The Kentucky Cowboy's Baby

by Heidi Hormel

  “I bought it.”

  “I know you bought it. How did you hide it? Faye always finds my stash.”

  “Your stash?”

  “She always finds my Cadbury fruit-and-nut bars. No matter where I hide them. It’s like she’s got radar. Daddy Gene always hid Devil Dogs.”

  “I didn’t know I had to hide stuff.”

  “Share and I won’t rat you out,” she said and held out her hand.

  He offered the open box to her. “There’s a place near to home that makes better caramel corn than this but a beggar can’t be a complainer.”

  “If you say so. This is pretty darned good.” She popped a piece of caramel-covered popcorn in her mouth and chewed in obvious bliss.

  He would have laughed if that picture didn’t make him think of the brief flash of heat he’d felt when his hand had cupped her breast as he’d worked to get Oggie. He wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. He may have, possibly without conscious thought, copped a feel.

  “You can’t distract me anymore,” she said as she walked to the sink and turned on the tap. “We need to talk about—” She stopped, gazing out the window over the sink, then she turned and ran out the back door.

  What the hell? He looked out the window and saw flames. Crap. He followed her, yelling, “Pepper, don’t.”

  “My plants,” she yelled. He was nearly to her.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1, then we’ll get the hose.”

  She stopped and turned to him, her face eerily illuminated by the flames. “The plants...the greenhouse...”

  “I know. Go get the hose. I’ll call.” She started toward the greenhouse and its attached shed, but the flames were higher than the nearby barn. He grabbed her arm to stop her. She seemed to be in a trance. “You don’t want the barn to catch fire. The greenhouse is gone.”

  “Oh, my God, Faye was right. Karma doesn’t like attorneys.”

  Chapter Six

  Pepper concentrated on watching the volunteer firefighters roll up their hoses. It had taken them less than ten minutes to put out the fire. In all, the greenhouse and shed couldn’t have been burning for more than twenty minutes and it was all gone. The flames had been hot enough to twist the metal and burn up all the tubes and the electronic control system.

  “Sorry,” the fire chief said, followed by nods from the other volunteers, most of whom had been treated at the clinic.

  “Thanks for trying to save it.” She’d known from the moment she and AJ had run outside that the greenhouse was a goner. She looked around for him. He stood with a small cluster of men. She moved her gaze away from AJ, where it had been landing far too often. He’d pitched in as the firefighters had sprayed the greenhouse, then used rakes and long poles to poke at the charred remains so they were sure no spark or ember was left.

  “We’ll be out of here soon. Chief Rudy will be by tomorrow to check, but it doesn’t look like arson to me. I’d say electrical or maybe from compost. You’d be amazed how quickly that stuff can catch fire.”

  Pepper stared at the charred remains of her dreams. She sounded a lot more like Faye than herself, which gave her an idea of how crazy upset she was. She’d face it all tomorrow—including the insurance company—when she wasn’t exhausted. Then she’d come up with a way to salvage her garden and her plan for Angel Crossing and her mother.

  “At least the barn didn’t catch fire,” AJ said, his drawl thick and his words soft.

  “Yeah, at least.”

  “It was just plants and they weren’t even that big.” He stood beside her, both of them looking over the ashes, white-green in the weak light from the old dusk-to-dawn lamp crookedly attached to the barn.

  “You’d think that, you...cowboy jerk.” She wanted to punch him, too, but this wasn’t elementary school. Cowboy jerk? Really, that was the best insult she could come up with?

  “I’ll ignore that,” he said easily.

  Why was he being nice? She couldn’t keep up a good head of anger if he was nice to her. If he didn’t stop it, she’d be crying. He pulled her without warning into a one-armed hug. She stiffened. She wouldn’t be coddled or humored. She was an adult, as much a tough-as-horseshoes cowgirl as anyone else. Daddy Gene had told her she had to be the one to live in the real world, make sure the bills were paid because Faye was...Faye. Pepper had done it whenever Gene was on the road or had gone off to find work. She’d made the same promise when he knew his disease had come roaring back and he was dying.

