Home on the Ranch: Unexpected Daddy

by Pamela Britton

  “Looks like we’ll have the barn to ourselves.” He pointed down the road, and she caught a glimpse of the magnificent stable she’d passed each time she’d driven in. “Nobody parked out front.”

  “It looks like someone’s home it’s so pretty,” she mused.

  “It does, kind of. Never thought about it.”

  Because he was so used to the splendor of the place, he probably never saw it like everyone else did. The first time she’d seen it from a distance she’d thought that was exactly what it was—a home—but then she realized the big sandy area was an arena. It looked like it belonged next to a California mission with its Spanish tile roof, stucco exterior walls and an arched entry that gave her a glimpse of luxurious stall fronts inside. No horses peeked their heads out, but that was because wrought iron bars lined the tops of the wooden stall fronts and kept the horses inside the stall.

  “You could film a movie here,” she said.

  They were on a slight rise, the vineyards spreading outward to her left, the grass-covered hills in the distance. Beautiful in a way that she’d never seen before.

  “They actually have.”

  They had paused near the entrance. “So the arena is right through there.” He motioned toward the rear entrance and the sandy area out past the barn’s sliding wooden doors.

  “What we’ve done in the past is covered the arena with a giant tent, the kind they use for weddings, only bigger, and if you’re worried about the footing, don’t be. We wet the sand down beneath it and then roll it so that it forms a kind of hardpan. The arena’s big enough that you can seat a hundred and fifty people pretty easily at what my aunt calls rounds—they’re just round tables. That’s if we decide to do a sit-down dinner. We could always just do cocktails. My sister’s boss did a huge grand opening celebration in his arena, although his place is covered, but it’s definitely doable. We’d just need to decide what type of event.”

  It could work. She didn’t have any doubt about that.

  “Maverick, I can’t afford to pay for any of this. You know that, don’t you?”

  They stood in the shade of the barn, his blue eyes searching her own. “We figured as much, but you don’t need to worry about that. We’ll foot the bill.”

  She spotted a horse inside a stall, walked forward. The animal inside was a gorgeous red color, her mane long and silky and ink black.

  “That’s my niece’s horse, Snazzy. She shows her at cutting competitions.”

  Charlotte shook her head. What would it be like to grow up in a place like this? she wondered. To have horses and siblings and a beautiful home to live in. To wake up every day and be able to walk among such beauty. It only solidified her determination to convince Maverick to take Olivia permanently. What a lucky little girl she would be.

  “Some of our kids would go nuts out here.” She held out her hand. The horse inside the stall walked forward and reached for the bars with her nose, but when she went to pet the animal, it shied away.

  “Like this,” he said, coming forward.

  Everything inside her froze when he touched her, and not because she feared him like she had other men in her past. No. This was different. This was like that moment when she’d taken the kids to an amusement park and they’d ridden that huge roller coaster, and she’d sat in the front and had a perfect view of that first, terrifying drop. She’d been so afraid and excited all at the same time.

  She tried to snatch her hand away and glanced up at him, noting the stubble on his jawline and the way he smelled and that the veins on his biceps stood out beneath the sleeves of his polo shirt in the way of men who were physically fit.

  “Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she lied.

  He wouldn’t let her go. “Just flatten your hand.” He gently tugged on her fingers, and his touch was so soothing and so gentle that she told herself not to move. She didn’t want him touching her, but not for the reasons she usually rejected a man’s touch. Oh, no. When Maverick clasped her fingers, it was like landing on a different planet, overwhelming and exhilarating and strange.

  The horse came forward again. Its breath touched her first, and then its nose, the hair so soft and the way the upper lip moved—like an elephant’s—that she forgot for a second that a man held her hand.

  “There,” he said softly. “See.”

  He let her go. She almost collapsed against the front of the stall.

  “A horse’s touch can soothe the soul.”

  She glanced up at him sharply, wondering if he’d sensed her tension, but he was staring at the horse. He had a whimsical smile on his face. He seemed to gather himself, straightened a bit and glanced back down at her.

  “That’s what my mom always said.”

  “You were close to her.”

  She didn’t mean it as a question. She’d been desperate to distract herself from the way being so near to him made her feel. But she’d stared into enough eyes over the years to know that she’d hit a nerve.

  “Super close.”

  Her breath hitched for a moment. She saw sadness in his eyes, and as it always did, it evoked an urge to comfort him, but she couldn’t do that.

  “You were lucky.”

  Something about her words had caught his attention because he cocked his head like a bird that had heard the cry of a friend.

  “What about you? Were you close to your parents?”

  She flinched, peered back at the horse and hoped he hadn’t seen the way she’d reacted.

  “No.”

  Not to any of her so-called parents, but the last one, that one had been the worst—well, the father and his biological son.

  She didn’t want to think about it, much less talk about it, and so she said, “We have a little boy in foster care right now who would love to visit your ranch.”

