“Eileen didn’t like to give me peanut butter,” Andy muttered. Her mother had insisted Andy call her by her first name so people wouldn’t realize she was a grandmother.
Debra leaned over to brush back a wisp of Andy’s hair. “I know, sweetie. That’s one good thing about living here. No Eileen.”
“Really?”
“Really, Andy. You get to stay home with me and your new sister, Betsy.”
He frowned. “But she’s a girl.”
She couldn’t stifle a laugh. “So am I, young man. You’ll grow to love Betsy. Her daddy says she’ll be up soon and then you’ll really get to meet her. You’ll see. It will be great.”
As Andy ate, Debra moved about the kitchen, locating equipment and ingredients, mentally inventorying the pantry, that was well organized. If John’s wife had done all this, she must have been a good cook.
In the monitor on the table Debra heard the sound of a baby stirring.
“Betsy’s awake,” she told Andy. “Wait here and I’ll go get her.”
When she entered the baby’s room, Betsy was standing in her bed, holding on to the rails, beginning to get unhappy. Debra crossed over to her and picked her up. “Hello, there, Betsy. I’m your new mommy. Let’s see. Ah, yes, you need a diaper change, don’t you?”
She laid the baby down in her crib and found a clean diaper in the holder at the end. “Your daddy has everything organized, doesn’t he? He must be a good daddy, Betsy.”
And that was the first thing she found to like about John Richey.
John rushed as he rubbed down his horse. “Sorry, Beauty, but I’m in a hurry,” he whispered.
“Did you say something, boss?” Mikey asked, peering around the dark horse John was working on.
“Uh, no, Mikey, nothing.” Mikey was young, but a hard worker.
“You sure the missus don’t mind us coming to the house for dinner tonight?” Jess, his other cowhand, asked.
John hurriedly looked away from Bill’s worried frown. “I’m sure. I told her we’d all four be there. But I don’t know what kind of cook she is, so blame Bill if it’s awful.” He figured even Jess wouldn’t have the nerve to question Bill. Both guys were just a little afraid of him.
“Can’t be worse than our cooking,” Jess grumbled.
“I’m sure Debra will have a good meal ready,” Bill said with bravado. “I mean, she used to be a cook. How bad can it be?”
“I’m hungry enough to eat a bear, so let’s just hurry,” Mikey said.
All four men walked to the house together. John was beginning to wish he hadn’t planned on all of them coming to the house to eat this evening. He was beginning to fear that the woman might have done nothing just to pay him back for his rudeness to her earlier. She could completely humiliate him.
Betsy.
He’d walked out on Betsy and left her with a stranger. That thought hadn’t struck him until just now.
How could he have done that? Betsy was the most important part of his life. And he’d trusted her to his new wife.
Speeding up, he reached the house before his men.
When he entered, he ignored the warm fire in the fireplace, the delicious aroma in the air, the place settings on the table. All he could think of was his child.
When Debra walked out of the kitchen, all he said was, “Where’s Betsy?”
CHAPTER TWO
“SHE’S already in bed. Is there a problem?”
Debra stared at John’s worried face. Had she done something wrong?
“I’ll go check on her,” he said.
She stepped in his way. “I thought maybe you’d all like to shower and change into clean clothes before dinner.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t we smell pretty enough for you?”
Her back stiffened, but her voice remained calm. “I was only thinking of your comfort.”
“Well, I might have clean clothes here, but the others don’t,” he snapped.
She already knew the answer to her question, but she let her eyes widen with innocence. “You mean all the laundry I did today was yours?”
He started to speak but promptly shut his mouth and stared at her. Finally he said, “You did all the laundry today?”
“Yes.” She walked into the mudroom where she heard the other cowboys and her uncle. She told the men, “I divided the clothes into stacks by size, since I didn’t know what belonged to each of you.” She gestured toward the shower stall. “I thought you might be more comfortable if you showered and dressed in clean clothes that you could put on again in the morning and work in. Does that seem like a good idea to you?” Without awaiting their answer, she continued. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll put dinner on the table.”
The men all nodded and immediately grabbed their clean clothes. Debra delicately withdrew and pulled the door behind her. Only John was on this side of the door.
He stood there against the wall, his arms crossed over his wide chest, his blue eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Very clever of you, getting them on your side.”
Swallowing a retort, she turned her back on him and walked into the kitchen.
Once there, she drew a deep breath. She’d worked hard all day, but it was work she loved. The best part was that she’d had Andy and Betsy for company. The entire day had been so much better than her life in Kansas that she’d decided the thing to do was to make the best of the situation and see where it led.
But John apparently wasn’t going to make it easy.
She began putting the meal on the table. The center piece was a giant roast beef she’d cooked until tender, flanked by bowls of gravy, homemade biscuits, whipped potatoes, broccoli and red beans.
Just as everything was in place, the door to the mudroom opened and four men emerged. She moved to the kitchen door and extended her hand to the two men she hadn’t formally met. They were both young, in their early twenties, but they looked strong. “Hello, I’m Debra. Welcome to my kitchen,” she said with a smile.
