Читать книгу Mr Serious - Danica Winters - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Eloise had been cooking constantly since Waylon had stepped foot back onto the ranch, and the rich odors of roasting meat and butter wafted throughout the house. After their run-in with William, Christina was more than happy to settle back into the warmth and comfort of the kitchen as she helped Eloise put the finishing touches on the meal.

Waylon and Colter walked in, but they were so wrapped up in whatever they had been talking about that neither of them seemed to notice her sitting at the bar.

Colter looked a lot like his older, biological brother. They both had the same copper-tinted skin, dark brown eyes and jet-black hair, but beyond their looks, the two were nothing alike. Waylon carried himself as though he were ready to take on the world, while Colter...well, it could be said that he was constantly at ease. It was almost as if Waylon carried a chip on his shoulder big enough for the both of them, so big that Colter had never felt its weight.

“Heya, Colt,” Christina said, giving him a small wave.

He smiled brightly, the simple action lighting up his face with his characteristic warmth. “How’s it going, lady? Long time no see.” He walked over and gave her a hug so big that her feet came off the floor.

She laughed, but she couldn’t help but notice the frown that flickered over Waylon’s features at his brother’s display of affection. Or was it that his brother had suddenly displayed a bit of affection toward her? Either way, she pried herself out of Colt’s arms.

Winnie came running into the kitchen. There was dirt streaked over her face, and her Ace bandage was covered in sticky greenish-brown mud.

“Winnie, were you out in the barn again?” Christina asked, giving the girl an admonishing look.

“Lewis and Clark gotta have cookies,” Winnie said, like giving horses their treats was a vital part of any growing girl’s day. “They so hungry.”

Christina fell victim to the girl’s big brown eyes—eyes that looked entirely too much like her father’s. She instinctively glanced toward Waylon. He was smiling at the girl, and the warmth made her heart shift in her chest. He wasn’t supposed to like children—especially Winnie. If he fell for the girl’s charms and the time came when he was given a choice of having her, Christina would undoubtedly lose out to him and the girl would be taken away.

She wrapped her arms around Winnie, claiming her even though Waylon had no idea she was up for grabs. “Why don’t we go get you cleaned up before supper. Your—” She stopped before she let the word nana fall from her lips. She didn’t want him to ask about the moniker again. The less he knew, the easier it would be.

“What?” Winnie looked up at her.

“Nothing. Let’s just get you cleaned up. You don’t want to be a mess when it comes time to eat.”

Winnie pulled out of her arms. “You’re gonna play dress up.” She pointed toward Waylon. “Yeah, Way-lawn?”

His handsome and confusing smile disappeared. He might have liked Winnie, but he probably wasn’t any closer to wanting a kid than at the moment he’d landed.

“Ah, yeah,” he said, pulling the word into a long collection of syllables. “You still want to do that, eh?” He looked over toward Christina, sending her a questioning glance.

She shrugged. He could stay in the hot seat for a little while longer. Sometimes all it took for a man to go running was an hour with a mercurial toddler—especially his type, the kind who didn’t know the difference between a sippy and a bottle.

Winnie ran over, took him by the hand and started to drag the begrudging Waylon toward her room at the far end of the ranch-style house. She and Alli had shared a room, but now she was on her own.

“Come on, Way-lawn. It’s gonna be fun!” Glee filled Winnie’s words, so much so that Christina was tempted to let him off the hook and take his place.

She didn’t mind living in the land of Pinterest costumes and childish dreams. She embraced country living—a world of quilting parties and Sunday dinners. She found great comfort in the fact that they had their own lifestyle and their own brand of perfection.

Even though Waylon had grown up in this world, the tight look on his face made it clear he didn’t have the same sentimental attachment. He looked like he would be far more comfortable in the throes of war than the throes of pink felt and glitter.

Eloise walked out of the kitchen carrying a bag of frozen corn as Waylon made his way into the girl’s room. “Is he really going to go with her?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“You know Winnie. She has a way of convincing even the stillest of hearts to start beating again.”

Eloise gave her a soft, knowing smile. “I don’t think it’s just Winnie who has that gift.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what the woman was implying, but the thought made Christina shift her weight uncomfortably. She wasn’t having any effect on Waylon, and whether or not Waylon was making her feel unexpected and somewhat unwelcome things...well, there was no way the woman could have known.

