Cowboy Secret (The Dalton Boys Book 4) (5 page)

Chapter Four

“Let’s talk.” Beck took Sabrina’s hand and lifted her from the chair. Nearby, Owen slept in a playpen, exhausted from hanging with his cousins and experiencing his first little bites of fresh sugar cookie, which Beck had slipped him, much to Sabrina’s dismay.

Her hand shook in his grasp as he led her outside. The rain hadn’t stopped and he’d done evening chores in mud up to his ankles. But coming inside to see Sabrina’s lovely face had made it better somehow.

It shouldn’t. He couldn’t keep her.

The porch swing hung in the darkness, and he settled on it, patting the seat beside him. She tried to put space between them.

“The swing’s not all that big.”

“And you take up a lot of space,” she said.

He laughed and set the swing in motion with his heel against the floorboards. They swayed for several minutes in silence. Rain pattered.

“How was your first day on the ranch?” he asked at last.

She twisted her fingers in her lap. “Ohhh…it was different.”

“Different how?”

“From what I know. Your family is so big and they truly get along and love each other.”

He studied her profile in the dim lighting coming through the living room window. “It’s something you didn’t have. You never could have understood this is what Owen would know.”

She shook her head and made a sniffling noise. Was she crying? “I had no idea. Beck, I’m sorry for keeping him away. I see now how wrong it was. You clearly have accepted him already.”

“Honey bun, the minute I looked at him, I fell in love with him. And it’s…the most insane, scary and amazing feeling I’ve ever had.”

She made a choking sound, and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around her and bringing her head to his shoulder. They swayed.

“Thank you, Beck,” she said quietly.

He stopped the swing. “Are you thanking me for loving our son?”

“Yes. You didn’t have to.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. A man like me has to.” He set the swing in motion again and she straightened from his hold.

“Now what?” Her voice was coming slow, as if the day’s events, lots of Momma’s home cooking and her emotions had exhausted her.

“Now that we’ve established I love Owen and he must know this family, we figure out how to get you on your feet.”

“I need to teach. It’s the only job that’s important to me.”

“I know the passion inside you for it, and I respect it deeply.”

Even in the faint light, he saw surprise flit over her beautiful features. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s what I feel for this ranch.” And if he wanted his own piece of it, he needed a wife.

“I guess I need to drive to the neighboring towns and inquire about teaching positions.”

“That’s one way.”

“There’s another?”

He nodded. “When you’ve lived here all your life, you know people and you know things.”

“What things?”

“How to ask a friend for a favor.”

She gave an agitated flick of her head. “No. I don’t want favors, Beck. I want to get a job on my own.”

“This is how it’s done in schools, isn’t it? You know someone on the school board and your name is discussed as a prime candidate.”

She swallowed audibly. “I’d feel terrible getting a job that way.”

“I thought all you wanted was a job. Money and security.”

She sighed and they swung. The rain was slowing, and Beck felt his own fatigue overtaking him. It had been a hell of a long, emotional day for him too. He’d finally digested that he had a son, been soaked to the skin and eventually kicked by his horse, which had been disgruntled at being made to stand in the rain and herd cows.

Rubbing a hand over the bruised spot on his outer thigh, he wondered what Sabrina was taking so long to ponder. Was she really so full of pride that she couldn’t accept his offer to talk to his old buddy on the school board? Maybe.

“Let me think about it, okay, Beck? Tomorrow I’ll look through the newspaper and check some websites for job openings.”

“Okay. And I haven’t spoken to my parents officially yet, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. You and Owen.”

She sniffled again. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure you need things for him, so we’ll head into town tomorrow and get them. Certain foods, diapers, whatever.”

“Thank you for that too.”

“No need, honey bun. He’s my son and I’ll provide for him. If you need anything, I’ll do anything in my power to give that too.”

His strong words turned her face toward him. Moonlight traced its blue fingers along her fine bones and glinted in her big, soft brown eyes. His heart did a wild flop.

“I don’t know what to say, Beck.”

“No words necessary. We’re in this together. We’ll figure it out as we go.” He placed his hand over hers, and she turned her palm up to tangle their fingers. “Right now let’s get you and Owen tucked into a comfy room. You’re lucky most of my brothers are out of the house. A year ago, we would have been sleeping on top of each other.”

Damn, that idea had him as hard as stone. He prayed she didn’t glance at the bulge in his jeans and hoped the shadows disguised it. He may have to take a midnight trip to the barn before he could settle for the night.

His homeless ex showing up on his doorstep with a son he didn’t know he had suddenly seemed easy to deal with. Being this close to Sabrina was going to be a real ball-splitter.

* * * * *

Sabrina was used to the noises of an apartment building, so sleeping through the Dalton boys using the bathroom and going downstairs should be easy.

If they didn’t sound like a herd of cattle, it would be.

She tugged the covers over her head and snuggled into her pillow. One of her cardinal rules since Owen’s birth had been “if the baby’s not up, I’m not either.”

Except she had to pee.

She strained to hear if anyone was in the bathroom next door. When she didn’t hear anything, she crept out, careful not to wake Owen.

A few minutes later she tiptoed back into the room and slammed into a wall of muscle. Muscle wearing a Carhartt barn jacket and worn jeans.

“What are you doing in my room?” she hissed at Beck. Then he turned and she saw what he was holding.

A very sleepy Owen. The baby put fists to his eyes and rubbed and rubbed. His mouth turned down at the corners. He liked being awakened as much as she did.

She huffed. “Don’t you know never to wake a sleeping baby?”

“I figured it would be okay. I wanted to see him.” He caressed Owen’s round head and kissed it.

