Читать книгу Frisco Joe's Fiancee - Tina Leonard - Страница 8

“Holy smokes, Frisco,” Navarro said as Frisco came barreling down the stairs. All ten of his brothers glanced at him. “Your drawers on fire?” Navarro asked.

“There’s a baby in my bed!” Frisco shouted. Remembering that a baby could be loud when it was awake, he lowered his voice to an unnerved whisper. “That little blonde put her baby in my bed!”

“Are you sure?” Fannin asked.

Frisco looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “I think I know a baby when I see one!”

“How do you know it’s hers?” Fannin said patiently.

“Because she was the only one who had a child that young with her.” And the picture of her kissing the baby’s head was still fresh in his mind. “I know it’s hers.”

“Dang.” Bandera threw his cards onto the round den table. “I’m certain she didn’t know it was your bed, Frisco. No woman would give your surly butt her sweet, fragile angel.”

His brothers laughed heartily. The instant fear, which had sent Frisco running down the stairs, began to turn to bad humor. “Where is she?” he demanded of Last.

“How would I know?” the youngest Jefferson shot back. “I thought she was getting in your truck.”

“My truck? Oh, no, she definitely was not getting into my truck,” Frisco insisted. He would have noticed that for certain. “I told you we couldn’t keep her, Last. You go find her, and take her and her baby back. Now.”

Last stood up, angry. “I don’t know where she is.”

Tex sighed. “Maybe she’s not here.”

“What?” Frisco stared at him. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m just saying maybe we’d better search the three houses and have a look for her,” Tex said evenly. “And hope she’s not far from her baby.”

“I’m not,” a woman said quietly, as she stepped into the den from the hallway.

The entire roomful of men rose, half for the sake of good manners and half because she’d startled them.

“I’m sorry to be the cause of so much trouble,” she said, her voice soft and gentle, almost shy. “I was changing Emmeline’s diaper when everyone left.”

Frisco’s mouth had dropped open when she walked into the room, holding a baby bottle. Up close, she was even more adorable. He loved worn blue jeans on a woman; he loved blond hair that hung straight to a woman’s chin. He loved sleepy eyes that stared right at him. There was some silent communication going on between them; there was something she was trying to tell him—

Her gaze averted from his, and Ranger coughed. “You might want to go throw on a pair of jeans, Frisco.”

ANNABELLE TURNBERRY knew what a man looked like without his clothes on, of course, or she wouldn’t have two-month-old Emmie. She’d just never seen a man like the one the other men called Frisco—the boxers only hid enough to keep her from being totally mortified.

And fascinated. She almost couldn’t stop staring until his brother reminded him he was sans jeans.

This was a household of men, and it seemed to be a normal routine to move about the house wearing whatever. She frowned. Her ex-fiancé had taken his clothes off in the dark the one time he took her to bed; she wasn’t sure she knew what he looked like. The fact that she’d just seen more of a stranger than she’d ever seen of her ex-fiancé wasn’t comforting.

Frisco shot up the stairs, muttering an apology. He looked just as good from the backside, she thought, taking a fast peek only because…because—

Well, there was no good justification for it. No excuse. It almost seemed wrong to look at another man, especially since she’d recently given birth, but it wasn’t as if she’d been looking out of lust, more out of admiration. After all, if a man who looked like Adonis took off running suddenly, wouldn’t any woman have to look?

She dropped her gaze, thinking that she was in a houseful of Adonises, and maybe therefore in a precarious position. They didn’t know her; she didn’t know them. Maybe she was guilty of breaking and entering or something else that concerned the law.

“It’s okay,” one of the men said, standing up to come over to her. “Next time you see Frisco, he’ll be fully dressed.”

“Oh. Well. I’m so sorry for the—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The man smiled at her, his gaze full of compassion. Annabelle was relieved because she hadn’t known what to say first, or even what she was going to say. There were so many things to apologize for!

“You’re tired. Why don’t you go lie upstairs with your baby until we can get you back to…where was it, again?”

“The Lonely Hearts Salon in Lonely Hearts Station, Texas.” She swallowed. “My name is Annabelle Turnberry.”

The kind man slapped his forehead. “We have manners, we really do. I’m Last Jefferson.”

He put out his hand to her, and she took it, noticing that his grip was gentle.

“These are my brothers, going from the top to the bottom, not counting Mason, who isn’t here.” They stood when he pointed to each one, as he recited, “Frisco’s upstairs, Fannin, Laredo, Tex, Calhoun, Ranger, Archer, Crockett, Navarro, Bandera, and me.”

“Last,” she repeated.

“But never least.”

His smile was devilish, inviting her to join in the harmless repartee. She could easily see that he never allowed himself to be outdone by his older brothers. “I’ll remember that. Last but not least.”

He smiled. “Good girl. Go upstairs and get some rest.”

“No. I don’t think so,” Frisco said, his voice deep as he came down the stairs. He tucked a denim shirt into jeans, he was barefoot, and Annabelle thought he might be the most handsome man she’d ever seen. But he was obviously a bad-humored rascal, and falling for that kind of man was what had landed her in her current predicament.

Or had given her a baby, anyway. Her predicament of being at the ranch with eleven men was her own fault, a direct result of deciding it was time to take charge of her life, stand on her own two feet. Move away from all things familiar and start over.

My life is more out of control than ever.

“She can’t make a bus now, Frisco,” Last said, his tone reasonable.

“And she can’t stay here.”

