Colter Gamblers: Gambling On A Heart - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Mom let out a sigh. "What time is he coming over?"
"Five. I didn't want him to think it was a date. So, I told him, if he came over early, Amanda and Bobby would have time to play."
"Good."
Tracy stopped pacing and looked at her mother. "Mom, am I making a mistake? I don't want him to think I'm a s.l.u.t..." She shook head and started pacing again. "Mandy really likes me. She's such a little spitfire."
"She needs a mother."
"Yeah, but her father doesn't want that woman to be me."
Her mother came around the counter and took Tracy into her arms as if she was still a little girl. "Tracy, Zack Cartwright is a good man. He's honest and groundednow that he's not risking his fool neck by riding wild horses. He loved you once, sweetheart. No man forgets his first lovenot completely. He may have loved his wife, but she's dead and gone. And for a year now, the two of you have gone from avoiding each other to eating together, and setting the dance floor on fire." Her mother paused. Tracy met her blue eyes, and her mom took a deep breath. "Zack will come around. Just don't underestimate yourself."
"Mom, what if I can't make him fall in love with me again? What if he can't forgive me?" What if I'm not what he's looking for?
"Sweetheart, you just be yourself, and Zack will fall head over heels in love with you."
"Who else would I be?" But she knew what her mother meant. She had to show Zack the rumors and the mistakes were not who she really was. But telling him wasn't going to work. Zack had to see that she wasn't a cheater or vindictive. He had to figure it out on his own that she had believed a man like Zack Cartwright couldn't love a woman like her.
"You know what I mean," her mother softly said.
"Yeah, I guess I do." Tracy thrust out a long breath between her teeth. "Okay, but I still have no idea what to do about dinner. I just know I can't grill steaks. I guess I could pick something up or order a pizza."
Her mother stepped away and shook her head. "You do know if you'd paid attention when I tried to teach you how to cook"
Tracy's glare cut her off. Her mother chuckled and headed back to the stove and her big, bubbling pot. Tracy followed her and looked in as her mom stirred the contents.
"Is that your special chili?"
"Yes. Tom Miller brought me a whole bushel of tomatoes and a bunch of different kinds of peppers from a garden the ranch hands have over at the bunkhouse. He asked if I could make them some of my famous chili."
Tracy stared at her mother. "How on Earth could anyone know about your chili? You've only been here for two months?"
She shrugged. "Probably Tom's uncle, Jesse Riley. I've been making this recipe since I was a girl." Her mother winked. Jesse was a handyman who worked on the ranch and her mother's girlhood sweetheart. "I have an idea about your dinner. Plan to eat about six-thirty. Make a salad and throw some potatoes into the oven. Get some strip or T-bone steaks."
"Okay." Tracy smiled and nodded. "That sounds easy enough."
Her mother chuckled and moved away from the pot. She opened a spice cabinet and rummaged around for a few moments, picking up bottles of spices to look at them. "Ah. Good. We have everything I'll need." She looked at Tracy again. "Get a piece of paper and a pen to write this down. I'm going to give you a simple recipe for a marinade that is to die for. Then when Zack gets here, you mention about grilling the steaks outdoors, and I'll bet my secret chili recipe he'll jump right in and want to cook them." She winked and together they said, "Because grilling steaks is a man thing."
After Zack tucked Mandy into bed, he went out into the living room. It was late, but he knew sleep wouldn't come easy. Lunch that afternoon had proved to him just how attracted he was to Tracy.
He wanted her.
And after denying the fact to himself for the best part of a year, he was finally ready to admit he had to have her.
He stood before the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out over the darkened beauty of his ranch. Rain pelted the window while thunder sounded over the distant ridge. Lightning flashed lighting up the land. Beyond the yard and pasture was the lake where so many of his memories had occurred, where so many of his dreams had been born. In every one of those dreams, Tracy stood beside him. Back then, he'd wanted to eventually take over his share of the ranch and raise cattle. His father and uncle had thought the idea was crazy. He was only eighteen. What did he know about anything?
