The Rebel Cowboy's Baby--A Clean Romance

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The Rebel Cowboy's Baby--A Clean Romance Page 12

by Sasha Summers


  Brooke stared at the window and stuck her tongue out.

  Audy hooted with laughter. “Joy, don’t you look now. Brooke’s not acting like a very good role model at the moment.” But he was still laughing.

  Tess didn’t quite manage to stifle her laughter, either.

  “Don’t be too hard on her. It’s got to be hard work, being a grown-up all the time.” Audy sighed. “I’m tired just thinking about it.”

  It was enough of a reminder to help Brooke steady herself. Audy was right, it was exhausting being responsible. But that was who she was, it was who she always had been. For Audy, this was all new. It took at least sixty days for a habit to become automatic, or thereabouts, and Audy was on day six... The road ahead of them was long and uncertain. Brooke finished scrubbing the pan, placed it on the drying rack by the sink and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel—turning to find Tess once more poring over her textbook while Audy and Joy were both watching her.

  Joy waved.

  Brooke waved back.

  Audy... Audy was staring at her. He was still smiling, but it was a different sort of smile. One she’d never seen him wear before. And between the blue eyes and the dimples and the rigid jaw and that look, he was downright...unsettling.

  “I—I think it’s bath time,” Brooke said, wiping her now-dry hands on the towel again to hide their trembling. What was this feeling? Where had it come from? And why, oh, why, did Audy Briscoe have to be the one to cause it?

  * * *

  AUDY WASN’T ONE to overthink things. He wanted something, he got it. He felt a certain way, he acted on it. That was part of living life to the fullest—doing, engaging, being in the moment. But this moment, right here in Brooke Young’s kitchen, was outside his norm. He was wanting and feeling, all right, but there was no way, no way, he could act.

  For one thing, there was a baby in the room.

  For another, Tess was sitting here—being all studious.

  Finally, this was Brooke. Brooke Brooke. The woman who normally scowled and rolled her eyes and generally let him know that, to her, he was about as useless as a person could be. Only now, there was no scowling or eye-rolling or anger or...judgment.

  There was a softness to her that triggered every instinct he had. To protect her. To comfort her. To...to what?

  He ran a hand over his face. He was a fool, but this was a whole new level of foolishness. “Bath time, it is.”

  “Oh, can I help?” Tess asked, looking up from her pre-calculus book. “I need a break.” She made an extra-goofy face at Joy. “Don’t I, Joy?”

  Joy squealed with glee.

  Audy chuckled. As much progress as he’d made with Joy, he couldn’t hold a candle to Tess. Something about that girl made Joy light up.

  “Are you sure?” Brooke asked. “I know you have that big mid-semester exam this week—”

  “And I’ve been studying really hard.” Tess tapped her book with her pencil.

  Audy didn’t look at Brooke as he said, “You know, Beau’d be happy to study with you. He’s a math whiz and I know he’d—”

  “I’m sure Beau has enough to do. Besides, Mr. Hillard offers tutoring—if that’s something you’re interested in?” Brooke’s words came out in a rush.

  Tess blinked, set her pencil down and stood. “It’s not like I’m failing, Brooke. I have a B average. A high B, too. And, once I ace this test, I’ll have an A.” She came around and scooped Joy up, rubbing noses with the baby. “Because Tess is the smartest girl in her class, isn’t she, Joy?”

  Joy grabbed Tess’s face in her sticky hands. “Teh...”

  “Are you saying my name? Is she saying my name?” Tess asked. “Can you say Tess? Joy, who am I?” She patted herself on the chest. “Tess. You can do it. Say my name. Tess.”

  “Teh.” Joy patted Tess on the chest. “Teh.”

  “That’s me.” Tess smiled. “I’m Teh.” She hugged Joy. “You’re supersmart, too, aren’t you? I bet you’ll be the first in your class when you grow up. Let’s go have a bath. With extra bubbles.” She kept up a steady one-sided conversation as she carried Joy from the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom.

