Closing the driver’s side door, Cody decided to leave everything Miss Joan’s husband and step-grandson had loaded onto his truck. He would need help getting the things out and, since he didn’t see any other vehicle in front of the house except for Devon’s beaten-up truck, he assumed that the others hadn’t come home yet.
So, for the time being, he left everything where it was, except for the diapers. Those he took in with him.
After tucking one bag under his arm, he unlocked the front door. Ordinarily, the door was rarely locked. Safety around here was not an issue. But because he’d left Devon on her own with the baby, he felt justified in taking the extra precaution.
“Hi, I’m home,” he called out, closing the door behind him.
He thought it best to announce himself—just in case. After accidentally walking in on Devon when she was breastfeeding the baby, he didn’t want to take a chance on that happening again. She had enough to deal with without thinking that she had temporarily thrown her lot in with a voyeur.
“Devon?” Cody called out, although not too much louder. He didn’t want to risk waking up the baby if she’d fallen asleep somewhere close by, such as the living room.
But Layla wasn’t in the living room. Neither was Devon.
Because he was focused on finding her and her baby, Cody didn’t realize until he’d taken several steps into the living room that there was something else missing, as well.
The chaos that had been in the room as he’d left this morning was no longer there. Haphazardly thrown shirts and jackets, books and notepads, actually all the things that had been strewn around were no longer evident. In their place, order had been restored.
Out of all of them, Connor was the orderly one, but in the last few weeks, he’d been too busy with calving season on the ranch to pay attention to the growing piles in the living room that had all but taken on a life of their own.
Everything was neatly stacked, folded or just plain put away.
Cody made his way through the room, looking around uncertainly.
“Connor?” he called out, even though he hadn’t seen Connor’s truck parked anywhere outside. “Are you home?”
This time, he got a response, although it wasn’t from Connor or anyone else in his family. Instead, Devon walked into the room looking fairly pleased with herself.
“You’re home early,” she observed. “I didn’t think you’d be back for another hour.
He noticed that she had on a pair of jeans and a blouse that looked vaguely familiar. Her midnight black hair was loose and seemed to swing about her face as she walked. He had to force himself not to stare.
Another man might have said something about wanting to rush back home to see how she was doing, but Cody was nothing if not honest. His father had once observed that he didn’t think Cody knew how to lie.
“Everybody was fixated on having me go home early, so I finally took the hint.”
“Everybody?” Devon questioned, not exactly sure who he was referring to.
“Miss Joan mostly,” he clarified. “But the sheriff, too. He told me I’d do more good at home than at the office.” He looked around. “Did Connor come home during the day?” He thought that would be odd because, at breakfast, Connor had mentioned having to stay out all day.
“No, why?” she asked uneasily.
Was this about the living room? She’d wanted to do something nice and she’d wanted to keep busy, but maybe she’d overstepped her boundaries. She certainly didn’t want to annoy Cody and the others or offend them for some reason.
Cody gestured around the room. “It’s neat,” he said, clearly confused.
She watched his expression as she explained. “Oh, that—well, I thought since the baby was asleep and I had time on my hands...”
To her relief, he didn’t look angry, just mystified. “If you had time on your hands, you should have taken a nap, too,” he told her.
Devon shook her head. “Not my style,” she said, and then hastily assured Cody, “Don’t worry, I didn’t get rid of anything. I just organized it. The books are on shelves in the bookcase and the clothes are hung up in the hall closet.”
He looked around the room again, clearly impressed. It hadn’t been this uncluttered in a long time. “You did a nice job,” he said belatedly.
She beamed but made no comment. Instead, she pointed to the two large bags he was still holding in his hands. “What’s that?” she asked.
He’d almost forgotten. “Oh right. Miss Joan sent over some disposable diapers.”
The expression on her face couldn’t have been brighter than if he had just presented her with a five-carat diamond. Still, she was a little wary. “Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s Miss Joan,” he told her, adding, “It doesn’t get any more complicated than that, trust me. When she thinks something needs to be done or taken care of, she just does it.”
For now, Devon set aside her suspicions. “Really? That’s wonderful,” she cried.
Now that her guard was down, at least temporarily, Devon looked like a kid on Christmas morning, he thought. “She sent other things,” he told her.
This was beginning to feel like a dream, Devon thought. Who were these people anyway? She looked at him a little uncertainly.
“What other things?” she asked.
“They’re in the truck.” He decided not to wait for help. After all, he wasn’t exactly a weakling. He just had to exercise caution in lifting some things out. “I’ll bring them in,” he told her.
Within a few minutes, the newly uncluttered living room was filled with a different sort of clutter. There was a large box of baby clothes, ranging from newborn to twelve months old, a bassinet that looked as if it had come straight out of a fairy tale and a box of toys of various sizes, most of them stuffed.
It was too good to be true.
