never eaten here.”
“This isn’t your style, Faith. Those businessmen you date prefer other places. This is pretty simple,” he said as he unbuckled the carrier and lifted it from the rear seat of the pickup. He closed the door and took her arm.
They entered a small, one-room café with wooden tables, an old-fashioned jukebox and men on stools along the bar at the end of the room. A few customers were scattered at booths and tables around the room. Jared led her to a booth and placed the carrier on the seat. He hung his hat on a peg before sitting down to face Faith. As soon as they had glasses of water and had ordered their meals, he took a drink of the beer he had requested and then lowered the bottle to study her.
“Tell me about yourself, Faith. How many brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews do you have?”
“I’m next to the oldest of five siblings. My brothers and sisters are married and all have children.”
“So you’re the career woman.”
She looked down, running her fingers on the cold glass, and watched as little drops of water dripped to the table. “I am. To tell the truth, it’s beginning to get a little stale.”
“How so? You looked pretty dedicated back there.”
“I used to love my work and couldn’t wait to get to the office. It was fun and I was eager and it was exciting.” She glanced up to meet his steady, disconcerting gaze. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
“Because I’m a good listener,” he answered lightly. “If you feel that way, why don’t you ease up? Go out more. Date. Maybe you’re suffering burnout.”
“I keep telling myself I don’t have burnout, but I don’t feel like I used to.... Anyway, now you tell me about you. Two brothers. Where are your parents?” She saw him arch one brow; otherwise, there was no indication she had struck a nerve.
“My parents, darlin’, are no longer living. My grandparents are full-blood Kiowa. My brothers and I didn’t have the same fathers. Actually, we didn’t have any legal fathers—all of them were common-law husbands. My blood father was alcoholic, verbally abusive—not a sterling character.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, saddened by the knowledge that his past had been so vastly different from her own happy childhood.
He shrugged. “I have two older brothers who are great. Wyatt has grown up with a sense of right and wrong that is powerful.”
“Did he get that from your mother?”
“Oh, hell, no.” Jared paused as plates of spaghetti with thick red sauce were placed before them. The waitress set a basket with hot, golden breadsticks on the table.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
“No, thanks,” Jared answered when Faith shook her head.
“You were telling me about your brother Wyatt,” Faith prompted, curious about Jared’s family.
“Wyatt got his fine-tuned conviction of what’s right and wrong from our granddad. We spent a lot of time on the farm with him. My grandparents live in southern Oklahoma, and they were the Rock of Gibraltar in our lives. We moved all over. I ran away when I was sixteen, so I didn’t finish high school,” he said, giving her a level look. “And why do I suspect you have more than one college degree?”
Surprised he had guessed, she shrugged. “I didn’t think it showed,” she answered lightly. “I have my MBA and a degree in graphic art.”
“So our life-styles and our backgrounds are different,” he said, putting his fork down. He leaned across the table, sliding his hand behind her head.
She inhaled, his touch bringing a tingling awareness to her whole body. Her pulse raced, and she felt as if she was drowning in his dark eyes. “You have a fancy executive job while I drift across the country riding horses and bulls. Even with all these glaring differences, why do I suspect we have some very common ground between us?”
“I don’t think we do have any common ground,” she whispered, barely able to get her voice. He was like a magnet, stirring and pulling everything to him.
He leaned back and placed her barrette on the table. “I like your hair better that way,” he said.
She touched her hair in surprise. “I didn’t even feel you take that out.”
Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “I have a practiced hand,” he drawled. “A very sensitive touch.” She suspected he was not talking about taking out barrettes, but she had never been into light flirting and double entendres, so she let the remarks drop.
“I’ll tell you some common ground,” he continued cheerfully. “You like Merry, and from the way you look at her, you like little babies a whole damn lot.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, trying to gather her wits and pick up the thread of his conversation.
“Tell me more about yourself. What do you want out of life?”
She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had asked her that question. Or if anyone ever had asked her. She paused, her fork halting. “When I was a little girl, I collected dolls, and all I wanted was to grow up, get married and have babies. Then I got older and began to want a successful career in graphic art. End of ambitions.”
“You want to own the company?”
“Actually, no. I like doing the design and art work. I’m not as interested in management.”
He smiled, a slight curving of his mouth, a satisfied glint in his eyes that made her uneasy, as if she had just passed a test.
“So tell me about your parents and how you spend holidays and where all these siblings live.”
“They all live here in Tulsa, very close to our folks and one another. We spend holidays together, and with all the little nieces and nephews it’s fun and hectic.”
Jared finished his dinner and listened to her describe her banker father, her attorney brother, Andy, her stockbroker brother, Keith, as well as her two married sisters who were home with their children. While Faith finished her spaghetti and talked, Jared felt more sure by the second that this lady was going to be special in his life. Every time she talked about marriage and babies, she got a wistful note in her voice. She might have a hell of a career, but the woman wanted a baby, and-it showed almost as plainly as if she had announced it.
When Merry stirred, he picked her up.
“I’ll hold her if she’ll let me,” Faith said, and Jared handed Merry to her. Faith settled Merry in her arms and smiled at the baby. She touched the baby’s cheek. “How did you get to know her father?”
“Rodeo. He was into bull riding and saddle broncs just like I am. I knew Merry’s mother, too. She was a good-looking woman. Too damn good-looking. She never intended to get pregnant, and when Merry was born, she took off. She never married Dusty, and she told him she didn’t want any part of their kid. Some mother,” he said.
“So how did you become father to her? Or would you rather not talk about it?”
“Dusty lost control of his pickup and he was thrown out. He didn’t wear a seat belt and his internal injuries were terrible.” Faith sat quietly while silence stretched between them, and she knew he was having another struggle with his emotions.
“Jared, I didn’t mean to pry,” she said softly, reaching out to cover his hand with hers.
He turned his head away, pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes. “Sorry. It seems like yesterday. I got to the hospital as fast as I could. Dusty asked me to take Merry. I didn’t want to. Hell, I felt inadequate to be a dad. I damned sure didn’t have a good role model growing up.”
“Sounds as if you did in your grandfather.”
“Yeah,