“A nurse will be right with you.”
He set Maggie down on a chair wedged into the corner of the room. Just a mouth swab, he reminded himself. That was all. Both he and the baby would need to have it done. Shouldn’t take more than a minute or two.
“Okay, what have we here?” said a young female nurse wearing a smock with Looney Tunes characters all over it.
“DNA test,” Wes said, even though the woman had a piece of paper in her hand that no doubt told her what he needed done.
“Okay,” she said with a professional smile that didn’t reach the brown eyes that matched her hair. “Let me get set up.”
He didn’t know why his mouth suddenly went dry. Maybe it had something to do with the cotton swab about to be inserted between his lips. A big cotton swab. It was currently ensconced in a plastic tube with a label on the side. They would put that in little Maggie’s mouth, too?
“Okay,” said the woman after she snapped on gloves. “Here we go.” She had short-cropped hair and a mole on her cheek that Wes found himself focusing on when she said, “Open wide. I’m going to swab the inside of your cheek. Just relax.”
Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one about to be jabbed with a big-ass Q-tip. He glanced at Maggie sitting in her portable car seat so peacefully.
Sorry, kiddo. Your turn next.
It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable. “Okay. Done.” Yet another fake smile. “Baby next.”
His stomach dropped. He might not know a whole bunch about babies, but he doubted Maggie would like the stick any more than he did.
“Do you need me to take her out of her seat?”
“Nope. She’s fine.” The nurse slipped his sample in the plastic tube, snapped a lid on it, and then wrote something on the side. She turned toward Maggie when she was done. “Open wide,” she told the baby.
“I really don’t mind holding her.”
“Nope.” She didn’t even glance up at him as she squatted down. “This is fine.”
She had the tone of “just leave me alone and let me do my job,” and Wes’s hackles rose. This was his daughter...maybe, he had a right to be concerned.
“She might feel better—”
The nurse stuck her finger in Maggie’s mouth, and if he hadn’t been so concerned, he would have laughed at the way the baby’s eyes bulged just before her face scrunched up in a way that clearly conveyed her distaste for having a rubber-tasting finger stuffed inside. Two seconds later she let out a huge cry. The baby tried to move her head, but the nurse deftly followed. The cry turned into a wail and the wail into the most heart-wrenching sound of distress Wes had ever heard. He lunged for her at the same time the nurse removed the swab.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, brushing past the woman quickly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
He didn’t know how he unclicked the harness so fast, but he did, pulling Maggie up next to him before he could think twice. “Easy now. I’ve got you.”
Maggie was furious. And outraged. And clearly felt betrayed. He could see all those emotions and more as he pulled her into the crook of his arm. “Shh, shh, shh.”
“You should have results no later than next week.” The nurse barely smiled as she placed their tubes in a plastic bag. “Call if you have any questions.”
That was that. Over. Done. Not for Maggie, though. He ended up putting her over his shoulder, bouncing her and patting her, just as he’d watched his mother do.
He wanted to kill the nurse.
The emotion took him by surprise. He didn’t even know if Maggie was his, but it didn’t matter, he realized. She was his responsibility, and the nurse’s callous disregard infuriated him beyond disbelief.
She’s just doing her job.
He knew that, too, but it didn’t make him feel any better. From the moment Maggie had entered his life he’d promised to keep her safe. And now he’d let some stranger jab at her mouth.
“It’s okay. She’s gone.” Maggie’s cries started to wane. “I promise. All done.”
When he shifted the little girl back to the crook of his arm, his heart did something weird. The sight of her red-rimmed eyes, of the tears on her cheeks, of her flushed cheeks...it aroused something within him, something primal and powerful.
“You okay?” he murmured, stroking her cheek.
She blinked up at him, all soft eyes and sweet cheeks, and he knew that even if she turned out to be somebody else’s, he would still want to keep tabs on her. The little girl had quickly stolen his heart. “We’ve got it all worked out, don’t we?” he cooed to the little girl, deciding to change her diaper. With one hand, he moved the car seat off the chair, grabbed the paisley-printed blanket he’d tucked against her and set it on the chair then he gently laid her down. “You’re not so scary.”
He fished in his bag for a diaper before removing the old one. The strip of tape went right above Elmo’s head on the diaper, the other one above Ernie. It’d taken him three days to figure that out. Three days of destroying one diaper after another because he’d taped it too loose or too tight or crooked.
“And there we go.” He tickled her belly, smiling and bending his head down as if he might give her a raspberry.
She smiled back. He froze. The smile faded.
He had to be imagining things.
He tickled her belly again, this time actually blowing a raspberry, and when he straightened, there it was again. Unmistakable.
His heart melted.
How could she do it? How could Maxine leave her behind?
Out partying it up, no doubt.
Whatever.
He couldn’t leave the lab quickly enough. Maggie settled into his truck quietly. He had a feeling her crying jag had tired her out because by the time he pulled into his mother’s driveway, he was pretty sure Maggie was out. That worked out perfectly because he had chores to do.
“How was it?” his mom asked when he walked into her house with Maggie in tow.
“Horrible. But it’s done.”
