Bright Eyes (12 page)

It felt good. Zeke didn’t think about what he said or how he said it; he just turned loose and enjoyed conversing with her. All and all, it was a liberating experience, and, best of all, Natalie seemed to enjoy herself as much as he did.

When dinner was finally served and everyone had gathered around the table, they joined hands and blessed the food before they began to eat. Zeke liked that, too. It reminded him of home.

“For a change, it smells like we got something to eat that we can really be thankful for,” Gramps commented.

Natalie flashed Zeke an impish grin. “My reputation in the kitchen is legend.”

“Can’t cook for squat,” Gramps inserted. “Only person I know who can’t boil an egg.”

“I can so!” Natalie cried.

“Ha. Dad-blamed things bounce off my teeth.” To Zeke, Gramps added, “She’ll never find her way to a man’s heart through his stomach, that’s fer sure. Girl’s got too many songs in her head to mind the stove.”

“It’s the new millennium, Gramps,” Natalie inserted. “A woman’s talents needn’t be confined to the kitchen anymore.”

“Hmmph. Can’t hurt to have
some
talent in the kitchen.”

Pop nodded as he sampled the food. “Now
this
is good.”

Natalie moaned as if she were in the throes of orgasm when she took a taste. “This is
fabulous,
Zeke.”

Gramps made appreciative noises while he chewed. After swallowing, he said, “You oughta marry this fella, Nattie girl. The man can flat cook.”

Normally, the very mention of marriage made Zeke nervous, but when he looked across the table at Natalie, he had no inclination to run. “I’m glad all of you like it.”

“Mm,” she said. “How did you do this with
my
chicken?”

Zeke winked at her. “Good Alfredo can disguise the taste of almost anything.”

She laughed. “Thanks a bunch.”

Pop dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin and slanted a meaningful look at his daughter. “Short of marrying him, you should at least consider hiring him. That chef you got at the club could take lessons.”

Natalie flashed Zeke an inquiring look. “You interested in a job?”

Zeke gazed into her beautiful eyes and decided he was interested in far more than that.

The meal ended too quickly to suit Zeke. To his surprise, he enjoyed talking with Pop and Gramps, who’d spent their lives working a farm. Ranching and farming were two different enterprises, of course, but there were enough similarities for Zeke to converse intelligently with them on a variety of topics.

After Natalie’s father and grandfather returned to the living room to watch Court TV, Zeke stayed to help clean up the kitchen. On the counter near the sink, he saw a tattered tablet. The top page was filled with chicken scratch. When he looked closer, he realized it was music and verse.

“Songs,” Natalie explained with an embarrassed laugh. “I keep tablets in every room so I can jot ideas down as they come to me.” She shrugged. “That way, I don’t grab a pen and write on myself.”

“Ah.” Zeke didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so he stopped looking at the tablet. “Makes sense.”

A smile lighted her eyes. “Which part, writing stuff down—or taking preventative measures so I don’t look like I went to a drunk tattoo artist?”

“Both. It’d be a shame to forget a song that may become a number-one hit.”

She made a face. “Not likely. Pop keeps threatening to paper the walls with my songs. I’ve written hundreds and never sold one yet.”

“Ever tried?”

“Not yet. The club and my kids keep me pretty busy.” She sent him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about all the ribbing at dinner tonight.” She washed a plate and stacked it in the drainer to be dried. “My family isn’t really looking to marry me off. Gramps just didn’t stop to think how it sounded.”

“I realized that he was only joking.”

“Good.” She handed him another plate. “I’m really not in the market for another husband. I wouldn’t want you to think—well, you know—that I had designs on you or anything.”

“No worries.” He angled her a questioning glance. “Any particular reason why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why you’re not in the market for another husband.”

She smiled and grabbed a pot to immerse it in the sudsy water. “The first one cured me for life.” Her expression sobered, and she shrugged. “Maybe someday—if I meet a really special man. Then, again, maybe not. Once burned, twice shy, and all that.”

“Robert hurt you that deeply?”

She scrubbed on the pot for so long that Zeke almost gave up on getting an answer. Then, in a voice pitched so low it was barely more than a whisper, she said, “A thousand times.”

His heart caught at the pain he glimpsed in her eyes. Then, just as quickly, it vanished, and she dimpled her cheek in a mischievous grin. “How about you? Fair is fair. Did some wicked woman break your heart? There must be some reason a guy like you is still running around loose.”

