Cowboy for Keeps. Cathy McDavid

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      “I bet your mom’s happy about the baby.”

      “Are you kidding? She’s ecstatic. Already making plans. Has a furniture maker friend building a cradle and an artist friend designing a mural for the nursery wall. She said to tell you hello, by the way.”

      “Give her my regards.” The wagon seat creaked in protest as Conner shifted. There wasn’t much room, and their thighs inadvertently brushed, then their elbows.

      Dallas didn’t seem to mind. Conner sure didn’t.

      “Hank mentioned he may have some clients who are hiring. He’s going to make some calls tomorrow.”

      Conner’s defenses rose. He hated the idea of Dallas and her family discussing his lack of employment. “I don’t want to impose on him.”

      “It’s no trouble.”

      Conner didn’t need help. Not from Dallas or her family. He was more than capable of finding a job on his own. “Since when did I become dinner conversation?”

      “I was telling them about our trip today, and they asked how you were.”

      “I see.” He leaned forward and struck a closed fist on his knee.

      Dallas must have realized all was not well. “Did I do something wrong?” She placed a hand on his arm.

      Her tenderness and compassion could be his undoing if he let it.

      “I’m not one to take handouts from people.” He had enough trouble with Gavin and Clay. At least he could repay their generosity with hard work.

      “Hank calling some of his clients isn’t a handout. He’s being nice.”

      She was right. Conner was letting that damnable pride of his get in the way. Instead, he should be exploring every opportunity regardless of the source.

      “Thanks.” He covered her hand, which still rested on his arm. “I like that you’re thinking of me.”

      “It’s only fair, after all the help you’re giving me.”

      “You really think the book can boost your career?”

      “I hope so.” A wistfulness came over her. “Someday, my photos are going to be hanging right there alongside Dorothea Lange’s.”

      “Who’s that?”

      Dallas gawked at him in disbelief. “Only the most influential documentary photographer of the twentieth century.”

      “Oh, her.”

      She rolled her eyes.

      “I thought your commercial business was doing well.”

      “It is. Pays the bills. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.”

      “But you want more.”

      “What can I say? I crave fame and success. You understand.”

      He did. The success part, anyway. He also understood how reaching for the stars could result in a spectacular fall.

      “Mostly, I want people to look at my pictures and do more than say isn’t that nice.” The wistfulness from earlier returned. “I want them to get goose bumps. Be inspired. Moved to tears. Have their perspectives changed. Heck, maybe even their lives.”

      “Wow.”

      “I know it’s a lot.” Her cheeks reddened. “And I sound like an egomaniac.”

      “No, I’m just...impressed. And jealous.”

      “Of what?”

      “You’re lucky to be so passionate about your job. Most of us head off to the office, put in our eight hours and head home.”

      “Didn’t you have that kind of passion when you were at Triad?”

      He nodded. “I figured on a promotion every few years and staying put till I retired. I never thought for one second it would end like it did.”

      “Or that Richard would take over your job?”

      “That, either.” He tamped down the anger that still hovered just beneath the surface.

      “You must hate him,” she said sympathetically.

      “Not hate.”

      “Despise?”

      “I held a grudge. Hold a grudge, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not angry at him. Not over the company-wide downsizing and his promotion.” Conner rubbed his closed fist on his thigh. “He’s also trying to do right by you and the baby, and I respect that.”

      “You think I should marry him?”

      “I think you should consider it. Seriously. He can take good care of both of you. Provide a financially stable life.”

      Unlike Conner.

      “What about love?”

      “You said yourself you’ll always care for him. And you loved him once. Enough to get engaged.”

      “I think I was enamored with the idea of being in love. And vulnerable at the time.”

      Because of him? Conner was hesitant to ask, not sure how he’d respond if she answered yes.

      “Richard was everything I thought I was looking for then.” She stared forlornly at the horizon.” I’ve been unfair to him, and I won’t compound it by marrying for the wrong reason.”

      Conner saw her point. But he’d been raised by parents who instilled traditional values in him. “Richard’s trying to do the honorable thing. You might be happier than you think you’ll be.”

      “We both know that a marriage license is no guarantee. My father left when I was a child. Yours when you were, what? Eighteen?”

      “Twenty.”

      “And I bet being older didn’t make it hurt any less.”

      “My argument exactly. If Richard were to bail on you and the baby—”

      “Then I’d go after him.” She finished Conner’s sentence for him. “I don’t need a marriage license for that. But he won’t bail, because he isn’t the kind of man to abandon his child. Like you said before, he’s responsible. Dependable. He’s paying for any medical expenses my insurance doesn’t cover. Agreed to buy baby furniture and clothes. List me and the baby on as beneficiaries on his life insurance.”

      It was difficult for Conner to concentrate with their legs glued together, her chest rising and falling, and those laser sharp eyes fastened on him.

      “What about visitation?”

      “I’ll СКАЧАТЬ