Kissed by a Cowboy Page 7

  She’d been wrapped in a white blanket, so tight Wes couldn’t imagine her being comfortable, but she slept like the dead even when he held her clumsily in his arms.

  “Hi, Mrs. Landon. I’m Jillian Thacker.”

  Crap. He looked up in time to see Jillian walking forward with her hand out. He hadn’t even introduced them.

  “Mom,” he said softly, “Jillian’s a friend of Mariah’s. Her friend’s truck broke down in Red Bluff, so I offered to give her a ride home, only you had me so worried she insisted I come straight here.”

  “Jillian, hello,” his mom said, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

  They shook hands. Then Jillian glanced around. “I was wondering if I could use a phone. I don’t have cell service and I’d like to tell my friend I’m here.”

  “Go ahead.” His mom waved Jillian toward the back of the house. “It’s in the kitchen. On the counter.”

  His gaze connected briefly with Jillian’s, and he spotted the way her eyes caught on the bundle in his arms, but only for a brief moment because she looked away, quickly, as though uncomfortable with the sight of the child in his arms.

  He didn’t blame her. He held a baby. A daughter.

  “How did this happen?” he heard himself ask.

  “Well, I suspect approximately nine months ago you and that woman had sex.”

  “Mom.” The baby stirred. His stomach lurched. What did one do when a baby grew restless? “I know how babies are made. How the hell did you end up with...?” He tried to remember the baby’s name.

  “Maggie,” his mom finished for him.

  Maggie. Her name was Maggie.

  “Why did she leave her with you?”

  “Sit down, Wes.”

  He realized that he’d started pacing when the poor baby’s eyes opened. They were green. Startlingly, piercingly green.

  “I don’t understand.” He met his mom’s gaze. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “She said she tried to call.”

  “Yeah. Call. To tell me she needed to see me. But she’d been saying that since the day we broke up, and that was just about nine months ago, Mom, so she couldn’t have been very pregnant.” Well, she could have been, he supposed. “I mean, she couldn’t have known so early. And when she did find out, why didn’t she come to see me?”

  “She said she wanted to wait until the baby was born. To be sure it was yours.”

  “Be sure it was... You mean she wasn’t certain before?”

  His mom appeared uncomfortable. “She said when she saw Maggie’s eyes, she knew she was yours.”

  Wes closed his own eyes. She’d been cheating on him. He’d known that. It was why he’d broken up with her. Well, that and other things—like the fact that it’d turned out she was after his money. They’d met at a dinner for owners at the Turf Club—his mom had invited him. They’d dated for a couple of weeks, but once Maxine realized he was a lowly farm manager and that he didn’t actually own Landon Farms, she’d gone a little crazy on him. He’d attributed it to her disappointment that he wasn’t some kind of millionaire and had broken up with her over the whole thing. When she’d called him half a dozen times a day, he’d counted it a lucky escape.

  “What am I going to do?”

  His mom’s face had softened. “If it’s any consolation, I’m in just as much shock as you.”

  “Did she leave a number?”

  His mom nodded. “She said to give her a call in the morning.”

  I’ll bet, he thought.

  “We should do a DNA test.”

  His mom nodded.

  “But in the meantime...”

  “What do we do with her?” his mom finished.

  “I can help with that.”

  They both looked up to see Jillian standing there.

  “I caught Mariah just as she was leaving. She’s on her way over with some stuff. Crib. Changing table. Bathing tub. It was donated to CEASE for our annual rummage sale, but she’s going to bring it here instead. What about diapers and formula?”

  “The mom left us with a bag of supplies.”

  “Good. Wes, do you have a room you can use at your place?”

  A baby. He had a baby. He just couldn’t get used to the idea.

  “He does,” his mom answered for him.

  “Let’s go get it ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  His mom was about to leave. Mariah and Jillian had already left, which meant soon he would be alone. A surge of panic made it nearly impossible to breathe. His hands shook as he gently set Maggie down in her crib.

