Home on the Ranch: Unexpected Daddy

by Pamela Britton

  “Sounds great.” He stood up and they were suddenly inches away, his hat held in front of him, though he played with it as he faced her. “Thank you.”

  He held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment before grasping it, and it was like diving off that board again. What sounded like wind rushed through her ears. She froze and for a moment battled complete panic. Then he released her, stepped away and walked out of her office, and she knew he hadn’t felt a damn thing. He was just a man, one who’d been compelled to take in a friend’s little girl. He wasn’t Rodney. He didn’t hurt people. And he sure as hell didn’t want to do what Rodney had done to her. That was a good thing.

  She turned as he left the building, watching him from her office window. She might be damaged by her past, but she could still recognize a good man. This man was kind. And bighearted. A regular stand-up person.

  Unlike Rodney. Or her foster father who’d turned a blind eye to everything.

  Enough, she told herself. She refused to spend another millisecond thinking about either of them.

  She turned back to her desk. But the memory of Maverick Gillian was seared into her mind, like an image stained the back of someone’s lids after they closed their eyes. What would it be like to date a man? she wondered. To be kissed by one. Heck, to have one touch her tenderly.

  Ridiculous, she thought, tapping the space bar of her keyboard a little too hard. Thank goodness she’d be done with him by the end of the day. Then she’d never have to see him again.

  The man was entirely too disturbing for her peace of mind.

  Chapter 6

  The place was beautiful.

  Charlotte had known that, of course, but it struck her again as she drove through the entrance, a rock wall made of earth-toned stones on either side of the road. It seemed to go on and on for miles, rolling green hills on either side of the road, cattle grazing here and there. And then the hills parted and a vineyard covered the valley in front of her, spreading north and south, a Spanish-style barn with a red tile roof to her right, homes up on the hills behind it. The unbelievable majesty of the place took her breath away.

  “You’re a lucky little girl,” she told the toddler in the back seat. Olivia shook the toy she’d been given before their ride, the plastic keys clacking together. She’d been fascinated by it ever since Charlotte had handed it to her, and Charlotte had a feeling she knew why. There hadn’t been a single toy in Rebecca’s apartment, not even a teething ring. Just empty bottles and cans of formula and a pile of soiled diapers. And the sad thing was, it wasn’t even the first time Charlotte had seen something like that.

  “Almost there.” She pointed her compact car past the swanky stables. She had no idea why she was narrating her journey. Well, maybe she did.

  Nerves.

  It felt good to talk to someone, even if that someone was a toddler. Glancing into the rearview mirror and seeing that sweet face made her remember she had a job to do, an important job, a job that had gotten her through some of the darkest moments of her life.

  He was on the front porch when she arrived, and she wondered if Maverick could tell she’d been approaching from the dust trail her car left behind. She couldn’t deny her heart began to pound. Hard to ignore how hard her pulse tapped the side of her neck. But she was always a little nervous when she handed off a child to temporary foster care. One never knew how it would go. She’d even had one young couple change their minds the moment she’d pulled up.

  “Sadie, stay,” she heard him tell his dog when she opened the door. The black-and-white border collie lay down obediently on the porch, but she stared at the car intently.

  “You made it,” he said. He smiled, but it was forced, and despite her own discomfort, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. He had to be nervous. She had yet to meet a new foster parent who wasn’t.

  “Come on over.” She waved him over, slipping outside so she could get Olivia out of the car. “I’ll show you how to work a car seat.”

  Just focus on your job, she told herself.

  Olivia’s head turned toward her, but there was no smile, no look of curiosity. She wore the look of a child who didn’t know how to interact with human beings. She should be talking now or at least uttering a few words, but Jane said she hadn’t spoken a word. At least she looked better. Her hair was clean, although it hung limply, dull and lifeless—the product of poor nutrition. She wore a pink shirt and a pair of jeans that were too big on her.

  “Hey there, baby girl.” She smiled down at the toddler whose big gray eyes peered up at her warily. What had the poor little girl endured? It was a question that haunted her. But then Olivia’s gaze slipped past her, landing on Maverick. The look of wariness changed to one of curiosity, which made Charlotte think men had been an oddity in Olivia’s young life. That, at least, was a blessing because there were some men in the world—

  She cut off the thought.

  “This is Maverick,” she told the little girl. “You remember meeting Maverick, don’t you?”

  The gray eyes flicked back to her own. Charlotte smiled, motioning for Maverick to move in closer.

  “So, most car seats have a central button for parents to push. And from there it’s easy to slip the shoulder belts over her. Like this.” She demonstrated. “You bought the car seat that was recommended on our list, right?”

  “I did.”

  “Good. Then yours will be just like this. Super easy to use. When you take her someplace, just make sure the seat is secured to your truck’s seat belt system like this.” She pointed. “Then slip the belts over her shoulders and hook them together in this plastic thing here.”

  He’d crouched down next to her and it was like an invisible force field touched her. She had to resist the urge to shy away.

