Aurora's Cowboy Daddy (Rescue Ranch)

by Melinda Barron

  “Good.” She laughed a little. “Then we baked.”

  “Bring me one,” he said.

  She hopped up from the couch, took a cookie from under the plastic wrap, and brought it back to him. He took a bite and murmured in appreciation.

  “I wish I could claim the credit,” she said. “Becky and the kids took the lead.”

  He finished his cookie, then kissed her cheek. “Delicious. Now, let’s warm up the fries and burgers and eat.”

  When the food was in the oven, Aurora set the table, then they both sat down on the sofa.

  “So what’s my punishment?” she asked.

  “Well, you did it for a good reason, so it can’t be that harsh,” he said. “I think it means that tomorrow you have to write the phrase a thousand times.”

  “A thousand? That will take all day, if not longer.” She thought for a moment. “Becky has a meeting with her attorney tomorrow. She wants to know if she can bring him out here, or meet him in town.”

  “Neither,” Holt said. “Wyatt will drive her into Amarillo to meet him. The meeting is set in the afternoon. She called me this afternoon to ask.”

  Because I didn’t know the answer, Aurora thought. She didn’t say it, but it reinforced what she’d been thinking. She needed to learn more about her job. “There needs to be a manual or something so I know the answer to those things.”

  “We have a babysitter coming out to stay with the kids, so you’ll have the day off, unless we get a new client tonight.”

  “Okay.” She picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No.” She flicked through the channels

  “Liar.” He grabbed the remote from her, flicked off the TV and said, “Spill.”

  Aurora kept her mouth shut. She stared at the blank TV as disgust built inside her.

  “Spill, or stand in the corner,” he said.

  Without saying a word, Aurora got up and went to the corner. She stood there, staring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Not a chance.” Within seconds he was standing in front of her. He twirled his finger at her and she understood immediately. She turned her face to the wall. “Nose against it.” Once again she followed his instructions.

  “If you’re going to throw a temper tantrum you’ll be punished for it.” He put his hands on her shoulders, then let them go. For a moment she thought he was going to smack her, either her back or ass, or head. But he didn’t. She heard him move, and she imagined him sitting on the couch.

  “Temper tantrum?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry, if you want to join the conversation you need to use more than two words.”

  Oh she wanted to scream. She counted to ten, and then she turned around.

  “Face the wall,” he said.

  “No.” She glared at him. “What makes you think I’m throwing a temper tantrum?” Without waiting for an answer she picked up a throw pillow from a nearby chair and threw it in his direction. He put up his arms to deflect it, and it flew sideways and hit a lamp. He grabbed the lamp before it fell.

  “Keep your bratty behavior in check,” he said.

  “If I’m going to be accused of something I ought to do it.” She picked up another pillow, but before she could throw it he was on her. He ripped it from her hand and tossed it aside.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  She wanted to stay silent, because when she’d let her feelings out in the past it had done her no good. “I can’t even answer a client’s questions. You have to do it.”

  “That’s our job,” he said. “Your job is to talk with her and make sure she has everything she needs.”

  “But I did talk with her, and I couldn’t answer her question.” They were face to face now, and her chest rose and fell in agitation. “That makes me feel—worthless.”

  Oh she shouldn’t have said that. The look on his face said he was pissed, and she was going to pay the price. He took her hand and started toward the bathroom, pulling her along behind him. When they got there he shut the door behind them and locked it. He scooped up the container of soap, squirted some on his finger and held it out. “Open your mouth.”

  “Oh no.” She turned to the door in an effort to leave, but he grabbed her from behind and ran his finger over her lips. She couldn’t help but press them together when he pulled his finger away, and the taste of soap assailed her mouth.

  “Yuck!” She pushed away from him and turned to the sink. She turned on the water and splashed it onto her mouth, which only made the matter worse. She spit out the soapy mess and tried to hack up as much as possible.

  “Naughty little girls who degrade themselves get their mouths washed out with soap,” he said. “If you continue to do it you should buy a bar of soap. I think it would be easier to handle than its liquid counterpart.”

  “You can’t treat me like this!”

  “Aurora, listen to me.” He pushed her back against the door. She could still taste soap in her mouth and it made her angry. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman who wants to live in the past. You had a very rough patch. That really doesn’t even begin to cover what you’ve been through. But I won’t allow you to debase yourself. If you do so I will continue to punish you. The soap is just the first part.”

  She didn’t want to think what the second part would be. Tears welled in her eyes and she turned her face away. “I can’t even bake cookies on my own.”

  “Then change that,” he said. “I want to be with you. I want you to grow. I want to grow with you. I hope you want the same thing. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Please.”

  Without waiting for an answer he kissed her, and then he pulled back and said, “Gross, soap.”

  Aurora couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter so loud that it echoed in the small space. To her surprise he laughed too, and then he kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up so that they were face to face, her legs dangling off the ground. After the third kiss he put her down and they both washed out their mouths, laughing with each other.

  “I’ve changed my mind about your punishment,” he said.

  “Good.” She put her head on his chest.

  “I want you to write words that describe your attributes, things that make you unique. At least a hundred of them.”

