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The Texas Cowboy's Baby Rescue

Page 15

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  She retwisted her hair and knotted it on the back of her head again. “Nick and Sage have invited us to bunk with them at the Triple Canyon as soon as the remodeling is complete, in another month. In the meantime...”

  Her eyes lifted to his and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he listened in silence.

  “...Sage’s mother, Lucille Lockhart, has said we could all move out to the guest quarters on her Circle H ranch—a six bath, six bedroom bunkhouse with full kitchen and living area. As well as staff at our disposable, should we need it.”

  She sounded really happy and relieved about all of this. Which begged the question—did she really not know how bereft the new arrangement would leave him?

  He forced himself to do what she was doing, and focus on the welfare of their two little charges. “Seems like you have it all figured out.”

  She studied him, intuitive as always. “You’re upset. Or maybe insulted?”

  He definitely felt burned by the way she had left him out of the equation. No question. Although maybe he shouldn’t. She’d made it clear from the start that her fling with him, as well as her lodging here, was only a temporary solution to a very long-term problem.

  She caught his hand in hers. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

  The feel of her smooth skin touching his brought only partial comfort. He shrugged and tried to summon up what little gallantry he seemed to have left. “I’m just wondering if I should read anything into this.”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  With a disgruntled frown, he stepped back. “It’s interesting that you will buy a property with your sister, but not allow me to buy you the house that you wanted in town, and rent it back to you, thereby eliminating all these complicated financial and domestic arrangements.” That are going to take you and Riot and Robby away from the Western Cross and away from me.

  She leaned back against the washer and looked up at him. “It’s not the help I’m rejecting. It’s the way it might look to outsiders.”

  Unsure what she meant, he waited.

  “I guess if we are able to locate the biological mother and get proof the baby isn’t yours, then that part of the scandal goes away and anything you do would be viewed as noble. If we don’t...” She flushed and shook her head in silent remonstration. “Then, as you said, people are always going to wonder.”

  Reluctantly, he had to admit to himself that she had a point.

  “And if you buy a home to house the kid—and his caretaker—in, people will really wonder. It will fuel the talk. It’ll hurt your reputation. And my chances to foster-adopt.”

  Unfortunately, Cullen had to admit, that was true, too.

  Her eyes shone. “It will also make it look like I can’t do this as a single parent.” Her low tone took on a defiant edge. “When we both know I can. I just need a little help to get started, since this was all so sudden. And my family, the whole Monroe clan, and even Lucille Lockhart—my brother’s mother-in-law—will be here to back me up. Now and in the future. You yourself have promised me the same.”

  He certainly had.

  Glad she had taken his offer to heart, he listened quietly as she continued.

  “As you pointed out, that is a very powerful statement to make on my behalf. Mitzy agrees. She thinks her supervisors and the family court judge will, too. In fact, with this new plan and all the concrete ways my siblings have vowed to help me, she thinks I now have a real shot to foster-adopt Robby.”

  Cullen could see how much this meant to her.

  Worse, he felt like the world’s biggest jackass for making this more about him and their new romance than the two little ones they should be looking out for.

  “Of course, it goes without saying—” Bridgett choked up “—I want you to be a part of our lives, even after we move out.” She waved a hasty hand, amending in a low, strangled voice. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

  He took her in his arms, holding her close. “Of course it’s what I want, sweetheart.” He buried his face in the intoxicating lavender fragrance of her hair. “Never ever doubt that, okay?”

  “O-kay.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just...” She gulped and went on, voice even more wobbly. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

  He drew back. “Badly?”

  She laughed, as he meant her to. But her smile trembled as tears glistened in her eyes.

  And suddenly he knew her moving out was going to be every bit as difficult for her as it was for him. “I’ll miss you,” he rasped. “When you go.” If you go. He was still working on a plan to keep her here. And not just temporarily.

  “I’ll miss you, too.” She hugged him back.

