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A Family in Wyoming

Page 3

by Lynnette Kent


  Within minutes, they were sampling the results. Susannah savored the aroma rising from her mug. “I had no idea coffee could taste this rich. I’ll have a pot made at about five thirty tomorrow. And breakfast at six thirty. Will that work for you?”

  Garrett shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I usually make the coffee. As for breakfast—”

  “It’s my job,” she told him with some pride. “Wyatt hired me last night to cook and keep house.”

  The man on the other side of the breakfast bar gazed at her for a long moment. Then he chuckled. “Of course he did. It’s a great idea.” He offered a handshake. “Welcome to the staff at the Circle M. Wyatt is the main one you’ll be making breakfast for, besides yourself and Amber. Occasionally I’ll need something, too, and maybe Dylan, those mornings after he stays up late working on his sculpture. The camp kids do most of their own cooking, so Ford, Caroline and I try to show up for their meals as a gesture of support. I expect to lose a good ten pounds this summer, when all is said and done.”

  She laughed with him. “I’ll have a supply of cookies on hand, to keep your strength up.”

  “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

  By six thirty, she’d explored all the cabinets and the refrigerator, started a pan of biscuits baking and arranged a place setting at the breakfast bar, where Garrett said Wyatt preferred to stand and eat. When she heard new steps coming down the hallway, she quickly poured a big cup of coffee and turned just in time to see Wyatt enter the kitchen. Wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and sweat pants, with his hair uncombed and his puffy-eyed face unshaven, he reminded her of a bear just coming out of hibernation.

  She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Good morning! Here’s your coffee. How do you like your eggs?”

  “Damnation,” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. When he opened them again, he was scowling. “I’d forgotten you were here.”

  So much for the first day of her new life!

  Chapter Two

  July

  “Will you play with me?” a little voice asked. “Please?”

  Honey, dozing on the floor beside the desk, raised her head at the intrusion. Wyatt started to glance over his shoulder, but a stab of pain in his back stopped him. With an irritated snort, he swiveled his chair away from the computer instead.

  But his bedroom seemed to be empty. “Who’s there?”

  The five-year-old peeked around the corner of his dresser. “Me.” She eyed him nervously. “Amber.”

  Not wanting her to be afraid of him, he kept his tone gentle. “Why are you hiding, Me Amber?”

  She glanced behind her. “My mommy said not to bother you,” she said at a lower volume.

  He smothered a smile. “So why did you?”

  “’Cause I want to play Candyland.” Coming out from behind the dresser, she displayed the game box she was holding. In a bright yellow T-shirt, green shorts and green sneakers, she reminded him of a cheerful dandelion. “And you can’t play by yourself.”

  Wyatt remembered playing the game with Dylan when his brother was about this age. “Did you ask your mom to play with you?”

  Her golden curls bounced as she nodded. “She has to dust the bookshelves. And wash the windows. And sweep the fireplace.”

  “That’s a lot to do.” In the short time she’d been there, Susannah Bradley had systematically overhauled the place, room by room. He scarcely saw her during the day, she stayed so busy. And the house had never been so clean, so easy to live in. The meals she prepared tempted him as food hadn’t in years. On her breakfasts alone, he’d have been well fueled for a full day’s work...if he wasn’t stuck in the house with nothing to occupy him but wrangling numbers.

  The least he could do was give her daughter a few minutes of his time. “Sure. I’ll play with you. Come on in.”

  He rolled his chair over to the bed and they set up the board on the mattress, which Susannah made up for him in the mornings while he ate breakfast—an image he tried to avoid when he went to lie down at night. The image of her graceful hands smoothing his sheets did nothing to foster a good night’s sleep.

  “Now, this is how you play,” Amber said, explaining the rules as she shuffled the cards with an endearing clumsiness. She was very serious about the process, frowning as she moved her piece from square to square, instructing him on the meaning of each card he drew. Even though he knew next to nothing about little girls, he felt he had the situation under control.

