Shotgun Vows (6 page)

“I'll be there,” she said. “Thanks for asking.” Her voice drifted to him. When had it turned so sweet and musical that she could play his insides like a violin?

“Hey, look who's here. How's it going, Dawson?” Bobby Lee stuck his hand out.

Dawson took it as he glared at the four ranch hands gathered around Mattie. “What's going on?” he asked.

Bobby Lee frowned. “Not much. How about you? Something wrong? You look like someone kicked your dog and stole your favorite horse, partner.”

Mattie turned to look at him. If it hadn't been for the legs that had haunted him, he probably wouldn't have recognized her. Her hair! It hung silky, sexy and loose around her face in a very flattering style. Her eyes looked bigger and grayer than he'd ever noticed before. And she was wearing lipstick! He felt like he'd been jabbed in the gut with a two-by-four, knocking the air from his lungs.

Mattie Fortune was beautiful.

When he could take his eyes off her, he got a better look at all the cowboys who were drooling over her.

“Hi, Dawson. What are you doing here?” she asked, watching him carefully.

Pull it together,
he told himself. He would give her the same story he'd used at the house when he'd arrived. “I needed a ride to clear my head.”

“That's a wonderful idea,” she said. “You spend way too much time indoors playing with your numbers.”

He wanted to shoot back a clever rejoinder. But he looked at the stunning woman before him and couldn't
form a coherent thought, let alone a witty retort. And in any case, it would be a lie. No matter how much he might want it to be so, she wasn't a child. She was exactly what she'd been saying she was—a full-grown woman.

Bobby Lee shuffled his feet. “Pete, why don't you go on into the barn and saddle up Chloe for Dawson?”

A dark-haired, blue-eyed cowboy shook his head, then slid a glance to Mattie. “I'm on my break, boss. Why don't you get Ricky to do it?”

“Can't.” The young man looked about sixteen and wore a hat almost as big as he was. “Sprained my wrist. Remember?”

Bobby Lee looked around. “How about you, Will?”

The lanky cowboy shook his head. “Chloe hates my guts. Kept trying to nip me last time I tried to saddle her.”

“She knows you don't like her,” Mattie said.

It was as if they were circling the wagons around her. He was the guy in the black hat who planned to carry her off.
Not in this lifetime.
Besides that, Dawson suspected no one wanted to leave and get cut from the herd. This assignment to watch over her had somehow slipped from his control. That was unacceptable. Dawson knew he had to do something to get her away from them.

When he couldn't come up with anything that didn't make him look like a jerk, he decided to go saddle his own horse. He would take his sweet time and hope their breaks were over when he was through. Or that he had a plan to put her ladyship safely under his guard.

“Thanks all the same, fellas. But I can saddle
Chloe. Mattie likes to joke about my job. But the truth is, I've been riding for years on the Double Crown, and Chloe actually likes me.” He gave the group of them the same look he'd used to keep the prowling cowboys at the Watering Hole away from Mattie. He prayed it would have the same result.

He moved past the group and headed to the barn. Moments later he heard footsteps behind him.

“Dawson? Wait up.”

Mattie. He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned. “What?”

“I'm coming with you. Chloe was favoring her back leg the last time you rode her—that day we took the schoolkids riding. I checked her, but want to give it a look.”

“Okay.” He looked over her head and didn't miss the dark looks sent his way. He wished he could tell the cowboys that when his assignment was done, they were all welcome to try their luck with Mattie—and her brother Griff. But not a day sooner.

They entered the barn, and Dawson allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimness. That only seemed to enhance his other senses. Over the scents of hay and horses, he didn't miss Mattie's fragrance. As she lifted the horse's leg for a look-see, he worked on getting his galloping pulse under control. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place. He was the scum of the earth for what he was thinking about her. He wanted her. But although she looked like a grown woman, she was still way too young for him—a big clue that he needed some distance. Yet he couldn't back off and let anyone else move in. Not until Griff was back.

“Would you mind if I rode with you?” Mattie asked, looking up at him.

“Not at all,” he answered. His prayer was answered. He could keep her under his watchful eye without making her suspicious of his motives. “Why?”

“I can't find anything wrong with her, but I want to watch her walk.”

