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She asked, “You the oldest?”
“No, second born.”
“So why don’t you build your fancy houses on your own ranch?”
Had he seen that one coming? You bet he had. He sipped more coffee and told her why his family ranch wouldn’t do—even if the family had been willing to let it go. “Bravo Ridge is too far from a major highway. The plan is to build a top-quality San Antonio bedroom community that’s just far enough out to be considered in the country. With energy and oil prices so high, access and reasonable commute times are going to be key.”
“Plus, it’s your family ranch, right? Your…heritage. Your history. No way you’d let some developer build tract homes on it.”
She had it right. He changed the subject. “Mary. Please.
Not tract homes. Each house will be one of a kind. It’s a fine plan we’ve put together.” He gestured toward the glasstopped back door. It opened onto a patio—he could see the rusting metal patio cover. Beyond that, across a rough patch of drying grass and a wide dirt driveway, there was a barn and a few other rundown outbuildings and pens. “Your land will be put to good use.”
“My land is already put to good use.”
He spoke gently again. “You’re a freelance writer, Mary, not a rancher. We both know you barely have time to take care of the few animals your husband left you. With the baby coming, it’s only going to get more difficult for you.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Your land is overgrown.”
“I like it that way.”
It’s dangerous that way, he thought. A damn wildfire waiting to happen. But she might take such a remark as some kind of veiled threat and that wasn’t the tone he was going for. “I’m only saying that the land itself would be better served if it got more care.”
Now she was studying him. “More care, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“You know, I can see why they send you in to make the impossible happen, to.. .how did they put it in the Godfather movies?”
He saluted her with the mug and reluctantly provided the words she was looking for. “Make them an offer they can’t refuse?”
“That’s it.”
So much for avoiding any hint of a threat. “The Bravos are hardly the Mafia, Mary.”
“Of course you’re not.” She rubbed the side of her big stomach, frowning. “But you are used to getting what you want.”
“And so are the people we deal with. We do our best to make every transaction a win-win.”
She pulled a face at that. And then she shrugged. “Anyway, as I was saying…” Her brows drew together and she slid her hand around behind her to rub her lower back. “I can see why they sent you. There’s something about you. It’s partly your looks.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“I’m just stating a fact. It never hurts to be good-looking when you show up to try and charm a person into doing something she’s repeatedly refused to do. And you are charming.”
“I try.”
“Well, it’s working.”
“Good to know.”
“Plus, you seem…so calm. And patient. And interested, too. Interested in me and my welfare.”
“I am interested, Mary.” It was true. Not so much in her welfare. But in her. She wasn’t what he’d expected. To bend her to his will, gently, so that in the end she decided she wanted to sell, would be a challenge. And challenges interested him. But the truth was, even if he hadn’t been interested, he would have said he was and made her think he meant it.
She smoothed another lock of hair behind her ear. “I mean, we both know you’re only trying to manipulate me into signing away my ranch.”
“Ouch.”
“But yet you seem so relaxed about it. As if you don’t really care if you make it happen or not, as if you’re just enjoying sitting here in my kitchen with me, drinking regular coffee that came out of a can.”
“I am enjoying this, Mary.” He leaned closer. Her scent drifted to him again: Ivory soap and citrus. He lowered his voice. “That’s my secret. I enjoy making things.. .work out.”
“Work out for BravoCorp, you mean.”
“And for you, Mary. Believe it or not, I’m on your side.”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but she did make a small sound of disbelief.
He sat back in his chair. “Ready for the presentation?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Mary couldn’t hold back a laugh when the name of the housing development appeared on the screen.
Gabe punched the pause button. “What? You don’t like the name?”
“Bravo River? There’s no Bravo River on my property. There’s no river at all.”
“True. But there’s a nice, wide creek.”
“Skunk Creek, you mean?”
“That’s the one. We’ll change the name.”
He wouldn’t be doing any such thing, since he was not getting his hands on the Lazy H. But she’d already told him that about a hundred times, so she kept quiet. He punched the key again and the show continued.
In spite of herself, Mary was impressed. The presentation started with a great little movie. There was stirring music and a narrator who sounded like Robert Duvall.