  Until she landed on a licorice square. “No!” She bounced on the bed, upsetting the playing pieces and scattering the cards. “I don’t want to lose my turn!”

  He made the mistake of arguing. “That’s the way you said the game works.”

  “But you’ll get ahead of me,” she wailed. “It’s not fair!”

  In the next moment, Susannah’s voice came down the hallway. “Amber? Amber, where are you?” Then she stood at his door. “What in the world...?”

  Getting to his feet, Wyatt cleared his throat. “We’re...uh...playing Candyland.”

  Standing by the bed, she crossed her arms and glared at her daughter. “What did I tell you?”

  Staring at her hands, Amber hunched her shoulders. “Not to bother him.” Then she looked up. “But he wanted to play. Didn’t you?” Wide blue eyes, still wet with tears, begged for his support.

  “I did.” He caught Susannah’s gaze. “It’s okay. Really. I’ve got nothing but time.”

  “You’re very generous.” Taking a deep breath, she let her arms relax. But a faint flush on her cheeks revealed that she was still upset. “You don’t have to be a babysitter. It’s not part of the arrangement.”

  “I’m not a babysitter,” he shot back. Then he softened his tone. “I’m a friend. Amber’s friend. And yours.”

  Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I know. I just...hate taking advantage. We owe you and your brothers so much already.” Even though she must have been working hard, she seemed neat and fresh, her sleeveless blue shirt and khaki shorts as crisp as when he’d first seen her early this morning.

  “You’re helping us out.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “And we’re grateful.”

  She started under his touch. Her gaze flashed to his face and then away.

  Wyatt withdrew his hand quickly, silently cursing himself. Like a mistreated horse, a woman who’d been abused would naturally be shy of men. How had he let himself forget?

  “We’re doing fine in here,” he said then, jaw tense, fingers shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “Don’t worry.”

  Stepping to the side of the bed, Susannah pointed a finger at her daughter. “No more tantrums over the game, Amber. You’re a big girl and you know you have to play by the rules. Nathan taught you. Remember?”

  “I ’member. I’ll be good.” She beamed an angelic smile. “Can we start over? I messed up the board.”

  Wyatt frowned at her. “I think I’ve been conned. But, yeah, we can start over.”

  He only wondered if he would have to do the same with her mother.

  * * *

  SUSANNAH WENT TO the kitchen and poured herself some coffee, cradling the mug with both hands to hold it steady.

  Wyatt had touched her. And she’d jumped, like a nervous teenager. How stupid could she be?

  She didn’t believe for a second that he would hurt her. That wasn’t the problem. But her own response had shocked her—an immediate urge to lean into his hand, to savor the warmth of his palm, the strength of his fingers.

  Where had that come from?

  The sound of footsteps heralded Caroline’s arrival in the kitchen. “Good afternoon! I see you have a formidable project underway in the living room.”

  “I noticed the books needed dusting.” Susannah gathered her scattered thoughts. �
��I’ll have everything restored to order by dinnertime.”

  “I’m impressed that you decided to tackle it at all. There’s no telling when—if ever—that chore was last attempted.” Dark haired and petite, wearing jeans and a green T-shirt, boots and a white hat, she epitomized the perfect cowgirl. “I left Dylan and Garrett watching the kids jog their horses around the corral. I’m dying for some coffee to keep me awake.” Pouring a cup, she sent Susannah a conspiratorial wink. “Too many late nights spent on the phone with Ford in San Francisco.”

  “When does he come back for good?” Though he’d meant to stay on the ranch for only a few weeks while Wyatt recuperated, falling in love with Caroline had inspired Ford to leave his law practice in California for his home and family in Wyoming. He’d brought with him the lovely engagement ring now resting on Caroline’s left hand.

  “At the end of the week, thank goodness. I can’t believe how much I miss him.”

