The Cowboy's Valentine Bride

by Patricia Johns

  On the fourth morning after a longer ride than usual, Kaitlyn leaned against the gate of Champ’s stall as Brody brushed him down. The morning was bright and the sunlight that flooded through the window felt warm against her legs. Outside it was cold, but inside the barn was cozy and the hay-scented air tickled her nose.

  Brody straightened and put a hand on his thigh with a wince. He’d be in pain, there was no doubt about it, but he was happier with his horse.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked without looking at her.

  She smiled wanly. “How do you do that?”

  He glanced over. “You’re tense. It shows.”

  She sighed. “You’re recovering nicely.”

  “Thanks.” He shot her a grin. “Is that a problem?”

  He was teasing, but she was serious. “You don’t need me full-time anymore.”

  “Okay.” He eyed her uncertainly, the rhythmic strokes with the grooming brush slowing to a stop. “Do you have another job you want to take?”

  “No.”

  Watching him ride this last week, she’d desperately wished he could find that missing piece of himself in their time together...but she wasn’t enough. She never had been.

  “You just want to be paid less?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “No.” She swallowed hard and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s not about the money, Brody. This is... We’re...” How on earth was she supposed to explain this? What was she supposed to do, tell him that she’d had a crush on him for years, and that being this close to him was making it hard to draw those lines? A woman didn’t just bare her heart like that.

  “Is it the day I almost kissed you?” His voice was low, and heat rose in her face at the memory of that hungry look in his eye.

  “Sort of,” she agreed. “I’m your nurse, but we also have some history. It complicates things. For us, at least.”

  “And if I give you my word of honor to keep my lips to myself?” There was a spark of humor in his eye, and she smiled wanly. It wasn’t only that moment by the fence.

  “You almost kissing me—it wasn’t your fault alone,” she admitted quietly. “I’m your nurse. It’s my job to keep it professional, and...”

  And she was having trouble doing that. She wouldn’t be able to turn him away if he were to try and kiss her again...even now. And she needed to be the stronger of them. He needed her to be, but she was playing with fire and she knew it.

  “You’re my ex-fiancée’s sister, and this is uncomfortable for you,” he concluded.

  “Yes.” The word came out in a rush of relief. That covered it quite nicely. It went deeper, but that was the essence.

  “I get it.” There was a heaviness in his tone, but he turned back to the brushing. Champ’s flank shivered with pleasure at the strokes. The joking was gone from his voice, and she wondered what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry,” she added. “I think it’s for the best. You need other people around you. Not just me.”

  “I’ve been clingy, have I?” he asked, glancing toward her again.

  He’d been the opposite of clingy, actually. He’d been irritatingly independent, but that hadn’t made this any easier on her emotionally. She was supposed to be getting over her feelings, paying her penance for having been part of the lie, not getting more attached.

  “It’s just hard for me,” she said finally, her voice catching. “This is better. Trust me. I’ll still be your nurse. Just not round-the-clock.”

  Her cell phone rang, echoing shrilly in the closed space, and her focus was momentarily shaken. Kaitlyn glanced down at the number.

  “It’s Mackenzie Granger,” she said.

  “Answer it.” Brody put his muscle into the grooming once more, his expression impenetrable. She paused, watching him as he worked. The phone rang again, and she picked up the call.

  “Hi, Mack,” she said, trying to sound normal.

  “Hi, Kaitlyn. How are you doing?”

  “Not too bad.” A lie, but it was unavoidable. “What can I do for you?”

  “Am I on speaker?” Mack asked.

  “No.” Kaitlyn chuckled. “What’s going on?”

  “You know how much I love my in-laws, right? Well, they’re insane. I mean, completely nuts. I love them dearly, but... Okay, so Chet’s aunt Bethany told me in all seriousness that newborns shouldn’t be touched too much, lest they get used to it. As if we should condition them not to expect affection. They’re in the world now, and their emotional needs are their responsibility.” Her tone made the eye roll evident. “Then his aunt Maureen told me that the more dirt the better—on premature babies! Their immune systems aren’t even fully formed yet. His aunt Felicity says that brandy—brandy!—is a great way to get your twins to sleep at the same time. Just booze them up! I’m exhausted, but that’s just crazy. Can you imagine what alcohol would do to a developing brain? I mean, it might explain Cousin Craig, but...”

  Kaitlyn laughed. “Wow. Well, I guess you’re up for all that mom advice now.”

  “Here’s the problem.” Mack’s tone softened. “I have a doctor’s appointment, and bringing two newborns is going to be hard. I’m still in a lot of pain since the C-section. I was wondering if you’d mind babysitting for a couple of hours. I need someone...normal.”

  “So the honeymoon has worn off with the Grangers, has it?” Kaitlyn chuckled.

  “Like I said, I love them dearly...” There was a wince in her voice.

  “I’m joking,” Kaitlyn said. “What time is your appointment?”

  “Two this afternoon.”

  This might be the perfect chance to pull away a little bit, get some distance. It would be a welcome distraction, that was for sure.

  “I think I could manage that. I also solemnly promise not to rub your babies in dirt or let them cry.”

