Harlequin American Romance May 2014 Bundle: One Night in Texas\The Cowboy's Destiny\A Baby for the Doctor\The Bull Rider's Family (60 page)

“You get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“Not my bed,” Colt grunted. “Besides, you snore.”

He lifted a sweat-stained Stetson from a nearby nail, ran a hand through his hair and plopped the hat on his head. The kitchen had been dark and vacant when he’d passed through on his way to the barn. He’d thought about rapping on his bedroom door, rousting the new cook and telling her she was already running late. But he’d lingered in the house only long enough to spoon grounds and pour water into a battered coffeemaker. He’d promised his mom he’d give Emma a chance. If nothing else, he was a man of his word.

Besides, the woman wouldn’t last. Certainly not six months. Heck, he bet she wouldn’t stick around long enough for the next cattle drive. Her slim frame wasn’t made for the heavy workload that came with life on a ranch. The hours she kept were better suited to the big city.

Not that he had checked up on her or anything.

It was only happenstance that he’d noticed how late she’d stayed up last night. It took an entire crew of men, working long days in the blazing heat or the pouring rain, to keep the Circle P in the black. He needed to know the status of every task, every chore, each of the ranch’s thousand head of cattle before Ty and Sarah took off on their vacation. So, after dinner, he and Ty had locked themselves in the office. Midnight had come and gone before they finished. Passing by his old room on his way to Garrett’s, he’d spotted a spill of light seeping under the door and wondered if he should check on their guest.

Had she settled in? Was the bed comfortable? Did she want him to join her in it?

Yeah, like that was gonna happen.

Considering the particular shade of red Emma had turned when he’d offered her his room, she’d more likely slap his face than invite him in. Which was fine by him. Though he wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed the soft curves under her jeans and jacket. She had the kind of wholesome good looks that started a guy thinking of white picket fences. But he had no room in his life for that. Or a kid. Even a cute one like Bree. Not when he spent nine months out of the year traveling from one rodeo venue to another.

Clucking to the big gelding, Colt stepped into the wide aisle between the rows of stalls. Metal jangled as Star tossed his head.

“Easy, boy.” He ran a hand down the horse’s neck.

“Where are we headed today?” Garrett led a brown mare out of a stall.

Thankful for the chance to get his thoughts back on track, Colt resettled his hat. “Thought we’d follow the fence line along Ol’ Man Tompkins’s property. The boys patched one hole. There’s probably others. We need to be on the lookout for his Brahmans, too. They’ve been making a habit of crossing onto the Circle P.”

“Good work for a mornin’.”

In the stillness of the predawn light, horseshoes rang against cedar floorboards that had survived a hundred years, and would probably be around for another century. Leading Star into the yard, Colt sniffed the still air and frowned when he didn’t smell bacon. “I need coffee before we head out. You?”

“Now you’re talkin’. Pregnant women and caffeine don’t mix. I’ve been sneakin’ off to Starbucks ever since the stick turned blue,” Garrett said as they crossed the yard to a hitching post just off the back patio.

“It’ll be worth it when you hold that baby the first time.” Colt clapped a hand on his big brother’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you had it in you, bro.”

“Yeah, well. We have a long way to go yet.”

Colt hiked an eyebrow at the odd remark, but he was too busy surveying the darkened kitchen to give Garrett’s problems much more than a passing thought. Overhead fluorescents buzzed and lit the room when he flipped the switch by the door. The red light on the coffeepot was the only sign of life.

Garrett clapped his hands together. “Looks like we’re on our own this morning.”

While Colt filled a couple of to-go cups and a thermos, his brother pried the lid off a plastic container he found on the counter. “There’s plenty of pound cake. Want a hunk or two?”

Colt rubbed his stomach. What he really wanted was bacon and eggs. Some of his mom’s biscuits. A side of grits. He shook his head. He might have promised to give the new cook a chance, but it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the crew wandered into the house expecting a hearty meal. What would happen then?

Garrett must have sensed his glum mood because he said, “Mom’ll talk to Emma. Make sure she understands we jump on the day a bit earlier than she’s used to.”

Colt stifled a sigh. “I’ll let her slide for today. But mark my words, this’ll be the last time. Can’t expect the men to do a full day’s work on empty bellies.”