Nothing.
As the thunder chased the harsh light from the sky, he turned away from the window. Logan had given him a s...o...b..x full of c.r.a.p, explaining he'd found it when he'd cleaned out his condo in Dallas. Zack hadn't asked what was in the box; he'd simply tossed it amongst the clutter of Mandy's play dishes, and his latest ranch and law enforcement magazines on the coffee table.
Picking up the old box, he sat down on the couch. He stared down at it. Would opening the lid bring chaos like the fabled Pandora's Box?
Chuckling, he mumbled, "You are becoming way too introspective, Zack, my boy."
Taking a deep breath, he lifted the lid. The world didn't stop spinning, and as far as he could tell, no demons were unleashed, but his heart missed a few beats and breathing was impossible. He thought he'd thrown out all this stuff. How the h.e.l.l did Logan get his hands on it?
The first thing on top was a snapshot of him and Tracy standing before the Christmas tree at his parents' house. It was taken on Christmas Eve at a party. He picked it up and stared down into the image of them, smiling, hugging, two teenagers with big chips on their shoulders. Tracy had been shy about the 35mm camera his younger brother had pointed at them at every turn. He remembered what had happened later that night.
His grandparents had been out of town, and he'd stayed in the old log house to keep an eye on things for them. His grandfather knew Zack loved the old house and just wanted his own s.p.a.ce; so, every time he and Grandma went to Palm Springs, the old man let Zack stay over.
Following the party that Christmas Eve, Zack had brought Tracy here, and he'd told her about his dreams after making love to her. She must have found his ideas boring, because she'd fallen to sleep. At the time, he'd found it endearing. After all, he'd made love to her several times before he spilled his guts.
Beneath the Christmas picture was a large professionally done photograph of Tracy. Taken senior year, it was the one in their yearbook. Her hair was permed and curled high, sprayed stiff with too much hairspray. Her makeup was a little overdone, but she took his breath away.
He slowly laid it beside him on the couch and picked up the next picturea blown up snapshot of them on graduation day. As lightning flashed and thunder rattled the gla.s.s in the big windows, he went back in time. They were dressed in their caps and gowns, proudly holding their diplomasand each other. Around her neck was the sash of an honor student, and a corsage of white roses was pinned to her breast signifying her as the cla.s.s salutatorian. He'd been just happy to get through school. He hadn't cared about being valedictorian, so he'd gotten rid of the trappings as soon as he'd finished the speech and his diploma was in his hand.
"Is that you and Miz Tracy?"
He started and looked up to Mandy standing before him in her nightgown. She hugged the stuffed rabbit Lisa had given to her, and sucked on her thumb. She only did that when she was afraid.
He set aside the past and reached for the little girl he loved more than anything. As he pulled her onto his lap, he asked, "Can't you sleep, baby girl?"
She moved her head in the negative against his chest and snuggled close. "You didn't answer my question."
He chuckled low in his chest. Amanda Jean Cartwright might only be six years old, but she was n.o.body's fool. "Yeah, that's me and Miz Tracy. We were graduating high school."
"Was Momma there?"
"No." He sighed. "I hadn't met your momma yet."
"Oh." She s.h.i.+fted away and looked into the box sitting beside him on the couch. The next photo was of him and Tracy kissing by the barn. He hadn't even known the picture was taken until Logan had tried to blackmail him with it. "Did you like her?"
"Yeah, Mandy, I did." How did he tell a six-year-old about the kind of betrayal he'd suffered? "But she decided she liked Bobby's daddy more."
Mandy lay back against him again. "I wish she liked you again. Miz Tracy could be your friend and my subst.i.tute momma if she did. She could give me a baby sister and Bobby would be my big brother."
"Amanda Jean." He breathed and held her close. The picture of the pa.s.sionate kiss drew his attention, and he was painfully reminded how much he missed Tracy Quinn.
