“I’m so sorry I missed the wedding, dear. Sometimes I just don’t know what gets into your father.”
“Does he know you’re here now?”
“No, but he certainly can’t stop me from seeing my own daughter, now, can he?”
“I certainly hope not” She unlocked the front door and they went inside.
“How are you, dear?”
“I’m fine.” Or she would be if Reed didn’t throw her out as soon as he learned she’d paid off his loan.
Her mother gave her a curious look. “You didn’t mention this young man of yours has a baby girl.”
News in a small town like Mar del Oro spreads as fast as a rising tide on dry sand. “She’s not his, exactly. Not yet, anyway. He’s trying to adopt her.”
“Is that why you married him? To help him adopt the baby?”
Eleanor Forrester was often more perceptive than she cared to let on. “That’s why he asked me, Mother. I married Reed because I love him.”
“I see.” She followed Ann into the kitchen. “So you’re an adoptive mother?”
Ann bent down to get her Crock—Pot out of a low cupboard. “I suppose my name will be on the forms.” Though if she didn’t convince Reed that their arrangement ought to be permanent, she’d lose Betina, too.
“Life can be very strange,” her mother said with a distracted air. “It all seems to go in circles, doesn’t it?”
Ann didn’t know what to make of that comment, so she let it slide as she found her frying pan and tried to think of any other tools or utensils that would make her domestic life a little easier.
“I’d always hoped when you had babies of your own that I’d be a part of their lives. And here you are, already a mother, and I haven’t even met your husband yet.”
Thinking Reed would probably like spaghetti, Ann reached for a colander and stopped short. A grandmotherly woman was exactly what Betina needed for a baby-sitter. “Mom, how would you like to get better acquainted with both Reed and his daughter?”
“Why, I think that would be very nice, dear.”
“What about Dad? Would he throw a fit?”
After Ann explained what she wanted, and her mother accepted the job of full—time grandmother and part—time sitter, Eleanor Forrester said, “Let me handle your father, dear. After thirty—eight years of marriage, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. And I never should have let him keep us away from your wedding.”
They smiled conspiratorially and hugged again.
Later, as Ann drove up to the ranch, she pondered the stubborn look that had come into her mother’s eyes when she’d decided to challenge her husband’s authority. Ann had always assumed she’d taken after her father in terms of her personality—except for that one short fling with rebellion—though she didn’t resemble him physically. Nor did she look a great deal like her mother, except for the color of her eyes. But now she wondered if she’d actually inherited her sometimes bullheaded determination from the maternal side of the family.
She hadn’t told her mother how her father had manipulated the bank into calling in Reed’s loan, a totally unethical maneuver, in her mind. She saw no reason, for now, to add fodder to what was already likely to be a tense situation between her parents. And Reed really needed a baby-sitter. Her mother would be perfect.
AS SHE PULLED UP in front of the ranch house, she spotted Jason pushing a heavily loaded wheelbarrow from the barn down the hill toward a dumping area. Sweat dampened his hair and dirt streak his shirt. Arnold padded merrily along at his side, his loyalty at least momentarily focused on the boy.
In contrast to the youngster who was working so hard, Reed was leaning indolently against the post on the front porch. His Stetson was tipped to the back of his head, his smile satisfied.
She got out of the car and popped the trunk. “What’s going on?” she asked as she carried the Crock—Pot up the steps.
“That’s my new hired hand. Part—time. Whaddaya think?” He looked very pleased with himself.
“Hired?”
“Sure. He’s been busting his buns for five bucks an hour since he got here after school.”
“I thought you were going to mentor him, not encourage him to get a job.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing—mentoring. There’s no more impressive lesson I could teach him than putting him to work. Nothing like mucking out a few horse stalls and hauling the manure away to figure out an education’s a damn good idea.”
Ann felt a new wave of admiration for Reed, and an ache of love filled her chest. He had indeed “been there, done that” and had learned his lessons in the hard school of experience. If anyone could turn Jason around, it would be Reed.
“I’ve been thinking,” he went on in a pensive mood. “If I can figure out how to keep this place afloat, I need to get a couple more horses. That way Jason could help me move the stock, and someday I could teach Bets to ride.”
“Has anyone mentioned lately that you’re a good man, Reed Drummond?”
He cocked a questioning brow. “Not lately.”
“And a good daddy, too.” Unable to resist, she placed her hand on his arm. The heat of his skin seeped through the blue chambray fabric. “It’s too bad Jason wasn’t lucky enough to land a father like you.”
His lips twitched. “Right at the moment I think the kid would run hell—bent—for—leather if anybody suggested that idea.”
“Then that would be his loss.” Laughing, she squeezed his arm. “Where’s Bets, by the way?”
“Sleeping. She’s due to wake up pretty soon.” He covered Ann’s hand with his, idly smoothing his thumb over her polished thumbnail.
His gentle touch gave her a shiver of pleasure. “I think I’ve got our baby-sitting problem solved.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’d you get?”
“My mother.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” His expression hardened. “After your old man set up this bank foreclosure business, I don’t think I want any help from—”
“She’s eager to play grandma, and she certainly has enough free time to help out. I think it will be good for her. Besides, most women who do day care would rather sit at their own homes instead of coming here.”
