Crockett's Seduction (7 page)

But none of this would have happened if Last felt more secure in his family, or if he’d developed a better relationship with his daughter.

The best thing was for her to slip away.

“Have it your way, Last,” she heard Crockett say as she walked back to the stands. “It’s your buckle to win.”

“And I will,” Last said.

“Or break something trying,” Mason intoned.

“Yeah? Crockett didn’t break anything. Don’t ever say I should do something because of Annette and Valentine.”

“I meant you shouldn’t ride the bull because they were here, dumbass. You shouldn’t scare them. You’re too hotheaded these days. And I didn’t break anything because I’m a good rider, not because I’m avoiding love.”

So much for the family curse, Valentine observed as she hurried away. She didn’t believe in silly superstitions—then she stopped in her tracks.

Not too long ago, Valentine and her sister, Nina, had gone to great lengths to keep their heirloom bed in the family. It was supposedly charmed with baby-making powers. Valentine believed in the charm. And that meant she was just as superstitious as Crockett and the rest of the Jeffersons.

“Nothing good can come of this,” she muttered as she walked to where her friends and family were sitting.

“We’re going to take a break for a while,” she said, picking up Annette.

“Where are you going?” Mimi asked.

“We’re going to take a tiny walk while D-A-DD-Y antagonizes the great hairy B-U-L-L.”

“Head over to my kitchen,” Delilah Honeycutt, Marvella’s sister, called from one row up. Her longtime trucker boyfriend, Jerry, sat next to her, nodding. “There are fresh strawberries on the counter, as well as some just-baked cookies. They won’t be as good as yours, but they’ll tide you over. Help yourself to the fridge, as well.”

Valentine smiled. “Thank you so much.”

“Borrow one of the rooms upstairs for a N-A-P,” Delilah suggested, nodding at Annette.

“I appreciate that.” It was a very generous offer, and Valentine was relieved. “Thank you, Delilah. See you all later.”

She headed off. “You’re a sweet baby,” she whispered to Annette. “Your daddy is being a gorilla, but his brothers will get him out of his hair suit. Eventually. And what did you think about your Uncle Crockett riding that mean ol’ bull?”

Annette didn’t answer, but she stuck her fist in her mouth.

“I’ll get one of Delilah’s delicious cookies,” she said, letting herself into the cool beauty salon. “There was a time when I didn’t think I’d ever be inside this shop,” she murmured. “I’m so glad times are changing.”

The door opened behind her. “Hey,” Crockett said, closing the door. “You bailing?”

Valentine nodded, happy in spite of herself to see him. “I kind of have to. You?”

“Nah. I’ve got to be brave. I’ll either be mopping up a brother or giving him my buckle.”

Valentine looked into his eyes. “Just give it to him.”

He chuckled. “Last would not accept a victory that way.” Rubbing a thumb along her chin, he asked, “Why are you so anxious to protect him?”

Valentine pulled away from Crockett’s touch. “I’m looking out for him for the same reason you are.”

Crockett doubted that, but he told himself his jealousy was ill-founded. “I suppose I should be happy that you care about my family.”

She moved farther into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you care what I think. Did I just imagine the silent treatment you gave me this morning?”

Touchy. He couldn’t blame her; there was confusion enough to go around. “I’m not trying to cross any lines that you—or anybody else—has drawn.”

“This family could be a tic-tac-toe board. There are no winning squares, just dividing lines.”

“Ouch.” He pulled off a dusty glove and sank into a kitchen chair.

She didn’t turn around as she fussed with Annette’s dress. “Are you hurt?”

“No, that was a mental pain. I hate to think of bad feelings between us. You are my niece’s mother.”

He watched for a shrug but he couldn’t read her posture. She set Annette on the counter and washed the little girl’s hands. He smiled at her conscientious mothering.

“What time is Last riding?”

“In thirty minutes. I should get back and loosen him up.” Crockett sighed. “I came to apologize, Valentine, for that mess back there. You’re right about the lines. I feel them, too. Although I may be uncomfortable, I shouldn’t take it out on you or Last.”

“Uncomfortable about?”

He shrugged. Could he be honest about exactly what he felt? Maybe at this point he wasn’t certain what that was. “Part of me admires you. Admires you more than as a part of our family.”

There. He’d admitted it. The words lingered in the air between them. His stomach tightened.