  He lowered his head and delivered a tender kiss. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You-all aren’t gone yet.”

  That night, after they put the little ones to bed, they made love again. He laid claim to her lips and body as he wanted to lay claim to her heart and soul. And this time, when they came together in shattering sensation, he knew—even if she didn’t, yet—that there was no going back for either of them. She belonged to him, and he to her, and that was the way it was always going to be. Together, they would have the passionate relationship and family they had both always wanted. Whether she—and Robby and Riot—moved out temporarily or not.

  * * *

  BRIDGETT HAD KNOWN that Cullen wouldn’t be happy about her news. She had also known he was practical enough to understand why she had to lean on her family more than him right now.

  The sexy, tender way he’d made love to her the night before had proved it.

  She’d returned the gesture by putting all the hope she felt for their future into her lovemaking, too. Hence, they both woke up in a fine mood. Which was a good thing. Tuesday was going to be a big day. “The trucks are here.” Bridgett marveled at the sight shortly after dawn.

  One after another, the cattle haulers and Cartwright Ranch trucks rumbled up the road.

  His expression now all business, Cullen watched a late model luxury pickup park close to the ranch house. “And so is Dirk Cartwright.” He grabbed his hat from the hook by the door and settled it on his head.

  Bridgett resisted the urge to kiss Cullen goodbye, the way a wife did when she sent her husband off to work, and contented herself with one last long look, instead. “I didn’t realize he was coming here, too.” She followed him to the door.

  “A purchase this big?” Cullen flashed a smile. He bent his head and briefly captured her lips. “He’s going to want to check on the herd in person.”

  While Bridgett and the baby watched from the window, Cullen met the snowy-haired rancher outside. The hardy six-foot cattleman vigorously shook Cullen’s hand. The two set off.

  All morning long, both the Western Cross and Cartwright Ranch crews worked fiercely. One by one the big semi cattle haulers and the Cartwright Ranch pickup trucks drove away.

  At one point, the two men left, too.

  When Cullen returned, he was alone and looking a little shell-shocked. Bridgett met him at the door. “Are you okay?”

  Noting all was quiet, Cullen took her by the hand and led her back onto the front porch so they could talk. “Dirk Cartwright made me an incredible, unexpected offer. He wants to sell me the Cartwright Ranch.”

  Bridgett did a double take. “In Nebraska?”

  Cullen nodded and sat down the steps, overlooking the ranch. “Sixty-five thousand acres. Five thousand head of cattle.”

  Bridgett settled beside him. “That’s more than your dad has, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  She turned slightly to face him, her bent knee nudging his muscular thigh. “Can you afford it?”

  He grinned. “Here’s the miraculous part.” He leaned forward in a confidence-inspiring pose, forearms on his thighs. “Dirk Cartwrig
ht wants me to move there now and begin managing the operation. And buy in incrementally, year by year, until I own it all a decade from now.”

  A front was moving in, turning the late-afternoon sky a dark blue-gray. Bridgett shivered in the newly cool air. “You’d sell the place here?”

  Cullen nodded, seeming oblivious to the damp, chilly air. “I’d have to. But it wouldn’t be a problem. Jeanne Phipps has told me more than once she could sell any property I renovate.”

  Bridgett folded her arms in front of her to cover up the pearling of her nipples and wished she’d thought to put on a sweater. “You wouldn’t flip the Cartwright place?”

  “No.” His voice was casual. “It’s state-of-the-art already. I’d probably change the name once I owned it, though.”

  Her heart skidded to a halt, then took up an erratic beat. She perched on the edge of the top step. “So, are you going to take him up on his offer?”

  Even though he had just been talking like the decision were already made—at least on some level—Cullen seemed brought up short by her assumption. He turned to her, dark brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I can barely wrap my head around it right now.” He paused to study her in concern. “This upsets you?”

