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A Conard County Baby

Page 5

by Rachel Lee


  “You wouldn’t think. But scandal was all I heard about, that and how I wasn’t going to ruin a young man’s promising future with my selfishness. It really got ugly. So here I am. The explanations are theirs not mine.”

  “Do you have any?”

  “Considering how all this blindsided me? No.”

  He went back to making the bacon and started popping toast into a toaster. “Well, whatever is behind it, you know how you were treated. You said you were under house arrest. How the hell did you get away with more than the clothes on your back?”

  “I said I was going to see my Great-Aunt Mary in Austin. I claimed I needed time to think, and they knew she agreed with them. They even made arrangements with her so I’d be properly watched. They thought I was flying and arranged for me to be escorted to my flight by the butler and met on the other end by one of my Aunt Mary’s people. But when they were gone, I loaded my car. Or rather the butler did. Poor man. I hope he still has a job. He thought I’d just decided to take a nice drive instead of flying. I doubt he knew much about what was really going on.”

  “You might be surprised. Maybe he was rooting for you.”

  Amazingly, Hope smiled. She rather liked the idea that the butler might have been her ally. He’d always been good to her.

  Cash scrambled some eggs, and the next thing she knew she was facing a plate with a generous portion of eggs and bacon. A tall stack of buttered toast stood between them.

  She sampled everything before talking again. “This is great. I need to learn how to cook.”

  That brought his head up.

  “I know,” she said, catching his surprise. “I don’t know how to do some of the most important things in life. I’m a babe in the woods and I need a teacher.”

  “Hattie, my housekeeper, might be willing to help you out. I’ve found that people generally love to talk about what they do.”

  “If it wouldn’t add to her burden. Maybe Angie and I could learn together.”

  “Angie may already know something about it.”

  Hope nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re probably right. I’ll ask her first.”

  Angie might like being a teacher to her, Hope thought. It might be one of the first steps in the right direction. “There’s a lot Angie could probably teach me.”

  “And maybe some she shouldn’t,” he said humorously.

  “You could say the same about me,” she replied, without any humor at all. Unwed and pregnant. If she was here very long that would have to be explained to Angie. Given the dimensions of what had happened, she quailed at the very idea. It had been hard enough telling Cash, and he still couldn’t grasp it.

  Come to that, neither could she. From time to time, in her battered heart and brain, a thought would rise up: something else was involved, something she didn’t know about. Something more than social standing, scandal and Scott’s bright future.

  Because it was still very hard for her to believe that her parents thought more of Scott than of her. That they refused to accept that he could have raped her. That it was more important to bury something like that than to protect her. She hadn’t even asked to file charges against him. All she wanted was to end the engagement and keep her baby.

  She almost put her head in her hands, but she had been doing that for too long. She had made good her escape, she was now employed, and while she still had a lot of wounds she was sure she was going to have to deal with, the important thing was to find a way to give this child a reasonably secure future. She could do that. After all, she wouldn’t be the first, or last, single mother in the world.

  Cash spoke. “Frankly, my first thought was that an unwed mother was exactly the wrong person to look after my daughter.”

  Her head snapped up. “Then I’ll leave.”

  “Let me finish. I changed my mind. When the time is right, feel free to talk to Angie about it in whatever terms you prefer. It might be good for her to know that bad things can happen out there.”

  Hope felt torn. Angie had confided to her about a restraining order, and as she heard those words it struck her that Cash hadn’t heard about it. Angie knew bad things could happen out there, although maybe not the depth and degree of some of them. But the girl wasn’t an innocent—certainly not the kind of innocent Hope had been at that age...or even more recently.

  But she had virtually promised that she wasn’t going to pass along anything Angie said—with a mental reservation for anything that seemed truly important for Cash to know. She had to stick to that, and a restraining order from the past against someone who had harassed the girl’s mother didn’t fit that bill.

  “It’s up to you, of course,” Cash said, apparently taking her silence as reluctance. Nor could she correct that impression because it was partly true.

  “Well, something’s going to have to be explained to her before much longer,” Hope admitted. “My jeans are getting too tight. Before long I’ll be showing.”

  “Well, I can take care of the jeans when we go see the doc.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not right, Cash. I have about a hundred dollars, and some things can wait until you pay me.”

  “Not the doc for sure.” He arched his brows at her. “Some things just aren’t right, Hope. Get used to it. I may not understand your family, but I know where my own values lie. Let it be, and let me do what’s right.”

  A pretty remarkable man, she thought as she tried to help clean up after breakfast. Nearly everything was a new challenge to her, even filling a dishwasher.

  That gave her some thinking to do. She had had no idea how much she had failed to learn simply by being raised in the lap of luxury. Her laundry list of ignorance was growing by leaps and bounds.

  In fact, when she thought about it, she decided she had been raised worse than a prize filly and more like a hand-fed lap dog. How very humbling.

  * * *

  “I’ve got a few minutes before I have to get to work,” Cash announced when they’d cleaned up. “I’ll show you the barn, you can meet the horses and see where all the tack is. You can saddle your own horse?”