  AJ’s words drifted over her head, making the hair move. “I can be a jerk, just ask around. But not tonight.”

  She relaxed into his embrace, feeling surrounded not only by his warmth but something more, a comfort that surprised her. She wanted to lean into him, let him take on her fear, disappointment and anger. Just for ten seconds. Yes, for ten seconds, she could be defeated and let someone else take on her responsibilities. She reached her arm around him, pressing her face into his shoulder, into the muscled solidity of him. Substantial and safe.

  She counted off the seconds in her head but somewhere around six her brain just stopped and she only felt. He held her more tightly against him. She didn’t pull away. She wanted to melt into him.

  “Pepper?”

  She glanced up at him. His gaze roamed over her face. She tipped up her chin, offering herself to him.

  No. She needed to step away. She needed to—

  His mouth came down on hers, feather-light in its touch. Testing and tasting her. She tasted back, then opened her mouth on a deep inhale of need and desire that ran through her, racing from the notch at the base of her throat south, settling hotly between her thighs. She should pull away. That would be smart. Instead, she turned into his one-armed embrace, reaching up and around his wide, solid shoulders, digging her fingers into the bunching muscles, enjoying the strength and resilience of his flesh. His arms wrapped around her. They fit just right, everything aligning as it should, as if they had been a couple for decades with every curve and hollow matched to make something that was greater than just the two of them.

  His hands moved under her ponytail to pull her mouth more firmly against his, urging her to open to him further. She did and the explosion of taste, feeling and heat went straight to her knees, which wobbled with the unexpected but not unwelcome rush of lust. Lordy be. She reveled for long moments in the heat and want of that dance of their tongues but finally made herself pull her head away. She didn’t move out of his loose embrace, though, slowing her breathing even as she enjoyed the hot scent of him. His gaze didn’t leave her face, searching but not demanding. At last, she stepped out of his arms.

  “Thanks. Good night.” She walked with purpose back into the house, where the bright lights and Faye’s questions would wipe away the kiss. Just part of the shock of the fire, she told herself in her best medical-professional voice. Nothing was going on between her and the cowboy. Nothing. He and his little girl were not her future. She would have a community garden and settle down with a man who held the same values as she did and understood how important it was to sacrifice for the community. Someone sort of like Danny Leigh. He’d given up a lot to become mayor. Yeah, that was the kind of man for her. Not AJ McCreary, a broken-down bull rider who’d sell off her ranch.

  “AJ has Aries rising, a fire sign,” Faye said to Pepper when she came into the kitchen.

  “Are you saying the fire was his fault?”

  “Of course not. He would never do anything like that. I meant that he is a good complement to your air sign. You’ll feed his fire.”

  Pepper stared at her mother. The woman must have seen the kiss. “AJ is an unemployed cowboy with a baby and an attitude, who will soon be stealing our ranch.”

  Faye reached out her hands with her palms toward Pepper, reading her aura, something her mother insisted she could do. “Don’t think too much,
sweetie. Allow your heart, not your stethoscope, to make your decision. Have a cup of the yam root tea and then go to bed. Everything will work out.” Faye drifted out of the kitchen. Pepper couldn’t go to bed yet, not with the fire department still working.

  “I would’ve told you that the idiots in Angel Crossing can take care of themselves. Your job was to settle down and give me grandbabies.” A voice drifted through her mind sounding a lot like Daddy Gene at his most exasperated. She was going to put that down to stress. Tomorrow she’d come up with a plan that would save her garden and Faye’s future. Daddy Gene had been right to expect Pepper to care for her mother. That was the way it worked between the two of them, which meant she had to get rid of the cowboy and his claim.

  * * *

  AJ USED BABY GIRL as a shield when he walked into the kitchen the morning after the fire. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from Pepper. He certainly didn’t believe she’d want a repeat of the kiss. He had enough experience with women to know that. He also thought he might need to apologize, which he would do if he had to—even though he hadn’t done anything she hadn’t wanted to.