She could feel her eyes welling up as she ran her hand ever so lightly over the bassinet. Since it was mounted on wheels, it would be easy for her to move to any part of the guest room as well as into the living room and the kitchen if she needed to.
“This is wonderful,” she said in a small, halting voice, afraid to speak up because she thought her voice would crack. “Where did you get all this?”
“Miss Joan is very resourceful,” he told her matter-of-factly. “And,” he added, “there have been a number of babies born in Forever in the last few years. Miss Joan just knew who to call.
“Technically,” he specified, “these are all on loan—except for the diapers, of course.”
“I don’t care if they’re on loan,” Devon told him. “The fact that I can use them even for a little while is just wonderful,” she said, tearing up completely.
Cody noticed immediately. He’d heard her voice crack. Nothing made him feel more helpless than tears. “Oh, hey, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
“No,” she said and then promptly had several fat tears go cascading down both of her cheeks.
Unable to talk for a moment, she waved away any words that he was going to say. She knew she couldn’t answer him.
It took her a moment to catch her breath.
At a loss, not knowing what else to do, Cody took her in his arms and just held her, saying nothing. He didn’t want her to feel he was trying to intrude on her feelings or take advantage of her. He just wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what she needed.
Regaining control over herself, Devon took a deep breath and stepped back after a second. Cody handed her his handkerchief and waited until she’d fully composed herself.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “Just take your time. There’s no hurry.”
She pressed her lips together, still trying to regain control and to sound coherent. It took her another couple of minutes.
> When Devon could finally talk, she told Cody, “It’s just that no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Ever.”
“Well, they should have.” It was all that he would allow himself to say. He knew that if he gave voice to what he was feeling, if he said the negative things he was thinking about the man who had skipped out on her, it would do her no good to hear them.
Because he needed something to divert her attention for a moment, Cody directed it toward the bassinet.
“Let’s get this into your room and see how the princess likes her new sleeping accommodations,” he suggested. “Anything has to be an improvement over that drawer.”
Devon wiped away her tears, grateful to Cody for what he was attempting to do. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, playing along. “The drawer wasn’t such a bad idea. Actually, I think it was kind of sweet, seeing her in it. And,” she added, “it was definitely original.”
“Well, maybe not that original,” Cody admitted. “Before they found out about me, my parents really weren’t expecting another baby. Cole was in the only crib they had and they didn’t think putting both of us in that one crib was a good idea, so for about the first month, until they could find a second-hand crib for me, my dad had me sleeping in what used to be the sock drawer.”
She laughed, charmed. “Thank you for this.”
“Hey, don’t thank me,” he told her. “Thank Miss Joan. This was all her doing. She knew who to call and nobody says no to Miss Joan.” He winked. “It just isn’t done.”
“Well, tell her I think she’s wonderful,” Devon said and then added, “And I think you’re wonderful, as well.”
Overwhelmed with gratitude and just plain happiness, Devon meant to underscore her thanks with a kiss to his cheek. But this time, just as she was about to brush her lips against it, Cody turned his head to say something to her.
Which was how her lips wound up on his.
To say that Cody was surprised to find himself in that position would have been a huge understatement. He more than half expected Devon to pull back.
But she didn’t.
Once what had happened registered with her, instead of quickly pulling away and mumbling some sort of embarrassed, half-coherent apology, Devon surprised them both by continuing the contact.
And just like that, the kiss transformed to one that was meant to be a person-to-person kiss rather than just a quick, fleeting peck on the cheek.
The moment the kiss deepened, it became a genuine kiss.
For just a moment, she let herself go—all the pent-up feelings, anxieties, emotions, everything that was inside her rose within her chest and found release in the timeless contact.
Stunned, Cody was afraid that if he reacted accordingly, he’d scare her off.
But then he decided to risk it by folding his arms around her and drawing her just a hint closer. Her mouth tasted sweet, sweeter than anything he could recall ever having sampled.
If he continued on this route, emotions might just spike, rising to a level where they were not easily kept in check.
So it was with the greatest reluctance that he forced himself to break contact and end the kiss.
“Sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you.”
“You didn’t,” she whispered.
Then, afraid of what he might think of her for needing him like this, Devon stepped back. “I made dinner,” she told him. “I hope Connor won’t mind.”
“Mind?” he repeated. “He’ll be relieved and thrilled. Connor hates cooking. He just does it out of necessity.” He confided, “We all do. But I didn’t bring you here to clean and cook,”
“I know that,” she replied. “But I didn’t know what else to do with myself.”
He smiled at Devon. “The word rest comes to mind.”
“I did,” she told him. “But I couldn’t do that all day,” she protested.
Cody laughed. “I know several people who could argue that point with you.” He was about to say something else, but Layla began to cry. “Is she hungry?” he asked.
Devon checked the baby’s bottom first. “No. You brought those diapers home just in time,” she told him.
“Need help?” he asked.
She was about to tell him that she could do it herself and then had second thoughts. “An extra set of hands might be nice,” she told him.
