A Father's Promise

by Helen R. Myers

  “Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

  “Don’t be so eager—or confident. I doubt you’ll like what I’m about to say.”

  “You’re looking at the new John Paladin,” he said, a determined glint in his eye. “Shoot.”

  What she’d like to do was…No, she decided. This wasn’t the time or place.

  She drew herself erect. “First of all I want to know what kind of physical arrangement you have in mind.”

  “Physical. Well, I hadn’t really given it much thought.”

  Just as she expected, she thought, barely able to restrain from indulging in a sigh of frustration. “I think it’s best we start from there. Now I don’t for a moment consider myself up-to-date on child-care techniques, but it seems like common sense that a baby should be protected from this kind of weather. And he shouldn’t be out at night. Or too early in the morning.”

  “No, I guess not,” John replied, frowning slightly. “Only…what does that mean?”

  “I’ll come to your place.”

  His expression turned absolutely euphoric. “You’re—”

  “Don’t bother trying to flatter me,” Dana said, determined not to be charmed. “I’m doing it for him, not you.”

  “—considerate. I was going to say that’s very considerate of you.”

  “It’s merely the most practical solution. But I’ll want the right to bring my work,” she added before he could get any more effusive. “You can’t ask me to abandon my clients just because you’ve gotten yourself into a fine mess.”

  He shook his head emphatically. “Perfectly reasonable. I wouldn’t think of inconveniencing you more than necessary. And I’ll want to pay you for your time and efforts.”

  She hadn’t thought about any of that, but it immediately rankled. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “Dana, I’m asking for a lot. Why do you think Celene ran?”

  His craggy face had taken on an almost sweet perplexity that she had to stubbornly ignore. “I think the less we discuss your wife, the better,” she told him, her back rigid.

  “Soon to be ex-wife.”

  “Next,” she continued, firmly ignoring that comment as well, “under no circumstances will I stay overnight in your house. Which means if you fail to hire someone soon, and an emergency takes you out in the middle of the night to look after your cattle, you’ll have to look elsewhere for help.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Understood.”

  She didn’t like his quick, smooth reply. “I mean it, Paladin. This is not an acquiescence in any way, shape or form.”

  “A what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. I haven’t forgiven you, so no intimate conversation or references to our past relationship.”

  “You mean you’re now willing to acknowledge that we had a relationship?”

  “And if,” Dana continued, annoyed that he’d locked onto that slip, “I discover that you aren’t seriously attempting to find qualified help for the baby, I’ll leave immediately.”

  For a moment he remained still and silently stared at her. Dana had seen that look before—when he’d kissed her for the first time. She vowed that if he tried it now, she would cancel the deal entirely. She would have to out of her need for self-preservation.

  But instead he slipped his hat on his head and bent to scoop up his son. “Sounds like a fair shake to me. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “I do?” She’d thought he would balk at a few things just for the sake of principle.

  “Absolutely. As far as I can see, we’re in complete agreement.”

  “We are?”

  “I’ve only one request. You probably won’t like it because it doesn’t really give you room to say no.”

  “I don’t have any problem saying no to you when I want to, Paladin. Be assured of that.”

  “Yeah, well…I only want you to know I’ll make it up to you. The thing is…I need you to come home with me. Now.”

  Chapter Three

  “W hy?” Dana asked, her voice barely audible.

  “Because I need you to help me go through the house and list what I need to buy for the baby.”

  John watched her wrestle with this newest request, grateful to be given the added time to look at her again. She had always been a unique combination of girl-next-door wholesomeness that had pulled at his heartstrings and secretiveness that had given her a far more mature, yet vulnerable quality.

  Now as he watched her sweep back the chin-length page boy that matched her chestnut-and-gold eyes, he felt all those complex feelings resurface. Along with it came the yearnings he’d had to stamp down for longer than he cared to think about.

