Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3)

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Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3) Page 2

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond


  “Not so far, thank goodness. My mom didn’t have it with me or Naomi, so maybe I’ll dodge that bullet. Mom said the women in her family tend to take childbirth in stride.”

  “That’s lucky.” He drove with easy confidence.

  He made love with easy confidence, too. She’d never been with someone who was the perfect combo of relaxed and intense. She needed to derail that train of thought ASAP or the question about sex or no sex would be moot. She concentrated on the spectacular mountain scenery out the window instead of the gorgeous cowboy beside her.

  “I never asked you, but is Ricchetti Italian?”

  “Portuguese.”

  “Portuguese? Now that’s interesting. What about your mom?”

  “She also has Portuguese ancestors by a weird coincidence.”

  “Everybody says the baby will take after you instead of me because dark eyes and hair are dominant over light hair and eyes.”

  “It’s not a done deal. My family tends toward dark hair and brown eyes, but there could be a throwback to a distant ancestor. I could have a towhead.”

  “We could have a towhead.”

  “Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I want to be part of this, but I have to warn you I’m the weak link. I’ll need parenting classes and tons of coaching. I know zilch about babies.”

  A slow ache built in her chest. Clearly this was an area in which he didn’t feel confident. His plans for educating himself were sweet, but might be unnecessary. “Considering the baby and I will be more than six hundred miles away, you might not need to spend too much time on—”

  “I’ll make the drive.”

  “CJ, it’s a ten-hour trip.”

  “I’m aware. I figured it out. I can’t afford to fly on a regular basis, so I’ll schedule three days off whenever possible.”

  “That sounds like tough duty, twenty hours of driving for a very short stay.”

  “Not as tough as you’ll have it on a regular basis. I’ve talked with Sarah at Gertie’s Sandwich Shop. She had a baby seven weeks ago, but her mom’s in charge of the shop, so Sarah doesn’t have full responsibility for the operation like you do. I don’t know how you’ll run Cup of Cheer and take care of a newborn.”

  “I’ll have seven months to figure it out.”

  “Who did you put in charge for this week?”

  “My little sister. When I took time off for the wedding, I made sure my veteran staff members would be there, but this was last minute. Two of my key people are on vacation and I hate to dump full responsibility on her for a week, but…”

  “Should be okay.”

  “Hope so. I considered making it a three-day trip, but Naomi and my folks talked me into taking a full week. They don’t think we should rush this discussion.”

  “I like them already.”

  “They like you already, especially after I told them how you responded to my phone call.”

  “How do they feel about the baby?”

  “Like you, they’re worried about how I’ll manage the coffee shop and a baby. But they’re excited about having a grandchild.”

  “Henri’s excited about that, too.”

  “Your boss? Are you related to her?”

  “Not officially. None of us are, but we’re all her boys, anyway. She’s… she’s hoping you’ll bring the baby for visits. She wants to do the grandmother thing.”

  “I will bring the baby as often as I can manage. You shouldn’t have to do all the traveling. It’s just that I—”

  “You have a business to run and I don’t. I’ll make the drive. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this.”

  A lump lodged in her throat. “Thanks, CJ.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I should probably find out what that stands for.”

  “What?”

  “CJ. When I fill out this child’s birth certificate, I don’t want to put down initials for the father’s name. I’m assuming they stand for something.”

  He grinned. “They do.”

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Cornelius Jasper Andrews.”

  She stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

  “Not kidding. And I challenge you to find a decent nickname somewhere in that combo. Other than CJ.”

  “Neil?”

  He glanced at her. “Do I look like a Neil to you?”

  “Definitely not. CJ sounds like a cowboy.”

  He laughed. “I thought so, too, and here I am.”

  “Did you ever go by Cornelius?”

  “The first five years of my life. Then I started school and figured out real quick that wasn’t going to fly. I’ve been CJ ever since.”

  “I’ve never met a Cornelius.”

  “Me, either. When my mother was in high school she did a report on Cornelius Vanderbilt. She said naming me after him might bring me good luck. Maybe I’d be destined for fame and fortune, too.”

  “Then I’m confused about Jasper. She could have given you Vanderbilt as a middle name to add even more fairy dust.”

  “I figure Jasper was my father’s name, but she said it wasn’t. She was barely seventeen when I was born. My best guess is that my dad’s family had money and they bought her off. She refused to tell me who my dad was, but she got monthly checks from a lawyer’s office. She wouldn’t reveal the source of those, either.”

  “Are you in touch with her?”

  “She died in a car accident when I was sixteen.”

  “Oh, dear. Were you in the car?”

  “No. She was on her way to work.”

  “That’s sad. Both of you were so young.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t take it well. I hated the idea of foster care, which is where I was likely headed, so I left town. Drifted from place to place working odd jobs for almost three years. Then Charley hired me.”

  “Henri’s late husband?”

  “Yep. I only had a father figure for six years, but I doubt I could have picked a better one if I’d tried.”

  “He must have been a wonderful guy. When Lucy wasn’t raving about how adorable Matt was, she’d go on about Henri and Charley. Her family vacations to the Buckskin Ranch were her favorite thing.”