  No one was in the kitchen, despite EllaJayne allowing him to sleep in until a time when other humans usually got up. Everything was neat and clean, not one coffee-mug ring. His daughter wriggled in his arms, letting him know that her patience had worn thin. She was hungry and he’d better insert food quickly. He went through the morning routine and still not one of the Bourne women appeared. Finally, both he and EllaJayne had eaten, and he’d drank two cups of strong coffee.

  He walked outside with Baby Girl on his hip. Pepper stood by the heap of ashes that had been the greenhouse. His daughter flapped her arms, holding out Oggie, babbling and pointing at Pepper. She seemed to be more enthused seeing the stranger than she was to see him. That could be because he washed her face, and made her do things like eat eggs and sit in her high chair.

  He heard the bark just before he felt the solid weight of Butch landing against his legs. At least one living being on this ranch appreciated him. The dog danced around his feet as AJ moved toward Pepper. The woman looked determined—no sign of the vulnerable person she’d been last night. Phone to her ear, she paced through the ashes. Butch brought AJ a rock to throw. AJ sent it sailing and the dog raced after it. EllaJayne jabbered loudly in his ear as she pointed at Pepper, who continued to pace. He understood about every tenth word his daughter said, so he knew enough to take her to Pepper. He set EllaJayne on the ground, putting out his hand so she could totter around while continuing to wave Oggie to Pepper, who gave them a quick nod. Butch came back with a new rock. He waited, sitting on his haunches until he caught sight of the moving stuffed animal. AJ saw the direction of his gaze and moved to grab it before the dog lunged. Too late. Butch nabbed Oggie and raced away. EllaJayne screamed. AJ closed his eyes as a sharp pain radiated from his back to his brain. The stupid reach for the toy had tweaked his back. He hadn’t been doing his physical therapy exercises, the ones meant to loosen his muscles and keep them from knotting up. When his back acted up, his hip would start throbbing and soon his shoulder would join in. Darn it. He finally opened his eyes as the sharp pain dialed back.

  Now the pain moved to his heart as he saw the shiny tracks on EllaJayne’s face, her eyes swimming with tears and her brow scrunched in hurt. He whistled sharply for the dog who came trotting back to Pepper instead of him. She stuck the phone in her pocket and then pointed to the ground. Butch dropped Oggie a good twenty feet from AJ.

  “Look, baby,” he said to his daughter. “Butch brought back Oggie. He’s fine. Let’s go get him.” He didn’t know if he could pick her up right now. She wasn’t heavy, but pain shot from his back and down his leg. His daughter toddled, then collapsed, pulling on AJ’s arm, and his back chose that moment to freeze into a sheet of pain that sent him to his knees beside EllaJayne.

  “Oggie,” his daughter screamed, her little arm shooting out toward Pepper and the stuffed animal. AJ worked to get his breath and stand up. If he was lucky, the muscles would unclench without him having to lie flat out on his back on the ground.

  “He’s fine, EllaJayne. Butch didn’t hurt him,” Pepper said in soothing tones as she approached the two of them. AJ’s back muscles clamped down again, his breath stopping for a second. When the spasm loosened, he made himself look at her and even smiled.

  “Thanks.” Another thirty seconds and he’d move, he assured himself.

  Pepper looked at him intently, her eyes scanning up and down his body, before turning to EllaJayne. She handed over the stuffed animal. “See. He’s fine.” The little girl clasped the pile of balding fur to her chest, then gave a dark-eyed glare at Butch. If AJ had had the breath, he would have laughed because that glare was pure Nanny McCreary, his great-grandmother, who’d been the terror of the clan. No one crossed that woman. She’d kept the family fed and on its land through the Great Depression with willpower and a shotgun.

  “Oggie,” EllaJayne finally said, still hugging her toy. “Bad Butch.” At least that was what AJ thought she said. With the throbbing pain now settling into his back, it was tough to think about much more than getting to the house and finding a flat surface to stretch out on and a bottle of pills to take. Only he couldn’t knock himself out because he had EllaJayne and calls to make. He took a deep breath and levered himself slowly and painfully to his feet, keeping his gaze on the ground. He didn’t want to see anything like pity in Pepper’s eyes. “I’ll need the names of the sitters and directions,” he said, to give himself something else to focus on.

