The Bull Rider's Baby

by Brenda Minton

  His grandma used to sit in a flowery chair in front of the window and fan herself with a magazine. He smiled, remembering images that hadn’t been this clear in years. This house. This land. It had been a part of him. This house and the one down the road where he’d grown up. That house now belonged to a family named Matthews.

  He’d driven past today and saw that there were bikes in the front yard, a basketball hoop and horses in the corral.

  At twenty he’d helped his parents pack it all up and move to Tulsa. They hadn’t been able to move on after losing Kade. They’d tried to get back to what had been their lives, and it hadn’t happened. There’d been too much guilt, too many accusations and way too much pain.

  He shook his head as he walked through the empty rooms. Paneled walls. Hardwood floors that sagged in places. It was livable but it needed a lot of work. And that mangy cat had slipped back inside. The thing yowled at him, wanting food. He opened a can of tuna and sat it on the floor.

  “Don’t get too comfortable in here, Mangy.”

  The cat yowled again. And then the baby cried. Keeton tossed his hat on the counter and walked down the hall to the bedroom. Lucy stopped crying when she saw him. He smiled at that.

  He’d had her for two days. He’d known about her for two days. When he thought about how unfair that was, it made him madder than anything. Becka had kept him from the best thing in his life. He didn’t really know what to do with a baby. But she definitely took the title for best thing ever.

  The big question at the moment was how to be a bull rider and a single dad. That even put getting his land back from Sophie on hold, or made it less important somehow. He picked up his baby girl and held her close. She smelled a lot better.

  “You smell good, little girl. I was afraid that other smell was permanent.”

  She smiled a soft baby smile and he held her easy in one arm while he reached for the bottle and the soft blanket. She felt warm again. He’d bought a book on babies and had read warnings about high fevers, but also about not rushing to the doctor for every virus. So how did he know what to do with that advice?

  “What in the world are we going to do about this fever?”

  She cooed and he knew at that moment that no one had better ever hurt his little girl. They’d have to deal with him.

  He was a dad. A single dad in a house without furniture. A single dad without a significant other to give him a helping hand. He’d faced some pretty mean bulls over the years, but he’d never faced anything that frightened him as much as the prospect of raising one tiny little girl.

  The thought spun around in his mind. He was now responsible for another person’s future. A little person, yeah, but she wouldn’t always be little.

  Someday she’d be a teenager. She’d have boyfriends. He’d have to hurt them.

  “Baby, you are never, ever going to date.”

  She cooed again and smiled a little. Yeah, in fifteen years she wouldn’t be smiling at him like that. With that thought in his mind he started packing the diaper bag to take Lucy to Sophie.

  * * *

  Sophie crumpled the note she’d found on her door when she got back from Keeton’s. But on second thought she smoothed it out and dropped it on the kitchen counter. Because, what if something happened?

  A note warning her that she shouldn’t build a subdivision on farmland might be of interest to the police. If something should happen. If. But it probably meant nothing. She couldn’t think of a reason why her subdivision would upset anyone.

  The only person slightly bothered by it would be Keeton, and only because the land had once belonged to his family.

  Sophie opened a cabinet door and reached for her staple—peanut butter. She spread it on a slice of bread, then covered that with a layer of blackberry jam.

  The perfect food.

  She carried the one slice of bread with toppings to the kitchen table and sat down, putting her feet up on the chair next to the one she sat on. Her home. Her life. No one to tell her to sit up straight, pull her hair back, eat healthy.

  If she wanted to, she could listen to loud music all night. She could leave every light in the house on. She could wear her pajamas all day. Bonus, her sister Heather wasn’t lurking, waiting to straighten pillows or make the bed. Although she did stop in from time to time with a new picture for the wall.

  Being an adult meant no more sharing. No more brothers and sisters poking around in her life. No man cluttering things up.

  No more quiet secrets at night after everyone went to bed. Yes, she did miss that part. She missed that Heather had always been there for her. She missed Mia’s silly stories.

  But she loved peace and quiet. Her own space.

  The picture on the table next to her mocked her with its silliness. Her new sister-in-law Madeline had given her the photograph in a silver frame, a thank-you for helping with Madeline and Jackson’s wedding. A picture of Sophie fumbling as the bouquet Madeline tossed practically fell into her arms. She pushed the picture facedown and snarled at it.

  As she finished off the last bite of sandwich she heard tires crunching on gravel and the low hum of an engine. She leaned to peek out the front screen door, saw that it was Keeton and relaxed. But then she panicked. She looked down at the sweatpants she’d cut off at the knees and the crazy tie-dyed T-shirt she’d changed into when she got home.

  She jumped and ran down the hall, a surge of panic shooting adrenaline through her veins. She would not get caught like this.

  Before she could put her plate in the sink and make it through the living room to the stairs that led to her bedroom, Keeton stood at the front door. He grinned through the screen door and wiggled two fingers. In his other arm he held the precious bundle that was his daughter.

