Читать книгу A Texas Holiday Reunion - Shannon Vannatter Taylor - Страница 12
ОглавлениеColson watched her do the math and saw the moment she realized he’d fathered a child out of wedlock. But he hadn’t realized during their brief relationship that he had a pregnant ex-girlfriend waiting in the wings.
More worrisome than Resa believing he was on shaky moral ground would be if she recognized the truth in Cheyenne’s eyes.
“Your folks never told you?”
“We don’t really talk about you.” Resa’s mouth formed a tight line. “I’ve been much too busy to keep up with your life.”
Of course. “Can you say hello, Cheyenne?” The little girl didn’t budge—nor make a sound. She was back in her shell. He should have known uprooting her might be jarring.
“Shouldn’t she be in school?”
“She only turned five last month, so she won’t start kindergarten until next fall. Missing a few weeks of preschool before Christmas break won’t hurt anything.” He’d just reinforced the fact that only a matter of months after he’d romanced Resa, Felicity had given birth to Cheyenne. A child he’d thought was his.
He saw her swallow hard. A bitter pill?
“She’s a great kid. Won’t be any trouble.”
“My only concern is you being distracted by work and her wandering off.”
Back to business. “She won’t. Dad’s wife agreed to babysit. Annette’s really good with her.” Colson’s gaze went back to Cheyenne. “She’s everything to me.”
“I can see that.” Resa turned toward the barn. “I better get back to my office.”
“What time does the store open?”
“Ten. But my office is here.”
“Here?” As in at her house? He hadn’t seen that coming.
“In the barn.” She gestured to the door she’d almost taken him out with.
“You design furniture for Rusticks—in the barn?” He’d thought it odd when he’d seen the huge picture window on the back of the wood structure.
She chuckled. “I’m not really the corporate, windowless-office type. I have a conference room at the store where I meet with clients. But I do my drafting and designing here.” Her gaze went past the fence to the horses grazing in the distance, the massive expanse of clear blue sky. “The sounds of the ranch, the smells.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m inspired here.”
This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. The reasons he shouldn’t be here just kept stacking up. He’d expected her to be at the store from dawn to dusk. Instead, she’d be right here with a massive window on his world. On his daughter.
Lord, don’t let her see what I see when I look into Cheyenne’s eyes.
But did he see the evidence only because he knew the truth? He’d been clueless for several years. Maybe Resa would be, too.
He’d held on to this secret too long for it all to fall apart now.
“See ya later.” She opened the barn door, stepped inside.
Would working in such close proximity stir up his old feelings for her? He’d just have to man up and make sure it didn’t.
Because no matter how beautiful she was, how vulnerable or how caring, she was a woman. And women couldn’t be trusted.
Not when she represented a very real and present danger for Cheyenne. And at all costs, he had to protect his daughter.
“Ready to go inside, princess?” He strode to the fence, sidled up beside her. Baby shampoo and innocence untied the knots in his insides.
“Un-uh, Daddy.” Dark silky hair tumbled with a decisive shake of her head.
And hearing her call him Daddy melted him like butter.
“See how big that mare’s belly is.”
Huge blue eyes met his—a tinge of fear in their depths. “Is there a baby in there?”
“There sure is. She should have a foal sometime while we’re here.”
“I don’t wanna pet it.” Her chin trembled.
He scooped her up. “You don’t have to. But it’ll be really small, so you might change your mind.”
“I won’t.” Her arms locked around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder.
“It’s up to you, princess.” If only he could take away her fear. Take away her memories. No child should watch her father kill her mother.
* * *
The blueprints blurred and Resa’s traitorous gaze bounced up to the window.
Colson was holding her now. The little girl’s knees were clamped at his waist, arms tight around his shoulders, her face hidden in his neck. He had a child.
How had she not known that?
Because her parents knew how badly he’d hurt her, and his name had been off-limits since she’d learned he’d married Felicity.
She should have at least said hi to the little girl. But she’d been too shocked to think. And the child had never even looked her way, she’d just focused on the mare. So quiet and withdrawn. Was she shy, or somehow traumatized by her mother’s death?
Colson kissed the top of his daughter’s head and Resa’s heart did a flip. Why did a cowboy with a little girl make her go all warm and fuzzy?
Because he wasn’t just any cowboy.
The Bonanza theme song started up on her cell phone. Mom.
“Hey. Are you on the boat yet?”
“About to board.” She sounded happy. “All our guests got home safely?”
“I haven’t heard any different.”
“It was so nice seeing everyone. Everything okay there? Emmett’s not giving you trouble?”
The least of her worries and long gone. “Everything’s fine.” Except Juan’s having surgery. Colson is here to take his place. And he has a daughter y’all never warned me about. But if they knew any of that, they’d be on the first plane back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“I know you do. Your father and I have complete confidence in you.”
“So, stop worrying about me and have fun. I love you.”
“I love you. Your father wants to say hi.”
“Hey, Dad. Go have fun. And don’t call me again.”
His warm chuckle eased her tense shoulders. “Don’t you want to know when we get on the boat?”
“Text me pictures. But don’t check in. Everything’s fine here. Enjoy your cruise. I love you. And goodbye.”
“I love you, Miss Bossypants.”
“You’re the one who left me in charge.” She ended the call, looked back to the window.
Deep, rich laughter. Colson held his daughter belly up, tickling her tummy. She writhed and cackled with glee. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so withdrawn, after all. At least not with her father.
The realization that Cheyenne even existed was still sinking in.
Maybe tonight, Resa would fix them a meal, make a point to get to know the child and prove to Colson she really was over him.
