Ultimate Texas Bachelor (15 page)

Had she started out telling Lewis and then Brad what she had come to the ranch to find out, Brad never would have spoken to her and Lewis certainly never would have hired her or invited her to stay at the Lazy M with Petey.

Instead, she had let Brad goad her into matching wits with him, and once the sparks had started flying between them, well…it had been as impossible for her to stay away from him as it was for Brad to stay away from her.

And once she had started falling in love with him, the stakes had increased even more.

She'd signed a contract…and Lainey did not make promises she did not intend to keep.

And yet writing a story about Brad and Yvonne and why they really broke up was not something she wanted to do without his permission and approval. But how was she going to get that now…after all that had happened? He was going to think she was just like Yvonne. Pretending to be something—someone—she wasn't.

And worse, he would be right.

How in the world had she ever gotten herself in such a mess?

Despite everything, she didn't regret for one minute loving Brad, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Brad's glance softened. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Your work for Lewis has nothing to do with my relationship with you,” he soothed, still completely misunderstanding the reason for the conflict within her.

“I know that. It's just…” She gulped and started as the sound of a pickup truck rumbled through the driveway.

Brad and Lainey exchanged looks as they realized they were no longer alone. He moved to the window, standing buck naked just inside the curtains, and peered out. “What the…?” He cursed.

Lainey, who knew they couldn't get caught in bed together, was already pulling on her clothes. Brad had enough scandal in his life without adding public knowledge of a dalliance with her to the mix. The truth-telling was going to have to wait until later.

“Who is it?” she demanded, aware she was so distressed her hands were shaking and her knees felt wobbly.

“A girl I used to date.”

Lainey blinked, not sure she was ready for this. “Recently?”

“In high school,” Brad explained with a frown. “Her parents still live in Laramie but she moved to Dallas after she married and I haven't seen her in…years. She's with her husband. I only know him slightly—he's not from around here— I met him at their wedding.”

Lainey blinked and momentarily stopped what she was doing. “You're kidding.”

Brad gave her a deadpan look and then went back to observing. “They're headed for the front porch and they both look madder than wet hens.” He shook his head, as if his life had gotten so crazy post–
Bachelor Bliss
that he almost expected the sky to fall in, too. “This ought to be interesting,” he muttered. “'Cause I have a feeling they aren't looking for Lewis.”

Downstairs, someone pounded on the front door—rather furiously, Lainey noted.

Brad opened the window a crack and shouted out, “Hold your horses! I'll be right down!”

Lainey finished dressing as hurriedly as she could, pausing to run a brush through her hair. To no avail. Her lipstick had been kissed off. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, nose red from crying. She was, quite frankly, a mess, she noted as she put the clip back in her hair.

“You don't have to go down there,” he said, hurriedly tucking his shirttail into his jeans.

Lainey shook her head. “If I hide, it'll be worse. Everyone in town knows I'm working out here, and that includes her parents. Hence, they are going to expect to see me.” She slipped on her red cowgirl boots. “Do I look like I've just made love with you?” she whispered as the pounding on the front door resumed, even more furiously.

Brad paused to kiss the tip of her nose and rub his thumb across her lips. He looked as if he wanted to make love to her all over again.

“Only to me.” He took her by the hand. “Let's go.”

Lainey went to the kitchen to finish making the coffee she had started assembling earlier, while Brad hurried to the front door.

Both tried to act normal as Brad ushered Melinda Farren, née Evans, and her husband Clint Farren inside. Slim, nicely dressed, with shining blunt-cut blond hair, she could have been Lainey's twin—from the back, anyway. Which was the problem, they quickly figured out as Clint thrust what looked to be a tabloid into Brad's hands.

Lainey stood in the front hall, dish towel in hand, aware she was demonstrating remarkable composure given the fact she had just spent half the morning making love with Laramie's resident heartbreaking bad boy. But maybe that was because Brad had a way of making her feel so loved and cherished, despite the fact he had never once said the words to her.

“Hey, Melinda. Hi, Clint,” she said pleasantly, resolved she would not add to the scandal sweeping Brad's life. “What's going on?”

“I'm on the cover of a tabloid!” Melinda wailed.

Lainey blinked. “How did that happen?”

Melinda pointed at Brad. “Ask him!”

Lainey looked at the cover. There was a picture of Brad and Melinda back in high school, going to some prom, and then another of two people kissing, presumably now. It was
Brad, all right, in the photo, but all you could see of the woman was the back of a head. The caption above it read,
Yvonne Rathbone tells all! Brad McCabe involved with married high school sweetheart all along!

