Colton Family Showdown

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They’d walked a full circle and came up to his house from the far side. He had a brick patio outfitted with an ironwork table and chairs under a pergola and a big grill off to the side. She was surprised to see a playset in the grass nearby until she remembered his mention of a niece. So maybe he wasn’t really afraid of children in general.

She held Baby John while he unlocked the back door, and they went upstairs. Having changed the baby’s diaper, the little guy wasn’t quite ready to sleep. Cradling him against her shoulder, she returned to the main room to find Fox staring out the window.

“If you want to go down to the office, I’ll join you when he’s asleep.”

“You think he’ll sleep in the truck?” he asked. “He’s been quiet for two trips so far. We should go out and take care of your car, pick up your things and then the baby stuff, too.”

“That would be fantastic if you’re sure we have the time.”

“We have the time.” He picked up his jacket but didn’t put it on.

They were locking up the front door when she realized her keys weren’t in her pocket. Dang it. This oversight wouldn’t help her prove herself as a competent and efficient caregiver and assistant. “I left my car keys upstairs.”

“No problem.” Fox reached out and took the baby. “Go on and grab them,” he said. “I’ll load him up.”

On a quick apology, she dashed up the stairs and hurried back down again. Fox was walking along, talking to the baby boy in his arms about the sky and trees and the grass.

“Ready,” she said.

Fox swiveled around and her breath caught. He and Baby John made a picture, the sunlight bathing both of them in a healthy glow. He was sinfully handsome with a sharp mind, a kind heart and gentle, capable hands.

She’d spent so much time focused on her independence she’d ruthlessly pruned all fantasies of domestic bliss from her imagination. But this? This vision could become her ideal. Not the specific pair in front of her—she wasn’t foolish enough to set her sights on this particular man and the baby that wasn’t his. She’d come here for a mentor. Better to keep things professional on that front. It had to be the generalities putting this unexpected flutter in her belly.

“We survived an entire minute without crying,” Fox said, a lopsided grin on his face. “I think he’d give you an A+ for teaching skills.”

“As long as you’re more comfortable with him, that’s the real win.” She shoved her hands into her pockets and wrapped her fingers around the car keys before walking over and opening the back door of the truck.

“I’ll let you load him in.” Fox handed her the baby and pulled the cotton blanket from his shoulder, revealing evidence of a productive baby burp. “Just let me grab a clean shirt.”

She smiled to herself as he strode back inside the house.

Fox couldn’t help noticing how effortlessly Kelsey managed everything the baby needed. It was hard not to resent her efficiency, even though that was exactly why he’d hired her. “You make it all look so easy,” he said.

She glanced at him as he put the truck into gear and the flash of confusion in her hazel eyes quickly gave way to amusement. “Practice,” she informed him. “That’s all.”

He liked her calm composure and her gentle, warm approach with the baby. And the horses. He wasn’t looking for her to aim that generous spirit or those wide beautiful eyes at him personally. She was here to do a job. He couldn’t trust himself with a baby, despite the assistance of the internet. It was highly unlikely, if he scared off Kelsey, that another capable nanny would wander up to the house.

Making a decision on the fly was a rare thing for him. He prided himself on thinking things through, exploring all the angles. But last night, he’d gone with his gut and it seemed to be the right call. Only time would tell if she held up to the breeding work, as well.

“Have you done any breeding?” he asked.

She sputtered and her pretty mouth dropped open and snapped closed again as she stared at him. “Beg pardon?”

He replayed the last few seconds in his mind and smothered a curse. “Horse breeding,” he clarified, his face reddening. “Have you done any fieldwork with horse breeding?”

She toyed with the cuff of her jacket. “Only with the big animal veterinarians in college,” she replied. “Most of my recent experience is in the lab, analyzing data, writing up reports.”

“What about not-so-recent experience?”

She twisted in the seat to check on the baby, giving him a big, cheesy smile, but Fox sensed she was stalling. Then again, reading people wasn’t his strong suit.

“I grew up on a working farm in a remote area north of here,” she replied, facing forward again.

If only that narrowed it down. There were miles of remote areas north of the Crooked C ranch. He would’ve pressed, but it seemed rude, since clearly she wanted to drop the subject.

