“Like what?”
“Well... I’ll have to see what’s on hand, but you can help me decide. Unless...” She looked at Gus. “I’d be in your way?”
“You kiddin’? Trust me, by now I’m more’n ready to hand over the kitchen duties to someone else.”
“Oh, Gus...” For the first time, she realized how tired he looked. That the bags under his eyes weren’t only from age, but exhaustion. She hiked the little boy higher in her arms, her eyes stinging when he laid his head on her shoulder. Falling in love is not an option, she thought, although she suspected that ship had set sail from the first moment she saw him. “Are you okay?”
The housekeeper looked insulted. “Of course I’m okay, I’m probably healthier’n you. But I’m old. Done. Especially with...” He sighed. “With taking care of people. Not you, buddy,” he said quickly, reaching over to ruffle Austin’s wavy hair. “But everybody else...” His eyes met hers again as he shrugged.
The stinging got five times worse. “I still don’t understand why Dad didn’t get full-time nursing care. He could’ve afforded it—”
“Only that would’ve meant not everyone would’ve gotten their full inheritance. I swear, that’s what he said. And anyway, it would’ve made me nuts, strangers around all the time, gettin’ in my space.” His dark eyes glittered. “Only I forgot I’m not seventy anymore...”
Then his gaze scanned the kitchen, and Deanna sucked in a little breath before setting Austin down, giving him a smile. “Why don’t you go find Smoky? I think he’s on my bed.”
“’Kay,” the little boy said, sneakers thudding down the hall. Deanna told herself she wouldn’t be around long enough for the cat to exact his revenge. Then she turned back to Gus.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said, and a sad smile pushed at the housekeeper’s wrinkles.
“My niece and her husband down in Cruces, they’ve been after me for years to come live with them. To come home. Still got a bunch of cousins down there, too, their kids, grandkids...” He scratched the back of his head, making his thick, gray hair stick out like a duck tail. “And it don’ snow there but once in a blue moon. After sixty years up here, might be a nice change. So I said I’d give it a shot, see how it goes.”
Deanna smiled, even as her eyes burned. “You’ll be missed.”
Gus shrugged. “I know the will said I could live in one of the guesthouses, but nothing’s gonna be the same, you know? Somebody else ownin’ the Vista...” He crossed his arms over his belly, his head wagging. “I figure if change is happening, I should at least have some choice in what that change is, right?”
“Absol-lutely.”
“Aw, don’ you go gettin’ like that,” he said, chuckling as he briefly pulled Deanna into his arms, the soft flannel of his shirt smelling like chili powder and Old Spice and her childhood.
Deanna pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “When?”
“Soon as I get packed,” he said as Austin stormed back into the kitchen, clearly bummed.
“Smoky got under the bed where I can’t reach him.” Chuckling, Gus bent at the waist, his hands on his knees.
“So let’s go see what we’ve got in the pantry, huh? Because this pretty lady’s right, this is perfect baking weather...”
* * *
“So Deanna’s really stuck here until after she delivers?”
Josh took his eyes off the road for a microsecond to dart a glance at his older brother Zach, who’d come along to ensure Josh’s latest rescue was going to a good home. One of the perks of having a veterinarian in the family. Of course, that also meant another brother up in his business. And they had a good twenty minutes yet before they got back to town.
“Yep,” he said, ignoring Thor’s hot panting in his ear. Dog had breath like a damn dragon.
He sensed his brother’s frown. “She good with that?”
“What do you think?” Because even Zach would probably remember Deanna’s glee when she’d been “sprung” from the confines of living in—or at least near—a town too small to even have a movie theater. “Not like she has a choice, though.”
“S’pose not.” Zach paused. “She got anything for the baby? Like a crib or bassinet or something? Clothes? A car seat?”
“And since when did you become a mother hen?”
