Home on the Ranch: Unexpected Daddy

by Pamela Britton

  It wasn’t one of her official questions, but it had tumbled off her lips without thought. He didn’t answer immediately, instead turning to stare out over the back of his property. She saw grooves in the corners of his eyes.

  “To be honest, it’s going to freak everyone out. I know it will. I mean, you saw my brother’s reaction. He probably thinks I have an illegitimate child or something when nothing could be further from the truth.” He shook his head. “My dad’s the one who will really lose his mind. He’s been itching to retire for the past year, and now that I’ll have Olivia, he’s going to think I can’t manage the ranch all on my own, but I won’t be on my own. Flynn can help and so can my other brothers. I’ll just have to convince him it can be done.”

  Because he wanted to make it work. She could see that in his eyes. He might be terrified of becoming an instant father, but now that he’d made the decision to temporarily take Olivia under his wing, he was committed to the task, no matter the sacrifices he would have to make or the problems it might generate. The realization made her stomach do something weird, made her look away again and wonder how it was that a man like him wasn’t already married.

  “Are there any lakes or ponds on the property or anything like that?”

  Back to official questions, although as a change of subject it was abrupt. She didn’t care. Her thoughts were so out of character. She felt like she’d just come off a ride at a carnival. Her head spun.

  “There is up the road a bit, but it’s fenced off. No way for a child to get to it.”

  “Will it be okay if I confirm that, and if we talk to some of your family members? Not right this minute, but soon. I’m only approving you for emergency placement, but that still means we’ll need character references, and to check your financials and assess family members. Will that be okay?”

  “Sure. Just understand my brothers are all characters, especially Carson. Not a serious bone in that man’s body.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She focused on the next series of questions, and she could tell Maverick would pass the prescreening with flying colors. The man had it all. Nice home. Good income. Large family to help take up the slack. All in all, they’d been lucky.

  “What about you?”

  She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t even heard his question. “Pardon me?”

  “What about your family? What do they think of your career choice?”

  She grappled to come up with a suitable retort. She was not comfortable with personal questions, especially coming from a man like Maverick.

  A man like Maverick? What did that mean?

  “Oh, I don’t have any family, but we don’t need to talk about my personal life.”

  He leaned toward her and it was all she could do not to lean back. “Why not? You’ve grilled me. It’s only fair that I learn a little more about you.”

  Was he flirting with her? No. But he seemed genuinely curious. She didn’t know how to react, wasn’t used to men questioning her. She made sure to dress in a way and act in a way that was guaranteed to help her go unnoticed. Until now.

  “Well, I mean, I just don’t like to divulge that kind of information. Professionalism and all that.”

  “You mean you don’t have any family at all?”

  “No. I do not.” She didn’t want him to pity her. She’d done well for herself, all things considered. There was nothing about her life to pity.

  “I think we’re done here.” She stood up.

  He grabbed her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  And she froze because of the feel of his fingers clasping her own, the way her whole body reacted to his touch and how she shot away. It was like the one time she’d jumped from a high dive, something she’d done on a dare from one of her foster siblings and that, in hindsight, she shouldn’t have done. It’d been too high, and she’d paid a price when she’d landed the wrong way and her skin had slapped the water and left welts. But before that, right after she’d stepped off the diving platform and been falling through the air, it had been unlike anything she’d felt before...until now.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You startled me.”

  He stood, and suddenly they were inches apart. “No, I’m the one that’s sorry.”

  Oh, dear. There it was. That look again. He’d clearly gleaned her one weakness. She had a hang-up about being touched—with good reason.

  “Thank you for being so candid in your responses, Maverick. I honestly don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be approved for emergency foster care placement.”

  He stared down at her for a long moment, and she hated that it was hard to hold his gaze and that all she noticed was the spectacular color of his eyes and the way his five-o’clock shadow seemed thicker along his jaw.

  “So, does that mean I get Olivia?”

  Deep breath. No, not too deep. The smell of him did something to her, too.

  “Pending your background check, yes.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  He didn’t look surprised or even scared. Just... determined.

  “Well, all right, then. I’ll go out and buy a crib and some other supplies.”

  She took a step back. Distance. That was what she needed. And after tomorrow, she’d be done with him.

  Thank goodness.

  “And I’ll email you a list of things you should probably pick up in addition to the checklist I gave you.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  One more day. That was all she had to spend in his disturbing presence. Thank the good Lord.

  Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 5

  He’d sure ruffled her feathers, Maverick thought as he watched her drive away, Sadie sitting by his side. Hadn’t meant to upset her. Hadn’t meant to touch her. He’d just been sitting there answering her questions and wondering about the occasional glimpses of...something he’d seen in her eyes.

  “She’s an odd one, isn’t she, Sadie?”

  Sadie looked up at him, her blue eyes so bright with curiosity he knew she tried to figure out if any one of the words he’d said had something to do with her favorite things in life—like food, truck rides and the occasional belly scratch. She rested her head again when she realized it didn’t.