“Well, obviously the kissing photo's a fake,” Lainey said, studying it closely. “In fact, it looks like one of the publicity photos for
Bachelor Bliss
with another head superimposed where one of the contestants was.” She ought to know—she had the picture stored on her computer, along with dozens of others. They were in her “Research” file. “See?” Lainey pointed to the mystery woman in question. “This looks like a wig.”

“The whole story's a fake!” Brad growled.

“We know that!” Clint and Melinda said in unison.

“I don't appreciate my wife being dragged into your problems, her reputation ruined,” Clint growled. He went chin to chin with Brad.

“I don't, either,” Brad said soberly. Sympathy was in his eyes even as he looked at Clint. When Clint relaxed slightly, Brad turned to Melinda. “I'm sorry, Melinda. I'll contact my attorney, Claire McCabe Taylor, and have her demand a retraction and an apology immediately.”

“Well, you better do something,” Melinda fumed, crossing her arms. “Because I am
not
amused by this. And neither is my family!”

Brad's temper flared. “You think
I
am?” he fired back.

Clint and Melinda stared at Brad. Brad stared back. Then the fight went out of the couple. Brad apologized again, promising to take swift action. The couple, realizing now that Brad had nothing to do with it and was as upset as they were, thanked him and left. But not before Clint Farren offered these parting words: “You better do something to straighten out your life, Brad, or you're liable to drag everyone you know down with you!”

 

“C
LINT'S RIGHT, YOU KNOW
,” Lainey said as she and Brad retired to the ranch house kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. She sat down at the table opposite him. “The situation is only going to get worse unless you come forward and tell your story.”

Brad settled more comfortably in his chair. His knees brushed hers beneath the table. “As much as I'd like to, I can't.”

She allowed herself a moment to savor the warmth and strength of those denim-clad knees against her own. Aware how close she had come to confessing everything to him in a most ill-thought-out way, she struggled to regain her own equilibrium. Theirs was a situation neither could have predicted. It was going to take careful handling if she didn't want to lose everything—for both of them. And right now, despite how guilty she felt, that was much too high a price to pay.

“Haven't you heard?” she quipped lightly, trying once again to get Brad to do what needed to be done. She looked him straight in the eye. “The truth will set you free.”

And that was, after all, why she had first shown up at the ranch. To track down Brad and help him set the record straight once and for all and get his reputation—and his life—back.

Brad's jaw set in that stubborn way she knew so well. “There's no guarantee anyone would believe me, even if I confessed what happened between me and Yvonne.”

“You don't know that,” she said.

“Haven't you noticed? Yvonne is quite the actress.”

Except, Lainey thought uncomfortably, when Yvonne was being interviewed she always appeared to be speaking from her heart.

Which meant, unless Yvonne suddenly was hit with an attack of conscience and confessed all, it would be a “he said, she said” situation. At this late date, it might look as if Brad were trashing Yvonne publicly out of revenge. That wouldn't
help him at all. It would only muddy the waters more. And continue to hurt his reputation.

“No,” Brad continued, oblivious to Lainey's thoughts. “The safest way is to proceed through my lawyer, demand a retraction and clarification from the tabloid. Threaten to sue if they don't do the right thing.”

“That would take weeks or months to resolve, and in the meantime, lies about you will be spread, your reputation further ruined. You started out a cad, Brad. Now you're a cheating cad,” she summed up guiltily, feeling more incompetent than ever. If she had been able to keep her emotions in check, she might have been able to convince Brad to cooperate with
Personalities.
Instead, she had painted herself into a moral corner from which there seemed to be no escape.

Crying about it wouldn't help.

Action would.

She had to put her own selfish considerations aside and help him see reason. “What's next for you except more of a downhill slide?”

Brad quaffed the rest of his coffee and got up to roam the kitchen restlessly. “You don't know what you're talking about,” he accused.

“Oh, yes, I do.” Lainey watched him pour more coffee for both of them. “My father worked as a mechanic in San Angelo when I was a kid.” Able to see Brad was listening, albeit reluctantly, she continued talking about what she never discussed.

“Tools and parts were being stolen from the garage where he worked, and my dad was framed. He got fired. The owner agreed not to press criminal charges because he felt sorry for my mom and me, but he put the word out that my dad was not to be trusted, and my dad could not get another job because of the allegations. He went on unemployment compensation and when that ran out, he did odd jobs here and there, some janitorial work. But he never got over it, and his
attitude on life soured. My mom and dad ended up splitting up because my mom never understood why my dad wouldn't fight to get back what he had lost. My dad died a bitter, disillusioned man.” She took Brad's hand. “I can see the same thing happening to you, Brad. False allegations and assumptions like that wear on a person. They rob you of your spirit and your joy.”