  He peered down at her and she knew—she just knew—that he’d seen her reaction, and more, that he’d somehow figured out what she’d been through. That he’d gleaned the terrible truth she hid from most people. She thought he might press the issue, but he didn’t and, in hindsight, she shouldn’t be surprised. If she’d learned anything about the man, it was that he understood the complexities of the human heart, and that kindness would always keep him quiet if the situation warranted.

  “It’s strange how some kids are born horse crazy,” he said.

  It was an obvious change of subject on his part and she was grateful.

  “Yes, it is, Fineus.”

  He frowned down at her, but it was a playful look, one that conveyed his understanding of her need to lighten the mood.

  “Careful now,” he said.

  “I think I should call you that all the time.”

  “Not if you want to remain friends.”

  Friends? She supposed they were turning into that. And it wasn’t like her to tease a man, and the thought sobered her as they lapsed into silence.

  “You should bring that little boy out here,” he said a moment later.

  She felt her brows lift in surprise. “Oh, no, I couldn’t, and I didn’t mean to infer—”

  “Hup. Hup.” He lifted his hands, and she could see the thoughtful consideration in his eyes. “I’m going somewhere with this. Maybe that’s the direction we should go in for this event. We could invite some of your foster families to come out. See if they’d share their experience with the people who attend, have them talk about what it’s like to give a home to children like Olivia.”

  “But I—”

  “No, no. Promise me you’ll think about it. It could really have an impact on people. And knowing my aunt, she’ll invite a ton of people to the benefit or gala or whatever we end up calling it, all of them potential new foster parents, not to mention the media exposure would be great. Nothing like free drinks to bring out the press.”

  He had a poin
t, but it meant she’d have to see more of him, and he made her feel so off balance and strange that she didn’t want that. She wanted to go hide in a hole, or maybe her office, just do her job and leave and forget about the hidden splendor of Gillian Ranch.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She went back to staring at the horse because staring into his eyes made her feel even more odd.

  “Say you’ll do it.”

  She took a deep breath. She’d be a fool to say no.

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll do it?”

  “I will.”

  He smiled and she felt such a sudden burst of hero worship that it darn near clogged her throat. She swallowed, hard.

  “Great,” he said.

  Great for the kids. Not for her.

  Chapter 10

  “So that was Charlotte,” his aunt said the moment the two of them were alone.

  He almost went back outside where he’d just been seeing Charlotte off. He recognized the opening volley of a coming inquisition. Just what he needed.

  “Yes, that was Charlotte,” he said, glancing over at Olivia, who sat in the family room on a blanket playing with the plastic blocks his aunt had bought her. “You want me to cook you some dinner? I heard Uncle Bob is off picking up some cattle.”

  “No, that’s okay.” He walked into the kitchen and heard his aunt stand up and follow him. “I have about a million things to do at home.”

  If he were honest, he was almost glad she didn’t want to stay. But he should have known he wouldn’t escape that easily. She stopped in the entry to his kitchen just off the front foyer, and Maverick kept an eye on Olivia through the doorway. She seemed perfectly content to sit on the floor.

  “So, did she agree to let us help her?” she asked, leaning against the door.

  “She did.”

  “Good.” His aunt stayed in the doorway. He turned to grab a pot so he could start boiling water for noodles. He’d probably gained ten pounds since Olivia had come to live with him. He used to skip dinner a lot, but now all he seemed to do was cook pasta. The kid couldn’t get enough of it.

  “She seems nice.”

  “She is.”

  “And way prettier than I expected.”

  He said nothing.

  “And so good with kids,” she added.

  He set the pot on the stove, turned the switch and, because he no longer had anything else to distract him, faced his aunt, although he refused to comment.

  “I wonder why some man hasn’t snapped her up,” she said.

  Why she’d shrunk away from him when he’d reached for her hand. Abuse? he wondered. The thought upset him.

  “No comment, huh?”

  It took him a moment to remember his aunt’s question. From the family room Olivia let out a squeal that had them both turning in her direction. Sadie had walked over to her and, evidently, had sat down on her blocks.

  “No,” the little girl said, wagging a finger.

  They both froze.

  Olivia tottered to her feet, her hands moving to Sadie’s face, her tiny hands pushing against her snout so hard that the skin along the gum line pushed up, revealing Sadie’s teeth. Sadie didn’t move.

  “No,” Olivia said again.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Crystal murmured. “She picked up on one word, at least.”

  “Sadie, come.”

  The dog leaped to her feet, pushing Olivia off balance. She landed on her rear so hard she started to cry.

  “Sadie,” Maverick scolded.

  “Come here, darling,” said his aunt at the same time.

  “No, I’ll get her,” Maverick said, giving his dog the stink eye when she crossed to his side. “Bad dog,” he told the collie, but inside his heart sang. Olivia had said something. Granted, it was only one word, but it was a start.

  “It’s okay,” he said, scooping her up. She cried like someone had taken the blocks and burned them in front of her, and he pulled her up to him. When her tiny arms wrapped around him, and when she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck, his throat thickened like someone had poured cement down it, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.

