Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32)

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Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32) Page 6

by Stella Bagwell


  Mariah had none of those things. Maybe his father could be indifferent to her plight, but Finn couldn’t. His feelings had already gotten mixed up with hers. And he didn’t have a clue as to how to untangle them. Or whether he even wanted to.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Don’t thank me. Just get yourself home—where you belong.”

  “I’ll keep you abreast of things.”

  Finn ended the connection and jammed the phone back into its leather holder. That was the first time in his adult life that he’d ended a conversation with his father on a tense note, and the realization bothered him. But as much as he loved and respected his father, it was time that Finn stood alone as his own man.

  And whether the decisions he made about Harry and Mariah turned out to be right or wrong, or made with his head or his heart, they had to be Finn’s own decisions.

  Chapter Four

  The conversation with his father was still buzzing in his head as Finn walked over to a tall board corral. Inside the enclosure, a group of mares stood dozing beneath a pair of aspen trees. The only mustangs that had ever run over Horn range were the wild ones that just happened to stray onto the ranch’s property. When that occurred, the ranch hands were promptly sent out to round up the wild horses and haul them back to their allotted rangeland. But if Finn had his own land, he could put as many mustangs on it as he wanted. He could breed and train them without any interference from his family.

  Up until now, he’d only dreamed of finding a piece of land in the Carson City area that possessed sustainable grazing and water supply. But now that Harry had come into his life, the idea of becoming more independent had not only germinated; it was rapidly growing.

  “I was beginning to think you’d gotten kicked in the head or something. You’ve been out here for a long time.”

  Mariah’s voice had Finn turning to see her walking toward him with Harry riding happily in the crook of her arm. A billed cap was on the baby’s head to shield his eyes from the late evening sun, while Mariah’s red boots had been replaced by a pair of brown ones that were scuffed and scarred with wear.

  “Sorry I worried you,” he said. “I’ve been taking my time looking things over.” He didn’t add that he’d been talking to his father. Sharing the gist of their conversation would only upset her.

  When she joined him at the fence, Finn immediately reached for Harry and positioned the boy against his shoulder. Soft baby scents instantly drifted to his nostrils, and the bright, eager gaze in the boy’s blue eyes touched something deep inside him. Harry would grow to be a man of the land. Somehow Finn was certain of that. Just as certain as he knew that having a son was going to change the direction of his own life.

  Mariah said, “Before Dad died, horses were everywhere. The barns were always freshly painted, the fences erect. Hay and grain would be stacked to the ceiling and there were plenty of ranch hands to deal with the chores. Now it’s a ghostly place.”

  The pensive note he heard in her voice told Finn she wasn’t quite as indifferent to her longtime home as she’d first led him to believe.

  “It would thrive again,” he told her. “In the right hands.”

  Her sigh was so faint it was barely discernible to his ears. “Maybe the next person can make it successful again. But if I had all the money in the world I wouldn’t sink it back into this place.”

  If one of his brothers spoke in such a negative way about the Silver Horn, Finn would be livid. Passing down the land and legacy was important to every Calhoun family member. If necessary, each one of them would fight with his dying breath to save what their forefathers had worked so hard to build. It was hard to understand Mariah’s lack of fight to save her home.

  He studied her profile. “I can’t decide if you love this place or hate it.”

  “I don’t hate the ranch or the horses. I guess my feelings are mixed,” she admitted.

  “Considering all that’s happened, I’d probably be feeling mixed up, too.”

  Her head turned toward him and Finn watched the warm wind play with the baby-fine tendrils at her hairline. The black curls were a vivid contrast against her creamy skin, and for a moment Finn wondered how her skin would taste. How would she react if he placed his lips against her temple?

  As the erotic questions swirled through his head, Harry’s squirms reminded Finn where that sort of thinking had gotten him. The last thing he needed right now was to let his libido lead him down a reckless path with this woman.

  “Forgive me if I sound like a bitter, ungrateful person,” she said. “I’m not really. It’s just that—well, I lost Dad, then Aimee. Then all of a sudden it was just me and little Harry. And everything around me seems to be slipping away.”

  Finn wanted to reach over and lay a steadying hand on her shoulder. He longed to see her smile and hear her promise she was going to be happy again no matter where her plans took her. But the past seemed to be overwhelming her.

  “I’m going to be frank, Mariah. I’m not sure that getting rid of your home is the right answer for you.”

  Turning her back to him, she rested her forearms on one of the lower rails of the board fence and stared out at the broodmares. There was no grass in the paddock; only a few spindly weeds dotted the dusty ground. Obviously, the mares were getting fed daily, but it wasn’t the sort of nutrition they needed to produce sturdy foals. Now was hardly the time for him to point that out to Mariah, though.

  No time would be right for that, Finn. This isn’t your place, your horses or your woman. Someone else will have to deal with Mariah’s problems. Not you.

  The sound of her voice suddenly drowned out the one going on in his head.

  “Aimee used to talk about Harry growing up and taking over the reins of Stallion Canyon. But if it turns out that he—well, goes with you to Nevada, then this place won’t matter. You’ll have plenty to pass on to him.”

