Page 25 of Calder Strong (The Calder Brand #5)

“Maybe.” Joseph pulled into a parking spot outside Jake’s Place. “My dad’s taken a shine to him. That’s a point in his favor. And I don’t know where he’ll go if I turn him loose. We’ll see how it goes.”

He escorted her into the restaurant. Almost all of the tables were occupied; but the most private one, in the corner, was vacant, as if it had been saved for them.

As he held her chair, he could sense the gaze of envious eyes. Most of the diners were male. Tonight Joseph felt like the luckiest man here.

“Good evening, you two.” The woman called Lola had appeared next to the table, her scars partly veiled by the black mantilla she wore.

“My, don’t you make a lovely pair? What a pity we don’t have champagne, or at least a good cabernet.

” Her sharp eyes darted from Francine to Joseph.

Something about those eyes—half hidden by the mantilla—triggered a hair-raising chill, like a cold hand on the back of Joseph’s neck.

But this was no time for distraction—not while he was sitting across the table from the woman of his dreams.

“So, what’s your pleasure this evening?” Lola asked. “Is this a special occasion?”

It was Francine who answered. “No, just a lovely dinner between friends. For now.” She gave Joseph a mysterious glance, as if to suggest that things could change. “I’ll have the roast chicken, please.”

“And you, Mr. Dollarhide?” There was an edge to her gravelly voice. Did her tone carry a hidden meaning? But he was imagining things. Until a few weeks ago, he had never met the lady.

Joseph ordered a steak, medium rare. The Dollarhide Ranch raised good beef, but it was never as tender or flavorful as the meat that was served here. The smartest thing Lola had done was to keep Jake’s cook, Smitty, along with his secret recipes.

As the woman turned to go, the movement brushed aside the edge of her mantilla.

Joseph glimpsed a twisted smile, directed not at him but at Francine.

Francine didn’t respond, but as Lola disappeared into the kitchen, her hand crept across the table and found Joseph’s.

The touch of her satiny palm sent a pleasing tingle up Joseph’s arm.

His pulse quickened, and his fingers closed around hers and lingered. The evening was off to a good start.

On the far side of the room, three men in ranch clothes sat around a table finishing their meal. Coming in, Joseph hadn’t paid them much attention. But now, one man got up and left the table for the restroom, giving Joseph a full view of Chase Calder sitting with his back to the wall.

From where he sat, Chase had a clear view of Francine and Joseph. His gaze appeared casual, almost indifferent. But Joseph sensed that he was watching them intently.

Francine appeared not to notice him. She kept her hand in Joseph’s, her bewitching eyes focused on his face.

“Tell me about your ranch, Joseph,” she said. “I know about that awful accident and what happened to your father, of course. Is he still running things, or has he turned that over to you?”

“A little of both,” Joseph said. “I’m doing the work, but he’s still giving the orders.”

“Doesn’t that annoy you?”

“It might, if I let it. But he needs to be the one in charge. If I were to step in and push him aside, making him feel useless, that would be the cruelest thing I could do. His life would be over.”

“But you could take over if you had to?”

“Of course. I’ve learned a lot since Dad’s accident. But I’m not in a hurry to be the big boss. If running the operation gives meaning to his life, then, for the time he has left, I’m all for it. Not that I know everything. I still have questions for him.”

“You’re a good man, Joseph,” she said. “Maybe too good. The wrong people might find it easy to take advantage of you.”

Chase was still seated, still watching them. That was when Joseph realized he didn’t like where the conversation was going. Was that what she saw in Chase—that ruthless, fire-in-the-belly ambition that was part of being a Calder? Was that what she wanted in a man?

Was that what he wanted for himself—to be another Chase Calder?

What if he were to tell her that all he really wanted was to breed, break, and train beautiful horses, like his grandfather had done?

The tension eased when a waiter brought their meals. Chase and his companions got up and left the restaurant. Joseph willed himself to relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. When he encouraged Francine to talk, she told him about her sheltered childhood in a small Indiana town.

“I always wanted to become a teacher,” she said.

“But when my mother passed away, I had to stay home and take care of my father, who was an invalid. By the time he died, I was already an old maid by society’s standards.

I could have married the bank president.

He was a widower, wealthy, and very respectable.

But that wasn’t the life for me. I wanted to follow my dream.

So when I read a newspaper notice about a teaching job in the wilds of Montana, I applied—and here I am. ”

“So you followed your dream,” Joseph said. “But there must be more to the dream than teaching school. What do you see for yourself in the years ahead?”

“Oh, a family, of course. Isn’t that what most women want? But I’m enjoying my freedom. I’m in no hurry to settle down.”

“That sounds like a sensible plan—for a sensible woman.” They had finished their meals, including apple pie for dessert.

Joseph paid the check, escorted Francine to the car, and drove her home.

By now it was night. In the east, the moon was showing a golden edge above the peaks.

The setting was romantic enough for what Joseph hoped would come next.

After a moment’s hesitation, when she showed no sign of moving toward him, he got out of the car and walked her to her doorstep.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” she said. “I’d invite you in, but I need to start working on my lesson plans tomorrow, and I want to get an early start.”

“I understand. Sleep well, Francine.”

He was bracing for disappointment when she came to him, melting into his arms, raising her face for his kiss—a kiss that became everything he’d hoped it might be.

The taste of apple pie lingered on her warm lips.

They were satin smooth and cushion soft, molding to his with a teasing flick of tongue that set him ablaze.

The fragrance of lilacs swam in his senses as her arms crept around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the sweet, sensual contact of their mouths.

Joseph’s fantasies went wild. His tongue met hers in a playful, erotic dance that brought him to an aching arousal.

For the price of a chewing gum pack, he could have swept her up in his arms, carried her inside to the bed, and explored all the places where she’d dabbed that maddening lilac scent of hers.

But he wasn’t looking for a meaningless tumble between the sheets. Francine was a proper lady. Winning her would take respect and restraint. Reluctantly, he eased away from her. She stepped back, smiling up at him.

“I had a wonderful time, Joseph. I’d love to do this again, but I don’t want to rush anything. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Catching her hand, he brushed a playful kiss across her knuckles. “Goodnight, Francine.”

She was watching his taillights vanish up the street when Chase came around the corner of the house and walked up to the porch. Fury blazed in his eyes—exactly what Francine wanted to see.

“Damn it, woman! I thought he’d never leave. And that kiss! Good God, did you have to let him go that far? Watching you almost drove me crazy!”

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asked with a mischievous glance.

“Guess.” He seized her roughly and swept her into the house.