  “Aw, look at her cuddle,” Crystal said.

  When he met his aunt’s gaze, her own lids were suspiciously moist. “I always thought you’d make a great dad.”

  “I’m not her dad,” he said over the muffled sound of Olivia’s tears.

  “But you could be. Permanently.”

  “Aunt Crystal, no. This is only temporary, remember?”

  “So you’d let her go to strangers?”

  He hadn’t thought about it. And now he didn’t want to think about it, so he focused on soothing the little girl.

  “Come on, Sadie. Outside,” Crystal said. “You’ve offended that poor child’s dignity. Go hide until she calms down.”

  The front door opened and closed, and when his aunt came back she stared at him with a knowing look in her eyes.

  “Face it, Maverick, that little girl is going to burrow herself straight into your heart, and when the time comes to give her up, you’re going to feel like you’re losing a limb.”

  Olivia had calmed down, her sobbing having turned to snuffles. She’d relaxed in his arms and he knew that his aunt was right. He’d hate it.

  “Whatever my feelings are when the time comes, she deserves two loving parents.”

  “Like you had?”

  He searched for a hidden meaning behind his aunt’s words and found none. Her blue eyes considered him carefully, but that was all. Had she known about the tension in the house before his mom’s death?

  “Like all kids should have.”

  A brow lifted. “These days lots of people raise kids on their own.”

  “Yeah, but not me.”

  Her lips pressed together. “Old-fashioned.”

  “Maybe.”

  Or maybe he’d never really thought about it. He’d never been close to proposing to someone, never thought about a family. It had seemed too far off in the distance, but maybe it was closer than he’d thought.

  “Do you mind putting some noodles in that water there?” he asked his aunt.

  “You should put her in the swing. She looks ready to go to sleep.”

  He took a peek at her, gray eyes heavy-lidded, but they met his own, and when they did he felt the same kind of sensation as he did when he looked into the eyes of his brother’s kids. Strange.

  “You want to swing while Daddy—” He stopped. “While I cook dinner.”

  After he’d settled her in the chair he turned back to his aunt.

  “I caught that,” she said.

  “Nothing to it, Auntie.”

  “Just like there’s nothing to the way you look at that woman.”

  “Aunt Crystal—”

  “No, no.” She lifted her hand. “I’m going to leave you to it. Just ask yourself one question. Why are you going to so much trouble if you don’t like her at least a little bit?”

  “I like her.” He shook his head. Earlier he’d been pretty certain they’d end up as friends. “But it’s not the kind of like that will ever turn into anything. I also feel sorry for her because she works so hard.”

  She was the type of person who threw her whole heart into helping kids. He admired that about her, that was all.

  His aunt had come forward, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek before she said, “Keep telling yourself that.”

  * * *

  A week later Charlotte stared at the words in front of her for a full thirty seconds.

  Conclusion: Maverick Gillian is excluded as the father of Olivia Gillian.

  There it was in black and white, just as he’d said. He wasn’t the baby’s father, and so unless by some miracle someone walked into her office and admitted to being Olivia’s
father, the little girl would now become a ward of the state of California. And while she wasn’t all that surprised, it was still a disappointment, and she had to sit there and analyze why.

  She’d been hoping Olivia would stay with Maverick.

  But if he’d been lying, that would have changed her opinion of him, and not for the better, and that had to be part of the conflicting emotions she felt, too. The man was a saint. She supposed she’d been hoping to find a chink in his armor.

  Why?

  He was a kind, caring man who’d taken in a little girl for no other reason other than he felt he owed it to her mom.

  What a testament to his character.

  She pushed back from her desk, spinning around so she could see out the front. Outside had dawned a gorgeous day. The mountains in the distance, the ones that separated their small town from the coast, were covered in green. Cars drove by and she wished she could be like the drivers inside, oblivious to the darker side of life. So many kids. So few qualified people to take care of them. But the Gillians wanted to help her with that, and she wasn’t too proud to accept that help even if it meant working with a man who made her question her vow to steer clear of the opposite sex.

  Her phone pinged again. She turned around to face it.

  My aunt was wondering if you’d like to join us for family dinner at her place on Sunday night to discuss the upcoming event?

  Speak of the devil.

  She thought about ignoring the text, and she didn’t want to think about why. But she couldn’t do that. Family dinner would give her a chance to meet the people closest to Maverick. That was part of her job, to follow up with family members on Olivia’s care.

  Sure. What time?

  He texted a time and directions to his aunt’s house, which appeared to be one of the homes on the hill behind the stables she’d visited. She texted back confirmation that she’d be there, but then her gaze caught on the document in front of her. She was tempted to raise the issue with him, but she knew he’d receive a copy, too. This wasn’t television. There would be no big, dramatic courtroom reveal about Olivia’s parentage. He would still need to appear in front of a judge to make things official, but that was the extent of his obligation. He owed them nothing.