The Cowboy's Secret Baby. Karen Rose Smith

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nodded. “That’s important. One of my friends from the rodeo circuit who wants to retire is going to hire on with us at the Cozy C. Clint and I have known each other since my first rodeo. He’s good with horses and anything else that needs to be done.”

      “I guess you have a lot on your plate right now, too,” she said, “getting ready for the opening.”

      “It’s coming together. Uncle Eli wasn’t 100 percent on board at the beginning, but I think that’s changing. I sure hope it is.”

      “So your uncle doesn’t want to turn the Cozy C into a dude ranch?” she asked with an amused smile.

      “We’re calling it a vacation ranch,” Ty corrected her with a wink.

      “I see.” She was still looking a bit amused and her eyes were twinkling.

      She was so darn pretty. But he wasn’t here to talk about the ranch, and he wasn’t here to flirt. “I won’t hold you up. I know you’re busy.”

      Now that twinkle was gone from her eyes. In fact, he thought he could see fear there. What was she afraid of?

      “Uncle Eli wants to meet Jordan, and I want to spend some time with him. How about coming to the ranch for dinner tonight?”

      * * *

      As Marissa drove her six-year-old small sedan down the winding road that led to the Cozy C, she noticed the fresh-laid stones crunching under her tires. She also spotted new fence posts along the fence line that ran by the side of the road.

      Jordan rattled the plastic play keys that were attached to his car seat.

      “We’re almost there, buddy.”

      Those butterflies in her stomach seemed to be doing the salsa the closer she got to the ranch. She’d known she had to attend this dinner tonight. It was only fair. But what was going to happen next? That’s what those butterflies were all about.

      Ty had said he wanted to spend time with his son. Did he mean just tonight? Or was he talking more long-term than that? Just the thought of seeing him again made her palms sweat. She took a couple of deep breaths warning herself to calm down. She wouldn’t want to hyperventilate in front of his uncle—or in front of Ty for that matter.

      The lodgepole pines, fir trees and aspens gave the ranch a look similar to Raintree Winery. She’d never had wide-open spaces around when she was a kid. She’d been unaware of what gardens could do for a property or how wildflowers just made one want to sigh and relax. She was fortunate to work at Raintree, and she realized how fortunate Ty was that he could renovate the Cozy C with his uncle. He had family that mattered and a place that mattered. Did he realize how important that was?

      Spotting a truckload of lumber covered loosely by a tarp, she realized some construction was still going on here. Just when would the Cozy C open for guests?

      She let thoughts like that occupy her as she approached the ranch house. It was three stories, but judging by the small windows in the two dormers, that third story could be an attic, she supposed. A wide porch surrounded the first floor on three sides. The banisters were freshly painted white. The light gray siding and black shutters also looked new. Even the steps leading up to the porch were a shiny gray. The landscaping around the steps looked as if it was in the process of a makeover, though young shrubs were positioned along the home’s foundation, and the beds appeared newly mulched. She just caught a glimpse of the pasture beyond and a few horses running there.

      “Horses, buddy. What do you think of that?” Marissa asked her son.

      His answer was “Mmm, momma momma momma.”

      She smiled as she parked.

      It was time to pretend she was confident, self-assured and totally self-reliant. She climbed out of the car, unhooked Jordan from his car seat and hiked him into her arms. Then she managed to snag the diaper bag, which went with her everywhere. After she ran up the porch steps, she rang the doorbell. She could smell the newly painted wood.

      When the door opened, she expected to see Ty. But instead an older man with a weathered face appeared. Eli Conroy, she assumed. His hair receded from his forehead and gray laced the brown there as it did on his beard. He wore overalls and a plaid shirt and didn’t look any too happy to see her.

      “I guess you’re Marissa,” he said. “You’re early.”

      Automatically she glanced at her watch. She couldn’t be more than ten minutes early.

      “I never know how long it will take to get Jordan and his necessities together. So I always try to start out sooner than I need to.”

      Eli Conroy looked her up and down, then his expression seemed to gentle as his eyes fell on Jordan.

      “Come on in.” He beckoned her through the living room into the kitchen. “Ty should be here any minute. He got tied up with a problem at one of the guest cabins and is getting a shower.”

      All of a sudden Marissa heard movement beyond the archway on the left side of the kitchen. Then she heard Ty’s voice. “That new shower works great, Unc. Don’t tell me you don’t like to just be able to step in there and—”

      “She’s here early,” Eli said, motioning to Marissa.

      Marissa felt totally dumbfounded. Not because Ty had appeared in the kitchen, but because he’d appeared in the kitchen shirtless with his hair still wet and with a few drops of water clinging to his curling chest hair. She knew her eyes were glued to him, but she couldn’t seem to look away. When she did manage to avert her gaze, her eyes collided with his and caught. Two years rolled back. She recalled running her fingers through that chest hair, inhaling deep breaths of his masculine scent, melding with him until she didn’t know where she began or he ended.

      Eli cleared his throat, took a step forward and held his arms out to Jordan.

      “Will you come to me?” he asked gruffly.

      Memories of Ty and their night together scattered as all of her concern focused on Jordan. Eli was a stranger to him. Would her son cry?

      But he didn’t cry. He leaned forward and Eli took him. Jordan reached for Eli’s beard and took it in his fist, giggling.

      Eli chuckled, too.

      Ty’s eyebrows quirked up and he grinned. “Not just anybody takes to Uncle Eli. Jordan must be a good judge of character.”

      Eli harrumphed. “I can take Jordan on a little tour of the porch. Maybe you should show Marissa here that old high chair and see if it’s suitable for this young’un.”

      “I can do that,” Ty agreed. He touched her elbow. “It’s upstairs. I pulled it down from the attic and cleaned it up last night.”

      Marissa was about to say that she could unfasten Jordan’s car seat and bring that in for him to sit in, but there was something in Ty’s look that said he wanted her to see this high chair.

      She followed him through the living room to the staircase there. Even barefoot Ty was still a good six inches taller than she was. She glanced over her shoulder at her son and saw he was babbling to Eli. That was a good sign, she supposed.

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