  What could she say to that that would be true and wouldn’t hurt him? After all, he had supported her through so much, worked side by side with her to see she achieved her dreams. Which, even now, weren’t quite within reach. Even if they soon would be.

  Scolding herself for her selfishness, she straightened. “No, of course not. I’m proud of you, Cullen.”

  And she was. She was just sad for herself. Because once again, she was involved with a man who had dreams that were right for him and not for her. She feigned an enthusiasm she couldn’t begin to feel. “How long do you have?” she asked brightly.

  “Dirk Cartwright told me to take a couple of weeks to think about it.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it will take that long to make a decision, though.”

  Bridgett knew what she hoped it would be.

  The phone rang. He looked at his caller ID. “It’s Dan.” He picked up and put the call on speakerphone so Bridgett could hear. “Hey, little brother. Got some news for us?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Dan said gruffly, his voice coming out loud and clear, “I do. We still haven’t been able to locate either Marie Griffin or her parents but we did talk to the neighbors at their home in San Angelo.”

  Bridgett tensed.

  Cullen put his arm around her.

  “And?” he prodded.

  Dan continued, “They said Mr. and Mrs. Griffin aren’t exactly model parents. In fact, they’ve complained for years about how the burden of having a child in their teens cramped their style. When they came into a small inheritance late last fall, they quit their jobs and put their home on the market. It sold around Valentine’s Day. They stored what few belongings they decided to keep, then took off to backpack across every mountain range in America.”

  Cullen asked, “Did their daughter go with them?”

  “No. According to her parents, she took off in January to start living her own life. Which they had expected her to do, anyway, as soon as she was eighteen. The fact she left a little earlier than that was not a surprise to her folks. They said she was always independent to a fault.”

  “Independent or neglected?” Bridgett murmured.

  Dan exhaled. “From the sound of it, a little of both. Anyway, no one has seen any of the Griffins in several months. Although we do have the parents’ cell phone numbers and we are still trying to get in touch with them.”

  “What about Marie?” Cullen asked. “Does she have a cell phone?”

  Dan exhaled. “No one knows. What they do know is that the parents refused to pay for one. Said whatever Marie had, she had to earn.”

  “So we still have no idea where Marie is?” Cullen asked, sounding impatient once again.

  “None. We had the school guidance counselor call in her friends, Sherri and Dawn, today. She asked them if they had any info on their friend. They both said no.”

  Noting how nervous Bridgett was getting, Cullen wrapped his arm even more tightly about her shoulders. “Did the counselor believe them?” he asked.

  Dan scoffed. “Not for a red-hot minute. So Mitzy and I are going to the school to talk to them tomorrow afternoon. The school asked that their parents be there, too, so that was as soon as we could arrange it.”

  “You’ll let us know?”

  “We will.” Dan paused. “And since Bridgett is there with you, on to a more cheerful note—when is the party starting?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Party?” Cullen rolled to his feet as a bevy of vehicles came down the lane.

  “Actually...” Bridgett winced, standing, too, and wishing she’d had a moment to prepare Cullen for the celebration she had planned. “The McCabes are already arriving en masse.” It was Cullen she hadn’t exactly expected to be here yet.

  “Great! Be there in fifteen.”

  Cullen turned to her, an unreadable expression on his face. Without warning, they were back to the first day in the hospital corridor with him not trusting her one bit. “Bridgett? What’s going on?” he ground out.

  Too late, she realized she’d made a huge mistake. “Surprise!” she said weakly.

  He wheeled around and strode across the porch and back into the ranch house. Fury emanated from every pore. “Who-all did you invite?”

  She struggled to keep up with him. “Frank and Rachel. Your five siblings.”

  He drummed his fingers on the kitchen island. “Anyone else?”

  “Ah...no.” She hadn’t been quite sure how this was going to go, so she hadn’t wanted an audience if it turned out to be unbearably awkward.

  He exhaled heavily. Abruptly looking as if he had the whole world on his shoulders. “I wish you hadn’t done this,” he said.