  Two reactions. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to stop and stare at the man on her front porch. She had to act quickly.

  “Come in, I’m going to change.”

  He stepped in before she could run. “Why?”

  But he smirked a cute little grin and gave her the once-over. She should point out that he needed to shave and his worn-out jeans were in need of replacing. She walked away from him, knowing he’d follow.

  “What’s going on?”

  Coffee. She needed a cup of coffee. She walked down the hall to the kitchen. Keeton’s boots clunked on the wood floor. If she gave herself a few minutes she could face him and not be at loose ends. She didn’t do this, this chaotic dance around men—insecure, uncertain. Sophie Cooper knew how to be confident.

  She reached for the coffeepot, saw the note on the counter. Before he could reach her she grabbed it and slipped it in her pocket.

  “Do you want coffee?”

  Keeton held Lucy out to her. “Yeah, I want coffee. I’ll make it because I also don’t want to pick up glass from the broken coffeepot when you drop it. What’s up with you?”

  Keeton. A crazy note on her front door. She didn’t know where to start. She didn’t want to start.

  Rather than answering, she took Lucy and sat down at the butcher-block table in the center of the kitchen. Lucy, soft and smelling of lavender and chamomile, cooed. She still felt warm.

  “I’m worried about this baby.”

  Keeton looked back at them, and then poured water into the coffeepot. “I gave her the medicine. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Maybe urgent care.”

  “Yeah, I think I might need to do that. Let’s stop beating around the bush. Why don’t you tell me about that piece of paper you slipped in your pocket when you thought I wasn’t looking?”

  “Paper?” Heat warmed her neck and then her cheeks.

  “You’re a horrible liar.”

  “I know.” She leaned her forehead against Lucy’s. “Sweet baby,
you need to get over this virus.”

  “Note.”

  “Baby trumps note. We need to take her to the doctor.”

  “We?” He leaned against the counter, his elbows behind him resting on the counter top. He wasn’t particularly tall. Most bull riders weren’t. He appeared tall. Maybe that unbelievable self-confidence the West men oozed. She sighed. Kade had had it, too.

  She wondered what kind of man he’d have been if he’d lived. Would they have gotten married? Or would they have grown up in a few years and realized it was just a crush?

  “Soph? About the note? And then we’ll talk about Lucy and the doctor.”

  “The note warned me to stop building a subdivision on farmland.”

  “I didn’t write it.”

  “I know you didn’t.” She looked up, making strong eye contact with him. “I know you didn’t.”

  “Good. But we have to find out who did. I want to know that you’re safe here.”

  “I’m safe. I’m a Cooper. I can fight with the best of them. And shoot a gun.”

  He grinned and shook his head. Without asking, he pulled cups out of the cabinet and started pouring coffee. “Sugar?”

  “Nope.”

  “Black coffee.” He glanced back again. “And you have peanut butter on your chin.”

  She rubbed fast, and then wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I don’t.”

  “You have so many surprising little habits, Sophie.” He carried two cups of coffee and sat down across from her. “I figured if it’s a virus she’ll run a fever for a couple of days and be over it. Right? Antibiotics won’t cure a virus.”

  “I suppose. But she’s so little, I worry about her fever getting too high.”

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on that. So far it’s stayed under 102.”

  “I’d make her an appointment tomorrow, then. If she isn’t better.”

  “Thanks, Soph. So will you still watch her for me tonight while I go ride bulls in Dawson?”

  That’s why he was there. She’d somehow managed to forget. She snuggled the baby and thought about rocking her to sleep, the two of them dozing on the sofa together. Keeton’s baby, not hers. She felt a little alone for a moment, even with the two of them right there with her. Because they weren’t hers.

  “I’ll watch her.”

  “I have a can of formula and extra diapers in the diaper bag.”

  “Okay.” She stood when he stood. “Be careful tonight.”

  He plucked at a strand of her hair and nodded once. “I will. I always am. Soph, it hardly ever happens that way—the way it did…”

  “I know.” And she didn’t usually cry. But her eyes burned and if he didn’t leave, she would.

  He didn’t leave. Instead he leaned and sweetly kissed her. She closed her eyes and for a moment she needed this, needed him. She resurfaced when memories of another moment in his arms pushed their way into her mind.

  Before she could make sense of it all, he stepped back. One simple kiss and he undid all of her carefully groomed self-control. She couldn’t allow that.

  She gathered herself, her wits, and stood a little straighter.

  “Keeton, don’t.”

  He tipped his hat. “I know.”

  “We can’t.”

  “I know.” His smile didn’t beam this time, instead it looked a little sad, a little sorry. And so was she. “I know.”

  He walked down the hall back to the front door. She followed him. “Keeton, it isn’t you.”

  At the front door he turned, smiling again. “It’s never been me.”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” But it was. And wasn’t. She was making a royal mess of things. The baby whimpered against her shoulder and Keeton walked out the door, letting it thud behind him.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered, and then she whispered a prayer. “God, keep him safe.”