He hefted the mugs and headed for the door, his boots leaving dusty prints across the floor. “Let’s ride. I want to be back before the vet gets here this afternoon.” According to Ty, one of their bulls had tangled with barbed wire last week and was acting peculiar. He’d left word with the ranch hands to bring the animal into one of the pens by the barn.

Two hours later, the fence posts checked and a repair to one section noted, Colt sloshed the dregs of cold coffee onto a nearby palmetto bush. A pair of osprey had built their nest in the bleached skeleton of a tree on the Tompkins property. He shaded his eyes, watching as one of the adults dropped a fish to its young. The sounds of the juveniles feeding reminded him that he needed to stop by the kitchen when they got back to make sure the rest of the crew had been fed.

He tugged on Star’s reins, slowing the horse. Garrett pulled up alongside.

“What do we know about this new cook?” Colt asked, pouring fresh coffee from the thermos.

Garrett shrugged. “You know as much as I do. Mom and Dad ate at the restaurant she worked in. They liked her enough to hire her, I guess.”

“That’s another thing.” Colt frowned over coffee too cold to drink. “Did you know about that trip? I haven’t been in touch as often as I should have, but still...you’d think I would have known.”

The osprey took flight, wings flapping as it headed south for another fish. His eyes tracking the bird, Garrett stared into the distance. “They didn’t mention it to me, but then, I’ve been a little preoccupied with Arlene.”

Colt shifted in his saddle. “Much as I’m glad Mom’s going to stay with you for a bit, I hope she changes her mind and comes back to the Circle P soon.”

“Because of one missed breakfast?” Garrett’s head swiveled toward him.

“Nah, it’s more than that.” He dashed the last of his drink on the ground. “That Emma, she’s too pretty. Next thing you know, the ranch hands’ll be spending all their free time in the kitchen.”

“Pretty, huh?”

Colt clamped his lips shut. One more word and he’d be the subject of all too much ribbing from the rest of the Judds. There was no denying the petite brunette had gotten under his skin, but more than her good looks bothered him.

He turned aside, keeping his hands busy tying his mug to his saddle. “We do things different here. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Whatever happens, I hope you’re wrong. Arlene and me, we really need Mom right now.”

At his brother’s tone, the hairs at the back of Colt’s neck stood to attention. He canted his head to get a better look at Garrett’s face, but his brother had pulled his hat low over his eyes. “What’s up?” he asked.

Garrett took a breath so deep his shoulders shuddered. “I didn’t want to get everybody stirred up yesterday. We’d just come back from buryin’ Dad, and the last thing Mom needed was more bad news. But Arlene’s got preeclampsia. They’re having the devil’s own time getting her blood pressure under control. Doc says if she carries the baby to term—and that’s a big
if
—she could have a stroke. Or worse.” His head drooped.

Colt’s chest tightened. What he knew about women and babies wouldn’t fill a feed bucket, but he’d seen cows go down with eclampsia. If a rancher knew about it in time, he called the vet. Even then, everybody had to step mighty lively or they lost both the cow and the calf. His face warmed. Here he’d been bellyaching about skipping a meal when his own brother faced the prospect of losing his wife and unborn child. He pulled himself straighter in his saddle.

Whatever it took, he vowed, he’d do his part to make sure his mom could stay with Garrett and Arlene for as long as she was needed.

Even if it meant putting up with a few hunger pangs.

* * *

F
ROM
SOMEWHERE
NEARBY
, a throaty engine roared to life. Emma slung an arm over her head, but quickly realized she could have saved herself the effort. With no curtains to block it, sunlight seeped beneath her eyelids, invaded her sleep and chased away the image of a dark-haired man whose lips had been created for kissing.

Not that she wanted another man in her life. Or her dreams for that matter. Not at all.

She pried her lids open. Her vision filled with the soft buttery hues of gold and warm cinnamon. Momentarily disoriented, she focused on the smoothly finished wood ceiling, letting awareness of her surroundings gradually seep in, the way she’d done all too often during a rootless childhood.

She was at the Circle P. In Colt’s room. In Colt’s bed.

“Hey, lazybones,” she whispered, skimming a hand over the clean sheets she’d spread across the mattress before putting Bree down for the night.

She smiled, pleased at the way Ty and Sarah’s son Jimmy had taken her daughter under his wing. Despite their age difference, the two had played together long past Bree’s usual bedtime. So long, in fact, that her little girl had fallen asleep before she’d finished her evening snack.