  “Henri and Charley doted on her, too.” He paused. “Did Lucy ever mention me?”

  “Oh, yeah, she talked about all the guys. Jake, the tease, Nick, the bottomless pit, Leo, the beautiful one, Rafe, the gentle giant. Of course, Matt was the principal focus of her cowboy fantasies.”

  “Sounds like she had a designation for each of us.”

  “She did.”

  “You neglected to mention mine.”

  “The sweet one who sort of played guitar.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Don’t worry. She told me later you’d become really good at it.”

  “I’m fine with the mediocre musician label. It’s the sweet one that makes me cringe.”

  “Why do men hate being called sweet? It’s a compliment.”

  “It’s only one notch above nice, which is the kiss of death for getting dates. I’m surprised you had anything to do with me if she told you I was sweet.”

  “It so happens I like that in a man.”

  “Lucky me.”

  She hesitated. “Do you mean that?”

  “Absolutely.” He looked over at her in surprise. “Did you think I was being sarcastic?”

  “Well, people do say lucky me when referring to bad luck, and if I hadn’t invited you to spend the night, you wouldn’t be facing—”

  “If you hadn’t invited me to spend the night, I would have missed out on one of the peak experiences of my life.”

  Her breath stalled. “That’s how you think of it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He returned his attention to the road. “I know it’s landed us in a sticky situation, but I wouldn’t change anything.”

  She slowly released air from her lungs, and the tension that had plagued her since she
’d made her phone call on Friday flowed out with it. “Neither would I.”

  Chapter Three

  During the one-hour drive from Great Falls International, CJ had revealed more about his history than he’d shared with anyone, including the Brotherhood. But Isabel was carrying their child. She deserved to know everything he could tell her.

  He slowed as they approached Apple Grove. An apple-shaped billboard announced the town’s slogan—Johnny Appleseed’s Success Story! The road led to the square, but he planned to hang a right before they got there and take the two-lane out to the ranch.

  He glanced at her. “Need anything from town before we head out?”

  “A bathroom. Mom warned me I’d have to go a lot and I didn’t believe her, so I drank plenty of water on the plane like I usually do to stay hydrated. And now…I believe my mom.”

  “No worries. Sarah told me about that, too. We can head to the sandwich shop and grab a snack, too, if you’re hungry.”

  “That’s perfect. It’s called Gertie’s Sandwich Shop, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Who is Gertie? Is she still around?”

  “The original Gertie has passed. She left the sandwich shop to Sarah’s grandmother, who decided to use the name Gertie whenever she was in the shop. Her daughter, Sarah’s mom, followed suit and it became a tradition. Sarah is a fourth-generation Gertie.” He spotted a diagonal parking space right in front.

  “That’s good marketing. Did Sarah have a girl?”

  “She did. If the tradition continues, Sarah will inherit the business and her daughter will follow in her footsteps.” Pots of geraniums sat outside and two small umbrella tables, each with a couple of chairs, created a mini sidewalk cafe. Lunchtime was over and no one was taking advantage of the ambiance.

  “That’s cool, that they’ve kept the shop in the family that long. Speaking of passing things on, I need to update my will.”

  “There’s a jolly subject.”

  “Wills are necessary, though. Do you have a will?”

  “No, ma’am.” He parked the truck and shut off the engine.

  “You should probably get one.”

  “But I don’t have any assets to—”

  “Gotta go. See you in there.” She was out of the truck in a flash and flung the door closed.

  He hopped down and followed her, but she was through the glass front door of Gertie’s before he had a chance to open it for her. Clearly he’d miscalculated the urgency of the situation. Next time he’d know better.

  When he walked in, she was nowhere to be seen. A young couple he didn’t recognize, likely tourists, were having a late lunch in the far corner by the front window, but otherwise, the place was deserted.

  Sarah stood behind the counter and gave him a smile. She’d cut her blond hair short since having the baby. “I take it that was Isabel who zipped into the restroom?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I thought I recognized her from the last time she was in town. How’s she doing?”

  “Good, I think. No morning sickness so far. She just needed a bathroom real quick.”

  “It comes with the territory. You folks want something to eat?”

  “Probably just a snack. How’s little Amy?”

  “Fine. She’s asleep in the kitchen.”

  “You brought her?”

  “Best option when John’s at work and I need to be here. Mom loves having Amy around. She just went back to check on her.” She made air quotes. “We have a baby monitor so there’s no need, but Mom likes watching her granddaughter sleep. It’s cute how she dotes on that little girl.”

  “I wonder if Isabel has thought of taking the baby to work with her.”

  “Why not? You said she owns the coffee shop. She—ah, here she comes. Hi, Isabel! I made an educated guess that’s who you were.”

  Isabel walked over to the counter. “And you’re Sarah, aka Gertie?”

  “Most days I’m Sarah-slash-Gertie. But sometimes I prefer to think of myself as Queen Esmeralda, living in a castle and waited on by handmaidens.”

  Isabel laughed. “I might need to steal that fantasy once the baby’s born. CJ said you’ve talked to him about pregnancy and childbirth.”