  “Come on,” he said, feeling sorry for her. “I’ll go pour you another bowl of kibble, and then we need to go shopping, and I should probably stop by my dad’s place afterward and break the news.”

  Still, knowing he had to tell his family and actually doing it were two different things. As he drove away from a big-box store later that evening—the back of his pickup stuffed with supplies for Becca’s daughter—it felt like he had the stomach flu. The whole time he’d been shopping he’d wondered if he was crazy. Sometimes the answer came back yes. And if he thought that, he could only imagine what his dad would think.

  The drive back to the ranch seemed to pass all too quickly. Usually the rolling hills and green pastures soothed him when troubled, but the closer he got to the heart of Gillian Ranch, the more nervous he became. He felt like hiding in the vineyard, losing himself in the acres and acres of grapes like he’d done when he was a kid. Instead he passed the Spanish-style stables to his right, ignoring the turn to his place and pointing his truck up the big hill and toward the single-story home that belonged to his dad. The Gillian family home. The back of it overlooked the valley below. His dad had built a terrace held in place by stone archways that had become a gathering spot for the whole family on Sundays. No extra cars were parked out front. That, at least, was a blessing.

  “Come on,” he said after opening his door so that Sadie could jump out. She knew the drill, heading off to the covered porch in the front. “Stay.”

&n
bsp; The ranch had been part of a Spanish land grant years ago. His dad’s place sat in the same spot as the original family homestead, and the brick arches along the front and back, terra-cotta roof and heavy oak door echoed themes from the past.

  “What are you doing here?”

  His dad peeked his head around a corner to his right. He’d been in the kitchen, judging by the glass of what Maverick would guess was iced tea in his hand. His dad still wore his work hat—a straw Resistol that Maverick’s mom had bought him what seemed like a million years ago—his bushy gray brows lifted in question.

  “Something wrong?”

  Maverick snatched off his own hat, hanging it on a peg near the door. His hands shook as he used both hands to smooth back his hair, inhaling a deep breath. His boots echoed on the terra-cotta floor as he headed straight for one of the bar stools that sat beneath a raised countertop. How many times had he sat right here and discussed things that troubled him with his mom? Man, he missed that.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  His dad went around to the other side of the counter, waiting. That was the thing with his dad. He was the quiet type. Half the time it was impossible to know what he was thinking. Just when you thought you’d gone and made him mad, he’d crack a joke or reassure you with a pat on the back. Hard to read. That was what his mom used to say.

  “What’s the matter, son?”

  The quiet reassurance in his eyes was a new look for him. The past few years had changed him. He was more laid-back nowadays, and Maverick wondered if it had anything to do with his brothers and sister getting married.

  “Well, Dad, I don’t know any other way to say this other than to just spit it out.” He took another deep breath. “I’ve decided to become a foster parent.”

  His dad just about dropped the glass he held. It made contact with the granite countertop as if his grip had slipped. Maverick wondered if he’d cracked the glass.

  “Temporarily,” Maverick hastened to add. “It’s Becca’s daughter, Olivia. She died, Becca did, and I—”

  “Wait,” his dad interrupted. “Becca died? Your childhood friend? That Becca?”

  He nodded, and the finality of her loss hit him hard enough that he couldn’t breathe for a moment. He hadn’t let himself think about it...about her...about how she’d died. About how he’d actually lost her twice now, the first time when they were both freshmen in high school—she’d gotten involved with the wrong crowd and he’d had to distance himself—and then now. But this “now” was permanent, and it struck him like a linebacker to the gut.

  “What happened?” his dad asked.

  “Drugs.”

  “Drugs?” his dad echoed in disbelief.

  His dad hadn’t known about Becca’s problems. Maverick supposed he hadn’t wanted him to know, hadn’t wanted his dad to lose respect for her because once that happened there was no going back as far as his dad was concerned. He was that kind of man. Do the wrong thing and he’d write you off. So, Maverick had kept quiet. Still loyal to her even after all these years—only look how it’d all ended up.

  “She died and she left behind a little girl.” He had to ball his fists to help him keep his cool. He needed to hold it together right now. To explain.

  “Olivia’s the little girl’s name and she’s an orphan, Dad, and so they called me because for some reason Becca put me down as the father, only I’m not.”

  He squared his shoulders and looked his dad square in the eyes. “I’ll be taking a DNA test to prove it. I never had a thing to do with Becca, not since we started high school, so don’t look at me that way.”

  His dad pressed his hands against the countertop, his knuckles blanching from the weight of his body, and his dad knew him well enough to know he told the truth.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do? Taking in a child. Son, that’s a big responsibility. You know you don’t have to take care of her just because of a name on a birth certificate, don’t you?”

  He wasn’t surprised his dad tried to talk him out of it. “I know that, Dad. I want to do this. I volunteered, actually.”