He followed her directions to her car and checked the odometer when they finally found it. “You walked nearly eight miles yesterday?” The Avalanche Killer was still out there doing heinous things.

“I caught a ride for most of the way,” she said with casual ease. “Worth it since I’m working with the famous Fox Colton.”

As a nanny. Which, having reviewed her background again this morning, was a position for which she was vastly overqualified. He’d make it up to her, starting with her car. He trailed behind her as she opened the trunk of a faded blue compact sedan that had seen better days. “We’ll load up your things and then I’ll—”

She slammed the trunk lid, frowned and leaned all her weight on it in a hard push until the latch caught. “Got it.” She smiled. “It’s finicky.”

“Where’s the rest?” He watched her sling a leather computer bag over her shoulder and roll a large wheeled hard-sided suitcase toward the back of his truck. He jumped into action, lowering the tailgate to load the suitcase into the truck bed. She wisely carried her computer to the cab and tucked it behind her seat.

“That’s...everything?” She was thirty years old. Shouldn’t there be boxes or books or gear of some kind?

“Yes. This is it.” Her mouth pulled to the side. “Don’t be so shocked. I’ve lived in dorms and guest quarters for several years now.”

“But—” He’d been in college, worked a few internships along the way. Having stuff was counterintuitive to being comfortable in tight quarters. Still, he’d never traveled this lightly and he was a man.

“You’d be surprised how much I can fit into that suitcase. Less stuff makes it easier to move when I have to.”

“Sure.” Her situation prior to her employment with him was none of his business. “You’re right.” He backed away from her, resisting the strange urge to right some unseen wrong. He took pictures of her car and license plate and called the garage in town.

Once he’d arranged for the tow truck, he gave his phone number and authorized the shop to charge the repairs to his account. He gave the car one more hard study before climbing back into the truck. Might be better to sell it for parts if Kelsey was willing. With what he intended to pay her, she could buy a vehicle better suited to the ranch and the rugged Colorado terrain.

He turned toward town, eager to put her car in the rearview until he remembered their next stop wasn’t the office, but the baby store. “You can use one of the ranch trucks while they fix your car,” he said.

“That’s really generous,” she replied. “I appreciate it.”

“I gave the garage my phone number.”

“Oh, I should have thought of that.”

“It’s not like you won’t be within reach when they call.” His palms itched at another poor choice of words. Admittedly, his new assistant and nanny had a sweet and wholesome beauty. Although they’d be working closely, she couldn’t be within his literal reach. The wayward thoughts only proved he’d gone too long without a date. Forget the sex—the lack of dating let him fall out of the practice of having a casual, appropriate conversation with a woman.

“Did you bring the nursery list?” he asked. “I still can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s on my phone,” she replied. “I promise to make it as painless as possible. With the right things on hand, it will be so much easier to care for Baby John. Do you have a budget in mind? Some things on my list are handy, not necessities.”

“Whatever he needs,” Fox said. “Whatever you want. Don’t worry about the money.”

“That’s not the only factor.”

He rolled his shoulders, but the tight muscles wouldn’t loosen. Why would someone drop this kid at his door? “Like you said, I can pass on the gear to the real father when we find him.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What does that mean?” he demanded as he pulled into a parking space in front of the store. “I’m not good at this.”

“Talking?” she queried.

“Yeah.” It was at the top of the list of things he handled poorly.

Her auburn eyebrows, several shades darker than her hair, scrunched up when she frowned. It was pretty cute instead of intimidating. He should not be noticing those details and he absolutely shouldn’t be charmed by them.

“You’re great at talking. I’ve seen videos of your lectures.”

“I can talk horses and genetics until people pass out from boredom. People themselves, small talk and all the rest of it, I’d rather avoid,” he confessed.

“Wow.” She blinked several times. “That’s... Wow.”

He decided he didn’t want any clarification on the “wow.” “I’m overtired and overwhelmed.” He took a deep breath. “Like I said, don’t worry about the budget. Let’s just get in there, do what needs done and get back to the ranch.”

She straightened her shoulders so abruptly he thought she might give him a salute. “Count on me.”

He carried Baby John in the car seat, hoping that would make it easier for her to gather what she deemed necessary for baby care. He sure didn’t know the difference between one type of bottle and another or the benefit of zipper pajamas over the ones with a thousand snaps.