* * *
It was suppertime, but food was the last thing on Colson’s mind. He’d let Cheyenne spend an hour with him this morning to get her acclimated to their temporary home. But his day had stretched long after Annette retrieved her. His heart did triple time as he let himself in the McCalls’ house, the way it always did when he’d been away from his daughter, even if only for a few hours.
Last night he’d seen that the house was much as he remembered. Large, but not as grand as the McCalls could have afforded. Massive beams, rustic design, a veritable showroom full of Rustick’s furnishings. A lot like his dad’s. He could hear Dad’s voice, Annette’s, and a child’s giggle that warmed him from the inside out.
Cheyenne lay on the yellow pine floor, her dark curtain of hair framing her face, a frown of concentration there as she colored a princess’s hair pink. Dad and Annette were smiling on from the nailhead log couch.
Colson plopped down beside Cheyenne.
“Daddy.” She shrieked, pushed up and barreled into him.
“How’s my little beauty? Do you like the new digs?”
“It’s okay.” But she only had eyes for him.
If he could just bottle these moments...
“Wanna color?”
“Can’t wait.”
She wiggled out of his arms, returned to her coloring book, pointed to the prince next to her page. “You can do him.”
“What color hair should he have?” He lay flat on his belly beside her.
“Blue since he’s a boy.”
“Blue it is.” He grabbed the crayon and went to work. He looked up when he felt his dad’s and Annette’s scrutiny. They were holding hands, both of them grinning at him. Married four years, they were obviously still crazy about each other. “What?”
“Adorable.” Annette shot him a fond wink.
“Thanks for helping out with her.”
“We had fun. I felt like a teacher again. Cheyenne will keep me in practice for subbing again next year.”
Though Annette clearly loved teaching, she didn’t seem to regret going from full-time to being a substitute when she’d relocated to marry his dad. At first, Colson had been leery of the new woman in Dad’s life. He hadn’t wanted to see his father get hurt again. And his hackles had gone up when Annette had gently suggested Cheyenne needed counseling last year.
But she’d been right. He’d watched his little girl slowly come out of her shell over the last few months. Annette had been good for Dad. Good for all of them. Colson had sympathized when he’d learned her first husband had cheated on her, left her for another woman. She’d been just as wounded as Dad, so Colson had gotten to know her. Trust her even, which was rare for him.
“I better do something about supper.” Annette stood.
“You don’t have to slave over us.” Colson finished the prince’s hair. “I’ll make us sandwiches or something.”
“Nonsense. Cheyenne needs more than deli meat to grow on.” She headed for the kitchen.
This hiccup would be rough on all of them. New surroundings for Cheyenne. Her biological family—still in the dark—within a stone’s throw. Dad and Annette uprooting their lives, sharing a house with Colson.
If his dad only knew the pickle Colson was in. But he’d let Dad down so much in the past. And Dad had never asked much of him. The least he could do was keep the McCall ranch running well during their absence. He’d just have to ignore Resa.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it. But it feels funny answering the McCalls’ door.” Dad hurried to the front of the house.
Colson could hear a feminine voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew it was definitely Resa, making herself hard to ignore. Two sets of footfalls sounded as they made their way back to the great room.
Colson stiffened. No, Dad, keep her away from Cheyenne.
Maybe he should have told him the truth. But he knew his dad would want him to tell Resa. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t risk losing Cheyenne.
Colson looked up, shifted his position as his old rodeo injury flared heat through his shoulder.
“Isn’t this nice.” Dad held a large red pot with hot pads. “Resa brought us chicken and dumplings. And perfect timing, since Annette was just about to rustle us up a meal. I better go head her off.” He continued toward the kitchen.
“I love to color.” Resa shoved her hands in her pockets. Awkward, but her eyes softened as she watched Cheyenne. There was no judgment or teasing toward him, even though he currently held a crayon labeled cornflower blue.
Cheyenne’s gaze never left her work; her crayon never stopped moving.
“We didn’t get to meet this morning. I’m Resa.” She strolled over, then settled across from Cheyenne.
She glanced up at Resa, her eyes widening because of this new adult invading her space, then focused once again on her picture.
“I really like the princess’s hair pink.” Resa smiled.
Seeing Cheyenne’s pale blue eyes didn’t seem to bring any new awareness to Resa.
Colson relaxed a bit.
“My teacher always wanted me to make it yellow, or brown, or black,” his daughter murmured. “But I told her pink is for girls.”
How had Resa gotten her talking? Usually Cheyenne clammed up around anyone she didn’t know.
“I like the way you think.”
Cheyenne glanced up at her again.
“I always wished I had purple hair.” Resa tentatively reached over, twirled a strand of Cheyenne’s hair around her finger.
“Really?” Cheyenne’s crayon broke. “Uh-oh.” She reached for another pink one. “But pink would be better.”
“I agree. Maybe we can color together sometime.”
“Maybe.” Cheyenne’s voice rose an octave. Interested? Or nervous?
Resa stood. “I’ll let myself out.”
The right thing to say battled in Colson’s throat. “Sure you don’t wanna stay for supper, since you cooked it?”
“I appreciate the offer. But I’m good.”
“Thanks for the dumplings.” Relief ebbed through his stiff muscles. “My favorite.”
“Yeah, I remember.” She shrugged. “And most kids like them. I didn’t know what Mom left in the fridge or if Annette had a chance to go shopping. So I thought I’d help y’all get settled in.” She scurried for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
And the next day. And the one after that. He rolled over on his back.
“Daddy, you’re not finished.”
“I know, princess. Just resting my shoulder.” She wiggled over to him, buried her head in his chest.
He’d passed the test. Resa had seen Cheyenne up close and personal. And hadn’t figured out that Emmett was his daughter’s true father.