  He wanted to smile as she lifted her strong, slightly rounded chin. He wanted to stroke away the tiny worry lines that formed over her classy nose. He wanted to soften those generous, unpainted lips she compressed into willful disapproval by covering them with his own. To coax to the surface the tentative, inexperienced side of her once again would be heaven. To win her trust and release the curiosity and desire he’d once seen flicker in her eyes would be a dream come true.

  “Well? Is it a deal?” he forced himself to ask, his jacket a bit too warm for the room, his shirt too tight for his chest.

  “You aren’t saying that you haven’t bought anything yet?” She ripped at a fingernail in a way he recognized all too well. As soon as she saw he noticed, she hastily thrust her hands behind her back. “Really, Paladin. You’ve had months to prepare for this!”

  He knew that. He knew exactly how bad things sounded, and all he could do was offer a weary lift of one shoulder. “You didn’t know Celene. She had no interest. I kept hoping she would change the closer she came to term, so I kept putting it off. And I won’t deny that I got busy with some things, too.”

  “Busy? That doesn’t justify neglect such as—as carrying your son around in a cardboard box.” With a grimace she peered into the makeshift carrier again. “This has nothing to do with you, little guy, okay?” The scowl came back the moment she glanced up again. “I suppose I’d better ask what you named him?”

  “John, Jr.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The male ego. When he spends the next twenty years of his life walking in your shadow and being known as Big John’s Little John, don’t wonder why he doesn’t thank you.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. Little John…If that had ended up as his tag, no way could he ever have handled it. “Maybe that won’t happen,” he said, remembering something. “One of the nurses at the hospital already dubbed him J.J.”

  Nothing on earth matched Dana’s eyes when they grew tender. They melted into a warm honey that John could swear he felt permeating his skin and softening his insides. The faint twitch at the left corner of her mouth was an enchanting bonus.

  “I guess that’s better,” she murmured with noticeable reluctance.

  “Is it? I wasn’t sure.”

  Her gaze darted away, then met his again, and it was at that moment that he knew his hunger was showing because the warmth was quickly veiled. “All right. I can help out for a few hours,” she said in the no-nonsense tone she used to tell her clients if they’d failed to pay one tax or another. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

  Not the most ideal of arrangements, John thought. But considering that it would get her out to the ranch for the first time in nearly a year, he figured he should count his blessings and work around it. “Okay. Thanks.”

  She quickly collected her purse and a red ski jacket that brought out the russet highlights in her hair. After turning off the desk lamp, she dug her car keys out of her pocket and opened the door for him.

  The rain had lessened somewhat, but the drive to the Long J remained a challenge. Texas in any season was like that. Go in whatever direction for a hundred miles or so and you ran into new terrain, different weather, heat to rival that of an oven, drought to make an atheist pray, floods that did the same and winter storms…. It wasn’t a life for the fainthearted, nor
for those of a mind to get rich quick. But John loved it here. The buttes accenting the cactus-and mesquite-covered plains, the big sky. A man had no excuses out here. Either he was strong or he perished.

  By the time they reached the perimeter of his property the wind was picking up, dropping the temperature a few more degrees and acting like a battering ram against their vehicles. Between the gusts and the potholes in the dirt road leading to the Long J Ranch, the trip was messy and rough. John spent far too much time glancing in the rearview mirror and worrying about the mud he was splattering over Dana’s sporty white coupé, and what this rough terrain was doing to the underside of her automobile.

  He liked the car—or more accurately, he liked seeing her in it—and he understood why she’d chosen such a feminine vehicle in a land where all that was soft and vulnerable got ravaged so easily. Wrapped around her it seemed a mark of defiance and independence. Maybe even ladylike survival.

  John waited for Dana to park beside him near the front walkway before exposing J.J. to the weather again. He half expected Durango to stick his head out of the bunkhouse and make some ill-timed, unsuitable comment about Dana’s presence, but his luck seemed to be holding. Dana, concentrating on getting the baby safely inside, didn’t even seem to pay much attention to the condition of her car.

