by Ally Blake
She managed exactly seven minutes every time, before waking and crying. Crying that stopped the moment he put her on his shoulder and walked the floor. Which was great in the short term. But at some point he needed to eat. Sleep. Do chores.
More than once he’d felt his control slipping and wondered if he was more like his father than he’d thought. God, he didn’t want to think so. From Wyatt’s earliest memories, crying hadn’t been tolerated. Mitch Black made sure of that. Wyatt wanted to think he had more self-control than his father. More compassion.
But baby Darcy was testing him.
He’d try Barbara’s number once more. And then he’d call someone. He tried to ignore the end of the letter. The part where she apologized and said she trusted him. He’d given her no reason to. And yet … something about it made him feel as if he would be failing her if he didn’t do this.
He sighed, turning back toward the kitchen, craning his neck at an odd angle to see if Darcy was asleep. It was almost as if he was operating on two levels—the one that needed information and planning, and the one with the immediate, pressing problem of keeping a baby’s needs met.
Suddenly he had a new respect for mothers who seemed to juggle it all with aplomb.
A knock on the door broke the silence and Darcy’s hands jerked out, startled. A quick check showed her tiny eyes open again. Wyatt pushed back annoyance and headed for the door, with a prayer that it was Barbara saying it had all been a mistake.
Instead he found Ellison Marchuk on his dilapidated porch.
“Oh,” he said, and she frowned.
“Disappointed, I see.” She pushed her hands into her jacket and he fought against the expansion in his chest at seeing her again.
This afternoon he’d been an idiot. He’d rushed over there thinking only of getting help, but he’d been inside all of thirty seconds when his priorities had shifted. He was supposed to have all his thoughts on his predicament, and instead he’d been noticing her hair, or the way her dark lashes brought out the blue in her eyes, or how her sweater accentuated her curves. He wasn’t disappointed at all. Even though he should be.
“Not at all,” he mumbled roughly. “I was just hoping it was Barbara, that’s all.”
“It would solve everything, wouldn’t it?” She offered a small smile. His gaze dropped to her full mouth.
“Are you going to invite me in, Mr. Black?”
Of course. He was standing there like a dolt, thinking how pretty she looked in the puffy fleece jacket. Clearly she wasn’t thinking along the same lines, as she persisted in calling him Mr. Black. Her body language this afternoon had spoken volumes. She couldn’t even meet his gaze at the end, and she’d taken a step back.
And now here she was.
He moved aside and held the door open for her to enter.
Instantly his eyes saw his house the way hers must—in stark comparison to the pristine, high-class Cameron dwelling. They were from two different worlds. It couldn’t be more plain from the look on her face.
“I haven’t had time to pay much attention to the inside,” he explained, then mentally kicked himself for apologizing. He didn’t need to apologize, for Pete’s sake! It was his house, purchased with his own money. He could do what he damned well pleased with it. He’d be a poor rancher if he put dressing up the inside ahead of his operation.
“I expect you’ve been busy,” she replied softly.
“Something like that.” He forced himself to look away, away from the brightness of her eyes that didn’t dull even in the dim lamplight.
“I just wanted to see how you were making out with Darcy.”
“I can put her down for exactly seven minutes. After that, she starts crying again.” He shifted the slight weight on his arm once more. “So I keep picking her up.”
Her gaze fell on his arms and desire kicked through his belly, unexpected and strong.
“Babies like to be snuggled,” she murmured. “Think about it. If you had spent the first nine months of your life somewhere that was always warm and cozy, you’d want that on the outside, too.”
Was it just him, or had her voice hitched a little at the end? He studied her face but saw nothing. He realized she was standing in front of the door with her coat and shoes on. He should invite her in. She’d helped once today. Perhaps she could again.
“I’m sorry, Miss Marchuk …” He paused, hearing how formal that sounded. “Ellison. Please … let me take your coat and come in. I managed to make coffee. I can offer you a cup.”
She looked pleased then, and smiled. His heart gave a slight thump at the way it changed her face, erasing the seriousness and making her look almost girlish. She unzipped the fleece and put it in his free hand.
“Coffee sounds great,” she replied. “And please … call me Elli. Ellison is what my mother calls me when she’s unhappy with something I’ve done.”
She looked so perfectly sweet with her blue eyes and shy smile that he answered without thinking. “You?”
She laughed, the sound light and more beautiful than anything he’d heard in a long time.
“Yes, me. Don’t let the angelic looks fool you, Black.”
He turned away, leading her to the kitchen while his lips hardened into a thin line. Angelic looks indeed. He’d been captivated by them twice today already. As he considered the bundle on his shoulder, he knew that one complication was enough. No good would come out of flirting with Elli Marchuk. He’d best remember that. His life was here, this house, this ranch. Anything else was transient, capable of moving in and out at a moment’s notice. He’d built his life that way on purpose, one planned step at a time. The last thing he wanted was to be foolish and impulsive and end up as unhappy as his parents had been.
Being careful to support Darcy’s head, he tried once more to put her into her seat. He’d only just retrieved mugs from the cupboard when she squawked again.
