The Playboy's Own Miss Prim

by Mindy Neff

  Dora, in all her appearance of innocence, was a master at having the last word and coming out on top. Or perhaps it was because of her innocence that she was able to dismiss the subject so easily, to suddenly appear so unaffected, to make him doubt his powers of seduction and his own eyesight even.

  She stepped forward, gave Katie a smacking kiss on her cheek and Ethan a sassy pat on his.

  “I’ll pass, thanks. And opt for the warm heat, hotshot. It’s better for the baby.”

  “OKAY,” ETHAN SAID as he carried Katie back downstairs a good while later. Both of them had on a clean change of clothes. At least he did. Katie only wore a fresh diaper. At the rate she made messes, he didn’t see any sense in continually wrestling with buttons and snaps. His bright idea of hosing her off had ended up including himself and half the bathroom, as well.

  “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” he asked rhetorically. “And it used up another hour. Before long it’ll be lunchtime.” He’d never known a day could be filled with so much activity and new endeavors and still drag so. “I don’t like to go so far as to say you’re boring, kiddo, but this is tough, you know? I’m used to hanging out with people who aren’t quite so short—no offense—and people who talk.”

  Katie ignored his monologue, bent double and nearly slipped out of his arms when she spied Max. The dog didn’t help matters by happily licking at the baby’s bare toes, eliciting a giggle and a renewed attempt to flip out of his hold.

  “Max, quit it. Why don’t we all go in and watch a nice civilized cartoon? Surely the satellite dish’ll pick up Daffy Duck or something?”

  “Uck,” Katie tried to parrot.

  “Very good. Duck. Can you say duck?”

  Instead of picking up the lesson, she wiggled to get down. Just as well. He felt like an idiot. If anybody came in here and heard him repeating words in singsong baby talk, they’d rib him clear into next year.

  He set Katie on the floor and admonished Max to guard her while he flipped through the channels on the theater-size television. His fingers paused over the remote when the sports channel appeared on screen. Complements of excellent surround-sound, the room came alive with the buzzing whiz and zoom of NASCAR’s finest champions, the amplified vibrations reverberating through minuscule speakers with massive power. The vroom, vroom, vroom of screaming engines was so true to life he could practically feel the rumble in his chest, smell and taste the rubber and spent gas.

  It was too early for a beer, but it wouldn’t hurt to sit and watch for a while. He didn’t normally have the luxury of taking in a race in the middle of the day. Halfway to a comfortable spot on the couch, he was jerked back to reality when Katie squealed and pulled herself up on the table, snatching the magazine closest to her and ripping a page before he could juggle the remote and get to her.

  “Okay, okay. I hear you. Cartoons.” He hooked an arm around her soft, bare belly and lifted her to his knee, taking one last moment to appreciate Petty’s skill on the inside turn before flipping the channels.

  He spared an accusing glance at the dog. “Fine baby-sitter you turn out to be, Max. She was ripping magazines on your watch, you know.”

  Katie tried to get down. He bounced his knee, and that distracted her for all of two seconds before she did her sliding snake impersonation. Faced with the choice of catching her around the neck or letting her go, he chose the latter, and impressed himself with his ability to flip channels and move objects out of Katie’s lightning-quick reach at the same time.

  “Perfect,” he said when the satellite finally picked up a cartoon channel. “Dennis the Menace. The two of you will have plenty in common, so watch.”

  As though absolutely mesmerized, Katie plopped right down on her diapered butt and stared raptly at the television images, her little hands with their pudgy rolls of fat creasing her wrists resting on her equally pudgy legs.

  “Amazing.” Ethan breathed a sigh of relief and congratulated himself on an accomplishment. He glanced at the clock in the corner. Another five minutes had passed. That was good. It was five minutes closer to lunchtime. And after that was nap time. There were schedules to follow here.

  When a stallion brayed outside, Ethan was drawn to the window, the remote still in his hand. Duke of Earl was at the teasing rail with Southern Belle. With an expert eye, Ethan watched the horse’s mannerisms. Duke’s upper lip curled as his magnificent head lifted, a good indication that Belle was in heat. Duke called to her again, and Belle answered by laying back her ears and raising her tail.

