The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara Daille White
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While he changed the baby, she moved around the room, checking out the trophies. “Baseball,” she said. “Football. Softball. Track. No wonder you were named all-around athlete the year you graduated.”
When he glanced up, he found her looking at him. He turned his attention back to Sean. “You remember that?”
“I was there in the stadium the day they gave out the awards. Along with three-quarters of Cowboy Creek.”
He remembered that day, too, and not because of the standing ovation.
“Is there any sport you don’t play?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said, grateful for the question and the chance to change the subject. “How about you? What’s your favorite sport?”
“Telephone tag.”
He laughed. She did, too, a low, sexy laugh very different from the high-pitched giggles he remembered hearing from her and her friends.
Sean let out another squawk.
“I guess he gets the joke, too,” she said. “Smart baby.”
“Yeah.” Blinking, he focused again on his son.
An attraction to his boy’s babysitter was something he hadn’t expected. Something he sure didn’t need, considering he planned to have her help him out as often as she could in the next week or two.
“I’d better get back to the job.” Suddenly it seemed even more important to make progress. The sooner he finished up everything he needed to do here at the ranch, the better. “I spent most of this afternoon working in the barn and want to keep at it while the light’s still good.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah.” Luckily, she didn’t comment on what would have made the most sense, tackling the house first so he could get it ready to sell. But if his bedroom held so many dusty memories, he hated to think what he would discover once he went through the rest of the rooms, the closets, the cubbyholes. “My dad has a lot stored out in the barn—tack and farm tools and all the other equipment you need to run a ranch.”
“Like everything we sell at the store,” she said. “He was a regular.”
“Yeah. Of course you know all about farming and ranching equipment.” She also probably knew more about both his parents’ later years than he did.
He lifted Sean from the bed and rested him against his shoulder again.
She stood inspecting a couple of faded photographs tacked to a bulletin board above his student desk. He looked at the photos and couldn’t help shaking his head. His mom had stuck them there just before graduation. Since he’d come home, he hadn’t had the heart to take them down.
Ally turned and flashed him a brilliant smile. “Prom king. That was another pretty impressive announcement.”
“Old times,” he said shortly. “Things change.”
“So I see.” She gestured to the other photo, the one he’d looked at more times in the past couple of days than he could count. “This is you and your parents when you were a kid, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. One of my mom’s favorite pictures, from a vacation we took to California.”
“I guessed that from the big black mouse ears you’re wearing. Maybe someday, you’ll get Sean a pair of those.”
“Maybe.” Memories crowded his mind. Ally’s light perfume stirred his senses. Suddenly feeling closed in, he said abruptly, “I’ll show you where everything’s at downstairs before I head back to the barn.”
Then, until it was time for her to leave, he would stay there, working by the exposed overhead lights. Heck, by kerosene lamp, if he had to.
* * *
IN THE QUIET of Reagan’s kitchen, it didn’t take Ally long to grow bored.
While the baby slept in his crib, she kept the television volume turned low. She watched more than she wanted to of late-afternoon comedies and early-evening news. The television stations were beginning their prime-time shows before she realized how late it was. At the same time, Sean woke up.
She moved him into his carrier on the kitchen table.
“I’m getting pretty good at these straps and buckles, aren’t I, baby?”
He looked up, his mouth pursed tightly, as if he were giving serious thought to what she had said.
“Oh, everybody’s a critic,” she told him. “I’m not expecting anything less from you than two thumbs-up.”
A peek through the window over the sink showed her the light streaming through the open doors of the barn. She turned to the baby again. “Your daddy’s still out there, and you know what? I don’t believe he’s ever coming back inside.”
It was her turn to purse her lips for a moment. “He wasn’t happy about those pictures in his bedroom, was he? Or maybe he wasn’t happy about the fact that I saw them. I guess I can’t argue about that. It has to be so hard for him, losing both his mama and daddy. Like you...” She peered down at the baby and asked softly, “Where’s your mama, little one?”
Naturally, he didn’t reply.
“Well, maybe you’ll tell me someday.” She smiled. “Your daddy said he’s an only child, like me. But he has you, and that’s a very good thing. I’ll bet he misses you, too, while he’s in the barn working all by himself. Let’s go see.” She picked up the carrier.
Outside, the night was still warm from the day’s heat. It wasn’t pitch-dark yet, but the moon already cast a faint glow against the dimness of the sky. “There’s a man in that moon up there,” she told Sean, “and one day, your daddy will show him to you.”
As they approached the barn, she heard a noise she recognized from the store, the familiar sound of wooden planks thudding against one another. Through the doorway, she could see Reagan piling lumber in one corner near the stalls. He was so intent on his work, he didn’t hear her enter, not even when she cleared her throat to get his attention.
Oh, well. She had done what she could, hadn’t she? It wouldn’t be fair to call out his name and startle him.
Instead, she stood there getting a good look. She took in the sight of his threadbare jeans, his sweat-dampened back, his muscles bunching and flexing as he shifted one load after another of scrap lumber.
It wasn’t until she stood admiring his pecs and abs that she realized he had turned and stood looking at her.
Oops.
Recovering quickly, she gave a wolf whistle. “You need to apply for a job at the store. Think what having you on the payroll will do for our profits. After one look at you, all the women in Cowboy Creek will instantly become do-it-yourselfers.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, but I do. Keep in mind I’m comfortable making the suggestion because I get paid by the hour. You wouldn’t have to worry about cutting into my commissions.”
“With all the wranglers who must stop in just to see you, I’d probably have to worry more about you cutting into mine.”
“A compliment, Reagan Chase?” she said archly, batting her lashes like one of the actresses from her mama’s favorite late-night movies. “How unexpected. But I’m flattered.”
He looked as if he had had second thoughts about what he had said. Maybe she’d overdone it on the exaggerated flirting attempt.
“Yeah. Well.” His smile seemed forced. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I won’t.” No chance of that. His words had gone straight to her heart. Obviously, she had been foolish to think he had meant them.
Afraid