Читать книгу The Rancher's Miracle Baby - April Arrington - Страница 10

Chapter Three

A body rests easier after doing the right thing.

Alex stood on the front porch and waited as Tammy finished changing Brody’s diaper on the grass, recalling the words Ms. Maxine had repeated to him a thousand times over the years. Ones she’d spoken when he’d gotten suspended from middle school for smoking, then reminded him of when he’d returned to his foster parents’ house after sneaking out for a weekend party binge as a teen.

It was a phrase he’d grown to know well. And one he’d strictly adhered to after mending his ways and proposing to Susan.

But there were some things a man couldn’t control.

He adjusted the bag of cookies under his arm and gripped the can of soda in his hand tighter, hoping the toothpaste he’d rubbed over his teeth masked the whiskey on his breath. Abstaining from the bottle between the hours of five in the morning and nine at night was a rule he’d taken pride in for nine years. But, surely, his grief from losing his best friends excused today’s slip.

Only, his shortcomings were easier to deal with—and accept—when there were no witnesses to them.

Alex winced and rolled his shoulders to ease the tight knot at the base of his neck. He couldn’t stay holed up in the kitchen all afternoon, tossing back shots, while Tammy cleaned up the front yard and took care of Brody. The only thing left to do was pull his shit together and at least be hospitable. It was what any gentleman would do. And he still knew how to be one. Even if it’d been years since he’d put his good manners into practice.

A little longer. That’s it. Make them comfortable for a few more hours, and soon Ms. Maxine would whisk Brody away to a new home and the wrecker would cart Tammy and her overturned truck back to the highway. Then he could curl up with a bottle for hours and grieve in private.

Alex nodded curtly and eased his way down the front steps to Tammy’s side. “Figured you might be thirsty,” he said, handing the soda to her as she knelt next to the baby. “Power’s still out, so it’s warm. Sorry about that.”

“Thanks.” She lifted Brody to his feet, then took the soda and popped the top.

Her slim throat moved as she drank deeply, drawing Alex’s eyes to the flushed skin of her neck and upper chest. The dog climbed onto her knees and jumped to lick the can. She pushed him away with her free hand, causing the collar of her T-shirt to slip to one side. It revealed a faint tan line below her collarbones that contrasted sharply with the ivory complexion of the upper swell of her breast.

Alex had a sudden urge to trail his lips across her warm skin and breathe in her sweet scent. He peeled his gaze away, ignoring the heat simmering in his veins, and caught her eyes on him. She lowered the can, straightened her shirt with her free hand and pushed to her feet.

Ah, hell. A gentleman didn’t ogle a woman, and this was becoming a habit.

Cheeks burning, he cleared his throat and gestured to the trash bag on the ground nearby. “I see you found the diapers. There’s some baby food and juice in there, too. Not a lot. But enough to get him through at least one more day.”

Something tugged at his jeans, and a frustrated squeal erupted. He looked down, finding Brody attempting to climb up his leg, his small arm stretched out and tiny fingers grabbing for the bag of cookies under Alex’s arm.

Tammy laughed. “I don’t think he’s interested in baby food. Looks like he’d much rather get a hold of those cookies.”

A soft breeze ruffled Brody’s hair, and the boy blinked wide, pleading eyes up at him. The brown strands and deep chestnut pools were the same shade as Dean’s, and his small cries were impossible to resist.

Alex’s chest constricted so tight he could barely breathe. “A social worker is coming for him,” he rasped, reminding himself as much as informing Tammy. He handed a cookie to Brody, then smoothed his knuckles across the boy’s soft cheek. “And someone’s arranging to have your truck and trailer hauled to the body shop in town. Don’t know how long it’ll take to fix ’em, but power will probably be restored in town first. You’ll have a better chance of reaching a friend or family member sooner there.”

She nodded absently, and her gaze drifted to the empty field behind him. “I looked for Razz this morning,” she said softly. “I couldn’t find her.”

“Your horse?”

“Yeah.” Those emerald eyes returned to his face. “Do you think she survived?”

He grimaced, then watched Brody mouth the cookie and spin in awkward circles to avoid the puppy leaping for the treat. “Can’t say for sure.”

Chances were, her horse was gone along with all of his. God help him, he didn’t want to lie to her. But he didn’t want to see pain engulf those beautiful features, either.

“She might’ve made it,” Alex said, squinting against the sharp rays of the sun and scanning the landscape. “There’s a chance she’s huddled up somewhere with mine.”