“Since the moment I realized I was the mother hen,” Zach said quietly, and Josh flinched, since Zach’s wife had died in a car wreck when his own boys were still small. Heck, Liam had barely been a year old. Granted, his brother was recently, and blissfully, engaged. But there’d been a long time when, despite their parents’ hands-on support, Zach had also known what it was like not only to be a single parent, but the only parent. Still, Josh felt like an idiot, that the full ramifications of Deanna’s forced extended stay hadn’t dawned on him sooner. As in, babies needed stuff.
The dog slurped his tongue back into his mouth and flopped on the backseat with a huge sigh. “I’ve got Austin’s crib somewhere,” Josh said. “I suppose that’d work. Although I gave away his baby clothes—”
“She’s having a girl. Girls need pink. And...” His older brother waved his hand. “Frills.”
“I doubt the kid will care. Or Dee.” Since she’d never been a girly-girl even as a kid. Far as he could tell, that hadn’t changed. In that respect the big city hadn’t rubbed off on her. But then, what did he know? Maybe the Goth-meets-lumberjack look was all the rage in the nation’s capital these days.
“You’d be surprised,” Zach said, like he was suddenly some wise old woman, jeebus. “We can ask Val, maybe? See if she’s still got Risa’s baby clothes?”
While Josh imagined his sister-in-law would be only too happy to donate to the cause—if she still had anything to donate—suddenly that didn’t seem right. Or fair. A used crib was one thing. Nothing wrong with used clothes, either—God knew Austin had worn whatever Josh could scrounge, and both he and the kid were good with that, he thought as he pulled up to his brother’s little house in town, next door to his veterinary clinic. But somehow...
“So maybe we should give her one of those parties where people bring things for the baby.”
“A shower?” Zach said.
“Right. That. Then we could ship most of it back east when she leaves.”
Because that’s where her life had been for more than ten years, and whatever they’d meant to each other before had only been a childhood thing. Period. Whatever Josh felt for Dee now...it was empathy, most likely. Knowing what it felt like to be abandoned, to get stuck with the full responsibility for something—someone—someone else had an equal hand in creating.
Pushing open the truck’s door, Zach nodded. “That might work,” he said as his own two streaked out the front door and down the steps to rush the truck, while grinning, eleven-year-old Landon—Zach’s soon-to-be stepson—hung back on the porch with his hands plugged into his hoodie’s pouch, clearly enjoying his new role as big brother. Zach hauled his youngest boy up into his lap, ruffling Liam’s bright red curls. “You want to get Mom on it, or you want me to?”
“No, I’ll talk to her.”
A half hour later, the dog racing ahead, Josh walked through the hacienda’s front door to relieve Gus of babysitting duty, fully intending to take the boy back to the foreman’s cabin where they’d been living since his father’s retirement. Except all manner of cooking smells greeted him, tangling with the most exuberant rendition of “Deck the Halls” he’d ever heard. What he could hear, that is, over Deanna’s and Austin’s laughter.
In fact, the pair were making so much noise they never even noticed Josh leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, taking in the various pots bubbling on the stove, the loaves of fresh bread cooling on racks on the counter...the six-inch high chocolate cake on a stand beside the bread, the swirled frosting gleaming
like satin in the overhead lights.
And in the middle of the kitchen, a very pregnant woman and his little boy, belting their hearts out to the cat, who was lying in front of the woodstove with a pained expression. Never mind nothing was keeping him there other than his own stubbornness.
A million feelings knifed Josh right in the chest, half of which he couldn’t even define, the other half of which he didn’t want to. But when the music—coming from Deanna’s phone propped against the Mexican-tiled backsplash—stopped, Josh slowly applauded the pair, making Deanna clamp a hand to her chest and whirl around, as Austin beelined for him like his nephews had his brother a little bit ago.
“We made dinner!” the kid said, all bright-eyed and flushed, and some of those feelings twisted a little harder. “An’ cake! An’ I helped!”
“I can see that,” Josh said, giving his son a big, sloppy kiss—the giggles slayed him, every time—before setting him down again and meeting Deanna’s equally bright eyes, glittering underneath her crazy, spiky hair almost as much as that tiny diamond stud in her nose. “Where’s Gus?”