  “What if she wakes up?”

  “She will wake up,” his mom said. The light outside the room in the hallway allowed him to see the amusement in her eyes. “But I’ve made up some bottles of formula and left them in the fridge. Warm them up for thirty seconds at a time until they’re lukewarm.”

  Warm them up? “What if I make it too hot?” he said, careful to keep his voice low. A glance into the crib revealed Maggie sleeping soundly, her face a pearlescent white in the muted half-light. “And what if she needs her diaper changed? What if she starts crying? How do I get her to stop?”

  His mom was shaking her head. “With babies this age it’s easy. They’re either hungry, wet or wanting to be held. Try each thing until she stops.”

  She made it sound so simple. Wes had a feeling it was not, but he’d insisted on tackling this on his own. It wasn’t his mom’s fault he’d been a careless idiot nine months ago.

  Stupid idiot, more like.

  His mom stepped back from the crib, and he resisted the urge to beg her to stay, at least until he felt a little more comfortable.

  Thousands of new parents deal with a new baby every day. You can, too.

  Outside the baby’s room, his mom gave him a kiss on the cheek. Jillian had promised to look in on him tomorrow. He’d heard her say something about working for a day care in a past life, although he hadn’t been certain if she’d been serious about having a past life, or if it’d been a figure of speech. Once they’d dropped off the crib and other items, he’d waved goodbye.

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  What he needed was a nanny. Or better yet, a different life.

  You should have called Maxine back.

  He should have done a lot of things. He should have not gotten involved with Maxine in the first place. Or maybe not gone to that party. Or used a damn condom. Damn it. What had he been thinking?

  He heard the snick of the front door as his mom left. Should he go back in Maggie’s room? Sleep next to her, maybe? Did parents do that? Maybe they should have put her in his bed. But what if he rolled over on her? Better for her to be in a crib, he thought, quietly slipping through the door even though he told himself to crawl into bed and try and get some sleep. Yeah, right. Like that would happen.

  The little girl in the crib looked tiny against a maroon backdrop. They’d taken a queen-size sheet and wrapped it around the mattress a few times. His mom had brought him a matching fleece blanket, but Maggie lay on top, bundled inside her white blanket. Her little mouth opened and closed, as if she nursed on a bottle in her dreams. And it was funny because he’d done some pretty brave things in his life—cliff jumping in Mexico when he was younger. Paragliding on the same trip. Bungee jumping, too. But nothing filled him with as much fear as staring down at that little girl.

  “I won’t let you down.”

  But the truth was, he already had. He should have been with Maxine through the pregnancy. Should have taken her to her doctor’s appointments. He should have held Maggie when she’d been born.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered, wanting to touch her face, terrified to do so. “I promise.”

  Bright green eyes popped open. It felt like coming face-to-face with a tiger. She took one look at him and bawled...like a baby. Which she was. And he was absolutely panic stricken at the thought of picking her up. What if he dropped her? What if her head flopped back? What if the burrit
o blanket came undone? Would he be able to refasten it?

  “Son of a—”

  Ah-ah. No swearing.

  He almost whipped out his cell phone to call his mom. She probably wasn’t even back at the house yet. Besides, he had to take the plunge sooner or later. The little girl was his responsibility. Man, what a sobering thought.

  His hands shook as he reached inside the crib. He managed to pick her up right, her little head supported in the palm of his hand, her tiny body as light as a feather.

  “Shh,” he soothed.

  It was as if he played a part in a movie, but the reality really was as he’d seen on TV. The child fit in the crook of his arm. He peered down at her, smiled, gave in to the urge to touch her face.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

  The sobs faded. Eyes stopped squeezing out tears. The little wrinkled brow smoothed. Green eyes met his own, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  He owned animals. Loved his dog. Took care of sick critters. But nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever prepared him for looking into the eyes of a tiny human being, one solely dependent upon him for food and love and support and, yes, a shoulder to cry on.

