Читать книгу Winning Over the Rancher - Mary Brady - Страница 12

KAYLEE FELT HER MUSCLES tense. She couldn’t budge, even to flee. Baylor approached where she stood by the burbling stream.

Stuff had come tumbling out of her mouth today, stuff that horrified her to hear out loud even if it was the truth.

The big rancher took another deliberate step, concentration suffusing his features.

He was coming—she knew he was—to grab her by the borrowed jacket collar and throw her off the ranch himself. And she’d be lucky if that’s all he did.

He took another step, and then he stopped and threw his head back and laughed.

She did a slow fish-mouthed gape. What the hell—heck—are you laughing at? hung frozen, unspoken, on her tongue.

“KayLee.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hated to be in a position to apologize, but there was nothing for this situation except to beg forgiveness and hope Baylor Doyle had a big…um…heart.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His sincere expression told her he wasn’t joking or being dismissive.

Relief sapped nearly all the energy from her legs. She leaned forward and put her hands on her wobbly knees and then straightened. “I know it’s—I’m so idiotic to…”

“KayLee.” He stopped her with a raised hand. “You will so fit in around here.”

“What?”

“It’s good to know you won’t be horrified by the goings-on at the ranch. There are fewer inhibitions way out here than people think—at least it’s true on this ranch.”

“Uh, it’s not the cow and horse sex is it?”

He made a face as if her words shocked him and laughed again.

She grabbed the sides of her borrowed knit hat and tugged it down until it hid her eyes. “I can’t believe I just said that. If you threw me out right now, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“It’d be easier to keep you than to try to explain to my family. Did you make everyone in Southern California blush?” He sounded too kind, and…well, maybe tolerant when he spoke.

She lifted the edge of the hat and blinked at him. “I didn’t. Really. I used to be sane and nice, even intelligent.”

Shade from the windblown pine branches flickered across his features. “You’re still nice. It’s all the things going on in your life that’re making you a little—”

“Extreme? Crazy? One brick short of a load?” She narrowed her eyes. “And what do you mean? All what that’s going on in my life? How much do you know about me?”

“More than you know about us, I’d wager.”

What had she said? She had practiced her presentation so often, she was sure she hadn’t dragged her personal life out for them all to examine. What had they done? She turned slowly away and stared into the partially ice-covered brook. The water flashed and coursed in plain view and then sometimes hid beneath a layer of snow-covered ice.

The sheriff trusted these people or he wouldn’t have sent her back…unless he was one of those bad cops from the movies and these people were all psycho. Too extreme? Yes, it was. She took a deep breath of the cold air to ground herself.

If she had stepped into a horror movie, she wasn’t going to wait until some dark night to find out. She’d demand of Baylor what was up and judge his reaction. She could only hope he didn’t pull out a chainsaw from his back pocket.

Cold seeped trough the toes of her shoes and the seams of the well-worn brown jacket. She started to shiver, but she faced Baylor. “How much do you know about me and how?”

He reached into his jacket pocket.

Oh, God.

He studied her for a long second and then produced a battered old red camera.

“You’re cold—” he handed her the camera “—but I thought you might like to take a couple photos before we get in the truck.”

“It’s not a chainsaw,” she said as she breathed out a sigh.

“No. I keep all my gas-powered tools in my work-coat pocket,” he said very seriously.

She did so deserve to be mocked, but it was better than being thrown out.

She scanned his face and the sincere expression warmed her and then she shivered harder. She didn’t know how much was cold and how much was mortification, but she took the camera. “Thank you.”

Grateful to have a diversion, she started clicking photos of the stand of trees, of the clearing where the other cabins would be built, of the stream and forest, of the mountains against the blue sky. The more she shot, the more excited she became, and the colder, until her hands shook too much to get a decent picture.

“Ready?” He held a hand out in the direction of the truck.

When they were settled in the toasty cab he shifted to face her. “We checked into all the viable bidders’ backgrounds.”

“Ah.”

“Checking out candidates seemed prudent.”

“And you’re still willing to give me a chance.” Awe and wonder filled her, and then her mind spun with the possibilities of what the investigator might have found. “I think I’m going to accept that for now, but I might never want to know what you discovered.”