“I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “How’s she going to feel about Bets after you and me split up?”
Pain replaced all the warm feelings that had filled Ann’s chest, and she could barely draw a breath as she withdrew her hand. “Why don’t we take this one step at a time? For now, Mom’s the best babysitter I can come up with.” Before he could see the hurt welling in her eyes, Ann carried the Crock—Pot into the house.
Reed straightened as the screen door closed behind him. He was being sucked into Ann’s world like a stray mustang that got trapped in quicksand. She was too easy to be around, too soft to hold and touch when he knew damn well it wouldn’t last. She’d suckered him into mentoring a scrawny kid, who was working so hard to prove himself his muscles would ache for a month. Now she’d gotten her mother involved in taking care of Bets.
Reed didn’t like it. He didn’t want to owe Ann or her family anything, particularly when her old man was trying to run him out of town.
All he’d wanted was to raise Bets like her mom had asked him to. For the rest of it, he just wanted to be left alone. Alone like he’d been all of his life. He was used to it.
“Hey, Mr. Drummond, I got that muck dumped.” Jason’s arms hung limply at his sides and he looked like he might topple over if a strong breeze came along. “What’s next?” He breathed heavily.
“Looks like it’s time for you to go on home.”
The kid nodded.
“You coming back tomorrow?”
“When you gonna pay me?”
“End of the week. If you stick it out.”
“I’ll be here,” he said grimly.
“Thought we might start putting new shingles on the barn roof tomorrow. Place leaks like a sieve when it rains.”
&nbs
p; “The roof?” His voice cracked as he shot a glance to the top of the sharply peaked structure.
“You scared of heights?”
He visibly swallowed. “Naw. Only sissies are afraid of stuff like that.”
“You’ll get over it.” He mussed the kid’s damp, sweaty hair. Yeah, Ann was right—the kid needed a decent father but Reed wasn’t about to volunteer for the job. His plate was already plenty full. “Get on home now, and don’t go too fast going down that hill. I don’t want to have to mop you up with a blotter ‘cause you couldn’t make one of those curves.”
Jason shrugged out of reach, just as Reed would have as a kid. Trust didn’t come easily to either one of them. Some lessons were hard to forget.
After the boy left, Reed checked that Fiero had been properly bedded down for the night. Then he turned off the light and stood outside, staring off over the hills toward the distant ocean. In spite of his troubles, the view soothed him. He’d save his land, his ranch—no matter the cost.
When he went inside, he found Ann fixing dinner. Her briefcase, which was overflowing with papers, was open on the kitchen table. He suddenly realized she’d been working all day, and given their wedding and erratic schedule the past couple of days, she was probably behind on her own work.
“Can I help fix dinner?” he offered as he washed up.
“I’ve just about got everything ready. Pork chops, barbecue beans and a salad. Hope that’s okay.”
“Sounds great.” Better than great, considering he usually fixed himself a sandwich for supper. “After dinner, I’ll clean up while you do your schoolwork, if you want.”
“Thanks.” Ann turned the meat in the skillet, and it sizzled, sending up a cloud of steam. Her stomach knotted on the thought of breaking the news to Reed that his loan was as good as paid off. Most men would be pleased to think their wife had enough assets to solve the problem. In Reed’s case, she doubted that would be his reaction.
The question then was whether she ought to spoil their dinner with the fight that was likely to come. Unfortunately, procrastination was not her way. Since he’d already reminded her once tonight that he was still planning for their divorce, she had little to lose.
“I stopped by the bank today,” she said casually as she set the salad on the table. “What kind of dressing do you like? I bought Italian and blue cheese.”
“What did you do at the bank?”
“I arranged to pay off the loan on your ranch.”
The room wouldn’t have gone any quieter if a sudden plague had struck the earth, silencing every living being. The chops continued to sizzle in the pan, the beans bubbled to a low simmer. Reed didn’t move.
“You what?” he asked. The tension in his voice was as taut as a guy wire strung between two mountain peaks.
“I have quite a bit of equity in my house. Or I had until I talked with the bank manager. I’ve arranged to take out a second mortgage and pay off your loan with the money.”
“No.”
“The proper response isn’t no, it’s thank you.” Still assuming a casual attitude, in spite of the turmoil she was feeling, Ann stirred the beans.
Reed’s hand closed around her arm, and he took the spoon away from her, turning her to face him. His features were drawn into a fierce expression, his eyes dark. “I don’t want you paying off the loan. I don’t want your interference in my life or your money. Is that clear?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Reed. You can’t lose the ranch. Where would you live? If my money can help, then—”
“If you pay off my loan, then you’ll own a part of the ranch. Our prenuptial agreement wouldn’t be worth the paper it’s written on.”
She yanked herself free of him. “So think of it as a loan. No interest. No due date. You won’t be able to get better terms than those. Write up the damn agreement, if you’re so pigheaded about it. I’ll sign whatever you want.”
“I don’t need your money. I’ve already talked with a developer. He’s interested in a hundred acres of view property.”
