Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy SEAL

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Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy SEAL Page 5

by Laura Marie Altom


  She backed away with a half smile.

  Had she felt it, too? The spark of attraction that had no business being there, but for him anyway, was as undeniable as the sky being blue.

  He set his plate and bowl on the counter a safe distance from where she stood at the sink.

  After inserting the rubber stop over the drain, she filled the sink with warm water, adding a squirt of dishwashing liquid. “Now that your goats are safe in their new home and you avoided a trip to the ER, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

  “I should head out to the garden. Judging by my brown squash, I think one of my irrigation hoses busted.”

  “Do you have any veggies to pick?”

  “There are always tomatoes, zucchini and green beans.”

  “My grandfather has a huge garden. Grandma cans enough produce to feed half their county.”

  “Nice. To make this place self-sustainable, canning is something I should learn. Wish you were going to be around long enough to teach me.”

  “Sorry. I would, but as soon as my car’s fixed...”

  “Yeah...” He frowned. “I get it.”

  The baby woke with a few whimpers.

  “Somebody missed her lunchtime,” Mary said. She dried her hands on a dish towel, then plucked Lark from her carrier. “Hungry?”

  While Mary patted her rump, the infant fussed all the more.

  “Hungry and a wet diaper. Never a good combo.” To Laredo she asked, “Where would be a good place for us to set up a temporary nursery?”

  Again, he viewed his house with a critical eye. Not a single room was nice enough or clean enough for Mary and her child.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s table the garden till it cools off outside. For now, let’s make you and the munchkin a proper nest.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “If you feel up to helping—after you finish feeding Lark—I think with enough sweat equity we might be able to salvage the back bedroom. I bought this place furnished and since the room was too girlie for my taste, I’ve been using it for storage, but I’ll haul boxes to the barn if you can handle washing sheets and blankets, dusting and the like.”

  “Deal. Let me get Lark back to her usually smiley self, then we’ll get started.”

  While carting his first load, Laredo couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt more energized or alive. Filled with direction and purpose. All of which should make him happy.

  But it didn’t.

  Because he had no business attaching his well-being to an admitted liar who was only biding her time till she escaped.

  Chapter 5

  Robin changed Lark on the pad from her diaper bag. After a quick hand wash, she tossed a fuzzy pink receiving blanket over her shoulder, then sat on the sofa and raised her blouse, unfastening her nursing bra so her cranky angel could latch on. “There you go.” She exhaled from the release of her milk’s painful pressure. “That’s better.”

  Her pulse revved when Laredo opened the screechy screen door, then stepped through. For an awkward moment, their gazes locked, but then he smiled. His forehead and cheeks glistened with sweat. His T-shirt clung to his hard chest, shoulders and biceps. His perfection made him seem not quite real. But then she’d once thought the same about her husband and look how that had turned out.

  She forced herself to return his friendly gesture. “I’ll help as soon as Lark’s done.”

  “No hurry. I’ve hardly made a dent.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get out of our deal.”

  “Did I say you were? And anyway, it’s not as if I can feed your baby.”

  Before she’d thought of a response, he’d turned down the hall toward the room she had yet to see. Soon enough, he emerged carrying three boxes that nearly blocked his vision. Augusta had mentioned him being partially blind. Robin wanted to ask him about it, but now didn’t seem like the right time.

  He nudged open the screen door and was gone as abruptly as he’d entered.

  It took six more trips before Lark had eaten her fill.

  Robin assembled the portable playpen Laredo had been thoughtful enough to grab from her car, along with a plethora of the other baby gear she’d packed for her escape. She’d never meant for her marriage to end the way it did, but then a lot of things in her life hadn’t gone as planned.

  On the bright side, without the storms, she wouldn’t have found her life’s greatest blessing in Lark.

  “There you go,” Robin said while placing her daughter in her playpen along with plenty of her favorite squeaky toys.

  Upon finding herself face-to-face with her bestie stuffed whale, her daughter cooed in delight.

  Robin plugged in the baby monitor’s base, setting it on a bookshelf. Tucking the other half in her back pocket, she finally got to see the space that would soon be her new room. She’d expected a lackluster area as run-down and sad as the rest of the place but couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Sure, the pink floral wallpaper was sun-faded and the white chenille curtains and wedding ring-patterned quilt needed a good washing, but hardwood floors showed promise beneath a thick layer of dust, as did the antique walnut vanity and dresser. The white, wrought iron bed featured ornate curves and an accidental shabby chic finish.

  The room’s best feature? Plenty of sun and a gently whirring ceiling fan.

  “What do you think?”

  Pulse pounding at Laredo’s sudden appearance, Robin held her hand over her heart. How long would it take for her fear to subside?

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I know it’s dusty enough to form an indoor sandstorm, but once we get it cleaned out do you think it will work?”

  “I think you’re being silly. It’s charming. And I feel guilty for you going to this much trouble for only a few days.”

  “It’s whatever. I needed to clean it at some point. You gave me a great excuse.”

