by Marin Thomas
Probably best. The more you help out Amy the more she’ll ask for.
No. Amy wasn’t another Kayla and gut instinct insisted Amy would pay him back eventually.
That’s what Kayla said when you offered to buy the new equipment for her beauty shop.
All along he’d believed Kayla when she’d claimed she’d wanted nothing to do with the Cartwright millions. She’d hoodwinked him. He’d stupidly set her up in business and paid off her bills while Kayla had been two-timing him with her ex-boyfriend.
“I have a game plan,” Amy said, shifting toward Matt. Her feminine scent chased away the ugly memories of the past. “Beginning Monday, I’m taking a three-week data-entry course. When I finish, I intend to find a job.”
“Why another job? Once you sell SOS—”
“Whether I sell the stud or euthanize him, I need a job that provides decent health coverage for me and the girls.”
Matt admired Amy’s sound thinking. She wasn’t waiting around to be rescued, she was taking her family’s future into her own hands.
“But I have a problem,” she continued. “Two problems, actually.”
Suspicious, he asked, “What are they?”
Eyes glues to her lap, she played with the hem of her blouse. “I don’t have the money to make my June mortgage payment.”
Told you so. “I’ll take care of it.”
Chin high, she said, “I’ll reimburse you as soon as I land a job.”
Maybe he was a fool, but he believed her. “And the second problem?”
“The babysitter’s parents won’t allow her to watch the girls while you’re working on the farm.”
“Why not?”
“You’re a stranger around here. Even though I vouched for you as did Jake Taylor, this is a small community and folks are distrustful of outsiders.”
Reining in his frustration, Matt insisted, “I have to work with SOS day in and day out to prepare him for breeding my mares,” he argued.
“I’m sorry, but taking the girls to class with me would be a disaster.”
“This wasn’t part of our deal.” He considered towing his mares and the stallion back to the Lazy River for the summer, but then he’d have to contend with his father sticking his nose into Matt’s business. “I’ll speak with your babysitter’s parents and assure them I’m no threat to their daughter.”
“I offered as much. They said no.”
Matt set his mug on the porch railing and stood. “I’m sorry, Amy. You’ll have to make other arrangements for the girls, because I’m staying right here with SOS.”
His statement rendered Amy speechless, so he headed to the barn, wondering how the hell his plans for a good-night kiss had gotten derailed.
Chapter Five
“Watcha doing?”
Standing on a stool in the middle of the tack room, pitchfork high above his head, Matt froze. “Watch out, Rose. There’s a huge rat on the loose.”
A sweat broke out across Matt’s forehead. When he was a kid he’d gotten bit by a rat and had undergone a series of painful rabies shots without a mother’s hand to hold. From that day forward he’d kept his distance from any animal remotely resembling a rat—mice, gerbils, ferrets…squirrels.
He pointed his weapon at the cot across the room. “Hop on the bed before it comes out again.”
She obeyed, using the cot as a trampoline. Too caught up in his fear, Matt hadn’t realized right away that Rose had broken the golden rule on the farm. “You’re not supposed to be in the barn.”
Ignoring the accusation, Rose asked, “How come you don’t eat with us anymore?”
Matt had risen Saturday morning, fired up over Amy’s demand that he leave the farm five hours a day. To his way of thinking she should wait to enroll in the training class until he left the ranch. “I had to run an errand in Rockton yesterday,” he explained, feeling bad that his absence had troubled the little girl.
The errand had to do with Maria’s Cantina and chicken enchiladas. Afterward, he’d strolled around town, wasting a couple of hours before returning to the farm and spending the remainder of the evening at the corral discussing his dilemma with SOS.
Lower lip jutting out, Rose said, “Mama saved you a plate, but you didn’t come get it.”
Amy had kept supper warm for him? No wonder she’d snubbed his greeting this morning when he’d gone up to the house to use the bathroom and grab a cup of coffee. A movement startled Matt and he jabbed the pitchfork toward the corner of the room. “Hah! Scat, you beast!”
The black monster’s long skinny tail stuck out from beneath the workbench, then it spun, red eyes glowing ominously. Matt shivered at the idea of sleeping on a cot six inches above the floor while a rat crawled around.
