Daddy's Little Cowgirl

by Charlotte Maclay

  Damn! Reed wasn’t into robbing cradles. He had a baby to take care of. What the hell did they expect him to do? Fortunately, Fuentes had realized the woman had gone off half—cocked.

  In frustration, he speared his fingers through his hair. Maybe he could advertise in an L.A. paper. He wasn’t averse to hiring a new immigrant, legal or not, and he’d even consider hiring a married couple. He sure as hell could use an extra hand around here.

  The phone rang. He picked it up on the first ring for fear the sound would wake Bets. “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Drummond? This is Dr. Richmond from Fort Worth General Hospital.”

  Reed remembered the doctor’s voice, the one who had been there when Betsy died. Fear knotted in his gut. Had they found out something was wrong with Bets? A problem that hadn’t shown up when she was in the hospital?

  “Is there a problem with the baby?” he asked abruptly, turning to find a piece of paper on the kitchen counter to write on in case he needed to make notes.

  “Not exactly, at least nothing medical. How is she doing?”

  “Seems fine to me.”

  “Have you taken her in for a checkup yet?”

  “I’ve got an appointment scheduled,” he lied. He knew from the books he’d borrowed from the library that she needed a six—week exam. He fully intended to see that happened. He just hadn’t made the call yet.

  “Well, she seemed quite robust and healthy at the time of birth. I’m sure she’s fine. But I’m calling for another reason.”

  His forehead tightened with a frown. Doctors didn’t call up former patients—or their parents—to pass the time of day. “What’s that?”

  “A woman from the state adoption agency dropped by to see me this morning. It seems there’s some question about whether you are a suitable adoptive parent for Betina.”

  The pencil he was holding nearly snapped, he was gripping it so tightly. “Her mother wanted me to raise her. Isn’t that a good enough reason for me to adopt her?”

  “At the time, I found it quite acceptable, and I’m confident you’ll be a fine parent for her. Otherwise, I would not have recommended releasing her into your custody.”

  “Now you’re having second thoughts?”

  “Not at all. I simply wanted to warn you that the adoptions people will be asking the social services office in your county to do a background investigation on you and the home situation you’re providing for Betina.”

  “She’s got a good home.” Better than he’d ever had. Reed would make sure of that.

  “I think they may be concerned about, well, what sort of a mother figure she’ll have in her life. My intent is not to be insulting, Mr. Drummond, but I got the impression this morning that the authorities may have some doubts about your character and stability. I gather you were a hired hand for some years with no permanent address.”

  “I’m as stable as they come.” Now that he’d settled down, it would take dynamite to blow him off the Rocking D.

  “Again, I don’t mean to pry, but is someone else helping to care for Betina? A woman, perhaps?”

  “I had a housekeeper,” he said gruffly. “She quit on me but I’m looking for a new one.” And the search was going damn slow. What the hell would the bureaucrats think of an illegal immigrant, he wondered. Probably not much.

  “Yes, well, I think they’d look more favorably on you if you were married—”

  “Married!” He nearly choked on the word.

  “—to a woman with an impeccable reputation. The authorities would hardly find room to quibble with you about adopting Betina if that were the case.”

  He slammed the pencil down on the counter. “I’m a good father to Bets. How the hell can they ask for more than that?”

  “I know it sounds unreasonable, and you may well be able to make a good case for yourself. But knowing how governments work, I thought I’d warn you.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for calling. It really made my day.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Drummond. And good luck.”

  The authorities damn well could quibble all they liked, he thought as he hung up the phone. He was Bets’s daddy. That’s what Betsy had wanted and that’s how it was gonna be.

  THE FOLLOWING DAY a letter came in the mail from the San Luis Obispo County, Department of Adoptions. It informed Reed his petition to adopt Betina Shoemaker was under review, and he could expect a social worker to visit within the next seven to ten working days for a home study. He would be asked to provide three local character references who would testify that he was a suitable parent.

  Damn! There weren’t three people in the whole country, much less in Mar del Oro, who’d make a statement like that. It’d be just the opposite, in fact. Most of the people in town would be happy to tell a nosy social worker that he was the last man on earth who’d make a decent father.

  Furious, he wadded up the letter and fired it across the living room. Tears ached in his throat and burned in his eyes.

  Betina was the best thing that had ever happened in his life. He’d do anything to keep her.

  Including marriage, if it came to that.

  Standing, he walked into Bets’s room and stared down at her asleep in the crib he’d bought from a used furniture store. He’d made a mobile out of a clothes hanger and some old baseball cards to hang above the crib, and tacked a poster of Snoopy on the wall. Not much of a nursery, he supposed, but Bets didn’t seem to care. He’d buy her nice stuff later, when the ranch was back on its feet and making money again. Anything Bets wanted.

  The only woman he knew with an impeccable reputation was sweet sugar—Annie. He wouldn’t mind having her in his bed, he admitted, but he doubted she’d be thrilled at the prospect of marrying him. From what he’d seen of her at the restaurant the other night, she went for guys in suits. Reed didn’t even own one.

  He rubbed the back of his fingers across Bets’s downy—smooth cheek.