  “I’m thinking Joy has a favorite?” Audy untied the towel from around his neck. “Not that I blame her. Tess is a whole lot more fun than we are. Well, you, anyway.” His attempt to tease was met with a locked jaw and blazing eyes. “What?”

  “Don’t you what me, Audy Briscoe. You keep...keep trying to shove your little brother onto my sister.” Brooke tossed the hand towel onto the counter. “I thought I’d made it clear that I don’t feel comfortable with the two of them...you know...getting together.”

  “Getting together?” he repeated, wishing he understood why she was so dead set against this.

  “Why are you choosing to be so thickheaded about this?” she asked. “Tess needs to focus on her studies, and Beau—”

  “Has a full ride to the college of his dreams.” Audy sat back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I know you said they’re too young—” he used air quotes around “too young” in case she missed his sarcasm “—but I get the feeling there’s more to this than you’re saying.”

  “My reasoning is none of your business, Audy.” She took a deep breath. “We are co-guardians for Joy. Tess is my business and I’d appreciate it if you’d respect my authority instead of trying to undermine me.”

  “I’m not trying to do a thing to you. I’m trying to give two young kids a chance at a little happiness.” Audy saw the red drain from Brooke’s cheeks.

  “Tess is happy.” But she didn’t sound so sure.

  “I didn’t say she wasn’t. Beau’s happy enough, too, I suppose.” Way to go, Audy. The last thing he’d wanted to do was make her doubt her sister’s happiness. “But I do think they could be happier.”

  Brooke stared at him, slowly crossing her arms over her chest. “Audy.” She took a deep breath. “How about we talk about tomorrow?”

  It was a pretty pathetic dodge, but he’d let it be—for now. There was plenty of time to wear her down about Beau and Tess, and while he’d never gone the slow-and-steady way of going about things, he figured this might be the perfect time to give it a try. “I’m showing up at noon. You’re going to work until five. Joy will sleep for two hours when I first get here. When she wakes up, I change her diaper and get her a snack.” It’s not like they hadn’t gone over the schedule she’d stuck on the refrigerator about a dozen times.

  Brooke nodded.

  “After that, we play.” He sighed. “And, if she needs it, I change her diaper again. Did I miss anything?”

  “No.” Her gaze shifted to the refrigerator. “All my numbers—”

  “Are taped right there beside the schedule.” He stood then, crossing to her. “I get that you’ve got a bit of a control streak...” Seeing Brooke get her back up made him frown. Every now and then, things were so peaceable between them he’d forget how defensive she could get. With me, anyway. “Back up. Forget that, will you? What I mean is I get that leaving Joy with me likely goes against every instinct you’ve got, but this is what we decided on.” He was thankful Brooke had voiced her opinion on waiting to put Joy into day care. It’d happen eventually, but he didn’t mind keeping it just them for now. They’d both work half days this week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday he’d do afternoons and stay for dinner and bath. Tuesday and Thursday, he’d be over before the sun was up to get Joy out of bed and ready for the day. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll figure something else out, okay?”

  “It will work.” Brooke’s gaze met his, the sheer determination in the slight tilt of her head was a challenge. The spark in her big, hazel eyes had Audy leaning in. Her eyes weren’t just brown, they were a whole host of shades flecked with gold. “It will.”

  The sudden pressure in Audy’s chest was so great his only option wa
s to nod.

  She smelled like the lemon hand soap and lotion she kept by all the sinks in the house. Up until now, he hadn’t thought there was anything special about the scent of a lemon. How wrong he’d been. Lemon was his new favorite scent. Warm. Fresh. Light. Clean.

  She’d fixed the band holding her hair too many times to count but it had already slid down, barely hanging on to one thick strand. Up close like this, he saw threads of red and copper woven through the waves of her caramel-colored hair. The urge to reach out, to slide his fingers through the softness, made his hands flex. He should not reach around to slide the band from her hair... This is Brooke... He definitely shouldn’t take another step closer to her.

  Her eyes went wider but she didn’t step back—she didn’t move. Only the slightest hitch of her breath and the waver of her shirtfront assured him she wasn’t immune to the current drawing them together. “What are you doing?” It was a whisper.