The men introduced themselves, but she could tell they were distracted by the large amounts of food ready for them. All she did was nod in the direction of the table and the four men took their seats and dug in, no doubt ravenous after their workday.
“Man, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten, Miz Richey.”
“Thank you, Mikey, but please, call me Debra.”
“I’ll call you anything you want for a meal like this,” the cowboy returned.
“Debra will be fine, Mikey,” she said through a smile.
“Thank you for the clean clothes, too,” Jess added between bites.
“My pleasure. If you’re in the saddle all day, I don’t see how you’ve managed to get anything else done. I’d be exhausted.”
“True,” Jess said as he buttered a biscuit. “And we’re mighty grateful to you.”
Those two were completely won over, Debra thought. Unfortunately, her husband wasn’t. She noted that John’s face was growing stormier every moment. He obviously hadn’t counted on her doing her job. He’d immediately gone up to check on Betsy before his shower. Did he think she hadn’t taken care of her? Who could resist such a sweet baby?
When the men had finished, Debra asked if they’d like a roast beef sandwich to take with them in the morning, since they didn’t come in for lunch. She immediately got a pleased reception to her idea.
John, however, said, “Maybe you don’t realize that you have to have breakfast ready at six.”
“I assumed you started to work early, John,” she said calmly.
“My idea of ‘early’ isn’t nine o’clock.”
She ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “For the last three years I’ve been getting up at four-thirty for work, so six o’clock will be sleeping in for me.” Take that, cowboy! She punctuated her reply with a verbal punch but kept it to herself. This man certainly had a lot to learn if he thought she’d run screaming from hard work.
John was quiet as she cleared the table and put a homemade choco
late cake in the middle. “Would anyone care for dessert?” she asked, her voice as sweet as the frosting.
Not even John said no. He didn’t, however, join the men in their rousing praise for her good cooking.
When she began the cleanup, the men actually brought their dishes to the sink, a courtesy she hadn’t expected. She warmly thanked them and suggested they go to the family room and relax.
With the dishwasher, the cleanup only took a few minutes. She swept the floor and wiped down the counters, then performed a visual check to be sure the kitchen was immaculate before she went to the mudroom to launder their dirty clothes.
As she was loading the washing machine, she felt someone staring at her. Spinning around, she found John at the door.
“You don’t have to do that tonight. You’ve already worked hard enough.” He glanced away from her as he spoke.
“Actually, the machine does all the work…unless the noise will bother you.”
“No, but—” He kept his head down, as if the toes of his boots were worthy of intense study. “Listen, I was rude this morning. You did all the work anyway. I owe you an apology.”
So there was a human under all that bluster, she thought, barely suppressing a smile. Maybe Uncle Bill was right and John just needed some time to get used to the idea of marriage again. And, she had to admit, it felt good to be appreciated for what she’d done. No one had ever made her feel that way, especially her mother.
“I think Uncle Bill may have misled both of us,” she said. “But now you know I’m a hard worker, and I appreciate the benefits.”
Something she’d said upset him, she realized at once. His head shot up and his back stiffened. Before she could inquire, he turned back on those boot heels and walked away.
Debra stood there, laundry in hand. What had she said to chase away the new and improved John Richey? Whatever it was, it had cost her an opportunity to make peace with her new husband, and she regretted it. When, she wondered, would she get another chance?
John appreciated the well-cooked meal and the clean clothes, but that didn’t reconcile him to his second marriage. Especially since his new wife was counting on reaping the “benefits.” So she thought she could get a lot of nice things out of him like Elizabeth had? Well, she thought wrong.
Betsy seemed at peace, too. She was clean and sweet-smelling and sound asleep. Still, she’d wake up at four in the morning, as usual, and he’d feed her the 4:00 a.m. bottle, as usual. He loved feeling that warm little body in his arms, loved knowing she was totally dependent on him. It was Betsy who had pulled him out of his bout of bitterness and hate for Elizabeth.
It would always be Betsy who kept him on the straight and narrow, working to make his ranch successful. She deserved the best.
If they had a good crop of bull calves this season, he could escape some of the crippling debt Elizabeth had saddled him with. He’d been so in love with her he’d provided more than he should have, more than he could afford. But he’d wanted to make Elizabeth happy.
In return, she’d made him miserable and deeply in debt.
As he stared at the television in the family room with the others, he gritted his teeth. He was never going to let a woman do that to him again.
“John?”
His head snapped up. Debra was standing at the end of the couch, staring at him. “What?”
“May I speak to you for a moment?”
With the others, especially Bill, around him, he had no choice but to acquiesce.
Following Debra into the kitchen—a completely clean kitchen, he realized—he prepared himself for her demands. “What do you want?”
“I need a few things from the grocery store. Is there a car I can borrow, and do you have an account at the store or will you give me money?”
“I should’ve known. The kitchen is full of food! You haven’t been here twenty-four hours and already you’re demanding money!”
He expected her to try flirting to get her way, followed by crying. That was the pattern his first wife had used many times.
Instead, after staring at him for several seconds, she simply left the room.
After a moment, he followed her, sure she was going to plead her case with her uncle.
