Rescued by the Colton Cowboy

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Nothing for you to be sorry about.”

  She blessed him with another bright smile. “Can I help you unpack the car?”

  “You can stand at the door and keep out of sight. I stopped and picked up Chinese food for dinner. I’ll hand you the food and I would really appreciate it if you would fix me a plate. I haven’t eaten anything since I left this morning and I’m starved. I’ll eat once I get everything else out the truck, but you feel free to dig in whenever you want.”

  Soledad rolled her eyes. “That’s it?”

  “I’ve got the rest covered. Besides, most of my men will be punching out for the day. They might pass the house on their way out and I don’t want anyone to see you.”

  Palmer gave her a grin of sorts and turned, moving back out the front door. As she watched him walk away, Soledad felt her eyes mist, tears pressing against her lashes. She wiped the back of her hand across her face as her own smile pulled full and wide, something like joy brimming at the edge of her spirit.

  * * *

  Hours later, Palmer stood in the doorway of his guest room. After a quick meal and casual conversation about his shopping experiences, it had taken the two of them very little time to transform the space. He was still in awe that a room that was once part library, part bedroom now looked like a full-scale nursery.

  The bright white crib was set up in the corner where a bookcase had once stood. The freshly washed animal-print linens the salesclerk had suggested decorated the tiny mattress. The addition of the changing table and assortment of stuffed animals pulled it all together. Even he was impressed—and that was sometimes hard to accomplish. Soledad had packed away the diapers and baby clothes, and little Lyra had been officially moved in. Under different circumstances, Palmer would have found that amusing. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  He stood watching as Soledad set the baby down for the night. She’d had sweet potatoes for her evening meal, preferring them over the peas he had tried to feed her. Now she suckled on a bottle of warm milk, her eyes closing and opening as she settled in for a night’s sleep. He watched Soledad, who watched Lyra, in awe of them both. Jack nudging his leg pulled him from the reverie.

  “I have to take the dog out and check on the animals,” he said softly. “It’s time for Pharaoh to get his evening meds.”

  Soledad shifted to give him a look. She nodded and smiled, then turned her attention back to the baby.

  She was a natural when it came to mothering the little girl and Palmer found himself wondering why she didn’t already have any children of her own. He hadn’t thought to ask her when the two had talked about his own disinterest in fatherhood, but, clearly, he thought, Soledad would make a magnificent mother—and a great wife...to some other guy.

  * * *

  Out in the barn, Pharaoh was resting comfortably, faring far better than he had days earlier. Palmer ensured the horse had fresh bedding, a dose of the medicine the veterinarian had left and a bucket of oats to feed on. He sat with the colt for a good while before tossing a wool blanket on his broad back. The Arabian nuzzled his side and Palmer took that as a good sign the horse was getting better.

  Making his regular rounds, Palmer stopped to inspect the fence that had been repaired. He also rode over to the south pasture to check on the cattle. His herd was sizable and seemed to be milling around contentedly together. A few calf stragglers that had strayed from the pack cried out, their mothers mooing in response to guide them. Palmer whistled for Jack, and within a few short minutes, the Bernese was by his side.

  “Gather, Jack,” Palmer commanded, and the dog shot across the fields to maneuver the dawdlers back into place.

  After one last check of the gates, Palmer felt comfortable that all was well and headed back to the house. Usually, the ranch was his happy place, his regular routines giving him a sense of accomplishment and joy. He was proud of what he’d built, and everything about the land and his animals satisfied his sensibilities. This particular night, though, all he wanted was to get back to his home and the woman who was suddenly an anomaly in his life. And nothing about that made an ounce of sense to him. Nothing truly had made sense to him since the night Soledad had turned up in his barn.

  * * *

  Soledad stood with her hands on her hips, assessing her situation. Lyra had gone to sleep easily, seeming to like her new surroundings. Palmer had outdone himself, buying out half the department store to make them comfortable. She had no idea how she’d ever be able to repay his generosity. He’d made it clear that he didn’t expect to be reimbursed, but she knew she could never not repay his benevolence.

  There were still dozens of dry goods in shopping bags for her to sort through, but they would have to wait. She needed to start prepping the cake she’d been contracted to bake, though she was finding it difficult to focus on anything but her situation and Palmer Colton. She kicked herself for being so scattered thinking about a man who was clearly gun-shy. Not that she was interested in a relationship with him—or anyone. Because she wasn’t. Or, at least, that was the story she told anyone who asked. She didn’t have time to build a relationship with anyone while she built her business. The bakery was currently thriving and usually that would require every ounce of her attention. Any man would have to take a back seat. Now more than ever, though, since she had to reprioritize her life-goals list to place Lyra at the very top.

  Soledad sighed softly. She couldn’t help but think that maybe she’d made a mistake. If only she had listened to Palmer that first night and gone straight to the police. What if she hadn’t overreacted, her concerns more responsive than reactionary. Maybe she’d gotten things overwhelmingly wrong... If only she had chosen differently, she and Lyra could be home, settling into their new routines with each other. She had a lengthy list of if-onlys, what-ifs and maybes, and alternate scenarios with Gavin dropping off the face of the earth. Then she remembered something her father had often said. If a toad had wings, it wouldn’t bump its ass when it hopped. There was no room for what-ifs. She had to deal with the here and now and the choices she had made.