  As they entered through the kitchen door, which he’d left unlocked as usual, he caught her glancing around and belatedly noticed the reluctance in her step. He hadn’t thought about her being wary or nervous—well, of him, of course, but not of his home; preoccupied with his own thoughts and worries, he’d failed to consider it. Because he lacked female contact as a boy—a result of losing his mother early in life and having no female relatives or close neighbors—he realized he didn’t have a good handle on their perspective at all.

  For the first time in weeks he looked around, really looked. Damn, he thought, taking in near-empty bags, boxes of snack foods scattered around the counters, the dishes in the sink. He’d done his best to accommodate Celene’s wish to avoid the sight of him, and had taken his meals with his men in the bunkhouse. Except to storm in and out, he’d ignored this section of the house. It was tunnel vision of the first order, but now, through Dana’s eyes, he saw what Celene had done to his home. It mirrored well what he’d done to his own life.

  “I’m sorry about this. I should have brought you through the other way.”

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  Did she think he’d lured her out here hoping she would clean up for him? Nothing could have been further from his mind. “No. Don’t say anything else. I promise I’ll have this place spotless when you come out next.”

  “Are you sure your wife isn’t still here?”

  Her expression suggested she expected Celene to jump out from behind the refrigerator or something. “Did you see a pink import outside?” he asked, unable to hide his bitterness.

  “A what? Oh, uh, no.”

  “Then trust me. She’s gone.”

  Deciding the faster they left this environment, the better, he led her into the living room where he put the box onto the couch and began slipping out of his jacket. As he hoped, Dana did, too. Much faster, so she could quickly free J.J. out of his not-so-comfortable trappings.

  “There you are, pumpkin,” she cooed, lifting him free of his blankets, as well. Beneath it all the baby wore the sleeper the sister of the priest who’d performed the funeral service over J.J.’s grandfather had brought over a week ago. The outfit was of a blue terry-cloth material, and he barely fit into it. “My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?”

  “Eight pounds fifteen ounces,” John offered, glad to be able to serve as an informed source.

  Dana looked at him from toe to head. “You were lucky your wife hung around for the delivery.

  “Very funny.”

  “Good grief, John. He’s going to be bigger than you.”

  It wasn’t anything he hadn’t figured out himself, and it had made him feel guilty when he thought back to the reports of how Celene had suffered during labor. Despicable as it was though, he couldn’t help being relieved—relieved that it hadn’t been Dana enduring all that pain.

  He gave himself a mental shake and clasped his hands together. “What should we do first?”

  “Wallpaper?”

  He stared blankly. Only when he noticed her droll expression did he realize she wasn’t entirely serious. “You’re right. I’d be doing both of us a favor by tearing the place down and starting from scratch. Why don’t I get a pad and pen and we’ll start here.”

  It took the better part of an hour. They finished upstairs in the room directly across from his. Dana told him it was perfect for the baby, as opposed to the guest room down where Celene had been staying and keeping J.J. on a daybed. For the morning light, she explained, when he’d eyed the plain white-walled box of a space that had been a storage room for longer than he could remember.

  “Are you sure this is right for him?” he asked, considering the curtainless window shielded only by a shade and the boxes piled between pieces of stored furniture.

  Dana was busy leaning over a tall box to view the walls as best she could with J.J. tucked close. “Mmm. Unless you want the crib in your room.”

  “In my room?” The very idea seemed bizarre.

  “He’s your son, Paladin, not a vagrant,” she admonished, her glance sarcastic. “The idea is to hear him when he cries in the middle of the night.”

  “Why should he cry?”

  That finished her. He had seen a flicker of amusement in her eyes when he’d first questioned her about the room. Now she burst into uncontrollable laughter. It didn’t give him a comfortable feeling, regardless of how captivating she looked or how much he realized he’d missed that rare sound.