Zeke chuckled. “I’m one of those rare birds who’s never been in love.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe once, if you count puppy love. When I got older, I just never met anyone who struck me as being that special.” Zeke set a drinking glass in the cupboard and then plucked another from the drainer. “I never really wanted to get married. Maybe that accounts for it. Some people are cut out to have a family, others aren’t.”

“And you’re not?”

“It was never high on my list. Came from growing up in such a large family, I guess. As a kid, I felt like a sardine packed into a can a lot of the time. No room of my own, no sacrosanct corner where I could escape to read or be alone with my thoughts. With three younger brothers and a little sister, I couldn’t even go for a walk without one or all of them tagging along. When I finally got out on my own, I enjoyed living alone. I didn’t really want to get married and clutter up my life with kids.” Zeke realized with something of a shock that he was speaking in the past tense. He mentally circled that, wondering what had come over him. Then he looked into her soft brown eyes and knew. “That isn’t to say I’ll never change my mind. It’ll just take a very special lady to get me there.”

She nodded in understanding. “You have plenty of solitude now.”

“Yes.” And it suddenly felt less desirable than it had a week ago. “No background noise when I want peace and quiet. No one to fight with over the remote. No standing in line to use the john.”

She laughed. The small diamond studs in her earlobes winked at him through her silky black curls. “Around here, we have to take a number to use the bathroom.”

“There’s only one?”

“Nothing in this house has been updated. One bath, no dishwasher or garbage disposal. Pop doesn’t believe in sparing coin for frivolities.”

Zeke doubted that Pete Westfield had much coin to spare, period.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and before Zeke knew it, the last dish had been dried and put away. He had no further excuse to hang around.

“Well,” he said regretfully, “I guess I better scat.”

She looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes that sucked him under and wouldn’t let him resurface to grab for breath. “It was fun. I’m glad you came over.”

Zeke seconded that sentiment. He was so damned glad. He wished she’d grab a spoon and sing to him. Anything, just so he wouldn’t have to leave.
Nuts
. At the back of his mind, he wondered at the insanity. He tried to think of his empty house, which waited to embrace him with silence. That was what he wanted. Right? Only when he looked into her eyes, he no longer felt so sure.

She accompanied him to the door and then followed him out onto the porch. Zeke stopped on the bottom rise and turned. She let the screen slap closed behind her and shivered in the chill night breeze.

“One thing,” she said softly.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Crickets sang in the grass behind him. He heard a cow low in the huge old barn that loomed just beyond the picket fence.

“About Tucker,” she murmured.

Zeke’s heart sank. He’d been hoping she might ask him to kiss her. Dumb thought. Natalie wasn’t that kind. She was too—well, he wasn’t sure what. Shy, he guessed, although he hadn’t a clue why. She could crook her little finger and have any man she wanted.

“Stop worrying about what he may have done with that woman. The apple never falls far from the tree. Remember? Your brother would never stoop that low.”

Zeke’s throat went tight. “That’s a mighty nice compliment you just paid me.”

“Sincerely meant.”

“You barely know me.”

“Not true. I’ve seen how you are with my kids.”

She chafed her arms, making him wish he could gather her up in a hug and share his warmth.

“Maybe I’m a great loss to the stage,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No act can hold up around Rosie.”

“True. She does have a way of dispensing with formality, doesn’t she?”

Zeke hadn’t felt nervous about kissing a woman in years—but then, it wasn’t often he got an opportunity to kiss someone so beautiful, either. There was also the inescapable possibility that Natalie wouldn’t welcome the advance.

To test the water, he brushed a curl from her cheek, then traced the curve of her delicate jaw. She swallowed convulsively. Her lashes fluttered low. He moved closer.

“Zeke?”

“Yo,” he whispered, his mouth a scant inch from hers.

“What I said earlier, about being hurt a thousand times? I’m not looking to make it a thousand and one.”

He caught her chin on the crook of his finger and moved up a step. “No worries. I’ll never hurt you.”

“I just—”

He cut her off by settling his mouth over hers.
Warm, moist silk.
She tasted so damned sweet, her lips soft and tremulous, the touch of her hands hesitant and uncertain when she curled them over his shoulders.
Oh, man
. When her lips parted to allow him entry, he felt the punch like a fist to his gut. He cupped his other hand over the nape of her neck, his fingers closing over her thick curls.
Natalie.
Just like that, and he wanted her—wanted her as he’d never wanted anyone.