He sighed. There was a reason he’d never aspired to parenthood.
“Have you fed her?”
Elli’s voice came from behind him. It sounded like a criticism and he bristled, knowing full well it was a legitimate question but feeling inept just the same.
“Yes, I fed her. She burped, too.”
The squawking quieted as Elli picked her up, and Wyatt turned around, trying hard to ignore feelings of inadequacy as Darcy immediately stopped fussing.
“Maybe she’s uncomfortable. What do you think, sweetheart? “Elli turned her conversation to the baby.
“What do you think is wrong?” Wyatt asked, putting the coffeepot back on the burner.
A strange look passed over Elli’s face, one that looked like guilt and panic. But it was gone quickly. “I couldn’t say,” she replied.
“But you were so good with her this afternoon.” Wyatt put his hands on his hips.
“Lucky, that’s all. I just … remembered a few things.” The same strange look flitted over her features once more.
Wyatt took the coffee to the table. “You fooled me. You looked like you knew exactly what you were doing.” So much that Wyatt had felt completely inept. A feeling he despised. He was used to being the one in control.
Elli and Darcy walked the length of the kitchen and back. After a few moments she admitted, “I haven’t really cared for a baby before. The things I thought of were simply things I’d heard about. Not from experience, Mr. Black.”
Her chin jutted up, closing the subject but making him want to ask the questions now pulsing through his mind. But then he remembered the old saying, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” He’d benefit from whatever insight she had and be glad of it.
“I don’t really know what babies need,” he admitted. “I fed her, patted her back like you did, walked her to sleep, but every time I put her down …”
Wyatt almost groaned. Of course. He’d forgotten one important thing. He’d been so focused on getting formula the right temperature that he’d forgotten to check her diaper. Not that he had any clue what t
o do there either.
Pulling calves and shoveling out stalls was far less intimidating than one tiny newborn.
“She’s probably due for a diaper change, isn’t she?” He tried to sound nonchalant. This was a perfect opportunity. Elli must know how to change a diaper. He could simply watch her so he’d know better for the next time.
Instead, Elli came around the corner of the counter and placed Darcy back in his arms. “Here you go, Uncle Wyatt,” she said lightly. “You get diaper duty. I’ll fix the coffee. Cream and sugar?”
Oh, boy, Wyatt thought, looking down into Darcy’s pursed face, his smug plan blown to smithereens. He was in for it now.
CHAPTER THREE
WYATT HELD DARCY straight out in front of him. There’d been many firsts for him over the past few months, but this was something completely out of his league. For the first time in his life Wyatt Black was going to change a dirty diaper.
He glanced over at Elli, who was spooning sugar into cups without so much as a concerned glance in his direction. The last thing he wanted to do was look like a fool in front of her twice in one day. He did have a level of pride, after all. And he was generally a competent sort of guy.
But people—babies—were different than cows and horses and machinery. He wasn’t nearly as sure of himself when it came to human beings. And not just babies. Each time he met Ellison, his tongue seemed to tie up in knots and nothing seemed to come out the way it should.
He went to the diaper bag, retrieved a diaper and laid the baby on her blanket. He removed her sleepers and some sort of snapped-on undershirt and then the diaper. Good Lord. Wyatt paused, unsure, completely out of his element. Darcy, who’d been sucking on two fingers, took the digits from her mouth and began to squall again, protesting against the cold. He heard Elli go to the fridge and back to the counter. He refused to look up to check if she was watching.
“Hang on, hang on,” he muttered, trying to remember how he’d taken the wet diaper off so he could put the new one on the same way.
“Do babies always cry so much?” he grumbled as he cleaned up Darcy. He reached inside the bag for a new diaper.
Elli came to his side, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s the only way they have of saying what’s wrong,” she said quietly. His arm warmed beneath the touch of her fingers. It felt reassuring and friendly, not the kind of caress he was used to. The touches he was accustomed to were more demanding. Wanting something, rather than giving.
“Do you know how to do this?” he asked, holding up the tiny diaper.
“I haven’t done it before … on a baby,” she replied, her gaze darting away from his.
“Meaning you’ve done it not on a baby?” he teased, wondering what had put the dark look on her face.
“A doll,” she replied, her lips firm. “I’ve diapered a doll before.”
There was something in her voice that reached inside him and grabbed his attention. A defiance, and a defensiveness he hadn’t expected. But did he want to know? No, he decided, he didn’t want to dig into whatever reasons Ellison did or didn’t have for anything. But it didn’t mean he was insensitive to her feelings, whatever they were.
“Can we figure it out together?”
Her gaze went back to him now, the irises of her eyes a glowing sapphire. “Wyatt …”
She’d dropped the Mr. Black and used his first name. His gaze dropped to her lips—he couldn’t help it. They were pink and finely shaped and very soft looking.
He had to be careful here. Very, very careful.
“Which bit goes at the back?” He shook the white diaper gently.
She pulled back a few inches and looked away. “I think this way,” she said, sliding the diaper underneath Darcy’s bum, tabs at the back. “And diaper cream. There should be some of that, right?”
