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What was done was done.
Clay may have failed Trevor, but he wasn’t going to let his granddaughter down—assuming the baby was a Callaghan. So he looked out the window, focused his gaze straight ahead. Shoved those feelings down deep, where they belonged.
Thirty minutes or more into the flight, Daniela had managed to finish her vodka-laced juice and had seemed to relax a bit—until they hit an air pocket. Then she paled.
“Sorry about that.” Roger glanced over his shoulder and caught Clay’s eye. “Better fasten your seat belts, folks. It’s going to be bumpy for a while.”
The pilot nodded toward the windshield at the dark gray sky ahead. Roger planned to fly around the storm. And he’d warned Clay earlier that it would be a bumpy flight, although there was no reason to suggest they would be taking any unnecessary chances. Clay was, however, determined to get the baby out of Mexico and back to the States as quickly as he could, so he would have agreed to any risk Roger was willing to make. Still, he hated seeing Daniela so uneasy.
Under normal circumstances, with any other attorney, he would have been annoyed. But there was something about Daniela that made her different. And it wasn’t just her gender and her youthful beauty.
Okay, maybe it was.
Clay had never been one to chase after younger women. He preferred someone with maturity, someone who wasn’t interested in settling down.
Hell, he’d never even married his son’s mother. He and Sally had met at the feed lot and had a brief but heated affair. There hadn’t been much emotion involved. Of course, there never was on Clay’s part, and he always managed to find a lover with the same no-strings philosophy. Sally hadn’t seen any reason to get married, either, which was a relief.
As the plane hit another rough spot, he stole a glance at his traveling companion. Distress clouded her expression, the contradiction of competent attorney and frightened passenger intriguing him. Hell, he couldn’t sit idly by and watch her come apart at the seams—no matter how much he enjoyed looking at her.
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Roger said.
The plane bounced again, causing Daniela to nearly drop her drink.
“Finish it,” Clay told her, and she quickly obliged. He wondered if she assumed his order had been due to safety reasons, but it didn’t matter. He was just hoping she’d consume enough alcohol to feel more at ease. So far, it didn’t seem to be working.
The next time the plane dipped, she reached across the aisle and grabbed his hand, gripping him tightly.
Her touch, as well as her vulnerability, struck an unfamiliar chord in him, and he found himself stroking the top of her wrist with his thumb, comforting her much the way he would a skittish filly.
“That should be the worst of it,” Roger announced.
Yet Daniela didn’t let go.
Her hand was small, her nails unpolished and filed neatly, her skin soft. Yet her grip was strong.
Clay had half a notion to draw her close, to offer her more than a hand to hold.
Now where the hell had that wild-ass thought come from?
Clay had never been one to mess with the touchy-feely stuff. And the fact that he’d let down his guard and nearly done so, didn’t sit well with him. So he did the only thing he could think of. He offered her another drink.
Interestingly enough, she agreed without much hesitation.
“A little turbulence is no big deal,” Clay told her. “Really. Think of this as a car going along a bumpy road.”
Yeah, right, Dani thought.
When it came to aerodynamics, that was probably true. But it felt as though there were only clouds holding them up, and the waters of the gulf below were waiting to swallow them whole. That is, unless they’d already crossed over the Mexican border, in which case…
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Her fear of flying was as real as it was embarrassing.
She knew what Clay was doing. He was trying to make her feel better, and she appreciated his efforts.
“I don’t suppose we have to let Martin know about this, do we?” She took a sip of her drink, expecting to scrunch her face at the taste of the vodka and force herself to swallow. But this second screwdriver tasted better and seemed to be going down a lot easier than the first.
“Let Martin know about what?” the rugged rancher asked as if he hadn’t picked up on her distress.
“I had a bad experience a few years ago,” she admitted. “We almost crashed. Once we got back on the ground, I swore I’d never get in a plane again, at least not a small one.”
He took a swig of his scotch, then nodded at her glass. “Drink up. Then let’s share battle stories.”
