Читать книгу The Rancher's Christmas Promise - Allison Leigh - Страница 11

Chapter Two

“I knew you’d be late.”

Greer ignored Ali’s greeting as she entered the stately old mansion that Maddie shared with her husband, Lincoln Swift. She kicked the heavy front door closed, blocking out the sound of Ryder’s departing truck. Passing the round table in the foyer loaded down with fancifully wrapped gifts and the grand wooden staircase, she headed into the dining room with the cake.

The sight of a cheerfully decorated sheet cake already sitting in the middle of the table shredded her last nerve.

She stared over her shoulder at Ali. Her sister looked uncommonly pretty in a bright yellow sundress. More damningly, Ali was as cool and fresh as the daisy she’d stuck in her messy ponytail. “You have a backup cake?”

“Of course I have a backup cake.” Ali waved her hands, and the big diamond rock that Grant had put on her ring finger a few months earlier glinted in the sunlight shining through the mullioned windows. “Because I knew you would be late! You’re always late, because you’re always working for that slave driver over at the dark side.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been late, if I hadn’t broken down on the way back from Weaver! Now would you move that stupid cake so I can put this one down where it belongs?”

“Girls!” Their mother, Meredith, dashed into the dining room, accompanied by the usual tinkle of tiny bells on the ankle bracelet she wore. “This is supposed to be a party.” She tsked. “You’re thirty years old and you still sound as if you’re bickering ten-year-olds.” She whisked the offending backup cake off the table. “Ali, put this in the kitchen.”

Ali took the sheet cake from their mother and crossed her eyes at Greer behind their mother’s back while Greer set Tabby’s masterpiece in its place.

“It’s just beautiful,” Meredith exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Despite her chastisement, her eyes were sparkling. “Maddie’s going to love it.” As she turned away, the dark hair she’d passed on to her daughters danced in corkscrew curls nearly to the small of her back. “It’s just too bad that Tabby wasn’t able to come to the party.”

“If Gracie weren’t running a fever, she’d have brought the cake herself.” Greer glanced around. “Obviously Ali didn’t have a problem decorating without me. It looks like the baby-shower fairy threw up in here.” The raindrop theme was in full force. Silver and white balloons hovered above the table in a cluster of “clouds” from which shimmering crystal raindrops hung down, drifting slightly in the cool room. It was sweet and subtly chic and just like Maddie. Altogether perfect, really.

As usual, Ali hadn’t really needed Greer at all.

Meredith squeezed her arm as if she’d read her mind. “Stop sweating the details, Greer. You had a hand in the planning of this, whether you were here to help pull it together this afternoon or not. Now—” she eyed Greer more closely “—what’s this about your car breaking down?”

It was a timely reminder that she probably looked as bedraggled as she felt. A glance at her watch told her the guests would be arriving in a matter of minutes. Linc was supposed to be delivering Maddie—hopefully still in the dark about the surprise—shortly after that.

“The car overheated. I left it locked up on the side of the road.”

“How’d you get here?”

She felt reluctant to say, knowing the mention of Ryder would only remind them all of how much they missed Layla. “Someone stopped and gave me a ride to town. I’ll arrange a tow after the shower.” She dashed her hand down the front of her outfit and headed for the stairs. “I need to put on something less wrinkled and sweaty. Hopefully there’s more than just maternity clothes in Maddie’s closet.” She hadn’t made it halfway up the staircase before the doorbell rang and she could hear Ali greeting the new arrivals.

She darted up the rest of the stairs.

Even after more than half a year, it was hard to get used to the fact that Maddie lived in this grand old house with Linc. The place had belonged to his and Jax’s grandmother Ernestine. When the triplets were children, Meredith had cleaned house for Ernestine. Greer and her sisters had often accompanied her. Now, Jax no longer shared the house with Linc. Maddie did.

She entered the big walk-in closet, mentally sending an apology to her brother-in-law for the intrusion. She knew that Maddie wouldn’t mind. Not surprisingly, most of the clothes hanging on the rods were designed for a woman who looked about a hundred months pregnant.

She could hear the doorbell chime again downstairs and quickly flipped through the hangers, finally pulling out a colorful dress she remembered Maddie wearing for Easter, when she’d had just a small baby bump. The dress had a stretchy waist that was a little loose on Greer, but it would do.