  The only way Ann Forrester would marry him was if it was a temporary arrangement and he had something to trade, something she thought was damn important.

  SQUATTING BESIDE the flower bed, Ann used a trowel to scoop out a hole for the clump of pansies she’d bought at the nursery. She was late with her spring planting this year, and the yard looked colorless without fresh bedding plants to line the walkway to the porch.

  She’d vowed this would be the weekend she’d get it done, and trays of snapdragons, marigolds and pansies rested on the brick path waiting to be planted.

  Her home was in the hills above the town of Mar del Oro, where the houses were modest, the yards well kept, and the neighbors friendly. Mothers felt comfortable having their children play outside since everyone kept an eye on them.

  As she was tamping the loose dirt around the plant, she heard a truck driving up the street. It stopped at the curb behind her, and a prickle of unease edged down her spine. The only person she knew with a pickup was Reed Drummond.

  Still squatting, she swiveled in time to see him circling the truck to the passenger side. Her heart rate accelerated, and she tried to remain calm, shading her eyes against the glare of the sun with her hand. Why was he here? What did he want? More to the point, what did she want?

  She’d finally moved the cowboy miniature to the fireplace mantel. She’d told herself she was too embarrassed to take the piece back to Dora a second time, and it was a beautifully artistic creation, one worthy of display. But she suspected she had an ulterior motive she didn’t care to examine too closely.

  With ease of experience, he lifted the baby to his shoulder and hooked a diaper bag on his arm. With one slim, cowboy hip, he slammed the door shut. His expression was grim.

  Standing, she tugged off her gardening gloves and tucked them into the hip pocket of her jeans. Her baggy T—shirt was streaked with dirt, the knees of her pants muddy. Not wanting to fuss with her appearance that morning, she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and applied only a smidgen of makeup, enough to get her by for the quick trip to the nu
rsery.

  Reed gave her his patented once—over, the one that made her skin flush and her breath crowd in her chest. “Very nice, teach,” he drawled. “I didn’t think you were the kind who enjoyed getting down and dirty.” His brows rose just enough so she knew exactly what he meant by “down and dirty.”

  She ignored the implication. “I enjoy gardening.”

  His lips slipped into a wry smile. She hadn’t fooled him. He was reading her like a book—very likely an erotic one, fully illustrated. In color.

  “Was there something you wanted?” she snapped waspishly.

  “Oh, yeah.” He slid his gaze away from her to glance up and down the street. Two youngsters were in—line skating across the way, and Ann’s neighbor was washing his car in the driveway. Farther on, a couple of adolescents were shooting hoops at a basket attached above the garage door. “This is a little public for what I have in mind. How ‘bout we go inside?”

  Her heart rate stumbled. Just what did he have in mind? And did she want to know?

  “You asked a favor of me, teach. Now I’ve got one to ask of you.” He adjusted his hold on the baby and headed up the walkway.

  Ann had little choice but to follow. In spite of his outrageous remarks and flirtatious manner, it appeared Reed was here about mentoring Jason. She could hardly send him away when the boy needed so much help. Reed’s visit wasn’t anything personal.

  But being alone with him in her living room felt very much personal.

  He filled the space, not just because of his size but because of his swaggering presence even when he was standing still. Ann wondered how he could give that impression, particularly with a baby tucked against his shoulder. Somehow his rugged masculinity overwhelmed everything around him.

  Willing herself to break the heavy silence in the room, she asked, “How did you know where I live?”

  “A. Forrester. You’re in the phone book.”

  She’d always thought it important to be available to her students if they needed her. In the future, though, she’d consider an unlisted number. “I assume you’re here because you’ve decided to mentor Jason.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Tension eased from her shoulders. “That’s wonderful. I’m sure Jason will—”

  “But I need something from you in return.”

  She eyed him uneasily, noting the way his big hand rested protectively on the baby’s back, soothing the infant. Oddly, she thought if Reed chose to be, he’d be a very gentle lover, not rough or harsh as his appearance might suggest. Almost tender.

  She licked her lips, recalling the taste of his kiss—potent but not at all gentle. “What is it you want from me, Reed?”

  “It’s not what I want, sugar—Annie. It’s what I need.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I need you to marry me.”

  Chapter Five

  Never in her wildest imaginings had Ann expected to hear those words from Reed Drummond.

  “Marriage isn’t a laughing matter,” she said. Her knees had gone weak at his proposal—if that’s what it could be called—but she wasn’t about to collapse in a dither over what was more likely an obscene suggestion.

  “You’re right. The whole institution stinks. But I need a wife.”

  “What on earth for? If you’re talking about sex—”

  “I figure we can negotiate the conjugal rights part, but I guarantee it wouldn’t be a hardship on you.”

  “How romantic,” she countered. “I can’t recall the last time I had such a tender proposal.”

  “So that’s why you haven’t accepted any of them?”

  His remark was like a slap across her face. She’d never had a proposal. The rebellious bad boy she’d run off with thirteen years ago hadn’t considered marriage. Even if he’d known she was pregnant, he wouldn’t have stuck around. Since then, she’d avoided intimate relationships. She hadn’t been able to trust her own judgement. She couldn’t now.

