Baby Kisses
Authors: Verna Clay
Baby Kisses
Romance on the Ranch Series
By
Verna Clay
This book is dedicated to everyone who has something to overcome.
Baby Kisses
Romance on the Ranch Series
Copyright © 2012 by Verna Clay
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information contact:
Website: www.VernaClay.com
Published by:
M.O.I.
Publishing
"Mirrors of Imagination"
Cover Designer: Elaina Lee (For the Muse)
Pictures: Dreamstime
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dear Readers,
Writing the love story of Tooty and Miles has been challenging. Of the three books,
Dream Kisses, Honey Kisses,
and
Baby Kisses,
this one has been the most difficult. I'm not sure of the reason except that maybe it was the sub plot of Eli and Annabelle that I found demanding. I don't mean demanding in the sense of writing, but in the sense of emotional expense. Whatever the reason, my characters finally matured and found their way to another happily-ever-after. Oh, and for fun, I hid a treasure in this story.
Enjoy the Treasure,
Verna Clay
Sequence of books in Romance on the Ranch Series:
Dream Kisses
Honey Kisses
Baby Kisses
Table of Contents
Chapter 6: Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
Chapter 14: Differences of Opinion
Chapter 16: Annabelle's Solution
Chapter 17: Take It or Leave It
Chapter 20: Surprises Go Both Ways
Chapter 1: Not an Airhead
Tooty drove her old Ford Ranger, gray in color under all the oxidation, to the front of Jacob and Julie's cottage. Parking in a cloud of dust, she sat for a minute and tried to calm her nerves. She was about to meet Maxwell Henry—
the famous author.
Sarah had explained his real name was Miles Brightman, and he was staying at the cottage while Julie and Jacob visited Maude and Clyde Hix in Alaska. Tooty had often heard stories about the former employees of the Lazy M Ranch and how they had struck it rich as gold prospectors. Now in their eighties and sixties, with Maude being the older, they still lived in the same cabin they'd built after moving to the wilds years earlier. Tooty understood Julie's desire to spend as much time as possible with the old-timers. She and Jacob were going to have a blast.
Okay, you've stalled long enough. It's time to get the embarrassing part over.
Tooty bit her thumbnail and still didn't move to open her door. She remembered Miles from Julie and Jacob's wedding reception. He was the guy in the wheelchair. Actually, he was the
hot
older guy in the wheelchair. Even now, she cringed remembering their encounter. She'd gone in search of her mischievous four-year old and seen him checking out the man's wheelchair. When she'd approached, she'd heard Harris say, "Hi, my name is Harris and, hey, that's a really cool chair. Ya wanna take me for a ride?"
Rushing forward, she hadn't reached Harris in time to stop him from climbing onto the man's lap. The startled expression on the guy's face had said everything. He wasn't used to kids. Besides that, she didn't know how severe his physical challenge was and whether Harris could injure him. When she'd reached to grab her son off his lap, he'd said, "No, leave him." After that, he'd told Harris about his wheelchair and shown him how to operate it, both manually and with battery assistance. Of course, Harris had been fascinated and oblivious to his faux pas of just climbing on the guy's lap. With a mixture of mortification and gratitude, she'd stepped to the sidelines to watch.
The man had finally said, "Well, Harris, looks like your mother is waiting for you, you better hop off now."
That's when Tooty had stepped forward. As she'd bent to help her son down, he'd glanced from her to the man and said, "Hey, I need a daddy. You wanna marry my mommy? Don't you think she's pretty?"
Tooty had looked from her son's innocent brown eyes into the man's Mediterranean blue ones and literally froze. She'd seen his shocked expression and then a slight quirk of his lips, like he was trying not to laugh. Before he could say anything, she'd jerked Harris off his lap. "I'm
really
sorry. My son just says whatever pops into his mind."
Harris defended himself. "But Mommy, Grammy says it too. She says I need a daddy and you need a man. What's wrong with him?"
"Ah…ah…I'm
really
sorry." Knowing there was no way to salvage their fiasco, she'd simply walked away carrying Harris. She'd never felt so embarrassed in her life. Every cell in her body had felt on fire—even her scalp.
Shaking the memory and inhaling a calming breath, Tooty forced her hand to the door handle. She was turning scarlet again just thinking about meeting Mr. Brightman and she had half a mind to flip the ignition key, back the truck up, and peel out of the driveway, never looking back. Of course, she wouldn't do that. She needed to earn money, but, more importantly, she'd never forgive herself if she turned down an opportunity to work with a famous author—an author whose every book she'd read at least twice.
* * *
Miles shifted his wheelchair so he could see out the living room window. He watched the young woman step from her battered pickup. So this was the girl with the strange first name Sarah had referred. Her dark, strawberry blonde hair looked familiar. When she'd almost reached the porch, recognition slammed him and he groaned. It was the girl from the wedding; the one with the cute, but rascally little boy—the boy who'd ask him to marry his mommy and become his daddy. He groaned again when the doorbell rang.
Rolling his chair to the door he opened it and pasted on a smile. "Hello, please come in," he said politely.
The girl opened the screen and he backed his chair up.
"H-hello. My name is Tooty Townsend and Sarah said you were looking for a personal assistant."
He rolled toward the back of the house. "Let's go to the kitchen. I've got coffee brewing and we can talk about it." He paused at the kitchen entrance and waited for her to enter. She waited for him to enter. Finally, he said, "Please go in and pour yourself a cup of coffee; that is if you drink coffee. I think there's tea in the fridge."
Self consciously, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay." She walked past him. At the counter, she reached for one of the cups he'd set out and lifted the pot. "Can I pour you one, too?"
"Yes, please." He rolled his chair to the drop leaf table and motioned for her to sit across from him. She set his coffee in front of him and took a seat. He poured cream into his brew and motioned with the pitcher to see if she wanted some. She nodded, and he poured. "Tell me when."