The Cowboy's Secret Baby. Karen Smith Rose
Читать онлайн книгу.
solid maple,” Ty explained. “Eli made it for me when I was a baby. Apparently my mother would bring me to visit him a few weeks in the summer.”
“Eli used to do woodworking?”
“A long time back. Arthritis in his hands has kept him from it for the past decade.”
Crossing to the high chair, she ran her hands over the smooth, glossy wood. It had a beautiful grain. Even the tray was wood. It smelled of lemon polish.
“It’s beautiful, Ty. It seems to be a perfect size for Jordan.”
They were standing very close, Ty’s bare arm brushing hers. He said, “I don’t have much ready for my son yet, but I will.”
“Babies have a lot of paraphernalia, but they really don’t need much,” she murmured.
“You’ll have to tell me what kind of food to buy, what kind of diapers, that kind of thing,” Ty said in a low voice, not taking his eyes from her face.
She couldn’t seem to look away from him, either. “Why do you think you’ll need all that?” she asked, her heart beating very fast. Just what did he have in mind?
“When I bring Jordan here to stay—”
She cut him off. “I can’t be away from him for long periods of time. As it is, he’s in day care all day. If you just visit him at my apartment, won’t that be enough?” After all, this was Ty Conroy. When he wasn’t rodeoing, he met his friends for a beer in a sports bar like the Black Boot.
“Look, Marissa, my life has changed drastically. Now Jordan’s going to be a part of it. We’ll work this out. But he’s going to spend time here with me and Uncle Eli. The Cozy C could be his someday.”
She knew she made a little sound of surprise.
“We have to think ahead now,” he said. “Maybe you’ve just been living day to day, but that’s going to change.”
Confusion stole through Marissa’s heart. She liked to think of herself as flexible. But when it came to Jordan, she didn’t know how flexible she could be.
Ty pushed a few curls away from her cheek. “I’m going to learn how to become a father, Marissa, so I’d like you to try and get used to that idea.”
His callused fingers on her cheek made her insides quiver and her knees even felt a little weak. Or maybe that was because everything was happening so fast. Maybe because seeing Ty in a father’s role wasn’t something she ever expected to do.
Ty stepped back and she felt relieved. When he was that close she had trouble fighting her attraction to him. When he was that close anything could happen.
He hefted up the high chair and nodded to the doorway. She crossed to it, eager to go downstairs and get dinner over with, eager to go back to her apartment with Jordan.
Ty put a shirt on before he came to the table, but all through dinner she couldn’t keep her gaze from flitting to him. Just as she felt his eyes on her. She kept herself busy feeding Jordan. She’d brought along food for him, but also fed him bits of broccoli and the boiled potatoes with butter Eli had made.
After he’d eaten, she started on the barbecued ribs. In between bites, she asked, “What did you use on these? They’re delicious.”
“I make my own rub,” Eli said. “And I do them slow in the oven, basting them often. Ty’s talking about getting one of those smokers, thinks guests might like it. But I like the way I do it.”
“I make my own barbecue sauce,” Marissa said. “Is your rub a secret?”
Eli chuckled. “Not so secret. I can jot it down for you.”
When Ty put dessert on the table, Marissa remarked to Eli, “You’re serving a feast.”
“I can’t take credit for the cherry crumble,” Eli told her. “A neighbor made that for us.”
Jordan had smeared his supper from one end of his mouth to the other and got some on his cheek and his nose. She reached out to clean him, but Ty stopped her. “Do you think he’ll let me wipe him?”
“You can try. He doesn’t even let me wipe his face sometimes.”
Ty went to the counter and wet a paper towel. Moments later he was back, making a game of it with Jordan, wiping one cheek and tickling his tummy. Then he wiped the other, making a noise like an airplane while he did it.
Eli leaned close to Marissa. “Sometimes dads have the magic touch.”
She felt as if Ty and Eli were tag-teaming her, trying to convince her of something. She wasn’t sure what that was. That Ty would be a good father? Only time would tell that. Only time and Ty’s commitment to his son.
As she looked at him, she still saw the rakish cowboy who flitted from town to town as if he’d never belonged anywhere.
Could Ty Conroy make a commitment?
That was the question she had to answer before she could let him fully into her son’s life.
After supper, Ty and his uncle stepped into the living room for a few minutes while Marissa washed Jordan’s hands. Their voices were low and their discussion made her nervous. Were they talking about her and Jordan?
Neither seemed ruffled when they returned to the kitchen. Eli was even smiling.
Ty glanced at her, then ruffled his son’s hair. “Let me take you on a tour of the ranch.”
Supper had gone well, Marissa decided. She didn’t know if she wanted to push her time here further. Yet watching Ty act like a father to his son was fulfilling to witness—his gentleness, his concern, his caring.
She motioned to the dirty dishes. “We should clean up.”
Without hesitation, Eli stepped into the argument. “No need. Since Ty got me that fancy new dishwasher, everything practically cleans itself. Go on. When you get back, you can let me know if anybody would come here for a vacation.”
Ty was already gathering Jordan from the high chair.
“I have his collapsible stroller in the car,” Marissa said. She took it everywhere. Forethought was a mom’s friend.
“We’ll be fine,” Ty assured her, jiggling Jordan a little and making him giggle.
As they walked out onto the porch, he said, “He’s a happy baby, isn’t he?”
“Most of the time. Especially when he gets his way.”
Ty chuckled and descended the steps. As they crossed to the barn, Marissa asked, “How’s your knee?”
He shot her a glance. “I won’t trip and fall with Jordan,” he remarked with a bit of an edge.
“That wasn’t my concern,” she said softly.
He looked away toward the hills in the distance as if he was imagining riding there. “Sometimes I work it too hard,” he admitted. “And that puts me back to using a cane. But there’s so much I want to get finished by the end of the year.”
Seeing that talking about his knee made him uncomfortable, she motioned toward the barn. “It looks good. It’s a wonder what a new coat of paint will do.”
“I wanted to have it sided or something more permanent, but Unc wouldn’t hear of that.”
“Did you say you won the biggest purse of your life the night of the accident?”
“Accident is a nice way of putting it,” he said wryly. “But yes, I did, and most of the other winnings I’d socked away in the bank. After all, I didn’t have many expenses on the road, or much I wanted to