  “I’ve got the insurance to deal with today but come with me into the clinic and let me check you out. It’s obvious you’re in pain.”

  “Just an old injury. It’s nothing. It’ll only take you a minute to get me the names,” he said tightly, feeling the hot wave of clenching pain starting again at his hips. He needed to relax or it would never unknot. He needed to get horizontal, too. Crap. That one small thought had him remembering their kiss and the promise of the heat they would have generated if they’d gotten horizontal together. At least imagining that made him forget about his back for a moment or two. He straightened a fraction of an inch and the stiffness eased. “I plan to go out on interviews tomorrow. I need the sitter hired today.” He looked at his daughter happily sitting on her once-clean bottom in the dusty yard, sifting gravel and dirt over her legs. Leaning over the tub to wash her again wasn’t going to happen. He’d figure something out because he and EllaJayne needed to make a good impression on the sitter. “Come on, Baby Girl,” he said to her. His daughter looked up, her face marred by the now dirty streaks of her earlier tears.

  “Up,” she said, lifting her arms. “Want up.”

  No way could he do that. “Not now. You walk. Get Oggie and come.” He saw her lip start to stick out, ready for a long pout. “You can play horsey,” he promised. His daughter loved sitting on his saddle that had a place in the corner of the room until AJ could clean out the barn enough for his equipment. Finally, EllaJayne pushed herself to her feet and started to walk like a drunken sailor toward the house. “I want to leave for town as soon as I have the names,” he said to Pepper before walking away.

  Twenty-five minutes later, EllaJayne was as clean as a wet washcloth could make her. His back had settled into a dull throb that he might keep under control with double doses of aspirin and stretches. He’d ridden with worse.

  “Pepper,” he called, Ella Jayne toddling beside him into the kitchen. She was there, the morning sun highlighting the golden red in her hair and making her eyes glow. Dear Lord, her earthy beauty knocked the breath out of him, but in the good way, like a beautiful sunset or a first kiss. “Baby Girl is cleaned up, aren’t you?” he asked his daughter so he had to turn from Pepper. He needed to get some distance. “We’re ready to go find a sitter.”

  “I didn’t have much time...”

  Her voice d
rifted off but he resisted checking out what had shut her up. He stared at the top of his daughter’s dark head. “As soon as you get me the names, we’ll be out of your hair.”

  * * *

  AJ HAD THE two measly names she’d finally given him and his daughter strapped in her seat when a semi pulled up with pallets of plants on its trailer. What the heck? This must be for her garden, but what had she been thinking? She’d ordered enough plants to feed the entire state. Not his business, he reminded himself. He walked over to talk with the driver who jumped out of the cab.

  “You order a thousand King Kale plants?”

  “That wouldn’t be me. Could it be Pepper Bourne?”

  The guy looked at the paperwork. “Angel Crossing Community Garden.”

  Butch raced over barking, and AJ heard the llamas and alpacas calling out. He couldn’t bend to catch the dog’s collar, so he clicked his fingers and pointed to his side. Butch circled him once, then plopped his hairy butt in the dirt.

  “What’s going on... My plants?” Pepper was ten feet away. He saw her eyes go wide. “I didn’t order—”

  “You Angel Crossing Community Garden?” the driver asked, approaching her with the clipboard as Butch continued to race around again, barking like a maniac.

  “Butch, hush,” Pepper said ineffectually, and then to the man with the clipboard, “I ordered kale but—”

  “One thousand King Kale, five hundred Queen Mustard and another thousand Marquis Artichokes.”

  “I only ordered a dozen of each plant.”

  “Nope. See here?” He tried to show her the clipboard.

  AJ joined them. “Is there a problem with the order?”

  Pepper said tightly. “I never ordered that amount. That would be enough to feed the city of Phoenix.”

  “I have the invoice,” the man said just as Butch’s barking went from loud to shrill. The sound of hooves pounded nearby. They all turned to see the herd of alpacas and llamas stampeding to the low trailer of plants. The animals nearly trampled each other getting to the greenery.