Christmas On The Ranch: The Rancher's Christmas Baby / Christmas Eve Cowboy. Arlene James
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have a little income from my late parents’ estate, and my sister and grandmother will help as needed. That’s where Jackie and Bella have been until now, with us at my grandmother’s.”
Dixon stopped what he was doing. “I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t want you to know until Bella was born.”
Did she really think he’d have tried to talk her out of having the baby? She didn’t know her own son very well. He shook his head and went back to work. “Can you hold up that corner over there?”
Fawn did as asked, keeping the platform level until he had the other three corners securely bolted in place. He set the fourth bolt and tightened everything down then took out his pliers.
“There’s some sag in the middle, but I think I can tighten it up. How’s that mattress?”
“Seems fine.”
“Doubt we can find any crib sheets.”
“I can make a twin work.”
“Those are in my old room.”
“I’ll find them.” She nodded toward the dresser, adding, “I suppose we should move that down and set the crib in the corner.”
“Seems right. You get the sheet. I’ll move everything.”
She didn’t argue, just went out to do as he’d directed. He couldn’t help watching her. She moved with more grace and ease than any woman he knew. And he was mooning over her like a twelve-year-old.
Irritated with himself, he removed a few drawers, then picked up a suitcase and set it on the bed before sliding the dresser down the wall. As he was putting back the drawers, he accidentally knocked the suitcase off the bed. The top of the hard case popped open, and several items spilled out. One was a small, thick photo album. He put everything back inside and placed the suitcase back on the bed, but then he picked up the photo album and opened it.
The very first picture was that of a tiny, scrunched-up infant tucked into a large Christmas stocking. That had to be him. The next page was a more formal photo, labeled, “Six Mos.” He wore a tiny suit of baby blue with short pants and satin shoes. The page opposite was a picture of Bella Jo, looking like a doll in frilly pink. He saw it then, the family resemblance, though she had more hair and looked smaller, younger. His sister.
His grandmother had been quick to point out that Bass and Phillip were his half brothers, but he wondered if she would feel the same about Bella. He hoped she wouldn’t, but he didn’t know. He loved Bass and Phil. He supposed he would love Bella, too. She was a sweet little thing. He wondered who she’d take more after, Jackie or Harry.
He hoped it was Harry. Then he wondered what Fawn would think of that. And just the fact that he might care about her opinion made him wish that he’d never laid eyes on the dark-haired beauty.
Nothing more was said about their leaving. Or staying. Fawn thought about pressing Dixon for clarification on the matter, but after he set up the crib, he made himself scarce for the rest of the evening. Exhausted, Jackie followed the baby to bed shortly after 8:00 p.m., but Fawn watched television until Bella woke at ten for a bottle. As usual, the baby woke again about five in the morning and went right back to sleep after her bottle, but Fawn always found sleep elusive after that early-morning feeding. After making coffee, she sat down at the kitchen table with her Bible and daily devotional.
She had just finished reading when Dixon walked in. Freshly shaved, he looked younger and strikingly handsome. He went straight to the coffeepot and took down an insulated travel mug from the cabinet above it.
“You’re up early.”
“Your sister likes breakfast early.”
“Let me guess who fixed the bottle.”
“Bella can’t fix her own.”
He filled the mug and screwed the top onto it before turning to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “My mother is so unwell she can’t manage a bottle of formula?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee, his gaze carefully averted. Then he broke off a banana from a bunch on the counter and began to peel and eat it.
“I’ll gladly make your breakfast,” she offered, starting to rise from her chair.
Waving her back down, he shook his head. “No time.” He went to the refrigerator, took a packaged sandwich out of a box in the freezer and carried it to the microwave. A minute later he tossed the banana peel, plucked the sandwich from the microwave oven and grabbed his travel mug. “Gotta go.”
“You work on Saturday?”
“Yep.”
“Uh, Dixon, I was wondering...”
He paused in the doorway to the mudroom. “Yeah?”
“A Christmas tree for the house would be fun and really cheer up Jackie.”
Shrugging, he turned. “We usually just cut a red cedar. I’ve tried to eradicate them on the range, but there are a few around the house. I really don’t have time for cutting one right now, though.”
“Do you have ornaments?”
“Sure. Up in the attic.”
“Okay. Now, about the fireplace. Jackie loves a fire. Would you mind if I brought in some wood and—”
“Yeah,” he interrupted, “I do. Since it’s a propane fireplace. Just flip the switch on the side of the mantel.”
“Ah.”
“Now, I gotta go.” He turned away.
“One more thing.”
Sighing, he turned back. “Make it quick. I have to doctor an injured cow before I can get to work.”
“How can I reach you? In case of an emergency.”
For a moment he merely glared, but then he barked out ten digits. She whipped out her phone and quickly tapped them in, repeating them aloud. A second later his phone started to ring.
“Now you have my number, too.”
Nodding, he turned and walked into the mudroom, the phone in his hip pocket still ringing. After a moment she tapped the icon that ended the call. She heard him pulling on his outerwear and mere seconds later he left the house. She returned to her chair and sat down to think, then called her sister. Dawn didn’t have any more experience with men than Fawn did, but Grandmother was already at work, and Dawn was far more careful and suspicious of the opposite gender than Fawn. Surely between them they could safely discern Dixon’s likely reactions if Fawn did what she was contemplating.
Dawn answered groggily. “I’m the sister who sleeps in. Remember?”
“Your alarm goes off in five minutes.”
“Then this had better be a five-minute-long conversation.”
Chuckling, Fawn told her twin what Dixon had said about the Christmas tree. Dawn agreed that he, conveniently, hadn’t told Fawn that she couldn’t cut down a tree herself and likely wouldn’t be upset if she spared him the effort.
“Send me a pic when you get it decorated.”
Fawn promised, but privately she was more concerned about pleasing Dixon Lyons. She told herself that it was because he hadn’t committed to taking care of Jackie and Bella yet, but she feared that the reason was more personal, and that frightened her. Was she more her mother’s daughter than she knew? Even when he was being contrary, she liked Dixon. Was she ignoring the warning signs, as her mother must have done with her father? When Dawn’s alarm went off, Fawn felt a