  “Thank you. Truly. I would have been just as comfortable on the couch.”

  “I’m glad to help. Now that the boxes are cleared, what’s next?”

  “If you’ll show me where your laundry room is, let’s get the bed linens started. While they’re washing, we’ll take down the curtains to be cleaned, give the floors and furniture a good dusting, tackle the windows, and hopefully by then we’ll still be upright enough to put the sheets in the dryer, then fit them back onto the bed before collapsing.”

  “Just hearing that list exhausted me. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

  “I gave you an out by offering to crash on the sofa.”

  He scratched his head. Stared beyond dusty windowpanes before opening his mouth, then closing it, as if searching for words that wouldn’t come. “We should get started.”

  What was he thinking? Why had her anticipation for their shared project soured?

  * * *

  While filling a mop bucket, it occurred to Laredo how dangerously close he’d come to opening himself up to this woman who would soon be gone. When she’d reminded him of her offer to crash on his sofa, he’d almost admitted that he didn’t just want her to crash, but to be comfortable.

  To feel at home.

  But this wasn’t her home and never would be.

  She wasn’t Carrie and no matter how much he wished he could rewrite history and have another chance at starting his own family, that wouldn’t happen anytime soon—if ever—either.

  Every trip into town, women made no effort to hide the fact that they were available, but he’d never been interested. What about Mary drew him in? Was it her secret? The fact that she was in trouble and he used to thrive on fixing any given lousy situation?

  Lord, he’d missed being needed.

  With the bucket filled, he added a squirt of Murphy’s Oil Soap he’d unearthed from under the sink, t
hen grabbed a mop from the utility closet on his return to the back bedroom. The washer pleasantly chugged and he found Mary on a stepladder, singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” to her daughter.

  “...Down came the rain and washed the spider out!” Mary’s voice struck him as soft and feminine yet animated enough to hold the infant’s rapt interest. Lark stared in wide-eyed wonder at her mother’s dancing and jazz-hand routine from atop the ladder she used to remove dingy curtains. “Out came the sun and dried up—”

  “Let me help,” he said mid-verse. “Makes more sense for me to start mopping on that side of the room.”

  “Sure.” She smiled before stepping down.

  Her singing had annoyed him. The grinning baby annoyed him. The degree to which he’d been drawn to both annoyed him.

  He made quick work of removing the four additional sets of window coverings.

  “While you’re mopping,” she said, “I’ll rummage through your freezer for dinner ideas.”

  “I can eat a sandwich.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice meal?”

  Of course. But nice meals led to pleasant conversation, which would only make it that much harder to let her go. Make no mistake, she was a looker, but this wasn’t about attraction but the realization of just how lonely this place was. He’d never planned to live here alone. Carrie was supposed to have been part of the homesteading package. Now that she wasn’t, he found himself dreading the long nights.

  The time when his limited vision made him feel vulnerable—a state in which he’d never been and deeply resented.

  “Laredo? Dinner?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Did I do something wrong?” She lifted Lark’s carrier from the floor.

  Hell, yes. You’re here and Carrie isn’t. Which serves as a nasty reminder of how pissed I still am. But that didn’t give him the right to take out his anger on Mary. “No. I appreciate your help. Knock yourself out on any meal you’d like.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Laredo didn’t look at her because he couldn’t. His mood was too low. He’d started the project with a sense of anticipation and hope. He now realized the downside of prettying up a room for this woman and her child. No sooner than the job was completed, so would their time be with him.

  Done with the curtains, he cleared the floor and refocused his attention on the task at hand. He was only a quarter of the way finished when the water had turned dirty enough that he needed to change it.

  He slung the brown water off the back porch, then returned to the kitchen sink to refill it.

  Still feeling bad about how he’d snipped at Mary, when he found her at the counter, chopping carrots, he asked, “What did you unearth from the freezer?”

  “I found a chuck roast. It’s defrosting in the microwave. Since we have plenty of time for it to simmer and lots of root veggies, I thought it would make a good stew.”

  He nodded. “Love stew. Haven’t had it in a while. Need help?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Okay, then...” With the bucket refilled, he added soap and turned for the bedroom. He took ownership of the awkwardness between them. There’d been nothing overtly cross—more of a general bad vibe. Her posture had once again seemed defeated with her shoulders slumped and voice meek. The fact made him turn back. “In case I haven’t mentioned it before—I appreciate your help. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had company and I forget my manners. Sorry.”

  She beamed. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m sorry for Lark and I taking over your home. We’ll be gone soon, but if you’d rather we return to the motel, I can—”

  “No, no. That’s not what I meant.” Setting the bucket on the floor, he bowed his head. “Might sound corny, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m enjoying the company.”

  “Really?” As if shocked by his admission, her eyebrows rose, but only for an instant before she resumed chopping.

  “At first, I wasn’t sure, but it feels good to switch up my routine.”