“Sometimes maybe I think of you as more, too,” she said softly. She hesitated a moment before setting a teakettle on the burner. “Saying that doesn’t make me feel any better, though. I really don’t want to think of you in any way except as one more of the Jefferson men. So I try not to.”

What had he expected her to say? Recklessly, he moved behind her, turning her to face him. He felt the warmth of the stove as it heated, sort of like his heart, which refused to grow cold. “I stayed on that bull because of you,” he said. “None of my brothers have the reason I did.” He ran his palms down her arms, enjoying the soft feel of her.

“What reason?”

Did he imagine that hitch in her breath? Why not keep talking? Maybe her response would surprise him. “There’s something about you that draws me in. I like thinking about you. And then I remember Last and I tell myself I can’t think about you. I got up on that bull, and I told myself that for those eight seconds, I wouldn’t think about you. I would think about saving my life. For eight seconds, I would be free.”

She stared up at him, her eyes huge.

He shook his head as he stroked her cheek. “I was looking for freedom from the guilt, from the worry. From knowing it was wrong to see you in any way except as a sister. Only, the crazy thing was, as Bloodthirsty left the gate, all I thought of was you. You and Annette. And it was the shortest eight seconds of my life.”

After a moment, Valentine pulled away slowly,
leaving his arms cold. She didn’t say a word, and he knew he’d said too much, felt too much.

So he left. And the pain in his heart was far greater than the pain of a broken body.

And none of it could be fixed.

S
TUNNED
, V
ALENTINE STARED
at the floor as she listened to Crockett walk out the door. He’d shocked her into complete silence. The depth of his passion overwhelmed her.

Mimi had said a Jefferson in hot pursuit was unmistakable. Now she understood.

She also understood that what he spoke of could never be. Part of her wished the fantasy had not come alive between them, because now they could never go back.

She desperately wanted to make love with him. How wonderful would it be to give in, to spend time in his world—

Blinking her eyes against tears, she chose a teacup and put a fragrant tea bag into it. Bemused, she carried Annette upstairs and put her down for a nap. All the while her mind replayed the intense look on Crockett’s face when he’d revealed his feelings to her.

“I’ll make cookies,” she murmured, remembering Delilah’s offer to use the fridge. Baking, Val
entine recognized, had become her comfort, her refuge in every storm. Taking a bowl of dough, she lifted the plastic wrap. Chocolate chip would make the house smell good, and she’d be helping Delilah…and she wouldn’t think about what Crockett had told her.

Not even once.

From upstairs, she heard Annette call her. Probably worried about being in a new place, or perhaps she needed something to drink. Her mind preoccupied, Valentine set the bowl down next to the stove and hurried from the kitchen.

The plastic wrap flamed from the heat of the stove, setting a stack of old recipe cards on fire. Instantly, the seasoning rack above took the flames and the wooden kitchen cabinets began smoking.

The teakettle, fully warmed now, let off a shrill whistle. Valentine ran down the stairs, stopping in horror. “Oh, no!” she cried. “Oh, no!”

The whole kitchen now alight, Valentine ran upstairs, grabbed her baby and hurried down the back stairs toward the rodeo.

T
HREE HOURS LATER
, Crockett was really, really worried about Valentine. She simply sat, staring at the rubble that had once been Delilah’s kitchen and salon. Sensing her mother’s mood, Annette sat
in Valentine’s lap, patting her mother’s face every once in a while.

The town’s volunteer fire squad had done their best to put out the blaze, but the odds of getting it tamed quickly had been slim. Delilah hadn’t cried at the sight of her destroyed home. Instead she’d tried to comfort Valentine, to no avail.

But when Marvella, her sister, pulled Delilah into her arms, whispering how sorry she was, how sorry she was for everything, Delilah did break down.

Crockett saw Valentine’s shoulders droop. She was so dejected by what she had accidentally done. He wanted to hold her, but he knew he could not. She had not wanted to hear the words he’d told her when they were standing in Delilah’s kitchen; he had felt her withdraw.

If he went to her now, he would feel more of that rejection. He could tell her heart was broken. There really was no comfort he could give her.

But there were blessings: everyone had been at the rodeo, so no one was hurt; Delilah said she was fully insured; the townspeople loved her, and the town fathers said they would help her rebuild, newer and better than before.

Also Jerry was there to comfort Delilah, his brawny arms folded as he stood nearby, watching the two sisters hug away the years of pain.

