Читать книгу The Bull Rider's Baby - Brenda Minton - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Keeton lugged the infant car seat into the ramshackle house that he now called home. It had electricity, running water and little else to recommend it. The porch sagged in places and a few boards were missing. The living room was long and narrow with only two windows and floors that creaked when he walked across them. He put the baby down on the sofa he’d hauled in a few days ago.

She had fallen asleep halfway home, after sucking down a bottle, burping loudly and then fussing with hiccups for a few minutes. If she’d stay asleep he could carry in groceries and baby stuff he’d bought in Grove.

For a second she fussed and he wondered if she’d wake up. But he remembered something he’d seen women at church do. He rocked the little seat, slow and easy. Lucy cuddled down into the blanket he’d gotten her and sucked on the pacifier.

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m a pro at this. Now, don’t wake up.” He eased toward the door, avoiding spots on the hardwood floors that he knew were prone to creak.

When he got to the truck he could hear work going on at the construction site across the road. It looked as though some houses were going up on the fifty acres. He shrugged because it wasn’t his land, just land he’d thought he might be able to buy.

He grabbed the baby bed out of the back of his truck and headed for the house, nearly tripping over a half-starved cat in the process. “Get out of here.”

The cat yowled and ran for the barn. Feral cats. There were probably a dozen of them in the barn. He’d have to start catching them and taking them to the veterinarian in Dawson. One thing at a time. But he wasn’t going to let a dozen cats keep reproducing in the one good thing about this property. The barn. He planned on turning that barn into his stable. And then he’d build a hay barn and equipment shed. He had plans. Dreams. His own this time.

As he carried the crib through the house he could hear the continued pounding from the other side of the road. The sound drifted through the open windows along with a nice breeze that felt a little cool for May. He set the crib in the larger of the two bedrooms, leaning it against the bed he’d bought used.

On his way back out to grab the remaining groceries, a cat ran in. He glanced back at the skinny gray tabby. He hated cats. He opened his mouth to yell at the scrawny feline and his attention landed on the sleeping baby in the seat.

Okay, his life as he knew it had ended. In one fell swoop, Becka had delivered the ultimate blow. She’d officially sidelined him, stolen his man-card and parked him square in the role of fatherhood. He didn’t even get to yell at the cat that had meandered into the dining room and was sniffing the corner of the bare room.

“Later, cat.” He whispered the threat and backed out the door, giving the cat the look and then pointing two fingers at his own eyes and then back at it, as if it would understand.

Ten minutes later he had groceries and baby paraphernalia in the house and even had the supplies stored in the three cabinets he’d cleaned out with window cleaner and paper towels. He looked around, not really pleased but okay with the cleaning job.

This little kitchen held a lot of memories, most had to do with his grandmother. He’d eaten a lot of fried bologna sandwiches and homemade chocolate chip cookies in this kitchen. Back then the cabinets had been painted bright yellow and the floor had been white-and-yellow linoleum. He didn’t know if he’d return to that color scheme but he was looking forward to cleaning things up and making it look the way it used to.

A car driving fast down the country road caught his attention. He hurried to the door just in time to hear a dozen pops, similar to a small-caliber handgun. People across the road yelled. Someone shouted, “No housing project!”

Keeton started out the door, made it halfway to his truck and remembered the baby. He hurried back to the house, banging the front door as he rushed into the room and grabbed the infant carrier. The cat got smart and hightailed it out through a hole in the screen. The mangy thing didn’t have a tail.

The strap in the truck played stubborn and it took him a few minutes to get the car seat belted into the truck. After that it only took minutes to get to the building site across the road. A couple of trucks were parked close and a woman stood near the corner of the new foundation making a phone call. She was tall, slim, dressed in a business suit and heels.

No way.

But yes way. She turned around and he was staring at the very lovely Sophie Cooper. She turned her back to him and walked away, still talking on the phone.

Next to him, Lucy cried out, demanding his attention. He leaned over and unbuckled her. When he pulled her out, she settled into the curve of his shoulder as if she’d always been there, made for that spot. It kind of hit him in the heart, how right it felt to hold a baby he’d only known for a few days.

He walked across the grassy field toward the foundation of a house.

“What happened?” he asked one of the men walking around the area, looking for whatever had been thrown at them. Or aimed at them.

The older of the two looked to be a few years younger than Keeton. Shaggy beard and a sweat-stained ball cap, the guy shrugged. “Guess they don’t want us here.”