The movie showed how BravoCorp, its architects and builders would respect the land when they built on it, designing each house to fit the terrain of the lot it would stand on, so that existing trees and geological features would remain, as much as possible, the way nature had created them. The houses themselves would employ green technology, using renewable resources, incorporating solar energy. There would even be Bravo River buses available between the development and San Antonio, so people could use mass transit rather than driving their cars and contributing to greenhouse gases and the oil crisis.
A montage of images showed the housing development taking shape, and then an aerial tour showed how it would look when it was completed. And even though she would never let it happen on her land, Mary had to admit, it was going to be beautiful when they finally found a place to put it.
He also had the pie charts and graphs she’d expected. They detailed how great Bravo River was going to be for the area, for the economy, for everybody—especially Mary. Now not only were they offering her a whopping price for the Lazy H, they were throwing in a percentage of the project’s profits.
If there was any chance that Mary might have changed her mind, she would have done it after seeing Gabe’s presentation. But there was no chance, as she’d made more than clear. She was only waiting for him to finish so she could say “no.” Again.
Finally, the theme music swelled and the BravoCorp logo filled the screen.
Gabe gently reached out and pulled the laptop shut. “Let me answer your questions and then we’ll—”
“No,” Mary said. “Really. I don’t have any questions.”
“Well, all right.” He bent to his briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Let’s go over the particulars.”
Mary felt the strangest twinge in her back right then—like a big rubber band snapping. Swallowing a gasp at the unpleasant sensation, she spread her legs to make room for her stomach and leaned forward, trying to stretch the weird feeling away. She rubbed the base of her spine some more. As she rubbed, she repeated what she’d told him way too many times already.
“Seriously, Gabe. It’s not going to happen.” She massaged the achy spot, but the ache only seemed to spread, slithering out from her spine on both sides. She bit back a groan as the twinges moved from beneath her ribs to the sides of her belly and kept going, encircling her giant waist like a belt, and then yanking tight. Somehow, she managed to speak in an even, clear tone in spite of the pain. “I’ve made it more than clear that I’ll never sell.”
Gabe behaved as if he hadn’t heard her. He set the stack of papers on the table and rapped his knuckles on them. “I think we should go through these. What can it hurt?”
“But there’s no point.” Trying hard to ignore the pains and keep her voice firm and reasonable, she explained, “I will raise my child here. I love it here. I’m not leaving—and besides, my husband loved this place, too. I swear Rowdy would turn over in his grave if I ever gave up his beloved Lazy H to be carved into little plots, each with its own spacious and gracious McMansion on it.”
Gabe Bravo didn’t miss a beat. “You’re not getting it, Mary. We’re not talking about any cookie-cutter McMansions. Each home at Bravo River will be one-of-a-kind. And constructed with care and concern for the land and the environment.” His blue eyes changed, grew soft with sincerity. “And I am so sorry that you’ve lost your husband.” He really did sound like he meant it. He coaxed, “Mary. Come on. I can’t believe your husband would want you to pass up an offer like this, especially considering that you’re about to have a child. I know if Rowdy were here, he would be thinking that his baby should have all the good things money can buy. His baby—your baby—deserves a broadened horizon. That means the choice of elementary and high schools. And college. When the time comes, you’ll be able to foot the bill for the very best in higher education without having to think twice. Mary, if Rowdy were here, I know he would surprise you with what he would do for you and your baby, with the choice that he would make, the choice for your future, for the kind of security you’ll have with a fortune in the bank.”
Mary masked her increasing discomfort and put on her sweetest smile. “Since you never knew my husband, how can you possibly know what he might have wanted? And the truth is, I love this place as much as Rowdy ever did. Maybe more. I’m doing all right and my baby will be just fine, thank you. And now, well, I’ve enjoyed visiting with you, Gabe, but seriously. I have to get back to work.”
He looked at her steadily. “Are you kicking me out, Mary?”
“That’s right, Gabe. I am.”
He slipped the papers in the briefcase. His laptop followed. He slanted her a look as he snapped the latches shut. “You know I’ll be back, right?”
“And after this, I won’t be offering any coffee. You won’t get past the door again, so don’t waste your time. Please.”
“Don’t worry, Mary. I never waste my time.” Briefcase in hand, he rose.
Mary pushed herself upright, too, with effort. The weird cramping was worse than before. And all at once, she was sweating, at her hairline, on her upper lip and under her arms.
