The Rancher's Unexpected Baby

by Jill Lynn

  Crazy to think it had only been six days since he’d moved Hudson to the ranch. Life had become a whirlwind of diapers and stinted sleep. Gage’s mind had been in constant prayer mode. Please comfort Hudson. Don’t let me mess up his life in the time he’s here. Help me find the right home for him. And thank You for Emma.

  No way would he or Hudson be surviving any of this without her. When she arrived in the mornings, Gage’s muscles relaxed like overcooked pasta noodles. Hudson greeted her with waving arms and megagrins.

  Emma made everything better. She couldn’t help it. It was just the effect she had on the world.

  That had to be why his house felt so empty when she left.

  Gage finished feeding Hudson, wiped his face and hands, removed his bib and plucked him from the high chair. It was six o’clock. He’d been putting Hudson to bed around eight—at Emma’s suggestion—and the schedule had been working.

  “Well?” Gage held Hudson, tapping a finger against his nose, which Hudson promptly caught and then attempted to eat. “What’s our plan? Do you want to get out of the house? Go to the talent show and see Ruby?” Hudson’s two bottom teeth pressed into the flesh of Gage’s finger, and he removed it from the baby’s grasp, wiping the slobber on his jeans.

  Maybe Emma was right. Gage could use a night out. And Hudson lit up around Ruby. Surely a bunch of performing kids would hold his attention for a little bit.

  Plus, Emma would be there, so Gage would have help with the baby. And her company. “One later night won’t hurt, will it?” He’d make sure they were home by eight thirty or nine at the latest.

  Hudson crawled around Gage’s room while he laced up his leather boots and changed into a button-down checked shirt. The boy was dressed in a onesie that proclaimed he was “cute as a button”—true story—along with soft pants made of the same material. He wore socks that resembled tennis shoes, and since he couldn’t walk yet, Gage assumed shoes weren’t necessary.

  The drive to the church was uneventful, and Gage’s lungs leaked with relief when they arrived unscathed. They’d managed step one. Now on to the next. Should he take the car seat in? Or unbuckle Hudson?

  Questions like this shouldn’t be so hard, but he was a newbie. Gage decided to rescue Hudson from the car seat since the boy didn’t love being strapped into it. He tugged a winter hat on him and wrapped him in his blanket in lieu of a coat. The idea of wrestling the little monkey into a jacket didn’t appeal to him.

  He and Hudson arrived in the sanctuary just as the children’s director was making announcements. They should probably sit in the back so he could escape at the first sign of trouble.

  But then Emma waved at him from near the front. The skin around her eyes crinkled, her lips bowed and she looked like home. How could he resist? Gage hurried to their row, greeting Luc, Cate and Mackenzie as he scooted past all of them to the open seat next to Emma. Had she saved him a spot? Based on the packed pews, he’d say yes.

  “I’d just about given up on you two.” Hudson lunged into her arms, and she removed his hat and smoothed the static from his hair. “Hey there, handsome.” She smooched Hudson’s cheek, creating a noise that made him giggle.

  Emma had changed her clothes since she’d been at Gage’s. She wore black leggings and boots, a loose wrap with dotted shirtsleeves peeking out. Her hair was down, tempting him to explore the level of softness, and, to top it all off, the woman smelled like dessert. Sweet. Cinnamon.

  Gage leaned in her direction as he took off his coat, skin tingling at the close proximity to her. “You changed clothes.”

  That’s what came out of his mouth? He’d been aiming for more of a compliment than an observation.

  “I had Hudson drool and a bit of plum on my shirt from today, so...” Her shoulders lifted.

  “You look really nice.” There. That was better. Though pretty would have been a more fitting—albeit trouble-inducing—description.

  Her chin jutted back slightly in surprise. “Thanks.” And then the lilting lips were back, mesmerizing him for a full three seconds. Emma had really great, full lips. She rarely wore anything on them, but tonight they were glossy and as distracting to him as earrings were to Hudson. The boy was currently going at Emma’s like a cat after a laser light.