  “A hundred?”

  He tipped her face up to him, his fingers under her chin. “Shall I say two hundred?”

  “No, a hundred,” she said, smiling. She kissed him again, and again, and again. When his hands roamed over her sides and up to her breasts she moaned and leaned into him. She loved the feel of him against her. Her body was a little sore from their love making episodes, but she knew it would get better. Would he want to have sex with her tonight? If so she needed to think about caressing him the way he was doing with her right now.

  It would be perfect. At least she hoped it would. She kissed him, and then she sniffed. “Is something burning?”

  Seconds later they were both standing at the oven. Smoke seeped out of the top, and when he opened the door it billowed out, and the smoke alarm went off. Aurora rushed to open the door and when she came back inside, Holt had pulled the alarm off the wall.

  “I guess I turned the oven up too high, and we got distracted.” He winked at her. “Shall we go into town for dinner? I know just the place.”

  Chapter 13

  Holt was gone when Aurora woke the next morning. He’d made coffee before he left, and it was still warm. I could get used to this, she said to herself as she doctored a cup and took it to the porch. She stopped short when she saw Molly there, fully saddled and grazing on the grass.

  “Good morning, Molly,” she said. The horse lifted her head and waved it in Aurora’s direction. She’d planned to work on her words, and then check on Becky, but it was obvious Holt had other plans for her. She went back inside and checked the table. No note. She checked the refrigerator. No note. There was no not
e in the bedroom, either. She took a fast shower and dressed, making sure to put her boots on for the ride.

  Once outside she made her way to the horse. There was a piece of paper tucked between the blanket and saddle. The words were short and sweet. “Meet me at the lake.”

  “Okay, girl, it’s just you and me.” Molly lifted her head, and then shifted so her left side was available. “Left foot up, reins in left hand, saddle horn in right, push off with right leg.” She was impressed with herself for remembering, and even more impressed that it only took her one attempt at mounting the horse. She put her feet in the stirrups and patted Molly’s neck.

  “Let’s go, girl.” A little tug on the reins and pressure on her sides and Molly started to walk. Aurora pointed her in the direction of the lake. It wasn’t a long ride, and when she saw Holt standing on the dock with a fishing pole in hand she smiled.

  “I mounted on the first attempt,” she said as she dismounted and let go of the reins.

  “Good girl!” Holt called out. “I’m proud of you. You can leave the reins hanging. She won’t wander off.”

  Ranger wandered nearby, grazing on the grass. Aurora went up on the dock, and when she was near, Holt put his arm around her neck, pulled her close and kissed her.

  “Morning, baby bear,” he said.

  “Good morning, Papa Bear,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “Slave driver,” he said with a laugh. “Fishing is best early in the morning, but I haven’t caught anything we could eat for dinner.”

  “You expect me to cook fish? Fresh fish?”

  “I’ll teach you.” He put both hands on the pole and started to reel in the line. It came up empty and he muttered something she couldn’t understand. “What’s your plan for the day?”

  “Words,” she said with a laugh.

  “What are you going to start with, baby bear?”

  Warmth spread through her and she watched as he cast his line back in the lake. She was happier right now, standing at the lake with Holt at her side than she’d ever been in her life.

  “Happy,” she said. “Does that count as an attribute?”

  He looked down at her, and the gleam in his eyes made her heart beat faster.

  “Yes, baby bear, it does.”

  “I’m thrilled I found out about your open job.”

  “Not as much as I am, Aurora.” He reeled in the empty line once more, muttered something, then cast it back into the lake. “I have another chore for you today. I need you to empty a few drawers so I can bring clothes down. I don’t want to being them down day by day.”

  “I don’t have enough to fill the drawers,” she said. “There’s room.” She had a roommate now. No, more than a roommate, a lover. A man who wanted to spend time with her, a man who cared for her. A man she cared about. “There’s room in the closet, too,” she said, hoping he recognized the subtle hint he could bring more things down.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he said, “Darling, I can use that space, too. Sounds like my wardrobe is bigger than yours. I’ll have to take you shopping soon so you can fill up your space.”

  “Sounds good.” That meant, at least to her, that he wanted her to stay, for a good, long time.

  Aurora sat on the sofa, the chalkboard balanced on her thighs. Trying to come up with words that described her was hard, especially when she was supposed to be using ones that were positive. She’d had more positive thoughts since she’d met Holt than she’d ever had in her life.

  But what made her unique? She had no physical attributes that were different than others. She tried to think of one hundred words that described her best, but she couldn’t think of even one. “That’s a pretty sad situation,” she said to the empty room.

  Would Holt be mad if she changed the punishment? A thought occurred to her, and she decided it would work. If he was unhappy with the idea she would take the punishment, whether it be standing in the corner or, heaven forbid, tasting more soap. She made a mental note to buy a bar of soap instead of having to taste the liquid, which had been pretty nasty.

  With the chalk she wrote the original words Holt had wanted her to write: I am not worthless. She wrote it again, and again, and again, and by the time the words filled the length of the board she smiled.

