A Cold Creek Baby

by RaeAnne Thayne

  With a fierce pang, she missed the days when he used to tease her and laugh with her. Of all the boys, Cisco had been the most fun, always ready with a story or a joke or some funny observation that would crack them all up.

  She hurried into the nursery and found Isabella sitting up, rubbing her eyes that swam with tears.

  “Hey, there, sweet girl,” she murmured to the baby.

  Belle’s dark curls were flattened on one side and her nose had dripped along with her tears, but she was still a beautiful child. When she saw Easton, the baby gave that wide, wholehearted grin of hers and Easton felt another fissure crack through the hard shell she thought she had formed around her heart.

  Another one threatened to break apart when Belle held her chubby little arms out eagerly for Easton to pick her up.

  She obediently lifted her from the crib and pressed her cheek to Belle’s silky-soft curls. Was there anything in the world more sweetly adorable than a warm, cuddly baby just waking up from a nap?

  Too warm, she realized with sudden chagrin.

  “Oh, dear,” she said after she had checked out the situation. “You’re soaked through, pumpkin. Let’s get you out of those wet things.”

  Belle giggled and reached for Easton’s tiny silver hoop earring in response.

  Easton laid her on the changing table and preemptively handed her a squeaky toy mouse so she wouldn’t squirm too much.

  When she saw the somewhat lopsided diaper, something soft and tender fluttered in her heart. Cisco wasn’t the world’s best diaperer, but it touched her to see his inexpert attempts, especially when she considered that he had to deal with his own injuries.

  She pulled the diaper up and fastened the sides and then changed her into a darling little pair of jeans and a red polka dot long-sleeved shirt she pulled from the open suitcase by the changing table.

  She tousled the curls out a little with her fingers. “There. Now you’re not lopsided,” she said and Belle giggled again.

  She had to admit, she probably wasn’t much better than Cisco at the whole diapering thing. Oh, she had no problem dealing with orphaned calves, but her practical experience with human babies was limited to the precious few opportunities she had enjoyed with her honorary niece and nephew.

  Since she wasn’t in a rush to relinquish Belle to Cisco’s care—or to face him again just yet—she spread one of the baby blankets on the floor and scattered a few toys for the baby, then set her down in the middle of them.

  Belle immediately went for her favorite stuffed dog and shoved a floppy ear into her mouth.

  “You love that thing, don’t you?” Easton smiled and was rewarded with that adorable wide grin. “I should take you out to see the real thing. My doggy Suzy has five chubby little puppies. I think you’d love them.”

  Belle slithered commando-style toward her and presented the drooly dog to her, much like one of the barn cats offering her the prized gift of a dead mouse.

  “You keep it,” Easton said, though she felt another barrier crumble.

  Belle rolled to her back and played for another moment or two, but then she was back, her arms out for Easton to pick her up. Had she always been this cuddly or was it a reaction to her confusion over losing her mother?

  Whatever the reason, something warm and sweet trickled through Easton’s heart as she complied. “You are a darling, aren’t you?” she said with a smile. “I hope your aunt loves you as much as I—”

  She jerked her mind away from that dangerous thought. She couldn’t let herself love Belle. Oh, she could care about the little girl. A person would have to be a hard-hearted monster not to think Belle was sweet and adorable.

  But she was leaving soon.

  Just like everyone always left.

  Easton pushed away the self-pity. Jo would have chided her for focusing on the negative instead of simply enjoying the small, peaceful moments while she could.

  She rested her cheek against Belle’s soft curls and closed her eyes, determined to do just that, to concentrate on the not inconsiderable delight of a small, warm weight on her lap and the intoxicating scent of powder and baby shampoo.

  She sensed Cisco’s presence before she actually heard any sign of him. When she opened her eyes, she found him standing in the doorway watching her and Belle, a strange, intense light in his eyes that disappeared as soon as their gazes met.

  He was the first to speak. “Everything okay? I was wondering what was taking you two so long.”

  “Sorry. She was wet clear through, so I had to change her clothes and then we decided to play for a moment.”

  “I guess you figured out I’m not the greatest at changing diapers.”

  She smiled a little, grateful they could communicate on fairly neutral grounds about this at least. “I was just thinking what a good job you have been doing taking care of her,” she answered.

  “For a bumbling idiot, anyway.”

  “I’m completely out of my comfort zone with her, too, Cisco.”

  “You’re wonderful with her,” he protested. “Much more comfortable than I am.”

  “Listen to us, talking about who is more inept with babies.”

  He laughed, a low, husky sound, and she instantly wished for a return to the tense awkwardness between them. She almost thought she would prefer that to this subtle, soft warmth seeping through her.

  “You really are wonderful with her,” he answered. “I think you need one of your own. So why haven’t you already married somebody like Bowman and filled the house with little rug rats?”

  Careful what you wish for, she thought as his words sliced through her and all the tension rushed back.

  You need one of your own.

  Her arms tightened around Belle while she caught her breath. She couldn’t look at him, not at all sure how to answer. She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth.

  “I guess it just hasn’t happened for me yet. But then, running Winder Ranch doesn’t leave me much time to socialize.”

