The Cowboy is a Daddy

by Mindy Neff

  “Where you headin’ off to in the middle of the night?” Moe asked, causing Brice to nearly jump out of his skin. He hadn’t realized the old cowboy was sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Shouldn’t you be turning in, Bertelli?”

  “Durn straight I should be. With all the commotion, I’m a bit high strung. Then you come in here yammerin’ to the dog like he knows what you’re sayin’.”

  “He does.”

  “Humph. Where you going?”

  “To get Madison’s things out of her car.” He hadn’t felt the need to account for his comings and goings in a long time. The events of the night must have made him mellow.

  “Didn’t see no car in the drive.”

  “It broke down out on the highway.”

  “So how’d she get here?”

  “Walked.”

  “Walked?” Moe nearly upset his coffee cup when he slapped a palm against the table. “While havin’ a baby?”

  “The baby waited until she got in the front hall. There’s a mess, by the way. Careful if you walk that way.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  “No. You go on to bed. I’ll be up for a while yet.”

  Moe gave him a stubborn look. Brice knew that look. The man would get the mop the minute Brice was out of sight. He started to go take care of the matter himself, but he figured he had better see what kind of baby supplies were in Madison’s car first. Besides, Moe got real ornery when Brice made any attempt to go easy on him. Moe Bertelli had more pride than was good for him.

  “Get,” Moe ordered. “I’ll keep an ear peeled for the mama and little one while you’re gone.”

  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to budge the old cowboy once his mind was made up, Brice nodded and snapped his fingers for Jax, who happily followed him outside and scrambled into the cab of the truck.

  The cold air stung his neck, and he hunched his shoulders beneath his sheepskin-lined jacket, waiting for the Chevy’s heater to kick in.

  The headlights barely made a dent in the dense fog. The smell of animals and manure permeated the air, made stronger by the veil of thick fog. He negotiated the long drive by rote, intimately familiar with each pothole and rut, relying on the odometer to let him know when he was nearing the highway.

  Madison had said the car was about a mile away. Did that include the quarter-mile driveway?

  No, it didn’t.

  The odometer read a tenth short of two miles when he spotted the dark-colored Nissan sitting like a sad waif just off the road, its right side hugging the split-rail fence as though seeking warmth.

  Once again he thought of Madison’s strength and determination.

  And her passionate words to her baby daughter.

  Opening the purse in search of car keys—he figured a city girl would probably have locked the car—his hand paused as it landed on her wallet.

  He battled with himself for several minutes. Normally he didn’t like to pry. Let folks be what they would be.

  But curiosity got the better of him. Besides, the woman was in his bed. He ought to at least know her vital statistics.

  Flipping open the leather clutch, he scanned the driver’s license. Five foot three, blue eyes, blond hair, wears glasses, born February 4th . . . she’d be twenty-nine next month.

  He remembered her sad account of learning not to expect much for birthdays. Hell, what would that be like? Brice had grown up without a mother, but he’d had his father and Moe to dote on him. He’d had roots, the land. And not once had anyone forgotten his or his brother, Kyle’s, birthday.

  He’d have to make sure no one forgot Madison Carlyle’s this year.

  “Stay here, boy,” he said to Jax, then got out to unload Madison’s car. She’d said she had all she’d need for herself and the baby.

  It made his insides clench to think a person’s life could fit into the back seat and trunk of a compact. And what was there was pitifully sparse in his opinion. Maybe the rest of her belongings were in storage?

  The absolute essentials were there, including an infant carrier that doubled as a car seat. But what about a baby bed? he wondered, feeling idiotic as he scanned the cramped interior for any large items he might have overlooked.

  Every newborn baby needed a crib, didn’t she? And flying things—a mobile, that’s what they were—twirling happily. And toys.

  He shook his head and retrieved a fuzzy white stuffed lamb, a kit with pacifiers and thermometers and a couple of bottles....