She changed and flipped her hair up into a clip. If there’d been blond streaks in her hair, she’d look just like Ali. Tousled and carefree.

But Greer hadn’t felt carefree in what was starting to feel like forever.

She stared at her reflection and plucked at the loose waist of the dress. Maddie was pregnant. Now Ali and Grant were married. Considering how the two couldn’t keep their hands off each other, it was only a matter of time before they were starting a family, too.

But Greer?

The last date she’d had that had gotten even remotely physical was more than two years ago, so if she wanted a baby, she was going to need either a serious miracle or big-time artificial intervention. As it was, the little birth control implant she had in her arm was pretty much pointless.

From downstairs, she heard a peal of laughter. Turning away from her reflection, she headed down to join them. She might not feel carefree, but she was thrilled about Maddie’s coming baby. So she would put on a party face for that reason alone.

And she would try to forget that Ali had gotten a damn backup cake.

* * *

Ryder stared at Doreen Pyle. “What do you mean, you’re quitting?”

“Just that, Ryder.” Mrs. Pyle continued scooping mushy green food into Layla’s mouth, even though the little girl kept twisting her head away. “When you hired me, it was to be your housekeeper. Not your nanny.”

“That’s because I had a nanny.” His voice was tight. “Look, I’m sorry that Tina took a hike this afternoon with no warning.” At least the others who’d come before her had given him some notice. “I’ll start looking again first thing tomorrow.”

“It won’t matter, Ryder. Nobody wants to live all the way out here.” She finally gave up on the green mush and glanced at him. The look in her lined eyes was more sympathetic than her tone had been. “You need to give up the idea of a live-in nanny, Ryder. Or else give up the idea of a housekeeper. You can’t afford both.”

He could, if he were willing to dip into his savings. But he wasn’t willing. Any more than he was willing to take Adelaide’s money. She’d made her way on her own, and he was doing the same. On his own. But if he were going to continue growing this small ranch, he couldn’t be carting a growing baby around everywhere while he worked. “I’ll give you another raise.” He’d already given her one. “Stay on and take care of Layla. You’re good with her. I’ll hire someone to help with the housekeeping.”

“I don’t want to live out here, either.” She pushed off her chair, wincing a little as she straightened. “The only difference between me and Tina is that I won’t take off while your back is turned.” She grabbed a cloth and started wiping up Layla’s face. The baby squirmed, trying to avoid the cloth just like she’d tried to avoid the green muck. But Mrs. Pyle prevailed and then tossed the cloth aside. “You don’t need a nanny around the clock, anyway. You’re here at night.” She lifted the baby out of the high chair. “You can take care of her yourself. Then just get some help during the day. Preferably someone who doesn’t have to drive farther than from Braden, or once the winter comes, you’re going to have problems all over again.” She plopped Layla into his arms and hustled to the sink where she wet another cloth. “But it won’t be me. I have my own family I need to look out for, too. My grandson—” She broke off, grimacing. She squeezed out the moisture and waved the rag at him. “I won’t apologize for not wanting to be tied down to a baby all over again. Not at my age.” She sounded defensive.

“I don’t need an apology, Mrs. Pyle. I need someone to take care of Layla!”

The baby lightly slapped his face with her hands and laughed.

Mrs. Pyle’s expression softened. She chucked Layla lightly under the chin. “Maybe instead of looking for a nanny, you should start looking for a mama for this little girl.”

Ryder grimaced.

“There are plenty of other fish in the sea. All you need to do is cast your line. You’re a good-looking cuss when you clean yourself up. Someone’ll come biting before you know it.”

“I don’t think so.” One foray into so-called wedded bliss was one disaster enough.

The look in Doreen’s eyes got even more sympathetic. “I know what it’s like to lose a spouse, hon. Single parents might be all the rage these days, but I’m here to tell you it’s easier when two people are committed to their family. You’re still young. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone. I’m sure your poor wife wouldn’t have wanted that, either. She’d surely want this little mite to have a proper mama. Someone who won’t toss aside caring for Layla on some flighty whim the way Tina just did.”

He managed a tight smile. His “poor wife” had been exactly that. A poor wife. But not in the way Doreen Pyle meant. Abandoning Layla had been a helluva way to show off her maternal nature. Tina’s quitting out of the blue was a lot more forgivable. “Would you at least stay until I find someone new?” He had to finish getting the hay in before the weather turned. And then he and his closest neighbor to the east were helping each other through roundup. Then he’d be sorting and shipping and—

“I’ll stay another week,” she said, interrupting the litany of tasks running through his mind. “But that’s it, Ryder.”