But when he entered the family room, there was no sign of her. “Did Debra come through here?” he asked.
Bill looked up in surprise. “She said good-night and went upstairs.”
John was stunned. Why hadn’t she pressed him? Come to think of it, Elizabeth had never asked for groceries. Her requests had always been personal. Was the kitchen missing some key ingredient Debra needed?
After pacing the room for several minutes, ignored by his men, he decided to go upstairs and find her. That was probably her plan, anyway.
The hallway was dark, but he saw a light shining under one door. That must be the bedroom she’d chosen for her own. He rapped on the door.
A soft voice answered, “Who is it?”
“It’s John.”
After a hesitation that irritated him, she opened the door about an inch. “I’m getting ready for bed, John. What do you want?”
“What did you want at the grocery store?”
She sighed. “I wanted to get some baby cereal and some chocolate chips for making cookies.”
“Baby cereal? Why do you want baby cereal?”
“I’m guessing Betsy is at least nine months old. She should be eating cereal in the morning and adding solid foods during her meals. It will mean she’ll sleep through the night.”
“She will? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Haven’t you taken her to the doctor for her checkups?”
“She went while Elizabeth—She went early on, but I didn’t see any need. She’s healthy!”
“Yes, I know. But he would’ve advised you about her feedings, if you had.”
“So you mean baby food? Those little bottles?”
“Well, I can make a few things. I wasn’t going to ask for too much at once. I wanted the chocolate chips to make cookies for Andy and to put in your lunches.”
John put up his hand to stop her. “The car’s in the garage. The key is on one of the hooks by the door. Sign the receipt at the general store and Charlie will put it on my account.” He turned away and walked down the hall to the stairs.
So she really wanted groceries…. She was probably starting out slowly, hoping to lull him into acceptance, said a warning voice inside his head. Not Elizabeth’s style, but you couldn’t trust a woman. Any woman.
No one was late for breakfast the next morning. Maybe they were encouraged by visions of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and hot biscuits with jam that she’d found in the pantry, along with hot coffee.
Debra had gotten up at five-fifteen so she’d been able to make their lunches, too. The bags were all ready, sitting on the kitchen cabinet for them when they finished their breakfast. Of course, since March in Wyoming was cold, their lunches wouldn’t be warm, but they would be filling. She was proud of the food she’d provided. She couldn’t imagine going all day, working as hard as these men did, without lunch.
“This is great, Debra,” Bill said with a big smile. “Especially the hot biscuits.”
“I’m glad you like everything, Uncle Bill.”
Jess and Mikey paused, then Mikey asked, “He really is your uncle?”
“Yes, of course,” Debra replied while her uncle protested. “Why wouldn’t you believe that I’m Bill’s niece?”
“Well,” Jess said with a wink, “’cause you’re lots prettier than him and you cook tons better.”
Everyone but John laughed.
“Thank you for the compliments, but everyone has talents in different areas. Otherwise, life would be very dull.”
As they filed out of the kitchen, Debra handed each of them his lunch. John was the last to leave and he didn’t even pause. “No, thank you.”
“You might as well take it since I’ve already made it for you.” She held out the bag.<
br />
He glowered and hesitated. She held her breath, hoping he’d take it. Somehow it seemed important to her, as if his taking the lunch would be an act of approval.
“I don’t have time for lunch,” he muttered, and walked out of the house.
Debra stood there, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t expected her new life to be easy, had she? Of course not. The best thing she could do was her job. Keep the house clean, cook and take care of Betsy, as well as Andy.
And not expect anything else. Especially not a husband.
She put the load of clothes in the dryer and then went upstairs to wake Andy. “Honey, it’s time to get up and come eat breakfast.”
“I want to stay in bed,” Andy protested. “Eileen let me stay in bed as long as I wanted.”
Which explained why she’d always had trouble getting him to bed in the evenings, she thought. She’d always assumed her son required less sleep. But, as usual, her mother had chosen the easiest path.
“There’s no Eileen here, my dear. I’ll put your clothes out while you go wash your face. Get dressed and come to the kitchen. I’ll have breakfast ready.”
She gently propelled her son into the bathroom. After she laid out his clothes, she went into Betsy’s room. The baby was just stirring, stretching and yawning.
“Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well? First, I’ll change your diaper, then we’ll have breakfast. After that, you get a bath. If you’re not too modest, I’ll let Andy help. Then we’ll go grocery shopping. How does that sound?”
As if she approved, Betsy smiled at her. Her whole face lit up and her eyes gleamed. She had the same eyes as her father, sea-blue, only his never sparkled in a smile.
Debra shrugged her shoulders and changed Betsy’s diaper. Time to get things done, not think about John.
“How was Betsy this morning?” Bill asked John as they rode out a short time later.
John jerked back on his reins, startling his horse. Staring at Bill, he frantically searched his brain. “She—she didn’t wake me up! Damn, she’s probably sick or something. I’ve got to go back. I’ll catch up with you!” he called over his shoulder as he urged his horse back toward the barn. All the way, he was telling himself he was the worst daddy in the world to leave his child without being sure she was all right.
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