“I kicked him off the island.” At Josh’s puzzled expression, she laughed. “For his own good. He finally admitted how hard the last several months have been on him. So I made him go take some Gus time.”
“And he actually did?”
“But only after I convinced him I could use the practice. With a kid, I mean. Did you know about his moving back to Las Cruces?”
Josh nodded. “He told me this morning, before I left. Although I figured it was coming.”
“Because we’re selling the Vista.”
“I’m sure that played a big part in his decision.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Things are what they are, Dee. Although...” He glanced around the kitchen the designer had pronounced “retro chic.” Whatever. “It’s hard to imagine the place without Gus. Hell, it’s hard to imagine...”
“You not being here,” she said gently.
God knows he didn’t want to do a guilt trip on the woman. But he wasn’t gonna lie, either.
“I’m not sure I’m real good with change.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Dee said, nodding toward Austin, down on his knees a few feet away, vroom-vrooming a little truck. “Seems to me you adapted just fine to that little surprise.”
Maybe, maybe not, Josh thought, as, after a huge, toothy yawn and a big stretch Smoky finally decided he’d had it, swiping up against Josh’s leg before stalking out of the kitchen. Josh halfheartedly brushed fur off his jeans, then faced Dee again. “Thought you were supposed to be taking it easy. Yes, Mom called me,” he said to her frown. “Deal.”
Dee swatted in his direction, then clump-waddled back to the stove, where she started lifting lids and stirring things and generally making him crazy. In what might’ve been, under other circumstances, a very good way. The sweater underneath her flannel shirt was less baggy today, hugging her breasts and belly and reminding him how insanely sexy a pregnant woman could be. Even in hiking boots. From her phone, about a thousand people started singing “Joy to the World.”
“I think babypie finally shifted—my back’s not hurting as much. Besides, I’ve always found cooking...” She dipped a wooden spoon into the bubbling concoction, lifted it toward Josh to taste. “Very therapeutic. Helps settle my thoughts.” Josh came closer, curling his fingers around her wrist to steady the spoon before taking a taste, ignoring the not-so-slight Oh, yeah? in his groin when her pulse and his fingertips collided. However, back to the food. He had no idea what it was—although vegetables and a whole mess of spices were involved—but his taste buds were very happy campers right now. Even if other parts of him...weren’t.
“Wow. What is it?”
“Just something I whipped up from what was around. Kind of a Southwest ratatouille.”
“Rata-what?”
“Never mind.” Her brow crumpled. “And your verdict?”
He took the spoon from her to scoop up another bite, nodding and grunting out, “It’s okay,” and her smile warmed him even more than the spices. Which suddenly kicked in, setting everything on fire between his mouth and his stomach. Perfect.
Handing back the spoon, Josh yanked open the fridge for a bottle of water, gulping half of it down before twisting the cap back on and getting out, “Might be a bit too much for the kid, though.”
“There’s a milder version on the other burner. Already kid-tested and approved. Huh, sweetie?” she said when Austin sidled up to her and she tugged him close.
“It’s dee-LISH-shus!”
Josh looked at her, noticing her flushed cheeks, how her eyes were the color of root beer. So of course now he was craving root beer. “You got him to eat vegetables? What are you, a magician?”
She shrugged, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe.” Her gaze followed Austin as he ran off to play with the dog now, then swung back to Josh, a soft smile curving her lips. The music changed, to some carol he couldn’t name offhand. “I decided I could either sit and mope about how absolutely nothing is playing out the way I envisioned it, or I could cook a fabulous meal—and eat it—and hang out with the cutest four-year-old, ever...” She grinned. “And decorate the hell out of this house for Christmas.”
“Um...you do realize it’s two weeks yet until Thanksgiving?”
“Hey, once Halloween’s over, I’m good.” She reached for three bowls from the cabinet closest to the stove. “Besides, we’ll have to decorate for the party, right? Might as well get an early start. Since I’m not going to get less pregnant.”
