The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara Daille White
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As he tipped his head back to drink, she watched the muscles working in his throat. When he set the glass down, a rim of tea still wet his upper lip. He licked the moisture away. She shivered and glanced down at the tabletop.
“I’ll call you to confirm I’m back,” he said. “If you could pick him up at her house once you get off work in the afternoons, it would be a big help. I’m bound to be filthy from prowling around the ranch, and I’d lose a lot of good work time if I had to stop and shower up to come into town in the middle of the day.”
At the thought of him in the shower, she shivered again. Trying to blame her reactions on her iced drink, she tightened her hand around the tall glass.
“I’ll pay you whatever it is you make hourly at the store,” he told her.
I don’t want your money.
But how could she say that? He would find it highly suspicious, especially since she had said she could use the extra cash. And she couldn’t confess to him that minding his baby scared the heck out of her. Not meeting his eyes, she sipped her tea and then touched the paper napkin to her lips.
She thought of all the years she had crushed on Reagan. Everyone in school probably knew how she felt about him. He must have known it, too. He couldn’t have missed it...could he? Now the idea made her cringe. If he had noticed, she couldn’t risk saying something that would make him recall how much she had liked him...and maybe make him change his mind about asking for her help.
Worse, if she didn’t guard her reactions now, he would find out how much she still cared.
“You’d...want me to take the baby home with me until you pick him up?” That would work. Mama could help her with him.
“He’ll be fine with Mrs. B all day, I know that. But his routine will already be upset enough since he won’t be with his regular sitter. I’d rather you bring him out to the ranch and watch him there, if that’s not a problem for you.”
She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, as Jed Garland would say. She would go out to Reagan’s family home to spend afternoons and evenings with him...and a baby she had no idea how to handle.
Fear at her inexperience fought with her longing to be with Reagan.
His small smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. His expression looked hopeful...and just a bit desperate.
Longing left her light-headed. Reagan needed her.
This was the chance she had always wanted to get close to him.
Well, if she could play the role of The Girl Most Likely to Make You Laugh, she could also convince herself she would be an expert babysitter. “No worries,” she said firmly. “Watching the baby out at the ranch won’t be a problem at all.”
* * *
“BUT, TINA,” ALLY WAILED, “what was I thinking? I don’t know anything about babies!”
After her meeting with Reagan at SugarPie’s, she had come out to the Hitching Post to see Tina, as she had told Jed she would.
Her best friend reclined on the couch in her newly renovated attic apartment at her family’s hotel. She cuddled her sleeping newborn daughter close to her and laughed softly. “I know exactly what you were thinking. This is Reagan you’re talking about.”
Ally’s cheeks flamed. From the time she and Tina had become best friends, they had shared all their secrets, including her crush on Reagan.
“And, of course, you know something about babies,” Tina went on. “You held Emilia yesterday.”
“Held. For a few seconds. That’s a lot different from watching one for an entire afternoon and evening. Maybe for an entire week of afternoons and evenings.” If she were lucky. Or possibly unlucky.
She didn’t know what to hope for anymore. She ran her hands through her hair. Curls bounced in all directions, nearly blocking her vision. She swept them aside.
Tina laughed again. “That’s my Ally, always the drama queen.”
“You know it.” She flounced into the upholstered chair near the couch. Even with her best friend, she sometimes felt the need to pretend. One of these days, The Girl Most Likely to Make You Laugh might have to fess up.
“You’ve also been around from the day Robbie was born.” Robbie was Tina and her husband Cole’s five-year-old.
“Okay, so I’ve played toy horses with him, and racing cars and once—a long time ago—I rolled a ball to him when he was still too little to move out of the way. He couldn’t miss it,” she admitted to Tina. “But I never fed him. Or gave him a bottle. Or—” she shuddered “—changed his diapers.”
Shuddering aside, it wasn’t diapers that bothered her so much as her fear Reagan’s son would react to her the way other babies had. “Little kids and I just don’t get along. The minute they see me, they know they’re dealing with an amateur, and they all turn into howling, stiff-limbed little monsters.”
Why had she ever thought she could take care of Reagan’s baby?
“Ally, that’s just silly. Come here.” Tina sat upright on the couch.
Reluctantly, Ally crossed to take a seat beside her and let her place the newborn into her arms. The blanket-wrapped baby felt warmer and heavier than Ally had expected. Ally smiled down at her.
“See? Not so bad, is it?”
“You’ve got such a treasure here, mi amiga,” she told Tina in a murmur, afraid her voice might startle the child. Better to let her sleep. Her goddaughter had an angelic face with a tiny cupid’s-bow mouth, both of which Ally worried might be deceiving.
“Andi and I can teach you all you need to know.” Tina’s cousin had two small children of her own.
“Oh, right. An entire Baby 101 course, compressed into a couple of days?”
“Sure. You’re a quick study. Piece of cake.”
“Don’t mention cake,” she said with a moan. The baby moved her arm slightly, and Ally lowered her voice again. “I could eat an entire pan of your abuela’s sopaipilla cheesecake right this minute.”
Tina smiled. “I don’t think it’s on the menu tonight. But stay for supper. By the time we’re done, Emilia will need another feeding and a diaper change, and we’ll get you started on some hands-on experience.”
“This might be all the hands-on I can handle. But I suppose I can stay.” Truthfully, the deciding factor was more the thought of Tina’s grandmother’s cooking than it was the lessons.
“What I want to know,” she said thoughtfully, “is exactly where Reagan’s baby came from.”
“Uh...Ally? We covered the birds and the bees in about fifth grade.”
She rolled her eyes.