Before Eloise could make her think of anything else, she escaped down the hall after the keeper of hearts. She stood outside the bedroom door, listening to Winnie telling Waylon about her stuffed animals. Apparently, according to the story she was telling him, her favorite was her orange-and-white plush cat she had dubbed Mr. Puffy Face. Yesterday the cat had been dubbed Hank; regardless, their interaction made Christina laugh. Winnie hadn’t been herself since her mother’s disappearance, and it was nice to see some happiness return to the girl.

She leaned against the doorjamb, the door open just far enough to see in but not far enough to interrupt the two from their play. Winnie had put on her pink Sleeping Beauty dress, and Waylon had a purple bejeweled tiara perched at an awkward angle on his head.

Christina chuckled as she turned back to the kitchen.

Eloise pulled out the roast from the oven as Colter stirred the vegetables. From the formal dining room, she could hear the titters of laughter as Wyatt and his fiancée, Gwen, set the table. As she stood watching, a comforting feeling of home filled her.

It felt so good to be a part of all of this—and the family. If she had been on her own with Alli’s disappearance, she didn’t know how she would have been able to make it this far—just taking care of Winnie was a full-time event, and that was to say nothing of her job at Dunrovin, taking care of the animals and helping to train the horses, and the daily needs of living. It felt so good, standing here and letting life go on around her.

It made her wish this moment could last forever—but bad or good, all things in life were dictated by the fickle hands of time. Even intangible things like love fell victim to it—love ebbed and waned, or at least it always had when it had come to the men in her life.

The only time that wasn’t true was when it came to her love for Winnie. To love a child was an incredible experience. They could drive her to the edges of madness, they could treat her worse than a stranger, and yet at the end of the day, all their trespasses could be forgiven with the whisper of I love you, or their scent on her skin. Christina hugged her arms around herself as she thought about how close those days could be to coming to an end.

“Is Waylon going to make it out of that bedroom alive?” Wyatt asked, pulling her from the pits of her thoughts.

“I—” she started but was cut off as Waylon appeared in the kitchen’s doorway, sadly without his sparkling tiara.

“Is there any tinfoil?” he asked, a childlike smile on his face.

Eloise opened up a drawer, pulled out a blue box and handed it over to Waylon. “You’re not going to make her dress up like leftovers, are you? Winnie isn’t going to go for the idea,” she said with a chuckle.

He raised the box like a wand. “No worries, I have this under control.”

“Is that army-speak for you are letting a two-and-a-half-year-old run you?” Wyatt asked with a raise of his brow and a thin smirk.

Waylon laughed, and his whole face lit up. His copper skin made the crow’s feet nearly invisible at the corners of his eyes, but if she looked closely, she could just make them out, almost as if they were a secret about him that was there only for her. She tried to control the drive she felt to move nearer to him, but as she stared, her desire intensified.

“Hey, now, I’ve let worse women control me. At least this one’s cute, she likes me and she enjoys having me around—it’s a lot more than I can say about some others,” Waylon joked, but as he looked at Christina, he shut his mouth like he wished he could have reeled the words back in. “I...I just mean...” he stammered. “Not that I meant Alli or anything.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she said, cutting him a little slack. “I have no room to judge anyone when it comes to relationships.”

She could have sworn she saw Eloise and Gwen share a look. They were wrong if they thought something was happening between her and Waylon. There weren’t any feelings between them—at least not any that came from Waylon—and her feelings were probably nothing more than her trying to come to terms with his new bond with Winnie. Regardless of whatever those two women were thinking, the only thing she and Waylon would share was the love they each felt toward one curly-haired two-year-old.

She turned away as Waylon brushed against her, making his way back to the girl. Where he had touched her burned with an unexpected and unwelcome heat, and she rubbed her arm as though she could make the feeling disappear by wiping it away.

The door to Winnie’s room clicked shut, and Wyatt peeked around the corner before turning back to everyone in the kitchen. “Have you told him yet?”

She glanced down at the floor, afraid that if she looked at Wyatt he would be able to read each confusing thought and feeling that ran through her.

“Don’t you think he has a right to know?” Wyatt pressed.

Eloise waved him off. “He has every right to know, but it’s already been nearly three years. What’s another few days?”

“He’s going to be furious when you tell him. He’s never going to understand. I know I wouldn’t,” Wyatt continued.

Gwen walked over to him and wrapped her arm around his. “This isn’t our choice, Wyatt.”

“That doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to be accountable when he learns the truth.” Wyatt put his hand on his fiancée’s and made small circles on the back of her skin.