  Susannah realized she hadn’t seen Travis for almost two weeks—and she hadn’t missed him at all, had actually been more contented than she’d felt in years. Shame brought heat to her face. “I’m sure you do.”

  Caroline gazed at her for a moment and then crossed the kitchen to stand nearby. “You don’t have to feel guilty,” she said quietly. “He forfeited his claim to your concern, your love, the first time he hurt you. You and your children have every right to find a place where you’re safe and cared for.”

  “I know.” Susannah swallowed hard. “It’s just...he wasn’t always like...that.”

  “But you have to cope with the present, not the past.”

  “He could change.” The possibility seared her conscience. “What if I gave up too soon?”

  Leaning one hip against the counter, the cowgirl social worker ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “Do you think he will?” After a moment, she met Susannah’s gaze. “Are you willing to risk Nate and Amber’s well-being on that possibility?”

  “No!”

  Caroline nodded, lifting her mug in a salute. “You’ve made the smart and brave choice. Just take things one step at a time for a while. Let the past recede and the future wait awhile. For now, this summer, the three of you are in a good place.”

  Picturing the big man playing Candyland with her daughter, Susannah smiled. “You’re right. We are.”

  Caroline stopped by the plate of peanut butter cookies on the kitchen table. “Mmm...these look delicious.” She chose one and finished it off. “That Nate of yours is a natural horseman, by the way. He rides as if he’s been in the saddle since he was a baby.”

  Susannah dumped the dregs of the coffee in the sink and poured out beans to start a fresh pot for Wyatt’s afternoon consumption. “He’s always loved horses. Whenever we went to the library, he found books about cowboys, ranches and riding. I’m sure he enjoys being here.”

  “I hope so. We’ll see to it that he gets as much horse exposure as possible. Meanwhile, I’m taking one more of these cookies as I go. Once Dylan, Wyatt and Garrett find them, there won’t be any left.” She grabbed another cookie on her way out.

  With the coffee made, Susannah decided she’d better check on the gamers in the room at the far end of the hall. Since Amber hadn’t wandered off seeking new entertainment, Susannah expected to find them still absorbed in the colors of Candyland.

  Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the doorway, which was ridiculous. Nothing had happened to make her nervous. She drew a deep breath and relaxed her clenched fingers. Maybe she’d indulged in too much coffee today.

  When she stepped into the room, she was surprised to find the game abandoned on the bed. Wyatt sat at his desk, with Amber on the floor beside his chair, her box of crayons and what seemed to be a ream of paper spread around her.

  Amber glanced up as Susannah stood staring. “I’m drawing, Mommy.” The page she held featured one diagonal blue line. “See?”

  “That’s...um...wonderful, honey.” As far as she could tell, all the papers showed just one or two marks, on only one side. “You’re making a lot of pictures, aren’t you?”

  Wyatt swiveled his chair around to face her. “She won two games,” he said. When Susannah frowned in doubt, he held up a hand. “Fair and square. Then she wanted to use her crayons, so I gave her some paper.” He glanced down at Amber, and his usually solemn expression softened into a smile. “She’s having a good time.”

  “So I see.” Flustered by his smile, Susannah hunkered down beside her daughter and gathered together the drawings. “You could put a picture on both sides, Amber. Can you do that?”

  “Don’t want to.” Amber pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk and brought out more sheets. “I like it this way.”

  “I don’t mind,” Wyatt said. “As long as she’s happy.”

  “She’s making a mess and wasting supplies. And trees.” Aware of how bitchy that sounded, Susannah stacked the pages and flipped them over, blank side up. “Draw on these, Amber. You don’t want to use up all of Mr. Wyatt’s paper.”

  Lower lip stuck out and eyes wide, Amber clutched the blank pages to her chest. “No.”

  Great. An argument, in front of Wyatt. Susannah kept her voice gentle. “You have plenty, sweetie. Leave the rest alone.”

  “I want more.” In a quick move, she scattered the pages she was holding, turned to the open drawer and reached inside. “More!”

