrs. McAllister ranted about her newfound love with Bud.

“I’m so happy for you,” Suzanne said.

“And I’m happy for you. I hear you’re going to oversee the new development. I’m very proud of you, Suzanne.”

Pride and happiness swelled inside her chest, along with guilt. She had to tell this sweet woman the truth. So she spilled the beans, everything from how she’d come here to meet Rafe and had deceived him, to how she had changed her mind once she’d spent time on the ranch.

“Well, dear, no wonder my son has been acting so ornery lately.”

“I…don’t blame him for despising me,” Suzanne said. “But I want to apologize and talk to him—”

“What are you doing here?” Rafe’s husky voice cut into the room like thunder.

Suzanne jumped, nearly knocking her coffee cup off the table. Rafe’s mother twisted toward him with a chastising, motherly look.

“She’s visiting me,” Mrs. McAllister said. “And we’ve had a lovely chat. You should hear her out, too.”

Rafe scowled at her. “I’m not interested in anything she has to say. In fact, I just came from your apartment.” He glared at Suzanne. “I wanted to give you back this.” He dropped a check in her lap, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I don’t accept charity.”

“What are you talking about, son?”

“The anonymous donor who paid off my loan. I thought for sure it was you or Wallace or even Landon, that he would call in his marker sometime, but it seems Ms. Hartwell did. Trying to buy your way back into our lives, Suzanne?”

The air left Suzanne’s lungs in a painful rush as if someone had kicked her in the chest. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her hands began to shake. But beneath the pain her temper surfaced.

“Rafe McAllister, how dare you talk to our guest like that!” Mrs. McAllister stood, her eyes dark with displeasure.