“Okay. You can come.” Odd. He was annoyed that her reason was the horse and not a desire to be with him.

But it was good news that she would be away from the lecherous cowboys and safe with him. The bad news was that she would be with him. Safe? He couldn't swear to it. Not when he had to look into her beautiful face and pretend he couldn't care less.

The best way to handle this was to make her believe he hadn't noticed the change in her. Besides, once he got used to it, surely the feelings would go away.

“Last one in the saddle is a rotten egg,” he said.

“You're on.”

Her sudden, sunny, stunning smile would have knocked him out of the saddle if he'd already been in one. He was brighter than the average bear, but it didn't take a mental giant to see that this was a really bad idea.

“H
ow nice that you can stay for dinner, Dawson.” Aunt Lily smiled at him.

“I appreciate the invitation. Not to mention the effervescent, charming company,” he answered.

Mattie realized her own feelings echoed her aunt's words, but her reasons were quite different. She and Dawson had ridden all afternoon, which normally would have put her in a wonderful mood—the riding, the fresh air, the horses. Except for the company.

Dawson Prescott unsettled her too much to produce anything even close to peace of mind. But now they were cleaned up and visiting in the great room. Her aunt sat on the sofa facing the hearth, and she and Dawson occupied chairs across from each other with a coffee table between them. A crackling blaze filled the fireplace.

Mattie felt a little crackly herself, and just a bit hot, maybe enough to spit sparks. She had spent hours with Dawson and he hadn't mentioned a single word about the difference in her appearance. Maybe he thought she looked better the other way. If he did, he was the only one, because everyone else had given her a thumbs-up on the new look. Some of the ranch hands had snapped their heads around so fast for a double take, she wondered if the local chiropractor had an epidemic of whiplash on his hands.

She grinned at the thought, but it faded fast. For some reason she didn't understand, Dawson's vote on her change carried more weight than anyone else's—probably because he'd given her such a hard time about looking like a kid. Since he was hanging around for supper, she might be able to coerce a confession from him that she looked grown-up now.

“I think Dawson has an ulterior motive for staying to dinner, Aunt Lily,” Mattie said to her aunt. “Something that has nothing to do with the Fortune charm or effervescence. He told me this afternoon that his house is being redecorated, and he can't stand the chaos.”

“Then by all means, you must stay,” Lily said to him.

“Thank you, Lily,” he said, shooting a look at Mattie that said, loudly and clearly, he wished she would mind her own business.

She just smiled smugly at him.

“You're very welcome, Dawson. In fact, if you need to move in for a while, please feel free. After all, that's why Willa is here. Thank goodness for that, or we wouldn't have the pleasure of her company. And we'd love to have the pleasure of yours.” Before Mattie could speak for herself, her aunt continued, “Except tonight it's just Mattie who will have the job of entertaining you.”

“What?” Mattie asked.

Her and her big mouth. She had just been having a little fun at Dawson's expense. Now he practically had an engraved invitation to move in. But she figured he wouldn't do it. After all, she was here and her presence would no doubt discourage him. Although, she had to admit, she had seen more of him in the last
four days than she had since her arrival in Texas a few months before.

“Why just me?” she asked.

“We're taking Willa to that new restaurant in San Antonio and to the theater. There's a touring company in town. She's upstairs getting ready now. If it were just Ryan and me, we would cancel. But Willa—”

“Don't change your plans on my account,” Dawson said. “I've heard that the show is good. Go. Have a wonderful time.”

“If you're sure,” she said doubtfully.

“I'd feel terrible if you canceled on my account.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.

“All right, then. And actually, I'm glad you'll be here to keep Mattie company.” Lily sent him a grateful look. “I was feeling horribly guilty about leaving her alone.”

There was amusement in Dawson's eyes when he looked her way, and Mattie had the urge to duck and run for cover. She knew there was a zinger in her near future.

“I'll make sure Mattie doesn't get into any trouble while you're gone,” he said. “I don't mind baby-sitting.”

Zinger, as expected. Sometimes Mattie hated when she was right. “I may be young, Dawson, but at least I wasn't raised by wolves. I'm well aware that it's not polite to talk in front of people as if they're not in the room.” Mattie glanced apologetically at her aunt. “No offense, Aunt Lily. I didn't mean you.”