“Wait!” Rose hopped off the mattress, dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward the workbench.
“Hey!” Matt blocked her path with the pitchfork. “What are you doing?”
“That’s Sophia. She’s my friend.”
“Friend? That’s a rat, Rose. Get back before it bites you.” He hated to see a sweet girl like Rose have to undergo the painful rabies treatment.
“Sophia’s my pet.” She cooed gibberish to the rodent, which didn’t appear wary of humans. “I bet you thought I forgot about you, huh, Sophia?” Rose glanced at Matt. “Sometimes I bring scraps from the table for her.”
Matt wondered if Amy knew about her daughter’s friend.
“But then Daddy died and Mama made me stay out of the barn.” Eyes trained on the rat, she promised, “Next time I’m gonna bring you some cheese.” When Rose stood, the rat scurried from sight. “Aren’t you gonna get down?”
God, he wanted to. “I will as soon as I’m sure Sophia is gone.”
“She won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not taking any chances.” Why the heck was he arguing with a seven-year-old?
“Are you gonna stab her when I leave?”
The question evoked a gross picture in Matt’s head. He supposed he’d have to buy a live trap or he’d be the world’s cruelest cowboy if he killed the animal. “No. I’m trying to scare her so she keeps out of my way.”
“She’s lonely.”
Rats don’t get lonely. Matt scanned the floor one more time, then jumped off the stool. His heartbeat slowed to normal, but he refused to relinquish the pitchfork.
Now that the rat was no longer a threat, it was time to take Rose to task for entering the barn. “I’d better not catch you in here again, understand, young lady?” Most of the time SOS stayed in the paddock, but Matt hated to take a chance that one of the girls would wander through the barn when the stud was in his stall.
Hands on her hips, Rose pouted. “Are you gonna tell Mama?”
“No. You’re going to tell your mother you broke the rule.”
She stamped her foot. “Then I’m gonna tell Mama you’re a fraidy cat.”
Huh?
“And I’m gonna tell all my friends at school that you’re scared of a—” she pinched her forefinger and thumb together “—a teeny, weeny little mouse.”
“Sophia’s a five-pound rat!” he protested.
Crossing her arms over her skinny chest, she said, “So?”
Darn, the little twerp had him over a barrel. He was tempted to call the girl a liar, but that would be mean. “Fine. You don’t tell anyone I’m afraid of rats and I won’t tell your mother that you snuck into the barn.”
Rose’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. “Thanks, Mr. Matt.”
“But there’s a catch,” he added. “You have to promise never to enter the barn again by yourself.”
“But who’s gonna feed Sophia?”
“I will.” He’d love to offer the rodent a handful of poison pellets, but wouldn’t. Once he trapped the thing he’d release it somewhere far away—like Montana.
“Promise?” Rose begged.
“Yes.” He nodded to the doorway. “How do you plan to leave the barn without your mother seeing?”
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br /> Slim shoulders shrugged.
He held out his hand and she took it. His grip swallowed her tiny fingers and he automatically loosened his hold. “C’mon.”
At the barn door he peered out, making a big deal of surveying the yard. “Coast is clear.” Then the squeak of the porch door caught Matt by surprise and he tugged Rose into the shadows.
“Rose! Rose, where are you?”
“Your mom’s heading this way,” he warned.
“I’m busted.” The hangdog expression on the kid’s face was the most pathetic sight he’d seen in ages. She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, Mr. Matt. I’ll still keep your secret.”
“Stay here,” he whispered, then stepped into the light. “Anything wrong, Amy?”
“Have you seen Rose? I told her to take the garbage to the compost pile.”
“She headed inside a few minutes ago,” he lied.
“We must have missed each other.” Amy’s gaze leapt around, refusing to settle on him. He wished she’d make eye contact—staring into her brown eyes gave him a warm, cozy feeling.
“Well.” She scuffed the toe of her boot in the dirt. “I’d better make lunch.” Finally she lifted her head and Matt felt as if he’d been sucked inside a vat of warm, sweet chocolate. His stomach growled loudly.