  She wasn’t worthless. She had been in a bad situation. It had ended badly, and she’d faced it and come out on the other side. Here at the ranch she was safe, she had Holt, and his brothers, and her new life. Stan couldn’t find her here. She was safe from him, too.

  A knock at the door made her jerk. Her hand had been hovering over the chalkboard and she made a long line across it with the chalk.

  “Come in,” she yelled out as she erased the line.

  “Good morning.” Aurora stood.

  “I’m about to leave for my meeting with my lawyer,” Becky said. “Can I give you a shopping list?”

  “Of course,” Aurora said.

  Becky set a covered plate on the table. Aurora was happy she and Becky had become friends.

  “The kids made this for you yesterday,” Becky said. “It’s a chocolate cake.”

  “Thank you,” Aurora said. “I have ice cream in the freezer that will go well with it. Did you keep some for yourselves?”

  “We made two,” she said. “The kids said one was for Miss Aurora and Mr. Holt.”

  Aurora laughed. The kids had been having fun with the pool, and Holt had told them he would take them riding soon, if their mother approved. Aurora knew Becky hadn’t made up her mind about it yet, so she didn’t push the issue.

  “Have you put the roast in the oven?” Becky asked.

  “Oh I forgot!” Aurora waved her hands in frustration. “Is it too late to start it?” She and Becky had discussed food yesterday. Aurora had bought a roast, potatoes, carrots, and onions, and had planned to cook it today to surprise Holt. Becky had told her what spices to use for the flavoring.

  “There’s plenty of time,” Becky said. “Come on, I’ll help.”

  They worked together peeling potatoes and carrots and soon the dinner was in a roasting pan and in the oven.

  “Thanks,” Aurora said, and she was somewhat shocked when Becky hugged her. It was so strange to have friends who would do that. Strange, true, but she loved the feeling. When Becky was gone, Aurora went back to the chalkboard. She wrote down the word friends. It was a unique thing for her because she’d never had friends except for Dana.

  Building on her earlier idea she started to write, and as she did the words seemed to flow out of her like water.

  When someone touched her shoulder she almost jumped out of her skin. She turned to see Holt standing there.

  “You’re early,” she said. “Hours early.”

  “I took the afternoon off,” he said. He hung his cowboy hat on the stand near the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went back out the door and came in with a few bags from the grocery store.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “No-bake cookies,” he said. He sat down at the table and put his boots on the chair across from him. “Show me your skills, baby bear.”

  “But Papa Bear, the oven is in use,” she said. To back up her words she bent down and peered inside, even though she’d just put the pan in the oven.

  “Did you not hear the words ‘no-bake’?” He tapped on the cookbook, which was on the table. “Every ingredient you need is in the bags. Find the recipe in the cookbook and make them. You have forty-five minutes.”

  “That’s not enough time!”

  He pulled out his phone and tapped a few keys. “You better get cracking.” He held up the phone and she saw the timer counting down.

  Where should she start? She took the bags he’d brought in and upended them onto the table. There was milk, butter, sugar, cocoa power, oatmeal, vanilla extract, and salt. She memorized what was on the table and opened the cookbook. Under the cookies header she found several recipes, but nothing that ne
eded all the ingredients she had. There was something missing, or there were too many. She went back to the index and found no-bake cookies. But she was missing peanut butter.

  She searched several more recipes, then decided the one with the peanut butter was the only thing that fit what he wanted. She grabbed the bags and shook them. They were empty. Then she got down on the floor and looked around. The jar of peanut butter had rolled under the table. She grabbed it and set it next to the other ingredients.

  As fast as she could she grabbed a bowl and measuring utensils. She glanced at the recipe. It said the prep time was five minutes, and the cooling time was thirty. One glance at Holt, who shook his head, showed her that she wasn’t going to make her deadline.

  But she kept mixing, and then placing drops of the mixture onto cookie sheets, which she put in the refrigerator.

  “You panicked and you missed the deadline,” he said. “Which means you face the consequences.”

  During the last few days he’d mentioned spanking her as a punishment, which she wasn’t very thrilled about. She pointed to the fridge. “They’re cooling. That should count for something.”

  Holt shrugged. He got up and picked up the jar of peanut butter, then got a spoon out of the drawer. He sat back in his chair, stuck the spoon in the jar and pulled out a huge dollop of the sticky food. After he set the jar on the table, he turned it toward her, put one finger on the spoon while the other was on the handle, and launched the peanut butter at her. She was so shocked she didn’t move, and the creamy mess hit her square in the face.

  “You did not just do that!”

  In answer he quickly did it again, this time the projectile hit her in the hair. Aurora launched herself at him. She grabbed the jar before he could, but instead of reaching for a spoon she stuck her hand inside, pulled out a glob, and smeared it on his face.

  “That’s going to cost you.” He grabbed the tin of cocoa and shook it at her. The heavy powder flew out and when it mixed with the peanut butter it stuck to her face and hair.

  Aurora tried to grab it from his hands, but he held tight. Then, before she thought about what she was doing, she went to the refrigerator, took out two eggs, and threw them at him. They hit him square in the chest, and to her delight his mouth opened in shock, and then he laughed.