She moaned softly into his mouth. He felt the nervous tension leave her body. He could have taken her mouth more deeply. God knew he wanted to. But something told him to take it slowly, that a brief, polite, good-night kiss was safer. After getting a taste of her, it took all his self-control to draw away.

She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, her expression so bewildered and confused and frightened that Zeke wanted to reassure her. He was about to do that when he heard an ominous hissing sound behind him.

“Chester, no!” Natalie cried.

Too late.
Zeke’s ass exploded with pain. When he whirled to confront his attacker, all he could see was a blur of white. He cleared the porch, cursing and swinging. When his boots connected with solid ground, he was already running, the gander in hot pursuit.

“Oh, Zeke, I’m so
sorry!”
he heard Natalie call after him.

He was already halfway across the field.

Chapter Seven

F
alling in love . . .

Over the next week, Zeke experienced for the first time how it felt to fall in love. Accidentally touching hands. Glancing up, only to look into Natalie’s eyes and forget what he meant to say. Smiling for no reason at all when he was alone. Lying awake at night because he couldn’t get her off his mind. He loved the way she laughed, the sound moving through him like sunlight. He loved the way she wrinkled her nose and rolled her sparkling eyes when she got embarrassed. He loved the little frown that pleated her brow when she grew thoughtful. He even loved the fire that flashed in her eyes when she was perturbed.

A confirmed bachelor, Zeke tried to convince himself that his feelings stemmed from a particularly strong physical attraction—a fleeting fancy, nothing more. But with each passing day, he found himself getting more involved, not only caring more for her, but also coming to care for her children.

Rosie was easy to love—an ebon-haired angel with gigantic brown eyes, irrepressible buoyancy, and a dimple that made Zeke’s heart melt every time she smiled. Chad was another story, constantly trying Zeke’s patience with his stormy mood swings, sarcastic mouth, and sulky manner, all three traits distinctly more pronounced when his mother was around. Zeke oscillated between wanting to give the kid a hard shake and aching to hug him.

As the week wore on, Zeke discovered that Chad’s self-esteem issues were even more serious than he’d originally thought. One moment, the boy could be bursting with pride over an accomplishment, and the next he was convinced that he would fail if Zeke asked him to try something new. The I-suck-at-everything attitude was so ingrained in Chad’s makeup that he was constantly fulfilling his own prophecy, screwing up the easiest tasks simply because he knew he would.

When working with Chad, Zeke found himself frequently referring back to his childhood, trying to remember how his father had handled similar situations. Sadly, though, there was no comparison between Zeke as a boy and Chad. Zeke had been around tools and workingmen from infancy. Chad was starting from scratch, not only completely inept at using tools, but also clueless about their names and what they were used for. The poor kid didn’t even know the difference between a regular screwdriver and a Phillips. As a result, Zeke found himself spending a great deal of time alone with Chad, playing teacher, while Natalie and Rosie worked together at something else.

Consequently, Zeke developed a bond with three people simultaneously, falling hard for Natalie despite his attempts not to, becoming captivated by her daughter, and developing strong paternal feelings for Chad.

By Sunday evening, one full week after kissing Natalie good night on her back porch, Zeke was beginning to feel as if he’d waded in over his head. Once he’d seen Natalie and the kids off, he sat on the side porch, gazing thoughtfully after them, his mind still shying away from what his heart already knew—that he was falling wildly in love. Given the fact that getting married and having a family weren’t in his game plan, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew only that he meant to be damned sure of his feelings before he acted on them.

The following morning, Chad showed up at Zeke’s place alone. “Rosie’s still asleep,” the boy explained. “Mom says to tell you she’ll be here as soon as she can.”

“No problem,” Zeke said. “You hungry? I’m feeling in the mood for French toast.”

Chad’s eyes brightened. “With powdered sugar and syrup?”

Zeke laughed. “I can swing that.”

A few minutes later while they were eating breakfast, Zeke got a call from the glass shop, telling him that his sliding door panes had arrived. “Well, that throws a wrench in the fan blades,” he told Chad as he got off the phone. “If I’m going to drive clear into town this morning, I should make the trip count and spend a few hours at the store.”

“You got work to do there?”

“I went in late last night and took care of the paperwork, but there’s always something.” Zeke rubbed the back of his neck. “Monday is a big delivery day. If nothing else, I can put away stock.”