“You haven’t come up to the house for a meal.” The words were innocent enough, save for the accusatory note in her voice.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He’d avoided the house and Amy for the past two days because he’d feared they’d get into another argument over her demand that he leave the farm when the babysitter arrived tomorrow—which he refused to do.
“Are you planning to eat lunch with us?”
“Ah…”
He must have hesitated too long, because she offered, “I’ll leave a couple of sandwiches in the fridge.”
“Thanks.” Good thing Rose was crouched behind a hay bale six feet away or he’d have brushed aside the damp curl clinging to Amy’s cheek.
“I’d better see about finding my daughter,” she said.
As soon as Amy vanished from sight, Matt pulled Rose from the shadows. “Run like the wind, kid.”
“Thanks, Mr. Matt. You’re the best.”
Matt didn’t feel like the best as he watched Rose sprint across the gravel drive. Amy made him feel like the rat hiding in the barn—a nuisance.
MONDAY MORNING USHERED IN the first week of June. Matt was grumpy. He’d slept in snatches, haunted by nightmares of giant rats cornering him in the barn. At 5:00 a.m. he’d rolled off the cot and dressed, then headed out to check on SOS and the mares. Yesterday had been the first time he’d left the stallion outside all night. He hadn’t wanted to leave the stud in his stall in case Rose snuck back into the barn to check on Sophia.
Being confined in his stall made SOS nervous and Matt had yet to figure out why. He stopped at the corral and clucked his tongue. The stallion whinnied, then trotted closer. Matt offered a sugar cube, which the horse licked off of Matt’s hand like a gentleman. Their goodmorning ritual over, Matt spent a half hour shoveling the dung in the corral. Next he fed and watered the animals before grooming the mares and inspecting them for signs they were coming into season—nothing yet.
Today after SOS ate, Matt had plans to saddle the animal, but right now the stud was more interested in watching Chloe, the feistier of the three mares. Chloe charged the fence separating the two paddocks—as if saying, “come and get me.” SOS played his own hard-to-get game. He snorted, then pranced off, pretending he wasn’t interested in any of the mares.
Matt swung himself onto the top rail and enjoyed the show and the sunrise. He’d regarded Oklahoma sunrises as the prettiest in the country, but admitted the pink light bleeding over the farm’s lush green hills dotted with gnarly oaks was an impressive sight. Amy’s place was a good mile off the county road and only the sounds of chirping birds and whinnying horses filled his ears.
He’d come up with a plan to stay out of the babysitter’s way when she arrived later in the afternoon and hoped Amy would agree to it. After several minutes he hopped down and headed to the house. He knocked on the door. No one answered, so he let himself in. The pitter-patter of little feet echoed upstairs as Amy got Rose ready for school.
After starting a pot of coffee, Matt helped himself to a bowl of Wheaties. Halfway through his breakfast, Lily, with her blond curls sticking up in every direction, shuffled into the room, clutching a pink blanket and sucking her thumb. She paused next to Matt’s chair and studied him with her mother’s big brown eyes.
“Mornin’, Lily,” he said.
The thumb popped out. “Mornin’,” she mimicked, then popped the thumb back into her mouth.
“Ready for breakfast?”
The toddler moved to her high chair and waited to be hoisted up. Matt attempted to loosen the tray, but the task was beyond his cowboy capabilities. Admitting defeat, he laid the chair flat on the floor and slid Lily in feetfirst, then righted the seat. Her blanket was in the way of the safety buckle, so he grabbed it—big mistake. The kid let out a wail that threatened to wake her dead relatives sleeping up the hill.
Matt improvised by flinging the blanket over Lily’s head, then snapping the buckle closed. When he went to tug the blanket off her, Lily shouted, “No!”
Now what? He knew zilch about two-year-olds. Did you offer them a choice of foods for breakfast or dump the cereal on the tray? “What do you want to eat, Lily?”
A muffled “Churos” answered back.
