The Rancher's Unexpected Baby. Jill Lynn
Читать онлайн книгу.
car’s engine, usually a gentle purr, roared. “Shh. Did you turn into a lion overnight? That’s enough noise out of you.” She kept her headlights off as she slowly eased down Gage’s drive. Emma had no desire to wake anyone up or notify Gage that she’d slept in front of his house for the last few hours.
When she got back to the cabin, Emma snuck inside quietly, attempting not to disturb her sister, Mackenzie, who slept in the other bedroom.
She climbed into bed, the warmth a comfort, but couldn’t shake the chill from her body. After about an hour of hoping sleep would come, she gave up and readied for the day. A hot shower and a cup of tea did wonders for bringing her back to normal temps. She dressed in a black T-shirt—Best Aunt Ever scrawled across it in white print—along with skinny jeans and a long, comfortable cardigan.
She was sitting at the small kitchen table, nursing a second cup of tea, eating toast and reading her morning devotions when Mackenzie came out of her room in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt sporting their high school mascot—a mustang. Even groggy and half-awake, Mackenzie was long and willowy and strong and feminine all at the same time.
Emma had gotten used to their sister roles long ago. She was of the plain and simple variety and liked reading, tea and binging on chick flicks. Mackenzie was far more adventurous, always needing to conquer the next thing. She could be found white-water rafting or taking bull riding lessons. Actually, she hadn’t tried that last thing. Yet.
“Hey, you’re up early.” Mackenzie shuffled to the coffeepot and gazed longingly at it as if sheer desire might make the necessary contents jump inside.
“Didn’t sleep great this morning. I’m about to head back over to Gage’s. See if he and Hudson survived the night.”
“That’s right.” Mackenzie removed the coffee from the freezer and filled the reusable filter with grounds, then added water from the pitcher in the fridge. The girl liked her coffee a certain way, so Emma never attempted to make it for her. “I’m sure they were fine. Gage will do great with him,” she added with a dismissive wave.
Her sister didn’t have the same concern over Gage and the baby that Emma did. But then, she hadn’t been the one to encourage Gage to keep Hudson in the first place when he’d wanted to find someone else right away.
He’d tried, though. Right now there weren’t any other options. So Emma really hadn’t pushed him into a decision he wouldn’t have come to on his own.
“Still, I should get over there. You know how hard taking care of a baby can be.”
Mackenzie got out a mug with the new Wilder Ranch logo that Cate had recently designed. None of the mugs in their cupboard matched, and Emma liked it that way. Each morning she picked out one that best fit her day. Her mood. Today hers was one she’d made in ceramics class back in high school. Just the right size but a little off-kilter.
Her sister covered a yawn. “Not really.”
True. Mackenzie didn’t involve herself much with the Kids’ Club that Emma ran. And when they’d been younger, Emma had babysat a ton while Mackenzie had given riding lessons to earn spending money.
The two of them were night-and-day different but managed to get along. For that, Emma was thankful.
She cleared her dishes and said goodbye to her sister, then hopped back into her car, which still held a bit of the warmth from when she’d driven it home early this morning.
When she arrived at Gage’s, the time on her dash read seven thirty. It was crazy early in the morning to arrive at someone’s house, but she doubted Gage would complain.
Emma grabbed her purse and her to-go mug of steeping tea. Three cups was more than her norm, but she needed the extra—albeit small—boost of caffeine it would offer.
She stood on the step of Gage’s sprawling ranch house and knocked lightly. It had been his uncle’s ranch until a few years ago. Kip Frasier. A quiet but sweet man who always kept candy in his pocket at church and would dole it out to kids. He’d never married or had children of his own. When he’d passed away, he’d left the ranch to Gage. People really liked to leave things to the man. Land. House. Baby.
Gage had lived here only a little over two years.
The door swung open. Gage’s hair was damp as if he’d recently showered, and he wore a plaid shirt unbuttoned over a white T-shirt with jeans and leather slippers.
Gage Frasier, you are one attractive man.
One who, unfortunately, didn’t see her as anything more than a neighbor or his friend’s little sister. Emma wasn’t even on his datable radar.
The only good part about Gage not being interested in her in that way—besides the fact that she’d never be able to give up on the dream of having children—was that she wouldn’t have to admit to him that she had something in common with his ex-wife.
Before Nicole had run off with James the Homewrecker, Emma had dated him.
The whole ordeal was embarrassing. Mortifying. She’d been so naive and foolish. Emma should have known immediately that everything James spouted was a lie—as if anyone would ever find her as irresistible as he had claimed she was—but she’d allowed herself to be swept away by his flattering words and gestures. He’d been as fake and slimy as the toy goo her niece Ruby liked to play with.
“Morning.” Gage’s voice had that scratchy, unused-as-of-yet quality.
“How’s Hudson? How’d the night go? Did either of you sleep?”
His mouth tugged up at the corners, and her girlish hopes and dreams gave a collective sigh at what would never be. “Come in, Emma.”
She did, the quiet click of the door sounding behind her. There was no sign of the baby anywhere...
She took off her coat, and Gage hung it in the front closet, storing her purse, too. She set her tea on the entry table as Gage motioned for her to follow him. They walked down the hall and into the guest bedroom. With beige walls and a simple olive green bedspread on the full-size bed, the room was masculine. If Hudson stayed, she’d offer to help redo it into something more fitting for a baby boy. Maybe with a vintage airplane theme in honor of his father, Zeke. A nice framed sketch or two, with a light blue color on the walls. Brown accents.
Getting ahead of yourself, girl. Rein it in.
Emma didn’t even know how the night had gone, and here she was, planning the future.
Hudson was asleep on his back in the portable crib, one chubby hand above his head in a fist like he was cheering in victory. As if sensing their presence, his eyelids fluttered, then opened.
“What a good boy you are! You slept in your own bed? Such a big boy.” Emma had him in her arms before he could consider crying.
“Actually, he slept with me in the recliner for most of the night.” Visions of Hudson snoozing on Gage’s chest made her own constrict.
Was there a more attractive picture than that?
Emma laid him on the bed and proceeded to change his diaper while he studied both her and Gage. Hudson arched his back when she tried to put his footie pajamas back on his feet, so she tickled his tummy, distracting him so that she could finish the task.
“Are you hungry?” Emma asked Hudson as she picked him back up.
“Ba.”
“Ba,” she repeated back to him. “That could mean yes. Or no. Or nothing.” Her amusement earned a drowsy smile from him in return. “Do you like scrambled eggs?” Those were soft. Or he might prefer a bottle or pureed baby food. “Let’s go figure out some breakfast.”
The three of them moved into the kitchen. “Here.” She handed the baby to Gage and retrieved the eggs from the fridge. She knew they’d be inside because she’d asked Mackenzie to pick up groceries yesterday morning to leave