“I'm sorry your dad and your family had such a rough time,” said Brad. “But our situations are not the same, Lainey. I'm already moving on. I've got work. And I don't give a damn what strangers think of me. The people in Laramie know what's true.”

“You're kidding yourself.” Lainey had seen the look on his face when confronted with the latest tabloid lies about himself, the hurt it was causing the other people in his life. As long as the mystery remained…as long as Yvonne kept flaming the fires to fuel her own need for publicity, then it was never going to stop. Long after national interest died, the curiosity of the locals would remain. The citizens of Laramie were too kind, too protective, to ask Brad about it. But they would always wonder what had happened to cause such a scandal. And Brad would know they were wondering why he had behaved the ungentlemanly way he had on TV. The stigma would eat him alive, just the way it had her father, whether Brad wanted to admit it or not.

“You can't go on this way,” she reiterated firmly. His need for the truth had put her in reporter gear again. If he would let her, Lainey knew that she could help him.

“It's not your decision to make. It's mine.”

Despite his bullheadedness, Lainey would be damned if she'd see Brad McCabe end up as bitter and disillusioned and heart-broken as her own father. She had one more ace up her sleeve to get him to tell all. “So you're not going to tell me the truth about what happened between you and Yvonne, either?” she surmised softly. With a confident smile, she sat back in her chair, lifted her chin and continued. “Never mind. I think I can guess.”

Brad smirked, not believing her for one red-hot second. “No. You can't,” he replied, just as implacably.

“Want to bet?”

“Here's what I think happened.” Lainey leaned forward, looking deep into Brad's eyes. “I think you signed on for
Bachelor Bliss
, expecting everything to be on the up-and-up, and hoping to find the right woman for you. Instead, from the very beginning, things just weren't quite right, and there were subtle but unmistakable signs this was so.”

Brad stiffened, letting her know she had struck a nerve, and she pushed on. “Yvonne appeared to have special treatment from the show's creator, Gil Hewitt. Plus, she seemed to know things about you that she would have had no way of knowing. And while you no doubt noted this, you were too caught up in taping the show, and playing all the games the producers of
Bachelor Bliss
had you play, to dwell on it. Until that fateful moment of clarity, when, as you said, you realized Yvonne was not who she was pretending to be. My question is—” she paused to let her words sink in “—what happened to help you connect the dots? Yvonne has been running around accusing you of cheating on her, but I don't think that's true. I think maybe the
reverse
may have been true. So what really happened, Brad? Did you think Yvonne had eyes only for you and then discover she had someone on the side?”

Bull's-eye.

“Worse,” he said, finally giving in with a weary sigh. He shoved a hand through his hair, looking ready to confide his
troubles to her at long last. Seeming to need her to be not just his lover but his friend. “I caught her in bed with someone.”

Lainey could imagine how much that would hurt a man of Brad McCabe's strength and pride. “Gil Hewitt, the show's creator,” she guessed, figuring Yvonne was the kind of woman who would gladly hit the casting couch, so to speak, if it meant she emerged the grand-prize winner.

“Yes,” Brad admitted reluctantly. Lips pressed together grimly, he continued. “Fifteen minutes before the final taping was to begin, I got a note from Yvonne asking me to meet her in one of the mansion bedrooms. And she was there with Gil Hewitt, in the throes of—well, you can guess.”

How awful. Lainey reached across the table and took his hand. She tightened her fingers on his. “Was anyone else around to witness this?”

“Nope, just the three of us.” Brad cupped her hand between both of his. He looked at her evenly. “It was obvious they had set me up to get a big emotional reaction from me, although I don't think they were sure what I was going to do during the taping. And that uncertainty added an extra element of excitement.” His tone took on a bitter, sarcastic edge.

Lainey's heart went out to him. It was terrible enough to live through something like that, but to have the cameras on him in the immediate aftermath… Rumors swirling. His reputation maligned. “I'm surprised you didn't just walk out,” she said sympathetically.

Brad laughed—a short, humorless sound. “I tried, but the producers caught me going out the door and threatened to sue me for five million dollars if I didn't get back in my tuxedo and honor my contract with the show.”