His mom smiled at him in sympathy. “Just keep her in her seat. She’ll be fine like that.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Jillian will be down later. She knows which horses I want looked at.”
Jillian.
True to her word, his mother had hired her as a consultant. She’d been invaluable, too. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone on the ground, helping him, giving him suggestions. She was a hell of a horse trainer with a genuine gift for spotting problems, he thought as he walked down to the stables. When he’d had trouble with Dudley’s left lead, she’d told him it was because he was sore in the back. She’d recommended some ice and magnetic therapy, and presto, Dudley had gotten better. He’d been so grateful, had enjoyed her company so much, he’d had to fight the urge to kiss her again at least a half a dozen times. One thing stopped him. He was in no position to embark upon a romantic entanglement. Single dad. New baby. No future. Well, that wasn’t true. As his mom had said, he’d always have a job. It just wouldn’t be the future he wanted.
“You look deep in thought.”
He glanced over at Jillian, brush in hand. He’d just finished riding and was giving Dudley a good grooming. Cowboy, who sat in the barn aisle, had apparently heard her approach. He took off with his back end wagging, his canine grin hard to miss.
“I was just thinking about my mom and what a big help she’s been.”
She had come in from the side of the barn opposite the sun. Light bathed her body, the golden glow catching her eyes and turning them the color of rain forest moss. She wore an emerald-green shirt that hung past her hips, one with a scooped neckline and long sleeves. With no bling or designs on the front the top wasn’t fancy, but on her nothing would ever be plain. With her high cheekbones set to advantage by her sharp black haircut, and her small chin, she couldn’t have looked more gorgeous.
“Your mom is great,” she said, reaching down for Cowboy and giving the dog a scratch. “She made Mariah’s
day when she agreed to help with our CEASE fund-raiser. It’s been a goal of Mariah’s for years to do something like this, and now here we are, but if you’d told me a year ago we’d gain the cooperation of an evil racehorse owner, I’d have never believed it.”
“We’re not all bad.”
Her eyes swept over his face. “No, you’re not.”
Why did it feel as if she’d meant him? He turned back to his horse. He’d just finished his ride, and Dudley was tied in the middle of the barn aisle. He hadn’t even heard her drive up. Not surprising given the size of the stable where he worked. He’d seen plenty of racing stables in his lifetime, and Landon Farms was pretty spectacular. The left side held a double row of twelve stalls, each made of dark oak, and each with black vertical bars across the top. The other two-thirds of the stable held an arena. His dad had renovated the place years ago and so everything was state-of-the-art, right down to the rubberized footing in the arena and the sliding stall doors where they housed their younger stock and mares due to foal.
He tipped his cowboy hat back so he could see her better. “How does he look?”
“Good.” She smiled. “I’m sorry I missed your ride.”
“No worries. It was just a bunch of the same stuff.”
Funny how they’d never met until the gelding sale and yet they traveled the same circles. He was glad his mom had volunteered to help. She had a soft spot for horses and the money to help them.
“At least I got to cuddle your adorable Maggie.” Her smile slipped a little. “Your mom said the DNA test was horrible for her.”
His. Yes, it had started to feel that way. Despite his absolute terror in the beginning, his tiny little girl had wedged herself under his skin. Maybe that was Maxine’s plan.
“It was, but she got over it quickly.”
As if reading his mind, she asked, “Any word from Mad Max?”
He nodded. “We’re supposed to meet next Wednesday because she misses her baby girl. Forgive me for being skeptical, but I suspect she’s suddenly claiming to miss Maggie because I haven’t called begging her to help me take care of her.”
Jillian nodded. “She wanted to put you over a barrel.”
“Think so. I also think she thought my mom was a socialite or something—someone who wouldn’t help me with Maggie’s care, which just goes to show you how little she knows about me.”
“Yeah. Your mom was great with her today. Maggie is lucky to have you both.”
And there it was. The same look he’d seen on her face the day they’d kissed. The glimmer of admiration mixed with approval. She needed to stop staring up at him like that. It made him want to kiss her all over again.
“Anyway,” he said, beginning to brush his horse once more, “I guess when we meet, I’ll know more.”
She came up and placed a hand on Dudley’s neck, ran it beneath his mane and down toward his shoulder. She pressed as she went along, looking for sore spots, her hands gliding up, along the ridge of his shoulder and down his back.
“He feels great.” She smiled. “And he looks great, if you don’t mind my saying. I know you’ve only had him for a short while, but I swear he’s already picked up weight and filled out a little.”
Funny how her nod of approval could make his spirits lift. “I thought so, too, but I told myself I imagined things.”
“No. I think you’re right.”
They both stood back and admired the gelding secured in place by two red leads, one attached to the left side of the barn aisle and the other attached to the right. Dudley pricked his ears forward as if knowing they studied him and wanting to look his best. Silly horse.
“When’s your first competition?”
His stomach lurched in excitement. “At the end of this month.”
It was February, the cutting horse competitions a bit sparse this time of year. Heck, compared to recent years, there weren’t nearly as many competitions. Nor was there the money. Big purses were hard to come by, so he’d picked something small. Not a lot of big-name trainers. Just something to get his feet wet.