And how much he wished he could fulfill his daughter's wish.
Chapter 9.
Bobby hung up the old wall phone in the kitchen and sulked into the living room where Jake sat on his new leather recliner. Bobby bit on his bottom lipan annoying habit he'd inherited from the b.i.t.c.h. Something had him thinking.
"Hey, T-Rex, what did she say to you?" Jake muted the Thursday night football game on TV.
Bobby sat on the edge of the couch and shrugged a shoulder. "Mom's dating another guy again."
"And that surprises you?" Jake didn't even try to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
"I guess not, but I never met any of those other guys." Bobby took a deep breath and looked up at Jake. "It's the sheriff. She said they're coming over to ranch for supper tomorrow night."
"They?"
"Sheriff Cartwright and Mandy."
Ah, yeah, the daughter. "How do you feel about your mom and the sheriff together?" Jake took a drink from the bottle of Coors in his hand. He tossed the remote onto the table beside his chair as he regarded Bobby over the tilted bottle.
"I don't know. I like Mandy. She's okay for a girl." Bobby played with his fingers by entwining them, then straightening them. "The sheriff's okay, too, I guess."
Jake lowered the bottle. "Except he yelled at you when he has no right to. He's not related to you in any way that matters."
Bobby hesitated and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess. But Mom said he didn't really yell."
After setting the beer down beside the remote on the messy end table, Jake sat forward and peered at Bobby. "Don't let your mother talk you into believin' something that didn't happen, Bobby." d.a.m.n, how he wished he could change the boy's name. He hated that, in a weak moment after his birth, Tracy talked him into naming his son after her arrogant father. "Cartwright can't be trusted."
"What do you mean?" Bobby fidgeted on his seat.
"He's the reason I wasn't able to play professional ball." When Bobby's face pinched in a pretty good imitation of a question mark, Jake explained, "Back in high school I was on my way to playing the best ball around. I was scouted out and given a scholars.h.i.+p to Texas A and M to play for them at the end of the season of my junior year. But because I trusted that" He caught the word b.a.s.t.a.r.d just in time. "Trusted Zack, I tore up my right knee and couldn't play at all my senior year. I lost the money and the chance to go to school. Unlike your mom, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth."
"How did Sheriff Cartwright make you hurt your knee?"
"I hated horses. Still do. Zack knew that, but he demanded we go riding. That's why I never want you on a horse. You have the chance I never did. Anyway, we were going along the cliffs that cut into the ranch when my horse slipped and threw me. My foot got caught in the stirrup, and the horse dragged me. If Cartwright hadn't insisted we go riding on one of the most dangerous trails on the CW, I'd be playing in the NFL right now."
Jake watched Bobby chew on what he'd told him. Before he could ask the questions Jake saw forming, he added, "Zack is no one's friend, T-Rex. He'll try to win you over to his side, then he'll hurt you just like he did me."
"Don't worry," Tracy said, drawing Zack's attention back to her. "They'll be fine. Thanks for the football. Bobby liked it."
Zack watched Amanda run up the gleaming, curved, stairway after Bobby. Eileen Quinn's two Yorkies yipped and barked as they bounded up behind the kids. "I hope so. I don't think I made a great impression on him at the wedding. I was a little harsh." Tracy had been right about their kids. Despite the difference of four years in age and being of opposite s.e.xes, Bobby and Amanda were becoming fast friends.
Bobby would be my big brother.
He forced the memory of Mandy's comment to the back of his mind and looked at Tracy.
"Bobby needed someone to show him he was being a b.u.t.thead. You did that. Don't worry about it."
Zack's gaze drifted to her bright smile. "Sorry we're late." He removed his hat then ran his fingers through his hair. "I was stuck at the office again."
"Another rustling?"
"No. There was an accident on Highway Six." He shook his head as images of the mangled mess of the car involved flashed in his mind.
She started moving down the hall. "Bad?"