  So that was it, Finn thought. Losing Harry was taking away her purpose, her drive to fight for her home.

  He gazed down at the baby, who was happily taking in the sights and sounds of the outdoors. Even though he’d only met his son a few hours ago, plans for his future were already building in Finn and taking hold of his heart. How would he feel if the DNA said Harry belonged to some other man? All his dreams would suddenly be snatched away. The way he was going to snatch them away from Mariah if he left with Harry.

  Stop being so damned softhearted, Finn. You’re the one who’s been wronged. If Harry truly is your son, then you’ve missed seeing him born and lost the first four months of his life. All because this woman and her sister didn’t see fit to tell you a baby was coming.

  Mentally shaking away the pestering thoughts, he said to Mariah, “Harry will ultimately inherit my share of the Silver Horn. But right now my main objective is to give him a home.”

  As soon as the remark passed his lips, her head jerked around and she stabbed him with a resentful stare. “Excuse me, but Harry hasn’t exactly been homeless.”

  Seeing he was going to have to be more careful with his words, Finn said, “Sorry. That didn’t come out exactly right. I meant a home with me.”

  “That depends on the DNA test.” She turned and motioned toward a connecting barn. “It’s time to do the evening feeding. If you’d be kind enough to see after Harry, I’ll get to work.”

  She started walking toward the end of the big white barn and Finn automatically fell into step beside her. “I’d be glad to watch Harry. But I’m curious. What do you normally do with the baby while you tend to your outside chores? Doesn’t anyone come around to help you with him?”

  “A nanny keeps him during the weekdays while I’m at school. But she leaves in the evenings before feeding time. When he was smaller I put him in his stroller and parked it in a safe spot where I could keep an eye on him. But now that he’s grown enough to sit in a propped position, I put him in a little wagon with side boards. He enjoys that even more than the stroller. Especially when I pull him along be
hind me. Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  Inside a large, dusty feed room filled with sacks and barrels of mixed grain, rubber buckets, galvanized tubs, and scoops, Mariah pulled out a red wagon with wooden side boards. The inside was lined and padded with a thick blanket.

  “I made a seat belt for him with the straps from a child’s old car seat. And I use this baby pillow to prop in front of him for extra support. It works great,” she told Finn. “I don’t have to worry about him toppling over or trying to pull himself out. Just sit him here and I’ll show you how to buckle him up.”

  *

  He placed Harry at the back end of the wagon and Mariah clipped the safety straps across the boy’s chest. All the while, she was incredibly aware of Finn standing next to her.

  These past few hours, her emotions had been on a violent roller coaster. The lonely woman in her was relishing every moment of his rugged presence. But part of her was weeping at the thought of his taking her baby away. Her only hope of hanging on to Harry was to have Finn’s DNA be a mismatch. But would that really solve anything? Harry deserved a father. She’d have to keep searching, and the next man might not be daddy material at all.

  “Very ingenious,” he said with a grin. “You ought to put these things on the market.”

  Straightening to her full height, she tried her best to smile. “I’d rather just keep the little invention to myself.”

  She hurriedly moved away and began scooping grain into one of the heavy rubber buckets. One, two, three. She continued counting until she reached six, then started on another bucket.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Finn watching her. What was he thinking? Earlier this afternoon, there’d been odd moments when she’d thought she’d seen masculine appreciation in his eyes, maybe even a hint of attraction. But that could’ve been her imagination working overtime. After all, it had been so long since she’d had a man look at her in a sexual way that she wasn’t sure she would recognize the signs.

  “Can I help you measure the feed?” he asked.

  “No thanks. I can handle this. Just take Harry on outside so he won’t breath in the grain dust.”

  For a moment she thought he was going to protest, but after a shrug of one shoulder, he grabbed the wagon tongue and pulled Harry out of the feed room. Once he was out of sight, Mariah bent her head and drew in a long, bracing breath. She had to collect herself. The man was going to be around for several more days. She couldn’t fall apart every time he came near her.

  By the time she carried the feed buckets out of the barn, she noticed Finn had parked the wagon beneath a canyon mahogany so that Harry would be shaded. As soon as he spotted her at the gate to the mares’ paddock, he left the baby to join her.

  “Harry is perfectly content, so let me help you with one of those,” he said, while reaching for one of the buckets.

  “Thanks,” she told him. “Just pour it into one of those long troughs. I’ll fill the other one.”

  Once the mares were lined up at the trough, the two of them made their way out of the small paddock.

  “I hope you’re giving the mares adequate hay. Carrying babies, they especially need the nutrition.”

  Mariah would be the first to admit she didn’t know a whole lot about horse care. Not when she compared her equine knowledge to Aimee and her father. Still, it irked her to have this man telling her what she needed to be doing with her own animals.

  “I do,” she answered. “But I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it up. Hay is expensive. If I don’t sell the horses soon I may have to turn them out on the range and let them scavenge for whatever grazing they can find.”

  He stopped in his tracks and stared at her in disbelief.

  “Mariah, no! All five of those mares are near foaling. They need to be monitored closely. If they have trouble—”

  “Look, Finn, I realize you mean well. But I can’t afford the best hay or grain. I can’t even afford a vet. If the mares have trouble foaling the most I can do is call on Ringo to help. Together we’ll try our best to get the foals delivered safely.”