  I’m thinking about kissing you. He tried to imagine saying that out loud but couldn’t. Brooke would put him in his place so fast, his head would spin. Even if she was thinking the same thing, she’d never let on. “Nothing.” He reached around her for the hair band, but the slide of her hair against his fingertips sent warmth rushing up his arm and down his spine. It so surprised him, he stepped back, unsteady, and knocked the kitchen counter with his hip. The bin full of clean baby bottles fell onto the floor at their feet.

  Harvey jerked up, his massive head cocked to one side, as bottles and caps rolled across the tile floor.

  “Here.” He held out the band but couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Audy Briscoe, you’re a fool. Whatever that was, it could never happen again.

  She took the band from him but stayed quiet.

  Instead of acknowledging the mounting tension in the room, Audy picked up the bin and set about collecting all the bits and pieces he’d spilled. When that was done and the room was still quiet, Audy dared to look in Brooke’s direction.

  No Brooke.

  He was alone.

  Well, Harvey was there—his thick plume of a tail thumping against the tile and a pink plastic baby bottle in his mouth.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Audy retrieved the bottle and carried the whole tub to the kitchen sink. One of the things Brooke had harped on and on about was keeping everything as clean as possible. That went double for things like bottles and pacifiers. “No germs for Joy,” he murmured to Harvey, who trotted across the floor to sit at his feet.

  He washed everything, twice, using the little bottlebrush to scrub every nook and cranny. When everything was hanging on the bottle rack, he gave Harvey a pat on the head and surveyed the rest of the room. Since Brooke had disappeared and he could hear Tess singing nonsense songs to Joy in the bathroom, he started washing the dinner dishes.

  Audy had cleaned and dried and put everything away when Tess walked into the kitchen with Joy.

  “She’s all ready for bed,” Tess said, cuddling Joy close. “She sure loves her bath time.” She turned. “Where’s Brooke?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess something came up.” He reached out for Joy, who waved. “But I don’t mind putting Miss Muffet to bed.”

  “Is that your nickname for her?” Tess asked, shifting Joy into his arms. “I think that’s sweet. I love that nursery rhyme.”

  “I don’t remember much—except for the Miss Muffet part.” He bounced Joy. He was by no means comfortable with something so little in his arms, but he didn’t immediately worry about dropping her.

  “Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet...” Tess broke off. “I don’t know what a tuffet is?”

  “You got me,” Audy admitted with a shrug.

  Tess went on and on, “Along came a spider who sat down bedside her and frightened Miss Muffet away.”

  Audy frowned. “What is it with these nursery rhymes and songs? Spiders and old women and babies rocking in the treetops.” When he’d been young, he’d never pondered the words to the songs and poems read to him from storybooks. Mostly, he liked the pictures and sitting in his mom’s lap while she read. They were good memories. “I’m not sure those Mother Goose people liked children all that much.” He wrinkled up his nose and puffed out his cheeks.

  Joy giggled.

  “What?” Tess asked, giggling herself. “Why do you say that?”

  “If they did, they’d sing about cupcakes and baby animals or lemonade and sunshine. Not spiders scaring you. Or old women eating a farmyard of animals. Or babies falling out of trees. Who thinks that’s the sort of thing that’ll ease a child into sleep?” Audy tapped Joy on the nose. “How about we come up with a new version of ‘Miss Muffet,’ Joy? No tuffets or spiders.”

  Joy clapped.

  “See, that’s just what we’ll do tomorrow.” For the first time, thinking about tomorrow made him nervous. It was silly, he and Joy were getting on just fine. But if Joy fussed or cried, he could hand her off to Tess or Brooke and not be forced to face her lip-flip or big dewdrop tears that twisted his heart into knots.

  “I look forward to hearing it.” Tess patted Joy on the back, then resumed her place at the kitchen table—textbook open and pencil in hand.