“Did you see if they shot at you or threw something?”

The guy shrugged. “I think they threw fireworks. Ms. Cooper thought it was a gun.”

Keeton smiled and so did the younger man. They walked around the area, looking for remnants of fireworks. He found them closer to the road than the house site. He left them for the police, assuming that’s who Sophie had been on the phone with.

He walked back up to the house. There were two trucks, no sedan. Sophie stood near one of the trucks, a beater in worse shape than his. So, she’d been going incognito. He smiled and then laughed.

“You’re a contractor now?”

She bristled and took a step back. Man, she was beautiful. The wind whipped her hair around her face and she pushed it back with a gloved hand. Yeah, he liked Sophie the contractor. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with Keeton the bull rider.

“I’m helping people build houses. I didn’t exactly want it known.” She pushed a hand through her hair and looked away. “And I am on the board of Cooper Holdings. I know how to get things done.”

“Sophie, you’re in Dawson, Oklahoma. Or at least close enough. People are going to find out. Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret?”

She shrugged slim shoulders beneath a clean, blue jacket. She must have gone home and changed after their encounter a few hours ago.

“I don’t know. I guess I had hoped to keep it to myself. I keep my truck in the garage. No one knows I have it.”

“You’re a very sneaky woman.” But he wondered aloud, “Why all the secrecy? It isn’t as if you’re doing something wrong. Are you?”

She glanced around the property, green with spring rains and warm sunshine. Wildflowers bloomed and the trees were heavy with new leaves. “No, I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m doing something for myself, without everyone in the world being involved.”

“Gotcha.” But he didn’t really get it. He guessed if she wanted to explain, she would.

“The police are going to be here in a little while.”

“Yeah, we found the remnants of fireworks.”

Pink shaded her cheeks. “Well, it sounded like a gun.”

“Why do they want to stop you from building?”

“I guess they don’t like the idea of a subdivision.”

He glanced around at the gravel drive leading into the place, the tall grass and the ropes used to plot out lots.

“Why do you have a subdivision listed as a nonprofit?”

“It is nonprofit.” She sighed and took the squirming, fussy baby from his shoulder. “She’s still warm.”

“I know. I bought her fever reducer. As soon as I get to the house I’ll give her some.”

“Right.” Sophie whispered to the baby that it would be all better. He kind of wished she’d whisper that to him. Instead she looked up, and when she met his gaze, her smile was gone and her eyes lacked something important. “Keeton, this started as a way for me to help some of our employees. There are good people trying to buy homes, buy places in the country to raise their kids, and they can’t afford to. I bought the land, pooled people with different talents who want to build their own home and brought them all together to help each other build houses at cost. The Amish do it, why can’t we?”

“And you’re financing this?” Which might explain why she didn’t want her family to know.

“No, not completely. I found a resource for low-interest loans.”

“You’re pretty amazing.” He watched her with the baby, watched the way she cuddled the child as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

And he couldn’t even get Lucy to take a nap without driving her around in his truck.

Now what? He needed to head back to his house, out of this mess. But he couldn’t walk away. Why? He shrugged it off. Either he was staying because of her. Or because he owed it to Kade to look out for her.

If Kade had lived, Sophie would have been his sister-in-law. So yeah, he was doing it for his brother.

* * *

A police car came down the road, giving Sophie a break from the conversation with Keeton. She untangled herself from the smelly little bundle that was Lucy and handed the infant back to her daddy.

“You have to give her a bath today.” She released the baby to her father’s arms.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You can do this, Keeton.”

“I know.” He cradled the now wide-awake baby in one arm. Sophie tried not to think about how he looked with that baby. “They really do have how-to books. I bought one at the store.”

She shook her head at his admission. “That will help a lot.”

“I’m sure it will.” He walked next to her as the patrol car pulled in. “Want me to stay?”

“You can go.”

He shifted the baby from his left arm to his right. “Suit yourself.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“I know you are. Just saying, I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know you are. And—” she smiled at the baby then raised her gaze to meet his “—I’m just down the road if you need anything.”

The words weren’t easy. She almost hadn’t said them. But it was the right thing to do, offering help.

“Thanks.” He touched the brim of his hat. “See you at the rodeo tonight?”

“Probably not.”