Layla grinned up at him with her six teeth and smacked his face again with her hand.

He looked back at his housekeeper. “A week.”

“That’s all the time I can give you, Ryder. I’m sorry.”

A week was better than nothing.

And it was damn sure more than Tina had given him.

“I don’t suppose you could stay and watch Layla for another few hours or so?” As his housekeeper began shaking her head no, he grabbed the refrigerator door and stuck his head inside, so he could pretend he didn’t see. “Got a friend—” big overstatement there “—who needs help towing her car back to town. Broke down up near Devil’s Crossing.” He grabbed the bottle of ketchup that Layla latched onto and stuck it back on the refrigerator shelf. She immediately reached for something else and he quickly shut the door and gave Mrs. Pyle a hopeful look. The same one he’d mastered by the time he was ten and living with Adelaide.

Instead of looking resigned and accepting, though, Mrs. Pyle was giving him an eyebrows-in-the-hairline look. “Her car? Is this female friend single?”

Warning alarms went off inside his head. “Yeah.”

She lifted Layla out of his arms. “Well, go rescue your lady friend. And give my suggestion about a wife some thought.”

He let her remark slide. “Thank you, Mrs. Pyle.”

“Not going to change my leaving in a week,” she warned as she carried the baby out of the kitchen. “And you might think about washing some of the day off yourself, as well, before you go out playing Dudley Do-Right.”

* * *

He hadn’t showered, but he had washed up and pulled on fresh clothes. And he still felt pretty stupid about it.

It wasn’t as if he wanted to impress Greer Templeton. Not with a clean shirt or anything else. And it damn sure wasn’t as if he was giving Mrs. Pyle’s suggestion any consideration.

Marrying someone just for Layla’s sake?

He pushed the idea straight out of his mind and shifted into Park at the top of the hill as he stared out at the worn-looking Victorian house.

The white paint on the fancy trim was peeling and the dove-gray paint on the siding was fading. The shingle roof needed repair, if not replacement, and the brick chimney looked as if it were related to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But the yard around the house was green and neat.

Not exactly what he would have expected of the lady lawyer. But then again, she worked for the public defender’s office, where the pay was reportedly abysmal and most of her clients were supposedly the dregs of society.

He turned off the engine and got out of the truck, walking around to the trailer he’d used to haul Greer’s little car. He checked the chains holding it in place and then headed up the front walk to the door.

The street was quiet, and his boots clumped loudly as he went up the steps and crossed the porch to knock on the door. The heavy brass door knocker was shaped like a dragonfly.

If he could ever get Adelaide to come and visit Braden, she’d love the place.

When no one came to the door, he went back down the porch steps. There was an elderly woman across the street making a production of sweeping the sidewalk, though it seemed obvious she was more interested in giving him the once-over.

He tipped the brim of his hat toward her before he started unchaining Greer’s car. “Evenin’.”

The woman clutched her broom tightly and started across the street. A little black poodle trotted after her. “That’s Greer’s car,” the woman said suspiciously.

He didn’t stop what he was doing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What’re you doing with it?”

“Unloading it.”

She stopped several feet away, still holding the broom handle as if she was prepared to use it on him if need be. “I don’t know you.”

“No, ma’am.” He fit the wheel ramps in place and hopped up onto the trailer. “I assure you that Greer does.” He opened the car door and folded himself down inside it.

Maybe Greer—who was probably all of five two or three without those high heels she was always wearing—could fit comfortably into the car, but he couldn’t. Not for any length of time, anyway.

He started the car, backed down the ramp and turned into the driveway. Then he shut off the engine, crawled out from behind the wheel and locked it up again before sticking the key back into the magnetic box he’d found tucked inside the wheel well.

The woman was still standing in the middle of the street.

He secured the ramps back up onto the trailer and gave her another nod. “If you see her, tell her she’s got a thermostat problem.”

“Tell her yourself.” The woman pointed her broom handle at an expensive black SUV that had just crested the top of the hill. “Bet that’s her now.”