Lainey remembered how tense the final Heart Ceremony had been. With Brad staring at Yvonne like he detested her, refusing to deliver the proposal that she—and all the viewers—were expecting. Then simply telling Yvonne it wasn't going to work out, taking off his microphone and walking out.
Under the circumstances, she doubted most men could have been even that gallant. “Did you tell the producers what had happened to make you want to bolt?”

Brad let go of her hand. “No. I didn't tell anyone.”

“Why not?” Lainey asked, curious.

He stood, roamed the kitchen restlessly. “Obviously, you've never been cheated on.” He stared out the window, at the pasture where Tabasco Red was peacefully grazing.

Lainey hadn't.

Brad ruminated in a voice laced with hurt. “Your first response is disbelief and anger and humiliation, and all you—all I—wanted to do was get the hell out of there. And never see or speak to Yvonne again.”

Lainey certainly couldn't blame him for that. “You weren't mad at Gil Hewitt?”

Brad swung around. “Sure, I was ticked off, but I'm not sure, in retrospect, that I was really jealous. The whole time I was paired up with Yvonne, I had this feeling that the situation was more make-believe than real, that things were just a little too perfect. There was nothing concrete that would have made me feel that way. Just a lot of little things that triggered an uneasy feeling in my gut. When I found her with Gil, I finally had confirmation that it wasn't my imagination—there really was some reason why I kept thinking I shouldn't trust her.”

Lainey knew about gut reactions to people. Her feminine instincts had told her she could trust and believe in Brad from the first moment they had come face-to-face with each other on the Lazy M.

Brad studied her carefully. “No one else has come close to guessing what happened. How is it you know all this?”

Lainey swallowed. The same instinct that had told her she could trust Brad told her this was not the time to confess she was a reporter. She got up and went to stand beside him at the window. She wanted to deepen—not sever—their intimate
emotional connection. “I've puzzled over this a lot—first and foremost, because I want to understand you,” she said softly. “And what happened on
Bachelor Bliss
obviously devastated you.”

“You're very observant.”

Lainey shrugged. “You already know I watched the show while it was airing. Since we met up again here at the ranch, I've been paying even more attention to you, listening to everything you've said about your experiences on
Bachelor Bliss
as well as everything you haven't said.”

“I never said anything about the show's creator, Gil Hewitt,” Brad pointed out, a tad suspiciously.

But Yvonne had. And Lainey had met and interviewed Gil. Treading carefully—she didn't want to alienate or hurt Brad now—she said, “A lot has been written about the breakup and the show. I know how to use the search engines on the Internet. I've been doing a little research on my own.”

Brad narrowed his eyes at her. “You're that curious?”

“I want to help you that badly,” she corrected.

Brad slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “At least now you must see why I don't want the real story to come out,” he stated in a low voice.

“Because you're embarrassed.”

He smirked. “As well as humiliated, cuckolded, duped, and made a complete and utter fool of.”

Lainey could see where that would severely dent the famous McCabe pride. “So you would rather be portrayed as the villain?”

Brad shrugged, some of the walls going up again. “I would rather not be portrayed as anything at all,” he stated irritably.

“But the media
is
portraying you,” she pointed out.

He turned and looked her in the eye. “It'll fade. A person's fifteen minutes of fame always does.”

And if it didn't, Lainey wondered, then what? “What about the people who are still signing up for the show?” she asked
quietly, taking another tack to persuade Brad to do what had to be done if he was ever going to be free to live his life again the way he deserved. “Have you given any thought to future contestants and what they might end up going through, because you're too self-centered and cowardly to own up to the truth?”

Her words stung.

He lifted a brow, echoing, “Self-centered…and cowardly?”

“Sound a little harsh?”

Brad nodded, his expression grim. “And then some.”

“But true. Think about those poor young women, Brad, the ones who aren't like Yvonne. Who just want to find some guy to love them.”

“Or be on TV,” Brad countered.

Lainey stepped closer, persisting. “Think about the guys signing up to find the woman of their dreams and having their reputations ruined. It's a travesty.” She took both his hands in hers, gripped them hard. “You could set people straight. Prevent it from ever happening again. Or at least make it so anyone who entered the competition on
Bachelor Bliss
would know exactly what they were getting into.”

 

L
AINEY'S WORDS STAYED
with Brad throughout the day. He had told her before he'd headed out to do ranch work that he would think about what she had said, and he was still thinking about it when Lewis and Petey arrived home that day. Annie, Travis and their five boys arrived shortly after that. By the time Brad got cleaned up and entered the ranch house kitchen, the adults were congregated around the appetizers on the kitchen table, while the three younger kids played outside on the tire-swings Brad had put up beneath the shade trees next to the house.