  There was a smile in Mackenzie’s tone. “Thank you, Kaitlyn. I really appreciate this.” She paused. “Oh, and if Brody’s around, could you give him a message? Chet wanted his advice on a horse.”

  That was good for Brody, too—to be needed, to be invited. She covered the mouthpiece.

  “Chet needs your advice on a horse,” she said.

  “Sure.” Brody gave one last stroke with the currycomb and put it on the top of the fence rail.

  “Message delivered,” Kaitlyn said. “I’ll see you later.”

  When Kaitlyn hung up, Brody was looking at her with one eyebrow arched.

  “What’s going on, exactly?”

  “Something about a horse. I’m sure Chet will fill you in.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I’m babysitting this afternoon, so I’ll be out of your hair for a bit.”

  She sounded more confident than she felt. This was the right thing to do. Brody didn’t need her as a constant companion, and they both needed to live their own lives. Brody’s grit had paid off after all, and he was recovering more quickly than anyone hoped possible. He needed less of her, and she needed less of him, even if her desires weren’t in sync with what was good for her.

  This is a good thing, she reminded herself.

  But it was a good thing that ached a little too much like a goodbye.

  * * *

  WHEN BRODY ARRIVED at the Granger ranch, his leg was tight and aching. Kaitlyn’s words were still running through his mind. She wanted space—for both of them. It made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d been swatted away. It was his own fault. He was letting himself cross lines with Kaitlyn, and he knew better. And she was right.

  “Hey, Brody!” Chet’s truck rumbled up, and the tall cowboy cranked down the driver’s side window. “Thanks for coming by!”

  “No problem.” Brody slammed shut his own truck door, stretching his leg out tenderly.

  “I’ve got to check out a s
ituation with some ranch hands. I’ll be back in about ten minutes,” Chet said. “Just make yourself comfortable in the house, and I’ll swing back to pick you up.”

  “Sure.” What else could he say? Except that his nurse was in that house—the very woman trying to get some space from him. Ten minutes to a rancher could be two hours or all day. Brody knew that well enough, and he gave what he hoped was a casual wave as Chet cranked the window back up and rumbled on down the bumpy road.

  Brody stood for a moment in the winter chill, then he looked toward the house. He heaved a sigh, and limped in that direction.

  When he knocked, Mackenzie Granger opened the door, and she stepped back to usher him in.

  “Brody!” She gave him a quick hug. “You look great! How are you doing?”

  “Not bad.” He smiled. “Congratulations on the babies.”

  “Thanks.” Mackenzie glanced at her watch. “I wish I could stick around to catch up, Brody, but I’ve got an appointment. Chet will be glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah, I saw him outside. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Kaitlyn stood with both babies in her arms, and she cast Brody an unreadable look. He gave her a tentative smile.

  The Granger ranch house was clean, but cluttered with baby paraphernalia. Two bassinets sat next to a playpen, which had a few boxed toys inside it, as well as a stack of folded blue blankets and a few other gizmos that Brody didn’t readily recognize.

  “We’ll be fine,” Kaitlyn said to Mackenzie with a reassuring smile, and Mackenzie bent down to kiss both babies once more.

  “I haven’t left them yet... This is harder than I thought.”

  “Call any time you want to check up on them,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Thanks.” Mackenzie hitched her purse on her shoulder. “Two hours. I promise. Maybe less.”

  As the door shut, Kaitlyn turned toward Brody, a baby in each arm. They were smaller than they seemed they should be—two squished little faces and four tiny fists. They both wore white sleepers, and tiny caps, and there was something softer about Kate with the babies in her arms.

  “Hey, before you ask,” Brody said, “I’m here to see that horse Chet wants advice about, and he asked me to wait here for a few minutes while he takes care of something.”

  “I know you aren’t following me around,” she said, giving him the slightest of smiles. “But you might as well get comfortable. Who knows how long Chet will be.”

  Brody chose a chair by the window, the playpen next to him. He eased down, his leg twinging with pain. He rubbed a hand down his thigh.

  “Mackenzie’s different,” Brody said, glancing out the window to where she was starting the truck. In some ways, she was the same old Mack, but she was softer now, carrying some baby weight, but also altered. It was like she’d come back from a battle of her own.

  “Motherhood does that.” Kaitlyn smiled down at the babies. “Which one do you want?”

  “Which what?”

  In answer, Kaitlyn placed an infant into his hands and he reached out with fingers splayed as if he were catching a grenade. The tiny rump didn’t even fill his palm. He cradled the egg-delicate head with his other hand and stared in panicked surprise into the sleeping face. The baby squirmed and he pulled it close to his chest like a football.

  “I think that’s Jackson. And I’ve got Jayden. Aren’t they sweet?” Kaitlyn smiled at the infant in her arms and rocked from side to side.

  “I don’t know what to do with babies,” he said, panic rising inside of him. He certainly hadn’t signed on for babysitting.

  “Don’t rub him in dirt, and you should be fine.” She shot him a teasing grin. “Cute, aren’t they?”

  “Cute,” he agreed. Actually, they looked wrinkled and stick legged, like little old men with serious expressions, but he was relatively certain that observation wouldn’t be appreciated right now.