“None taken, dear.”

Dawson leaned back in his chair and rested one ankle across the opposite knee—a supremely confident
pose. And very male. “Actually, I'm from the children-should-be-seen-and-not-heard school of child rearing,” he shot back at her.

“You don't say,” Mattie answered.
Awesome comeback, Mattie,
she said to herself.
Guess you told him, but good.
Her only excuse for dull wit was the annoying fluttering of her heart. It had started when Dawson assumed that masculine pose in the chair. It continued no matter how he moved, and wouldn't let up. Apparently she was experiencing lack of blood flow to the brain.

Dawson gave her a small—and, she thought, pitying—smile, then met her aunt's gaze again. “I'm glad to be of service in the chaperone department. Kids these days,” he said shaking his head. “Can't be too careful. She might throw a wild party while the folks are gone.”

Mattie considered it a moral victory that she didn't choke him. So much for making him see her as a woman. How could she get him to stop treating her like a child? What was it going to take to get his attention?

Lily laughed. “I'm sure Mattie can take care of herself. We offered to get her a ticket to the play, but she wasn't interested. But with you here, I won't feel so concerned about leaving her alone. Clint Lockhart is still on the loose after that shocking prison escape, and we can't take any chances.”

“No worries, Aunt Lily. Dawson and I will take good care of the place while you're gone.” She glared at him again, in case he'd missed the last one. “And no wild parties, I promise.”

“Hello, everyone.” Uncle Ryan walked into the great room with Willa on his left arm. He wore a char
coal-colored suit with a crisp white shirt and red tie. His goddaughter had on a black dress that seemed to hug her slender body like a second skin. “I found this sweet young thing in the hall upstairs, and she allowed me to escort her down.”

“Hello, Dawson. Mattie,” Willa said, blushing at Ryan's compliment.

She raised one eyebrow, and Mattie knew what she was asking. Had anyone noticed her new look? Just everyone but Dawson! she wanted to shout. Instead, she angled her head toward him and surreptitiously shook her head at her friend. Willa's mouth thinned as she frowned at him.

Mattie glanced at Dawson to see if he'd noticed, and caught him looking Willa over. Since his gaze went from her neckline to the hem of that
va-va-voom
dress, she figured he'd missed the other woman's disapproval. Her heart fell when she saw the definite gleam in his hazel eyes.

Blockhead,
she thought. Apparently he was immune to the many faces of Mattie Fortune. It didn't make much difference whether it was the old outback look or the new and improved Texas temptress. He couldn't care less. The depth of her disappointment surprised her. Did she really give a darn what he thought of her?

Lily walked over to her husband and kissed his lean cheek. “You look wonderful, dear,” she said.

“Not as wonderful as you, darling. You take my breath away.” He took in her appearance, the red dress that showed a subtle amount of cleavage yet still managed to look sexy. “I will be the envy of every man who sees us tonight, escorting these two beautiful women.”

“I envy you,” Dawson said fervently.

Ryan met Mattie's gaze. “If you were going, I would need a whip and a chair to protect you from all the men, Mattie. I can't believe the difference in you.”

Her cheeks grew warm. “Thank you, Uncle Ryan. You're very kind.”

“No, I'm not that nice. Just honest. If I had more time, I would continue to sing your praises.” He looked at his wife. “But time's a wastin'. Your carriage awaits, my lovely,” he said, smiling at her.

“I'll tell you all about it, Mattie,” Willa promised.

“Make yourselves at home, you two,” Lily said. Ryan held out his arm, and her aunt slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow. A true gentleman, he escorted both women from the room.

Mattie sighed. Just like a fairy tale, she thought. Some day her soul mate would hold out his arm to her. He'd be a man who would notice and appreciate the trouble she went through to look nice for him. A man who didn't have his head buried in mathematical formulas and spreadsheets. A man who would be aware of the people around him and the changes they made.

When they were alone, she said to Dawson, “I'm starved. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yup. Lead the way.”

She did, and found Rosita Perez in the kitchen, fussing over a salad and corn bread she'd made to go with the pot of chili bubbling on the stove.

Mattie stood behind her and sniffed. “That smells wonderful, Rosita. You must give me the recipe.”