  “Is he a vet?”

  Her short laugh was like a mocking snort. “He’s a mechanic by trade. He kept Dad’s tractors and trucks running. All he knows is to pour out feed, toss hay and make sure the water troughs are full. But he’ll do whatever he can to help.”

  He sighed and stroked his fingers against his jawline as though she’d just thrown him a heavy problem, one that he had no idea how to deal with. Mariah could’ve told him that she’d been feeling that same heavy burden for months now.

  Frowning, she asked, “What’s wrong? None of this is your problem. So you needn’t concern yourself.”

  “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding—”

  “You are intruding,” she interrupted.

  “But I’m concerned about the mares.”

  For as long as Mariah could remember, it had always been horses first in the Montgomery family. Many times she’d longed to have her father’s undivided attention, even for only one day. Now she was seeing the very same thing with this man.

  “So am I. But I’m doing the best I can.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Harry was safe before she continued walking.

  Three long strides and he was back at her side. “I’m only trying to help, Mariah.”

  She heaved out a heavy breath. “Then find me a buyer. Quick.”

  “For the horses? Or the ranch?” he questioned.

  “Both.”

  “Tell me, Mariah, what if someone came along right this minute and bought you out?” he asked. “Do you have a plan?”

  Did he really care or was he just being nosy? she wondered.

  “My plan is to be happy,” she said. “No matter where I go. Or what I do.”

  His lips took on a sardonic twist. “Really? I’m not sure you know how.”

  *

  Later that evening, Mariah cooked a quick meal of salad and spaghetti. Afterward, Finn helped her clean the kitchen and then excused himself to his bedroom to make a phone call.

  While Finn was occupied, Mariah gave Harry a bath, then carried him to the nursery where she dressed him in blue pajamas printed with cats and dogs.

  “Okay, little guy. Let Mommy brush your red curls and then you’ll be all ready for a visit from the sandman.” While she hummed a lullaby beneath her breath, she pushed the baby brush through Harry’s fine hair until a red curly strip stood up in the middle of his head. “Wow! What a handsome guy you are now!”

  Harry cooed and gave her a toothless grin. Laughing at his precious face, Mariah bent her head and pressed kisses to his fat cheeks, which in turn made the baby giggle loudly.

  Behind them, Finn knocked lightly on the door facing. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

  He’d interrupted everything, Mariah thought. Especially her peace of mind. For weeks now, she’d been convinced that selling the ranch and starting a new life elsewhere was exactly what she needed and wanted. Now, he had her questioning her own feelings and wondering if she was about to make a giant mistake.

  “No. I’m only getting Harry ready for bed. He usually falls asleep around this time in the evenings. Was there something you needed? If your room isn’t comfortable, there’s another guest room just down the hall.”

  “As long as I have a place to lay my head, I’m happy,” he told her. “This time of the year I spend most nights sleeping on a cot in the foaling barn, anyway. Thankfully, most of the Horn mares have already delivered, and breeding next year’s foals has started.”

  “Sounds like you have lots of babies coming at once. You must be a busy man in the spring.”

  “It’s hectic. One of these mornings I expect to look in the bathroom mirror and see that my hair has turned white. But I love this time of year. New babies—new beginnings. It’s exciting.”

  He walked over to where she had Harry lying atop the small dressing table, and as he stood beside her, she was suddenly remembering the f
ew moments she’d stood with her cheek pressed to his chest. His arms had felt so warm and strong, and the scent of him had filled her senses with erotic thoughts. Just thinking of it now warmed her cheeks and left her feeling horribly foolish. If she’d been the one he’d made love to, if she’d been the one who’d borne his child, things would be so different now, she thought. Because she couldn’t imagine loving this man only once. Unlike Aimee, she would’ve done everything in her power to keep him in her life.

  He said, “Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you. Whenever you have a free moment.”

  She glanced over to see he’d removed his long-sleeved shirt and replaced it with a gray T-shirt. The cotton jersey fabric clung to his broad chest and revealed a pair of heavily muscled arms. The sight rattled her senses so much that she swiftly jerked her gaze back to the safety of Harry’s sweet face.

  “Uh—let’s go to the back porch,” she suggested. “It’s cooled off nicely and there’s a playpen back there for Harry.”

  “Sounds good.”

  With Finn carrying the baby, they walked through the house and onto the back porch. The long planked floor stretched the full length of the back of the house and was protected from the weather by a tin roof. At one end several pieces of wicker lawn furniture were grouped together. Behind the chairs, next to the wall of the house, was a small playpen equipped with blankets and a small pillow.

  “I’ll just hold Harry for a while,” he said.

  He eased his long frame into one of the chairs and Mariah took the seat opposite from him. As she watched him settle Harry in a comfortable position against his chest, she couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was with the baby. It was a reassuring sight. If Finn truly was Harry’s father, he’d be a loving one, at least.

  “You have a beautiful view out here with the pine trees and the mountains in the distance. How many acres does Stallion Canyon cover?”

 

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