Marriage, Maverick Style!

by Christine Rimmer

  “Right. Well, I do have suggestions. Two of them. Number one, buy a place here in Rust Creek Falls. Promise Tessa you’ll come here as often as possible, at least a few times a year—and mean it. That should help to reassure her she won’t be leaving behind the town she loves.”

  “That’s good. I like it.”

  “I’ll text you the number of a good local Realtor.”

  “Terrific. But what about how to convince Tessa that I do want children?”

  “Well, I think you have to spend some time with children as a way to help you prove to yourself and to her that you really do enjoy them.”

  Enjoy children. That was asking a lot. He did want the baby, but as for kids in general, well, he mostly wanted nothing to do with them until they were old enough to hold a job and appreciate a good cigar.

  He asked, “How exactly am I going to spend a lot of time with kids?”

  “Easy. Rust Creek Falls is crawling with babies right now. You know about Jamie Stockton?”

  “Who?”

  “Jamie Stockton. Recently, his wife gave birth to triplets. She didn’t make it.”

  “You mean his wife died having those babies?”

  “Soon after. There were complications, and she didn’t pull through.”

  Carson felt vaguely sick. What if that happened to Tessa?

  But it wouldn’t. No freaking way. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Ryan asked gingerly, “Carson, you okay?”

  “I’m fine, I... My God, the poor guy.”

  “Yeah. Very tough. And Jamie’s a rancher. The man’s not only lost his wife—he’s on his own running his ranch with three babies to take care of. With all the babies born lately, Country Kids day care is full.”

  “But isn’t Walker Jones opening a Just Us Kids center here any day now?”

  “Just Us Kids opened last Monday. But there’s another problem. The cost of professional day care for three infants is through the roof. So several women in town have established a baby chain for the triplets.”

  “A baby what?”

  “Chain. People volunteer to give a hand with the little ones so that Jamie can put in a full day’s work on the ranch.”

  “Wait. Hold on. Are you suggesting I should babysit triplets?”

  “Carson, you have to start somewhere. Might as well jump right in. Let me call Fallon O’Reilly. From what I’ve heard, she’s the one running the baby chain.”

  * * *

  After he hung up with Ryan, Carson called the Realtor his friend had recommended. He told her what he was looking for, and she promised to show him some houses the following afternoon.

  The next morning, when Carson should have been at the Manor dealing with any number of minor business emergencies that kept cropping up in his absence from Drake headquarters, Carson drove out to Jamie Stockton’s ranch instead.

  A pretty redhead answered the door. “Carson, right? Ryan said you’d be coming. I’m Fallon O’Reilly, a friend of the Stockton family. I’m pretty much in charge of the baby chain.” She held out her hand. Carson took it and gave it a shake. “Come on in.”

  He stepped over the threshold and followed her down a hallway.

  She chattered back at him as she went. “Jamie’s out mending fence. But he said to tell you thank you.”

  “Happy to help.” He tried to sound confident. But a baby was crying at the end of the hall. He longed to spin on his heel, race back out the front door and burn rubber getting out of there.

  Three hours later, he’d not only changed two loaded diapers; he’d rocked all three blue-eyed Stockton babies, whose names were Jared, Henry and Kate. One by one, they wailed when he held them, their little faces going beet red, tiny noses and rosebud mouths twisting, miniature fists flailing. Even worse, when the one he held started crying, one or both of the other two would get going, as well. Poor Fallon would have to settle them all down.

  At least the redhead had sense enough not to leave him alone with the children during the ordeal. She told him not to take all the howling personally. “They’ll get used to you. You’ll see.”

  The first couple of hours crawled by. All he wanted was out of there. But at the end, Fallon made him hold the smallest baby, Kate, again. He fed Kate a bottle. She started out bawling, same as before. He rocked her gently and kept his body loose, his face calm. Eventually she seemed to settle a little. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she latched on to the nipple, shut her eyes and got to work on that bottle. He wouldn’t go so far as to call her happy to have him holding her, but at least she seemed willing to relax and let it happen.

  Carson felt pretty damn good by then. Who said he didn’t like babies? He did, damn it. He liked babies—and they could learn to like him.

  He could do this. Piece of cake.

  Before he left, Fallon put him on the schedule. He had nine to noon, Tuesday and Thursday, for the next two weeks. Fallon said that most of the time, he would have another babysitter to help him. With three babies to look after, it worked best to have two sets of ready hands. There would definitely be another sitter working with him next time, on Tuesday. After that, well, they would see.

  Carson returned to the Manor for an online meeting and to make a few calls. He ordered a sandwich from room service and ended up working until about two.

  When he got back to the boardinghouse, Melba met him in the hallway. “I thought I heard you come in. Claire’s baking cookies.”

  “Chocolate chip?” he asked with enthusiasm, though he already knew. The mouthwatering smells of warm sugar, vanilla and melted chocolate had greeted him when he walked in the back door.

  “Come with me.” Tessa’s grandmother led him to the kitchen, where Claire was just taking another batch from the oven.

