Home on the Ranch: Unexpected Daddy Page 6

“Why when it’s a simple matter of me adding an extra handful of pasta and making a little more sauce?”

  She would sound like an idiot if she refused. “Well, if it’s really no trouble.”

  “It’s not.”

  He busied himself fixing a meal, and Charlotte moved back to Olivia, playing a game of peekaboo with her that made the little girl smile once again, and as he prepared the meal he gradually began to relax.

  “Smells delicious.”

  “Fettuccine Alfredo. Super easy. Super fast.” He glanced down at Olivia, who watched Charlotte stand up, her eyes following her every move. “She should like it, too.”

  “At this point, I think she’s probably happy just to have three square meals a day.”

  So sad. He’d known it was bad with Becca, but what she’d let happen to Olivia was unconscionable.

  Charlotte frowned. “She could use those extra meals.”

  Maverick took down plates for them all. He chose a tiny plastic plate for Olivia that he’d had ever since Shane’s kids had come over.

  “Should I take her out of the swing?”

  “You don’t have to. You could feed her in it.”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to try out the new high chair. It’s different than the one my sister, Jayden, and my brother Shane have used.”

  “Then do that. I’m going to wash my hands before I eat.”

  She let him figure out the swing thing all on his own, Olivia’s eyes widening when she caught sight of him hovering over her.

  “It’s okay, kiddo. I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.

  This whole thing is probably scarier for me than you.

  She slipped out of the chair easily enough, and he was familiar enough with high chairs that it was simple for him to navigate. By the time he had her all settled, Charlotte had already scooped up a plate of food, handing it to him.

  “Why don’t we let her try and eat on her own?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He quickly realized he needn’t have worried. Olivia clearly knew how to feed herself. She didn’t even wait for the plastic spork he’d bought her, just dived into her plate with both hands...literally.

  “I think she’s got it covered,” Charlotte said, smiling. She took a bite of her own food. “Mmm. Yum.” She closed her eyes in obvious appreciation of his cooking. “I think I need to bring you home with me.”

  Her eyes widened, and he could tell she’d realized the words sounded suggestive, her eyes dropping to her plate a second later. “I mean, I’ve always wanted a personal cook. Someone to cook for me.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” he said, trying to set her at ease. “I have a feeling I’m going to be wishing for a nanny by the time this is all over.” He smiled at her, taking a bite of his own food. “I’m a little nervous about trying to get out the door in the morning.”

  She’d blushed a bright red, but the color suited her, her rose-red lips turning a darker hue. She soothed a stray wisp of hair over one ear, and he found himself wondering if she ever wore it down and what it would look like.

  “You’ll figure it out.” She took another bite, but she still refused to meet his gaze. “I know I keep saying that, but you will.” He saw her take a deep breath, lift her eyes. “I have faith in you.”

  “Thank goodness I have a big family that can help.”

  She nodded. “To be honest, that was a prime consideration when approving your application.”

  “Do you do that a lot? Place kids into emergency foster care?”

  “More often than I’d like, but it’s easier with someone like you. You’re Olivia’s father...according to the paperwork,” she quickly added. “There would have been more forms to fill out if you’d declined to care for her.”

  “You do realize I’m telling the truth about not being Olivia’s father.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, and he knew she was contemplating his words.

  “Never mind,” he said. “You’ll find out the truth soon enough.”

  “Maverick, I don’t mean to insult you. There’s a part of me that really does believe you. But what I think doesn’t matter. It’s up to the courts to decide.”

  “Is that why I was allowed to take her? Because according to the paperwork, I’m her father? Not because I was willing to help out for the sake of a friend?”

  “No. Yes.” She shook her head. “The truth is we were so short on foster parents that it was a relief when you volunteered. We’re still short on foster parents.”

  “What if I’d been a total scumbag?”

  “Then we would have found that out through the NREFM application process, but you’re not a total scumbag, are you?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  He saw something in her eyes then, something that flared within them, but she covered it up by looking away. It made him think she didn’t trust him, and if so, why not, and why had she allowed him to take Olivia?

  But then she said, “All I know is that long before I’d met you, I’d heard of the amazing Gillian family. But now that I’ve come to know you, Maverick, I realize just how lucky Olivia is to have you named as her father.”

  Her words caused him to flush, and he had to look away from her for a moment. He had a feeling she didn’t hand out compliments all that often. “I promise I’ll be the best temporary dad a man can be.”

  Again, the long stare before she said, “I’m counting on that, Maverick.”

  Chapter 7

  “She’s a mess,” Maverick said a little while later, grabbing a paper towel and dampening it beneath the faucet. Charlotte watched and thought he really was good with kids. “Let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo.”

  She had nothing to worry about, she realized. He was a natural at this. Olivia was in good hands, no matter what she might think.

  “You want out of there?” he asked when he’d cleaned her up. “You want to explore the house together?”

  Charlotte got up, rinsing her plate beneath water, gathering her thoughts before turning to face him. “I think I should probably get going.”