  Right now, so did she. “Too late,” she offered brightly, as Robby, alert to the new tension in the ranch house, began to fuss. Bridgett went to get the baby. Riot, who’d been sleeping on his cushion, got up, went into the very back of his crate and settled there, watchful.

  Rachel and Frank came through the back door, bearing food and beverages. “Congratulations!” Rachel said, stopping to kiss Cullen on the cheek. “We’re so glad you agreed to have a party now!”

  Except he hadn’t agreed, Bridgett thought, observing her lover’s smile. He hadn’t known anything about it. And clearly would have vetoed it wholeheartedly if he had.

  Rachel set cellophane-covered trays of oven-ready enchiladas down. She turned back to Cullen to give him another big hug. “We are so proud of you! Selling out the entire group in three minutes!”

  Finally, Cullen began to relax. He couldn’t help but smile at his stepmother’s warm approval. “It was something, all right.”

  “A record for the Western Cross!” Frank stepped up to shake his eldest son’s hand.

  Matt McCabe came in. The military vet had been uncharacteristically joyless since returning from Afghanistan several months prior. Still, he managed a respectful smile as he put down the beer and sodas he carried and strode over to give Cullen a high five. “Way to go, man.”

  “Thanks,” Cullen said.

  Jack McCabe came in, carrying big take-out containers of Mexican rice and beans. The orthopedic surgeon had his two-, three-and four-year-old daughters—and their fifty-year-old nanny—in tow. Tragically widowed almost two years ago, he was being chased by hordes of women but had vowed far and wide to remain single for the rest of his life.

  He set the offerings on the counter, next to the enchiladas, held out his hand to Cullen. “You’ve got my respect, brother.”

  Cullen nodded. He dipped his head toward Jack’s brood. “Right back at you.”

  Businessman Chase McCabe came in, c
arrying a brand-new fine leather saddle from his manufacturing firm in one hand and a boxed cake in the other. He set the cake down and handed the saddle to Cullen. “Proud of you, man. And now that you’re such a big shot, maybe you could test this out for me and let me know what you think.”

  “Thanks.” Cullen shook his hand, practically beaming now. “I will.”

  Beginning to relax—it looked like this hastily arranged family get-together might work out, after all—Bridgett grinned, too.

  Cullen’s baby sister, Lulu McCabe, breezed through the door carrying a big bag of fresh flour tortillas from the Mexican bakery in town and a bottle of honey from her own hives. She set both down on the counter, then turned to hug Cullen and offer her congratulations. “And to celebrate,” she finished happily, “I’ve got everything we need for sopaipillas!”

  Last but not least, Dan came in, still in his sheriff’s deputy uniform, carrying a big bag of freshly made restaurant tortilla chips and salsas. “Way to go!” He took Cullen by the shoulder, brought him in close and shook his hand. “You’ve turned Western Cross into one fine ranch, brother!”

  Unable to keep quiet any longer, Bridgett burst in, “You don’t know the half of it! You should hear about the offer he just got!”

  Thunderstruck, Cullen turned to her.

  “What?” Rachel buzzed, excited, too.

  Cullen seemed at a loss as to how to begin to tell them. Bridgett helped him along. “Dirk Cartwright was just here. He offered Cullen a stake in his Nebraska ranch.”

  The only one in the room who did not look surprised by the revelation was Frank McCabe. “What kind of stake?” his father asked.

  Briefly, Cullen explained what he had already told Bridgett. With a lot less enthusiasm this time.

  “So, you’d have to pull up stakes and leave here?” Rachel asked, clearly upset by the notion.

  Her husband turned to her. “It’s an offer of a lifetime, honey. I think he has to at least consider it.”

  “Well, I disagree,” Lulu said, going to stand beside her brother. She wrapped an arm about his waist and grinned up at him. “I like having you here. I don’t care what anyone in town has been saying!”

 

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