  Melba put three cookies on a plate and filled a glass with milk for him. “There you go.” She patted his back and took the seat next to him.

  He bit into a warm cookie. “These are perfect, Claire.”

  Tessa’s sister sent him a smile from her spot at the stove just as Tessa herself appeared in the open doorway. She looked amazing, as always, in shorts and a Save the Whales T-shirt, her hair loose on her shoulders, all wild and curly, her unforgettable face scrubbed clean of makeup.

  There was that moment again. Their eyes met and—bam. He’d never met a woman like her. She did something to him, rearranged every molecule in his body with nothing more than a look.

  They were going to make it. They would be a family. It was all going to work out.

  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

  She grabbed a plate and chose two cookies for herself, then dropped into the seat next to him. A little groan escaped her as she took that first bite. He did love a woman who ate like she meant it. “Best ever, Claire,” she said, then slid him a glance. “How’s everything over at Maverick Manor?”

  “Fine. I took a long meeting with a group of distributors, made some calls, handled email.”

  “Sounds productive.”

  He laid it on her. “And before that I spent three hours at Jamie Stockton’s ranch helping Fallon O’Reilly look after Jamie’s triplets.”

  Slowly, Tessa set down the remains of her cookie. Claire and Melba shared a look, and Melba patted him fondly on the back again. Oh, he was getting in good with Melba. And that pleased him no end.

  A man needed to get in good with his future wife’s grandmother.

  Tessa finally forced a laugh. “You’re not serious.”

  “Oh, but I am.” He ate another delicious bite of warm cookie. “It was touch and go at first. But I’m getting the hang of it. I joined the baby chain for Tuesday and Thursday morning next week and the week after that.”

  “Baby chain. By that you mean you’re babysitting Jamie Stockton’s triplets?” Her tone, hitting midway be
tween stunned and disbelieving, was not especially flattering.

  “Yes, I am.” He reached for his last cookie.

  Tessa stood up and offered her hand. “Come with me.”

  “As though I could ever refuse you anything.” He turned to the others. “Melba, Claire. Thanks for the cookies.” The women gave him nods and smiles as he rose and followed Tessa out.

  At the base of the back stairs, she turned to him. “What are you up to?” The words made demands, but her tone was sweet. Tender. Maybe even pleased.

  He swallowed the last bite of his cookie and brushed the crumbs from his hands. Then he touched her. Because he wanted to. Because she always felt so right. Because he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without her in it. He traced his finger down her soft cheek, guided a wild curl away from her eye. “Finding out if maybe I could like babies.”

  “And?”

  He bent close and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’m thinking it’s doable.”

  “Carson...” She said it on a cookie-scented sigh, those dark eyes shining up at him.

  “I have an idea. I’m thinking we could do it together, take care of Jamie Stockton’s triplets. I’ll call Fallon and tell her I have another victim—I mean, babysitter.”

  She smiled at his silly joke, but then she caught her lower lip between her teeth and worried it a little. “Babies always cry when I hold them.”

  “I understand. Believe me. They do the same with me. Today was two and a half hours of nonstop wailing. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. But I stuck with it. And then near the end, the baby girl, Kate, gave in and let me hold her. I fed her a bottle. I have to say, once you get a fresh diaper on them and they finally stop yowling, they’re kind of cute.”

  She gazed up at him so steadily. “Tuesday and Thursday, you said?”

  He nodded. “Nine to noon.”

  “Well, all right. You call Fallon. Tell her I’ll be coming with you to help out.”

  “Excellent. And about this afternoon. You free?”

  She went on tiptoe and kissed him. “I am.”

  “Good. I’ve got three houses to look at and I want you to come see them with me.”

  “Houses? Why?”

  “Don’t ask so many questions. Just be patient. Everything will become crystal clear in the end.”

  * * *

  It was after five when they finished touring the last house. A two-story tan clapboard with black shutters, the place was a fixer-upper on five acres just a mile southwest of town, not far from the Crawford ranch, the Shooting Star.

  The Realtor shook their hands and said she would call Carson in the morning to talk about the properties they’d seen and to offer a few more houses he might want to look at. He and Tessa stood on the front step and watched her get in her car and drive away.

  “Sit with me.” He pulled Tessa down beside him on the top step. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think you haven’t explained to me what is going on.”

  He entwined his fingers with hers. “I can’t move here year-round.”

  “I know.”

  “However, I’m actually to the point where I would do it, for you—and also because I somehow feel more at home here than I ever have anywhere else.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “You feel at home here? Really?”

  He met her eyes and never wanted to look away. “Maybe it’s Claire’s cooking. Or the way your grandmother treats me like one of the family.”

  “She’s a card-carrying member of the Carson Drake fan club, and that is no lie.”

  He teased, “You don’t have to sound so perplexed about it.”

  “I’m not. We all know your charms are legendary.”

  “You noticed. Excellent. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I would move here, but I can’t run my businesses effectively unless I’m in LA most of the year.”

  “You really...” Her soft voice broke and the words got lost. But she found them again. “You really mean that? You would do that? Move to Rust Creek Falls?”