  “And when you want to take her out, you unclip the plastic thing first. Then you slip the straps over her shoulders.” She gently tugged the child’s thin arms through the nylon straps. Poor thing really was half-starved. “Then reach behind her and pull her up and out, but be careful of her head. If you’re not careful you can hit it on a doorjamb. Here. You do it.”

  He stared between her and Olivia like she’d just asked him to recite the alphabet backward. “Right now?”

  She found herself on the verge of smiling, which struck her as odd given how nervous he made her feel. “You’re going to have to do it sooner or later.”

  He nodded and inched closer, his big hands reaching for Olivia, a slight smile on his face. “Okay, kiddo, guess this is it. You and me from here on out.”

  She liked him.

  And it wasn’t the same kind of like that she’d felt for other men in her past—the foster dads and coworkers and study buddies back in college. It was some kind of extreme form of admiration for a man who had been thrust into a difficult situation and made the best of it. He might be scared to death—and nothing demonstrated that better than the way he tenderly lifted Olivia out of her car seat, like she was precious glass—but still managed to smile at the little girl, perching her on his hip in a way that bespoke a familiarity with kids.

  “There,” he said. His five-o’clock shadow had turned into full-on stubble, and she wondered if he’d forgotten to shave with everything that’d been going on in his life. “Ready to see the place you’re going to call home for a little while?”

  Olivia stared up at him, and the expression on her face could only be called studious as she examined the new human in her life. She leaned back a bit, ostensibly to get a better view, and when she spotted the short hairs on Maverick’s face, she lifted a hand and touched him tentatively, her eyes widening when her fingers made contact with the stubble.

  Adorable.

  If she’d been the kind of woman to go all soft when a man was kind to children, she would have melted on the spot right then. But she wasn’t that kind of woman. She was the kind who would never le
t herself feel anything about them.

  Maverick smiled. “Does that tickle your fingers?”

  The little girl drew her hand away, and Maverick turned and beamed at Charlotte next.

  “She’s so cute.”

  She’s an orphan. A little girl who’s just like me. Except she realized in that moment that Olivia had landed in a home as different from the one she’d grown up in as earth was to the heavens, at least temporarily. It made her wish with all her heart that she could convince Maverick to keep the little girl in his care. If she could do that, Olivia would never want for anything in her life. She would never know fear. She would never blame herself for things that happened in her past, things that it might take years for her to understand weren’t her fault. Never be afraid of men. Never long for things she couldn’t have.

  If only...

  But what if she could convince him? Wouldn’t that be a small miracle. And that was exactly why she’d gotten into this frustrating, sometimes terrible, sometimes incredibly rewarding business. To do right by the kids who came into her care.

  She squared her shoulders, deciding right there and then that she would do everything in her power to convince Maverick to take Olivia on as a permanent foster child. And if that meant spending more time in his company then so be it. She would just have to get over the crazy way he made her feel.

  * * *

  She had the strangest expression on her face, Maverick thought, wondering about it before turning back to the little girl in his arms. Olivia was lighter than he’d expected. Of course, he was used to his brother’s kids. Twins. Both of them taking after the Gillian side of the family, which meant big for their age.

  “Come on, Olivia. Let’s get you inside.”

  He glanced back at Charlotte, but she’d turned away, reaching for something in her car, emerging with her purse and a folder, a professional smile. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling she’d had to wrestle with herself over something.

  “Go on in. I’ll follow,” she said.

  Olivia never took her eyes off him, and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a twinge of fear as he carried her inside. This was it. There was no turning back. Not now. Sure, he could always claim it was all too much, that he wasn’t suited for foster parenting. But he wouldn’t. When he made a commitment to do something he always saw it through.

  “Sadie, stay outside,” he told the dog, smiling when he spotted the dog’s forlorn expression. “You’ll get to meet our guest later on,” he promised, leaving the door open so Charlotte could follow. He redirected his smile to Olivia. “These are your new digs.”

  At least until Charlotte could sort out permanent placement. Surely that wouldn’t take long. He’d always heard about young couples who couldn’t have kids. Olivia would be a godsend to someone.

  “Did you get that baby swing?” Charlotte asked, trying to close the front door, but Sadie tried to slip inside. “No,” she told the dog.

  “Sadie. Outside.”

  The dog shot him a look that seemed to say, You don’t really mean that, right?

  “Out,” he repeated.

  “Wow,” Charlotte said. “She really listens.”

  “She’s a good dog. Loves kids. Not sure what she’ll think about having one living here all the time, but she’ll get used to it. And, yes, I got that swing. I think I got everything on your list.”

  He wasn’t kidding. If it wasn’t already unpacked, it was sitting in a box in Olivia’s room.

  Olivia’s room.

  His stomach kicked again. The thought of putting the little girl to bed, when there’d be nobody around to guide him, filled him with fear. Maybe he could ask Aunt Crystal to stay the night. Or perhaps one of his siblings wouldn’t mind helping.

  “Should I put her in it now?”

