Читать книгу The Rancher Takes A Family - Judy Christenberry - Страница 10

“SHE’s already in bed. Is there a problem?”

Debra stared at John’s worried face. Had she done something wrong?

“I’ll go check on her,” he said.

She stepped in his way. “I thought maybe you’d all like to shower and change into clean clothes before dinner.”

“What’s wrong? Don’t we smell pretty enough for you?”

Her back stiffened, but her voice remained calm. “I was only thinking of your comfort.”

“Well, I might have clean clothes here, but the others don’t,” he snapped.

She already knew the answer to her question, but she let her eyes widen with innocence. “You mean all the laundry I did today was yours?”

He started to speak but promptly shut his mouth and stared at her. Finally he said, “You did all the laundry today?”

“Yes.” She walked into the mudroom where she heard the other cowboys and her uncle. She told the men, “I divided the clothes into stacks by size, since I didn’t know what belonged to each of you.” She gestured toward the shower stall. “I thought you might be more comfortable if you showered and dressed in clean clothes that you could put on again in the morning and work in. Does that seem like a good idea to you?” Without awaiting their answer, she continued. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll put dinner on the table.”

The men all nodded and immediately grabbed their clean clothes. Debra delicately withdrew and pulled the door behind her. Only John was on this side of the door.

He stood there against the wall, his arms crossed over his wide chest, his blue eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Very clever of you, getting them on your side.”

Swallowing a retort, she turned her back on him and walked into the kitchen.

Once there, she drew a deep breath. She’d worked hard all day, but it was work she loved. The best part was that she’d had Andy and Betsy for company. The entire day had been so much better than her life in Kansas that she’d decided the thing to do was to make the best of the situation and see where it led.

But John apparently wasn’t going to make it easy.

She began putting the meal on the table. The centerpiece was a giant roast beef she’d cooked until tender, flanked by bowls of gravy, homemade biscuits, whipped potatoes, broccoli and red beans.

Just as everything was in place, the door to the mudroom opened and four men emerged. She moved to the kitchen door and extended her hand to the two men she hadn’t formally met. They were both young, in their early twenties, but they looked strong. “Hello, I’m Debra. Welcome to my kitchen,” she said with a smile.

The men introduced themselves, but she could tell they were distracted by the large amounts of food ready for them. All she did was nod in the direction of the table and the four men took their seats and dug in, no doubt ravenous after their workday.

“Man, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten, Miz Richey.”

“Thank you, Mikey, but please, call me Debra.”

“I’ll call you anything you want for a meal like this,” the cowboy returned.

“Debra will be fine, Mikey,” she said through a smile.

“Thank you for the clean clothes, too,” Jess added between bites.

“My pleasure. If you’re in the saddle all day, I don’t see how you’ve managed to get anything else done. I’d be exhausted.”

“True,” Jess said as he buttered a biscuit. “And we’re mighty grateful to you.”

Those two were completely won over, Debra thought. Unfortunately, her husband wasn’t. She noted that John’s face was growing stormier every moment. He obviously hadn’t counted on her doing her job. He’d immediately gone up to check on Betsy before his shower. Did he think she hadn’t taken care of her? Who could resist such a sweet baby?

When the men had finished, Debra asked if they’d like a roast beef sandwich to take with them in the morning, since they didn’t come in for lunch. She immediately got a pleased reception to her idea.

John, however, said, “Maybe you don’t realize that you have to have breakfast ready at six.”

“I assumed you started to work early, John,” she said calmly.

“My idea of ‘early’ isn’t nine o’clock.”

She ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “For the last three years I’ve been getting up at four-thirty for work, so six o’clock will be sleeping in for me.” Take that, cowboy! She punctuated her reply with a verbal punch but kept it to herself. This man certainly had a lot to learn if he thought she’d run screaming from hard work.

John was quiet as she cleared the table and put a homemade chocolate cake in the middle. “Would anyone care for dessert?” she asked, her voice as sweet as the frosting.

Not even John said no. He didn’t, however, join the men in their rousing praise for her good cooking.

When she began the cleanup, the men actually brought their dishes to the sink, a courtesy she hadn’t expected. She warmly thanked them and suggested they go to the family room and relax.

With the dishwasher, the cleanup only took a few minutes. She swept the floor and wiped down the counters, then performed a visual check to be sure the kitchen was immaculate before she went to the mudroom to launder their dirty clothes.

As she was loading the washing machine, she felt someone staring at her. Spinning around, she found John at the door.

“You don’t have to do that tonight. You’ve already worked hard enough.” He glanced away from her as he spoke.

“Actually, the machine does all the work…unless the noise will bother you.”

