Читать книгу Midnight Rider - Joanna Wayne - Страница 11

Chapter Two

One Week Later

“How about passing that potato salad before Leif goes back for seconds and doesn’t leave any for the rest of us?” Travis joked.

“Look who’s talking,” Leif said as he handed down the serving bowl. “You’ve been hogging the platter of fried chicken like a starving man.”

“That’s ’cause I had him out baling hay all afternoon,” Adam said. “Nothing like a little ranch work to build up an appetite.”

“Save room for the apple pie à la mode,” Hadley said. “I made it myself and I’ll be insulted if there’s a bite left on a dish.”

“Ice cream!” four-year-old Lacy added. She pushed her plate back. “I want mine now.”

“Me, too,” R.J. said, “but I better clean my plate first. You better eat a few more bites of dinner, too.”

R.J. smiled and leaned back in his chair. There was a time not so many months ago that he’d have been sitting at this table all alone. Or passed out somewhere skunk drunk. Now he was alcohol-free, thankful to be surrounded by family. Best medicine in the world for a dying man.

He didn’t have much of an appetite these days, even though his daughters-in-law Hadley and Faith had become dadgum good cooks. His third daughter-in-law, Joni, was too busy being the best dang vet in the state of Texas to spend much time in the kitchen.

Besides, he suspected she might be pregnant. She’d turned green and rushed away from the breakfast table a couple of days ago and she’d developed a little swell in the belly. He wouldn’t ask. She’d tell them all when she was ready.

It had been over a year now since the neurosurgeon had given R.J. the death sentence. A malignant, inoperable brain tumor that would eventually take his life. For some miraculous reason, the tumor had decided to slow down a bit and give R.J. time to enjoy his family—the family he’d never bothered to get to know when he was drinking and carousing like the SOB he’d been for most of his life.

He’d given little thought to contacting his estranged kids until the grim reaper had looked him square in the eye and chuckled. But getting to know Adam, Leif and Travis and their families had given his life more meaning than he’d thought possible. Why, already there had been three weddings on the Dry Gulch Ranch. Fortunately, none of them his. Four weddings were enough for any one man.

Still, with each passing day, the longing grew stronger to connect with his other three children. So far, no luck there. His youngest son, Cannon, was either too resentful or too busy with his bull riding to give R.J. the time of day.

His daughter, Jade, was the baby of the family, though she was in her early twenties now. The only times he’d seen her was when she came to the ranch for the reading of the will. She hadn’t cared much for his requirement that a beneficiary would have to spend a year living on and helping work the Dry Gulch Ranch to get a share in his estate. Hadn’t seemed too pleased that he’d had the reading of the will while he was still breathing, either.

Had let him know it, too, in no uncertain terms. As feisty a hellcat as her mother had been. The ranch had never offered enough excitement for Kiki. Apparently it didn’t for their daughter, Jade, either.

And that left his oldest son, Jake, rich Texas rancher and oilman. The wealth inherited from his mother’s side of the family. Jake had everything a man could want. Fancy cars. Private jets. Gorgeous women half his age draped across him in every picture of him that appeared on the society pages of the Dallas Morning News.

Jake had moved on so far he couldn’t even see R.J. in his mind’s rearview mirror. No doubt his mother had done the same. Stupidest mistake R.J. had ever made was letting her walk away. He wondered what she was like now. He still pictured her as young and beautiful as she’d been at eighteen when they’d married. Best-looking girl in the small country high school they’d attended. Hell, she was probably the best-looking girl in all of Texas back then.

The doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting company tonight?” Faith asked.

“Nope,” R.J. said. “Probably a neighbor stopping by.”

“I’ll get it,” Adam offered, already scooting back from the table.

“You just keep eatin’,” R.J. said. “I need a little exercise. Old bones get stiff if I sit too long.”

He held on to the edge of the table for extra support as he stood. Never knew when one of those dizzy spells would hit. He ambled to the door, taking his time about it. The doorbell rang again.