His stomach rumbling and his brain churning, Josh silently watched her ladling her concoctions into the bowls. “You’re really okay with this, then?”
Dee shot him a funny look, then gestured for Josh to sit at the head of the big table before calling Austin to join them, pouring the kid a glass of milk.
“I’m making it okay,” she said, lowering herself into her own chair. “Especially since you’re right, the community needs this party. I know they probably think I didn’t care about them, since I haven’t been around much, but...”
She glanced down, a wave of color washing over her cheeks. “My wanting to get away was never about the people.” She twisted her fork over her bowl for a moment, then lifted her eyes to his. “Never.”
“Then...” Josh winked at a wiggling Austin, who grinned around a mouthful of food, before meeting Dee’s gaze again. “Let’s go all-out, maybe even hire a band. And, hey, fireworks. It’s the end of an era,” he said to Dee’s lifted brows as Austin yelled, “Fireworks?” between them, instantly on board with the idea. “Might as well go out with a bang, right?” He chuckled. “Literally. So whaddya say?”
“I think...” Dee smiled. “I think it sounds perfect. The perfect way to honor Dad—oh, sweetie!” she said as a tsunami of ice-cold milk washed across the table...and straight into Josh’s lap.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” Austin said, eyes huge with tears as Josh jumped to his feet and Thor dashed under the table, lapping up the puddle faster than it formed.
“It’s okay, buddy, not to worry.” Never mind that his nuts were shrinking faster than the polar ice caps. Damn, that was cold. “I used to spill my milk at least once a day when I was little.” Josh grabbed his napkin to blot at least some of the moisture, palming Austin’s shoulder with his other hand. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the blur that was Deanna, gathering towels and a sponge, then zoom-waddling back to the table, kneeing the disappointed dog out of the way to drop towels on the floor. Then, grunting, she lowered herself onto her hands and knees. Which couldn’t be good. Could it?
Wringing the sponge into a little bowl, she looked up at Josh, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You spilled a glass of milk every day?”
“I did. Until my mother wised up and fo
und one of those lidded cups with a straw...dog! No!”
Desperately trying to fend off Thor’s milky kisses, Dee toppled over onto her butt, shrieking in laughter, her howls only egging the dumb dog on and dissolving his little boy into a torrent of giggles.
“Honestly, mutt—” His own mouth twitching, Josh grabbed the dog’s collar and hauled him off his “victim,” at the same time tugging the front of his jeans to get the damp away from his junk.
With that, Dee lost it completely, now laughing so hard she was snorting. An instant later Austin threw himself in her arms...and like somebody’d flipped a switch the laughter died as suddenly as it’d started. Dee wrapped his little boy close, laying her cheek in his hair and rocking him, and Josh felt like he was being crushed from the inside.
“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “It was an accident, it’s okay.”
Except it wasn’t okay, was it? At all.
“I need to get out of these wet pants.”
A crease wedged between her brows, Dee glanced up at him, giving Austin’s noggin a quick kiss before gently pushing him off her lap.
“I’m sure,” she said, then lifted her hands so Josh could haul her to her feet, and her belly grazed his, and her crazy-sweet laughter still rang in his ears, and the image of her cradling his son was burned into his brain, and Josh thought, Hell. “So why don’t you run on back and change,” she said, as the dog checked out the floor again in case Dee’d missed a stray molecule or two. “I’ll watch the little guy—”
“Actually we should probably go.”
Not even a boisterous rendition of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” could pierce the silence now throbbing between them. Until Austin’s tiny, “Is it because I spilled my milk?” shattered that silence.
Ah, jeez...
“Not at all, guy,” Josh said, scooping the kid into his arms.
“Then how come we have to go?”
“Yeah, Daddy,” Dee said, her expression as confused as his son’s. With a generous dose of pissed tossed in for good measure. “How come?”
God knew she deserved an explanation. But how could he give her a reason for his sudden about-face with Austin right here? Especially since Austin was the reason?
The Rancher's Expectant Christmas Page 6