Yes, there were blessings, but he knew Valentine was too distraught to see any of those right now. He knew exactly what she was thinking: She’d burned down the kitchen of her old employer’s one-time rival, and maybe no one would believe it had truly been an accident. Perhaps people would say that they’d always known she wasn’t to be trusted.

Last must have understood some of the cares weighing on Valentine because he put Annette on his shoulders and helped Valentine to his truck.

Jealousy ripped through Crockett like a fire-ball. That was the move he could have made, had he not spoken too soon, revealing his heart and likely forever driving a wedge of discomfort between them. He looked at his smoke-stained clothes, brushing a hand against them before heading inside the rodeo arena to help with the tear-down.

There really wasn’t much else he could do.

He’d won the bounty, but he didn’t feel much like a winner. In fact, he felt as if he’d lost something that mattered a whole hell of a lot to him, which he might not ever get back.

Numb and totally devastated, Valentine allowed Last to lead her away from the destruction she had created. She couldn’t believe what she had done—poor Delilah!

This was no time to leave. If her heart was broken, Delilah’s must be far more so. She owed it to Delilah to stay here in Lonely Hearts Station and do whatever she could to right what she had done.

“I can’t go,” she said to Last. “Thank you for trying to help me, but I need to stay here.”

He looked surprised. Atop his shoulders, Annette picked at her daddy’s cowboy hat. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. It’s time I show a little bravery.”

“Valentine, Delilah knows it was an accident.”

That didn’t make her feel much better. “I can’t leave her here with nothing.”

“She won’t have nothing. If it wasn’t for Deli
lah, Union Junction would have lost a lot more during the Great Storm. We won’t let her or her employees go without.” He frowned at her. “You need to rest. Staying here fretting isn’t going to solve anything.”

“But I have to stay,” she said, knowing she was being stubborn and yet feeling certain she was doing the right thing. “Last, it’s about showing that I care. I just can’t walk away and leave my mess behind.”

He stared at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was caught by Crockett, across the street. She watched him hoist a bag of sawdust on strong shoulders, and carry it inside the arena.

Last sighed. “Valentine.”

She turned her head. “Yes?”

“Are you staying because of Crockett?”

“No!” She glared at him. “Don’t even get started with me right now.”

“I saw him go over to Delilah’s. I know you were there, too. Shortly after, he came out, and her kitchen caught on fire.”

She gasped. “What are you suggesting?”

He shrugged. “There is nothing to suggest. It’s just how it was. But it seems something’s going on between you two, enough for an absentminded accident to occur. It’s not like you to not pay attention.”

“I think I flopped the dish towel too close to the burner,” she said miserably.

“It’s not like you,” he repeated. “I think your mind was elsewhere.”

“Lots of people let their mind wander. It shouldn’t be a disaster.”

“Maybe it’s best if you take a break from all this.”

“I don’t need a break. I need to help.” She knew how much it meant to possess her own home and business. She hated that she’d burned someone else’s down.

“Okay. I might as well stay here, too. We’ll need to move the ladies somewhere. They can’t stay in those rooms above the salon. Although the firemen say the rest of the house is stable except for the kitchen, it sure does smell smoky.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Now, don’t get upset,” Last said hurriedly. “Maybe they can open some windows or something.”

“Not for smoke,” Valentine said miserably. “It has staying power.”

“Come on. Let’s not stand over here talking,” Last said. “You know,” he added with a grin, “I am mad at you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t get to ride Bloodthirsty Black now. You effectively ruined my chance to show up my brother by setting a fire. I think you did it on purpose.”

That brought a tiny smile to her face. “I didn’t, but I’m glad you’re not riding. The whole thing is ridiculous.”

He shook his head. “Rodeo is for real men.”

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, smiling in spite of herself. “Real men know when to say no.”

“Yeah, well. I never have. Come on, sweetie,” he said to Annette. “Let’s go see the horsies.”

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Valentine said.

“It’s her mother who’s dangerous,” he said with a wink. “I just ride bulls.”

“You’re a jerk,” she said, swiping at his arm. “I won’t forgive you for that comment.”

Last left, with Annette happily bobbing on his shoulders.

“You’re in a better mood,” Crockett said, walking up to her.

“I can’t be in a better mood,” Valentine said, wiping soot off his face. “But I do feel less like the earth is going to open up any second and swallow me because of my crime.”