  “You’re going to be all right.”

  He had a lounge chair, one used to watch football and car racing on the odd occasion he found himself with some free time. He settled into it now, reclining it back with the flick of a lever. Should he lay her on his belly? Did she want to rest her head on his shoulder? Heart pounding, he gently moved her into position against his shoulder. No crying. If anything, it was as if her tiny little body went slack. He could feel it. Could hear her breathing slow. Felt her head get heavier. The smell of her, all baby cream and talc, made him close his eyes.

  He could do this, he silently told himself, and it was one of the last thoughts he had before both of them—baby and father—drifted off to sleep together.

  * * *

  AS A LIFE-ALTERING EXPERIENCE, it didn’t get much bigger than a baby, Jillian thought on their way home.

  “I can’t believe the woman just dumped her kid on Wes’s lap,” Mariah said, swiping a lock of her crazy red hair—Disney hair, Jillian liked to call it—away from her face.

  “Well, technically Wes’s mother’s lap,” Jillian amended, stifling a yawn.

  The highway was empty, and the hood of Mariah’s white truck reflected the glow of sodium lights. She didn’t know how Mariah could sound so chipper. Then again, as a veterinarian, she spent a lot of time helping ailing horses and their panicked owners. She was used to long nights.

  “Thank goodness we had that crib,” Mariah said. “Although I suppose the baby could have slept next to Wes for a night.”

  The poor man had seemed absolutely panicked at the thought of caring for a baby on his own. His mom had offered to watch the child at her place, but Wes had been insistent about caring for his own kid. She respected that. A lot of men would be only too happy to hand over their kids to Grandma...if the baby girl even was his kid. But whether he’d fathered the child or not, she couldn’t believe someone would just drop the little girl off with near strangers.

  “You sure you want to dive in and help him with that mess?” Mariah asked.

  “I think he could use all the help he can get.”

  “And I thought I was a sucker for charity cases.”

  Her friend was. As the founder of CEASE— Concerned Equestrians Aiding in Saving Equines—Mariah had the biggest heart of anyone she knew. Ironic that she’d been trying to set her up with Wes for months.

  “Poor Wes.” She heard her say.

  Jillian privately echoed the thought even as a part of her wondered what he’d been thinking to have unprotected sex.

  At least he was having sex.

  She winced at the thought. She couldn’t remember the last time. Actually, she could. She remembered it vividly. It’d been with Jason Brown...right before he’d announced he’d fallen in love with his leading lady, the one he’d ended up marrying a few months later. Proof positive that everyone made mistakes, including her. But this one would haunt Wes for the rest of his life.

  She woke up the next morning wondering how he was doing. Probably still panicked, but it was hard to feel sorry for him as she pulled into Landon Farms. By the light of day the acreage reminded her of a bright green flag, one rolling in the wind. From the vantage point of the entrance it was easy to see how it angled down to the coastline. She couldn’t see the house or the barn, but she could tell the place had to be worth a small fortune. The fencing alone must have cost a pretty penny. No wooden fence posts for Landon Farms. She’d been given the pass code last night. The iron gate made to look like crashing waves didn’t make a sound as it swung back. Jillian’s mouth dropped open in awe.

  Granite stonework covered the front of the barn, and really, it wasn’t just a barn but an elegant riding stable with an opening in the middle that she realized was an arena. Natalie would kill for a place like this, Jillian thought. What horse person in their right mind wouldn’t want an equestrian facility like this?

  Wes’s home was tucked out back, around one of the small hills that cupped the valley. The single-story dwelling couldn’t be seen from the barns, which meant it had its own scenic view of the mountains that stretched up from the coastline.

  She heard the baby crying the moment she slipped out of her compact car. Oh, dear.

  “Shh, shh, shh, shh.” She heard him croon. “It’s okay. I know you miss that miserable piece of you-know-what who claims to be your mommy, but I’m it for now, kiddo.”

