by Regan Black
No more family for those “poor Colton triplets,” as they’d been known in school and around the neighborhood. Oh, sure they’d had their grandpa, but Isaiah wasn’t what anyone could call stable, dealing with alcoholism and early-onset dementia. Jarvis had cleaned out Amelia’s house. He’d sold the place and split the money among the three of them.
He’d gone through the expected motions of life, finishing college, finding a great job and throwing himself into it. Dates, girlfriends, poker nights with friends and holidays with his siblings. All of it had been just a little out of sync until he’d come to the Triple R.
This felt right, with or without Isaiah’s stories and the potential fortune at stake. He could breathe out here, heal. He could push himself when necessary and relax when it wasn’t. Early on, all of those right feelings had made him mad, too. Resentful that Payne Colton’s greed and pride had kept the triplets away from this amazing place.
Even with Mia’s son in his arms, this twilight sky, the panoramic fields and the deep blue shadows of the mountains felt right.
The baby shifted but didn’t wake. Jarvis stroked the vulnerable spine. He had the sickening feeling that Mia’s will stated Silas should be raised by Norton if anything happened to her. Who else would it be since she was an only child? If the worst happened, would Regina step into the motherhood role or simply dispose of the inconvenient infant? A chill raised the hair on the back of his neck as he turned toward the bunkhouse.
“It’s your momma’s business, but I hope she’s smarter than that.” The woman needed a partner to help her with days like this one. Not him, obviously. His heart was too hard to take this on full time. He was done taking chances on people and leaving himself open to the inevitable pain. But capable as she was, motherhood was tough and Mia needed someone she could trust standing with her.
The idea of another man walking with Silas and partnering Mia put a bitter taste in Jarvis’s mouth. Dumb but true. “A nanny,” he said. “She needs a reliable, kind nanny.”
He reached the bunkhouse as the sky deepened and the first evening star twinkled overhead. He paused, singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to the baby even though Silas was sound asleep.
The light over the kitchenette was on and Jarvis was pleased to find Mia in her sleeping bag. She was curled on her side, one hand tucked under her chin, her breathing deep and even.
He debated unwinding the sling and decided not to mess up the one thing that was working. Since coming to the ranch, he’d pulled his share of all-nighters. Most of those had occurred during calving season, but there had been other reasons, as well.
He eased himself down into one of the chairs at the table and propped his legs on a second chair. Pulling out his phone, he opened the app he used to track his search for the Triple R ownership evidence Isaiah claimed was buried out here. He studied the landmarks he had pinned on his custom map, comparing those points to the log of coordinates where he’d searched already. It would be smart to get back and finish that attempt near the warming hut. First thing tomorrow, before he got busy with the normal ranch schedule, he promised himself.
The baby scooched around inside the sling and Jarvis held his breath. When the little guy sighed, working that pacifier, he relaxed again. If he could keep the kid asleep all night, it would be ideal for Mia.
He stared at the dark curls covering Silas’s head. How old were babies when they started sleeping through the night? Asher didn’t complain of short nights or interrupted sleep these days, so his girls must sleep all night most of the time.
He searched the topic on his phone and found answers with a wide enough age range to be annoying rather than helpful. As a milestone, sleeping all night seemed to involve some mysterious baby X factor that was unique to each individual child. How did parents manage this stuff?
He went back to looking up Regina Graves. Most of the news he found related directly to her marriage to Norton. Doing the math and skimming the old publicity photos, he figured Mia must have been a teenager when her father remarried. Though she smiled in her father’s wedding photos, her eyes were flat and a little sad.
That led him to the pictures online of Mia’s modeling career and eventual wedding. On that happy day, she wore ivory lace that flattered her skin, her eyes sparkled and her smile was the brightest he’d ever seen as she linked hands with her groom, Roderick. Jarvis studied the man again. Her ex was well over six feet tall and powerfully built. For a man known to push the envelope with computers and tech, his thick blond hair, blue eyes and chiseled features were Hollywood worthy.
Jarvis studied the baby resting contentedly in the sling. Silas didn’t resemble his father at all, only Mia. Maybe Jarvis was biased, but he hoped it stayed that way. For everyone involved.
The baby snuffled, hiking up his hips and rubbing his face on Jarvis’s chest. The pacifier came loose and Jarvis started singing, his voice low and gentle as he nudged the pacifier back in place.
It worked for a few minutes, then he squirmed again. Jarvis stood up and carefully unwrapped the sling, still singing. Every minute he could give Mia had to help her. Nestled in the crook of his arm, Silas went back to sleep. Jarvis kept singing and swaying.
* * *
Mia came awake to the mellow sound of a baritone voice singing softly. It was “Home on the Range,” she realized as the melody registered in her sleepy mind. Feeling refreshed, she let herself be lulled by Jarvis’s efforts to keep her son quiet.
It was the sweetest sound and she didn’t want to move and spoil the moment. From under her lashes, she watched him sway gently, silhouetted by the pale light over the sink. She’d never seen a more devoted picture of fatherhood, unless she thought of her own father. She tried to imagine Roderick tending to his son this way and the pieces wouldn’t fit.