“Cheerios I can do, kid.” He retrieved the cereal box from the pantry and poured a pile on the tray. Then he found the pink cup with the lid he’d seen the little girl use at mealtimes and filled it with milk. When Lily tugged the blanket off her head, her hair crackled with electricity. “Dig in.” He shoveled a spoonful of soggy Wheaties into his mouth.
The toddler frowned, her eyes shifting to Matt, then to the cereal. “You have to stop sucking your thumb to eat, Lily.”
She sucked the digit harder. Amy’s voice—her sharp tone signaling that Rose wasn’t cooperating—carried into the kitchen. “Sounds like Mommy’s in a baaad mood, kiddo. I’d eat if I were you.”
The threat went unheeded. The little twerp’s cheeks continued to puff in and out as she sucked her thumb and rubbed the corner of the blanket against her nose.
Matt stared.
Lily stared.
They were at an impasse.
Amused by the child’s stubbornness, he picked up a Cheerio from the tray and aimed it at her mouth. “Catch,” he said. The cereal ricocheted off her nose and her eyes crossed. “Strike one,” he muttered, picking up another Cheerio. “Catch.” This time the oat ring pinged off her forehead. The kid’s lips twitched.
“Try to catch the Cheerio in your mouth.” Matt missed her mouth and the Cheerio landed in her hair. Lily giggled.
He got caught up in the game and began firing Cheerios in quick succession, which earned him a belly laugh from Lily. When her thumb slid out of her mouth, Matt landed a piece of cereal on her tongue. Lily’s eyes rounded, then she closed her mouth and chewed. As soon as she swallowed, she said, “Again,” and opened her mouth.
Matt praised her while he tossed Cheerios. She’d finished half the cereal on the tray when Amy waltzed into the room. Her stunned gaze switched between Matt and her daughter, who had Cheerios stuck in her hair. “What are you doing? She’s not a dog you throw treats to.”
“I wanna play.” Rose climbed onto the chair across from Matt, leaned over the table and opened her mouth.
“Rose, stop. You know better. Obviously Mr. Cartwright does not.”
They were back to Mr. Cartwright again? “Sorry,” Matt muttered, wondering if Amy intended to spank him—now that had possibilities. He admired her backside as she popped a waffle into the toaster. She must have sensed his scrutiny because she glanced over her shoulder and caught him focusing on her fanny. Despite the pretty blush suffusing her cheeks, her eyes flashed a
warning. He grinned. “No harm in looking.”
“Looking at what, Mr. Matt?” Rose asked.
Your mother’s enticing derrière.
“Never mind. Rose, fetch the syrup bottle.” Amy waltzed past the high chair and snatched Lily’s blanket. Not a sound of protest from the pipsqueak. Mothers made everything seem easy.
“Eat fast, honey. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes.” Amy stuffed a purple sparkled lunch box with an odd assortment of food, then filled the matching thermos with apple juice.
Realizing his talk with Amy would have to wait until Rose left for school, he relaxed in the chair and observed the girls’ morning routine. “Do you like school, Rose?”
“It’s okay. Reading time is fun.”
“Reading is good.” Matt often read while he traveled the circuit—mostly thrillers. He searched for another question. “Do you like riding the bus?”
“Yep. I sit next to Butch. He lets me read to him.”
What kind of boy was this Butch? Matt wouldn’t have been caught dead listening to a girl read to him. He watched Amy, noting the dark circles that rimmed her eyes. What had kept her up last night?
She glanced at the wall clock and frowned. “Would you mind driving Rose to the bus stop?”
“Yeah, Mr. Matt.” Rose sat straighter in her chair. “You can see my bus.”
“Bus!” Lily screamed and Matt jumped three inches off his seat.
Rose giggled and Lily joined in until Amy scolded, “Enough!” Then she said to her youngest, “Lily stays with Mommy.”
Rose hopped off her chair. “We better go ’cause my sister’s gonna cry.”
He hadn’t recalled agreeing to limo service, but didn’t object when he saw Lily’s cheeks glow tomato-red. The kid was about to blow a gasket. He held open the door. Rose hugged Amy, grabbed her lunch box off the counter and shot out of the house. With a last lingering glance at Amy, he left. The screen door hadn’t even closed when Lily let loose a wail.