  Only a couple. That meant...ah man, he’d forgotten that new mothers nursed babies.

  He put that thought out of his head as he transferred suitcases and bags into the bed of the truck. It only took him three trips.

  This wasn’t acceptable.

  As soon as he got back to the ranch, he’d get out the JCPenney catalogue. Via overnight UPS, they could have a nursery set up by the third day of the new year.

  Even if it was only for a little while, baby Abbe deserved a decent bed to sleep in.

  After doing little more than lying around the past two days since Abbe’s birth, Madison was determined to get up and explore the house, to attempt a few duties in order to pay Brice back for his help and hospitality.

  Because she wasn’t here to accept hospitality.

  She was here to work. Surely she could manage a little cooking, maybe even take a look at the ranch accounts.

  Abbe made snuffling noises, and Maddie moved to the dresser drawer Brice had rigged up as a temporary bassinet. She’d thought she would get settled, work hard and make herself indispensable before she broached the subject of needing to purchase nursery furniture.

  Well, baby Abbe had messed up her timetable a bit. She smiled as she lifted the sweet infant into her arms and nuzzled an incredibly soft cheek. Abbe’s mouth opened like a baby bird’s, seeking nourishment.

  “Okay, okay. Let’s get you changed.” Her hands shook as she wrestled with the cloth diaper and pins. She’d decided against disposables—not only for financial reasons, but because she hadn’t figured there would be a store close enough for convenience. “I’ll get faster at this, Abbe. Just bear with me.”

  Finished with the task, perspiring from both nerves and the effort, she sat on the edge of the mattress, opened her robe, then winced as Abbe latched on to her nipple.

  It felt like a thousand white-hot needles were piercing her breasts. Surely this part would get easier with time. As Abbe sucked, tears stung Maddie’s eyes.

  Lord, she was exhausted, and she hadn’t done a blessed thing for two days. Cute as she was, Abbe didn’t sleep more than twenty minutes at a stretch. And Madison felt guilty that nursing wasn’t the joy she’d expected it to be.

  But that wasn’t the baby’s fault.

  There were a lot of things that weren’t as she’d expected.

  Brice DeWitt, for one.

  He was so strikingly...male. Surely it was the flood of extra childbirth hormones that caused her to catch her breath every time he walked into the room.

  She’d appropriated his bedroom, and she felt bad about that. She knew he left in the mornings by five and spent long hours on the land. Then he checked on her, and even showed up several times during the night when Abbe cried. Neither one of them were getting any sleep.

  Once she had the baby changed, again, and resting back in the makeshift bed, she showered and pulled on a pair of sweats. She hadn’t gained that much weight with the pregnancy and had expected to be back in her clothes fairly soon.

  Another underestimation on her part—in a long and growing list.

  How in the world had her life taken such a devastating turn? She’d had it all planned out. That’s what she did—planned, made lists, left little or nothing to fate. That way there was less chance of being let down, less chance of surprises blindsiding her.

  Well, she’d been blindsided—big-time. Everything had changed. She’d given up her rented house with its picket fences and happy flowers—the dream cottage she’d intended to b
uy. She’d chosen it because it was in a good neighborhood, with good schools and a great little yard for her child to play in—a child that had been planned for, whom she’d fallen in love with the moment the test had come back positive, the joyous moment when she’d realized that the anonymous sperm had indeed mated with her egg.

  Feeling as though she were living her own carefully written fairy tale, she’d turned the third bedroom of her house into an office and had run her CPA business out of it. She’d worked hard to build up clientele and a savings account, had felt so smug at her success—that she’d be able to be a stay-at-home mom and provide a good living.

  But all that had turned to dust overnight. The Covingtons had seen to it.

  She wasn’t even sure if they had legal rights, but she’d been too scared to wait around and find out. She’d packed up and left before court papers could be served.

  She couldn’t take the chance that the Covingtons were bluffing.

