The Cowboy And The Debutante (10 page)

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Authors: Stella Bagwell

BOOK: The Cowboy And The Debutante
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“I've not been in a sour mood, Anna.”
She glanced at his hard profile and was suddenly struck by how much pleasure it gave her to look at him, be with him. “So in other words you just haven't wanted to be around me.”
He sighed. “I didn't say that. But now that you have, I think we should be honest with each other. Just as you said a few moments ago.”
She continued to look at him as she waited for him to go on. He felt her gaze boring into the side of his face and was finally compelled to glance at her.
“We shouldn't be together,” he said with a grimace. “We bring out the worst in each other.”
Funny he should say that, Anna thought. The few moments she'd spent in his arms had been the very best of her life.
“I wonder why that is?” she pondered quietly.
He shrugged. “Because we're like fire and ice. One is bound to destroy the other.”
Anna's birth mother had destroyed nearly everything she touched. She'd had her chances at love and happiness but one by one she'd made a mess of them and subsequently her life. Anna was beginning to fear she was headed down the same destructive path. Especially when she looked at Miguel and wished for what could never be.
“Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic?” she asked him. “We've had our differences, but we've gotten past them.”
“It's the way we get past them that worries me, Anna.”
She moved around in her seat. “I don't know why it should worry you. It's not like Daddy is going to come home and force you into a shotgun wedding just because you kissed me.”
His nostrils flared at her glib remark. “Maybe a few kisses don't mean anything to you. But to a man it's a green light. Pure and simple.”
The more he said, the worse she hurt. Deep inside she wanted to believe something other than lust or anger had driven him to take her into his arms and taste her lips.
She sighed wearily. “Even though I've never slept with a man, I'm not ignorant of men or their behavior, Miguel. Six weeks ago I was planning to marry one.”
His head jerked around in surprise. “You were engaged?”
She nodded while wondering why she'd let the admission slip past her lips. She hadn't been planning on telling Miguel about her broken engagement. What woman in their right mind wanted anyone to know she'd been cheated on?
“And making wedding plans,” she answered grimly.
“What happened? You decided he wouldn't fit in with your career?”
“Not with another woman hanging on to his shirtsleeve. Three is usually a crowd. Especially in a marriage.”
He glanced at her sharply. “You're saying he was untrue?”
Her lips spread to a thin, mocking line. Thank God Scott's betrayal no longer hurt her, but it had taught her a hard lesson about men and fidelity. She'd have to be crazy or crazy in love to trust another one.
Refusing to be embarrassed, she lifted her chin. “When you walk in and see your betrothed in bed with another woman, the word for it isn't
untrue
. It's—” she broke off and waved her hand in a dismissive way “—it's bad. But it's survivable. I'm proof of that.”
Miguel could not imagine such a thing happening to Anna. She was a beautiful woman, and even though she was oftentimes remote and cool, he could see flashes of her passion trying to escape. How could any man ever look away from her and to another? She could give a man more than he could ever dream of. But passion wasn't everything, he quickly reminded himself. Charlene had certainly taught him that much.
“So unlike you, your fiancé wasn't choosy about his bed partner, so you've come back to the Bar M to mend a broken heart,” he mused aloud.
Miguel should have known it was something like that and not just a vacation from her work. No wonder she'd kissed him with such abandon. She was probably on a giant rebound, looking for any man to soothe her feminine pride, and for some reason she'd picked him.
Anna primly crossed her legs and made sure her long skirt was down to her ankles. “My heart isn't broken. Now that my relationship with him is all in the past I don't think I ever really loved him. In fact, I'm quite glad to have him out of my life.”
“Hell, you make him sound like an old dress you decided to throw away.”
“On the contrary. I've had dresses I was fonder of than that...cheat.”
Miguel recognized she had a right to be bitter. But he didn't like to think she could be as callous as Charlene, who'd tossed him away like an outdated garment she no longer wanted.
“The other day when Roy came by the ranch, I honestly got the notion you...cared about people. But now I'm beginning to wonder just who and what you care about.”
She gritted her teeth and tried to slow her rocketing temper. “You think I don't have a heart just because I had the common sense to get over a man who was a liar and a cheat? Who do you think you're helping by pining after that ex-wife of yours? If she'd been any kind of woman at all you would have kept her, right?”
His eyes were little more than slits when he finally glanced at her. “What do you know about my ex-wife?”
“Nothing! Except that she must have been a bi—a difficult person. Or is that not true? Did the fault of your divorce lie with you? Is that why you never see your son?”
As soon as the questions were out, Anna was horrified at herself. She'd never meant to say them. At least not in such a blunt fashion. But he had such a way about him that one word, one glance was enough to rip away all her niceties.
Miguel's face grew rigid as a rock, then red, as he stared at the highway in front of them. “Who told you I had a son? Have some of the men been gossiping about me?”
Horrified with herself or not, another spurt of anger blasted through Anna, and she turned on him. “I'd hardly call it gossiping to say someone has a child! Or are you ashamed of him?”
With a brief glance in the rearview mirror, Miguel stomped on the brake and jerked the vehicle to the side of the highway.
Anna's heart was pounding as he killed the motor and deliberately turned in the seat to face her.
“I am not ashamed of my son! And you are never to speak of him again!”
“Why?” she dared to ask.
“Because he is none of your business!”
Anna's gaze was riveted to his face, and as she looked at him, she realized it was more than anger she was seeing. Her probing questions had ripped something away, exposed a vulnerable part of him he didn't want her to see, and the sight tore at her.
“No. I don't suppose he is my business. But he should be yours.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I had to find out about your son secondhand from my brother. That doesn't sound like a proud father to me!”
“Do you know how wrong, how ignorant it is of you to make insinuations about me? About my relationship with my son?”
His voice was low and furious, and Anna knew he wanted to strangle her. But for once she didn't care that she had angered him, that she had perhaps stepped over the line. She was doing it because she cared.
“Just like it was wrong of you to assume I was nothing but a musician,” she shot back.
Her reminder hit home. After his eyes raked a few more cutting paths over her face, he sighed and settled back in his seat.
“Miguel, my intention wasn't to imply you were a bad father. I simply wanted to know about him. Why he isn't here with you,” she said more gently.
He didn't reply. Anna sighed, then looked toward the window as the sting of tears touched the back of her eyes. “I guess I was a little hurt because... well, you obviously didn't want to share that part of your life with me.”
Long moments of silence continued to stretch inside the vehicle. Anna eventually turned her head to look at him. His anger was gone, and in its place she could see sad regret.
“Oh, Anna,” he said softly. “It shouldn't matter to you. You getting tangled up in my life...it isn't good. For either of us. You'll be gone soon.”
He was gently reminding her she had no place in his life or even a place on the Bar M, and she felt as if he'd stabbed her to the bone.
Glancing away from him so he couldn't see the glisten of moisture in her eyes, she said, “I might not be leaving soon. I might decide to stay here on the Bar M for good this time.”
He muttered a curse under his breath. “You're talking silly now.”
Anna's first instinct was to turn and scream at him. But the last thing she wanted was for him to add
hysterical
to her description.
As coolly and collectedly as she could manage, she said, “I don't think anyone is ridiculous for wanting to be home. If you do, I think you're the one who's heartless.”
“That's not what I meant. I think it's crazy for you to consider giving up your career.”
“You gave up yours,” she countered.
He arched a brow at her. “I've never had a career.”
“You were a lawman.”
He grimaced. “I never intended to be a lawman for the rest of my life. But you have a talent. You'd never be happy if you gave it up. After a few months' time, you'd be frantic to get out of this place, to get back into a refined culture. And that's not even counting the money you'd be turning your back on.”
All her life Anna had heard those very words, and for years she'd believed she had no choice but to play music. Guilt had riddled her whenever the mere thought of giving it up flashed briefly through her mind. She didn't want to be a quitter, a loser like Belinda had been. But, dear God, she silently prayed, was she suppose to give up having a family, a home, all the things she'd ever wanted the most?
“It's always easy to give someone advice when you're looking through the other side of the fence.”
He sighed, reached for the ignition switch, then paused. “I think you are a troubled girl, Anna. You don't know what you want.”
Two weeks ago she would have probably agreed with him. But now the once-confused vision in her heart was slowly growing clear. She wanted to be near Miguel. She wanted to feel his touch. She wanted to play for him. She wanted to wake with him each morning, look out over the mountains and know that she was truly home.
But how could she tell him how she was feeling? He didn't want her or any woman in that way. Even worse, he believed she was young and fickle.
“And you do?” she countered softly.
His face closed, he reached for the ignition and the engine sprang to life. “Right now I want my supper,” he said brusquely. “As for your question, that's my concern. Not yours.”
Was her brother out of his mind?
Miguel's a lonely man. He needs your company.
Or was she the crazy one for listening to him in the first place?
“I'll try to remember that,” she said flatly.
 