"Yeah." As he followed her into the kitchen, his boots thumped on the Italian tiles. "The driver was drunk and wrapped himself around a telephone pole."
She pushed the kitchen door open and grimaced. "Oh, no. Not someone we know? Is he okay?"
He swallowed and shook his head. "He's dead. No, he wasn't anyone you'd know. He was just pa.s.sing through from Crawford to Palo Pinto County."
"Oh."
She stopped by the island and leaned against the marble edge as if waiting for him to speak. Problem was he couldn't. She looked great dressed in white jeans and a bright electric blue, lightweight sweater, which seemed to bring out the light blue of her otherwise gray eyes. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder and held in place with one of those fat ponytail things Mandy called a scrunchie. Then he noticed the bangs hanging over her forehead.
"You cut your hair."
She seemed startled he'd noticed. "Just the front and trimmed the ends. This style seems to be the trend in Hollywood these days. Thought I'd give it a try. Melissa cut it for me." Brightening, she added, "Thanks for noticing. Most people never would."
Unsure of what else he could say that didn't make it obvious he'd notice even the slightest change, he said, "It's the bangs. You didn't have them before."
"True." Her smile quivered a little. "Well, it's getting late, and I have to get the grill going."
He nodded and looked around the large kitchen. The room was huge and warmly decorated in a fruit theme, all maple wood cabinetry and stainless steel. But he didn't see many personal items around. The sand-colored granite countertops were virtually bare. "Still unpacking?"
"Not really. I moved in the stuff I had and bought a few things. But the house is still pretty empty. Mom and Dad are bringing their furniture with them when they come home next week."
"How do you like the house?" He asked when the silence stretched too long. Then realized how lame the question was. She'd lived in this monster maze of rooms as a teenager.
"I'm still getting used to it. But right now, I'm trying not to get lost going from my bed to the bathroom. I've never slept in the master bedroom before. Mom and Dad took the guest suite."
Zack chuckled. "Well, I hope you drew a map. Otherwise, you could have dire consequences if you end up somewhere else."
A grin lit up her face. "Oh, so very true."
There were absolutely no signs of supper, but he smelled potatoes baking in the oven. Tracy's mother was a chef. What kind of cook was his hostess?
As the lag in the conversation stretched uncomfortably, he twisted his hat in his hand, wis.h.i.+ng he'd left it in the truck. She must have noticed his fidgeting and jumped away from the island. "I'm sorry. You can stow your hat in the closet through here. I really need to get a rack for the entry." She led him into the mudroom and slid a door open. The coat closet was big and nearly empty. Reaching past her shoulder, he laid the old Stetson on a shelf. When she turned toward him, he brushed her breast with his upper arm, causing a flame to shoot through him.
Her thin sweater tightened over her pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she sucked in a deep breath, providing proof their proximity to each other affected her as powerfully as it did him. He pulled his gaze from her chest to lock with her eyes. They had darkened to a silvery blue, made more intense by the brilliant color of her top. Her breath hitched, and her eyes lowered to his lips. He knew what she wanted, because he wanted it even more.
Without thinking about exactly what he was doing, he lowered his lips to hers. His heart slammed into overdrive when she lifted her hands to his chest and moaned his name. He wrapped his hand around her nape and tilted her face to allow him better access to her mouth. When he traced her upper lip with his tongue, she drew in a breath and opened her mouth under his. He took the invitation by thrusting his tongue deeply into the warm sweetness.
As their tongues dueled, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her body in full contact with his. She sucked on his tongue when he pressed his hard-on into her lower belly. Sweet mercy, he wanted to strip her right here and have his way with her on the cold tile floor of her mudroom. d.a.m.n the danger to his pride and self-respect.
And d.a.m.n the alarm warning him to be careful.
But he couldn't forget their kids were upstairs. Somehow, somewhere, he found the control to back off and eventually break the kiss. Tracy opened her eyes and peered at him, dazed. She blinked a few times as he ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. He couldn't hold in the raspy laugh.