“You, niña? You can cook?” The Mexican woman smiled fondly at her, taking any real or implied sting from her words.

“Could if I had to,” she said, aware that it was a
childish comeback. Dawson already thought she was just a kid; she might as well give him reason.

She broke off a corner of the bread and closed her eyes at the heavenly taste and the way it melted in her mouth. “If I live to be a hundred, I don't think I could ever learn to make anything this good.”

“I was just—how do you say?—busting your chops,” Rosita said, patting her arm. “You can cook. If you find a man that you care enough about to please, you would take the time.” She glanced coyly at Dawson.

Mattie wouldn't hurt the woman's feelings by telling her it would be a cold day in hell before she would search for the way to Dawson's heart. In fact, she had some serious doubts about whether or not he had one. In any case, she refused to look at him. No doubt Rosita's remark had generated that infuriatingly amused expression on his face.

The housekeeper wiped her hands on her apron. “Everything is ready. I'll serve dinner for you two in the dining room now.”

“Since it is just the two of us, we can eat in the kitchen. Right, Dawson?” Mattie glanced at him then.

“Fine,” he said.

He stood a couple of paces behind her with his fingertips tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The long sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to just below the elbow. When her gaze lifted higher, she noticed several dark chest hairs peeking past the button closest to his neck. He looked so sexy, her heart was kicked into a trot. She wished she could get him to notice her in the same way. Just once. But she had a better chance of flapping her arms and flying to the moon.

“Kitchen it is,” she said, looking down at Rosita.
“And I think you should go home to your husband. Take him some of this wonderful dinner. Although I'm sure you won his heart a long time ago, it can't hurt to remind him. You'll have him wrapped around your pinkie as quick as you can say ‘chili con carne.'”

“I don't know,” Rosita answered, looking doubtful.

“Mattie's right,” Dawson said. “We can clean this up. Enjoy your evening with your husband.”

“Sí, señor. If you're sure.”

“Absolutely positive,” he said. “After all, I'm a guest. Mattie's going to do all the dishes.”

Mattie shook her head, disgusted at herself. She was slipping; she hadn't seen that zinger coming. But he wouldn't get away with it. “The night is young. Anything can happen,” she said mysteriously.

Rosita chuckled as she hung her apron on the hook in the pantry and grabbed her sweater and purse. “Señorita Matilda, you go, girl.”

“No worries,” she answered, chuckling at the older woman's comment. “I'll keep him honest.”

If she hadn't been looking directly at him, Mattie never would have seen the odd expression that crossed Dawson's face at her casual remark. Was he being less than honest about something? Could it be his nonchalance about her new look? Maybe he really had noticed and was pretending not to. Although, why he would do that was beyond her. But two could play that game.

They said good-night to the housekeeper and watched through the kitchen window as she got into her car. Then Mattie realized they were completely alone in the house. No horses to ride. No cowboys to talk to. No numbers to crunch. Just Dawson and her. Let him try to ignore her now.

It was pride, pure and simple. She tried not to remember her uncle's remark about pride before a fall. Because, by gum, she would get his attention or die trying. Even the cowboys on the ranch had finally taken notice of her new haircut and makeup. They even invited her back to the poker game. That was a step in the right direction to finding her soul mate. Now if she could only figure out why it was such a badge of honor to get Dawson to recognize her as a woman.

They were in the kitchen. She could turn the heat up a degree or two. And she knew just how to go about it. She'd put on her best brown corduroy bib overalls and the cap-sleeved T-shirt that Jillian had said showed off her toned arms. Mattie decided to undo one strap. She'd seen the look in a magazine, and had the urge to see what Mr. Stuffed Shirt would do.

In Dawson's case, the term
stuffed shirt
was apt. Because his shirt was stuffed with some pretty nice muscles. When he wasn't wearing one of those expensive suits, she could almost picture him herding cattle or working with the horses. The things that thought did to her heart rate could revolutionize cardiac care, she decided.

While Dawson started setting the table, Mattie casually unhooked one side of her overalls and let the strap and attached metal hook hang down. Half of the bib folded over, revealing the curve of her breast encased in T-shirt. Before she could see his reaction, the front doorbell rang.

“I'll get it,” he said.