A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(46)
Author: Brenda Novak

Rebecca looked at Delaney, obviously trying to determine whether or not she should get involved, and Delaney waved her on. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

Rebecca hesitated another second, but finally nodded and left, and Delaney watched Conner’s eyes follow her friend across the floor.

“Your partner in crime,” he said.

“She means well.”

“And what about you, Laney? Do you mean well?”

Delaney could smell his cologne, feel his breath on her face. His hands gently massaged her back and held her closer, making her wonder where he was going with all this. Was he still trying to punish her in some way? His anger obviously hadn’t cooled. Delaney wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her. So why was he dancing with her now?

“Do you want to hear another apology? Is that what you want?” she asked, letting her confusion show in her voice.

He frowned at her, then shook his head and suddenly released her. “I don’t know what I want,” he said, and walked off, leaving her standing on the dance floor staring after him.

CONNER DOWNED the contents of his glass, hoping the alcohol would calm the conflicting emotions inside him. He was angry—but that was okay. Considering the circumstances, anger was a reasonable reaction. What wasn’t so reasonable was the jealousy that twisted inside him every time he saw Delaney dancing or laughing with someone else. The child she carried belonged to him. But she didn’t. As she’d informed him, he had no say over what she did, and he couldn’t figure out why her freedom to interact with other men bothered him so much.

Except she owed him something, didn’t she?

He couldn’t decide. What had happened in Boise was simply a one-night stand. He’d had brief encounters with other women, women from whom he wouldn’t have accepted any claims later on. But this time there was a baby involved, and a baby was a tie that could never be broken. That meant they owed each other something. In his mind, Delaney had no business milling about the singles’ scene.

Only she was still single. And he was here tonight, wasn’t he? If she shouldn’t be acting as though she was available, did that mean he shouldn’t, either?

“Looks like you’re having a great time. I’m glad I brought you,” Roy said, turning back from a conversation he’d been having with a small group of men at the table next to them.

“I’m having a blast,” Conner replied, just as sarcastically, but before he could say more he noticed the tall blond cowboy he’d once met at the feed store approaching their table.

“Hey, Josh,” Roy said. “How’s the horse-breeding business?”

Josh nodded at him. “Roy. Can’t complain. How’s things at the Running Y?”

Roy shook his head. “Could be better. You remember Conner Armstrong, don’t you?”

“I do.” Josh reached out to shake his hand, which forced Conner to turn his thoughts away from Delaney for a few seconds.

“Good to see you again,” Conner said. “Want to sit down?”

“Sure.” Josh pulled up a chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and hooked an arm over the wooden back. “I’ll have a Heineken,” he told the waitress, who’d hurried over the moment she saw him and was smiling eagerly at them both.

“I’ll have one, too,” Conner said.

She looked expectantly at Roy, who shook his head, then told them she’d be right back.

Josh scooted his chair around so he was half facing the dance floor. “I hear you’ve put the place up for sale,” he said.

Roy’s scowl left no question as to how he felt about that, so Conner answered. “Yeah.”

“How much you askin’?”

“You in the market?”

“Possibly. My brother and I’ve been looking for some long-term investments and we think the land will be worth quite a bit someday, when the economy improves.” He shrugged. “In the meantime, we can always use the acreage to expand our business.”

Conner thought about how his grandfather had started out—as a poor country boy who’d borrowed every dime he needed to buy land and stock his first year. Somehow Clive had managed to make good, to build something out of nothing. The last thing Conner wanted was to let the symbol of that legacy slip through his fingers.

But all the nostalgia in the world couldn’t save a failing ranch. “I’ll send you a sales packet,” he said.

Josh gave him a friendly smile. “Roy knows where to find me.”

The waitress returned with their beers, and Conner insisted on buying. Josh said he’d grab the next round, but the way he kept glancing at the corner where Delaney and her friends were playing darts bothered Conner. He wasn’t sure there’d be a next round.

“You see something you like?” Conner finally asked.

“What?”

Conner indicated Delaney and her group with a nod.

Josh grimaced and brought his chair around. “No, Rebecca’s engaged. And I’m going out with someone else.”

So it was Rebecca who kept drawing his eye, not Delaney. Conner couldn’t understand any man being attracted to Rebecca over Delaney, but in that instant, he decided he liked Josh Hill, after all.

Roy chuckled. “Josh would never get involved with Rebecca, anyway. They can’t even say hello without an argument. Ain’t that right, Josh?”

“Right. I’m not a glutton for punishment,” he said, but something about the way he said it made Conner wonder whom the man was trying to convince.

“Remember that time when you two were still in high school and she wrote ‘Josh sucks’ with bleach on your lawn?” Roy asked.

“How could I forget?” Josh laughed and shook his head. “My father was furious. It took all summer to restore the grass.”

“What did you do to set her off?” Conner asked.

“Stole some panties from her gym locker and ran them up the flagpole,” Josh said with a grin. “Which was probably bad enough. Only Rebecca doesn’t wear just any panties. These were more like a thong, so she was pretty embarrassed.”

“But he didn’t have to do anything to provoke her,” Roy explained. “For some reason, she’s always had it in for him.”

Josh glanced over at Rebecca again. “Yeah, it’s a good thing she’s marrying and settling down.”

The wistfulness in his voice told Conner he wasn’t very convinced of that, either, but before the conversation could go any further, a tiny brunette—probably only five feet flat and a hundred pounds—marched up, wearing a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter sweater, and helped herself to Josh’s beer.