  Brody took a minute to adjust the baby and he grabbed a blanket from the pile in the playpen next to him. When he got Baby Jackson settled into a nest of blanket in the crook of one arm, he paused to look at him. Jeff had three kids, and the first—a boy—had been born while he was deployed. He’d returned to the States to meet his six-month-old son for the first time. It hadn’t been an ideal meeting, and every time he tried to pick up his son, the baby would howl. It took a few weeks for the baby to accept him. What Jeff wouldn’t have given to be able to hold his boy at this stage...

  He looked up to find Kaitlyn watching him.

  “I’d feel better if I was chopping wood or something while I waited,” he said with a wry smile. “That would feel more useful.”

  Kaitlyn rolled her eyes at him, then sank into a rocking chair opposite him. “Sometimes, the most useful thing you can do is just sit there.”

  “And heal?” he asked ruefully.

  Providing a steady heartbeat to a tiny little guy gave him something, too. When he joined the army, he’d pretty much put his own body on the line for America. Ironically, his own flesh and blood seemed to be the most useful thing he could offer, even now. Sitting in a living room with a baby in his arms didn’t tamp out the army instinct, though. His right hand stayed free to grab a gun that was no longer at his side—something he hadn’t been able to quell since his return.

  “See?” she said.

  He glanced up to see Kaitlyn looking at him with a tender expression on her face. She must have noticed a change in him, and truthfully, the tension had seeped from his shoulders and he didn’t feel so antsy anymore.

  “Yeah, okay...” he said.

  Jeff had been luckier than he—he’d had a family. He’d left them too soon, but he’d known what it was like to hold his children in his lap, to vow to love a woman till death parted them. Brody had always assumed he’d get married and have kids one day, but maybe he’d changed too much to have a family of his own. He wasn’t the laughing cowboy anymore. He was broken.

  Cowboys and soldiers were active men—fighting and wrangling, guarding and providing. They got out there and got ’er done. They were used to solitude and male comradery, and they bloody well didn’t go around asking for affection. Sex? Maybe. Brody wasn’t the type to find a one-night stand, though. Affection was something deeper than simple sexual release—something he couldn’t ask for.

  “You know what?” Kaitlyn looked at her watch. “The babies will probably be hungry soon.”

  She levered herself up from the rocking chair and came to Brody’s side. “Take Jayden, too. I’m going to start warming bottles.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she slipped the second baby into his other arm and he froze. They were both so small, and that instinct to keep his gun hand free was almost overwhelming.

  “I need a hand free,” he said.

  “The minute you can’t scratch, your nose will itch,” Kaitlyn said.

  That wasn’t it, but now that she mentioned it...

  “Actually—my forehead.”

  She ran a cool hand over his forehead, and the soft scent of her perfume lingered close. Her touch was silky soft and if he’d had a free hand, he’d have caught that slender wrist and tugged her closer still. Forget the phantom gun. He wasn’t feeling all fired up like a teenager. It was something different, something that sank down deeper. It was the lonesome part of him—the side that knew no one else understood but still didn’t want to be left alone.

  “Better?” she asked.

  She had no idea what her touch did to him. An image of exactly what he wanted rose in his mind, but he forced it back.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  She turned toward the kitchen and Brody watched her walk away. Kaitlyn was a beautiful woman, and he realized in this moment, with infants in his arms, that his longing for her hadn’t been the most obvious kind between a man and woman. He hadn’t wanted to pull
her into his lap and make her breathless...he’d wanted something more elemental.

  This was why men chopped wood and wrangled cattle. It gave vent to those deeper feelings with some dignity and hard work. Because when she’d touched his face, he’d longed for a connection much more vulnerable than racing pulses...he’d wanted a hug.

  As if on cue, Chet’s ranch trunk growled up the drive and came to a stop outside the window. He was off the hook—Brody breathed a sigh of relief. Time to do what he knew how to do—be a cowboy.

  Chapter Ten

  Gray clouds scudded across the pale sky as Kaitlyn put her foot into the stirrup and swung into Mary Kay’s saddle. She’d been doing her best to keep her distance, watching Brody ride from the fence and keeping her visits short. It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped, and it wasn’t getting easier, either. Today, he’d decided to take a longer ride, and watching by the fence hadn’t been an option. Brody was already mounted and waiting for her.

  “Glad you decided to come,” he said with a small smile.

  “Not like I had a choice when you pointed west and said, ‘Going that way. Send someone if I don’t come back by sundown.’”

  Brody chuckled and nudged Champ forward. “I’ve had enough of these canters around the field. I need to ride.”

  He’d had enough of careful perimeters, it seemed, and in a deep part of her, so had she. She was tired of being the responsible one, holding herself back, staying away. She wished she could just give in for a change and live to regret some poor decisions later. While it wasn’t part of her nature to just let go like that, this ride was a welcome change of pace for them.

  “How much pain are you in?” she asked.

  Brody shot her a bland look. “Some.”

  “Scale of one to ten?” she prodded. He knew what she wanted to know, and his level of pain mattered. Pain in the body was a warning sign. Sometimes you had to push past it, but that was best done with physical therapy, not a hard ride into the country.