“No, but—” He kept his head down, as if the toes of his boots were worthy of intense study. “Listen, I was rude this morning. You did all the work anyway. I owe you an apology.”

So there was a human under all that bluster, she thought, barely suppressing a smile. Maybe Uncle Bill was right and John just needed some time to get used to the idea of marriage again. And, she had to admit, it felt good to be appreciated for what she’d done. No one had ever made her feel that way, especially her mother.

“I think Uncle Bill may have misled both of us,” she said. “But now you know I’m a hard worker, and I appreciate the benefits.”

Something she’d said upset him, she realized at once. His head shot up and his back stiffened. Before she could inquire, he turned back on those boot heels and walked away.

Debra stood there, laundry in hand. What had she said to chase away the new and improved John Richey? Whatever it was, it had cost her an opportunity to make peace with her new husband, and she regretted it. When, she wondered, would she get another chance?

John appreciated the well-cooked meal and the clean clothes, but that didn’t reconcile him to his second marriage. Especially since his new wife was counting on reaping the “benefits.” So she thought she could get a lot of nice things out of him like Elizabeth had? Well, she thought wrong.

Betsy seemed at peace, too. She was clean and sweet-smelling and sound asleep. Still, she’d wake up at four in the morning, as usual, and he’d feed her the 4:00 a.m. bottle, as usual. He loved feeling that warm little body in his arms, loved knowing she was totally dependent on him. It was Betsy who had pulled him out of his bout of bitterness and hate for Elizabeth.

It would always be Betsy who kept him on the straight and narrow, working to make his ranch successful. She deserved the best.

If they had a good crop of bull calves this season, he could escape some of the crippling debt Elizabeth had saddled him with. He’d been so in love with her he’d provided more than he should have, more than he could afford. But he’d wanted to make Elizabeth happy.

In return, she’d made him miserable and deeply in debt.

As he stared at the television in the family room with the others, he gritted his teeth. He was never going to let a woman do that to him again.

“John?”

His head snapped up. Debra was standing at the end of the couch, staring at him. “What?”

“May I speak to you for a moment?”

With the others, especially Bill, around him, he had no choice but to acquiesce.

Following Debra into the kitchen—a completely clean kitchen, he realized—he prepared himself for her demands. “What do you want?”

“I need a few things from the grocery store. Is there a car I can borrow, and do you have an account at the store or will you give me money?”

“I should’ve known. The kitchen is full of food! You haven’t been here twenty-four hours and already you’re demanding money!”

He expected her to try flirting to get her way, followed by crying. That was the pattern his first wife had used many times.

Instead, after staring at him for several seconds, she simply left the room.

After a moment, he followed her, sure she was going to plead her case with her uncle.

But when he entered the family room, there was no sign of her. “Did Debra come through here?” he asked.

Bill looked up in surprise. “She said good-night and went upstairs.”

John was stunned. Why hadn’t she pressed him? Come to think of it, Elizabeth had never asked for groceries. Her requests had always been personal. Was the kitchen missing some key ingredient Debra needed?

After pacing the room for several minutes, ignored by his men, he decided to go upstairs and find her. That was probably her plan, anyway.

The hallway was dark, but he saw a light shining under one door. That must be the bedroom she’d chosen for her own. He rapped on the door.

A soft voice answered, “Who is it?”

“It’s John.”

After a hesitation that irritated him, she opened the door about an inch. “I’m getting ready for bed, John. What do you want?”

“What did you want at the grocery store?”

She sighed. “I wanted to get some baby cereal and some chocolate chips for making cookies.”

“Baby cereal? Why do you want baby cereal?”

“I’m guessing Betsy is at least nine months old. She should be eating cereal in the morning and adding solid foods during her meals. It will mean she’ll sleep through the night.”

“She will? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Haven’t you taken her to the doctor for her checkups?”

“She went while Elizabeth— She went early on, but I didn’t see any need. She’s healthy!”

“Yes, I know. But he would’ve advised you about her feedings, if you had.”

“So you mean baby food? Those little bottles?”

“Well, I can make a few things. I wasn’t going to ask for too much at once. I wanted the chocolate chips to make cookies for Andy and to put in your lunches.”

John put up his hand to stop her. “The car’s in the garage. The key is on one of the hooks by the door. Sign the receipt at the general store and Charlie will put it on my account.” He turned away and walked down the hall to the stairs.

So she really wanted groceries…. She was probably starting out slowly, hoping to lull him into acceptance, said a warning voice inside his head. Not Elizabeth’s style, but you couldn’t trust a woman. Any woman.

No one was late for breakfast the next morning. Maybe they were encouraged by visions of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and hot biscuits with jam that she’d found in the pantry, along with hot coffee.