  Charlotte nodded, following him into the kitchen to their right, where he’d set up the swing because that was where he’d seen a similar device in his brother’s home.

  “Like this, yes?” he asked her, slipping Olivia into the cloth seat. He’d watched his brother do the same thing, but he’d never truly appreciated just how hard it was to fish a little girl’s wiggling legs through the tiny holes, especially when she started to kick.

  “Whoa there, honey,” he told her. “You’re like a steer avoiding a heel rope.”

  “Let me help.”

  He heard her place her purse and folder on the table, and then she was by his side, her scent filling the air as she leaned down next to him, grinning at the little girl.

  “It works best if you just sort of sit her down. Their legs seem to naturally find the holes.”

  She took Olivia from him, demonstrating, her head lowering until she was nearly nose to nose with the baby. “Like this,” she said in a singsong voice. “Now let me strap you in.”

  It was like looking at a painting in a mirror, seeing things in reverse, the unique perspective of being so close to Charlotte allowing him to see the fine details of her face. The way the creases at the corners of her eyes softened as she stared down at Olivia. How her lips were a soft shade of red that he was pretty sure was natural because she didn’t strike him as the type to use makeup. And how she went from no-nonsense and businesslike to slow and gentle, her hand lifting away from the safety belt to gently brush Olivia’s hair. The child looked up at her, and the sides of her mouth tipped up.

  “Do you see that?” Charlotte gushed. “She smiled.”

  “She did.”

  They were both smiling, and for some reason it made Maverick gulp and then draw back. Some crazy thoughts were swirling through his head, and he didn’t want to examine them too closely because they made him feel like the lowest sort of life form. Why the heck was he having thoughts about a CPS worker? She was totally not his type. He usually favored the rancher’s-daughter type, not a city girl who didn’t know the first thing about life in the country.

  And yet...

  “I can’t believe she smiled,” she said, straightening. “That’s the first grin I’ve seen from you, huh, Little Miss Olivia?”

  He went to his fridge, pulled out a plastic jug of iced tea, set it on the kitchen’s center island and poured himself a big glass. She loved kids. So what? Lots of women loved kids. He hoped to settle down with a woman like that, but not for a long while, and not with someone like Charlotte, a woman who was obviously married to her job. It’d just surprised him how different she looked when completely relaxed and happy. That was all.

  “I’ll take a glass of that, if you don’t mind.” She leaned against the counter in such a way that she could keep her gaze on Olivia. The little girl had discovered the plastic balls that lined the front of the swing, her eyes widening when she touched one of them and spun it accidentally.

  “Has she talked at all?”

  And just like that, the light went out of her eyes. “Not a word.” She shook her head. “Jane said she tried playing with her this morning, and she acted like she didn’t know what to do.”

  He leaned against the counter, too, noting the differences between Olivia and his brother’s kids. Granted, they were a bit older, but he still remembered what they’d been like. Noisy. Into everything. Constantly moving. Olivia acted more like a frightened puppy, one afraid of being scolded, and the sad truth was that she probably was terrified.

  “Breaks your heart, doesn’t it?”

  He turned to find Charlotte looking at him, and he saw a sadness in her brown eyes, one undoubtedly echoed in his own. Yes, she loved kids, but she hated this part of her job, he realized. The part that broke your heart and tore it apart, because Olivia was so little and no child deserved a life like she’d had. That it was Becca who’d done this to her made Maverick sick.

  He found himself thinking out loud. “I bet you’ve seen it all over the years.”

  She nodded once. “I have.”

 
“You’re the director of Via Del Caballo CPS, aren’t you?”

  She tipped her chin up. “I am.”

  “I can’t imagine having to deal with situations like Olivia’s day after day.”

  Her gaze skittered away, like a creature that tried to hide. “It’s a tough deal sometimes.”

  But he’d seen something in her eyes before she’d turned away, a something that made him think her answer was more personal than she was letting on. He found himself wondering just how deeply her job must affect her. He couldn’t even imagine.

  “Well, I’ll make sure Olivia never wants for anything, at least while she’s with me.”

  Her gaze shot back to his. “I believe you.”

  Her words were said softly, her eyes so large and dark that they reminded him of melted chocolate. And from nowhere came the thought that he wished his mom was alive to meet her and Olivia. She would have approved of Charlotte and her selflessness.

  He straightened, for some reason finding it hard to speak over a lump in his throat. “You want to take me through meals and such?”

  She took a sip of her drink before nodding. “Sure,” she said and then set the glass down. “Jane says she seems to like pasta. I don’t suppose that was on the menu tonight?”

  “I can make her anything you think she might like.”

  “You cook?”

  “I do.”

  She smiled. “Well, that will make this a lot easier. Just avoid big chunks of food. The main thing with these guys is make sure everything is small enough to be swallowed whole because sometimes it is.”

  “Are you going to stay and eat with us, too?”

  She hadn’t really thought about it. Usually she observed a new foster parent for an hour or so, but she hadn’t planned on having dinner there.

  “I can eat later.”