“Can I come watch?”
He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Of course.”
He turned back to the groom box hanging from the wall. Their colors were yellow and black, something his dad had come up with: sting like a bee. The color scheme dominated their blankets, halters and saddle pads. The mailboxlike storage container he reached into was no different. The initials L.F. were painted on the front in black. He reached for a currycomb, then went to work on Dudley’s coat. Quiet settled around them. It was like that with her. No need to fill the silence with chatter. He’d never felt more comfortable with someone in his life.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“A little.”
“Honestly, Wes, you’re going to do great. He’s a winner.”
“I think he might be, too.” He patted Dudley’s neck. “I traced his pedigree last night while I was waiting for Maggie to go to sleep. Everyone knows his sire’s bloodlines, but his dam’s pretty remarkable, too. Here, I’ll show you.” He unclipped Dudley and put him back in his stall. “It’s up at the house. I went back ten generations. He’s got a lot of foundation blood mixed in with Dual Rey.”
She followed him from the barn. His mom’s house was on the right, wooden corrals directly across the road from them. In the middle of the turnaround driveway a patch of grass sprouted, spring bulbs already making an appearance.
“It’s so beautiful here.”
“I know.” He glanced down at his dog, who paced alongside of them. “Come on, Cowboy, let’s give the lady a ride.”
He drove a golf cart to and from his house. Made things easier. Jillian climbed in next to him. His ranch house was less than a half mile from the barn. His mom had planted bulbs along the road, too. In the springtime there would be orange poppies and daffodils dotting the roadside.
“I can see why you’d do anything to keep it.”
He could tell she genuinely understood his love for the land. The smile she gave him was once again soft and full of approval. He didn’t know why, but he very much appreciated her approval.
Careful.
There he went wading into the deep end again. Didn’t matter how many times he told himself he couldn’t think of her that way—every time Jillian stood near he wondered what it’d be like to get to know her better, intimately better. Not even her weird psychic stuff bothered him anymore. Not much, anyway.
There were bulbs sprouting by the house, too, along the front of the narrow porch that ran the length of his house. Well, not his house, not really, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, he called to Cowboy as they left the golf cart and then climbed the three steps to his porch.
He headed to the kitchen and the piece of paper that he’d left on the counter.
“Check it out.” He slid the paper down the counter to her. “I knew Colonels Smoking Gun went back to Leo and Three Bars. But look at his dam. Joe Reed. Top Deck and, of course, Dual Rey. He’s foundation bred through and through.”
“That’s so exciting.”
The face she turned up to him should have lit the room, it glowed with so much excitement. It pleased her to know he was satisfied, and not for her own personal gain. He would bet his custom-made spurs that she would never advertise her part in his selection of Dudley. All she wanted was for him to succeed.
It humbled him, that support. Humbled and filled him with gratitude and made him want to do something he knew he shouldn’t.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
He saw her still. “For what?”
“For being you.”
He didn’t want to do it. If he guessed correctly, she didn’t really want him to kiss her, either, and not because she wasn’t attracted to him. Their physical awareness of each other electrified the air. No. Her reluctance stemmed from the same internal misgivings that he echoed. Yet neither of them moved.
“What is it with you
?” he asked. “I keep telling myself to stay away, but I can’t seem to get you off my mind.”
He saw her swallow. “Me, too.”
His fingers had found her jawline, and he marveled at how soft she was.
“Do you have magic powers, Jillian? Because I feel as if I’m under a spell.”
He could feel her breath on his hand. It fell with greater and greater frequency as he stroked the side of her neck. Vanilla and berries. The smell of her sweetness made him lean toward her.
“If I did have powers, I’d cast a spell to ward you off.”
“And I’d break that spell.” He couldn’t take it anymore. “With a kiss.”
Her eyes sprang open. His lips captured hers. It was like the last kiss but different. No more tentative exploration, just pressure and heat and then the soft glide of her tongue passing between his lips and then...heaven.
If she was a witch, surely she had him charmed.
Her mouth opened. The tips of their tongues brushed, once, twice, and then he angled his head and stormed the soft defenses of her mouth. A thrust and a parry and then a returning prod of her own tongue, and meanwhile they drew closer and closer until they were chest to chest and hip to hip and thigh to thigh and Wes knew she fought a losing battle.
She pulled her head away.
“We can’t.”
“I know.”
“It’d be stupid.”
“I don’t care.”
Her gaze flicked upward. The heat in his eyes was her undoing. “I don’t, either.”
Chapter Thirteen
He took her hand and led her out of the family room and toward his bedroom. Already a tightening had begun in his groin, one that spurred him on and made his steps quicken as he headed down the hall. She didn’t resist, not even when he paused for a moment before the bedroom door, or when he opened that door and revealed a room decorated in browns and beige with the bed to the right. When he turned to face her near the edge of his bed, he was struck by her beauty. Her eyes. They were the color of moss after a new rain, a bright green that fascinated him with its intensity. But it wasn’t just the color of those eyes; it was what was in them, too.
Kissed by a Cowboy Page 10