lack thereof—wasn’t any of her concern.
Not that she was completely in the dark about Clay. He might have been “one of the Rust Creek Falls’ Traubs” but he was related to the Thunder Canyon Traubs, which meant that a fair amount of information about him was circulating around town. Including that he was one of six sons and had previously worked on the family ranch in Rust Creek Falls with four of his brothers. Only Forrest had opted for a different career, choosing to enlist in the military and fight for his country. He’d returned from the war in Iraq with an injured leg that was being treated by Dr. North at Thunder Canyon General Hospital. And PTSD, according to some whispers.
Since moving into the boarding house, both Clay and Forrest had been the subjects of as much admiration as speculation. The female population, in particular, seemed curious about these “real” cowboys who had come to town and were eager to get to know them better. Antonia didn’t think either of the brothers had encouraged the attention, but she couldn’t blame the women for their interest. Clayton and Forrest were both sinfully good-looking but, from day one, her heart had been firmly ensnared by Bennett.
“That’s why we like to come later,” Clay said, drawing her attention back to their conversation. “So Bennett can flirt with his favorite girl.”
“You need to raise your standards,” she told the little boy. Then, to his father, “And I really need to get this coffee into the dining room—where Forrest is already seated at your usual table.”
“Of course.” He stepped back so that she could move past him into the dining room.
As she did, she was conscious of his gaze following her. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Because why would Clay be watching her? Why would any man look twice at a woman whose belly entered a room ten seconds before the rest of her body did?
Okay, she knew she wasn’t really as enormous as she felt, but having to sneak into her father’s closet to find a shirt that would button over her baby bump made her feel huge and unattractive. Having a man pay any amount of attention to her was a boost to her battered ego—and when that man was as incredibly good-looking as Clayton Traub, well, she could probably be forgiven for letting her imagination run away.
Because even if he didn’t have any kind of romantic interest—and again, she’d be more shocked if he did—she enjoyed the brief conversations they occasionally shared over breakfast or dinner. Even after five weeks, she wouldn’t say she knew him well, but she did know him well enough to appreciate his straightforward manner and easygoing personality.
Mostly she appreciated that he didn’t ask too many questions. Having been the subject of so many whispers and rumors since her pregnancy became public knowledge, she was happy to talk to someone who didn’t want to know or seem to care about the father of her baby. And it warmed her heart immeasurably to witness the obvious affection between Clay and his son.
Obviously some men were able to embrace the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood. Unfortunately for Antonia, the father of her baby wasn’t one of them.
There had been more than a hint of fall in the air when Clay made his way to the main house for breakfast, reminding him that he’d already been in Thunder Canyon for longer than the few weeks he’d originally planned to stay. As he settled Bennett into the high chair that Toni had set at one end of the long table, it occurred to him that maybe it was time to go back to Rust Creek Falls and the family ranch. But he wasn’t ready to leave Thunder Canyon, not just yet.
He felt more than a little guilty that he’d bailed on his father and his responsibilities at the ranch—even if he’d done so with his mother’s blessing. Of course, Bob Traub was more than capable of handling things on his own. Hell, he’d been managing the whole spread since long before any of his sons had even been born, and he’d be the first to take issue with anyone who suggested that he wasn’t still capable of doing so.
He certainly hadn’t tried to prevent Clay from leaving. In fact, he’d agreed that it was a good idea for him to get away from Rust Creek Falls for a while. But when he’d encouraged his son to head west, Clay suspected that he meant a little farther west than Thunder Canyon—no doubt hoping that he would track down Delia in California and convince her to marry him so that their son would have a proper family.
Bob and Ellie Traub had raised their sons with traditional values and a strict moral code of behavior, and Clay believed in accepting responsibility for his actions. But he did not believe that marrying Delia was the answer, and he wanted something better for his son than a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in being a mother.
But until he figured out what that was, he was enjoying his time in Thunder Canyon. He liked the town and he had no complaints at all about the accommodations at Wright’s Way. The only real problem, from his perspective, was the inexplicable attraction he felt whenever he was around his landlady.
His very pregnant landlady, as he continually had to remind himself. Because any man could be forgiven for thinking lustful thoughts about an attractive woman—and Toni was no doubt an extremely attractive woman—but she was also an expectant mother, and contemplating any such ideas about a mother-to-be just seemed wrong.
Of course, that knowledge and even his own internal reprimands didn’t stop the thoughts from forming in his mind. And seeing Toni at the family-style breakfast she prepared for the boarders every morning somehow only further fanned the flames of his desire. A realization that, as he settled into the chair beside his son and across from his brother, continued to baffle him.
He’d always appreciated the company of women and, in the past, he’d enjoyed countless casual dates and numerous carefree liaisons. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He had a child to consider now—as would Toni in the very near future.
Clay had never imagined himself as a father. Not that he’d precluded the possibility from his future, he simply hadn’t thought he was ready for the responsibility at this point in his life. Delia showing up on his doorstep with a baby had taken that choice out of his hands. And while he would fight tooth and nail to protect his child, the little boy was all the responsibility Clay could—or wanted to—handle at this point in his life. He certainly didn’t want or need the complication of a personal relationship right now, and hooking up with a woman who had a baby of her own on the way would just be crazy.
No one had ever had cause to question Clay’s sanity in the past, so why was he so drawn to this particular woman? Why now?
Toni set a plastic bowl on the tray of Bennett’s high chair, and the little boy immediately reached into it, wrapping his fist around a handful of scrambled egg and then shoving his fist into his mouth.
She ruffled his hair and smiled. “You’re a hungry little guy today, are you?”
Bennett’s only response was to reach into the bowl with his other fist.
“He’s got a healthy appetite,” Clay told her.
“Growing boys need to eat,” Antonia noted.
“So do grown men,” Forrest pointed out.
Toni shifted her attention to the man seated on the other side of the table, her cheeks flushing as she took the empty platter from his hands.
“Coming right up,” she promised.
Clay scowled at his brother. “Don’t you think that was a little rude?”
“What was rude? Interrupting your flirting?” Forrest asked.
“I wasn’t flirting.”
His brother snorted.
“I wasn’t,” Clay insisted, though he wondered why he bothered. Because even if he had been flirting—which he wasn’t—he didn’t care what his brother thought. But he also didn’t want Toni overhearing their conversation and thinking that he had a thing for her. Because he didn’t.
“Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said something about men who protested too much?” Forrest challenged.
Bennett