Elli watched as Wyatt dug in the bag and pulled out a tube. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed and she pulled her hand back quickly. The contact seemed to spiral straight to her tummy and she held her breath for a tiny instant.
“It doesn’t bite,” Wyatt quipped, and Elli forced a smile. Maybe it didn’t, but she wasn’t so sure about him. Unsure how to respond, she hesitated and looked at the label—it said barrier cream. Logically, it provided a barrier for the baby’s tender skin. She smoothed some on with her fingertips, ignoring the odd sensation of knowing Wyatt was watching her.
“You don’t want her getting a rash, right? And then …” She pulled the front up and went to fasten the tab. Only, she folded it over so it stuck to itself.
“Heck, I could have done that,” he said from behind her, and she heard humor in his tone as her cheeks flamed. Darcy was looking up at her with wide eyes, as if to say, Come on, people. What’s the holdup?
Elli began to laugh. Lordy, the situation was comical when she stopped to think about it. She heard Wyatt’s warm chuckle behind her and then felt his body—oh, God, his very hard, warm body—pressed against hers as he reached around her to retrieve another diaper from the bag. “I hope we get it right this time,” he murmured, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. She suppressed a delicious shiver.
“We’d better. Or else you’re going to run out of diapers in a hurry.”
Elli slid the diaper under once more and this time fastened the tabs securely to the waistband. “Ta da!” She slid away, needing to get away from him and his sexy voice and body. She avoided his gaze, the one she suspected was leveled right at her. Self-conscious, she tugged her thick sweater down over her hips, smoothing it with her palms. “Now you just have to get her dressed again.”
She left him there and went to toss away the diaper and wash her hands.
He took out a new undershirt and pajamas and carefully dressed Darcy. Then he placed her in the seat and sighed, moving to tidy up the mess before taking his place at the table. After only a few hours, things that were not usually there were cluttering countertops. Bottles and creams and rattles, where there were normally gloves and keys and perhaps the odd tool. “I haven’t had two moments to take a breath. And now I have to say thank you again.”
“It was nothing,” she replied quietly.
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. She had let down her guard for a moment, but there was something in her voice, something in the way she refused to meet his gaze right now. It had happened several times today. Evasion that told him there was a whole lot to Ellison Marchuk he didn’t know. Whatever it was, it was her business. He took a sip of hot coffee.
The immediate issue was solved, but he was beginning to see there would be more. He had no proper baby equipment, a handful of diapers, a few more bottles left. He still had chores around the ranch to look after tonight—and more repairs in the days ahead than he could possibly imagine. Barbara had been a fool to leave her daughter here. Darcy belonged with her mother, not with him.
Elli watched Wyatt over the rim of her cup. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he mulled over what to do. She wondered if all that stuff ever erupted. She guessed it did. She suspected it might have been the case the day he’d read her the riot act in his pasture.
She was glad now that she’d followed her instinct and come over. Wyatt was trying to do the right thing, she could see that, but he was totally out of his depth. And he was proud. Watching him try to change the diaper had shown her that. He didn’t want to ask for help. Men never did. And who would be the one to suffer? Darcy. Darcy couldn’t explain to Wyatt that she was hungry or wet or uncomfortable or tired. Elli wasn’t much more qualified. Everything she’d done today had been because of her prenatal classes. She’d been so afraid of caring for William that she’d signed up for a baby-care course. Until today, she hadn’t had a chance to put those classes to use.
Being with Darcy, feeling the tiny body in her arms, smelling the baby-powder scent of her was so bittersweet it cut deeply into her soul, but the alternative had been staying at home and wondering and worrying. What would Wyatt do with he
r during the day? There would be formula to mix, baths to give, diapers to change. How was he supposed to do that and maintain his ranch? He already looked exhausted.
Her gaze fell on the car seat, and the half-closed lids of the angel within it. Then back to Wyatt, his dark hair curling lightly over his forehead, his eyes dark with fatigue and worry.
“I can’t thank you enough, Elli. Twice today I was at the end of my rope.”
Elli knew that to get mixed up with the situation was a mistake. He just needed to focus on the good. “You’re doing fine,” she replied. “Not many men would have the patience to walk the floor with an infant.”
“But that’s just it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not that patient. I … I don’t want to lose patience with her.”
He wouldn’t, Elli was sure of it. Even this afternoon, when Darcy had been screaming incessantly, his expression had been one of utter concern and helplessness. She reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “I think you’re just experiencing something every new parent does,” she said. “You want to do everything right. I can see how you care for her already, Wyatt. You’ll do what’s best.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
She smiled brightly, wanting to finish her coffee and get out of there. At the moment she didn’t know which was more dangerous—Darcy and her baby-powder-scented sweetness or Wyatt’s dark sexiness. “You’ll be just fine.”
She was just finishing the last swallow of coffee in her cup when Wyatt asked plainly, “What if you stayed to help?”
Her mug hit the table with a solid thunk. “What?”
“I know it’s a huge imposition, but I need to find Barbara, and do chores, and I can’t take her to the barn with me and I can’t leave her alone in here. I’d like to hire you to help me.”