“Hold your horses. I’m coming.”

He swung open the door and stared into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He took in the rest of the stranger, enjoying the tour. He might be near dead. But just because he couldn’t sample the wares didn’t mean he couldn’t window-shop.

“You must be lost,” he said, sure he’d never seen the tall, willowy strawberry blonde before.

“Is this the Dry Gulch Ranch?”

“Was the last time I looked at the sign over the gate.”

“Are you R. J. Dalton?”

“Yep. You’re batting a thousand so far.”

“Then I’m not lost.”

A baby whimpered.

R.J. followed the sound to a baby carrier resting on the porch, next to the stranger’s right foot. The young woman reached down and grabbed the handle, lifting the carrier so that he could see the adorable infant peeking from beneath a yellow blanket. The baby kicked and made a few boxing moves with its tiny fists.

“And who might this be?” R.J. asked.

“This is your three-month-old granddaughter, Kimmie.”

“My granddaughter. Well, don’t that just beat all?”

“Yes, it does.” She pushed the carrier toward him. When he didn’t take it, she set it on the floor inside the door.

“Come on in,” R.J. urged, opening the door even wider.

“No, thank you. I’m just here to drop off Kimmie.”

“What do you mean drop her off?”

“Just that. I’m leaving her in your care.”

“You can’t do that. I’m a sick man. I can’t take care of a baby.” Had never done that when he was young and healthy.

“Then I suggest you hire someone to take care of her or call your son Cannon and tell him to stop by and pick up his daughter.”

So Cannon was playing around with more than bulls. A chip off the old block. But the old block had made a lifetime of mistakes.

“Why don’t you go tell Cannon that yourself?”

“I don’t have time at the moment to go chasing down some irresponsible bull rider.”

Apparently not time to raise her child, either.

She pulled a business card and an envelope from her pocket. “If Cannon has questions, he can reach me at this number. Inside the envelope, you’ll find everything you need to know about caring for Kimmie.”

“I’m gonna need a lot more than some notes.”

“Yes, you’ll need this to get you started.” The woman slid a large canvas tote from her shoulder and handed it to him, as well. “There’s formula, bottles, diapers and a few changes of clothing inside.”

“You got a momma for her in there, too?”

The woman didn’t answer, but he could swear those striking blue eyes of hers were moist when she turned and walked away.

She stopped just before she reached her car. “I play classical music for Kimmie when she gets fussy. It calms her down.”

There was a definite quiver in her voice but no hesitation as she got into her car and drove away.

Once her taillights disappeared, R.J. took a look at the card she’d pressed into his left hand.

Brittany Garner, Homicide Detective, Houston Police Department.

Cannon sure knew how to pick them. Gorgeous, sexy and she could handle a weapon. All good traits in a woman—unless she turned the gun on you.

R.J. was still staring at the newest addition to the family when his daughter-in-law Hadley joined him at the door. She stopped and stared at the baby. “Oh, my gosh. Look how adorable.”

Hadley reached down, unbuckled the baby from her chair and picked her up, all the while gushing baby talk.

“Hello, little sweetie. Did you just drop from heaven and land at our door?”

“Something like that,” R.J. said.

Hadley’s eyebrows arched. She dropped the baby talk. “What are you talking about? Who is this?”

“Name’s Kimmie, or so her mother said.”

“Who’s her mother?”

“Apparently a lady cop.”

“What do you mean apparently? You must know whose baby this is?” Hadley walked to the door and looked out. “Where is her mom?”

“Gone back to Houston, I s’pect.”

“Without her baby? What’s going on here?”

“Supposedly this is my granddaughter.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Allegedly, it’s Cannon, but I bet he’s gonna be as surprised about this as we are.”

R.J. smiled in spite of the situation. Not the ideal bargaining tool, but it was one way to get Cannon back to the Dry Gulch Ranch. His neighbor Caroline Lambert was right. God sure worked in mysterious ways.