“You couldn’t have waited until second breakfast or whatever you call it?” Irritation coiled inside her.

Beck riveted her in his gaze.

She’d glimpsed herself in the mirror while washing her hands. Her curls stuck up like porcupine quills and she had the splotchy redness of sleep on her face. Even her cheek was creased from her pillow.

The corner of his lips cut upward in that mind-stealing crooked smile. His white teeth flashed. Damn him. He even looked good before the sun came up.

“I’m sorry, honey bun. I know you aren’t a morning person.”

His nickname for her burrowed deep into her psyche and her body heated in response. The fact that he knew her sleeping and waking habits was unbearably intimate. The center of his big chest looked like the perfect place to rest her head. And his country drawl was the best lullaby.

From the glow of the nightlight, she saw his smile falter, his lips harden. Annoyance smacked her between the eyes, waking her completely. How stupid could she be? Beck hadn’t wanted her then, and he sure didn’t now.

She yanked Owen back into her arms. He started to cry. “Now look what you did,” she bit off.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who made him cry.”

“I did not. You woke him up, and he’s a very heavy sleeper. Don’t you have horses or chickens to bother this early?”

The muscle flutter was back in his jaw. It ticked as rhythmically as a clock. Owen’s wail filled the room, shattering the last of Sabrina’s nerves.

“I’ll leave you be.” Beck’s voice was harsh.

“Goodbye.” She practically shut him in the door. Intolerable man.

Why was she pressing her ear against the wood to listen to his footsteps fade if she hated him so much?

She gave a low growl, and Owen cried harder.

Swallowing some tears of her own, she sank to the bed and tried to shush the baby. She rocked and sang quietly, but he wasn’t having any of it.

He batted at her then stuffed a fist in his mouth and gnawed. Great. He was teething on top of being cranky.

There was a soft knock on the door. She jumped up and whipped open the door, prepared to box Beck Dalton’s ears. Her jaw dropped open as she saw Mrs. Dalton standing there in a fluffy robe, her hair flattened on one side.

“I’m sorry for the noise,” Sabrina said.

“I know a cry of pain when I hear one. Is everything all right?”

No. All wrong. I’m in a strange house with people I don’t know well and a man I know too well. I have no job, no money and no way to raise my baby without your generosity.

Sabrina hid her quivering lips against Owen’s skull and nodded. “He’s teething I think,” she said thickly.

“Ah, I wondered yesterday. He was drooling so much. Come downstairs with me. I have a good remedy for painful gums.” With that, she turned, expecting Sabrina to follow.

She looked after her for a minute before Owen smacked her in the cheek with one tight fist. What choice did she have? She didn’t even have Tylenol in her diaper bag and only about three dollars to her name.

Thank goodness Beck had offered to take her into town later.

She descended the stairs and found Mrs. Dalton in the kitchen dumping things into a bowl. As Sabrina entered, she bounced Owen, hoping to soothe him.

“The first teeth are hard. But wait until his brother loosens one with his fist in a brawl over a cowboy hat.” Mrs. Dalton shot Sabrina a humored look.

“Beck?” she asked, aware her voice was throaty from sleep.

“Yes. That boy was always fighting his brothers. As youngest, I think he tried to show off more. Prove something.”

Sabrina pressed her lips together, aching a little that Owen wouldn’t have a brother to fight with. Sure, Sabrina was young and had plenty of time for marriage and more children—she just wasn’t into the idea. Maybe because she had other things to worry about—like a place to live.

“What are you mixing?” She leaned against the counter and jostled the crying baby.

“A little chamomile. It soothes sore gums and calms. Also, a little rose hip syrup.”

“What does it do?”

Mrs. Dalton mixed the ingredients and scooped some on a baby spoon. “Rose hips are full of vitamin C. Sometimes the child’s immune system is affected by teething. May I give it to him?”

Her green eyes—totally different from Beck’s—had a network of creases around each. Happy creases. She’d had a good life.

Would Sabrina look that way in her golden years? She nodded her permission.

With the most practiced of touches, Mrs. Dalton steadied Owen’s head and stuck the spoon into his gaped mouth. He slammed his mouth shut in indignation. Then sucked the spoon greedily.

They shared a laugh. “I think he’s hungry too.”

“I have no idea why. He’s never awake this early. It’s not a time humans should be vertical.”

Mrs. Dalton smiled. “Sit and hold him while that concoction works its magic and I’ll make him a bottle.”

Sabrina practically collapsed onto the bench. The room was homey with authentic country touches. Rather than an expensive ceramic pot of herbs growing on the windowsill, there was an earthenware crock. And things like checked placemats and a basket of fresh eggs completed the look.

Mrs. Dalton didn’t speak as she warmed one of the bottles Sabrina had mixed the previous day. The old wooden clock ticked and the first faint colors of sunrise peeked through the window.

Everything about the moment comforted Sabrina. Plus, nobody had ever helped her with Owen, so having someone else fix a bottle felt like the most decadent pleasure. She sighed, Owen warm and heavy in her arms. He’d stopped crying but still whined.

When Beck’s mother handed her the bottle, she looked up with a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Dalton.”

“Maggie, please.”

Nodding, she stuck the bottle in her hungry boy’s mouth and they both watched him drink for long minutes. Finally, Maggie roused. “I’m sorry I’m not good company in the morning.”

“Believe me, I get it.”

“That’s why we have second breakfast, you know. Because I’m as mean as a devil if I have to get up and fry eggs before I’m ready.”

Sabrina laughed despite the graininess of sleep. “Your son is responsible for this, you know. He came into my room and woke Owen.”

At that, Maggie’s silvery brows shot up. “Did he?”