  But now she had to make a living. Her savings account was fairly healthy, but it would only last so long. She didn’t want to have to go out and find a job that would require leaving her baby with a sitter—that’s why she’d designed a home business in the first place.

  And Brice’s ad, like a gift from heaven, had seemed like the perfect solution. So she’d left the computers behind, put the furniture in storage, given up her dream house...and prayed that Wyoming would be the safe haven she and her child needed.

  But it was obvious that Brice DeWitt wasn’t keen on her staying for long, didn’t think she had what it took to survive on his ranch.

  Well, she’d just have to prove him wrong. She might be little, but she was tenacious; she had more determination than most people.

  She’d learned that the hard way.

  Picking up the baby, drawer and all, she made her way to the kitchen. The coffee in the pot was cold, and a quick search of her surroundings didn’t produce a microwave.

  Goodness, how did anyone survive without the essential appliances?

  She rummaged through cabinets, trying to familiarize herself with the room she was supposed to spend time in now. What in the world had she been thinking? That there’d be frozen hungry-man dinners in the freezer, and pantries stocked with boxes of breakfast cereal? Evidently the people on this ranch didn’t believe in quick-and-easy conveniences. And though it had been dark when she’d driven in the other night, she knew for certain that there wasn’t a McDonald’s or Taco Bell within fifty miles.

  She popped a piece of bread in the toaster and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, absently drumming her fingers against the porcelain sink as she gazed out the window.

  The sky was the color of stone, blanketed by billowing clouds that promised snow. Frigid air blew through the slightly open window, making her shiver. She reached up to close it, her hand stilling when she saw a lone rider galloping across the barren field toward one of the outbuildings.

  Brice.

  She knew it was him from his height in the saddle alone. Her stomach gave a funny tickle. She’d seen cowboys before, but mostly the spiffed-up kind at the local honky-tonks in Dallas.

  This man was a working cowboy. He sat atop a gorgeous roan, moving with the animal in perfect harmony, as though he’d spent most of his life in the saddle. Which he probably had.

  Dismounting, he passed the horse’s reins to another man who came out of the barn, then gazed off toward the main highway.

  Madison looked in that direction, too, astonished to see a brown delivery truck spewing gravel beneath its tires as it barreled down the lane.

  UPS delivers to the middle of nowhere? The sight was so incongruous, so unexpected, that silent alarms went off in her brain, an intuitive warning that had dogged her every waking moment for the past few weeks.

  Her heart lurched and she ducked away from the window, automatically reaching for the baby. Surely they hadn’t found her. She’d been so careful.

  Gently, trying not to wake her, she held Abbe close, feeling like a protective mama bear whose cub was threatened.

  Leaving the dresser drawer bassinet sitting on the oak kitchen table, she stood in indecision for several minutes, then stole into the living room, heading for the bedroom.

  Halfway through the room, she had second thoughts. She shouldn’t have left the makeshift baby bed behind. Darn it, she wasn’t used to second-guessing her every move. Indecision clawed at her.

  Then the front door swung open with a crash and it took every ounce of strength she possessed not to squeak in alarm. Cold air rushed in, and Maddie felt frozen to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights.

  The first thing she saw was Brice DeWitt’s butt.

  He’d discarded his coat somewhere between the barn and the house. A pair of leather chaps were tied just under the curve of his rear, very nicely displaying that particular part of his anatomy. He backed into the room, holding one end of a large box. The other end was supported by a deliveryman in a recognizable brown uniform.

  Her initial nerves over unexpected company ebbed a bit.

  The delivery guy grinned, set down his end of the carton and gave an exuberant wave. “Hi, there! Looks like Christmas comes late out here. Lucky you, I’ve got five more boxes.”

  Brice whipped around, not expecting Madison to be up, feeling embarrassed by his impulsive purchases. He’d definitely gone overboard with the catalogue. “What are you doing out of bed?”