“You had a frightening experience, too?” she asked.
“More than my share—on the land, air and sea. But I’ve always lived to tell about them.”
She took another big swallow, then decided to reveal her one-and-only adventure first. “When I was in college, some friends invited me to ski with them in Vail. Between them, they loaned me all the gear, and one of our classmates had a private plane and a brand-new pilot’s license.”
The memory alone was enough to bring on a shudder, but talking about it seemed to help, making her realize this trip wasn’t anywhere near as awful. Not yet, anyway.
“College students on their way to a party and a spanking-new pilot,” Clay said, sizing up her experience. “That sounds like a bad mix to me.”
“We weren’t going to a party,” Dani corrected.
She’d always been too responsible for that, too diligent with her studies to play. But it had been winter break, and she’d always wanted to know what the fuss was about snow skiing.
“So what happened?” Clay sat back in his seat, his legs extended, a long, lean cowboy completely at ease. His calm demeanor was reassuring, his presence comforting. As were the two drinks he’d fixed her.
So she settled, somewhat, into her seat. “The sky darkened, and lightning bolts shot all around us. The thunder was incredibly loud, and the turbulence was terrifying. We bounced around like a splatter of water on a hot griddle, and after what seemed like forever, we finally landed in Denver.”
“See?” he said, taking another drink, chunks of ice clinking against the glass. “You came out all right.”
“Yes, but I also left my friends in Colorado, purchased a bus ticket and went home before the weekend got underway.”
Without asking, Clay fixed them each another drink. Dani should have politely declined, but took it from him anyway. To be honest, the taste wasn’t so bad anymore. And the intoxicating effect had numbed her nerves to a tolerable level. Of course, the plane was also traveling smoothly now—or relatively, she supposed.
By the time she’d downed her third drink, she decided Clay Callaghan was not only a handsome older man, but he was also the nicest guy she’d ever met. He was very quiet, a great listener.
Or maybe the alcohol had loosened her tongue. Either way, she found herself babbling about one thing or another. After she’d told him about how hard she’d worked to pass Chemistry 103, Clay paused a beat, considering her.
“So you were the studious sort.” A slow grin deepened the lines around his eyes—green, with flecks of gold that glimmered—and brought out an interesting pair of dimples. “I thought all college kids liked to party.”
“Not me. I was practically born responsible. I had to be.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “My mom was a lot younger than my dad. I guess you could say she was flighty and irresponsible. When I was in kindergarten, she left us, so Dad and I had to fend for ourselves. Even as a five-year-old, I tried to do everything I could to make things easier for him. For us, actually.”
“At the age of five? That’s a mighty big chore for a little girl.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I helped with laundry and cooking. By the time I was ten, I could fix a hearty meal.”
“So the attorney is a whiz in the kitchen, as well as the courtroom.”
“If you like Mexican food.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, I can fix a pretty decent casserole, as long as I have a box and all the fixings.” She tossed him a smile.
His lips quirked as though he found her entertaining, and it warmed her heart. It warmed her cheeks, too.
In fact, it was getting hot in here.
“Whew.” She fanned herself with both hands.
Clay chuckled as though he wasn’t at all bothered by the temperature or by her attempts to cool off. “Well, now that you’re a high-priced attorney, you ought to be able to hire a chef.”
“Yeah, right.” She took off her jacket and laid it on an empty seat. Then she kicked off her shoes and rubbed her bare feet along the carpeting. “With three kids to raise and student loans to repay?”
“You’ve got three kids?” His voice rose an octave and a decibel level, bearing evidence of his surprise. As his gaze roamed over her, it seemed to peel away her clothes, as well as her facade.
But for some reason she didn’t care. In fact, she felt compelled to confide in him. “I’m not their birth mother, if that’s what you think. My dad remarried when I was ten. And my stepmom wanted a family of her own. So pretty soon the babies started coming, and I helped out with them, too.”