Debra had gotten up at five-fifteen so she’d been able to make their lunches, too. The bags were all ready, sitting on the kitchen cabinet for them when they finished their breakfast. Of course, since March in Wyoming was cold, their lunches wouldn’t be warm, but they would be filling. She was proud of the food she’d provided. She couldn’t imagine going all day, working as hard as these men did, without lunch.

“This is great, Debra,” Bill said with a big smile. “Especially the hot biscuits.”

“I’m glad you like everything, Uncle Bill.”

Jess and Mikey paused, then Mikey asked, “He really is your uncle?”

“Yes, of course,” Debra replied while her uncle protested. “Why wouldn’t you believe that I’m Bill’s niece?”

“Well,” Jess said with a wink, “’cause you’re lots prettier than him and you cook tons better.”

Everyone but John laughed.

“Thank you for the compliments, but everyone has talents in different areas. Otherwise, life would be very dull.”

As they filed out of the kitchen, Debra handed each of them his lunch. John was the last to leave and he didn’t even pause. “No, thank you.”

“You might as well take it since I’ve already made it for you.” She held out the bag.

He glowered and hesitated. She held her breath, hoping he’d take it. Somehow it seemed important to her, as if his taking the lunch would be an act of approval.

“I don’t have time for lunch,” he muttered, and walked out of the house.

Debra stood there, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t expected her new life to be easy, had she? Of course not. The best thing she could do was her job. Keep the house clean, cook and take care of Betsy, as well as Andy.

And not expect anything else. Especially not a husband.

She put the load of clothes in the dryer and then went upstairs to wake Andy. “Honey, it’s time to get up and come eat breakfast.”

“I want to stay in bed,” Andy protested. “Eileen let me stay in bed as long as I wanted.”

Which explained why she’d always had trouble getting him to bed in the evenings, she thought. She’d always assumed her son required less sleep. But, as usual, her mother had chosen the easiest path.

“There’s no Eileen here, my dear. I’ll put your clothes out while you go wash your face. Get dressed and come to the kitchen. I’ll have breakfast ready.”

She gently propelled her son into the bathroom. After she laid out his clothes, she went into Betsy’s room. The baby was just stirring, stretching and yawning.

“Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well? First, I’ll change your diaper, then we’ll have breakfast. After that, you get a bath. If you’re not too modest, I’ll let Andy help. Then we’ll go grocery shopping. How does that sound?”

As if she approved, Betsy smiled at her. Her whole face lit up and her eyes gleamed. She had the same eyes as her father, sea-blue, only his never sparkled in a smile.

Debra shrugged her shoulders and changed Betsy’s diaper. Time to get things done, not think about John.

“How was Betsy this morning?” Bill asked John as they rode out a short time later.

John jerked back on his reins, startling his horse. Staring at Bill, he frantically searched his brain. “She—she didn’t wake me up! Damn, she’s probably sick or something. I’ve got to go back. I’ll catch up with you!” he called over his shoulder as he urged his horse back toward the barn. All the way, he was telling himself he was the worst daddy in the world to leave his child without being sure she was all right.

He rode right up to the back door of the house and tied his horse to the limb of a tree nearby.

Opening the back door, he ran into the kitchen where he heard voices. There he found his baby daughter sitting in a high chair, babbling away and banging her fist on the tray.

“Just a minute, sweetie,” Debra called over her shoulder. She set a plate of scrambled eggs on the table in front of Andy and gave Betsy a bottle.

Andy leaned forward and whispered something John couldn’t hear, but he gathered the little boy mentioned his presence because Debra’s gaze flew to him. “John? Is something wrong?”

As if hearing his name alerted Betsy, she began cooing and waving her arms. “I think your daughter is trying to say hello.”

John crossed to the high chair. “Hello, Betsy. Did you miss Daddy?” He picked her up and kissed her cheek.

“Um, she hasn’t had her bath yet, so she may not smell too good. I thought it best to bathe her after breakfast.”

“That’s fine. But she didn’t wake me up at 4:00 a.m. as usual. I was afraid something was wrong.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I told you. Solid food stays with the baby longer and helps her to sleep through the night.”

“That’s really all it took? I didn’t believe— What did you feed her?”

“Last night I fed her some whipped potatoes.”

“She might’ve choked on that!” John exclaimed.

“The spoonfuls were very small, John. I’ve fed a baby before.”

“Yeah, but—”

“If you want me to wait until I take her to the doctor, I will. It’s your choice.”

“No, I guess— When are you going to the grocery store?”

“After breakfast and Betsy’s bath. I didn’t think he’d open before eight o’clock.”

“Her baby seat is in the car. Make sure you strap her in.” He settled his daughter in her high chair again. “Be careful. Don’t drive too fast.”

