The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara Daille White
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Now or never. She would rather never, but that hadn’t been the agreement she had made with Reagan.
She went to the rear passenger door and knelt on the back seat to unhook the safety harness. “This is only your first time out here at the ranch, isn’t it?” Her hands shook just a tiny bit. So did her voice.
The baby looked up at her. He had slept through the entire ride, as if the bouncing of her car on the frequently uneven road had soothed him. Maybe the wobbly sound of her voice had the same effect. If that was the case, she would let her nerves take over and talk to him all day long.
She transferred him to his baby seat and strapped him in. “I’ve only been out to the ranch once before. My mama and the other ladies of the women’s circle sometimes have special Saturday meetings. And one Saturday a long time ago, when Mrs. Chase, your abuela—your grandma—had the meeting here, she invited all of the ladies to bring their kids along.”
After hoisting her purse and the diaper bag onto one shoulder, she picked up the baby in his carrier.
So far, so good. Keep talking.
“This was when I was in junior high school. You’ll find out all about school someday. Anyway, that Saturday, I got to see your daddy.” The memory made her voice suddenly rise. She looked at the baby in alarm, but he simply stared up at her. “He was grooming his horse outside the barn. And would you believe, I got hit with an attack of shyness. Me, Ally Martinez, The Girl Most Likely to Make You Laugh. Crazy, isn’t it? Well. I sat on the darned corral fence for almost an hour, never even saying hello, just watching him work.”
As she went up the steps to the house, she shot a fond glance toward the corral. Then she looked down at the baby. Sean seemed transfixed by her story. Maybe there wouldn’t be much to this babysitting, after all.
Reagan had told her the kitchen door at the back of the house would be open. She went inside and took the baby over to the table.
She hadn’t gotten her fill of Reagan that day long ago, but it was the first time she had ever been able to sit and stare at him unnoticed by anyone. Including him, unfortunately.
“Your daddy’s a couple of years older than I am,” she explained. “Well...probably closer to three, and I guess he thought I was just a little kid. He never did pay much attention to me.” Leaning closer to the baby, she whispered, “But let me tell you, things are going to change now. What do you think of that?”
The baby looked up and instantly gave her his answer. He stiffened his arms and legs, scrunched up his face and let out a screech.
“Hush,” she said hurriedly, rocking the seat slightly. The movement did no good and even seemed to upset the baby more. “Shh-h-h. Shh-h-h. Don’t cry, baby. Your daddy will hear you and fire me on the spot.”
“I already hear him.”
She jumped and let out a screech even louder than Sean’s.
Reagan’s voice had come from the other side of the kitchen. Reluctant to turn and face him, she stared down at the baby, whose face was getting redder by the minute. So was hers, judging by the heat flooding her cheeks. Reagan had heard the baby crying. But had he also heard anything she had said to the baby?
Suddenly, Reagan was standing beside her. He had sturdy hands with long fingers, and in seconds he had unfastened the straps around the baby. “When a kid’s this wrought-up,” he said, “rocking the seat’s not going to help. He needs out of here.” He lifted Sean and placed him against his shoulder.
She noted he cupped his hand around the back of the baby’s head just the way Tina had taught her.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Mrs. B fed him not long before you went to pick him up.”
She nodded. “That’s what she said. But he was fine in the car. He didn’t let out a peep the entire trip.”
“He’s making up for it now.” He patted the infant’s back. “He’s probably battling some gas from his formula.”
Again, she nodded. In the past, she had heard both Tina and Andi say something similar about one of their babies. Obviously, it was common with little ones. Why hadn’t she thought of that herself now?
She hadn’t been in the house two minutes yet, and already she had given Reagan reason to think she couldn’t handle the job he needed her to do.
* * *
SEAN SQUAWKED IN Reagan’s ear. “Shh-h-h,” he said, the way Ally had done. The baby quieted, but only a daddy with zero experience would expect that to last.
“Come on,” he said, “while we can hear ourselves talk, let me take you up and show you where to find all the baby’s things.” Leading the way, he left the kitchen and went to the stairs.
He was having trouble getting an image out of his mind, the sight of Ally leaning over the baby seat and whispering to his son. He had overheard the tail end of her one-sided conversation, and he was having trouble forgetting what she had said right before she had lowered her voice.
I guess he thought I was just a little kid. He never did pay much attention to me.
She meant him. And she was right. He hadn’t paid her much mind years ago. Three years’ difference, give or take, made a big gap between a grade-school girl and a kid in junior high. The division between junior high and high school had caused a greater divide. Then, it had seemed like a big reason to avoid her. Not that he’d had any interest in her, anyway. He had thought of her as just a kid.
But as he looked at her now—
Sean let out another squawk.
Good boy, trying to get his daddy’s attention back where it belonged.
He cleared his throat and deliberately faced forward as they went along the upstairs hall. “Ignore the mess downstairs. When I was out here the other day, I got as far as cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, and that’s it. You might’ve seen the baby’s playpen in the corner of the kitchen.”
“I did.”
“I moved a portable television into that area, too, and a stack of magazines. You should avoid the other rooms downstairs until I have a chance to give them a good going-over. Upstairs, I’ve only tackled one bedroom and the bathroom. So this little guy and I are bunking together in my old room. The memories might remain, but at least the dust is gone.”
A dumb statement. He hadn’t meant it to come out sounding so pathetic. It was too late to take the words back and too late to stop Ally from following him into the room. He turned as she stopped short just inside the doorway and looked around.
He let his glance rove over what she was seeing. The baby’s portable crib. The pine bedroom set. The shelves still filled with memorabilia from his childhood interests and high school days.
“Is this the way the room looked when you were a kid?” she asked. “With the football and baseball pennants and the autographed balls, the 4-H ribbons and all the trophies?”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “When I left for school, my mom wanted to leave everything the way it was. I think she believed I’d want to come back and relive the memories of all my school years.”
“Those were the days,” she said drily.
Was she thinking again about the times he hadn’t paid attention to her?
Blinking, she gave him a small smile. “I’m sure she missed you a lot while you were gone.”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “You know...only child, and all that.”
“Me, too. But unlike you, I never left my mama.”
Again, he wished he could go back and change the past. If not for his fight with his dad, he might have gotten to see his parents a lot more in those years after he left for college. By the time he had earned his degree, he had lost any chance to see his mom at all. Then, a year ago, he