And the cramps really were bad. They scared her, shooting around her distended belly from the now-constant pain in her back. It hurt so much, she had to grab the back of the chair to keep from crumpling to the floor. A soft cry escaped her.
“Mary.” Gabe’s voice came to her. He sounded really worried. Gabe Bravo. Mr. Smooth. Worried. Somehow, that scared her more than anything. More than the sudden sweat dripping down her face. More than the horrible, squeezing pain. “Mary, what’s wrong?”
She couldn’t talk, couldn’t answer. She clutched the chair back, groaning.
And then something shifted down low inside her. A dropping sensation, as if someone had bounced a boulder on the floor of her womb. She let out a guttural cry as she felt the wetness in her panties. It couldn’t be…
But it was.
Her water had broken.
Chapter Three
Handsome, clever Gabe Bravo was looking at her strangely.
He said her name again, with urgency. “Mary!” His briefcase hit the floor with a smack as he lunged to catch her before she fell. She collapsed against him, moaning.
So embarrassing. To be groaning like this, holding her belly, sweating profusely—and leaning on this rich, slick stranger. But she couldn’t help it. If she didn’t let him hold her up, she would be on the floor.
Sagging in his strong arms, she felt the wetness as it dripped out of her. Not a flood. Uh-uh. More of an ooze. A slimy dribble. Mary shuddered at the icky feel of it.
“You’re shaking,” Gabe said. “What the hell is going on?”
She looked up to meet his worried eyes. “My, um, my water just broke. I think I have to go and have my baby…”
His bronze brows drew together. “Now?”
“Yes. I think so. Now.”
“You’re serious.”
“I certainly am.” Another cramp took her, this one worse than the last. Stronger. More overwhelming. “Aungh…” All she could do was clutch her belly with one hand and his arm with the other and groan like something not quite human.
He didn’t leave her. He stayed there, holding her up as the cramp crested and finally began to recede. When the pain eased, as she panted and sweated in the aftermath of it, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” She looked at him with horror. She didn’t even know him, and he was going to make her comfortable? Rowdy, she cried inside. Oh, Rowdy. I need you. I need you so bad. Why aren’t you here? What she said was, “I.. .no. I’ll be fine. Really. And you need to go.”
“Come on,” he said again, as if she hadn’t spoken. He started for the living room, guiding her along, his arm around her waist, keeping her upright at the same time as he urged her forward.
“Did you hear what I said?” She tried to jerk away.
He held on. “I heard you. And I’m not leaving. Not until you’ve called for help.”
Okay. He had a point. She was in no condition to be left alone. And as she shuffled away from the table, she realized she didn’t dare let go of him, after all. Another cramp might come. She would end up on the floor.
The short walk, as she clung to him, stumbling along, panting, still leaking fluid under her jeans, seemed to take forever. When they got there, he helped her to sit, holding on to steady her as she lowered herself.
Halfway down to the sofa cushions, she let out a yelp. “No! I don’t think I can…really, I can’t…” What was she saying? She had no idea. “Oh, I’m so scared. This isn’t supposed to be…not now. Too early. I have three weeks yet…”
“Shh,” he said, so softly. “Mary. It’s all right. Whatever’s going on, you’ll get through it. You will. You’re going to be fine…”
“Fine?” She stared at him, frantic, sweat in her eyes. “Fine?” She spat the word at him.
“Yes. Fine.” His blue gaze didn’t waver. “Now, come on. Sit down. You can do it. Come on…”
And somehow, she did do it. Clutching his arm like a lifeline, she allowed him to guide her the rest of the way down.
“Good,” he said softly, when at last she was seated. “Now, let’s take off your shoes and you can stretch out.”
“No!” She slapped his gentle hand away and pressed her legs together in an attempt to hide the dark stains on her jeans. While she was staggering here from the kitchen, the fluid had run all the way down into her Keds. She was not taking off her shoes, all wet and sticky, in front of a man she’d met less than an hour ago.
Mary groaned low again. The groan deepened to an animal growl as the next cramp struck. She grabbed his hand tight again, suddenly needing the contact. So what if she didn’t know him? He was there and that was everything. Curling over herself, one hand under her belly, the other holding tight to Gabe Bravo, she moaned long and loudly.
Somewhere in the middle of that one, he said, “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No.” She clutched his hand for dear life, squeezing it till she heard the finger joints pop. “Wait. Stay. You have to…one minute…”