  Ethan nodded. “Okay, guys, she’s ripe. Get her while she’s hot.”

  Behind him, Katie babbled to Max. He glanced at the two of them and was sidetracked from the breeding outside. “Nice, Katie,” he admonished. “Be nice to Max. He’s not used to having his ears pulled.”

  Katie shrieked and clapped and ignored him. Thankfully the dog took the roughhousing like a docile lamb. If there had been any question in Ethan’s mind over Katie’s safety around Max, he would never have allowed the two in the same room together.

  “Ax,” she squealed, a bubble of saliva popping at her lips.

  Ethan smiled. Cute kid. Messy kid, he noted as drool dribbled on her pooched-out belly. “Yeah, Max,” he repeated. “Now watch the show. There’s a good girl.”

  He looked back out the window, wishing he was out there to help his brothers. He loved being part of the process when excellent bloodlines were about to be mixed. Breeding was business, but it was also erotic, exciting, rewarding.

  He glanced over to see that Katie had crawled on top of Max and was now lying out flat on the dog, slobbering on Max’s yellow fur. He stepped away from the window, then stopped. Max seemed perfectly happy to allow himself to be used as a human body pillow. Katie’s soft little cheek lay against the golden retriever’s neck, her pudgy fingers curled just beneath the dog’s ears. Maybe nap time would come before lunchtime.

  “We need Dora’s camera.”

  Katie’s head sprang up, her round blue eyes sparkling. Startled, Max’s head jerked up, too, his annoyed brown eyes directed at Ethan for disturbing the peace. As if anything around this baby could be remotely described as peace.

  “Dody,” Katie said, making a hash out of Dora’s name.

  “No. She’s outside.” Where he’d like to be, he thought.

  Katie looked at the door. So did the dog. Katie patted Max—a little too hard—then plopped back down as though she’d had an exhausting day and staying up on all fours was just too taxing. Max flopped back down, too.

  Ethan considered joining them both on the floor, perhaps encouraging that early nap—never mind the schedule—but the sound of breeding activity once more drew his attention to the corrals, and he moved back to the window.

  He frowned when he saw Dora standing by the fence talking to Manny, one of the handlers. Just now, though, Manny wasn’t doing much handling. He was practically falling all over himself entertaining Dora, and by the gesturing of his hands, he was obviously explaining what had transpired at the teasing rail and the next step of the process as the horses were being led around to each another, positioned and ready for Duke to cover Belle.

  When he had a chance to really think about it, he decided that this wasn’t necessarily the proper sight for Dora to witness. Granted, her sensibilities didn’t appear to be delicate, but it was the principle of the matter—of who she was.

  He might have spent a few minutes on the hypocritical line of this thinking and his own accountability for the earlier scene he’d initiated in Katie’s bedroom with Dora, but Katie was on the move again, and Ethan had to abandon the window to chase after her.

  She wanted up in his arms and then down. She wanted the magazines and everything else that wasn’t nailed down. As fast as he cleaned up a mess, she made another one.

  He heard the familiar sounds of the ranch and knew his brothers would be coming in for lunch soon. Thank God. Reprieve, for surely Dora would lend a hand with Katie.

  And adult
conversation. He couldn’t remember when he’d last looked forward to something as simple as conversation. Words. Whole sentences that didn’t just come from him. He would find out all the details of the morning, ask if the farrier had seen to Pride of Knight’s shoes….

  Max barked in alarm and Ethan whipped around, immediately reacting to the retriever’s frenzied pitch, his heart thundering in his chest before he’d even located the source of discord. He’d only turned his back for two seconds. What now?

  Katie was across the room, standing with the aid of the oak shelves to steady her, one of the knobs off the stereo unit held like a prize in her hand, her little white teeth gleaming in gleeful pride.

  The destruction of his expensive entertainment equipment never even crossed his mind.

  Hazards and horrors did.

  Before he could get to her, she had the knob shoved in her mouth.

  “No!”

  Startled, she plopped on her butt and sucked in a breath.

  And that was the last sound she made.