  She had always believed that everything happened for a reason. Sometimes that reason was easy to see and sometimes fate put a man like Palmer Colton in the way, not caring if it made sense or not. She was overthinking everything and that had never served her well in the past. She needed to shake off all that was clouding her head and to stop thinking about Palmer Colton.

  * * *

  Palmer’s kitchen was a dream come true. There was enough space for multiple people to cook and prep food comfortably. The Sub-Zero refrigerator and freezer and the Viking gas range were top-of-the-line. Double convection ovens as well as dual sinks would make her tasks easy and Soledad was grateful for it. She had just laid out her ingredients when Palmer and Jack came bounding through the door.

  “Hey there,” she said, greeting him warmly.

  “Hey. You’re getting started.”

  “I have a lot to do before tomorrow.”

  Palmer moved to the center island, leaning against the counter. He scanned the foodstuffs Soledad had begun to prep. “What are we making?” he questioned.

  She gave him a bright smile. “We?”

  He shrugged. “Usually, I’d be on the sofa watching CNN until I fell asleep. I thought I might give you a hand instead. Unless I’d be in the way?”

  Soledad shook her head. “Not at all. I’d appreciate the company. I spend a lot of time in the bakery after hours working alone, so this will be a nice change.”

  “So, what are we making?”

  “My famous carrot cake with a buttercream filling. I don’t do the usual cream-cheese frosting. It’ll have three tiers and be decorated with a stained-glass design.”

  “Stained glass?”

  “It’s one of my specialties and I can knock it out fairly quickly.”

  “Then I’ll just
sit here and watch you work. If you need help, I’ll be close by to give you instruction.” He smirked, looking slightly dopey.

  Soledad laughed. “The man has jokes.”

  Palmer laughed with her. “So, walk me through what you’re doing,” he said, seeming genuinely interested.

  “The first thing is to actually bake the carrot cake.”

  “Easy peasy!”

  Soledad’s face lit up, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “My mother used to say it all the time. Whenever I thought anything felt like a challenge, she would say it was easy peasy.”

  “So did mine,” Soledad responded. “I haven’t heard that in forever.” Her smile was wistful as she thought back to the matriarch of her family. Her mother had died five years ago, and the loss still stung. It had left a massive hole in her heart that nothing would ever be able to fill. She and Dominique had moved forward, finding a new normal that revolved around their father and helping him through the devastation. She missed her mother.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Palmer said as if reading her mind. “I remember your father speaking very fondly of her.”

  “She was the love of his life. They were so happy together. I had hoped to have that for myself someday.”

  Palmer’s brow creased. “You don’t anymore?”

  “I’m now a single mother. I’m not sure many men are interested in a ready-made family.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I would be. The men I’ve met recently are more interested in their own good time.”

  “That sounds like a story.”

  “One day maybe,” she said.

  The conversation paused as Soledad combined grated carrots and brown sugar together in a bowl. She added raisins and then set the mixture aside. In a second bowl, she beat the eggs until they were lemony yellow. Then she whisked in vanilla, oil and white sugar.

  “Did you add enough vanilla?” Palmer questioned lightly. “I’d probably add a bit more.”

  Soledad giggled. “I’m pretty sure I have enough.”

  “It’s your cake, but if it doesn’t taste good, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased. “I’m a professional, so I know these things.”

  She rolled her eyes skyward, shaking her head slightly as he asked, “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Since forever. I have always loved to bake. Cookies, cakes, pastries. I would make doughnuts every weekend in high school, and Dominique and I would eat until we were sick. In college, I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. It was Annie who convinced me to open the bakery. It was the best decision I’ve ever made. I leave work every day happy and I’m excited to go in the next day.” There was a moment of hesitation as Soledad thought about her friend. She missed Annie!

  Palmer gave her that moment before responding, understanding the pang of loss she was feeling. He nodded, then moved the conversation forward. “That’s how I feel about the ranch. I love everything about this cowboy lifestyle.”

  “Did you always know you wanted to be a rancher?”

  “I was hooked the first time my father put me on a horse and taught me to ride. I was eight, maybe nine, at the time.”

  Soledad smiled, amused that they had both discovered their passions at young ages and had both seen their dreams to fruition.

  They paused again as Soledad added crushed pineapple to the egg mixture. She reached for a third bowl and added flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. She combined the wet and dry mixtures, then threw in the carrot combination. Her batter was complete with the addition of chopped walnuts.

  “That came together fast,” Palmer commented as she split the batter between three cake pans she had earlier greased and dusted with flour.

  “That’s what happens when you know what you’re doing. But you know that, being professional and all.” She slid the cake pans into the hot oven and set the timer.