  Torn between pleasure and annoyance, he grumbled, “Well, let me in on the joke, too.” He shoved a box out of the way with a booted foot. “I could use a good laugh after all these months.”

  “How sound a sleeper are you?” she managed, shifting her hold on the baby to wipe moisture from beneath a thickly lashed eye.

  “I don’t know.” He watched J.J. gaze at Dana with a different kind of fascination. “Regular, I guess.”

  “Not for long. Your Celene was a more decent person than you know.”

  John bristled, not at all pleased with the idea that she should be defending his soon-to-be ex-wife. No one knew Celene better than he did, and the woman certainly didn’t deserve Dana’s benefit of the doubt. “Why don’t you share the joke?”

  She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly to compose herself. “Babies keep their own timetables, this much I know. They like early morning breakfasts. They like fast service. They don’t like you to forget any of that.”

  Concern needled John like a dive into a bed of prickly pear. He hadn’t heard any crying since he’d brought Celene and J.J. home from the hospital. Did that mean he was a sounder sleeper than he’d thought? What if he didn’t hear when the baby called out tonight? What if something else went wrong? If he was awake for all those meals she’d mentioned, how was he going to get enough rest for tomorrow’s work load?

  “First things first,” Dana said, breaking into his all too real nightmare. Her look held understanding, and even some sympathy. “Go pick up the items on the A list. I’ll take care of things here.”

  With a dazed nod, John added, “Maybe I’d better stop at the newspaper office, as well. The sooner I put an ad in the paper, the sooner I’ll find some help.”

  “Good idea.”

  But he didn’t leave. He continued standing there gazing at her, wondering how she could look so calm, so natural, so…perfectly right to be holding his son. “Thanks, Dana.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Maybe, but I’m only beginning to realize what a task I’ve asked you to take on.”

  A faint blush crept into her cheeks. “Yeah, well, mine’s nothing compared to yours…Dad. Now scram before you remin
d me what a fool I am for being here.”

  “You’re no fool, Irish. Personally, I think you’re the best.”

  “Sure I am, and you know who said that first? My father, every time he sobered up and finished apologizing for not being able to keep his fists to himself.”

  It hadn’t been right to cut him off like that. It hadn’t been like her at all. As Dana listened to John’s truck pull away, she leaned against the doorjamb in what was to be J.J.’s nursery, and waited until the shakiness inside her settled to a calmer queasiness. John had always had the ability to do that to her, and she now had to face the fact that, despite all the work she’d done to combat that, nothing had changed. Still, she was ashamed of herself for her behavior; it had never been her way to be intentionally unkind. Until today. Drat him for bringing out the most unfamiliar responses in her.

  “Well, we have a ton of work to do. We’d better get started,” she said, glancing down at the dark-eyed child staring soberly at her. Immediately the inexplicable surge of warmth and excitement she’d felt over this tiny bundle rejuvenated itself like before, but now in double doses. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, either, are you?”

  J.J. blew her a bubble.

  “Poor sweetings. You didn’t ask for any of this. How are you going to manage with no momma and a half-tamed Irish grizzly bear for a daddy? Life isn’t fair. But I have to tell you it’s not fair for you to look just like him, either. I might have been able to say no if you’d had the mercy of favoring your momma, or had a big fat nose, or a bald, knobby head. But, no, you had to be the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a fine mess, my friend. One that’s going to cause a lot of trouble if someone isn’t careful.”

  That someone had better be her, she thought, kissing the baby on his forehead before carrying him to John’s room for a diaper check.

  Since the beginning she’d tried to warn John that nothing could ever come of his interest in her. Regardless of what emotions he’d stirred in her teenage heart, the combination of her troubled home life and his competitive nature had only created a scenario ripe for heartbreak. She hadn’t let herself succumb to him. Never completely. She’d refused to make the mistakes her mother had, mistakes which had forced the poor woman to endure brutality in the name of love.