  OhGodohGodohGod.

  Ethan snatched her up. “Come on, baby. Don’t choke on me.” He reached in her mouth, couldn’t feel the disk, and that’s when the fear really slammed into him. His hands trembled and he wanted to cry, wished Katie would cry.

  But she was silent. Staring at him with wide, frightened blue eyes. Expecting him to do something. He was the adult. He was responsible. He was supposed to take care of her.

  Yet all he could think about was panic.

  Pleasepleaseplease. His heart pounded and his stomach roiled like a cauldron of acid. He flipped her around, his arm across her tummy, and had an insane thought to run. He had to get to Dora. Dora would know what to do. He was inept. A failure. He hadn’t done his job right. It wasn’t even noon, for God’s sake, and he’d screwed up.

  Fear was like a wild beast clawing at his belly as his baby daughter started to go limp. Her breathing was obstructed. She couldn’t get air in or out.

  He was losing her.

  God, no. Please, no. Not before he’d even had a chance to have her, to know her, to see her grow and flourish, to see if her wisps of blond hair would deepen to his darker brown, to put her on her first pony and lead her around the corral.

  His mouth was bone dry, and the air burned his lungs as he tried to suck it in.

  “Come on, baby. Come on. Spit it out for Daddy. Please!” His heart felt as if it would pound out of his chest, but he had to focus, had to think.

  Instincts took over then. For a moment he flashed on an image of the dirty alleyways of Chicago, on the helpless feelings of a little boy who had to be strong, independent…capable. A little boy responsible for the lives and safety of loved ones.

  He shook away the dark images, tipped Katie forward across his forearm, prayed like he’d never prayed before.

  Like a gift from above, the rough depression of his arm across her belly forced air out of her lungs and the knob shot out, bringing with it a cough and a piercing wail from Katie.

  It was the most welcome sound he’d ever heard.

  Hugging her to him, he sat right down in the middle of the floor and tried like the devil to get his spit back. He rubbed her back and soothed, speaking nonsense, barely aware that he’d picked up the knob and clutched it in his fist.

  Katie continued to cry, and he continued to hold. Just held on tight. He wasn’t cut out for this. He couldn’t take it.

  He was aware of voices as Dora and his brothers came in for lunch. But he never budged.

  And that’s how they found him, sitting on the floor, with Max whining and Katie whimpering and Ethan as still as stone, his eyes squeezed shut, just holding on.

  Laughter turned to silence, then concern. Footsteps whispered like noiseless, urgent catechisms of alarm—Can you speak? Who’s hurt? What happened? What? What? What?—as they traversed the length of the room, but Ethan didn’t open his eyes.

  “Ethan?”

  Dora’s voice. Soft and calm yet frightened. He still didn’t have the strength to look up. He needed another minute. Because just then he wasn’t certain he wasn’t going to join Katie in her crying jag.

  “Ethan, what’s wrong?”

  He took a deep breath, ran his palm softly over Katie’s back, rubbed his chin over her silky, nearly nonexistent hair.

  Dora’s perfume swirled around him as she dropped to her knees beside him, placed one of her hands on his back, the other over his on Katie’s back. “Ethan, talk to me, please. You’re scaring me.”

  “You’ll have to stand in line.” He cleared his throat. “I’m scared enough for ten people right now.” He glanced up at Grant and Clay, who were also hovering. His look was accusing, even when he knew darn well the incident wasn’t their fault. It was nobody’s fault but his own for taking his eyes off Katie. Still, he opened his palm, showing the knob.

  “Damn,” Grant breathed, and didn’t even apologize for the language. He knelt down. “She got it in her mouth?”

  “Yeah, and nearly choked.”

  “Is she okay?” Clay asked.

  “Better than me,” Ethan said, because Katie was now thoroughly intrigued by the small huddle they were all in—and she was the center of attention. Even Max had nosed his way back into the circle.

  “Ax,” Katie whispered, and Ethan pressed his lips against her sweaty temple.

  “Max barked to warn me,” Ethan told his brothers and Dora, unable to get the horror out of his mind. He’d been stomped by an unruly stallion, seen men gored and bloodied on the ranch and in rodeos, but nothing seemed to compare.