  Palmer laughed, amused by the hint of snark in her voice. “I, for one, am glad you perfected that doughnut recipe. I admit I’m a fan. I regularly stop at the bakery to get a dozen of your square doughnuts with your signature honey glaze. And the ones with the raspberry filling are to die for.”

  “The raspberry ones are my personal favorite. The filling is actually my mother’s recipe.” She grinned, excited to discover that he liked her pastries.

  “I’ve also enjoyed the pecan pie and that twelve-layer chocolate cake with the caramel and nuts. And the cookies! All the cookies are to die for, but the pecan brittle with chocolate glaze are my all-time favorites. I get very excited when you have those in rotation.”

  Soledad giggled. “How often do you come by the bakery?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Truth?”

  “Why would you lie?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t, but I feel kind of awkward telling you this now.” He chuckled softly.

  Her forehead furrowed, confusion washing through her. “So, what is it? Have you never been to the bakery and you’ve been sending someone else to pick up your sweets?”

  He shook his head, then answered. “I stop by a few times a week. I keep hoping I’ll see you there, but you’re never out front. Then, of course, I can’t leave without buying something, and I try to buy everything because it’s all so good.” His face was suddenly flushed, color firing his cheeks a deep shade of red.

  Soledad felt herself blush, as well, flattered by the compliment. There was an awkward pause that billowed between them. She dropped her gaze to the confectioners’ sugar she’d poured into a bowl and took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you talk to me at the engagement party the other week?” she asked, still not lifting her eyes to meet his. She prayed the question sounded nonchalant and that curiosity was the only thing he read into it.

  Before Palmer could answer, a shrill cry echoed out of the new baby monitor on the counter. Lyra was not happy and wanted them to know it.

  Soledad’s eyes widened. “Do you mind checking on her?” she asked, finally throwing him a look. She had begun to prep the fondant for her cake, and her hands were full as she kneaded the sugar paste against her palms.

  “No problem.” Palmer slid off his wooden stool and headed down the hall toward the guest room.

  As he left, she mumbled under her breath, “Saved by the baby!”

  Watching Palmer walk away, Soledad suddenly had new appreciation for the handsome rancher. She realized his rough-and-tough exterior was actually a facade for his soft interior. He was shy and far more introverted than she had realized. She appreciated his effort to come out of his shell to let her in to know him. She imagined that he didn’t often have women in his space, ruling his kitchen and practically taking over his home. Had the roles been reversed, she couldn’t say with any surety that she would be as accommodating or as pleasant about it.

  She moved to the ovens to check on her cakes. It was clear that Palmer didn’t use his kitchen often, despite his skills with a scrambled egg. His appliances still had their installation labels, and she didn’t think he had ever used his picture-perfect double ovens.

  His voice suddenly cooed through the baby monitor and Soledad’s smile lifted sweetly as she eavesdropped on his conversation with Lyra.

  * * *

  “Hey, you,” Palmer said, his tone soft and fluffy like cotton candy. “What are you crying for?” He leaned over the crib, untangling the blanket from around Lyra’s chubby legs. He reached to pick the baby up into his arms, rocking her gently until her tears eased, leaving her with the hiccups. She pulled a tight fist into her mouth, chewing on her fingers. Jack sat staring up at him, his tail wagging from side to side. The dog barked.

  “Easy, boy. I won’t drop her. I promise.”

  Jack barked at him a second time.

  Palmer shook his head. He carried Lyra to
the changing table and laid her on the platform. She was wet and needed a diaper change. He reached for one of the Huggies he’d purchased. He continued to coo and make faces at the little girl, even blowing bubbles against her belly until she laughed. Minutes later, she had a dry bottom, her tears were gone, and she lay in his arms suckling a bottle of warm milk he’d collected from the kitchen.

  Although navigating babies was not his thing, he was fairly decent at the job, he thought. Desiree had given him more than his fair share of practice with his nephew Danny. He thought about the little boy who had given the family a scare when he’d been kidnapped several times. Thinking they might not find his nephew had been devastating. Palmer never wanted to know that feeling again, and the thought of Gavin running off with Lyra felt too similar for any comfort.

  Palmer smiled down at the little girl, Lyra’s bright eyes dancing across his face as she studied him. She smiled back and a puddle of milk trickled onto her chin. He gently wiped the drool away with the cloth towel tossed over his shoulder.

  “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, little lady?” His voice was a loud whisper as he stared into her blue eyes. He brushed his hand lightly over her head and tousled the wisps of blond hair. “I’m so sorry about your mommy. My mommy died when I was a little boy, too. But it’s going to be okay. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I don’t want you to worry, because that new mommy of yours is a pretty special lady. She is going to love you so hard! And I know she will do everything in her power to make you the happiest little girl in the whole wide world.”

  Lyra kicked her legs in response and smiled again, another puddle of milk rolling onto her chin.

  “We really need to work on that,” Palmer said as he dabbed the moisture away. “Try to swallow before you smile at me, kiddo.”

  Lyra tossed the bottle aside and stretched the length of her body. Lifting her to his shoulder, Palmer gently patted her back until she burped. Loudly.