Talk, not surprisingly, centered on the erroneous tabloid story about him and Melinda.

“What are you doing about it?” Travis asked Brad.

Brad shrugged. He had hoped to talk to Lainey about his decision privately first. “My attorney fired off a letter to the publishers this morning, threatening a lawsuit.”

“And—?” Annie asked, all motherly concern.

“We're still waiting to hear back,” he admitted. He helped himself to salsa and tortilla chips.

“Did you speak to Yvonne Rathbone about her comments?” Lewis asked, digging into the bite-size tamales.

Brad shook his head.

“Shouldn't you be suing her, too, if what she said about you wasn't true?” Annie asked.

The last thing Brad wanted to do was get in a legal fight with Yvonne Rathbone. He'd be happy if he never saw or heard from her again.

“I'll tell you what I think,” Lewis said. “I think you should tell your side of the story once and for all. And I'll tell you what else—” He gulped some mint-flavored iced tea. “If I knew what had happened, I'd put the information out there, even if you got mad at me temporarily.”

“But you don't have the information,” Brad said, warning his younger brother with a look. “So don't go messing in my life.”

“What do you think, Lainey?” Teddy asked, seeming older than his twenty years.

“Do you think Brad should tell all?” Tyler inquired.

“Or keep whatever happened to himself?” Trevor put in.

Brad glanced at Lainey, curious as to what she was going to say. He knew she wouldn't tell what he had reluctantly confided this morning. She had sworn she would never give out that information without his permission, and thus far, he hadn't given it.

“When I think of Brad's situation, I think of my father's situation, when he was alive,” Lainey said quietly, after a moment. “He, too, was a victim of character assassination.
And he, too, chose to hold his own counsel and not fight. He figured the people that knew and loved him would realize the truth, and those that didn't might not ever believe him anyway.” She paused and looked at Brad. “I was just a kid then. I didn't have the means to help him, even if I had wanted to do so.”

“And if you had possessed the means?” Lewis asked.

Lainey paused again, her gaze still locked fiercely with Brad's. “You never know, but I would hope I'd have the courage to do whatever needed to be done to help the truth come out.”

 

“T
RYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING
in there?” Brad asked as he helped Lainey put the chicken on the grill. The rest of the adults would join them shortly, but for the moment everyone was still inside, polishing off the array of Tex-Mex appetizers Lainey had prepared.

“Only that I care deeply about you, and what happens to you,” she said quietly. “And I hope you will always remember that—” she briefly touched the region of his heart “—in here.”

Brad did. And yet…once again he had the feeling that something was wrong. That Lainey was bracing for something bad, and trying to prepare him, as well. Though what that could be…

“Mommy?” Petey ran over to Lainey's side. “How come that guy is taking pictures of us?”

Lainey and Brad looked in the direction Petey was pointing.

Brad scowled. It was the same guy in tourist garb that had been photographing him and Lainey in the grocery store the previous week. Now he had pulled his car to the side of the road and was using a camera with a long telephoto lens.

“Stay here!” Brad ordered Lainey and Petey. He started off at a run.

The interloper put down his camera, jumped in his car and drove off in a cloud of dust.

Brad came back. Fuming.

“Who was that?” Petey demanded in concern.

“No one we know,” Lainey said. Although her tone was reassuring, her expression indicated she was nervous and upset.

“Probably some tourist who wanted a picture of me,” Brad explained, doing his best to comfort the frightened little boy. “I'm famous you know, ever since I went on TV.”

Petey relaxed, just as Brad had hoped he would. “Yeah. Kurt and Kyle told me about that.”

Petey grinned, reminding Brad what big news Brad's stint on TV had been in the extended McCabe family.

“You got to kiss lots of girls!”

“Yuck!” eight-year-old Kyle said, running over to join them, too.

“Yeah, gross!” nine-year-old Kurt agreed.

All three little boys made gagging sounds, and ran off once again.

“Pretty good save,” Lainey said.

“Yeah. I just wish I knew who that guy was.” Brad didn't recognize him as one of the tabloid paparazzi that had stalked him while he was doing
Bachelor Bliss.
“And who he was taking photos for,” he added as two more cars slowed at the entrance to the Lazy M and turned into the drive. One was Lainey's SUV—driven by Bart Carrington—the other was Bunny's Mercedes, driven by Bunny.

Brad turned to Lainey, who was looking a little pale at the sight of her brother- and sister-in-law. “I didn't know you were getting your vehicle back today,” he observed.