The simple action made Christina want to hug herself tighter. Gwen was so lucky to have found love with one of the Fitz brothers. They all had their issues, but they were all good people, even Waylon—or rather, especially Waylon. She could only imagine how good it would feel to have him making small circles on her skin, especially after him merely brushing against her had almost brought her to her knees.

She forced herself to look away from the cute couple, reminding herself that as picturesque as they were, a relationship wasn’t what she wanted. Sure, it started out with flowers, sweet words and tender touches, but nothing that good lasted forever.

“If we tell him,” Eloise said, pulling her from her thoughts, “there will be no going back. Once the truth is out there, he’s going to have to make some major choices in his life. He’s innocent in all this. He has always done his best, and I’m sure if we tell him the truth, he will try to make the best choices he can. But who knows what those choices will be.”

Wyatt shook his head. “We can’t stand in his way.”

“I know,” Eloise said. “Right now, with all the uncertainty with Alli and what she may or may not do... Well, he’s already burdened enough. Don’t you think?”

“Give him more credit. He’s strong. He can handle the truth. And he needs to be able to make his own decisions.” Wyatt motioned toward the bedroom.

“No one is arguing that, Wyatt,” Christina said, trying to come to Eloise’s aid. “It’s just that we need to make sure he’s ready.”

“Come on,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “No one’s ever really ready to be a parent. Even if you think you are ready, it’s not until you’re thrown into the situation that you really know what you’re in for.”

Eloise smiled as she raised her brow. “Is there something you two need to tell us?” She rubbed a small circle on her lower belly.

Gwen’s mouth dropped open. “No... I... Not yet...” she stammered.

Wyatt chuckled. “Mom, come on. Don’t tease her.”

Eloise laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with me hoping for a few more grandchildren. It’s never too soon to start trying.” She gave them all a little wiggle of the finger. “Little Miss Winnie needs a partner in crime.”

Gwen’s face was bright red, and Wyatt had started to take on a sweaty sheen. Christina felt for them and the pressure the matron of the family was putting on them. At least she wasn’t in their shoes. She might be asked about her relationship status all the time—it was the curse of being over twenty-three and not married—but those questions were far easier to field when compared to talk about babies.

Thankfully, before any more uncomfortable questions, the door to Winnie’s room opened. They all went silent.

Waylon walked into the kitchen. He frowned. “What’s going on? Why are you guys so quiet?”

Eloise smiled. “What, kiddo? We aren’t being quiet. We were just waiting on you two rascals to be done playing around before we sit down to eat.” She motioned to the roast, once again taking control of the situation like a master.

Christina smiled. She could learn a few things from Eloise.

“Okay.” From the way Waylon stood there looking at his mother for a moment, it was easy to see he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press them further. He shook his head and turned away from them toward the hall. “If you are all ready, I’m proud to present Princess Leonia of Leo Land and her cat, Mr. Puffy Face.” He gave an over-the-top whirl of the hand and a deep, exaggerated bow.

He stood up and started to hum the theme song for the Miss America pageant. Christina couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. It was surreal to be watching the oh-so-handsome MP doing tongue trills for the entrance of a two-year-old.

Winnie marched into the kitchen. Her walk was more like the cowgirl she was instead of the princess she was pretending to be. She had on the pink Sleeping Beauty gown, her bandaged arm was wrapped with tinfoil to make it look like a clunky sword and she wore a foil crown. The crumpled and uneven crown had two large spikes Christina was sure were supposed to be purely decorative but looked conspicuously like devil horns.

Winnie had on bright pink lipstick that was smeared over her teeth as she smiled, and it was heavy on the left side of her mouth, like Waylon had pressed too hard while applying. Winnie smiled brightly, the motion filling her eyes with joy.

Oh, what it would have been to be a child once again, to find true, unadulterated joy in things most stodgy adults thought ridiculous. It would have been so nice to go back to those moments in life, where a thing like playing dress-up was all it took to forget one’s troubles. There were no concerns of what was to come, bills that needed to be paid or the things that were required to make another person happy. There was just one pink dress and one ill-fitting tinfoil crown.

Wyatt leaned in close so only Christina could hear him. “He isn’t perfect, neither is his life, but maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad dad after all.”

He hadn’t needed to tell her what she was already thinking. Some things—like the look of pride that Waylon was giving Winnie—spoke volumes about what it meant to truly love. And love was the only thing that really mattered.