“Funny you should say that. I just happen to have a set,” he said with a grin, holding his hands up in the air the way a surgeon might when entering an operating room. “Let’s get your daughter dry.”
Devon could only smile at that. Smile and fervently pray that she wouldn’t wake up too soon.
Chapter Twelve
“Well, it’s official,” Connor declared, pushing back his empty plate on the dining room table. For a moment, he sat there, feeling too full to even move. For once he’d eaten too much, something he rarely did. But it had definitely been worth it. “You have a place here for as long as you want, Devon.” A sigh of contentment escaped his lips. “That has to be one of the best meals I can remember ever having eaten. Where did you learn how to cook that way?” he asked her.
Color crept up into Devon’s cheeks. The oldest McCullough’s compliment had embarrassed her even as it pleased her.
“Necessity,” Devon replied simply. “My mother taught me how to make do with whatever I found in the refrigerator and the pantry. Adding a few spices and flavored breadcrumbs to the mix can really work miracles if you do it right,” she said modestly.
“Well, whatever it is that you’re doing, keep right on doing it,” Cole told her, joining the chorus of approval.
Cody had enjoyed the meal as much as everyone else had, maybe even more, but he really didn’t want Devon to feel obligated or put upon. “C’mon, people, you don’t want to make her feel like she’s got to keep cooking for us,” he protested.
“I’m with Cody. You’re going to make her feel like an indentured servant who can’t say no,” Cassidy said.
“No, really, I don’t mind,” Devon said. “It makes me feel that I’m at least paying you back in some small way for all your kindness,” she told the others as she started to gather up the dinner plates and silverware. “Besides, I like cooking.”
“Well, you can go on cooking for us if you don’t mind doing it, but no way are you going to wash the dishes after the meal’s over,” Cody informed her sternly, moving the stacked dishes away from her.
“Cody’s right,” Cassidy told her. “Cooking is a talent—washing dishes is just grunt work.”
“Glad you feel that way,” Cody told his sister. “As I remember, it’s your turn in the kitchen.” He pushed the dishes in front of Cassidy.
Cassidy pursed her lips, frowned and then, with a sigh, got to her feet as she picked up the stack of dirty dishes.
“No, really,” Devon insisted, “I don’t mind cleaning up after a meal.”
“You might not,” Connor allowed, “but we do. Cassidy’s right. Cooking is more than enough. Cleaning up would turn you into a maid and you’re our guest,” Connor informed her.
The discussion was abruptly cut short by the McCulloughs’ tiniest guest. Devon had wheeled Layla’s bassinet into the dining room, placing it in the far corner so that she’d be able to hear her daughter when she woke up.
Which she did.
“I believe that settles the argument,” Cody quipped with a laugh. Not waiting for Devon to cross to the bassinet, he got there ahead of her. “And what’s your complaint?” he asked the infant, looking down at the little puckered face.
“Well, I fed her and changed her just before dinner so my guess is that she probably just wants attention,” Devon speculated.
“Then attention is what this little princess is going to get,” Cody declared.
Leaning over the bassinet, he deftly picked up the baby. Layla settled down the moment he had her against his shoulder.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it looks like she’s taken a shine to you,” Cole told his brother.
“Why not?” Cassidy spoke up. “They’re about the same age.”
“Don’t pay any attention to them, Princess,” Cody told the infant in his arms. “They’re just jealous because you like me better than them.”
Infants weren’t supposed to be able to recognize anyone and most likely it was gas that was responsible for that funny little twist of her lips, but Devon chose to believe otherwise.
“She does seem to light up around you,” Devon agreed, smiling.
And Layla isn’t the only one, she added silently. She shut out the thought since she was in a vulnerable place right now and Cody was being nice to her. There was no reason to make anything of that. She knew what could happen if she wasn’t vigilant about her feelings.
Out loud she told Cody, “I guess she senses how kind you are.”
“Or maybe she just thinks you need a friend your own age,” Cole cracked.
Cody turned his back on Cole, ignoring his brother. The baby had all his attention. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Princess. He just likes to hear himself talk.”
“C’mon, sweetie, it’s time to give you your first bath,” Devon told her daughter as she took the infant from Cody.
“A bath?” Cole echoed, concerned. “Isn’t she a little small for that?”
“Not really.” Devon laughed. “I’m bathing her in the bathroom sink, not the bathtub,” she assured Cody’s brother. Seeing the somewhat-concerned looks on all their faces, she assured the others, “She’ll be fine. I’m going to be in complete control.”
“Want some help?” Cody volunteered.
She wanted to tell him that she didn’t need help, that she had this covered, but that was just her independent streak talking. The truth of it was that every new thing she attempted with her daughter had her trembling inside.
So rather than turn Cody down, Devon flashed a relieved smile at him and accepted his offer. “That would be very nice of you.”
COWBOY AND THE BABY, THE Page 11