  She slipped them free from her ears. “Can you hold these?” She dropped the silver dangles into his hand. His fist closed around them as the first performer took the stage and Emma’s attention registered up front.

  Gage tucked them into his front shirt pocket. How could something as simple as Emma removing her earrings without complaint intrigue him so much? She would do anything for Hudson—or really anyone—without a second thought. Emma loved big. She’d make a great mom one day. And an amazing wife. Surprising there wasn’t a line of men at her door waiting to ask her out.

  Come to think of it, Gage didn’t hear much about her dating at all. Why not? Emma was a catch. For someone more fitting, of course. But he could observe, couldn’t he? As long as he didn’t get any crazy ideas that they were right for each other.

  He could just imagine what Luc would have to say about that. No way would he consider Gage, with his messy past and cynical attitude about love, a match for sweet, innocent Emma.

  The first couple of talents—a juggler, a tap dancer, a little girl who sang remarkably well and then one who sang precisely the opposite—all went by pretty quickly. Hudson got passed down the row, and Cate held him for a bit. When Ruby walked onstage, she sent the baby back their way so she could record the performance. Emma kept Hudson when he made it to her. She retrieved a teething ring from the diaper bag, and Hudson chewed on it.

  Before Ruby started, she waved at Luc and Cate, then her aunts, as if greeting her fans before she could proceed. Cate laughed, whispering something in Luc’s ear. Man, what a change. The two of them had turned a one-eighty, completely renewing their relationship in a way that Gage hadn’t thought possible.

  Almost made him believe second chances could actually happen. But Luc and Cate were the exception, not the rule. Plus, if anyone deserved to rebuild a future together, it was them.

  Gage, on the other hand, carried too much blame for what had transpired between himself and Nicole. During their short marriage, Gage had prayed and hoped that they would gel. Mature.

  Love each other with a selfless kind of love. But their relationship had quickly turned rocky. Nicole had begun spending time with friends he didn’t know. Not telling him where she was going or when. And when he’d tried reaching out to her, she’d closed off.

  She’d become self-focused. Demanding. Bitter.

  Hard to love.

  He’d tried to save them, but he hadn’t been enough. Gage still wasn’t sure how it had all gone so off course so quickly. Only that he’d failed. They’d failed. And he wasn’t sure he believed in his ability to make a marriage successful.

  Ruby finished her poem and the audience applauded. Hudson lunged from Emma’s arms to his. Gage held him facing forward, and Hudson stood on his thighs. His legs held for a few seconds at a time, then sagged. They repeated the dance a few times, and then Hudson cocked back and chucked his toy ring toward the pew in front of them. The tossing in and of itself wasn’t that much of a surprise because everything was a hazard in Hudson’s grip. But the fact that it beaned an elderly woman on the shoulder was downright mortifying. Hopefully, she’d be gracious since it was obviously an accident.

  The woman’s chin whipped over her shoulder, and her glare about cut him in two. Of course Hudson hadn’t messed with just anyone. It was ol’ Mrs. Carp. The woman had been terrifying children with her high standards and expectations since the eighteen hundreds, at least. She must be here to see her great-grandchildren perform.

  Gage grimaced. “I’m so sorry.”

  After letting out a growl-hiss combination directed squarely at Gage and his obvious lack of control ov
er a nine-month-old baby, Mrs. Carp whirled to face the front again.

  Emma, who had conveniently disappeared during the exchange, rose up from her crouched-over position.

  “Ah, thanks for leaving me hanging.”

  “What?” Emma’s fingertips landed against her sternum, attempting surprise. “I had to get his teething ring from the floor.” Her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as she handed the ring to Hudson.

  “Your whole doe-eyed expression isn’t going to work on me, woman. I’ve got your number.”

  A laugh burst out of her. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it, but it bubbled up, seeped through the cracks. Gage’s chest rumbled in response. Mrs. Carp would not approve of such revelry. They even earned pinched brows and curious looks from Mackenzie and Cate. Their laughter quieted, but something in Gage had already broken free. When he’d been a teenager, he’d had a nasty flu that had taken him out, and he’d slept for sixteen hours at the tail end, finally waking up to some semblance of normalcy the next morning. Lungs functioning again. Head not being squeezed to oblivion inside a giant-sized vise.

