Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (27 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son
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Chapter Nine

“O
h, come on,” Phillip said, holding open the door of the Buffalo Creek café the next evening. “Even if Hilda held dinner back for us, she'll understand.”

Carissa shook her head, but the smile he'd been seeing all evening flashed again. “I just hate to take advantage of your sister like this,” she insisted, even as she slipped through the door. “This is the third time this week that she's babysat for me.”

He chuckled. “I'll make it up to her, I promise,
after
I eat. Besides, I feel like celebrating. I never dreamed we could find what we need at such reasonable prices.”

He felt happy, for no discernible reason. Yes, they'd found the hardware they'd been looking for, but Phillip had felt a quiet delight since he'd awakened that morning. Just knowing that he was going to spend time with Carissa had pleased him, and that pleasure had only grown throughout the evening.

“It pays to do your research,” she reminded him as he steered her toward a booth.

“It pays to have an expert doing the research,” he countered.

“I'm hardly an expert,” she demurred, sliding onto the hard seat.

“That's not what the owner of the electronics shop said,” Phillip reminded her. She deflected the compliment by looking around.

The picturesque diner, tucked into the back room of a dusty secondhand shop, featured lots of rusted, corrugated sheet metal, salvaged woods and cracked ceramics. A wholesome young waitress, costumed in overalls, her hair tied back with a bandanna, delivered menus printed on brown paper bags and water in pint jars, then trotted off to fetch iced tea while Phillip and Carissa perused their options.

Carissa chose a spinach, cheese and avocado sandwich with a side of fruit. Phillip unashamedly went for a gigantic chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, fried squash, cream gravy and biscuits. The food appeared quickly, too quickly to suit Phillip. They'd enjoyed a pleasant and productive time together. Carissa really knew her stuff, and Phillip naturally felt a certain excitement about the project, but what had him smiling, inside and out, couldn't be attributed to some possible phone app.

It was all wrong, of course. Carissa couldn't possibly be the woman for him. She needed a man who could support her and her children, someone like his brother, Asher, or his cousin Morgan, a college professor. Both were professional men with steady incomes. That type made good husbands and fathers. Didn't they?

On the other hand, not long ago his cousin Chandler hadn't been much more than a rodeo bum, and Garrett Willows, the aunties' former gardener, had been an ex-con before his pardon. They had both married and settled down happily. Everyone in the family had thought his cousin Reeves would remain a single father after his disastrous first marriage, but he'd married for a second time and seemed quite delighted with his new wife and family. Then there was his sister Petra and her carpenter husband, Dale. Phillip had expected Dallas to take a walk down the aisle one day but not ambitious, all-business Petra.

He just didn't know what to think anymore. He and Carissa had so little in common, but he felt something with her that he'd never felt with anyone else. He wasn't even sure that he liked it—even when it made him smile. She was just so prickly. He didn't think she even liked him, and maybe that was for the best. He decided to concentrate on the app for now and put the rest aside.

They finished their meal then chatted about the app and what they might do with it. He realized that he'd need to make some phone calls before they went any further. If none of the mountain-climbing guides were interested in wearing the tiny cameras that he and Carissa had found, then what would be the point in designing the application that would allow subscribers to follow the climb live?

Carissa insisted on returning to the house to be sure that the children had gotten to bed at a decent hour, even though Dallas would have made sure they had. They turned onto the drive in front of the mansion at ten minutes of nine. As the car crested the rise, however, Carissa sat up straight and let out a strangled sound. A late-model domestic luxury auto sat parked in front of the walk.

“Looks like the aunties have company,” Phillip murmured, confused by her reaction.

“Not the aunties,” she said enigmatically. She bailed out of the car before he could ask her what she meant, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Phillip hastily parked, hurried around to close the car door and followed. He found her in the front parlor with his aunts, Kent, Chester and a tanned, fit, blond couple, who looked as if they belonged in Hollywood rather than Texas.