  “I’m used to English saddles, but I can probably figure it out.”

  He surprised her with a laugh. “English, huh? None of that around here. A pommel is too useful. I’ll show you. Plus, I guess I need to show you the right way to ride Western.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “There are a couple of things. For example, we don’t use the horse’s mouth to guide it. No pulling on the reins.”

  “Then how...”

  He interrupted her. “I get the idea that I’m going to need to give you a lesson first. How about we saddle one up and I’ll show you? It’ll be easy enough once you’ve tried it.”

  Hope grabbed her jacket and followed him to the barn. “I’m amazed. I lived in Texas but learned to ride English. I never rode Western. I never even thought about there being differences.”

  He flashed her that devastating smile of his. “There are. But like I said, you’ll find this easy. We use neck reining instead of mouth reining, and we exert the rest of the control by shifting our weight in the saddle. In all, especially with the saddle spreading the weight out better, Western style is better for putting in a whole day. The horses don’t tire as fast. You’ll see.”

  “But don’t you need to get to work?”

  “This won’t take long. A couple of turns around the corral and you’ll have it. Angie got it pretty quickly. I just don’t want her riding alone for obvious reasons. If something went wrong and we didn’t know where she was, it could take a helluva long time to find her.”

  “And she gets home from school today around four?”

  “Yeah. Kinda late to take her on much of a ride. If you can persuade her, you guys could go out for a much longer tim
e tomorrow.” He paused. “Are you sure you should be riding?”

  “I had a friend who continued riding into her sixth month. The main concern was falls. Anyway, I promised Angie. I’ll be careful, just find me your laziest horse.”

  Hope wondered how patient Angie would be since she’d sort of promised a ride. Well, she’d find out this afternoon. In the meantime, she still needed to learn where the tack was and how to do everything, from saddling the horses to caring for them after the ride.

  And if there was one thing she was determined to make clear to Angie before they even started on this venture, it was that a rider took care of her mount. Period.

  Hope might not know how to cook or clean or even do laundry, but she sure as heck knew how to take care of a horse. She’d have been off the equestrian team instantly if she had refused to do it.

  Besides, she enjoyed it. Caring for a horse felt rewarding in a way trips to the gym and playing tennis never would.

  The Western saddle was heavier than she was used to, and Cash expressed some concern about her lifting it.

  “I’m pregnant, not sick.”

  Another one of those smiles. Dang, the last thing she needed was for her heart to beat faster because a man smiled at her.

  “I know,” he said. “But lifting... We’ll ask the doc. And about riding, too. In the meantime, just take it easy, okay? And do me a favor, don’t fall off. This mare is as gentle as they come, but...”

  “Hey, don’t you want to thrill my family?” It was a poor joke, and she knew it instantly by the way his face darkened.

  “No,” he said shortly, and became all business from that point. She guessed he’d become angry. She shrugged mentally. If she thought about it too much, she became furious. It was kind of touching that this man who had barely met her could already grow angry on her behalf.

  Between her father and Scott, she had just about decided that all men were monsters. She might need to revise that a bit.

  The differences in riding style were easy, as he had promised. She supposed sitting in the Western saddle acted as a reminder that she needed to change her habits. He was right, a few turns around the corral and she had mastered neck reining and shifting her weight in the saddle. Of course, he had selected a horse for her that probably was utterly patient and far smarter than any rider. That was okay, because she was pregnant and didn’t need a spirited mount that might get an urge to toss her.

  A half hour later he left to take care of whatever his business was, and she walked back to the house looking ahead to a pretty empty day. Hours to fill before Angie came home, and unfortunately in her rush to escape, she hadn’t packed a lot of reading material. She had her ebook with her, but since her credit had been closed, she doubted she could buy anything else.

  Simmering anger at her family made her stomach burn, but she was getting used to that. Shock had given way to acceptance, whether she liked it or not, but acceptance didn’t ease her anger. She felt like a soiled rag that had been tossed in a trash bin by the very people who should have stood beside her. It was not an easy thing to live with.

  Then there was her reaction to Cash. She barely knew the guy, but she’d already raised him in her estimation to heights once reserved for Scott. That ought to be a warning to her. Even knowing someone for years didn’t mean you knew everything about them. Trust needed to be offered with great care.

  Inside she found the housekeeper, Hattie, in the kitchen and introduced herself. “I’m Angie’s new companion, Hope.”

  “Companion?” Hattie, who appeared to be in her early fifties, with graying hair and a motherly figure, scanned her from head to toe. “Good luck with that one.”

  Hope hesitated. “Should I get out of your way?”

  Hattie shook her head and returned to pulling items out of the cupboards and fridge. “I don’t mind company while I cook. Since you’re living here, got anything special you want for dinner?”

  “I’m fine with anything.” Her mother had always made up the menus for the week with the cook, and while she was at college, she ate whatever was available in the cafeteria. The only time she had any say in her meals had been at a restaurant.

  Hattie looked dubiously at her. “Even liver?”

  At that, Hope’s internal anger gave way to a laugh. “Not liver,” she admitted.