He bit back an oath. He still didn’t know what had possessed him to haul Greer’s car into town for her, particularly without her knowledge. And his chance of a clean escape had just disappeared.

The SUV pulled to a stop in front of Greer’s house. The windows were tinted, so he couldn’t see who was behind the wheel, but he definitely could see the shapely leg that emerged when the passenger-side door opened.

It belonged to Greer, looking very un-Greer-like in a flowy sort of dress patterned in vibrant swirls of color that could have rivaled one of his aunt’s paintings. Half her hair was untidily pulled up and held by a glittery pink clip.

He still knew it was her, though, and not one of her sisters. No question, considering the sharp look she gave him as she closed the SUV door and approached him. “You hauled my car here?”

“I suppose there’s no point in denying the obvious.” He watched the big SUV pull around in the cul-de-sac and head back down the hill. The identity of the driver was none of his business. He wondered, anyway. “Boyfriend?”

She frowned. “Grant. And why did you haul it?”

No wonder the SUV had turned around and left. “You’d rather have it still sitting out on the side of the highway?”

“Of course not, but—” She broke off, looking consternated, and only then seemed to notice that they had an audience. “How are you doing, Mrs. Gunderson?” She leaned down to pet the little round dog. Ryder wasn’t enough of a gentleman to look away when the stretchy, ruffled neckline of Greer’s dress revealed more than it should have.

“Just fine, dearie. Oh, Mignon, don’t jump!”

Mrs. Gunderson’s admonishment was too late, though, because the dog had already bounced up and into Greer’s arms.

He was actually a little impressed that the fat Mignon could jump.

But he was more impressed by the way Greer caught him and laughed.

He had never heard her laugh before. Not her or her sisters. Her chocolate-colored eyes sparkled and her face practically glowed.

And damned if he didn’t feel something warm streak down his spine.

“You probably need a new thermostat,” he said abruptly.

The dog was licking the bottom of her chin even though she was trying to avoid his tongue, but she didn’t put Mignon down. “How do you know?”

“Because I checked everything else that would cause your overheating before I towed it back here.” He stepped around the two women. “And think about keeping your car key in a less obvious hiding spot,” he advised as pulled open the door to climb inside his truck.

Greer’s jaw dropped a little, which gave Mignon more chin to lick. She set the dog down and trotted after him, wrapping her fingers over the open window. “You’re just going to leave now?”

His fingers closed over the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. “What else do you figure I should do?”

Her lips parted slightly. “Can I pay you for the tow at least?”

He turned the key. “No need.”

“Well, I should do something.” She didn’t step back from the truck, despite the engine leaping to life. “To thank you at least. Surely there’s something I can do.”

The “something” that leaped to mind wasn’t exactly fit for sharing in polite company. Particularly with her elderly neighbor still watching them as though they were prime-time entertainment.

He said the next best option that came to mind. “Next time I need a lawyer, you can owe me one.” He even managed a smile to go with the words.

Fortunately, it seemed like enough. She smiled back and patted the door once. “You’ll never collect on that.” Her voice was light.

“One thing I’ve learned in my life is to never say never.” He looked away from her ringless ring finger. “Where’d that dog go?”

Greer looked around, giving him a close-up view of the tender skin on the back of her neck. She had a trio of tiny freckles just below the loose strands of hair. Like someone had dashed a few specks of cinnamon across a smooth layer of cream.

He focused on Mrs. Gunderson, who was skirting the back of his trailer, calling the dog’s name. “Mignon, get out from under there, right now!”

Greer had joined in, crouching down to look under the vehicle.

He figured if he revved the engine, it might send the fat dog into cardiac arrest. He shut it off again and climbed out. “Where is he?”

“He’s lying down right inside the back tire.” Mrs. Gunderson looked like she was about to go down on her hands and knees. “Mignon, you naughty little thing. Come out here, right now. Oh, darn it, he seems to have found something he thinks is food.”

“Why don’t you get one of his usual treats?” Greer suggested.

“Good idea.” Mrs. Gunderson set off across the street once more.

If he’d hoped that her departure would spur the dog to follow, he was wrong. He knelt on one knee to look under the trailer. “Come ’ere, pooch.”

Mignon paid him no heed at all, except to move even farther beneath the trailer.

Greer crouched next to him. The bottom of her dress puddled around her. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

Ryder slid his hand out from beneath the soft, colorful fabric that covered it. “He wouldn’t like getting flattened by my trailer, either.”