Seated on the antique settee, the woman crossed her long, slender legs, displaying stiletto heels and a skirt both too short and too tight. She tossed a length of thick, golden hair from her slender shoulder with a bejeweled hand sporting long white-tipped fingernails and batted her false eyelashes at Phillip before smiling up at Carissa with frosty pink lips.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she purred.

Carissa audibly ground her teeth together before spitting out two words that shocked Phillip to his toes.

“Hello, Mother.”

Mother?
Phillip had to work to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. A second, closer look showed him the fine lines that no amount of cosmetics could hide or plastic surgery could erase.

“I'd have come sooner, darling, but I know how busy you are, and then, of course, there was the little matter of
locating
you.”

“My cell phone number hasn't changed,” Carissa pointed out drily.

Carissa's mother pursed her too-pouty lips. “What good would a phone call have done? You need more help than that, surely.”

Hypatia cleared her throat, looked to Carissa and gently said, “Your mother seems to be of the opinion that she should be allowed to take your two youngest children away with her.”

Carissa threw up her hands. “Oh, it's Grace
and
Tucker you want now?”

False eyelashes batted over eyes of such bright blue that they had to be the product of colored contacts. “We only want to help.”

“By taking my children? You've been offering to
help
by taking Grace since Tom died. Why is Tucker suddenly part of the plan?”

“Why not Nathan?” Phillip wanted to know, insulted on the boy's behalf. Okay, so the kid could be a tad difficult, but he'd lost his dad, his home, his grandfather. He was bound to be touchy. That didn't make him a problem child.

Carissa's mother turned to Phillip, purring, “And you are?”

Realizing belatedly that it wasn't his place to speak, Phillip shifted from one foot to the other. “Phillip Chatam.”

“Alexandra Hedgespeth.” She introduced herself with an ingratiating smile. Waving a hand at the strange man standing behind her, she said, “My husband, Leander.”

Nodding, Leander Hedgespeth leaned forward and stretched out a beefy hand. He looked to be decades younger than Alexandra, though if he kept frequenting tanning salons, no doubt it would soon be difficult to tell.

Blinded by Leander's professionally whitened smile, Phillip shook hands with the man then stepped back as Carissa baldly stated, “She doesn't want Nathan. Or Tucker. She wants Grace. She always has.”

The truth of that was written all over Alexandra's heavily made-up face. She wanted Grace with the same lust that she wanted youth and beauty. Phillip saw it but didn't understand it.

“I love my granddaughter,” Alexandra proclaimed grandly. “She's very special. But that doesn't mean I don't love my grandsons, too.”

“Oh, please.” Carissa frowned and folded her arms.

“You know she'd be happier with me,” Alexandra argued. “They all would be.” She smoothed her hair with one long-nailed hand, adding, “I just don't have room for all three of them right now.”

“And since Grace wouldn't willingly go with you on her own,” Carissa pointed out, “you thought you'd take Tucker along to entice her.”

“You can't support them, Carissa,” Alexandra accused. “Look at you! Reduced to taking charity from strangers.”

“She has family here,” Chester pointed out testily. “Where were you when the bank took the house in Dallas?”

“I've already told you that I don't have room for more than two guests,” Alexandra snapped.

“Oh, and I suppose my brother did?” Chester shot back.

“Well, if you're willing to live like dogs in a kennel...”

“Dad was willing to do anything it took,” Carissa said in a voice trembling with anger.

“Anything but live like he had an ounce of pride,” Alexandra grumbled. Odelia gasped, and Alexandra immediately backtracked, saying, “Oh, let's don't argue. I only want to help.”

“You're not taking my children,” Carissa stated firmly, “so get that idea out of your head now.”

“But you obviously can't take care of them yourself.”

“Oh, yes, she can,” Phillip refuted, stepping up behind Carissa. “She's had some tough breaks, but Carissa is a computer expert, and she's an excellent mother. She's done just fine by her kids—better than most could have under the same circumstances.”

“I have to agree,” Hypatia said. “Frankly, we expected some upset within the household when Carissa and the children moved in, but we've hardly noticed their presence.” She then turned a look on Carissa, adding, “We would actually welcome a bit more interaction.”