  His dad eyed him in such a way that it felt like Maverick’s skin was being peeled apart layer by layer. It was clear his dad wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he didn’t say anything, and Maverick realized his dad was waiting for him to explain himself further.

  “Becca was my friend, Dad. A good friend. I let her down. Not once, but twice. I saw her two years ago. She was in terrible shape, and I could have helped then. If I’d been any kind of true friend, I would have helped her a lot, but I didn’t. She even tried to call me after. I refused to take her calls.

  “I think she put my name on that birth certificate because deep down inside she knew how it would all turn out, knew she was in too deep, and that I could be counted on to make sure her little girl ended up with the right kind of family.” He took a deep breath. “And so I’ve applied to become an emergency foster parent while the courts work through that process. Olivia will be here tomorrow.”

  His dad never looked away from him, and he could see tension fade away from his face as the realization dawned that Maverick was really going to do this and that there was nothing he could say to dissuade him. He turned away from the counter, going to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle with amber-colored liquor inside. He poured himself a finger width, then tossed it down.

  “Want one?” he asked, his voice raspy from the burn of the whiskey.

  “No, thanks.” The most he ever drank was an occasional beer. That was what he’d been doing the last time he’d seen Becca, downing one at the Silver Spur after a long day moving cattle. She’d come up to him and at first he hadn’t even recognized her. She’d gotten so skinny. Her once beautiful hair had hung in limp disarray around her gaunt face. She’d looked like someone who’d come in off the streets.

  “Son, I can’t say I think this is a good idea. The chaos this will cause in your life isn’t something to be taken lightly, but I’m proud of you for stepping up to the plate.” His dad lowered his head and looked up at him through his eyebrows. He had a habit of doing that when a conversation turned serious. “But I do have some questions, like who’s going to watch her while you’re working?”

  He scratched his head. “I figure I’ll ask Aunt Crystal. She used to watch Paisley all the time for Jayden. I’m sure she won’t mind watching Olivia.”

  “Yeah, but Paisley is Crystal’s niece—well, great-niece. This child isn’t even family. And what about those days when Olivia is sick or has a doctor’s appointment or whatever?”

  “It’s temporary, Dad. I doubt I’ll have her all that long, but if something comes up, Flynn can step in and help with the ranching operations. Or Carson, if he’s around. He might be focusing more on his construction and furniture business, but he can still help.”

  Another long stare. “Times like these I wonder what your mom would think.”

  “Me, too.”

  “This sounds like something she would do. She was always taking in stray animals and volunteering her time. She’d be proud of you, too.”

  He missed her like hell. They’d been close, the two of them. Truth be told, part of why he’d been so committed to Gillian Ranch was because he knew that was what she would have wanted. She would have loved to help out with Olivia. Heck, she probably would have offered to take the little girl in.

  “I just hope you know I’m not the little girl’s father.”

  “I know that,” his dad said. “One thing you’re not is a liar. Except when you were younger and you left that gate open. Your aunt wrung the truth out of you. Do you remember that?”

  “I do,” he said with a half smile. “First and last time I ever lied.”

  “Well then, I guess I’m out of questions. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into.”

  “I do. But
I’m not going to lie—I’m scared to death. But I know it’s the right thing to do. Helping a kid out in need. I’m in a perfect position to do that. I’m self-employed. I have plenty of family to lend a hand. I have a big house. I can take care of her for as long as they need me to.”

  “And what if it’s longer than just a few weeks?”

  “Then I’ll find someone to help me take care of her. You’ll see. I’ll be fine.”

  He hoped.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Charlotte asked Maverick the next day, catching the scent of him and immediately blushing for some strange reason. “It’s a pretty big deal.”

  He didn’t look any more reassured today than he had yesterday. She could see the worry in his eyes, but his gaze sharpened for a moment.

  “Does that mean I’ve been approved?”

  She tried to ignore the musky smell of him. He’d rested his cowboy hat on his right knee, and his hair seemed to be more mussed than yesterday.

  “Yup. You’ve been approved. Background check came back this morning. You’re all good.”

  He leaned back in his chair, and she wasn’t sure if it was in relief or so he could muster up some strength to face the coming day. “So, she’ll be living with me as of today?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  His head lowered, staring at the ground, and she could tell the suddenness of it all surprised him. She slipped out of her chair without really even thinking about it, resting a hip on her desk and crossing her arms.

  “You’re going to be fine.” If she’d been like a normal person, she might have patted him on the shoulder in reassurance, but talking to him was the best she could do. “You might be surprised how well new parents adapt to taking care of a child. And you said yourself you’ll have help. You’ll see. It’ll be okay.”

  “When?” She saw him take a deep breath before sitting back in the chair again. The pupils in his light blue eyes contracted. “I mean, do I pick her up from here? Or go get her?”

  “I’ll bring her to you.” He seemed relieved. “I need to go over car seats and dietary requirements and things like that. You’ll see us both later on today. Should we say four again? That gives you some time to prepare.”