  “Well, someday you’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

  She somehow managed to summon a smile and had to hope he couldn’t read the pain she was quite sure she couldn’t completely hide.

  “I was just telling Belle about Suzy’s puppies. Why don’t you rest for a while? Belle and I can give you a break while we go out to see the pups.”

  “Yeah, I’m not a real big fan of naps.”

  “But you’re not usually recovering from an infected stab wound, right?”

  “Depends on the time of year.”

  Her mouth tightened. She was almost positive he meant the words as a joke, but she couldn’t find any humor in his casual acceptance of his hazardous life and his unwillingness to change it.

  “It’s a lovely afternoon out there. Maybe I’ll just come out to see the puppies with you,” Cisco said. “Do you think Suzy will mind?”

  “I’m sure you’ll charm her, just like you do with every other female.”

  “You being the exception to the rule,” he murmured.

  Ha. She all but defined the rule. From the time she was nine years old, she had been helpless to resist him and she was fairly certain he knew it.

  Maybe you should use his time here to throw your cards out onto the table. Tell him how you feel. See if he might feel the same. Maybe that’s what’s always been keeping you from getting over him and moving on somewhere else, because some part of you is still hanging on to some kind of hope for the two of you.

  Trace’s words echoed in her mind. This afternoon might be the perfect time to talk to him, if she could only gather her nerve.

  An hour later, Easton watched Cisco on the straw-strewn concrete floor of the barn, Belle in his lap and puppies crawling over both of them.

  For the first time in years, he seemed to have dropped that cynical mask. He seemed younger, somehow, easier.

  Every moment with him like this, soft and relaxed and smiling, gouged at her heart with sharp, wicked talons.

  He was
making her fall in love with him all over again. How ridiculous of her to suppose she had any chance of opening her life and her heart to someone else when she was still so tangled up with him and was so afraid she always would be.

  The future without him stretched ahead, bleak and depressing. She was angry, suddenly, at herself and at him.

  “Having puppies crawling all over you can’t be very hygienic when you’re trying to recover from an infected stab wound, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “How am I supposed to trust the judgment of someone who gets into bar fights in the first place?”

  To her mixed relief and disappointment, the shutters clanged shut over his expression again. “Don’t fuss, East. I’m fine.”

  “Forgive me if I have doubts. Thirty-six hours ago you were so delirious you didn’t know where you were.”

  “And now I do,” he retorted.

  She opened her mouth to press on, then closed it again. What was she doing here? Picking a fight, to what end?

  If all she had with him were these rare, priceless moments, how foolish to waste them with silly bickering. Whatever happened with Isabella, he would be leaving soon.

  That was exactly why she was fighting with him. She couldn’t bear to think about him leaving again—but that didn’t mean she had to be bitchy and small, to raise her hackles like one of the barn cats every time she felt threatened or afraid.

  She scratched Suzy’s ears and resolved to try harder to savor the moment instead of worry about the future. “Do you remember when Uncle Guff’s old dog Gert had puppies? Her first litter?”

  When he laughed like that, he lost all the hard, cynical edges. “Guff planned to breed her with some champion border collie from Wyoming, didn’t he?”

  “Right.” She smiled at the memory. “Instead, she somehow hooked up with my mother’s rascal of a chow, Dudley.”

  “Whenever I hear somebody say all puppies are adorable, I only have to remember the result of that particular genetic soup. I’ve got to say, that was the butt-ugliest litter of puppies that ever existed.”

  “In a completely darling way,” she protested.

  “If you say so.” He smiled and shook his head as he reached to stop Belle from yanking one of the puppies’ tails.

  “She’s a little handful, isn’t she?”

  “Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Her dad never met a good time he didn’t like.”

  He hadn’t referred much to Belle’s father before, only her mother, Easton realized. “Were you close friends with them?”

  His expression turned guarded again. “You could say that. Friends and…business associates.”

  “What sort of business?”

  She knew he wouldn’t offer a straight answer even before she asked the question. He never did.

  This time he studied her for a long moment and she thought he would tell her. He finally glanced away, but not before she thought she saw a bleak shadow in his eyes. “Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that.”

  His familiar and completely expected evasiveness threatened to break her new resolve not to fight with him.

  “Sure.” Some of her bitterness trickled out. “What’s a few stab wounds between friends?”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “East—”

  “Never mind.” She forced a smile. “I don’t want to fight with you today. Here, let me take her for a minute.”

  She lifted the baby from him and pulled one of the puppies with them. For a few moments, she enjoyed the sweetness of a giggling child and a wriggling puppy.

  She thought Cisco was done with the subject of Belle’s father and their so-called business dealings, but after a few moments, he spoke in a low voice.

  “If circumstances were different, I would come back, East. Believe me, I would. But I can’t. I have…obligations down there.”

  She cuddled Belle closer. Obligations. Had a nice sinister ring to it, as if he was indebted to some organized crime boss or drug cartel.

  Or as if he had a wife and a passel of kids tucked away somewhere.

  “You don’t owe me explanations, Cisco. It’s your life, as Jo so often reminded me.”