  Alive.

  That’s how Emma made him feel.

  Hudson let out a cry. He’d dropped his toy onto the pew, but this time when Emma offered it back to him his arms flailed, head shaking. He kicked, face twisting, and then he screamed.

  Not good.

  Emma reached for him, and Hudson balked, bending away from her grip, his cry escalating. The program was almost over, but the poor boy onstage playing the piano was getting drowned out.

  Gage had to get out of the sanctuary. He stood, snagged the diaper bag and his coat, then scooted down the row, Hudson flailing in his arms. The backpack bumped into everyone as he tripped out of the pew and then barely resisted a flat-out run for the back of the church.

  Hudson only paused his crying once on the way out, and unfortunately, it was to reload his lungs and then do the impossible—up the volume. Gage crashed out of the sanctuary and into the meeting hall connected to it. Not far enough.

  He exited the church, Hudson’s livid howl filling the otherwise silent night. In his hurry, he’d forgotten Hudson’s blanket, but there was no way he was going back for it now. Gage bundled him inside his jacket and jogged to his SUV.

  What was wrong with the boy? He’d been fed plenty before they’d left for church. And he’d been changed. Gage lifted him and sniffed his diapered bottom like he’d seen mothers do on occasion. He’d always thought the move strange, but now considered it pure survival. No stinky odors wafted toward him, but Hudson’s cry remained despondent.

  Maybe the car ride home would quiet him. Gage dropped the diaper bag on the ground and opened Hudson’s door.

  “Gage.” Emma called, hurrying across the parking lot toward him. “Hey, are you okay?” She had Hudson’s blanket in her hands.

  Hudson’s cry grated like bare skin kissing cement at top speeds. “Nope.” This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to leave the house tonight. He should have followed his instincts.

  “Do you want me to try with him?”

  “It’s okay. We’re just going to head home.”

  He tossed his coat on the floor and placed Hudson in the car seat, and the tantrum upped ten notches. Hudson arched so that Gage couldn’t close the buckle. Finally he got the squirmy bundle locked in, but Gage’s efforts were on par with the energy required for wrangling calves.

  “Do you think he’s hungry? Or has a dirty diaper?” Emma peered into the car seat, a hand on Hudson’s sock-covered foot. “It’s okay, baby. You’re all right.” Her cooing tone didn’t make a dent in Hurricane Hudson.

  “I fed and changed him right before we came. And I just took a whiff of his diaper. It was fine.” Gage shut the back door. “Hopefully, if I drive he’ll calm down.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He hopped into the front seat as Hudson’s cry took on a panicked note. “You don’t have to feel guilty for encouraging us to come, Emma.” Even though my gut was right. “We’ll be fine.” He hoped.

  Gage tore out of the lot. The spurt of speed earned him momentary silence from Hudson, and then the crying kicked back in with renewed strength.

  Gage could only hope and pray he wasn’t in for a long night. Because Hudson hadn’t been this upset since he’d arrived at the ranch. And Gage—despite all of Emma’s encouragement—still didn’t know what he was doing.

  Chapter Five

  Gage walked with Hudson.

  He bounced. Tried the activity saucer. Sippy cup with juice. Numerous toys. A book. A movie. He changed the baby’s diaper. Attempted to feed him a bottle, which he gargled and refused to drink.

  Nothing worked.

  The boy was bent on screaming, and there wasn’t anything Gage could do about it. It was as if everything had come to a head—the loss of his dad, his nanny, any sign of his normal life. Hudson was having a meltdown, and Gage didn’t blame the poor kid.

  He’d read something about laying a baby down and letting them cry it out, but he didn’t think that was the answer. Hudson was too mad. And Gage couldn’t handle listening to the shrill sound without at least attempting to comfort him.

  At this point, he was starting to think Hudson might wail until he turned two.