She watched as he got into his truck and started down the bumpy, gravel drive. Today, nothing made sense. Keeton back in town didn’t make sense. Her reaction to seeing him made less sense. Even when she made the point to remind herself he was just another cowboy in faded jeans and dusty boots her heart waffled, not really agreeing.

Maybe because he hadn’t teased her. He hadn’t questioned what she was doing and why. She watched him go, biting her bottom lip until it hurt. And then the officer approached, casting a cautious gaze around the area.

“Ms. Cooper?”

“Yes.” She turned, giving him her full attention. For the most part.

“I’m Officer Walters.”

They leaned against her truck as she recounted the story, ending with an apology for calling him out on something as silly as firecrackers.

“Ma’am, if you felt threatened by their actions, then that’s exactly why you should have called. We’ll have something on record in case there are other incidents, and if we see a pattern.”

“That sounds good.” Though she couldn’t imagine what pattern they’d see. Fireworks didn’t match a criminal profile that she knew of. It appeared to be more a case of overactive imagination on her part.

Jeff and Gabe told what they remembered, and then they took the police officer to the spot where they’d found the firecrackers. She watched as he shoved the evidence into a plastic bag and walked back up to where she waited.

“I’ve got a description of the car and what you think the passenger looked like. I’ll take this in and we’ll call you if we find anything. If you do see that car again, call. And if you can get a license number without putting yourself in danger, that would help.”

“Thank you, Officer.” Sophie watched him leave, and then she glanced at her watch. It was almost two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. The two guys standing in front of her looked as if they would rather be anywhere but here.

“What now, Ms. Cooper?” Jeff, tall and lanky, picked up his tool bag and strapped it around his waist. He pushed his ball cap down on thinning hair.

“Let’s go home, guys. The supplies are here. If the two of you and a few others want to do more on the frame next week, everything is ready to go.”

“That sounds good.” Gabe picked up the toolbox he’d left near her truck. “Call if you need anything at all.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” She smiled at the younger man. He was single and unemployed for the time being so he had signed on to help a few of his married friends build houses. His experience in so many areas of construction made him a valuable part of the team.

After the two of them left she got into the old truck she’d bought a few weeks ago. She eased down the gravel drive, and at the road she didn’t turn toward her house. Instead she turned left, and then into the driveway of the old West homestead.

Keeton’s truck was parked close to the front door. She sat for a minute staring at the old farmhouse with the dark green siding. She’d loved this place years ago when his grandparents were alive. It always reminded her of trees in the summer. Dark green with brown trim around the windows and brown shingles. Irises bloomed profusely around the house, leftovers from tubers his grandmother had planted. When she bought her house a few years ago, she’d dug up several and replanted them around her front porch.

The front door opened. Keeton walked out and then leaned against the post. She laughed because he looked cool, pretty cute, actually. Until the post he chose to lean against wobbled and came loose. He fell to the side and righted himself.

His smile zoomed across the yard, bright with white teeth that flashed.

“You getting out?” he called out to her.

She shouldn’t. Not if she had any sense at all. She’d always been the Cooper kid most likely to use common sense. Lately something had happened. Maybe an early midlife crisis?

Instead of waving goodbye and leaving, she got out. Her heart raced ahead of her. And then guilt rushed in. It ached deep down, tangling with the past and with this moment.

“Don’t look like you just stole the teacher’s apple.”

“Why would a teacher ever really want an apple?” Was that the only thing she could come back with? “I mean, really, wouldn’t she be glad if someone took it? Wouldn’t she prefer a student give her chocolate?”

“You’re overthinking this.”

She cleared her throat and nodded. “Of course I am. I’m Sophie Cooper, I always overthink.”

“Right, and where has that gotten you?”

For a moment she thought about that question. But then she heard the baby from inside the house, crying. “I think someone wants you.”

“Right. Are you coming in?” He headed toward the house, not waiting for her. “You didn’t answer. Where has overthinking gotten you?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he walked up the steps of the porch.

“Overthinking has kept me out of trouble.” And kept her heart virtually pain free for sixteen years. Poor atrophied heart. It needed serious physical therapy if she ever planned on using it again.

She followed Keeton through the front door. He had already picked up Lucy and had her cradled against his chest. “She’s pretty warm.”

Sophie kissed the baby’s brow. “Very. Have you given her the medicine?”

“Yeah, when I got back.”

“And a bath?”

“Not yet.” He smiled and there was something different about a cowboy smile when the cowboy was holding a baby. “I haven’t read the book.”

