and held out her arms.
Worth gave her a long, steady look, then surrendered her son. “I’ll get your luggage, while you and my mother have a nice,” he emphasized the adjective, “chat.”
Dawn popped over the hills to the east in a showy display of golden peach, the morning light stealing into Worth’s bedroom as he lay awake. He ought to be up and moving. Early morning was the best part of the day, drinking coffee on the front porch, smelling the wind and hearing the birds twitter awake. The old house creaked and sighed, familiar sounds.
A little voice chattered from down the hall. Worth smiled. Whatever his mother’s problems were, the kid was a cute one. Elizabeth was as warm and loving toward her son as she was cool and distant to her father.
Not that Russ had rushed to hug his daughter.
Mary joked her mission in life was to teach Russ how to deal with people as well as he dealt with animals. Worth grinned. At least Russ no longer cringed when Worth’s sisters hugged him. As Worth’s nephew frequently said, the Lassiter women were huggers.
Elizabeth Randall was not a hugger.
Worth suspected his family had overwhelmed her. Only his niece Hannah, with her red hair and delight at seeing another redhead, had managed to overcome Elizabeth’s reserve. He wondered about the funny look on Elizabeth’s face when Hannah suggested Jamie’s father was probably playing with angels. Playing with angels being Hannah’s explanation for the death of her birth mother.
Worth strained to hear, but no female voice answered the baby. During the night Worth had heard the baby fretting and his mother’s voice soothing him. Elizabeth had looked exhausted when she’d arrived. She must be getting some much-needed sleep.
His mother hadn’t returned to the house. Every night Mary snuck over to the guest cabin where Russ was staying, and every morning she tried to sneak back before Worth arose. She seldom made it, but he always pretended to believe her story about being unable to sleep and taking an early morning walk. He doubted she believed him any more than he believed her, but he had no objection to pretending if it saved her embarrassment. His mother deserved a little naughtiness in her life.
Down the hall Jamie’s voice took on strident overtones.
Throwing aside the covers, Worth rose and pulled on his jeans. He knocked softly on Elizabeth’s bedroom door, and when no one responded, peeked inside. Jamie greeted him from near the door, bouncing up and down in the baby bed and holding up his hands in a demand to be picked up.
Jamie’s mother lay dead to the world, her chest rising and falling in the slow rhythms of sleep. Tiptoeing into the room, Worth lifted the little boy from the bed. Jamie gurgled with pleasure.
Jamie’s mother slept on, her red hair spread over the snow-white pillow. Worth felt his body tighten. Elizabeth sighed in her sleep and rolled over, her bottom a rounded hump under the blankets. He didn’t even like her, and he wanted to crawl under the covers with her.
Jamie chomped down on Worth’s chin.
Out in the hall, Worth closed the door to the bedroom and grinned at the little boy. “You hungry or reading my mind?”
Jamie grinned back, proudly displaying six little teeth.
Elizabeth lay facedown in the bed. A cup of coffee would be heavenly, but she didn’t want to disturb Jamie, who was sleeping soundly at last. Poor baby. Yesterday had been too long and too stimulating for him.
And for her. Two of Mary’s daughters had come for dinner along with their families. Cheyenne, married to Thomas Steele, had two children, ten-year-old Davy and nine-month-old Virginia. And Allie, married to Zane Peters, with six-year-old Hannah and six-month-old Harmony. The third sister lived in Denver.
The sisters were younger versions of Mary. Both were beautiful and self-assured, their husbands handsome, confident men who clearly adored their wives.
A spasm of envy twisted Elizabeth’s stomach. She’d felt like a penniless child outside a candy store, her nose pressed to the window, as she’d observed the teasing family interaction. Children had been passed among the adults with easy familiarity.
Except for Jamie, who would never experience that kind of loving extended family. Her son would never have an uncle like Worth Lassiter.
Worth Lassiter, whose mother and sisters fawned over him. Whose nieces and nephews clearly adored him.
Hannah and Davy had glued themselves to him. Sitting at the dinner table on either side of him. Following him around. Playing with the baby who sat securely and happily on his lap.
Her baby.
Jamie had looked so content—so right—held in a man’s large hands. A boy needed a father. Jamie was totally blameless, yet he was the one who would suffer.
Sometimes Elizabeth felt the pain would crush her heart when she thought of her perfect, innocent baby who’d been born into a situation he didn’t deserve.
Sunlight reached the window and flooded the room. Opening one eye, she took in the red cowboy-patterned bedspread and a cowboy boot lamp beside the bed. The room had been decorated for her grandson Davy’s visits to the ranch, Mary had explained, giving Elizabeth the room for her stay so Jamie could enjoy the bright colors.
A cow clock beside the bed mooed the hour. Surprised the sound didn’t wake Jamie, Elizabeth sat up.
The baby bed was empty.
CHAPTER TWO
“C’MON, Jimbo, open wide. The early bird’s supposed to eat all his worms.”
“What are you doing with my son?”
Jamie squealed and pounded the tray of the high chair.
Worth turned to face the owner of the furious voice. Sparks practically flew from her red hair. A man would be crazy to want all that heat and voltage centered on him. “I’d say I’m feeding him breakfast, but since the majority of the food is everywhere but in his stomach, you’d probably call me a liar.”
“You had no right to come into my bedroom and take Jamie.”
So much for gratitude. Worth shoved food in Jamie’s mouth and debated apologizing. He didn’t debate long. Widow or not, Elizabeth Randall’s abrasive attitude was beginning to rile him. Besides, she had no business standing there with sleep-tousled hair, doing bad things to his body. “I knocked, but you were snoring so loud, you didn’t hear me.”
“I do not snore.”
When she stuck her nose in the air and jerked her spine straight, the top of her shiny green pajamas poked out in interesting places. Worth gave her a deliberately obnoxious grin. “You made more racket than a freight train, sleeping with your mouth hanging wide open.”
“You watched me sleeping?” She practically shrieked the question.
Turning his back to her, Worth gave Jamie a wink and another spoonful of cereal. “Only for a minute, Red.” Revolving to face her, he added in a guileless voice, “I was admiring your green pajamas.”
She