“You told me yesterday you need every bit of land you’ve got in order to make the ranch profitable. What happened overnight to change your mind?”
“Your father happened, all right? He’s calling in the loan. If I don’t sell off something—”
“You don’t have to sell anything. The loan is covered.”
“Why are you doing this? Why?”
“Because I’m your wife, damn it!” She jabbehim in the chest with her finger. “And because love you.”
She gasped. She hadn’t meant to blurt out the truth. It had been an idiotic thing to say. He wasn’t ready to hear how she felt. Not even close. And now he was gaping at her as if she’d grown a second head—or had lost her mind. Which was probably true.
She turned back to the stove. “Dinner’s ready.”
REED DIDN’T MAKE love to her that night.
Nothing could have hurt her more.
He didn’t acknowledge her confession of love and certainly didn’t profess any undying pledge to her. Over the next few days he withdrew into himself. They slept together but he didn’t hold her.
He didn’t love her.
Her body, her sensuality, reawakened after so many years of abstinence, cried out for his touch, his kisses. Her heart longed for what he had denied her—had denied them both.
It nearly drove Ann crazy. But it was what she’d agreed to—a marriage of his convenience. Though she might want to, she couldn’t change the rules now. And apparently she wasn’t as convenient as she had been before.
They’d been married one week to the day when the call came from the adoptions people. A social worker would visit that afternoon.
“I’ll hire a substitute for my afternoon classes,” Ann told Reed as she scurried around to get herself ready and Bets fed before her mother’s arrival.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. The social worker will expect me to be here.”
He didn’t seem happy about the idea.
“Reed, this is why you married me. We’re supposed to be a loving, married couple who want to adopt a baby.”
He didn’t acknowledge her comment. “You’ve got the letters of reference they wanted?”
“In the file folder on the coffee table. A school principal, the local bank manager and Dora, a successful businesswoman, whom I’ve known for years and who thinks we’ll both make wonderful parents. That ought to cover it.”
Grimly, he picked up his Stetson and placed it squarely on his head. “I’ll see you this afternoon, then.”
THE KINDEST DESCRIPTION of Clarisa Fipp would be plump. Making it from her car to the porch with a clipboard in hand had her breathing hard, and a sheen of perspiration dampened the social worker’s forehead as introductions were made.
“What a lovely view,” she said, pausing at the door to catch her breath.
“Every room in the house has a view,” Ann commented. “And of course, there’ll be plenty of room for Betina to play as she’s growing up.”
“Farms can be dangerous places for youngsters. All that heavy equipment and such.”
Ann decided that in spite of the woman’s pleasant smile, she was a born pessimist. “Come in, please. We’re still getting settled and acquiring furniture but you’ll see that the house is sound.”
Reed held the screen door open for the Clarisa. “Bets has got her own room and crib and everything.” He looked desperately uncomfortable, as though he were appealing his own death sentence before the supreme court instead of applying to adopt a baby. But for him, Ann suspected the stakes were just as high.
Ann gave him an encouraging smile, though the gamble she’d taken by marrying Reed and joining him in this scheme, carried a great deal of risk for her, too. Her stomach had been unsettled all day.
Clarisa gave the living room a cursory glance and then stuck her head into the kitchen. Fortunately Ann’s mother had left it spotless before she left at noon. Am
azingly, Reed and Eleanor Forrester had reached an uneasy accommodation with each other that at least allowed him some freedom to get his chores accomplished.
“Adequate,” the social worker decided, making a note on her clipboard. “I am surprised to find a Mrs. Drummond, however. There’s no notice of that on my form.”
“We just got married last week,” Reed stated. “I sent in the amendment to my application.”
“Well, then, it will turn up. You know how slow we bureaucrats can be.” She seemed not in the least contrite about the reputation of government workers. “Now let’s have a look at our little bundle of joy, shall we?”
“She’s my baby,” Reed muttered under his breath. “Not hers”
Ann silently shushed him. Now was not the time to talk back to a person in authority.
In a gesture of grandmotherly pride, Ann’s mother had decorated Betina’s room in a Little Bo—Peep decor, with a padded crib bumper, matching sheets and a cover plate for the light switch. A new mobile dangled above the bed—musical lambs.
“Oh, my, she does look healthy, doesn’t she,” Clarisa cooed. Reed visibly tensed as she stroked Betina’s soft cheek without waking the child.
As they returned to the living room, Ann talked with the social worker about Betina’s feeding and sleeping schedule, though Reed would have been better qualified to answer her questions. Fortunately she was able to respond intelligently and with far more patience than she imagined Reed could muster.
“I’ll be writing up my report when I get back to the office,” Clarisa concluded. “On the surface, I see no impediments to—”
Someone knocked on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Reed said.
Ann wondered who it could be. They didn’t get social callers, and Jason had been told not to come to work today. “You were saying, Ms. Fipp…”
Reed shoved open the screen to admit Johnny Fuentes, who was dressed in a dark blue police chief’s uniform. His expression was anything but pleased, however.
Ann got a seriously uncomfortable feeling. Though she’d known Johnny since high school, he wouldn’t be here unless there was a problem. Visions of her parents being in a car accident flooded her imagination.
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