“Valentine, it was an accident.”

“I take pride in my kitchen work. How can I set
a kitchen on fire? Plus I feel terrible about poor Delilah. I burned down her kitchen and her business!” Tears sprang into her eyes again.

He nodded. She put her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you more upset?”

“Because it was an accident, and we Jeffersons have had plenty of our own.” He stroked her hair away from her face.

She shook her head, not about to allow him to soothe her into thinking this was minor. “It was still stupid.”

“Yeah.”

She glanced up at him, surprised.

“Ladies get propositioned all the time and don’t set houses on fire,” he said, his tone teasing.

She sighed. “You’re as bad as your brother. Did anybody ever tell you that you Jefferson males have situationally inappropriate humor?”

“A time or two. Hey, you want to help me move some things over to Marvella’s for Delilah’s stylists?”

She gasped. “Delilah’s girls are going to go stay at Marvella’s?”

“Yep. Delilah, too.”

“What have I done?” she moaned.

“I think you brought two sisters together who needed a reason to get together.” He pointed to
ward Delilah and Marvella. The sisters were busily loading a truck full of belongings so they could be carried across the street to Marvella’s. “We offered them our house, and the Union Junction stylists have some room above their salon that they were eager to share, but the Lonely Hearts girls voted. They and Delilah say they’ll stay with her sister.”

“I can’t believe it,” Valentine said softly.

“It’s a new day in Lonely Hearts Station,” he said cheerfully. “Hope it’s a good one. Come on. Looks like they’ve got the moving covered. I need to pick up another bag of sawdust.”

She followed him, more because he seemed to be her lifeline at this point, rather than because she believed in her ability to be helpful.

“Hey,” Crockett said as they walked inside the rodeo arena. “Don’t worry so much. Delilah told me she’d been thinking about redecorating.”

Valentine stared at the large, handsome cowboy. “Is that more inappropriate situational humor?”

He shook his head. “No. That’s what she said. She came out of the rodeo, asked if you and the baby were out of the house and safe, then shrugged and said she needed to redecorate anyway.”

“Crockett, how can I explain to you that the kitchen is the heart of the home? Having my own
place means everything in the world to me. Destroying someone else’s breaks my heart.”

“I understand. You are a very bad girl. Perhaps I should spank you.”

She stared at him. “You wouldn’t dare, and I would be very annnoyed.”

He grinned. “Anything to make you quit feeling so guilty. It’s a kitchen, and maybe a lot of smoke damage—”

“Crockett!” She glared at him.

“You are a prickly little thing.”

“You don’t have a serious bone in your body!”

“I do. I really admire your love of hearth and home. In fact, I hope I marry a woman who adores the kitchen as much as you do. It’s what every man dreams of.”

She crossed her arms.

“I would trust you in
my
kitchen.”

The twinkle in his eye was irritating. “Had you not approached me in the kitchen, I would have been my usual calm and collected self.”

“Ahh.” He nodded. “So you’re admitting that I get to you.”

“Cockroaches would also cause me not to be my usual calm and collected self, Crockett. Don’t get too proud.”

He looked crestfallen. “That was uncalled for.”

She laughed, knowing he was faking his hurt feelings. “Well, you have succeeded. You made me laugh.”

“That wasn’t really my goal.”

“Do you have goals, Crockett? You seem to live by your momentary impulses.”

“I have goals. I had an important goal when I came to Delilah’s kitchen. It was this.” He pulled her close, kissing her deeply. Valentine thought she could feel her toes curling—yes, they were—and maybe even her hair. She had forgotten what a great kisser he was!
A girl would bake all day just to get some of this sugar,
she thought as he held her.

Then he set her away from him. “That was a momentary impulse,” he said. “I do like to live by them.”

She took a moment to collect her wits. “You taste like soot,” she said, “but somehow, I liked it.” Before she could focus on what had just happened she heard an odd sound. “What’s that?”

“Sounds like a bull. They’re all in their pens.”

She turned to look at him. “So, was Bloodthirsty your last ride?”

He grinned. “A cowboy never says that.”

“Superstition?”

“Fact. We don’t want to get old. We want the thrill. We want the admiration of women. You
wouldn’t say you’d baked your last cookie, would you?”

“I hope I never do.”