There was a picture similar to this one in her baby album. Her mom had caught her dad in the act of singing her to sleep one night. Dalinda had been adamant about creating and keeping memories. After her death, Mia was doubly grateful for her commitment. The album of her first year was in her father’s study at home and she’d planned to share it with Silas one day, to use it as a model for his baby book. Would she ever see that precious scrapbook again?
Right now she used an online journal to keep up with Silas’s baby milestones. The program allowed her to share the online pages with friends and relatives and she could order prints of the pages. But her recent days had been so bad that she hadn’t wanted to revisit them—until this moment, as she watched Jarvis with her son.
Stretching slowly so the mattress wouldn’t squeak in the frame, she eased up to a sitting position. Jarvis didn’t stop singing until he reached the end of his verse. When he finally looked up, the intensity of his gaze stole her breath.
Her body heated in an instant and hormones she barely recognized sat up and begged. For Jarvis. A taste, a kiss, a touch. Any tangible connection he’d allow, she’d gladly accept. What would those hardworking hands feel like on her skin? Her fingertips positively itched to feel the rasp of the whiskers on his square jaw.
She tried to smile, focusing on other reactions and signals. She needed the bathroom and based on the fullness in her breasts, her son would soon need to nurse. Much safer to address those needs instead of this sudden longing for a man who was simply kind enough to help a stranger.
She hurried to the bathroom and took care of herself, splashing water on her face to cool down her heated cheeks. Silas was fussing again when she emerged, but it wasn’t anything like it had been.
Or maybe it was just as bad, but sleep had blunted the sharp edge.
Jarvis was on the floor again, changing her son’s diaper, a more bizarre sight than watching him sing a lullaby. He glanced at her and a grin spread over his handsome features. “Feeling better?”
“Much. Thanks to you.” She picked up Silas and started to nurse while Jarvis disposed of the dia
per and washed his hands.
It should feel awkward, but didn’t. She blamed the illusion of normalcy on the late hour. Since giving birth, she’d discovered that two in the morning gave her a false sense of being separate and distant from real-world constraints. She could think and say things in this hour that no one else would ever hear. It was liberating. Especially after nearly six solid hours of uninterrupted sleep.
“How did you get him to sleep for so long?”
Jarvis shrugged. “Ask him. I didn’t do much at all.”
“You sang to him.”
He tapped his phone. “Just applying advice I found online. Every cowboy knows that song.”
She shook her head at his deflection. “Thank you, Jarvis. You have no idea how much I needed the break.” She brushed fingertips over her son’s head. “We both needed this. You’re a natural.”
“That’s, um... No. I don’t think that fits.”
Maybe this rare hour was only soothing and restorative for her. “Easy, cowboy. It’s a compliment, not a commitment.”
He sat down across from her, his lips tilted sheepishly as he kept his gaze averted. “Noted. Do you want me to stay?”
Yes. “Since you’re the hero of the hour, you can do as you please,” she said. “Just be warned, he might not go another six hours.”
He scrubbed at his face. “I’ll stay. If I go back now, it’s likely to raise more questions than if I’m out all night,” he explained.
She’d visited the Triple R several times for various events and never once given a thought to where or how the crew lived. “You live on the ranch?”
He nodded, a challenge glinting in his gaze. “Is that a problem?”
“Are you kidding?” Even if it was, why did her opinion matter? “I just never thought about that aspect of the operation at a ranch this size.”
“No one does. Not even me. Living here isn’t required, but I like it. Plus, it’s convenient.”
“I bet.” She paused to burp Silas. “Thanks again. I feel like a new woman.”
“Happy to help.” His gaze warmed and his smile sent tingles all through her system.
Shocked by her raw responses, she averted her gaze. “How can I repay you? There has to be something I can do.”
“Do you rope cattle or ride fences?” he joked.
“I can walk fences,” she volunteered quickly. “I do have a wealth of skills beyond mothering.” That might be overstating it, but she was a quick learner and she enjoyed learning new things.
“If only we needed a swimsuit model.”
She rolled her eyes. “You looked me up.”
“Didn’t have to,” he said. “We studied your career in my business classes.”
“You what? That’s...” She shook her head. “No. No way. How old are you?”
“Relax.” He chuckled. “I’m thirty-one. It was right after your first swimsuit-edition cover. We were studying how you’d branded yourself.”
“It wasn’t easy.” She looked at Silas. “Dad wasn’t amused by my decision. Furious is more accurate. He didn’t want me ‘flaunting myself,’ as he put it, but I needed the money to get through school.”
“Your dad didn’t help with your education?”
“It would be more accurate to say that my stepmother helped herself to my college fund. She had a better story than the truth when I discovered the problem.”
“Your dad believed Regina?”
“Yes.” Jarvis’s dumbfounded expression was such a comfort. For him to side with her without needing any proof was a balm to her battered heart. Silas, his tummy full, was starting to doze off again. That was miraculous. She wanted to gush and thank Jarvis all over again, but she thought that might embarrass him, so she kept the words inside. “They say love is blind. In Dad’s case, they’re right.”