Though he wouldn’t bet what little money he had left on it. And he didn’t even want to think about how much it’d cost to put this struggling ranch back in working order.

“How many do you have?” she asked.

“Ten.”

“You board them?”

“And breed them.” He turned to study a field behind him. “Mainly for ranch work. I try for blue roans, since they’ve brought in the most over the past two years.” His throat tightened. “Dean was my partner.”

Brody yelped and reached for a second cookie. Alex gave him another, then held the bag out to Tammy. She took a cookie and turned it over in her hand, staring at it with a furrowed brow.

“I know the storm was bad,” she said. “But Razz is fast.” She glanced up, a hesitant smile appearing. “She’s the best barrel horse on the circuit.”

So, she raced. Alex surveyed the slim but strong curves of Tammy’s arms and legs more closely. No wonder she’d held her own through yesterday’s nightmare. The few rodeo riders he’d known were a tough lot. Full of grit and fight.

He’d never taken to the circuit life, though he’d tried it once years ago, riding bulls one summer in his early twenties. It was fun, brought in a decent amount of cash and provided an outlet for his reckless streak. But then he’d started missing Susan and realized he wanted her more. Wanted a wife and home. A family of his own. And he’d decided it wasn’t fair to keep Susan waiting. That he should return to Deer Creek, settle down like Dean and do the right thing.

His jaw clenched. If he’d known then how much he’d end up disappointing Susan, the right thing to do would’ve been a very different choice.

“I’m hoping she dodged the worst of it.”

Alex blinked and refocused on Tammy’s face, his stomach dropping. “What?”

“Razz,” Tammy clarified, studying him again. “She might have outrun the tornado, and if she managed to survive, then maybe your horses did, too.” Her attention drifted to Brody, and her smile widened. “After all, this little guy came out of it okay.”

Brody grinned, his mouth laden with crumbs, and stretched his arms out to Tammy. She slipped her cookie in her pocket, lifted him up and cradled his head against her chest.

“Yeah, he did,” Alex murmured, his eyes clinging to the gentle embrace of her arms around Brody and the slow sway of her body as she rocked him.

The movements were calming, and Brody soaked it up, his eyelids growing heavy and his breaths slowing. Her brown hair slipped over her shoulder and rested against Brody, the wavy locks sharing the same chestnut tones as those of the baby.

She was a natural at comforting a child and, had Alex not known better, he would have assumed Brody belonged to her. It would be the easiest thing in the world to mistake the two of them for family. For mother and son.

An ache streamed through Alex’s limbs, making his palms itch to reach out and tug them both close. To hold them in a protective embrace, feel the steady pulse of their hearts and draw strength from their solid presence. To imagine, just for a moment, that he belonged, too. As a man and a father...

But that would be a mistake. He stiffened and turned away. He’d been abandoned as a child and had struggled to fit in with each of the three foster families he’d lived with as a youth. He’d had to fight his damnedest to establish enough stability in his life to offer Susan the promise of a secure future filled with family and happiness. Things he’d failed to deliver, wrecking Susan’s dreams along with his own.

No. Nature knew what it was doing. He wasn’t built to be a family man—it wasn’t in his DNA to be a father—and he was foolish for even entertaining the fantasy.

“Someone’s here.”

Tammy’s words were joined with the faint churn of an engine and the slosh of tires through mud down the driveway. A compact car eased over the hill, maneuvered around various piles of debris and drew to a stop several feet behind the fallen tree blocking the path. The door opened, and an older woman stepped out, wisps of gray hair escaping her topknot in the soft breeze.

Alex caught his breath, smothering the urge to run into her arms and seek comfort like he had as a boy. Instead, he placed the bag of cookies on the ground, took off his hat and waited.

A sad smile dispersed the soft wrinkles lining the woman’s face as she made her way over. “Oh, Alex.” She wrapped her arms tight around him, standing on the toes of her high heels to whisper in his ear, “I’m so sorry about Dean and Gloria.”

A low cry dislodged from Alex’s throat and pried its way out of his mouth. He coughed, closing his throat against another sob, and tucked the top of her head gently under his chin. “Thank you, Ms. Maxine.”

He gave in to the moment, closing his eyes and squeezing her close. The familiar scent of her perfume arose from her clothing, and the sweet aroma took him back years. All the way back to when he was a dumb kid and the only bright spot in each day had been her forgiving smile and unconditional support. Ms. Maxine was the closest he’d ever come to having a real mother. His mother had abandoned him at an early age. And from what little information Maxine had available to share with him, his father had never been in the picture.