“You sure took on a lot of responsibility in your family.” His voice returned to normal, that deep, graveled drawl that seemed to suit him so well. A pleasurable sound a woman could get used to. “When did you manage to find time to study?”
“In the late evenings, when the house was quiet.” She smiled. “But it wasn’t that bad. Academics came easy for me and I did very well in high school. College, too. I even received a partial scholarship to Rice University.”
“I bet your family was proud.”
“They were. My dad and stepmom were struggling financially, but they managed to supplement the scholarship. They only asked that I provide financial assistance for the younger children’s college education.”
“Sort of a pay it forward thing, huh?”
“Well, that was the idea.”
The agreement they’d made had fostered her desire to excel first in school, then in her profession—and quickly. But she hadn’t counted on the unexpected. “During my first year of law school, my stepmom died in a car accident, and I nearly dropped out. My younger brother and sisters needed me. And so did my dad.”
“Obviously, you didn’t quit.”
“No. Somehow, I managed to make it through. Believe it or not, having a goal on which to focus made it easier to deal with the grief.”
“No one understands that more than I do,” Clay said. “You’re a strong young woman, Daniela.”
She leaned forward. “You think so?” Then she blew out a sigh, along with all the secrets she kept shoved into the bottom or her heart. “It’s been a struggle sometimes. Especially after my dad died.”
“That’s too bad.” His concern was touching, and the sound of his voice was growing on her moment by moment. It was nice. Rough yet soft. Sympathetic and supportive.
“Did your father pass away recently?” he asked.
“Yes, last year. He was fishing with some friends in the gulf and was killed in a freak boating accident.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, the rugged, sexy drawl a balm.
“That’s okay. I’m doing fine. Really.” Yet tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they soon overflowed and slid down her cheeks. She swiped at them, struggling to keep up with the flow.
“Darn it. I don’t understand why this is happening. I haven’t cried in a long time and can’t understand why I’m so weepy and emotional now.” She sought his gaze, hoping he wouldn’t hold her display of tears against her.
“Tell me about the kids,” he said, as though maneuvering around the subject.
“They’re a handful. Sara, my fourteen-year-old sister, constantly complains about having to help me keep an eye on the others. And Marcos, who is ten, never fails to let me know what a pain it is to be the only boy in a family full of girls. Little Delia, who truly is a sweetheart, cries at the drop of the hat.”
“That’s gotta be tough.”
“It is. And I’m doing a poor job of it.” Dani blew out a weary sigh. “I love them. I really do. But it’s tough trying to support them, both emotionally and financially, by myself.”
He didn’t respond, but she sensed his understanding, his sympathy.
She reached across the aisle, placing her hand on his muscular forearm. “But don’t feel sorry for me. I’m going to make a name for myself at Phillips, Crowley and Norman.”
“I bet you will.”
“Do you know what?”
He shook his head no.
“Martin and everyone else at the firm think I’m a single, career-minded woman with no other responsibilities but my job.” So far she’d had them all fooled. But she feared her secret wouldn’t last long.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said.
“I try not to be.” But if truth be told, sometimes, late at night, when the kids finally went to bed and the house was quiet, seeds of resentment sprouted—when she let them. She was forced to admit to herself that the responsibility she’d inherited was overwhelming.
She opened her mouth to reveal that to Clay, as well, but for some reason, she clamped her jaw shut. Something told her she might have said too much already.
What all had she told him?
Clay glanced at his watch. “We ought to be getting pretty close to Guadalajara now.”
Dani peered out the window. Oh, wow. It was really dark outside.
“How much longer will it be?” Clay asked Roger.
“See those lights ahead?” the pilot asked. “We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes. Are you planning to go to the church tonight?”
“No,” Clay said. “From what I’ve been told, the road to the village isn’t that easy to find in the daylight. So we’ll get a couple of hotel rooms. Then we’ll hire a driver to take us at the crack of dawn.”
What a day this had proven to be, Dani thought. She’d flown to Mexico and was going to a hotel to spend the night with a client.
Well, not exactly with him…