  Dora’s hand was still on his back, soothing him, he realized. He glanced at her. “How do you do this?”

  She seemed to understand. “Babies are quick, Ethan. Sometimes you have to wonder how they ever make it past toddler stage with the stuff they get into and do.”

  “Don’t even say that.” Katie was making noises as if she’d like to get loose, but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. He wiped the lingering tears off her round, squishy cheeks and nearly lost his hold on his emotions when she reached up and patted his face.

  “Here, why don’t I take her,” Dora said.

  He nodded. “Thanks. I could use a few minutes to find my knees.”

  “I’ll go see about lunch. Is your stereo ruined?”

  “Screw the stereo,” Ethan burst out.

  “Who cares about the stereo,” Grant said at the same time.

  “Stereos can be replaced,” Clay chimed in simultaneously.

  There was a beat of silence when Ethan relived the horrible experience all over again. “Yeah, they can be replaced,” he said softly. “But Katie can’t.”

  “She’s fine, Ethan.” Dora put a hand on his arm, stepping closer when Katie reached out a hand to do the same. She brought them into a circle. A family circle.

  The thought winged out of nowhere, startling him.

  “If you don’t mind getting a head start on lunch, my brothers and I’ll spend a few minutes in here babyproofing the room.”

  Dora laughed. “With this many sophisticated big-boy toys, it’ll take more than a few minutes. And, hey, look on the bright side, Ethan. At least she didn’t get swept into the wall like a James Bond stunt or something.”

  “Don’t joke,” he said, then felt the blood rush from his head. “My God, that could have happened. I was messing with the remote, looking for cartoons. I turned the sensor back on.”

  Babyproofing was going to be a bigger project than he’d anticipated. Dora had needled him about his lifestyle and how a baby would fit into it.

  Today he saw just how far removed his world was from that of a man with a lifetime responsibility of a child.

  Chapter Seven

  “Okay, sweet girl, you gotta help me out here. I’m starting to look bad. You make messes that send me into a tailspin, take my stereo knobs and nearly choke to death, and now you’re about to turn me into a zombie.” Ethan was exhausted, and clearly Katie was, too,
but she wasn’t going to bed as easily as Dora claimed she normally did.

  Katie raised her arms, crying pitifully, and Ethan lifted her back out of the crib. “Okay, we’ll negotiate. I’ll rock, and you sleep. And you can have the pacifier if you promise not to stick it anywhere weird or swallow it whole.”

  Warm and cuddly, she latched on to the pink suckie thing and snuggled into his arms as he rocked, her eyelids growing heavy, then popping back open as she fought sleep harder than a bronc rider fights to stay on his mount.

  Resting his head against the back of the rocker, he absently listened to the lulling creak, creak, creak of the wood and thought about the day.

  After the choking incident, Ethan had wanted to run as far away from responsibility as he could. He’d been afraid to touch lest he screw up, afraid to trust himself alone with the baby. And though Dora had spent a good part of the afternoon with him, easing him back into the routine, she’d more or less told him to get a grip, had actually used the trite, “falling off a horse and getting back on” cliché. That said, she’d gone right back on her merry way, perching a kitten in the window to sketch, snapping pictures of everything that moved, charming his brothers and his ranch hands…and him.

  The woman was an intriguing mix of self-assurance, innocence, fun and perpetual motion. She could soothe with a touch, inflame with a look and wear a man out just watching her busyness.

  And it was getting more difficult by the minute to remember that he was supposed to keep his hands off her.

  A burst of laughter from downstairs had him tensing and looking quickly down at Katie. The creak of the rocker ceased as he went still, held his breath. She didn’t stir, was thankfully asleep, undisturbed by whatever was going on below.

  Carefully he stood, then froze again when she inhaled and exhaled deeply. So far so good. He laid her in the crib, covered her with a light blanket, had an urge to run his palm over her angelic cheek but was afraid even the light touch would energize her once more and he’d have to start all over with the bedtime process.

  How one little baby could get the better of a strong, thirty-four-year-old man was beyond him.