Sophie reached for the baby and he handed Lucy over.

“Run lukewarm water in the sink. We’ll start there. I’ll give you a crash course in baby bathing and you can read your how-to manual later.”

“Thanks, Sophie, I owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” She followed him into the kitchen. He turned on the tap and washed out the sink. “Do you have baby soap?”

“Yeah, let me get the water going and I’ll go get the supplies I bought at the store.”

Regret—Sophie had a lot. And after today, she’d have more. Hip against the counter, she watched as he plugged the sink and then rummaged through the plastic bags on the counter, pulling out the soap, washcloth and towel. He held up a little sleeper, pink with ponies on the front.

“Sweet. You did good.” Sophie spread the towel on the counter and slipped off the dirty sleeper. She dropped it on the floor and waited for it to get up and walk away on its own. It was that dirty.

“Now what?”

“You can throw that sleeper away.”

“Done.” He picked it up and tossed it in the trash. A second later he was at her side again. He smelled good. Spicy with a hint of a pine forest mixed in. It was the kind of scent that made a woman want to lean in close.

If it were any other man. If she was any other woman. She sighed and let go of need, held on to strength.

“In the bath she goes.” Sophie lifted the baby, and before putting her in the water, tested it to make sure it wasn’t too hot or cold. “Perfect. Maybe this will help break that fever. And I’m sure she’ll feel better.”

“Soph, I appreciate this.”

“Of course you do, because you think I’m going to do all of the work. Surprise.” She cradled the baby in the water. Lucy tested the surface of the water with pudgy little fingers, and then she splashed just a little. “Hold her like this and then squirt a little soap on the washcloth. It doesn’t take much to wash a baby, Keeton. Even her hair. There isn’t much of it.”

“Right, of course.” He swallowed loud and she looked up, smiling at the bead of perspiration across his brow.

“Easy-peasy.” She moved a little but still cradled the baby on her left arm. “Your turn.”

“She’s already clean.”

“I know, but I want you to be able to do this on your own.”

“I can.” He cleared his throat. “Seriously, Soph, I can do this.”

“You could hire a nanny.”

“I have skills.”

Yeah, she thought.

He reached for his baby girl and Sophie moved her hands to make room for his. She glanced up and he looked down. It felt suddenly very warm in that little kitchen.

“I can handle it without a nanny.” He repeated her actions and Lucy giggled, happy to be clean and to be cooler. “She hasn’t eaten a lot today.”

“She needs liquids. Especially now, with a fever. If she gets enough formula, give her water.” She placed the towel over his shoulder and he looked a little stricken. “Take her out before she gets chilled.”

“I can’t believe this is my life.” He lifted Lucy out of the bathwater and wrapped the towel around her. Sophie took the child from his arms.

“Believe it, Keeton West, this is your life.” She held Lucy close. “What were you planning, coming back here?”

He grabbed a diaper and the sleeper. Sophie put the baby on the counter and made quick work of putting a diaper and the sleeper on Lucy. A little part of her liked that he looked in awe.

“I thought I’d come back and reclaim what should have been mine.” He held his daughter.

The lighthearted moment of seconds ago dissolved. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He leaned, brushing a brotherly kiss on the side of her head. She paused midbutton on the sleeper and looked up at him.

“I know it isn’t—wasn’t my fault. I’m sorry, Keeton, for everything. I’m sorry for the years we’ve all lost, being sorry, being guilty, being alone.” She looked away, because it was easier to focus on Lucy. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

Did he really? She thought he probably still felt guilty. He’d been a kid, really. Even though at eighteen and nineteen they’d thought they were grown, thought they knew everything.

She handed him the baby girl that had his eyes. And in those eyes she saw a little bit of Kade, the West she’d planned on marrying. In a jewelry box at home she had the ring he’d given her, a promise that someday they’d get engaged, get married.

She also had a rose, taken from one of the flower arrangements on his casket. And in a notebook, hidden away in her dresser, she had a note from Keeton, telling her how sorry he was for what had happened. He blamed himself. He would always blame himself.

And he’d spent his life trying to earn the national bull-riding championship Kade had wanted. He was still chasing Kade’s dreams.

She wanted to tell him that. She wanted to tell him to let it go and find what he wanted. Maybe this farm was it? But she wouldn’t go back to other memories, of the afternoon of the funeral and finding comfort in Keeton’s arms.

Keeton wasn’t the only one who felt guilty.