  “That’s none of your damn business.”

  He ignored her as he juggled the baby and diaper bag, retrieving a flannel blanket, which he spread across one of the cushions on her couch. He laid the baby down on her back.

  In spite of herself, Ann was fascinated by how carefully he cared for his child, for all the world as if he were the infant’s biological father. “Are you sure she won’t roll off?” she asked, her experience with babies limited to those her friends had borne.

  “They can’t roll from their backs to their fronts till they’re at least a couple of months old, usually later. But I still watch her real good.”

  The baby stretched and cooed contentedly, her gaze searching through the unfamiliar environment for something colorful to focus on. This was Ann’s first close—up of the baby. She had a cap of dark hair, not unlike Reed’s, and her cheeks were chubby despite her delicate size. The pale pink stretch outfit she wore was too big, the excess fabric flapping freely beyond the limits of her limbs like a clown’s shoes.

  She was adorable, and Ann suddenly ached to pick her up and cuddle her. It had been a long time since she’d dreamed—

  ”Like I told you, I’m trying to adopt Bets, but the damn bureaucrats are planning to give me a hard time. My reputation isn’t exactly the best around here.” He gave a self—deprecating shrug which held not an ounce of remorse. “If I can’t come up with a wife, one who’s got a reputation that’s a hell of lot better than mine, they’re going to take Bets away from me. That’s not going to happen.”

  “Are you asking me to arrange a marriage for you to some—”

  “You’re it, sweet sugar. I don’t have time to mess around arranging anything.”

  “Well, you’re sadly mistaken if you think I’d consider marrying you.”

  “I’m not talking about a lifetime commitment. I only need a wife until the bureaucrats approve Bets’s adoption. Then you’d be free to go on your merry way.”

  “That’s insulting.”

  “In return, I’ll do what I can to straighten out Jason for you.”

  But at what price? The shock wasn’t so much that Reed would make such a proposition, but that she would consider it even for one single millisecond. Which she wasn’t going to do.

  She walked to the door and opened it. “I think you’d better go.”

  He didn’t budge but continued to stand by the couch, his stance wide—legged and aggressive. “Betina’s mother was Betsy Shoemaker. She was eighteen and so was her boyfriend. They’d both run away from a group foster home, mostly because she was being hassled by one of her would—be keepers. The two of them bummed around the country, picking up what work they could. In their whole lives, they never had anything. Not decent parents and sure as hell not much money. But they had each other, and then they were going to have a baby.

  “I don’t know why, but they latched on to me like I was a surrogate big brother, or something. I didn’t ask for it. But they stuck to me like glue, followed me from job to job. I couldn’t get rid of them.

  “They had this old jalopy they drove around in. The brakes were half busted and the tires bald. I told ‘em they ought to dump the damn thing but they wouldn’t listen. They were saving money so Betsy could have her baby in the hospital.” He glanced down at the infant, and though his eyes softened, his jaw was tight.

  “One day they were driving along a country road and ran into one of those gully—washer rains that come down so hard you can’t see ten feet in front of your face. They plowed into a parked big rig that hadn’t gotten all the way off the road.

  “Tommy died at the scene. I got Betsy out of the car but she was all broken up. At the hospital, they had to choose between her and the baby. Betsy made the decision. It was the most courageous—”

  His voice broke. He looked away, swiping at his face with his arm.

  Ann had been listening motionless, mesmerized by his story. She almost went to him then, to console him in his grief. Dear heaven! He’d witnessed the accident and tried to rescue hi
s friends.

  But she wasn’t sure of the reception she’d get. Reed wasn’t a man who was used to showing his emotions. She suspected he’d be embarrassed if she made any special note of them. And her own feelings were so on edge, she was near tears herself. Her heart ached for Betsy and Tommy, Reed, too, and little Betina.

  “Betsy wanted me to raise her baby,” he said, his voice low and taut when he’d brought himself back under control. His eyes glistened. “That’s what I intend to do—one way or another.”

  Ann didn’t doubt his resolve for a moment. If need be, he’d run off with the baby and raise her on the road as his own. “But marriage. That’s such a drastic step. Isn’t there any other way?”

  “Dammit, don’t you think I’ve racked my brain trying to come up with something else that makes sense?” Almost desperately, he scooped up the infant and crossed the room to Ann. The front door was still open and a slight breeze ruffled the baby’s hair. “Look at her, sugar. Hold her and then tell me you wouldn’t do anything in the world to keep her if you were in my shoes.”

  “My hands are dirty. I can’t—”

  “Bets won’t mind.”

  He thrust the baby into Ann’s arms.

  Her emotions were like quicksilver as the infant snuggled close and rooted against her breast. It was as if Reed had given her back the child she had lost. Her heart ached, and she had difficulty drawing a breath. Stroking Betina’s soft cap of hair, Ann looked at her through a veil from the past.

  How many years, how much grief had she’d tried to bury amid her own broken dreams?

  Was it possible that this time she could have it all, the hot sultry passion she’d felt so explosively when she was with Reed? And motherhood, too? Could she accept his proposition without his love? And then only temporarily. How would she ever be able to walk away without losing her heart both to the man and to this precious little baby?