  “I have, although everybody’s different. He mentioned you’ve been spared morning sickness. That’s a win.”

  “So I hear. Considering that, I can’t complain about the bathroom issue.”

  “Any food cravings?”

  “Right now, anything salty, preferably a carb.”

  “How does a serving of wedge-cut fries sound?”

  “Orgasmic.”

  CJ blinked. Had she really said that? After their recent discussion, which had him thinking he’d be taking a lot of cold showers? He glanced at her and she had the good grace to blush and look away.

  Sarah turned to him. “What’ll you have?”

  “The same, thanks.” Maybe warm fries could be a substitute for hot sex. He doubted it, but he might have to make do. “Izzy, want to sit outside?”

  “Love to.”

  “Good choice, guys. It’s gorgeous out there.” She glanced at Isabel. “Something to drink?”

  “Apple cider, please. I’ll have to lay off the hard version but the regular is delicious, too.”

  “I’ll have one, as well.” CJ took money from his wallet and added a tip to the amount showing on the cash register. “Thanks, Sarah.”

  “You bet.” She handed him a receipt. “Go soak up some sunshine. I’ll bring your order out in a few minutes.” She started toward the kitchen. “Aha! I hear Amy.”

  Isabel glanced in that direction as muted wails punctuated by jerky hiccups filtered through the swinging kitchen door. “Your daughter?”

  She nodded. “My mom’s watching her. Naptime must be over.”

  “I would love to see her.”

  “I’ll bring her out after she’s fed and changed. My Mom will be taking care of your order.” She pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  “Sarah’s just given me an idea.”

  “I thought she might.”

  “Naomi’s looking forward to this baby, so she’d probably like the idea of bringing him or her to work.”

  “Beats getting a sitter.” He gestured toward the door. “Let’s go claim our table.”

  She laughed. “Before someone else does?” She started toward the front of the shop, which was empty now that the young couple had left. “Somehow I expected Apple Grove to be bustling now that the snow’s gone.”

  “The tourists are here, but they’re out and about this time of day.” He followed her. “We tend to get active folks. They’re out riding, or they’ve gone to Glacier for the day, or they’re exploring the hiking trails in this area. The Choosy Moose will be jumping tonight, which usually isn’t true on a Monday in the winter.”

  “I’d love to go to the Moose while I’m here, even if I can’t have hard cider.”

  “Then plan on it.” This time he managed to get the door for her. “I’m sure the gang will be up for a Choosy Moose evening.”

  “Hope so.” She pointed to the table closest to the door. “Let’s take this one.”

  He pulled out a chair for her. “For the staff’s convenience?”

  “Yeah, I do it automatically, now. In this case, it doesn’t matter so much, but why not save them a few steps?” She glanced over her shoulder as he helped her into her chair. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a seat across from her.

  “Lucy told me the Buckskin cowboys are big on manners, but until I came to the wedding, I thought she was exaggerating.”

  “Henri and Charley worked on us.” The canvas chair was on the small side, but the view across the table was primo. Isabel’s dark hair fell in shiny waves around her slender shoulders and her deep-set brown eyes held that special gleam that said she was happy to be with him. He could look at Isabel all day. And all night, for that matter.

  “Henri
and Charley gave you instructions on how to behave?”

  “Sometimes. Mostly they set an example and expected us to follow it. Seth had manners from the get-go because he was raised on the Buckskin. The rest of us had some rough edges. Henri and Charley sanded them off.”

  “I can’t imagine you with rough edges. Did your mom let you get away with stuff?”

  “All the time.”

  “She did?”

  “You have to remember she was still in high school when she had me. She made a stab at being an adult, but she was more of a buddy than a mom. I asked for a guitar and she got me one. Sold some collectible dolls she’d been given as a kid.”

  “She sounds very loving.”

  “Loving, yes, but she was no disciplinarian. I wasn’t used to following rules, which is why I lit out to escape living with foster parents. I knew they’d make me toe the line.”

  “Why did you agree to follow rules at the Buckskin?”

  “I fell in love with the place. And the people. Henri and Charley taught me that being a cowboy involved more than riding and roping skills. They demanded a respectful attitude, kindness to those less fortunate and courage in the face of adversity.”

  Her expression softened. “That’s you all over. You showed all those things when I called you on Friday.”

  He grinned. “I was quaking in my boots.”

  “Me, too. Except I wasn’t wearing boots.”

  “Do you have any?”

  “Girly ones with four-inch heels, but that day I had on flats.”

  “You don’t have riding boots?”

  “I’ve never been on a horse.”

  “What?”

  The gleam of amusement was back. “Not everyone makes that a priority, you know.”

  “Lucy didn’t take you when you were here for the wedding?”

  “We didn’t have time. She promised we’d go out this visit.”

  “Is it safe for the baby?”

  “So I’ve been told. Besides, I’m a beginner. We’ll only be moseying down the trail.”

  “I’d like to take you out, too, then.”

  “I don’t know about that, CJ.” She was smiling, though, which usually didn’t signal a rejection. “I’m not sure I could handle it.”

  “Why? It would be exactly like going with Lucy. We’d meander down the trail at a snail’s pace.”

 

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