“No, I won’t.”

He stared at her. “Am I acting like an idiot?”

“Just a little bit,” Debra said with a smile. His obvious love for his child was very attractive and made it easy to forgive his difficult behavior toward her.

“Fine. Just—just get her home safely.”

“I will, I promise.”

John remounted and joined his crew, but his worries continued to dominate his thoughts. It was the first time someone else had taken Betsy anywhere.

Debra was unusually nervous when she drove the Cadillac Escalade to Westlake’s general store. She’d never been in such an expensive vehicle. It seemed foolish to Debra to pay for such a costly truck just to be sure Betsy was safe.

It appeared the store owner agreed with her. “I couldn’t believe when John ordered this here car for his wife,” Charlie said. “Man, these things cost a fortune.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard. But I guess it’s water under the bridge.”

“I don’t know about that. He could sure sell it and pay off some debts.”

“Would he get a lot for it?”

“Sure. He’s hardly driven it since his wife died.”

“Maybe he’ll decide to do that. Thanks for your help with the groceries.”

“Glad to do it. You’ve got your hands full with two little ones. Did you get everything you need?”

“I think so. Whatever Mrs. Richey did, she certainly organized and stocked the kitchen well.”

“Shoot, that wasn’t Mrs. Richey. John had a housekeeper after he got married. Mrs. Richey insisted. But she left just before Mrs. Richey died. The lady of the house was unhappy with her work and fired her. Just as well. John couldn’t afford her salary with all the debt he’d incurred, anyway.”

“I hope she found another job.”

“Sure she did. A good cook can always find a job.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Thanks again for your help.”

Debra had a lot to think about as she drove home. Why hadn’t John sold the Escalade? His wife wasn’t here to use it. She certainly didn’t need it. She could drive John’s or Bill’s truck whenever she needed to go to town.

This trip to town was certainly productive, she thought as she eyed the big box in the back. John wouldn’t be upset that she’d bought Betsy a playpen, would he? After all, the baby could already pull herself up and would learn to walk if she had a safe place to try.

She could crawl around on the rug in the family room if someone was in there with her, but if Debra was to complete all her chores, she couldn’t watch the baby every minute. And Andy was too young for that responsibility. But he could watch Sesame Street and keep Betsy company if she was in the playpen.

As soon as they got home, Debra sat on the floor, with Betsy right beside her, and put together the playpen. Andy thought he was helping when he handed his mother the screws. It may have slowed down the process a little, but she believed in building a child’s self-esteem, even if it took a little lie now and then.

Soon she had Betsy in the new playpen and Andy on the sofa watching the television. She did chores until it was time to fix lunch, which reminded her that John hadn’t taken a sandwich like the other men. He would be starving. She planned her evening menu accordingly.

Both kids went down for a nap in the afternoon and she cleaned the big, beautiful house. Then she did some baking after they woke up. Andy loved baking cookies with her. Truth be told, she probably enjoyed it more than he did. Even Betsy was enthusiastic, joining in their laughter. While the cookies baked, Debra sat and spoke to the baby, helping her make sounds and try to make words.

The easiest one was Da-da. Debra wasn’t sure the baby knew she was naming her father, but she thought it would be fun for John. She could clearly remember the first time Andy called her Ma-ma.

Andy sat down for a cookie as soon as it cooled, the chocolate chips soft and gooey. She enjoyed a cookie, too, but more than that she relished this precious time with her son. If she’d been back in Kansas City, she’d just be getting home from the diner and no doubt be exhausted and looking forward to bed.

“Why can’t Betsy have a cookie, Mommy?” Andy asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Because chocolate isn’t good for babies, Andy. She’ll have to grow more teeth before she can eat chips, anyway.”

“But I like them!” Andy said.

“I know, honey. Betsy will, too, when she gets a little older. Oh, I need to feed the two of you so you can have your bath and go to bed before the men come in.”

“Why don’t I get to stay up and see the cowboys?”

“You will, honey, but right now they’re getting in late, too late for you to eat your dinner. After calving season, you’ll see a lot of them.”

“What’s calving season?”

“That’s when the mama cows have their babies.” When her son opened his mouth to ask more questions, she hurriedly said, “No, no more questions. I have too much to do right now.”

Once the children were in bed, she began preparing dinner, trying to fix dishes she thought John would like. Which was hard to do since she didn’t know any of his likes or dislikes.

Why did she keep thinking about the man?

He was driving her crazy.

She couldn’t possibly be attracted to him, could she? Well, she was sympathetic. She understood the anger he felt toward his first wife. She’d felt some anger toward her first husband, such as he was. But she wasn’t going to be hurt now. She was going to concentrate on her job and the children.

And one angry man.