The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara Daille White
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at her grandmother, then reached across the table and squeezed Jed’s laced fingers. “You wouldn’t be you, Abuelo, if you didn’t care so much about everyone. This is between you, me and Abuela only, but...Ally has always had a crush on Reagan.”
“Well, then, all the more reason for me to get up to some scheming, as you called it. Surely, you can’t object if I want to help her.”
Now she looked down and touched her baby’s cheek. “No, I can’t say I really object. Ally’s my best friend. I want her to be as happy as I am.”
“Good. First, we’ll have to find out exactly what Reagan’s status is. If he’s unattached...”
“Any free man is fair game?”
“Exactly right.”
“Ally would never speak to me again if she knew I was encouraging you to play matchmaker for her.”
“And that’s exactly right, too,” he said with a grin. “If she knew. But there’s no need for her or Reagan to find out.”
“And how will you manage that, Jed?” Paz asked. She dried her hands on a towel and took a seat at the table. The fine silver threads in her dark hair winked in the overhead light.
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet. But don’t you worry, I’m ready and willing to face the challenge. I’ll come up with something.”
“You won’t have much time,” Tina told him. “Ally said Reagan is leaving again as soon as he has the house cleared out and ready to go on the market.”
“Then I’ll have to work quickly, won’t I?” He smiled. “Fortunately, as you both know, I do my best work under pressure.”
* * *
ALLY TOOK A deep breath and climbed the porch to Mrs. Browley’s front door. It sure wasn’t the idea of seeing her mama’s friend that made her need the reassurance. Taking another deep breath, she rang the doorbell and filled her mind with positive thoughts.
Piece of cake. Sopaipilla cheesecake. I can do this.
A few moments later, the door opened and she was greeted with a friendly welcome and a big hug. The older woman who stood beaming at her wore her white hair pulled back into her usual bun and eyed Ally over a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.
“Hi, Mrs. Browley. I’m here to pick up the special delivery package you’re holding for me.”
Mrs. Browley laughed. “Ally. Come in, dear. That little package of yours is waiting happily to make your acquaintance.”
That wouldn’t last long.
Slowly, she followed the woman down the hallway to the kitchen. She glanced at the padded diaper bag sitting on the small table. She looked at the baby carrier resting beside it. And finally, she stared at the baby inside the carrier.
He was tiny, not much bigger than Tina’s newborn. A few wispy curls lay against his scalp. “His hair’s so much lighter than Reagan’s,” she blurted.
“It is,” Mrs. Browley agreed. “That may darken as he gets older. Or he may take after his mother.”
She shot a glance at the older woman. Could Reagan have told Mrs. Browley the “long story” he didn’t want to share with her about why he wasn’t married? But the other woman just looked down at the baby.
Ally did, too. The baby stared up at her, his eyes only half open.
“Those eyes, though,” Mrs. Browley said, “are just like the blue of his daddy’s. Aren’t they, Sean?” The baby’s eyelids drifted closed, then fluttered open. She laughed softly. “He just finished eating, and now he’s fighting sleep. You should have a nice, quiet ride out to Reagan’s ranch.”
“I hope so.” And with one feeding out of the way, she might get a reprieve from having to give the baby his bottle today. Two afternoons’ worth of lessons with Tina and Andi had left her feeling a tiny bit more comfortable but nowhere near competent. And to her relief, at least neither Tina’s infant nor Andi’s little girl had protested when Ally held them. She had no guarantee of the same result with Reagan’s baby.
Mrs. Browley gave a heavy sigh.
Ally tensed. “Is there something wrong?”
The other woman shook her head sadly. “Just thinking about yesterday. I saw Jed Garland at Sugar’s, and we were discussing Reagan.”
“You were?” Ally eyed her from under her lashes. This didn’t sound promising. Everyone in town knew anytime Jed or Sugar involved a third party in one of their conversations, at least two of those three were up to something.
“We all knew both Reagan’s parents, of course,” Mrs. Browley said. “And we think that boy is going to have a hard time out at the ranch. Sandra was a wonderful wife and mother, and an excellent housekeeper, too. But she liked her crafts just as much as any of us in the women’s circle do. And she was a fabulous cook. Their place was filled with so many of her handmade decorations, and lots of material and yarn and cookbooks and all kinds of kitchen equipment.”
Ally tried not to grimace. At home, Mama often rolled her eyes and moaned that Ally would never learn to cook. She would reply she did know how—she did just fine with a box and a microwave, didn’t she? “Wouldn’t his father have gotten rid of some of those things, or given them away?”
“No. It was hard on Larry when Sandra got so sick. I know for a fact he couldn’t bring himself to touch any of her things once she passed on.” She rested her hand on Ally’s arm. “Having your help with the baby will give Reagan more time to focus on what needs to be done.”
And give her more time to waver between wanting to run from the ranch and longing to be with him.
“Well.” She looked at the baby, whose eyes were now fully closed. “I guess it’s time to get moving with Sleepy Beauty here.”
“Sleeping Beauty, I think you mean, dear. Although she was a girl, not a boy.” Mrs. Browley’s eyebrows dipped in a concerned frown.
“Don’t worry.” She laughed. “I do know the difference. You know I always joke when I’m feeling uptight.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that applied here. There’s nothing to be nervous about. This little angel won’t give you a bit of worry.”
Ally nodded. She only wished she could feel as confident.
No wonder Reagan didn’t want to make the trip into town and back again twice in one day.
Ally had visited his family’s ranch once and knew it was small compared with most of the properties around Cowboy Creek. The narrow rectangular piece of land lay tucked between two larger spreads. But the ride had been longer than she remembered.
As she pulled the car up to the ranch house, she peeked into her rearview mirror at the car seat Reagan had left for her at Mrs. Browley’s house. Luckily, she had gotten instructions from Tina on the right way to install the seat in the car and then how to fasten the baby safely inside.
Another mirror suction-cupped to the back window reflected the infant’s image. In the frequent quick peeks she had taken on the drive to the ranch, she hadn’t seen him stir. Now, his eyes were open, blinking in the light, staring up at the mirror.
“Hey, baby,” she said softly. “So, you’re awake. Listen, the two of us are going to get along great. No tricks, no temper tantrums on your part. And only first-class care on mine. I promise you that. After all, I’ve been trained by the best. There’s nothing like learning your trade from a brand-new mama.”
She winced. As far as she knew, the baby didn’t have a mama. Had he ever heard the word before? How would he react