Annabelle stared at the tall cowboy, her misgivings growing. As far as he was concerned, she was an imposition, which, to be fair, she was, but it wasn’t all her fault. It was his brother who’d put the ad out over the Internet. She’d just thought to apply for a job where her baby would grow up safe. And in a real house, not a room over the beauty salon. Or at least that’s what Delilah had encouraged her to try for. Emmie would be very safe on a ranch with twelve men, the biggest danger probably being teaching her daughter that cows weren’t big doggies.

“Why not?” Last demanded, having appointed himself her champion. The other brothers began a protest that started out, “Come on, Frisco, lighten up,” but Frisco raised his hand to silence them.

“Because she’s a woman, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to stay with eleven bachelors,” he snapped. “Do I have to spell everything out for you lunkheads?”

“Yes. Sometimes,” Last said on a sigh. “So now what?”

“It’s late. The baby’s asleep. I hate to wake her now just to put her in a truck to get hauled off,” the blonde said. Frisco put his hands in his pockets and looked at her.

The dilemma was painful for all. Annabelle realized she was more of a problem than she’d thought. She couldn’t match his nearly-black-eyed stare and glanced at the baby bottle in her hand.

A knock at the front door made everybody turn.

“We expectin’ anybody?” Fannin asked, going to the door.

“Nope,” Frisco replied.

But the door burst open before Fannin could open it, a woman making herself at home as if she always did. “Girl in the house. Everybody decent? Or at least got clothes on?” she called out.

No one yelled back the standard We-got-clothes-on-but-we’re-not-decent line. The newcomer latched a curious gaze on Annabelle.

The room fell silent.

“Two girls in the house, maybe?” Annabelle said. “Decent and fully clothed?” She’d wanted to be light and airy to make a situation that was turning increasingly uncomfortable more easy for all. But by the look on the woman’s face, maybe not.

“Mimi, this is Annabelle Turnberry. Annabelle, Mimi Cannady, our next-door neighbor,” he said.

“How do you do?” Mimi asked politely.

“Fine, thank you.”

“Annabelle’s applying to be our new housekeeper,” Last said cheerfully.

“Housekeeper?” Mimi’s gaze turned worried. “She can’t.”

“Why not?” Annabelle knew she wasn’t in the running for the job—if there was one, Frisco had made it clear she wasn’t under consideration. But maybe Mimi could explain it better, and then Annabelle wouldn’t feel as if she’d simply made another silly mistake in her life by taking off for parts unknown to become a housekeeper.

“You’re not forty-five,” Mimi said. “That was in the ad, if you recall.”

“Forty-five?” Last said. “Why so old?”

“You’d have to ask Mason,” Mimi replied, her tone bright. “He was adamant on the age requirement.”

Annabelle caught the glance that passed between Mimi and Frisco, Mimi’s chin up, Frisco’s gaze narrowed suspiciously.

“Well, Mimi, it seems we agree on one thing,” he said softly.

“Will wonders never cease?” she shot back, her tone too sweet. Yet somehow strong underneath.

Annabelle’s eyebrows raised.

“She’ll have to come home with me,” Mimi said, with a put-upon sigh. “One of you can drive Annabelle back into town tomorrow.”

“Thought you weren’t going to help us anymore,” Last said helpfully. “We sure don’t want to put you out any.”

“That’s okay,” Mimi said, in the voice of a Good Samaritan. “Annabelle will be more comfortable at my house, I feel certain.”

From upstairs, Emmie’s wail floated down, loud and miserable.

“What’s that?” Mimi demanded.

“It’s my baby,” Annabelle said hurriedly. “She suffers from colic and doesn’t sleep well at night. Excuse me.”

She ran off up the stairs, almost glad to be away from whatever unspoken conversation was going on downstairs. One thing she was certain of, Frisco didn’t want her there—and neither did Mimi.

“NICE OF YOU TO GIVE us a hand, Mimi.” Frisco tossed her a wry grin. “We’ll think about you listening to sweet baby tears all night.”

Mimi was about fit to be tied. She’d nearly not come in time! What if these over-eager Jefferson brothers had hired the attractive little blonde? Mason would be back in two weeks, after all, and the last thing she wanted him to find upon his arrival was a dainty housekeeper.

“I’ve never seen you jealous before, Mimi,” Frisco said lazily. “You sure do put on a good show.”

“Shush, Frisco.” Mimi rolled her eyes at him. “If you were only half as smart as you think you are, you’d still only be thinking on a third-grade level.”

“Mimi and Mason, sittin’ in a tree—” one of the brothers started.

She whirled around. “Cut it out, guys, or I leave the lady—and the baby—with you. And none of you will get a wink of sleep tonight, I’ll bet.”

It would be more because of Annabelle than the baby that they might not sleep tonight, but Mimi wasn’t going to let any of them know they’d scored with their baiting of her. She knew how to keep this group of bad boys in check.

It was Mason who threw her for a loop. And she wasn’t about to have him come home to a ready-made family scenario. She didn’t like the fact that her housekeeping scheme had nearly backfired on her.

“We’re just yanking your chain, Mimi.” Frisco grinned at her, eager to make peace.

“I’ll go help Annabelle pack up the baby,” she said with a long-suffering sigh.

A loud pounding sounded on the door, and this time, Fannin waited to see if it would burst open again, with someone else making themselves at home.

No one came in, so he got up and jerked the door open.

To Mimi’s horror, what looked like a sorority stood on the porch, before silently filing into the den. A middle-aged woman stepped forward.

“Annabelle didn’t get on the bus with us,” she announced with grave determination. “And we’re not leaving without her.”