Carissa bowed her head. “Thank you, ma'am. I'll bear that in mind.”

Hypatia shot a loaded look at Phillip and said, “I expect you to remind her.”

He opened his mouth then shut it again, settling for a noncommittal nod.

“Well, you can't stay here indefinitely,” Alexandra pointed out.

“I should think that would be for us to decide,” Odelia said with great dignity.

“I'll only be here until I save enough to get into a place of our own,” Carissa declared. “That was always the intent.”

“You'd have had an easier time of it if you'd have let me take Grace before,” Alexandra declared.

“Never,” Carissa vowed. “Grace is my daughter, and she's going to be raised by me. Period.”

Alexandra made an exasperated sound. “Well, let me see her at least. Them, I mean. I came all this way—can't I at least see my grandchildren?”

Carissa rolled her eyes. “Mother, do you have any idea what time your grandchildren, most children in fact, go to bed?”

Alexandra rolled her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I only want to
see
them. I'm not going to wake them.”

Phillip cleared his throat, leaned in close and murmured to Carissa, quite audibly, “Perhaps she could go upstairs and just look in on them
as she's leaving.

Carissa frowned but gave in. “Oh, all right. Come on.”

Alexandra shot Phillip a pleased, conspiratorial smile as she rose sleekly to her high-heeled feet. She slunk off after Carissa, who paused only to slide Phillip a frowning glance that seemed to ask if he was coming. Surprised, he didn't immediately follow—until he realized all three of the aunties were staring at him in silent rebuke. Bowing apologetically, he set out after Carissa and her mother. Behind him, he heard Odelia offer Leander Hedgespeth a cup of tea.

“Ah, no, thank you,” he said heartily, “but I wouldn't turn down something stronger.”

At that, Phillip had to pause and look back. His aunties exchanged expressions of confusion before Odelia offered, “A soft drink, perhaps?”

It was Hedgespeth's turn for puzzlement. “Uh, actually, I was hoping...” Leander's perfectly groomed brows rose in tandem the moment he realized that no alcohol would be available. Phillip choked back a chortle and sprinted off after Carissa and her mother. He caught them at the bend in the stairs. Alexandra was quietly haranguing Carissa about Grace.

“You know I can give her everything she wants.”

“Children shouldn't have everything they want.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What I don't know is why you want her. It's not like you wanted me or even Lyla.”

“That's not true.”

“Couldn't prove it by me.”

“Besides, it's not for me.”

“Well, it's certainly not for her because you know that Grace doesn't want to live with you.”

“She would if you'd stop tearing me down to her.”

Carissa rolled her eyes. “You'd be amazed how rarely we discuss you, Mother.”

“What about your husband?” Phillip heard himself ask. “How does he feel about raising a child?”

Alexandra stopped dead in her tracks right at the top of the stairs and swallowed, straining her too-taut throat, before she broke into a wide smile, her false eyelashes batting rapidly. “Leander would like to be a father, now that you mention it, and he would be a good one, too. No concerns there.”

She stepped onto the landing and swept past Carissa, who hung back long enough to look at Phillip and mutter, “Finally, I get what's going on here.”

Phillip could only shake his head. Obviously, all Alexandra Hedgespeth cared about was keeping her much younger husband happy. It was doubtful the couple could easily adopt, given the difference in their ages. Well, he would never allow that woman or anyone else to take Carissa's child from her. Never. He didn't question or examine that determination. It simply
was.
Clapping a supportive hand on Carissa's shoulder, he followed her onto the landing and then along the left side of the landing to the master suite in the corner.

As soon as they came through the door into the sitting room, Dallas rose from the sofa, greeted everyone with a nod, shook hands with Alexandra, whom Carissa introduced as her mother, and watched in some confusion as Carissa led Alexandra through the back hallway and into the children's rooms. Phillip whispered that he'd explain later, then he followed Carissa and her mother, while Dallas left the suite.

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