  “For now, let’s get you to bed, eh, Miss Muffet?” He carried Joy down the hall to her nursery. He turned on the night-light and sat in the rocking chair. “You see all the butterflies?” he asked, pointing at the ceiling. The night-light shade rotated slowly, casting butterfly silhouettes all about the room, while Audy rocked and rocked and little Joy went soft and pliant, sound asleep in his arms. He sat awhile longer, then carefully stood and carried Joy to the crib. Slowly, he bent forward, holding Joy close until he could ease her onto the mattress. He pulled up the pink and white blankets and stood back to make sure he’d done it right. She seemed so still. Too still. He reached over the side of the crib and rested his hand on Joy’s chest so he could feel the thump of her heart against his palm.

  He nodded, then backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Since there was no reason for him to linger, he told Tess good-night and led Harvey out the front door. It didn’t sit right, leaving without saying goodbye to Brooke, but it might be for the best. The last thing he needed to do was get caught up in all the little details that made Brooke downright...irresistible. No. No woman was irresistible. Which was good because, irresistible or not, Brooke Young was the one woman he couldn’t have.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “YOU CAN SIT UP,” Brooke said, squeezing out Kelly Schneider’s hair before wrapping it in a towel.

  “Can you believe it?” Kelly Schneider held the towel in place and moved to the salon chair.

  “No.” If what Kelly had heard was true, it was a scandal in the making. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. Garrison was built around The First Tree, Der erste Baum to the descendants of the original German settlers. It was part of the town’s history, the town’s logo, and the location of many celebrations and gatherings. There was no way a true Garrisonite would allow the massive tree to be cut down. It didn’t make sense. “But, why would Lance Devlin be considering this? He’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but this? His aunt can’t be the least bit happy about this.” His aunt, Martha Zeigler—the wealthiest woman in four counties—would never let anything happen to The First Tree. It was the very heart of Garrison.

  “I’m certain she hasn’t caught word of his scheme yet.” Kelly’s gaze met Brooke’s. “But when she does, boy-howdy things are going to be interesting.”

  Brooke had to chuckle then. “That’s one way of putting it.” But Kelly was right. Nothing and no one could get past Martha Zeigler. “She’ll put a stop to it.”

  “I might even feel a little sorry for old Lance,” Kelly added.

  Brooke met her gaze in the mirror.

  “Nah,” they said in unison.

  “As far as I know, Lance didn’t come this
morning, not that I’d known any of this then. But he is on the schedule for a shave next Monday morning.” Brooke ran a comb through Kelly’s shoulder-length black hair. “I’ll stop by with Joy to give him an extra donut and see what I can get out of him.”

  Her mother had started Monday Morning Shave and a Donut. It was the one day a week the shop opened early, had donuts and coffee on hand and offered a good old-fashioned shave. Relaxing the chair back into a comfortable angle. A steaming towel wrap. The first coat of lather. Another steam wrap. Then more lather and, finally, a straight-razor shave. It wasn’t just the shave that brought the men in, though. It was the camaraderie. It was the one day a week they could converge for a little pampering, coffee and donuts, and male companionship. She and the other stylists kept talk to a minimum, listening closely but interjecting very little. These were the decision makers, the old-timers, the ones who knew and saw all—Mondays never failed to deliver an inside scoop or a new perspective on some town lore. Granted, as this was her first day away from Joy, she was a little scattered but that wouldn’t last.

  Next Monday, she’d be ready for Lance Devlin. Once he was hired as the city manager and moved to Garrison, he’d shown up every Monday. Without fail, he arrived a good thirty minutes after most of the other men. It was probably a good thing since the others didn’t think too highly of him. To them, he was an outsider. But, to them, you were an outsider if your family hadn’t been in Garrison for, oh, several generations. Lance Devlin might have been Martha Zeigler’s nephew but, to the menfolk, that didn’t count.

  No wonder he didn’t show up this week. Who knows how the men would have treated him?

  “So—” Kelly’s tone changed, more hesitant than before “—how’s it going?”

  Brooke focused on trimming away Kelly’s dead ends. “Fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kelly tapped her nails on the arms of the chair. “You know you’re going to have to give me more than that, don’t you?”

  “What do you want to know?” Brooke hedged. Thankfully, Kelly was too polite to ask anything too probing.

 

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