  “Knew there had to be something. There always is, if folks are honest. Cash don’t much like it, neither. Now my Don could eat it every night. Lucky for me he doesn’t insist on it. Pull up a chair. You look cold. Want some coffee or tea?”

  A half hour later, she’d learned a lot about Hattie’s life, her grown daughter and son, and the grandchild that was on the way. She couldn’t help feeling envious about a life that hadn’t been easy but had brought so much warmth and closeness to a family.

  All the while, Hattie’s hands were flying as she made casseroles for easy heating. Hope could barely keep up with what she was doing and finally asked, “Would you teach me how to cook?”

  That brought Hattie to a standstill. “You don’t know how?”

  “Not much. I’m okay with a microwave.”

  Hattie tsk-tsked and went back to stirring the contents of a bowl. “Something everyone needs to know, man and woman alike. Sure I’ll teach you. Plain cooking, but good. We’ll start Monday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ain’t much to it, gal. Once you get the basics, you can do most anything you want.”

  “Sounds like I’ll manage, then.”

  “Don’t doubt it. Only met one woman in my life who couldn’t. I swear she could burn water when she boiled it.”

  Hope giggled. “I probably could, too, right now.”

  “You look smarter than that to me.”

  “Then call me inexperienced. There’s a lot I don’t know. Like doing laundry and cleaning.”

  Hattie put her hands on her hips. “My. All right. As much as you want, I’ll teach. Gotta be able to take care of yourself.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Hattie shook her head. “Nobody ever taught you?” Then she stopped as if she understood and muttered, “Sorry way to bring up a child, others doing everything.”

  “I agree. And now things have changed and I have to change, too.”

  Hattie seemed to accept that without question. “Monday,” she said again. “I need to hurry today cuz my William and his wife will be here early, but Monday, we’ll have plenty of time to turn a hand at anything you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be thanking me. Tain’t no trouble, really. I taught my own and I’ll teach you. That Angie could use some teaching, too. Not my place.”

  “Maybe I can persuade her to join us.”

  Hattie snorted. “Not unless you got a magic wand.”

  Hope refused to let that comment cast her down. Hattie might be right, but she wasn’t going to start with that assumption. She’d glimpsed something in Angie that suggested that the two of them were more alike than they’d appear on the surface. Emotions might be a greater uniter than lifestyle.

  Hattie cleared out around noon, leaving enough ready-to-cook meals to carry them through the weekend. As she pulled on her jacket, she said, “Monday’s laundry day. We’ll cook and wash and get some floors done. Hope you’re ready to work hard.”

  “I am.”

  Hattie gave her the first smile. “I like you, girl. Just having you around will be a good example.”

  Hope certainly hoped she was right. At the moment she had little else to go on.

  * * *

  Cash finished bringing the cattle in closer, most of them pregnant cows and heifers. Winter would come soon, and he needed to check them all out, make sure they looked healthy enough to get through the cold to come. Those that didn’t he’d sell off. No point in feedin
g an animal that didn’t have the stamina to make it. If any were diseased, he’d need to put them down.

  Most of his newborn bulls had been sold off in the spring, but he retained a few of the youngsters as a hedge. You couldn’t breed hundreds of cows without enough bulls. Come spring, he’d cull the bulls.

  In the meantime, his attention was on preparing for the long winter to come. Extra nutrition, supplements and plenty of hay close by for use when ground grazing was no longer possible. His more-distant pastures were beginning to show signs of overgrazing, so the move couldn’t wait. He, his three hands and his dogs, all worked a practiced dance to bring the herds home.

  Overall, he was pretty pleased. It was starting to look as if this might be a very good year. His calves had brought a good price, leaving him well in the black for a change. As long as the winter didn’t turn too harsh, he figured he’d have another good spring.

  He finished early, and after they took care of the horses, he sent his hired hands home. Tomorrow or Monday would be soon enough to start running the cattle through the chutes to check them out. When the pace slowed a little around this place, he liked to give his men some extra time off. Lord knew, they worked hard enough when the tempo increased.

  As he approached the house, however, dogs racing around him in circles excited about the coming feeding, he realized his good mood was beginning to evaporate. Angie would be home now, he reckoned, and before long there’d be some kind of trouble. The growing gray of the sky overhead seemed like an omen.

  Damn, he had to stop thinking this way, feeling these things. Angie was his daughter. What’s more, irritating as she could be, to allow her to turn him into the kind of man she wanted to believe he was would be a loss for both of them.

  He had to remember her age, the troubles she was still trying to get past, how difficult this all was for her, and be the adult. Easier said than done, of course, when his stomach had a tendency to start knotting in anticipation.

  So he turned his thoughts to Hope. At least she didn’t give him heartburn. Yet. She was really nice to look at; he liked the way she reminded him that he was a man, not just a rancher, that he had ordinary needs...even if he couldn’t act on them. All those gentle curves, probably augmented by her pregnancy, made his palms itch to touch her. And without makeup and that fancy hairdo, a guy could almost imagine that she was approachable.

 

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