  She didn’t bother knocking. He wouldn’t have heard over the baby’s wails anyway. Cowboy was tucked near one of the bay windows at the back of the house, head between his paws, as if he were trying to cover his ears. The family room was right in front of the door, kitchen to her right, bedrooms beyond that. He appeared to be pacing between the kitchen and the family room, and he swung to face her when she entered.

  “You look terrible,” she said.

  “I’ve been up all night. Well, not all night. I dozed off for a half hour or so, but then I woke up in a panic, terrified I’d dropped the baby. I kept doing that all night.”

  “I can tell.” Because Wes Landon, the man who’d ridden a young gelding so confidently it’d been putty in his hands, appeared utterly and completely confounded by the young child in his arms. His eyes all but screamed the word help.

  “Here,” she said, holding out her hands. “I have some experience with this.”

  Her college job had been at a day care. She’d loved working with little kids nearly as much as she’d loved working with animals. “Come here, precious,” she cooed.

  He handed the baby to her as if it were a foreign object. “I got her to stop crying last night, but this morning? Nada. Zip. Zilch.”

  “I see you tried changing her.” The poor thing’s legs dangled down, the snaps that ran down the front of the onesie misaligned.

  “I did change her, not that it helped.”

  “She’s wet,” she announced as she placed the child over her shoulder.

  “How could she be? I just changed her a half hour ago.”

  His frustration was so evident she nearly laughed, even though the situation really wasn’t funny. “They frequently pee after you change them.”

  “Says who?”

  “The lady who owned the day care where I worked.”

  His expression suddenly resembled that of a man who stared at the holy grail.

  “Thank God you know what to do.” He turned to a pink bag sitting on the counter that ringed the kitchen area. “Do you have any idea how to roll them up in this?” He picked up the baby blanket. “Every time I do it, the darn thing comes undone.”

  She actually did laugh then. “I do. But let’s change her first.”

  It amazed her how quickly it all came back as Jillian placed the baby on a blanket on the ground, the little girl’s red face and watering eyes tugging at her heart. She
’d always loved children, but she’d never have any. First there was the problem of needing a man, and these days, that was a long shot. Then there were the other little problems. Her vocation, which took her all over the place, sometimes for weeks at a time, not to mention her deep-rooted fear of loving something that much for the rest of her life. It would kill her if something happened.

  “You’re a pro,” he said.

  “Like riding a bike.” When she finished, she motioned for the blanket. “Let’s wrap her up and see if that helps. My boss used to swear that newborns needed the pressure of the blanket around them until they grew used to their arms and legs swinging free.”

  She glanced up in time to see him nod. In a matter of minutes she had little Maggie bundled up, and Wes warming a bottle. Five minutes after that, all was quiet.

  “You’re a godsend.”

  She looked up from feeding the little girl. “I’m just well trained. You’d be amazed how many diapers I’ve changed in my life.”

  She smiled. He did, too, and something in his eyes changed, a something that caused them to go soft and made her look away. What was with her?

  “Have you heard from the mom?”

  As a buzzkill, it worked like a charm. The green eyes so like Maggie’s flashed. He shook his head. “I’ve tried calling, but I swear she dumped Maggie here on purpose, probably so she could go out and party somewhere.”

  “But you’re pretty sure she’s yours?”

  His eyes had gone from soft to serious. “It’s possible, Jillian. I’m not going to lie.”

  And it scared him. It would scare the crap out of her, too. She couldn’t imagine suddenly discovering she was pregnant. Honestly, she’d have a nervous breakdown.

  “You’ll make a great father.”

  He wore a green shirt, one with dark blue stripes in a checkered pattern, the cotton fabric matching his eyes. His blond hair looked as if he’d brushed his hand through it a dozen times or more. He sat in a chair opposite her, but she noticed his jeans had spots on them, from the baby formula no doubt, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep. Still drop-dead gorgeous, but exhausted.