The last time he’d been this close to baby gear was when his sister had been expecting. For Wyatt and Bailey, he’d shopped online and had the gift and a gift card delivered to their house. He’d never thought he’d be bringing baby gear into his home.

He followed Kelsey through the store section by section as she added items to the cart. This wasn’t at all how he’d shop for a baby, given the choice. This wasn’t how he’d do anything, actually. He preferred to research, skim consumer reviews and dig deep into product testing and results. After several minutes of watching her, he realized she wasn’t just shopping according to her list. She seemed to be mentally going through her anticipation of Baby John’s day. She chose more bottles, similar to what had been dropped off with him. She found diapers in his size and picked up a box of the next size up. They had a quick debate about the convenience and necessity of a changing table. He finally agreed because it looked like the shelves would be a good place to stow the baby’s supplies.

Cruising through the bedding options, she turned to him. “I don’t think you should invest in a real crib and he’s too big for a cradle.”

“You want to keep him in the hay bin?”

“No.” She drew out the word and then her rosy lips pursed. “I’m thinking one of these things.”

He belatedly realized they were standing in front of a display of portable cribs that boasted all sorts of features and colors. He wanted to cover his eyes or run away.

“It’s safe, removes the hassle of assembling a real crib and we can take it to and from the office. Also saves you money and a potential fight later.”

“Fight?” What the hell was she talking about?

“Well, the safe bet is that someday your wife will want to decorate a nursery without hand-me-downs.”

“I’m not married.” Wives typically expected children and he had no intention of taking that leap.

Kelsey cocked her head. “Not now. I just...”

He latched onto the more immediate concern of having the baby in the office. “Get two,” he said brusquely. “One for the nursery and one for the office. We’ll get tired of packing up that thing and hauling it up and down the stairs.”

Her lips parted and closed. “Okay. Do you have a color preference?”

“Lady’s choice.”

“All right.”

As she turned around to study the options, he studied the mass of glossy, rose-gold hair that was twisted into a bun and secured just above the column of her neck. Her skin reminded him of sweet cream. He yanked his gaze back to the chubby-cheeked baby.

Kelsey chose two sales tags from the display and moved on without another word. Surely they had enough by now. He was wrong. She paused in an aisle filled with bright colors and happy babies pictured in and around various bath seats. What fresh hell would he be asked about now?

To his immense relief, she made her choice without quizzing him. She selected towels and washcloths, soap and lotion. He saw a hooded towel with a goofy horse face and added it to the cart. She didn’t notice.

“Do you have a rocking chair?” she asked as they walked by a row of over twenty rockers in various colors and fabrics and styles.

“If you count the one on the porch,” he said. “I can clean it up for you.”

“That works. Thanks.”

He noticed the way her hand lovingly caressed a glider with simple curves in a clear, walnut stain. It reminded him of an antique bentwood rocker, despite the bold daisy-print cushions.

“Bailey obsessed about the rocker in her nursery,” he said. He spotted a glossy white finish with a jungle-print fabric. “I think that’s the one she chose.”

Kelsey reached over and tucked the baby’s pacifier back into his mouth. “Bailey?”

“My sister-in-law,” Fox said. “She delivered their son two days ago. Hudson Earl Colton.”

“A stately name.” Kelsey smiled up at him.

He hadn’t thought of it that way before. “It is. Earl is in honor of our grandfather.”

She nodded, her gaze clouding over before she looked away. “Most moms spend hours in these.”

“Not nannies?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Depends on the client,” she said. “And the age of the child.” She moved on, apparently unconcerned about rocking chairs now that she knew he had one.

Fox plucked the tag from the rocker she’d admired and followed in her wake. At last they seemed to be done, just as the baby started fussing.

“You’ve got this?” Kelsey asked, lifting the baby from the seat.

He nodded, and she carried the baby and the diaper bag away. He worked with the checkout clerk, somehow surviving the constant stream of happy chatter. “These too,” he said, handing over the tags for the portable cribs, a changing table and the rocking chair.

“One for Grandma’s house, right? That’s smart.”

He didn’t bother to correct her. “Thanks.” His parents were long dead and he’d never thought of Mara as grandma material, though she happily doted on the grandchildren she had.

His eyes nearly crossed when the register displayed the final total as he pulled the credit card from his wallet.