  What if he got hurt? Then what? What about the baby? She rushed out the door, wanting to stop him, to tell him he had a little girl and something could happen to him. Too late, his truck pulled out onto the road and turned in the direction of Dawson.

  “It’s you and me, baby girl. And we’re going to be doing lots of praying tonight.”

  Chapter Four

  The Dawson Rodeo Grounds hadn’t changed much over the years. Keeton liked that about Dawson, that it didn’t change. It hadn’t gotten sucked up in urban sprawl. Mainly because there wasn’t an urban area close enough. Sometimes they got lost tourists looking for Grand Lake. Mostly, it was just Dawson and the folks who’d been here for generations. He liked the slow pace of life, knowing neighbors, knowing the roads, the houses and what made people tick.

  Not that he could figure out Sophie Cooper. Each time he thought he had her pegged, she shifted and left him scratching his head.

  He pulled into the grassy parking area of the arena and parked next to a beater that had seen better days. His old truck was in similar shape but he had a new one on the way. As he stepped out of his pickup a voice shouted his name. He turned and waved at Jeremy Hightree. It was thanks to Jeremy and his skill with bikes that Keeton had money saved up to buy back his family spread.

  The money would stay in the bank for now, because he’d only been able to purchase the twenty that his grandparents’ home sat on.

  Jeremy headed his way. “I guess you really are back?”

  “I’m back.” He reached into his truck for chaps and a bull rope.

  “So, rumor has it you’ve got a kid.” Jeremy leaned against the side of Keeton’s truck, pretending to fiddle with the strap on his chaps. Keeton figured Jeremy was more than a little interested because of his own past. He was Sophie’s half brother. A Cooper, and he hadn’t known that fact for most of his life.

  “I guess I do.”

  “Kind of a surprise, wasn’t it?”

  Keeton looked up. “Jeremy, surprise doesn’t even begin to explain it.”

  “Where is she?”

  Now, how did he get out of answering that question? Might as well answer because odds were, Jeremy and most of Dawson knew where Lucy was. “Sophie’s watching her.”

  Jeremy grinned big, the way Keeton had kind of guessed he would. “That’s good. She’s probably a great babysitter.”

  “Right.” Keeton coiled his bull rope and walked away. “Later.”

  Of course Jeremy followed him. “Do you need any help over at the old homestead?”

  Now, that question had merit. “Probably in the next few days. I’m going to have to patch the roof, replace a couple of windows and probably rebuild the porch.”

  At that, Jeremy laughed. “I meant do you want me to bring you a casserole or something. I hadn’t really planned on hard labor.”

  “You can bring me a casserole and help me patch the roof.”

  “I suppose I could.” Jeremy pointed to a man in black jeans and a white shirt. “Dave has the list, he’ll let you know when you’re up and what bull you’re on.”

  “Thanks.”

  And then Jeremy laughed, his attention focused on the parking lot. “Well, what do you know? Is that Sophie parking her car?”

  “Never.”

  “No, I’m sure it is.” Jeremy pointed to the big sedan and the woman getting out.

  Gone were her pretty amazing sweatpants and the tie-dyed T-shirt. Back was the Sophie in business formal. She had his baby in her arms. It shouldn’t feel so perfect, seeing her with his baby. But everything about this was out of place. Sophie in her dress slacks and blouse. Lucy in her arms. His life had somehow gotten shaken up to the point that he didn’t recognize it as his life.

  “See you later.” Jeremy slapped his back and walked away.

  “Right.” Keeton
walked toward Sophie. She smiled a little and held Lucy close. “What are you doing here? Is Lucy okay?”

  “Lucy still has a little fever.” She bit down on her bottom lip, and then looked up, letting him see tears in her hazel eyes. He had a hard time not pulling her close. He stood his ground, though, waiting for her explanation.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She sniffled. He’d never seen her as the type to get emotional over nothing. She raised her chin a notch and got control back.

  “I couldn’t sit there and wait for you to come home. I kept thinking about you being here, riding bulls. And Lucy. She’s so little. What if…”

  Even with the glimmer of tears, her voice remained strong.

  He stopped her with a slight shake of his head. “Don’t. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “This doesn’t count toward the finals. You don’t have to ride here.”

  “I want to ride here.”

  He used to want to ride here. He wanted to be seventeen again, living his dream, waking up each morning to a family that was whole. For some crazy reason he kept thinking he could get that back. His parents, his brother, his life.

  Buying the land had been the plan. The way to get his life back.

  Sophie stared at him, as if she knew exactly what thoughts were going through his mind. And she looked sorry, for her and for him.

  “Sophie, this is what I do. I ride bulls.”

  “I know.”

  He wanted to hold her but he knew she wouldn’t want that. She had her stronger-than-steel look on her face. She wouldn’t melt. She wouldn’t fall apart.

  “So wish me luck?”

  “Of course, luck. And some prayers.” She swayed with Lucy in her arms. “I thought it would be easier to watch instead of being at home worrying, not knowing.”