“I could help.”

Zeke studied the boy’s eager expression, silently marveling at the change in his attitude. Was this the same lippy kid who’d stood on his doorstep Saturday morning a week ago? “I appreciate the offer, Chad, but I’ll probably get sidetracked doing office stuff afterward. You can’t really help me with that, and you’d be bored out of your skull.” Zeke reached for the portable phone again. “What’s the number over at your place? I’ll call your mother and head her off at the pass.”

A moment later, Natalie answered Zeke’s call. When her sweet voice came over the line, he pictured her face and smiled. “Good morning. How are you today?”

She laughed. “I’m great, just a little sore from swinging that hammer. It’s been a number of years since I drove nails.”

Zeke glanced out the back window at the compost frame that she and Rosie had worked on together the previous day. “Never know it by the workmanship. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“Yes, well, it’s a bit difficult to mess up a compost box.”

Zeke moved on to the reason he’d called. After explaining the situation, he said, “Anyway, if it’s all right with you, I’ll send Chad home for the day. Most of the afternoon will be shot by the time I get back.”

“That’ll be great, actually,” she confessed. “I need to take the kids shopping for school clothes, and I’d rather do it on my day off so I’m not exhausted before I start my shift.”

Zeke glanced at Chad, who had taken it upon himself to start loading the dishwasher. Pushing up from the chair, Zeke moved into the living room beyond the boy’s earshot. “Natalie, about the school clothes. I know you’re tight on money right now. I’ll be happy to float you a small loan.”

“Oh.” A long silence ensued. “That’s very kind of you, Zeke, but I can manage.”

Zeke hated to see her kids dressed in secondhand clothing, but he didn’t really know her well enough to press the issue further. “You sure? I’ve got a nice nest egg in the bank. I honestly wouldn’t miss the money. I trust you to pay it back when things get better.”

There was a smile in her voice when she replied. “I’m a Westfield. In a pinch, we get creative.”

Zeke let it go at that. He had no other choice.

Zeke was stocking shelves early that afternoon when he heard Rosie’s voice in the next aisle. He stepped onto an unopened box of oil to look over the shelf and found himself gazing down into Natalie’s beautiful brown eyes. Her cheek dimpled in a smile.

“Ah, there you are.” She placed a hand atop her daughter’s head. “The kids wanted to see your store. There was nothing for it but to bring them by. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Zeke winked at Rosie. “Stay where you are. I’ll come give you the grand tour.”

Minutes later, after guiding his guests from one department to another, Zeke led the way upstairs via the elevator.

“Pretty fancy,” Natalie commented. “Most two-level buildings don’t have lifts.”

As the door slid open onto the upstairs hallway, Zeke explained, “We had it installed for my sister, Bethany, when she moved down from Portland and went to work here. She’s a paraplegic and can’t manage stairs.”

“She used to work for you?”

“For my brother Jake, actually.” Zeke walked with them toward his office. “Long story. The Works has changed hands a few times. My father started the business but had to turn it over to Jake because of his health. Jake ran it for only a year. Then it came to me. I liked it so well, I purchased the business from my dad.”

“Oh, look, Mommy!” Rosie cried. “There are horses on the walls!”

Natalie slowed to study the horse photographs. “Are they yours?” she asked Zeke.

“They are.” Zeke indicated the first picture with a jab of his finger. “That’s Windwalker. The sorrel is named Cinnamon. The little chestnut mare is Jelly Bean.”

Chad stepped closer to study the picture gallery, which boasted snapshots of Zeke’s family members as well as his horses. “Are these your ropers?” the boy asked.

“Best roping stock in the state.” Zeke ruffled the boy’s hair. “You can take that with a grain of salt. I love them and undoubtedly think they’re more special than they actually are. They’re great animals, though.”

“Zeke says he’ll teach me to rope sometime,” Chad informed his mother.

“That would be lovely.” Natalie had moved on to look at the family snapshots. When she saw one of Bethany in her wheelchair, she said, “This must be your sister.”

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“We think so.” Zeke joined her and pointed to another picture. “That’s Tucker and Isaiah, the day they opened their clinic,” he said. “And that’s my dad, holding Jake’s son at the hospital right after he was born. This one is of Jake and Hank at their ranch, the Lazy J. The pregnant blonde and the redhead you see in the background are their wives, Carly and Molly. The baby is due this coming spring. It’s Hank and Carly’s first child.”