  He was right in the middle of lifting Olivia out of her high chair, turning toward her with the girl in his arms. “You sure you don’t want to stay?”

  “I’m afraid I have to leave. I’m behind at work. Need to go home and try and lighten the load.”

  She turned, looking for her purse. He came toward her, helping Olivia walk alongside of him, but holding on to her hand to steady her. Olivia swayed on her feet, staring up at them both. Then she said, clear as day, “Mama?”

  They both froze. Their gazes shot to Olivia, waiting to see what else she’d say, and when Olivia just kept looking around, Charlotte squatted down next to her.

  “Are you looking for your mama?” she asked.

  She felt Maverick’s gaze on her, and her cheeks flushed all over again. It made her angry, not at him but at herself. Here was a classic example of what she was put on this earth to do—help children in need. Olivia clearly missed her mom because she could see the confusion in her eyes as she stared up at yet another new human being in her life.

  “Your mama is still here,” she told the little girl. She pressed a hand against her chest. “Here. In your heart.”

  She was too young to understand, and in a way, that was a blessing. Studies showed that children Olivia’s age didn’t understand death. They understood things like goodbye and hello and I love you, but not something as permanent as a person passing away. Some kids like Olivia cried nonstop for their mothers. Some kids seemed more curious about where their parents had gone, and in Charlotte’s professional opinion, Olivia would fall into the latter category. She knew her mother wasn’t around, but it didn’t upset her. How could you miss something you’d never really had?

  “Come give me a hug.” She leaned down, pla
cing her arms around the tiny shoulders, feeling her tense at first, then begin to relax, and it made Charlotte want to cry. Heck. Who was she kidding? She could feel her eyes burn with unshed tears. It wasn’t fair. Kids like Olivia didn’t deserve such a rough start. But Charlotte would see to it that it was only better from here.

  “I wish I could take you home with me,” she muttered.

  “I bet you feel like that with all the kids you help,” Maverick said.

  She drew back, surprised by the observation. “I do. But it’s not feasible.” She frowned. “Or realistic.”

  He nodded, still staring at her. Olivia peered up at them both, no more mention of her mama.

  “You’re an incredible woman, Charlotte Bennett.”

  The compliment made her lean back. “Pardon me?”

  “You’re committed to these kids, aren’t you?”

  She told herself not to let him see how his words affected her, but she was pretty certain he must have seen the way her mouth went slack, the way she had to look away for a second because she was so touched that he understood.

  “They’re my whole life.”

  Olivia took a toddling step toward the kitchen, and they both watched, Charlotte glad to see the avid curiosity on her face. Anything was better than the nearly blank stare she’d seen that first day they’d found her.

  “No kids of your own at home?”

  “No,” she said quickly. And there never would be. She’d survived childhood so she could help out kids who’d been like herself, and nothing, not even kindhearted men like Maverick, would ever convince her otherwise. Marriage? Kids? Not her.

  “I think she wants in her swing.” She gestured to Olivia, who was pointing at the device. Charlotte started to back away, her whole body quaking for some reason. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. See how it went.”

  “You want in there, honey?” he asked. But then he turned back. “Thanks for hanging out.”

  She took another step back. “You’re welcome. Good luck.” She called to the little girl, waving goodbye, and then turning away without meeting Maverick’s gaze. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough, not when it occurred to her that if she’d had a different past, Maverick would have been exactly the type of man she would have picked.

  * * *

  “I think it’s time you and Sadie got to know each other,” he said, the moment Charlotte pulled away from his house. He shifted Olivia to the other hip, his heart pounding in his chest as he held her.

  What had he done?

  The words were like the lyrics to a song that he couldn’t get out of his head.

  What had he done and what had he gotten himself into?

  “Can you say dog?” he asked her.

  Not only did she clearly not know the word, but she’d apparently lost her ability to speak, too. She barely moved in his arms, looking around as he headed to the back door, where his dog had been whining.

  “This is Sadie,” he told Olivia, pointing to the dog behind the glass. Olivia just stared, so he slowly slid the back door open, his dog slipping through the opening no wider than her nose, or so it seemed.

  “Hey,” he called out. “Sadie, wait.”

  The collie headed off to the kitchen and the pantry where her food was kept, but she obediently stopped when she heard her name, glancing back at him as if silently asking, What?

  “I want you to meet Olivia.”

  Was it crazy to be talking to his dog? Oddly, it made him feel a little less alone in this crazy undertaking of his. Sadie had spotted the little girl in his arms, and damned if she didn’t tip her head sideways in obvious puzzlement.

  “Sadie, this is Olivia.” He squatted down. “Olivia, this is Sadie. Come here, Sadie.”

  His dog padded over to him quietly, her nose lifted as she tried to catch the scent of the tiny human in his arms.

  “Can you say Sadie, Olivia?”

  The little girl stared at the dog. The dog stared at the little girl, the two of them no doubt sizing each other up and trying to decide if they were friend or foe.

  “Or maybe keep trying dog. That’s a little easier to say for now. Dog.” He reached for Olivia’s hand, gently clasping it and then holding it out to Sadie’s nose. “Dog.”