Supper was a quiet occasion. Miguel ate steak. Anna was contented with a shrimp salad. Their conversation touched on a few local happenings, the general condition of the ranch and some of the work they would both be doing in the next few days. But even though they talked, Anna felt a cold chasm stretching between them.
She didn't know if the awkward tension was because they'd said too much to each other or not enough. Whatever the case, she was relieved when he finally suggested they leave the restaurant.
On their way across the parking lot they passed a young couple heading toward the building. The man was leading a toddler while the woman was carrying a baby in a small carrier. Anna stared after them, her expression unknowingly wistful. Many of the friends with whom she'd grown up had already started families of their own. Violet was pregnant and Chloe had mentioned that Emily might be expecting again. But she could see no baby on her horizon. Not even the promise of one to come.
A few minutes later Miguel surprised her by saying, “You've gone quiet.”
She shook away her thoughts and glanced at him. “I was just...thinking.”
“Those people back in the parking lot, did you know them?”
She shook her head. “No. They...well, seeing them made me wonder what it would be like to have children.”
He frowned skeptically. “Did you ever want children?”
Her head bent, her gaze on her lap, she nodded. “I've always wanted children.”
“And how do you think a baby would fit in your life?” He didn't add the question of a husband. The idea of a man, any man making love to Anna, filling her with child was too repulsive for Miguel to consider.

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