“He’ll come out for his treats,” she assured him.

“Since he looks like he lives on treats, I hope so.” It would take the better part of an hour to get home and he’d probably already used up Mrs. Pyle’s allotment of patience. If the treat didn’t work, he’d have to drag the little bugger out.

“She’s actually gotten him to lose a couple pounds.”

“He’s still wider than he is tall. Reminds me of my aunt’s dog, Brutus.” He straightened and looked across the street, hoping to see Mrs. Gunderson heading back. Instead, she was just reaching the top of her porch stairs and he could feel the minutes ticking away.

* * *

Even though he didn’t say anything, Greer could feel the impatience coming off Ryder in waves. She stood, hoping that Mrs. Gunderson moved with more speed than she usually did. It was obvious that he was anxious to be on his way. “Your aunt has an overweight poodle?”

He lifted his hat just long enough to shove his fingers through his thick brown hair. “Overweight pug.” His blue gaze slid over her from beneath the hat brim as he pulled it low over his brow. “Adelaide spoils him rotten.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “A pug named Brutus?”

He shrugged. “She has a particular sense of irony.”

“I love your aunt’s name,” she said. “Adelaide.”

A dimple came and went in his lean cheek. “Coming from the woman who lives in that Victorian thing behind us, I’m not real surprised.”

She leaned against the side rail of the trailer. “Does she live in New Mexico?” Greer and her sisters didn’t know much about Ryder, but had learned that he’d lived in New Mexico before moving to Wyoming.

The brim of his hat dipped slightly. “She has a place near Taos.”

“The only place I’ve ever been in New Mexico was the Albuquerque airport during a layover.” She glanced toward her neighbor’s house. The front door was still open, but there was no sign of Mrs. Gunderson yet. “Did you grow up there?”

The dimple came again, staying a little longer this time. “In the Albuquerque airport?”

“Ha ha.”

His lips actually stretched into a smile. “Yeah. I spent most of my time in Taos.”

So she now knew he had an aunt. But she still didn’t know if he had parents. Siblings. Other ex-wives. Anybody else at all besides Layla. “What’s it like there? It’s pretty artsy, isn’t it?”

“More so than Braden.”

“Does your aunt get to visit you often?”

“She’s never been here. She doesn’t like to travel much anymore. If I want to see her, I have to go to her.” He thumbed up the brim of his hat and squinted at the sky.

“You’re anxious to go.”

“Yup.” He knelt down to look at the dog again. “My housekeeper’s gonna be peeved.” He gave a coaxing whistle. “Come ’ere, dog.”

“Your housekeeper’s Doreen Pyle?”

Still down on one knee, he looked up at Greer and something swooped inside her stomach. “Keeping close tabs on me?”

She ignored the strange sensation. “Braden is a small community. And I happen to know her grandson pretty well.”

“Dating him, are you?”

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped. “Since he’s not legally an adult, hardly. Haven’t even had a date in—” She broke off, appalled at herself, embarrassed by the speculative look he was giving her. She pointed, absurdly grateful for Mrs. Gunderson’s timely reappearance on her front porch. Her neighbor was holding something in her hand, waving it in the air as she came down the steps. “There’s the treat.”

And sure enough, before his mistress had even gotten to the street, Mignon was scrabbling out from beneath the trailer, practically rolling over his feet as he bolted.

Ryder straightened and gave her that faint smile again. The one that barely curved his well-shaped lips, but still managed to reveal his dimple. “Never underestimate the power of a good treat.”

Then he thumbed the brim of his hat in that way he had of doing. Sort of old-fashioned and, well, rancherly. He walked around his truck and climbed inside. A moment later, he’d started the engine and was driving away.

Mrs. Gunderson picked up Mignon, who was happily gnawing on his piece of doggy jerky, and stood next to Greer. “He’s a good-looking one, isn’t he?”

At least her elderly neighbor could explain away her breathlessness. She’d had to climb her porch stairs to retrieve the dog treats.

Greer, on the other hand, had no such excuse. “He’s surprising, anyway.” She gave Mignon’s head a scratch. “I’ve got to go call my dad before he drives out to haul my car that no longer needs hauling.”

Then she hurried inside, pretending not to hear Mrs. Gunderson’s knowing chuckle.