  “I know what you mean. When I was with—well, with my ex—I was strictly a stay-at-home mom, but I used to be a teacher’s assistant. I always planned to go to college and become a real teacher, but life has a way of getting in the way of plans.” She set aside the completed carrots to cube already-peeled potatoes.

  “Don’t I know it,” he said with a harsh laugh.

  “I enjoyed my job, though. It was in a special education classroom, working with kids who really tugged at my heartstrings—not that they all don’t, but these children glowed when learning a new letter of the alphabet or completing physical therapy. The other three assistants and the teacher and students and I formed a sweet family. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed the job till I no longer had it.”

  “What made you quit?”

  “My pregnancy took a bad turn. My blood pressure spiked and I had to take early leave. Once Lark was born, my ex didn’t want me to go back, so I didn’t.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, but what happened?”

  “Nothing good.” She brought the knife down extra hard on the last potato.

  Would he ever learn the extent to which she’d been abused? Given they’d only be together a short while longer, probably not.

  “Guess I should get back to the bedroom floor,” he said.

  “I’ve still got onions to chop.”

  Despite the fact that they both had tasks to complete, they stood frozen, staring. While he was fighting confusion laced with an unidentifiable something else, his breath caught in his throat. What was it about this woman that made him want to hold her in his arms and never let go? She was a stranger, yet what if she stayed? What if they got to know each other more?

  He shook his head. Lunacy. “I’m gonna go finish that floor.”

  “Onions...”

  Nodding, he picked up the bucket. He started to leave the kitchen, but then turned back to her and smiled. “I’m excited to try your stew.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before he made an even bigger fool of himself, he hightailed it for the back bedroom. Whatever he felt for the woman not only wasn’t good, but downright dangerous for his new and improved simplified way of life. He didn’t need a fancy meal, but a can of pork and beans. He didn’t need a fancy house, but a roof over his head.

  In the safety of the dimly lit hall, he froze. Closed his eyes. Unexpected warmth and well-being spread through him like a sunbeam punching through clouds on a stormy day.

  No—he didn’t need any of what Mary offered. But deep down in long-buried places he’d damn sure rather forget, he sure did like her and her cooking and companionship for however briefly she’d transform his house into a home.

  * * *

  With Laredo out of the cramped kitchen, Robin could once again breathe. He was a large man—tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. But unlike her husband, Laredo didn’t frighten her. More like fascinated her. The way she’d felt as a child when staring into elaborate storefront windows during the bustling holiday season.

  “Is Mommy crazy?” she asked her gurgling baby.

  Lark stopped mauling a stuffed rabbit ear long enough to grin from her portable playpen.

  “Did you just say yes?” she teased, rinsing her hands before tickling her daughter’s ribs.

  Giggles ensued, flooding Robin with the sort of well-being she hadn’t felt since leaving her grandparents’ home. For this moment in time, encapsulated on this sweet little homestead, life was good. If only she could capture the moment—Lark’s infectious giggles, the lightness in Robin’s heart—storing it for later use during inevitable dark times.

  The dryer buzzed.

  “Time for Mommy to quit playing and get to work.”

  “Grrrgffft!”

  Robin couldn’t stop smiling while giving Lark’s chubby
tummy one more pat. “Is that your not-so-subtle version of telling me you agree?”

  Robin folded the still-warm sheets and pillowcases, breathing in the fresh scent. She transferred the quilt from the washer to the dryer, then started a fresh washer load with curtains, setting it on the gentle cycle.

  She was on her way to finish the stew when she heard Laredo’s cell ring. It hadn’t been her intention to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard not to listen when he was in the next room.

  “...You know how I feel about crowds.”

  Silence.

  “How would my story motivate anyone?”

  Another long pause.

  A deep sigh.

  “I’ll do it, but you owe me...Whatever. When it’s time to Rototill my garden, you’re the first guy I’m calling.” After more grumbling, Laredo ended the call.

  What was that about? Robin turned for the kitchen.

  “I know you’re out there.” Mop in hand, he appeared at the open bedroom door.

  “I didn’t mean to listen... But I was here doing laundry and...”

  “I get it. It’s a small house. No need to explain.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, who was that and why do you suddenly seem tense?”

  “Kyle.”

  “Oh.” Was it possible to feel the color drain from your cheeks? The less she heard about the sheriff, the better. “I-is there some kind of trouble?”

  “No.” His gaze narrowed. “Are you expecting any?”

  “Not at all. But you do seem upset.”

  “I am.” He slammed the heel of his palm against the nearest wall. “The festival always has a row of local merchants and artisans. The recruitment officer from Grand Junction usually sets up a booth, but his wife is in labor. Kyle asked me to fill in. I guess it’s already assembled, but they need someone to man the thing.”

  “You used to be a SEAL. I would think guys considering serving would get a kick out of talking to you.”

  He shrugged.

  “Hope this isn’t too personal, but Augusta told me about your vision.”

  Hands on his hips, he glanced up, then down. “She has a big mouth.”

 

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