  “I would if I could, for you. For the baby.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s so crazy. I think I believe you.”

  He switched hands, taking hers with his right hand, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders. “Maybe someday, when our son is all grown up and ready to take over the Drake companies—”

  “Carson,” she chided. But he heard the smile in her voice. “She’s not even born yet.”

  “You’re right. And I don’t want to make his choices for him, anyway. But right now, what I can do is buy a house here. I figure I can get away a few times a year, stay a few weeks each visit.” She didn’t reply, but she did hold his hand a little tighter. He said, “I want you to help me choose the house.”

  She tipped her head back. Her eyes were stormy, full of longing. And doubt. “I need more time, Carson. Please try to understand. You’re being so completely wonderful. I want to go for it, marry you, move to LA and be with you. But then I start thinking that I’ve only known you for a matter of weeks. Yes, we made a baby. And, yes, we need to deal with that. But I don’t want to rush into anything. It’s too soon. And I refuse to make the same big mistakes all over again.”

  Don’t compare me to that douche bag. Somehow he managed not to say that. He kept his breathing even, held the angry words inside. Instead, he asked her gently, “Did I say the M word just then?”

  “No, but—”

  “Did I ask you again to move to LA with me?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “All I said is I’m buying a house here, and it’s important to me that you like the house I choose.”

  Another silence from her. But at least she didn’t let go of his hand. Finally, she offered, “Well, if you want my opinion...”

  “Please.”

  “Something on Falls Mountain, maybe? With lots of windows and great views.”

  He thought of Collin and Willa Traub’s house, tucked among the big trees, with the world spread out below them. “I like that idea, though it could be hard to get to in the winter.”

  “Collin and Willa seem to manage. And as you said, you’ll only be here a few times a year. You could easily skip our Montana winters. They can be pretty rough.”

  He tried not to be annoyed that she assumed he couldn’t take the winters, that she spoke so easily of him in the singular, without her. Instead, he drew satisfaction from the knowledge that they’d both been thinking of the Traubs and their gorgeous rustic house. “I have a feeling Christmas in Montana is something I won’t want to miss. Christmas on Falls Mountain. I like it. I want that.”

  She chuckled then. The sound wrapped around his heart. “Well then, you’d better get that Realtor on it—don’t you think?”

  * * *

  The next morning, Saturday, when the Realtor called, he told her he wanted property on Falls Mountain. She said she’d check around a little and call him back in an hour.

  Fifty minutes later, she called again. “I have one house available. It’s just a cabin, really. Six hundred square feet. On the northwest slope.”

  “Too small.”

  “Yes. You’d be buying it for the land, and then you would have to build.”

  “I’d like to see it—and now you’ve got me wondering. How about any other nice pieces of property on the mountain? Just the land, I mean. I could build my own place. Anything available?”

  “You’ve read my mind, Carson. I have two parcels you can look at. One is halfway up, not far from the falls. The other’s nearer the summit.”

  He told her he wanted to see all three—the cabin and the two parcels. She said she could show them to him that day, and he agreed to meet her at the cabin at one o’clock.

  When he hung up, he tapp
ed on Tessa’s door. A moment later, it swung open. She had a pencil stuck behind her ear and a curl falling over her eye. She blew the curl aside.

  He resisted the need to get his hands on her. Bracing an arm on the door frame, he asked, “Working?”

  “Catching up on a few things, yeah.”

  “How about a ride up Falls Mountain?”

  Her slow smile lit a fire down in the core of him. “The Realtor found some possibilities?” At his nod, she asked, “When?”

  “We should leave in the next twenty minutes or so.”

  “I’m in.”

  He couldn’t bear not touching her, after all. So he reached out and guided that misbehaving curl away from her eye and behind the ear without the pencil in it. Her skin was cool satin. “Can you swim at the falls?”

  “Yes, though it’s really cold. There’s a pool at the base.”

  “Do I need a suit?” Skinny-dipping held definite appeal.

  “Sorry, but yeah. On a pretty Saturday in July, the odds are high we won’t be alone.”

  “Board shorts, it is. And let’s take a picnic. After we’re done seeing properties, we can visit the falls. Swim. Have some lunch.”

  “Twenty minutes. I’ll meet you in the kitchen, and I’ll have our lunch ready.” Before he could steal a kiss, she shut the door on him.

  * * *

  They saw the cabin property first. It was deep in the woods, on the north side of the mountain where the sunlight was sparse, with no views to speak of.

  Tessa shook her head. “This isn’t the one.”

  He agreed with her.

  Next they drove to the land near the summit.

  “This is more like it,” he said as they stood on a point overlooking the rolling valley below. He would build the house back toward the hillside, with lots of wide windows facing the view, and he’d get with Collin, make a plan to pave the road that turned to dirt on the second half of the ride up here.

  Because he would be coming to Rust Creek Falls every Christmas. And Tessa and their baby would be coming with him.

  Tessa said, “I’m guessing this is it.” She gave him a look—full of excitement and pleasure.