Now, if only
she’d
been able to drift off as quickly, Emma thought.

Truth be told, the fresh linens had done nothing to mask a distinctly masculine scent. It had tickled her nose, stirring an awareness of Colt that had kept her awake far too late after a day behind the wheel and her poorly timed arrival at the ranch. Unable to sleep, she’d sat up half the night, skimming through the Circle P’s cookbook, identifying favorite dishes by their dog-eared pages, by the number of stains and food splotches.

Small wonder, then, that she and Bree had both slept in.

Her fingers reached the end of the mattress without discovering her little girl’s warm, familiar shape. Emma scrambled from the bed.

“Bree?” She scanned the thin blankets. No child-shaped lump hid beneath them.

A hollow spot opened in the pit of her stomach. According to Bree, monsters lived under the bed. Doubting her daughter would hide under one, Emma peered beneath theirs just the same. A light coating of dust and nothing more covered the glossy hardwood. She crossed to the closet and flung open the bifold door. A fresh wave of Colt’s scent wafted out at her. She held her breath and poked through clothes on hangers, boots and a pair of men’s black dress shoes.

No Bree.

Her heart thudding, Emma thrust her legs into the jeans she’d discarded on a chair. She pulled yesterday’s T-shirt over her pajamas and shoved her arms into the sleeves. Her bare feet skimming over polished wood, she padded down the hall.

“Bree,” she called, pausing to look over the railing into the great room. Her gaze swept past inviting leather couches, a scattering of chairs and recliners. Pillows lined the hearth, but Bree hadn’t curled up on one. Her dark curls weren’t bent over Mrs. Wickles in the rocking chair.

Where is she?

Emma raced down the stairs, crossed the great room on a dead run and headed for the kitchen. She skidded into the room, fear lodged in her throat. Spotting a head full of dark curls at the huge trestle table, she drank in a breath of pure relief. She let it out slowly, noting the empty grape stem and slice of toast on a plate.

“Mommy, I saw cowboys. Lots of them. They came in for breakfast.” A milk mustache moved up and down above Bree’s lips. “Mr. Colt and Mr.— What was his name?” She looked across the table at Doris.

“Garrett, honey,” Doris answered. Dressed in jeans and a shirt with Western piping, she looked as at home on the ranch as the cowboys Bree referred to.

Bree’s head bobbed up and down. “Mr. Garrett. They got on horses and went for a ride. Mr. Garrett and Mr. Colt are brothers. Did you know that, Mommy? Jimmy has brothers, too. Tim and Chris. Why don’t I have a brother?” She stopped for a breath.

“Briana Elizabeth Shane, you scared me half to death,” Emma whispered. “You weren’t supposed to leave the room without me.”

Her face all wide-eyed innocence, Bree protested, “But there were cowboys, Mommy!”

A smile flitted across Doris’s lips. “Hard to argue with the child’s logic. Coffee?” She lifted a cup.

“I’ll get it.” Padding past nearly empty pans of sweet rolls and coffee cakes on the counter, Emma frowned. A slice of melon and a couple of strawberries rested in the bottom of an immense bowl. She nibbled on her lower lip.

“Looks like the cavalry came through. Do they usually get started this early?” She stifled a yawn. The restaurants where she’d worked in the past had opened late, and closed in the wee hours of the morning, another reason why the move to Florida had been a good one. But just how early did the day start on the ranch?

Doris waved a hand, dismissive. “I probably shoulda mentioned that. Since I was already up, I threw enough together to keep the boys from starvin’ to death.”

“You couldn’t sleep?”

“Can’t get used to the quiet, I guess.” Doris stretched. “Seth snored like a band saw.” She blotted her eyes.

Emma held her breath, wanting to give the new widow a chance to talk about her husband, but not quite sure what to say about the man she’d barely known. When Doris busied herself brushing a few crumbs from the table, she took it as a sign to pick up the thread of their earlier conversation.

“What time do you usually put breakfast on the table?”

Doris shrugged. “Depends. In the summer, we get an early start because of the heat. A little later in winter. Either way, before the roosters crow. Somewhere between six and seven. There’s a bell out on the patio. I ring it when the food’s ready, and they hustle in.”

Six?
Her internal clock was going to need a serious adjustment.