“Same thing. Although I am not as young as I used to be, that
may
have been my last ride. I seem to have felt it more than I should have.” He came to stand beside her at the rail.

Even sooty and sweaty, she had to admit that Crockett was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. “I should be getting back to help,” she murmured. “Thank you for making me feel better.”

“So what happens after today?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking out over the empty arena. “I worry that I’ve crossed a line, and now you’ll avoid me.”

“If I can handle life with your brother, as awkward as we’ve made our situation, I think I can handle a little flattery from you.”

“So kiss me again.”

She laughed. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”

He sighed. “We could be the best of friends, given our situation.”

“Not that good.”

“Yeah. I guess if I really kissed you, you’d probably figure out a way to destroy this arena,” he said ruefully. “Although I don’t see a stove.”

“Okay, there’s a reason you’re needling me,” Valentine said, “so I’m going to indulge you. What effect are you going for? Anger? Rage?”

“Just good ol’-fashioned lust, I swear,” he said. “Garden variety, can’t-stop-thinking-about-your-mouth lust.”

And darn him, if he didn’t
really
kiss her. Every fiber of her body told her it was a bad idea. Everything between them was a bad idea, but he simply felt so good. He made her feel that everything was better in his world, his world was an awesome place to be. She sighed, leaning into him, winding her fingers into the shaggy hair coiling out from underneath his hat. The only thing on her mind was nothing but the feel of Crockett.

L
AST DUMPED
the last bag of sawdust on the ground inside the arena, then stood, brushing off his hands. He could work cleanup crew at Delilah’s, he could lay down fresh sawdust on the floor in the arena, he could help the ladies move their belongings to Marvella’s, but there was something else on his mind.

He glanced down at his little girl. Annette stared up at him, her eyes big in her face, watching her daddy work. Of all the emotions he’d ever had in his life, the feeling of looking big in his baby’s
eyes was the best. Annette adored him without hesitation, without emotional baggage. In her world, he was her man, and everything he did was special.

He loved the daddy thing.

“You’re pretty cute for a bug-eyed spud,” he told her. She nodded her head solemnly, then sat down on the bag of sawdust and began playing with her dolly. “I don’t know exactly when you grew on me. But you sure did.”

Kneeling down, he looked at his pretty little daughter. She gave him a smile, then went back to messing with her dolly’s hair. He couldn’t remember loving anybody the way he loved this child. His brothers had taken care of him, and they had loved him, but Annette was his to care for, and somehow that was more special than anything he’d ever known.

He felt a moment’s twinge of guilt that she would never know what it felt like to be part of a whole family. He’d certainly known that loneliness. It was not good. What would he say to her when she grew up?
Mommy and I really never liked each other, so we didn’t get married, even though we made you.

That sounded terrible. Looking down at his daughter’s soft hair, he tried again.
Mommy and I never liked each other, but we both adored you.

It was going to be difficult when the questions came.

A remote part of him wondered if it would simply be easier for Annette if he and Valentine married. People had arranged marriages all the time! It would certainly change Annette’s life for the better. Nobody asking uncomfortable questions at school, like why aren’t your mother and father married? No teasing.

He would love to save her that pain. To do that, he and Valentine would have to agree that a whole was better than two halves. She wasn’t likely to feel that way, he’d seen the way she looked at Crockett.

Some resentment bubbled up inside him. His brothers had no idea how hard it was being the baby. They’d congratulated themselves for years that they were such good parents, and they had been, but…there was a low-man-on-the-totem-pole effect to being youngest.

It wasn’t as wonderful as they thought it was. He was forever fighting for his place, his share of whatever was happening. All the brothers looked up to Mason and were even slightly in awe of his temper.

No one was in awe of Last.

It stunk.

“I could have ridden that stupid bull,” he told his daughter. “I could have beaten Crockett’s score, if I’d had the chance.”

It probably mattered very little to anyone except him, but matter to him it did. He always got the butt end of every situation in the family. Oh, hell, if the boot had been on the other foot, and Crockett hadn’t gotten to ride the final ride with a chance to beat Last, all heck would have broken loose in the arena. Crockett wouldn’t have let anybody beat him. He was still pouting over the fact that Calhoun had sold paintings before he had.

“I
could
have ridden that bull,” Last repeated, and Annette looked up at him, her chubby, pretty little face angelic and adoring. She saw her daddy as a hero, Last realized.