  Face flaming, Susannah straightened up. “I’m sorry,” she said, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes. “You’ve been very good to play with her, but I think a break is in order.” She picked up her wailing-and-kicking daughter by the waist. “I’ll deal with this chaos in a few minutes.”

  “I can get—” he started, but stopped. “No, I can’t,” he said gruffly. “Damn this brace, anyway.”

  Having ruined a perfectly peaceful scene for her daughter and for him, Susannah took Amber to the room they shared and shut the door. A few minutes of sobs and sniffles followed, during a heart-to-heart talk about listening to Mommy, before her little girl fell asleep with the tears still drying on her face. Some days, a grown-up five-year-old still needed a nap.

  Now she had to go back and face Wyatt while she restored order to his office. He kept his life organized, she’d discovered since she’d been here. Much of her cleaning had been out of a sense of duty more than actual necessity because the house was amazingly tidy, especially considering bachelors lived there. Despite what he’d said, having the floor carpeted with childish scribblings had probably driven him crazy. Susannah knew she shouldn’t have allowed her daughter to demand so much of his time. She’d make sure she kept closer tabs on Amber in the future.

  In the next few days, that resolution proved much easier to make than to keep. Whenever Amber’s bright voice had gone quiet, Susannah would discover her playing with Wyatt. She found them in the living room one afternoon, where Wyatt sat in the rocking chair with the baby doll, wrapped in a bath towel, resting on his shoulder. Amber stood beside him, patting the baby’s shoulder as he moved back and forth.

  “What are you doing?” had become her standard question.

  “Shh!” Amber put a finger to her lips. “Baby is sick. Her daddy is rocking her to make her feel better.”

  “Ah.” She kept her voice down. “And who are you?”

  “I’m the sister. He’s my daddy, too.”

  Struck to the heart, Susannah found her gaze locked with Wyatt’s, but she couldn’t read his expression. In desperation, she put a hand on Amber’s shoulder.

  “Sweetie, maybe the baby wants a drink of water. Why don’t you go get her bottle from the bedroom?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” Susannah said as soon as Amber was gone. “I can’t imagine where she comes up with these ideas.”

  “I expect you hold her when she’s sick and that comforts her.” The do
ll still rested on his shoulder. “Good parents do those things for their kids. And you’re a very good parent.”

  “But I’m sorry you’re getting caught up in her silly games. Really, you don’t have to—”

  “Susannah.” His firm tone halted the frenzy of her speech. “You’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ twice in the last two minutes. Seems we never have a conversation lately without you saying ‘I’m sorry.’”

  She opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t an apology, so she closed it again.

  “Don’t worry so much. Not about me.” He glanced down at the doll and smiled. “I enjoy playing with Amber, seeing how a little girl’s mind works. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

  “If you’re sure...”

  “I’m sure you can stop apologizing. You and your kids are not a burden and you’re not intruding. Just make yourself at home. Settle in. Or else I’m going to get mad.” He sent her a wink. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m mad.”

  * * *

  EVEN AS THE words left his mouth, Wyatt realized his mistake.

  “I’m so sorry.” His turn to apologize. “That was a stupid thing to say. It’s a joke between my brothers and me—from an old TV show.”

  To his great surprise, she laughed. “I know. I watched The Incredible Hulk reruns when I was a kid. I loved how he grew all big and green and furious.”

  Despite her good humor, his guilt persisted. “I didn’t intend to threaten you.” He considered the phrase again. “Although that’s exactly the way it sounded.”

  “You were teasing, Wyatt. I got that.” Her smile faded. “Travis doesn’t threaten. He just...explodes.”

  “I hate reminding you of him.” And hated remembering his own dad’s hair-trigger temper.

  “It’s not as if I ever really forget.” She drew a deep breath and then made an obvious effort to improve the mood. “You seem pretty experienced at holding babies. Did you spend a lot of time taking care of your younger brothers?”

 

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