  He almost told her everything, right there in the Winder Ranch hay barn, amid the smell of hay and manure and puppies, with dust motes floating like shimmery gold flakes in the slanting afternoon sun.

  He was so damn tired of the lies and the subterfuge. The urge to pull her close, to rest his chin on her head and confess all his sins and mistakes was overwhelming.

  He curled his fingers into a fist. He couldn’t. The idea of dragging her into the harsh ugliness of his world was as repugnant as chewing on one of those old worn leather bridles hanging on the wall.

  He was lousy at protecting the women in his life, but he could at least keep Easton from knowing the gritty details.

  Belle gave a sudden loud sneeze, probably from puppy dander or all the dust and hay. Whatever the cause, the sound startled her enough that she let out a squawking cry.

  “Hush, sweetheart. You’re okay.” Easton tried to soothe her, but Belle had apparently decided she’d had enough of barns and puppies.

  “Do you want to take her and I’ll put the puppies back in the stall?”

  “I’ve got them,” he said.

  By the time he had lifted four wriggly puppies and set them back inside their warm bed with Suzy, his stomach muscles ached and his head started to throb.

  When he closed the stall door and returned, he found Belle tugging Easton’s braid. She tried to put it in her mouth, but Easton grabbed it away before she could.

  “Looks like somebody’s getting hungry for dinner, aren’t you, little bug?”

  Belle beamed at him and Easton smiled at her. The sight of the two of them there in the middle of a sunbeam in the old barn curled into his chest. His throat felt thick, suddenly, with emotions he didn’t want to face.

  He would treasure the images of this afternoon and would take them with him when he returned, to join the other memories of Easton that sustained him when he was wading knee-deep in the muck and misery of his life.

  Although he had tried his best to hide the ache of his injury, Easton must have sensed he still wasn’t a hundred percent. She insisted on carrying Belle to the house and setting her into the high chair in the kitchen.

  She even washed the little girl’s hands and face with a soapy cloth, wary of dog germs, he imagined.

  “I’d better take care of chores,” Easton announced after she finished cleaning up and had sprinkled toasted oats cereal on the high chair tray for Belle to nibble. “Can you handle things in here for a while?”

  “Why don’t I do that for you?” he offered. “I think I can still remember which end of a horse to feed.”

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow and he wondered just how well she could read the signs that he still wasn’t feeling his best.

  “Thanks for the offer, but Burt and I have a system in the evenings. It would take longer for me to explain what to do than it would for me to just do it myself.”

  She sat on the bench by the back door while she switched to her muck boots and he wondered how many times she sat there by herself in this big, empty house.

  “I should be back in an hour or so. Call my cell if you have any problems.”

  He nodded and he and the baby both watched her leave. Belle made a little sound of distress after the outside door closed behind her.

  “Yeah, sweetheart,” he muttered. “I know just what you mean.”

  This was getting to be a rotten habit.

  Easton woke just before midnight, her attention instantly focused on the intercom. Had that been Belle she heard? She tried to blink away the wispy tendrils of sleep, the half-forgotten dreams.

  Her room was dark, illuminated only by the face of her alarm clock and a pale shaft of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

  She didn’t hear anything further and wondered if she had imagined thing
s. On the other hand, maybe the intercom was somehow broken. After a moment of listening, Easton slipped from her bed. She hated the idea of Belle fretting alone in a strange bed. Checking wouldn’t hurt a thing and would put her mind at rest so she could sleep again.

  She pulled on her robe and found her slippers, then headed out into the darkened hallway.

  In Belle’s room, she found the baby sleeping soundly, no sign that she had even stirred in the last hour.

  Easton shook her head at her own foolishness. She used to hear a baby cry often in her nightmares, seeking a mother who never came.

  Belle’s mother would never come again when she cried, but Easton had to pray her aunt would embrace the darling little girl and welcome her into her family.

  A few more hours. She tried not to think about what would be coming in the morning. Better to focus on the lovely afternoon and evening she had spent with the baby and, yes, with Cisco.

  After she had finished with chores, she had returned to the house to find Cisco had thrown together dinner for them, a delicious chicken pasta with ingredients he dug out of her neglected pantry.

  Even though the air had remained charged between them, humming and popping with that subtle tension, she had opted to ignore it to focus instead on what she was certain were her last hours with them. They had ended up sitting out on Jo’s porch swing to enjoy the sweetly scented May evening, the baby laughing between them with each movement.

  Belle had been close to falling asleep from the steady rhythm—and Easton too, if she were honest, more relaxed than she’d been since Cisco showed up at the ranch.

  He had been the one to announce he’d better give Belle a bath or they would all fall asleep on the swing and end up spending the night out there in the cold. Easton had insisted on giving Belle her bath, as much to protect Cisco from having to lean over the bathtub with his injuries as from her own desire to prolong her time with the little girl.

  After Belle was bathed and changed, sleepy and warm in her arms, Easton had held her close for a long time on the rocking chair, until she feel asleep.

  When she returned downstairs, she found Cisco still sitting on the porch swing, gazing out at the ranch in the pale, dusky light of sunset.