“To my family, you seemed the most…human I guess.”

“I…um…try.”

“They trust you and I’ve decided to listen to them.”

“I had the feeling trusting me was difficult for you.” She drew her lips inward. “I won’t disappoint you, Baylor Doyle, because you’re a good man.”

He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Thank you for everything.” KayLee closed her eyes briefly and imagined the happy feelings filtering down toward her baby. Everything that was good in her life, she tried to share with her unborn child.

She noted his expression and tried to figure out what he might be thinking. “You could have given me such a hard time for opening my mouth about being attracted to you.”

“Still might.”

“Or take advantage of me.”

“Still might.”

It was her turn to laugh and she did and then faced the window when new tears formed in her eyes.

“Do you cry all the time?” he asked.

“Pretty much.” She sniffed.

“Isn’t that normal?”

“Normal? Nothing about me is normal, if normal is the way I was before I was pregnant.” Her breath steamed the window as she spoke.

“Here.” He reached around and handed her a large soft hankie with a red-and-white paisley pattern, the kind she used to wear as a scarf, but this one was softer and the color had faded so much, it must have been washed a million times.

She blew her nose and dabbed her eyes.

“Thanks.” She tucked the hankie in the pocket of the jacket. She’d have to remember to take it out and wash it.

“Amy cried for seven months straight before she gave birth to little Trey two years ago,” he said, his voice kind and soft and she so appreciated the gesture of comfort. “Good news, though, KayLee.”

She sniffed again. “What’s that?”

“Now she only cries when she’s sad.”

“That’s good.”

“Or when she’s happy.”

She laughed again. Baylor Doyle made her laugh. Not much did these days and she loved him for it—well, liked him for it. When she pivoted in her seat, he was still facing her, arms folded, hat pushed back so golden curls framed his face.

She had never seen anything that looked as good as he did at that moment. Trouble. Sexy and roguish at the same time. A bad boy. Deep trouble.

“I can do this job and you will like what I’ve done.” She smiled and placed a hand on her belly. “Now, I need to get back to town and get some rest.”

“The family will want to say goodbye before you leave.”

When they got back to the ranch house, the Doyles, including three children, had gathered in the kitchen to see her off.

Holly and Lance introduced their two-year-old daughter, Katie, and a five-year-old son, Matt.

“Hi, Katie. Hi, Matt,” KayLee said. Katie grinned and hid behind her father’s leg. Matt stuck out his hand and she shook it.

From the other side of the butcher block island Seth and Amy introduced her to their shy two-year-old son, Trey. Amy held the frail-looking boy in her arms, and he kept his head on her shoulder.

Evvy hugged her, and Curtis shook her hand. “Thank you for working so hard on this project for us,” he said. This must have been where Baylor got his blue eyes.

“Don’t be fooled by all this, KayLee.” With the sweep of his hand, Baylor included every Doyle in the room. “We all have our company manners on.”

“Speak for yourself,” Holly shot back. “I’m always nice.”

“You are, Mommy,” the red-haired boy beside her said. “Can I have pie now?”

Curtis laughed. “You keep it up, boy,” he said to the child. “You never know what you’ll get by asking.”

“Thanks, a lot, Dad.”

“So, can I?” Matthew patted his mother on the arm.

Holly made a fierce face at her father-in-law and was met with grandfatherly innocence.

“After dinner, sweetie. If you’re hungry now I’ll get you an apple.”

“Me, too,” Katie cried and jumped out into the open.

While the other children romped, blond, curly-haired Trey sat quietly in his mother’s arms and seemed to get more attention than he needed. KayLee knew she’d be like that. The first-child syndrome.

“I’m glad you’re going to work for us,” Evvy said from the table where she had taken a seat.

“Me, too,” said Amy.

“We all are,” Holly added, as she washed an apple at the sink.

The brothers and sisters-in-law all looked to Baylor.

He shook his head. “Yes, we all are.”

“Is she your girlfriend, Uncle Baylor?” Matt asked, accepting an apple slice from his mother.

“She’s going to build more houses here on the ranch,” Holly said to distract the boy.

“Wow. Real houses.”