She missed the rocking chair from the nursery, but she managed to mimic the gentle motion. It soothed her as much as her son as her mind drifted back to those grim days. “I can’t say there’s a single day that I ever liked my stepmom.” She could talk about it now without too much animosity or grief. “From the start, she struck me as fake.”
“Spoiler alert, it seems like you were right.”
“Well, she’s been good to my dad and I can’t deny that he’s happier. He was crushed when Mom died.”
“If Regina’s been good to your dad, why do you think she’d follow through on the threat to hurt him?”
Mia snorted softly. “The woman is after his money. Any thoughtful gesture or kind effort she’s made has carried her closer to gaining control of his fortune and more influence in his professional circles.”
“But she was never in banking. Not like your dad.”
Mia glanced up from her son’s sweet face to catch the furrowed brow on Jarvis’s face. “Someone’s been doing his homework.”
“Protecting the ranch, remember?”
She started to laugh, caught herself before she woke the baby. When she had Silas wrapped snug and settled into his car seat, she rocked it a bit with her toe. “You’ve been researching all of us.”
“Only to a point.”
She didn’t know why it was funny. It should be offensive or off-putting at least. Instead, she wanted to give him a high five. Or a hug. A kiss. Please, yes, a kiss. Her gaze dropped to his lips and she pressed her own together—hard—to stop her runaway thoughts about how he would taste and feel.
“Regina is ruthless. Manipulative. She says one thing and does another all the time.”
“With your college fund.”
She nodded. “And her marriage vows. I’m not sure she expected to deal with Dad for decades. As far as I know, she only has control of her accounts, not his. And I’m pretty sure she hasn’t convinced him to cut me out of the will, though she is his primary beneficiary. After this incident, though, if she can keep me away and spin it right, there’s no reason to keep him around.”
“Mia.”
The tenderness in his voice nearly broke her. Serious talks in the wee hours were perilous. Worse were the questions she burned to ask him about his past, his choices, and if he might be willing to have an affair with her. Nothing permanent. No obligations.
“I really should get some sleep before he wakes up again,” she said.
“Yeah. I’ll be out of here by sunrise.” He waited for her to crawl into the bunk, with Silas in his seat tucked between her and the wall. Then he turned out the light and stretched out on the bunk opposite hers.
For the longest time, she listened to his breath, imagining how it would be to have all that strength wrapped around her. Sleeping alone had been the biggest adjustment when she’d left Roderick. It had been such a strange sensation not having his solid body to curl into, to reach for in the night.
Thank goodness the bunks were narrow or she might have embarrassed herself by asking Jarvis to spoon her. Her imagination took over and she shifted restlessly, willing herself to sleep.
“Mia?”
“Mmm?” It was nice to know he wasn’t asleep, either. Could it be because he wanted her, too?
“Why did you marry Roderick?”
Her sex-fantasy bubble burst. “Love.” That had only been part of the equation. “Love and money,” she admitted. She rolled over to face him, her back pressed close to the hard side of the car seat. “I’m not ashamed of that.”
“I wouldn’t say you should be.”
“We had an understanding about life and goals. He was a good match for me in several areas—we were both ambitious. And he was hot,” she joked.
“Obviously.” Jarvis chuckled softly. “You were a stunning couple.”
She groaned. “I hate the internet.” She didn’t, really. It was one more tool she’d used to her advantage even after her prime modeling years. “I mean, thanks.”
His bunk c
reaked as he shook with smothered laughter. “You should sleep,” he whispered when he caught his breath.
“Same goes, my friend,” she replied. “Thank you for everything today,” she said quietly. “If we’re not up when you leave, have a good day tomorrow.”
“You, too. Remember to call me if there’s trouble.”
“There won’t be,” she said. She was too cozy, too safe here in this moment for any trouble to touch her.
“I’ll bring out a truck and some dinner tomorrow night.”
“Mmm. Sounds good.”
She shouldn’t let him keep helping her, but she enjoyed his company. He gave her something wonderful to anticipate, a happy thought that shot like a sunbeam through the clouds of uncertainty and fear in her mind.
Chapter 5
When his phone beeped with the morning alarm, Jarvis rolled out of the bunk, more rested than he expected after the short night. As quietly and quickly as possible, he made use of the tidy bathroom and dressed again in the same clothes from yesterday.
The baby and Mia slept through it all. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow and one hand was tucked next to her son’s knee while he slept in the car seat. He hoped they had a much better day today.
It was all he could do not to kiss her goodbye before leaving the bunkhouse in search of strong coffee. If she needed to stay on, needed more time to make a plan, it would be smart to keep an overnight bag here. Not that he was so eager to move in, but so it was less obvious he was spending nights away from the ranch.
Early sunlight washed over the paddocks near the main stable and filled him up with positive energy. Maybe that energized feeling was more about Mia than the clear day, but either way, he’d take it. Gladly. He picked up his task list for the day, more than a little relieved there weren’t any work orders at Selina’s place.
He needed to find a way to talk to Mia about the party. Selina had texted him a couple of pictures late last night in various dresses. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the information and he responded as vaguely as possible. Whatever she wore, he’d be in his best suit. Coordinating colors seemed more suited to a high school prom than an adult occasion, but maybe her social set put more stock into that kind of thing.