Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife. Charlene Sands
eleven years and instead of him moving on with his life, he tossed all of the love he had for her onto me. I’m on the receiving end of a doting, controlling, overpowering father. Lucky me.”
“Oh, Callie. Sorry. I thought he’d lighten up after you got home from Boston.”
“Just the opposite. He wanted me to work for him when I got home. Laid the guilt on pretty thick too this last time. The Sullivan legacy will die if I don’t take the reins at the ranch. All that he’d built up will go to ruins. The sky will fall and crush everything he’s worked so hard for. Finally, I gave in. I worked with him for months. And I tried, Sammie. But The Hawk and I just don’t see eye to eye on things.”
Which was a nice way of saying her father was too ruthless a businessman for Callie. She had strong professional ethics that he didn’t understand. They’d butted heads over business decisions constantly. “I finally told him no, not at this time. I want to work in the field I’m interested in, the field I studied for four years. And he backed off, a little. And then he pulled his Hawk maneuver with Troy.”
“What did he do?”
“Troy’s a really great guy. I liked him, but it wasn’t earth-shattering or anything.” Nothing compared to how she felt about Tagg Worth. Especially now, but she had to hold those feelings close to her heart for the time being. She was purposefully deceiving Tagg with a sin of omission, but it couldn’t be helped.
Restless, Callie rose from the bed. She moved over to the window and smiled when she looked down from the second story to find her palomino, Freedom, prancing around the perimeter of the corral. When her mother was alive, living on Big Hawk Ranch had given Callie so much joy. She still loved the ranch, but couldn’t abide her father’s way of doing things.
“I’d only dated him for a month. Daddy kept asking questions, hinting that Troy wasn’t good enough for me, just because of what he did for a living. Apparently, blue-collar workers aren’t good enough for a girl raised on a cattle ranch,” she added with sarcasm. “I was really beginning to like this guy and then he stopped calling. I couldn’t reach him by phone, so one day I stopped by his office trailer outside of town and asked him what happened. And you know, I have to give Troy credit for telling me the truth.”
“Which was?”
Before Callie could respond, Sammie sighed. “Oh, your father threatened him?”
Callie turned from the window, tempering the anger she felt at her father’s manipulation. “No, no … nothing that blatant. He offered Troy a lucrative job doing a remodel for a friend’s ranch in Flagstaff. Would take about six months at the very least. The only stipulation was that he break off all contact with me.” Callie laughed without humor. “Can you imagine? I about died of mortification and whatever I had building with Troy had been sullied, ruined by The Hawk, even though Troy had turned my father down flat.”
“Oh, wow, Callie. That’s too bad.”
Callie thought so, too. After that humiliating experience, Callie had packed her bags and driven to Reno to blow off steam. Her cousin, Deanna, lived there and she had an open invitation to visit. For the first few days, Callie could barely see straight for the anger and humiliation she’d felt and she vented to her cousin, who’d lent a responsive ear. She was on her way back home when she’d stopped at the Cheatin’ Heart and spotted Tagg sitting on that bar stool.
Callie’s fantasy man.
And her father’s worst nightmare.
Callie took the opportunity presented to her. No, that wasn’t entirely true. She had to be totally honest with herself—she’d made things happen with Tagg. Because she wanted him and because she’d been sorely exasperated with her father. She wasn’t sure if one or the other alone would have sparked her bold move, but the combination of both was too tempting to resist. She couldn’t possibly have predicted how that night would end.
Because Callie hadn’t planned on falling in love.
Or conceiving Tagg’s baby.
Yet, both had happened.
Callie finished her conversation with Sammie and placed the receiver back onto its cradle. With a hand to her belly, she marveled about the new life growing inside her, wondering whether it was a boy or a girl. Wondering if the baby would have her brown eyes or Tagg’s beautiful silver-blue ones. Would the child have a golden bronze complexion like the father or be fair-skinned like Callie?
In only her most selective, perfect fantasies did she entertain thoughts of a future with Taggart Worth. She wouldn’t use the baby as bait to lure him into a relationship. She wouldn’t trap him into marriage. Yes, he had a right to know about the baby, but not yet. Shoving aside the guilt that burdened her by not revealing the truth to him, Callie held firm to her convictions. She needed a little time and a chance to win him over. She’d fallen in love with him and wanted nothing less in return. Before she told him she carried his child.
Callie had set the wheels in motion. Tomorrow she would begin working with the Worths at Penny’s Song.
Two
Tagg’s eyes nearly crossed as he stared at the computer screen. He’d been intent on doing an inventory of Worth Ranch holdings and had spent the better part of the morning staring at numbers.
Tagg’s office space, which was an appendage of his main house, consisted of three rooms. The room where Tagg would conduct business if need be, he had designed himself. Rough wood beams angled across the ceilings, wall-to-wall walnut bookshelves and cabinets spread across the entire perimeter, and his wide desk faced the door. The other two rooms were smaller with walls painted in rustic gold. One he used as a makeshift lounge area, complete with a wet bar, built-in refrigerator and a chocolate leather sofa. The other room was where he kept old file cabinets and outdated equipment. All of the Worths’ business machines and electronics were state of the art now, upon Jackson’s insistence.
“Enough,” he muttered as he shut down the computer. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. At the age of thirty-one he was too damn young to be feeling so weary before noon.
“You’re doing too much,” his brother Jackson said as he walked into the office. “Why the heck don’t you break down and get yourself some help? A secretary, for Pete’s sake. You know, someone who can answer phones and file, crunch those numbers you’re staring at too long.”
“When the hell did you get here?” Tagg asked, baffled. He was concentrating so hard on his work, he hadn’t heard Jackson drive up and walk into his office.
“Don’t change the subject. You know I’m right.”
Tagg glared at him. His brother was two years older and a whole lot more polished than Tagg. He wore six-hundred-dollar snakeskin boots and dressed like a fashion model for Cowboys & Indians magazine. He operated the Worth offices in downtown Phoenix.
“I’m thinking about it.” He hated to admit it. His brothers were always on his case about hiring someone to help out. The trouble was that Tagg liked the solitude of the ranch. He liked keeping his own hours without answering to anyone. He liked being alone with his thoughts. An employee would cramp his style.
In his younger days, he’d spend all-nighters with the rodeo boys, drinking whiskey until the sun came up without one iota of sleep. But his eyes never burned like they did now, spending hours in front of the computer screen. Of course, after a long bender like that, he’d felt no pain anywhere on his body.
Tagg smiled thinking about his crazy rodeo days and the friends he’d left behind. But then, dark memories immediately flooded in, reminding him why he left the rodeo.
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re thinking about it,” Jackson remarked. “I can have Betty Sue take a look at the list of résumés we have at the main office. That woman is great at hiring the right employees for the company.”
Tagg waved him off. “Maybe. But not now.”
Jackson