“The family resemblance is incredible,” she said as she perused the collection of snapshots. “All you boys look so much like your dad.”

Zeke nodded. When they ran out of pictures to study, he turned to the kids. “How about a soda pop?”

Rosie bounced in place and clapped her hands. Chad shrugged, his standard response to most offers. Zeke directed them into his office. After getting everyone a soft drink, he seated Natalie behind his desk and grabbed a stool for himself.

“We should be going,” she said. “We’re taking up your time. I only meant to make a fast stop so the kids could see the store.”

“I’m glad you came,” Zeke said, and he sincerely meant it. It had been nice, sharing this part of his life with her. The realization was vaguely alarming. Normally, he liked to keep his social and private lives separate. With Natalie, everything was different somehow.

She took a sip of her pop and glanced at her watch. “Drink up, you guys,” she said to the children. “We have a ton of shopping left to do.”

It seemed to Zeke that Chad and Rosie guzzled their soft drinks at record speed, and before he knew it, he was escorting his guests back downstairs. He walked outside with them, loath to say good-bye even though he’d be seeing them again in the morning.

“Have fun shopping!” he called after them as they went to Natalie’s car.

Natalie turned to walk backward. “Thanks for the tour. It was fun.”

“Anytime.”

Zeke remained on the front walkway as they drove off. Anytime? He had it bad. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and, even worse, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

That evening, Zeke had been home for no more than thirty minutes when Rosie showed up at his door. The child was decked out in what appeared to be brand-new clothes: a pretty blue top, matching shorts, and cute leather sandals.

“Whoa! Just look at you,” Zeke said.

The child pirouetted on the doormat, her thin little arms held out to show off her new summer outfit. “I got bunches of school clothes, too! Mommy says I’ll be the prettiest little girl in my whole class.”

“Your mommy is absolutely right,” Zeke agreed. He just hoped Natalie hadn’t put herself in a financial bind to take the kids shopping. “I thought you were supposed to buy clothes at Goodwill.”

“We were.” Rosie’s face fairly glowed. “But Mommy was tired of her earrings and sold them at a shock hop.”

“Hockshop,” Zeke corrected. He vaguely recalled seeing diamond earrings twinkling through Natalie’s curls. It saddened him to think that she’d sold them to dress her kids. “Lucky for you she got tired of them. Looks to me like you scored big time.”

“Yep.” Rosie tipped her dark head to study him, looking so much like her mother that Zeke wanted to hug her. “Well, I guess I’d better go. I just wanted to show you my clothes.”

“I’m glad you did. That is one fine-looking outfit.”

His smile fading, Zeke gazed after Rosie as she scampered away. When the child had safely reached her own yard, he closed the door.
Silence
. Zeke had always enjoyed being alone, but now, suddenly, he just felt lonely. He wandered into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and stared at the food on the shelves, wondering what he should fix for supper. Nothing sounded appealing.

He thought of Natalie in the Westfield kitchen last Sunday night, waving the long-handled fork and singing. He wished she were available to burn a couple of chicken breasts for him now. Or better yet, that she’d invite him for dinner again. He had enjoyed visiting with her dad and grandfather. Tonight, with Valerie and the kids there, the conversation at the supper table was sure to be even livelier.

The thought made Zeke slap the freezer door closed. He sank onto a kitchen chair and stared blankly at the gleaming surface of the tabletop.
Time to do some serious thinking
. He was falling, Stetson over boot heels, for Natalie Patterson. Before he took this any further, he needed to be positive it was what he really wanted. Ladies like Natalie weren’t made for trial runs.

Problem
. How could any man be absolutely sure of his feelings for a lady at the beginning of a relationship? Zeke was cautious by nature, always had been. To even consider making a long-term commitment to a woman was a gigantic step for him, and before he took it, he wanted to be sure he wasn’t making a huge mistake. To accomplish that, he needed to spend a lot more time with Natalie and her kids. He also needed to know that he and the lady were sexually compatible. A guy couldn’t determine that with only a kiss.

And therein lay the problem, he decided. To be sure of his feelings, he’d be putting Natalie’s at risk. If he pressed her to take the relationship to a more intimate level, she might come to expect more from him than he’d feel inclined to give. Rather than take that gamble, it might be better never to go there. He didn’t want to hurt her. She’d already been hurt too many times.

So that left him where, exactly? Nowhere, he guessed. He needed to cool it, no question about it.