The Rodeo Man's Daughter. Barbara Daille White

When the weeks went by without a word, it grew harder for her to believe in his empty promises.

       And when two months had passed and she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d had nowhere to turn. She couldn’t tell her mom. She’d die before she would confess to Aunt El. And wouldn’t survive if Granddad ever found out.

       She couldn’t even risk telling her best friend, Dana.

       She had to find Caleb.

       And she did.

       After weeks of online searches, she had finally tracked him down at a rodeo outside Gallup. She’d had to use most of her babysitting money to buy a round-trip bus ticket that would take her there and back the same day.

       She had arrived at the arena just in time to find Caleb flushed with success at his first major win—and with two girls wrapped around him. One giggled into his ear while the other one planted a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek.

       Her own cheeks flaming, Tess had approached the trio.

       At first, Caleb looked as though he would deny knowing her. Then, he simply denied that he had any interest in her—by turning to walk away.

       She stopped him, saying she had something important to discuss.

       “Time to collect my prize,” he told her. “Come and watch, Tess. That’s what’s important. That’s what will save me from going back to some one-horse town with one-horse folks in it.”

       Obviously, his statement included her.

       Raising her jaw, she stared him down. Sheer willpower kept her from telling him how he’d made her feel. She’d never in her life been so hurt. So humiliated.

       Stubborn pride prevented her from telling him about the baby. Instead, she blurted out the news she was getting married.

       That didn’t interest him, either. He’d stood there, not saying a word, the silence hanging between them until, finally, he’d wished her well.

      Best of luck, he’d said. Damn him.

       Then they’d shouted his name over the loudspeakers, and even before he’d turned his lipstick-stained face from her, before he’d rushed off to claim his all-important prize, her heart had broken.

       By the time she had walked away, she’d promised herself Caleb Cantrell would never know what he’d meant to her. And he would never know about their child....

       In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the picnic table, someone moved toward her. She jumped. Gone so deeply into her thoughts, wrapped so completely in memories, she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. She looked up to see Caleb standing in front of her. It took her a long, startled moment to come to her senses.

       When she did, she shot a glance past him, to find they were alone in the backyard.

       She tried to rise from her lawn chair. Her legs, curled in one position for who knew how long, almost gave way. Staggering slightly, she managed to catch herself. Caleb didn’t seem to notice. Still, to her dismay, she imagined him reaching out to steady her. Could almost feel the heat from his hands washing through her, as cozy and warm as if she had been sitting all that time in front of the campfire she’d thought about. She felt an overwhelming desire to move closer, to have him wrap his arms around her.

       Was she crazy? Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she eased away from him.

       She’d been burned by Caleb once. Hadn’t that been enough?

       Hoping her stiff legs would bear her weight, she moved aside and rested her hip against the nearest picnic table.

       “Nice meal,” he said.

       She nodded.

       “Still got that pecan pie to go.”

       “Yes.”

       “Good company, too. But you didn’t seem to feel much like joining in the conversation.”

       What could she say in response? Nothing Caleb would want to hear. She shrugged, hoping he would leave it at that.

       He didn’t. Of course.

       “Not into rodeo?” he asked.

       Astonished, she stared at him. Could he really have asked that question? Could he have forgotten what happened the one and only time they’d been together at a rodeo? Or worse, did he not even care? She swallowed a bitter laugh. He didn’t care at all. Of course.

       Why should she? “I was at a rodeo with you, Caleb. Or I should say, I followed you to one. Once.”

       “Yeah, that’s right.” He tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. Not meeting her eyes, he said, “Sorry about that night.”

       She shook her head again, this time in stunned disbelief. He’d tossed out the offhanded apology with as much care as he’d tossed paper plates into the trash after their supper.

       “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “That one time was enough for me. I never had much interest in going to rodeos after that.”

       “Look, I guess I got caught up in the win and wanted more.”

       “More what? Fame and fortune?” Not more time with her. “You got that, didn’t you? And the stories to go with it.” She couldn’t resist adding, “But then, the rodeo didn’t teach you that. You always talked a good line.”

       “Tess—”

       She raised her hand to cut him off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Shouldn’t have wasted her breath. At least her apology had held some sincerity.

       Caleb hadn’t changed, and she’d been foolish to think he might have. Even more foolish to hope she could ever feel close to him again. “Tell you what. Let’s just leave the past in the past, where it belongs. It’s history.”

       “Yeah, but you’re part of my history. And I’m part of yours. No getting away from that.”

       No, she couldn’t ever forget it. If he only knew how big a role their past played in her life every day…

       A cold chill running through her now, she wrapped her arms around her waist, missing the warmth she’d so recently felt. “I don’t know where you’re planning to go with that, Caleb, but you can just stop right there. I won’t have any more interest in your story than I did in your rodeo tales.” She forced herself to stand straight again, abandoning the support of the picnic table. Then she steeled herself to look up at him. “Yes, I’m part of your history,” she agreed. “The part you left behind.”

       EVEN THOUGH he now had his mind and hands occupied with two fistfuls’ worth of playing cards, Caleb had plenty of focus left to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Tess.

       Or tried to have, more like it. She hadn’t listened to what he’d already said and wouldn’t let him get another word in edgewise. He had heard the hurt in her voice and knew part of him deserved the words she’d flung at him. Still, they’d stung.

       He’d have protested, would have spoken up in his own defense, if her pint-size daughter hadn’t returned to the backyard to lead him away and into the dining room, where the other girls had gathered around the long table.

       Tess eventually joined them. Reluctantly, he could tell.

       He had to fight not to crush the cards in his fist.

       Yeah, dammit, he’d left her behind. But he’d meant to come back. He’d sworn it. Only things hadn’t worked out that way. Life never did go the way you had it planned. Tess ought to know that. Hadn’t she said as much herself when she’d told him about her marriage not working out?

       Besides, she’d come to him first. To deliver her good news.

       Slowly, he loosened his grip on the cards. He looked around the dining room again at the scattering of small tables he’d seen earlier,