Page 23 of Texas-Sized Secrets

Reed was quiet for a moment. “I found the man with the cut on his scalp at the bar.”

“Who is he?” Mona sat forward, excitement reviving her tired body.

“I don’t know. He left the bar about the time the fight started. I would have gone after him, but—”

“—you came to my rescue instead.” Mona shook her head. “Did you recognize him?”

“No. He was Latino, needed a haircut and was in his mid-to-late thirties, I’d guess.”

“Fernando visits relatives on other ranches and in Prairie Rock. I’ll ask him to help us locate him.”

“I’m afraid he may be an illegal alien. If that’s the case, he won’t want to be found.”

Mona yawned, her jaw cracking with the force of it. “I’m sorry, that was rude. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d say let’s go back and find our guy.” She couldn’t even keep her eyes open, how did she think she’d go hunting a thief when she was already half-dead? The baby had taken its toll on her body for the day.

Reed glanced at her, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth. “Go to sleep. I’ll get you home safe.”

Taking his advice, she leaned back. “You know, you’re easy to look at when you smile.” Did she really say that? Her mind let the answer trail away. “Thanks for rescuing me tonight,” she whispered as she drifted into the blackness of the Texas panhandle prairie.

* * *

“THANKS FORrescuingme.” Reed knew his words fell on deaf ears, and he was glad of that. He wasn’t fully ready to admit that this small woman with the heart of a lion had touched him like no one had been able to in a long time. Perhaps never.

He looked at her again. Dark eyelashes fanned against her high cheekbones. Her black hair lay across her shoulders in thick waves, her belly pushing against the blue chambray shirt she wore, making her appear more plump than pregnant.

Reed found himself wanting to reach out and touch her cheek, her shoulder, her breasts and even the swell of her belly carrying another man’s child.

He stared back at the road as a twinge squeezed his chest. A pinch he’d never felt before. “Whose baby is it, Miss Mona?” he whispered into the darkness.

She stirred, her eyes remaining closed. “Can’t tell.”

Reed couldn’t tell if she was really awake when she answered and thought it better not to find out. It was her business, not his.

But why wouldn’t she tell? Was she protecting someone? Or was she afraid that someone would take her baby away from her?

Did the father know? Did it matter who it belonged to? Despite her reckless insistence on being in the saddle just as much as any of her hands, she cared about the child growing inside her.

Her hand rested on her stomach, unconsciously protective. Mona Grainger would love her baby no matter who the father was. Just like his mother. Even if it meant keeping the secret of its lineage from everyone, including the father and the baby.

The world lumped into Reed’s gut. If she married, would she take care to choose a man who’d love the child no matter what, or would the kid go through life wondering what the hell he’d done to his father to make him hate him so much?

What did Reed care? He probably wouldn’t stay around long enough to find out. Once he resolved the rustling situation, he’d have to find another job. Maybe he’d go back to Chicago. His father—no, stepfather—could care less about him. When he came back to the panhandle, he’d come to see his mother and she was improving daily. If he left, she’d be well cared for by his stepfather. A fact he’d had to accept, despite his own interactions with the man so many years ago.

Reed glanced back at Mona. Like his mother, she’d apparently fallen in with the consequences of the wrong man, got knocked up and had to live with her actions. His mother had suffered through Reed’s childhood, always playing mediator between him and his father. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, knew how much it hurt her that the two men in her life couldn’t get along. Would Mona be the same?

The woman already struggled with a big enough burden handling a ranch on her own. The right husband could help her with the daily operations, but could he help her with raising a child?

The porch light served as a beacon in the sea of dark prairie grass. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he pulled into the driveway.

Mona had slid to the side, her head resting on his shoulder. When he turned off the engine, she didn’t awaken. Instead, she snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. He touched a hand to her shoulder and shook her.

The poor woman was so tired, his shaking had no effect on her.

However, his hand on her arm was having an effect on him. Mona Grainger was warm, soft and…and entirely too trusting. His thoughts veered into inappropriate waters for an employee. Maybe she was right, and he should leave.

Reed struggled between shouting to wake her and leaving her to sleep in the truck. Finally, he scooted her across the bench seat, lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house.

Walking past his assigned room, he stepped into the master bedroom with the king-size four-poster bed, draped in a solid white, fluffy comforter. When he laid her down, he stepped back with every intention of leaving the room as quickly as possible.

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