would be even if you lived in different countries. You’re going to have to deal with it.”
Christina’s mouth popped open during this speech, the air conditioning chilling her. Then she groaned.
“You’re right.” Christina scrubbed her face with one hand. “I don’t want you to be right, but you are. What am I going to do?”
“There’s only one thing to do, sweetie. Hold on to him. There are some real duds in the world—men who think women are put on earth for their personal pleasure, and who cares what we think? Or want? Or need? Grant’s not like that.”
“No,” Christina said thickly. “He’s not.”
“And I’ll tell you something else. Men are fragile. They act all macho, and they can be physically strong sometimes, but inside, they’re little boys on the playground, trying to figure out where they belong. Women scare most of them to death, so they treat us like shit to compensate. But there’s a few who aren’t threatened, and who truly love women, everything about them. Those are the ones you want to hang on to.”
Christina thought about Grant, his sexy drawl, the way his eyes went dark when he came inside her. The politeness he stuck to, no matter what, his concern for Christina and all she did.
Christina groaned again, but more softly this time. “Why is life so complicated?”
“It’s not complicated. What you do is drive over to that trailer of his, move yourself in, and stay put. If you love him so much, walk in there and start loving him.” Karen drove up the ramp to the 35 and put on a burst of speed. “It’s easy, honey. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”
Of all the advice Christina had been given about Grant, and she’d been given a lot, this was the most direct: Grab the problem by the balls and make everything work out.
Christina straightened up. “All right, but if I do move back in with Grant, I don’t want to see you hanging all over him anymore. I don’t share.” She gave Karen a stern look. “You get your cowboy fix somewhere else.”
Karen laughed. “Honey, I don’t poach. I’ve been poached on, and I’m not going there. But, sweetie, can you blame me? Grant is one fine man. Fortunately he has brothers. Carter has a little too much residual anger in him for me, but Tyler—I can go for some of that. Or Ross, as long as he wears his uniform. Oh, maybe both together.”
Christina burst out laughing. The woman was incorrigible. But also refreshingly honest.
She went quiet again. “What do I do if the baby’s Ray’s?”
“You cross that bridge when you come to it. Which will be soon. There’s the city.”
Karen gestured at the looming skyline of Dallas, bursting up out of the flat lands like a forest of steel and glass.
In a few hours, Christina would know the truth, and what direction her life would take.
Grant couldn’t hang around outside Christina’s house waiting for her to come home the next day because Carter dragged him off to the shoot.
Good thing, because he’d make a complete fool of himself pacing on Christina’s porch and peering up the street. Better to go to work like a normal person.
Sort of. Normal people didn’t ride their horses next to a moving old-time train, and then jump from saddle to train car and pretend to rob the passengers.
Buster was better this morning, but none of the brothers wanted to run him in case something really was wrong with him. They used Bobby and a couple others, but Grant knew they’d be re-taking some of this.
Tyler fell twice before he finally got himself on the damn train. Then it was Grant’s turn. Hampered by duster, bandanna, and double holsters with pistols, Grant galloped Bobby alongside one of the passenger cars, looking for his opening.
Bobby, unlike Buster, who would run straight until he decided to stop, liked to swing his body in the opposite direction from the jump as his rider left the saddle. Grant would have to compensate for that.
Also for the fact that his mind was not on the job. He was worried about Christina and wouldn’t feel good until he knew she was home. Safe.
He knew in his heart that this would be his last chance with her. Carter was right—if Grant screwed things up this time, it would be forever.
The train hit the straight stretch of track Grant had been waiting for. Bobby was right on stride. Grant crouched, readied himself, and