  She was wearing her round spectacles today. A slim blond brow arched above the wire frame. “You’re out working. I figured it was time for me to get with the program, too.”

  He started toward her, then stopped. He smelled like a horse. And she looked entirely too fragile to touch, as though she’d suffered a fright but was valiantly trying to hide it.

  “Is everything okay? The baby?”

  “We’re fine.” She waved a hand toward the huge carton, and the others that were now stacked beside it. “What’s all this?”

  He turned and signed the delivery ticket.

  “Enjoy!” the UPS guy said, then jogged back to his truck.

  Brice shut the door and pulled out the order form. Had he actually ordered all this stuff? Hell, the baby wasn’t even his kid. For all he knew some guy would show up at the front door and claim Madison and Abbe.

  According to the invoice the order had been split. Good God. Madison was going to think he was crazy. This wasn’t even the entire shipment.

  “Come see for yourself,” he finally answered, shucking his heavy gloves and ripping open the biggest box.

  Madison took a tentative step forward, then another, and stared over his shoulder, speechless.

  Plastic foam peanuts littered the floor as Brice tugged parts of a maple Jenny Lind crib from the box. Next came a mattress with lambs and bears frolicking across the vinyl surface.

  A lump formed in her throat as she touched the smooth wood. Dear Lord, she was going to cry. What was with these leaky eyes of hers?

  “Well? What do you think? I’ll have to put it together. But if you don’t like it, we can exchange it for something different.”

  She had trouble finding her voice, getting words past the emotion in her throat. “I love it,” she said softly. “It’s exactly what I would have picked. But...why?”

  “Why what?” He looked uncomfortable as he opened another box.

  “Why did you do this?”

  He shrugged. “The kid needed a decent bed. It’s not right that she’s sleeping in a drawer.” He extracted a set of bumper pads that sported the same lamb and teddy bear motif as the mattress.

  “Brice...I don’t know what to say. You shouldn’t have.”

  He cut through the packing tape of the remaining boxes without looking at their contents, then stood, towering over her.

  “There are five bedrooms in this house, two of them sitting empty. Might as well turn one into a nursery for a while.”

  For a while. Well, at least it was a step in the right direction. A least he hadn’t
started in on her about leaving again, about her not being right for the job. The fact that he’d purchased baby furniture was a good thing, it bought her time. Time to prove that she could handle the ranch chores.

  Even if he didn’t own a microwave.

  Now, more than ever, she was determined to pull her weight, to pay him back. She reached out and placed a hand on his rock-hard forearm. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged again, his gaze lingering on where her hand rested against his arm. This man surprised her. He’d delivered her baby, slipped into her bedroom in the middle of the night when Abbe cried, bought her furniture. Yet he kept his emotions hidden behind a mask, making her ache to know what he was really thinking, feeling.

  One minute he was telling her she wasn’t right for the job, and the next he was buying out the on-line stores as though expecting forever.

  “How did you manage all this?” she asked.

  His navy gaze met hers. “I think I’m on every catalogue mailing list in the country. Comes in handy when I need more than what the feed store in town carries.”

  “Well, thank you for thinking of it. I’ll pay you back, of course. Just let me know the invoice amount.” She mentally pictured the balances in her accounts, and hoped he was a bargain shopper.

  He scowled and tugged at the brim of his black hat, a gesture that seemed more habitual than conscious. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  “Why? I can’t let you be buying things for us.”

  He took a step closer, deliberately, it seemed, to point out that he was much bigger than her. “Think you can stop me?”

  She bit her bottom lip, but couldn’t stop the smile that formed or the bubble of laughter that worked its way to her throat. If this tall, tough, dreamy-looking cowboy thought he could intimidate her with his sheer size, he had a lot to learn. She’d faced down scarier adversaries in her life. The fierce scowl was a nice touch, though.

  The barest hint of amusement flared in his eyes when she stood her ground. “Smart,” he murmured. “As well as beautiful.”