  Gage’s phone signaled a text from the vicinity of the kitchen. He walked in that direction to check it, but Hudson’s pause in crying made him screech to a halt. The baby had caught sight of his own reflection in the back sliding glass doors. Gage moved closer so he could check it out, but when they neared, Hudson’s face wrinkled and the complaints kicked back into high gear.

  Disappointment squeezed Gage’s lungs.

  For the next half hour, he continued to do everything he could think of, and Hudson continued to howl.

  Gage hated to abandon the boy, even for a second, but he had to use the restroom. He walked into the guest room and laid Hudson in the portable crib.

  The screaming escalated, Hudson’s legs and arms kicking and flailing. “I’ll be right back, buddy. Promise.”

  He hurried into the hall bathroom while Hudson roared. When he returned, the boy’s face was bright red and sopping wet from all of the tears. “If you keep this up, little guy, I just might join you. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand what your dad was thinking picking me for this.” But then, Zeke had likely never imagined that the stopgaps he’d set in place in case of an emergency would actually be used.

  Gage scooped up Hudson and returned to the living room. “I’m not sure what else to do for you, but I can hold you. That’s about all I’ve got left for ideas.” He wiped Hudson’s face with a burp cloth, and the baby hiccuped, his breath coming in spurts as he tried to catch it. Gage settled onto the couch, feeling as if he’d run a marathon tonight. He held Hudson and patted his back, praying silently as he let the boy get it all out.

  Eventually—in what may have been minutes but felt like hours—his screams quieted and his hiccups subsided. Heavy eyelids drooped and opened, then shuttered again.

  The two of them stayed right where they were, Gage more certain than ever that he was the wrong choice to be Hudson’s guardian. How could he raise a baby on his own?

  He couldn’t even manage one night out.

  * * *

  “Let me see your phone.” Cate held her hand out toward Emma from the other end of the couch. The two of them had been hanging out at Cate and Luc’s house since the program. Ruby and Luc had gone to bed, but Cate was a good enough friend to stay up and overanalyze with Emma. “How many texts have you sent Gage since he left church? Are we leaning toward obsessive at this point?”

  Emma groaned and most certainly did not hand over her phone. “Five.”

  “Five?” Cate’s volume shot to deafening levels. “What all did you say?”

  “Hey.” Luc’s voice came through the main floor be
droom door. “Keep it down out there. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  “And some of us are trying to have a conversation! Not everyone goes to bed this early, old man!” Emma’s little-sister retort was answered by a groan from Luc and the sound of a soft object—probably a pillow—hitting the bedroom door.

  She and Cate laughed, Emma’s ending with a snort that increased their giggles.

  Despite teasing Luc, Emma kept her volume low to answer Cate’s earlier question. “First I asked Gage if he was okay, then I asked if he needed help, and then I offered to drive over there.” Their cat, Princess Prim, jumped up on the couch and curled into Emma’s side. She stroked its fur, earning a purr of contentment. When Luc and Prim had first become acquainted, the cat had tortured him. And she’d seemed to enjoy every second. But now that Prim had accepted Luc was a permanent fixture in her life, she’d allowed him to become one of her doting human servants.

  “That’s three.” Cate’s eyebrows reached for her dark chocolate hairline. “What were the other two texts?”

  “One was an apology for making him go out tonight and the other said I was praying for them.”

  Cate’s exhale was coupled with a shaking head, cheeks creasing. “You didn’t make him go to the talent show, and you didn’t do anything wrong, Emma. You were trying to help.”

  But had she been? Or had her motives been on the selfish side? Her getting to see Gage and Hudson. Gage keeping Hudson. “Do you think I should just go over there?”

  “No.” Not a hint of doubt laced Cate’s answer. “I’m sure everything is fine by now.”

  “Then why hasn’t he answered me?” Emma had been glued to her phone since Gage had torn out of the church parking lot.

  Cate sipped her tea, absentmindedly rubbing her growing tummy. “They’ll be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Emma’s eyes supersized. “So many things. Probably not the question to be asking me right now.”