  Sadie, bless her heart, clearly sensed the child’s recalcitrance. When his brother’s twins came for a visit, she was all dog smiles and wagging tail. Today she very slowly lifted her nose to the child’s hand, touching it and then, after a moment, licking it.

  Olivia pulled back and squealed. The movement so surprised Sadie that she wiggled back.

  “Was that wet?” he asked Olivia with a smile. “That was Sadie’s tongue, but she’s not going to hurt you.” He grabbed her hand again and held it out to the dog, who did the same thing all over again, which made Olivia cry out and wiggle back. But it wasn’t a sound of fear; it was more like...a giggle?

  “Is that funny?” he asked her, smiling again, the little girl peering up at him, and something sort of went ooh when their gazes connected. It was the strangest feeling, like he stared into his future and his past all at the same time, a sort of déjà vu that took him by surprise.

  She looked just like Becca.

  He gulped, remembering the pictures of her in her mom’s home when she’d been young. It was the smile in her eyes, he realized. Olivia smiled just like her mother had back before the drugs had stolen the life from her.

  Becca, Becca, Becca, you damn fool. Look what you’re missing out on.

  He felt his throat thicken until he took a deep breath that he hoped would push the sadness out of his heart. He had Olivia now. He’d keep her safe, for Becca’s sake, and when it was time to hand her over to her permanent foster parents, he’d make sure she stayed safe.

  Olivia wiggled in his arms and he realized she wanted Sadie to touch her again. It became a game. He would hold her hand out and Sadie would lick and Olivia would make the strange little noise that wasn’t quite a giggle but wasn’t a cry of fear, either. And he realized with a flash of heartache that she didn’t know how to laugh. That she might not have ever laughed in her life. Was that possible? Could she be so deprived of human company and love that she’d missed out on basic emotions? He had a feeling she had.

  Not anymore, he told her silently. Not ever again.

  * * *

  Olivia tired quickly. Or maybe it was just her bedtime. He laid her down on the pink crib he’d bought, the one with the Disney princess blankets, and hoped she wouldn’t cry, but all she did was roll over onto her side. He covered her with blankets and she hunkered beneath the quilt, her elbow moving in such a way that he knew she sucked on a thumb.

  “You’re too old for that,” he told her. Or maybe not. Golly. He had no idea. He’d need to consult the parenting book Charlotte had given him or call his sister or someone.

  “Good night, sweetie.”

  She didn’t move, just faced the wall, and he held himself still. He had no idea how long he stayed there, but when he leaned forward, peering over her shoulders, he saw the long length of her lashes resting against her cheeks and he realized she was out.

  Just like that.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Sadie had followed him into the room, and she glanced at the crib as if surprised to find a new piece of furniture in there. She lifted her head and sniffed the air, and he knew that she knew the tiny little human she’d met earlier was asleep in there.

  “Come,” he told the dog quietly, padding softly out of the room.

  He debated with himself about whether or not to close the door, softly latched it shut, then changed his mind and opened it, then changed his mind again, pulling it almost all the way closed.

  “Don’t you dare go in there,” he told his dog.

  Sadie just wagged her tail. And that was that, he thought. Easy.

>   Except nobody had told him about the worry that came along with being a caregiver. He felt compelled to check on Olivia ten thousand times that night, or so it seemed. She hadn’t stirred, but he needed to be sure she was okay, so he kept peeking in on her, wondering if she might try to climb out of the crib. Or if he should have closed the door all the way. What if he couldn’t hear her cry out? Or what if Sadie went in there and woke her up? What if, God forbid, she stopped breathing?

  He ended up camped out on her floor, Sadie curled up next to him, and he felt like a damn fool because he knew Olivia would be safe. Charlotte would laugh at him if she could see him now. Or maybe not. Maybe she’d approve. He suspected there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her kids.

  That was his last thought before he, too, drifted off to sleep. He never saw his dog get up, pad over to the crib, peering up at the child inside before she, too, curled up beneath the crib, where she would remain sleeping all night.

  Chapter 8

  She needed to call.

  Charlotte glanced at her phone for what must have been the tenth time. As his caseworker, it was her duty to check in on him. It had been a week since she’d had dinner at Maverick’s place and not a peep out of him, except for when she’d called the next day to see how his first night with Olivia had gone. He’d reported back that everything had gone great and she hadn’t heard a word since. For some reason that surprised her. Then again, he had a huge family to lean on. Still, he hadn’t called, which meant it was up to her to make contact.

  She glanced at the phone again.

  “Oh, to heck with it.” She pulled up his records, dialed his number a moment later, a part of her hoping he wouldn’t answer so she could leave a message.

  “Hello?”

  She couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Hello,” she echoed, the word coming out in a gush. “It’s me, Charlotte.”

  Could she sound more like a fool? Thank God, he wasn’t in front of her watching her cheeks fill with color, something that had become all too common around him.

  “Hey,” he said in his deep baritone. “How are you?”