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“That’s quite a group of siblings,” Jackie mused. “Twenty-eight, sixteen, fourteen, and four months.”
“Almost twenty-nine,” Dixon corrected. “I’ll be twenty-nine this month.”
Jackie beamed. “Yes. My two Christmas gifts. I found out about your sister on the nineteenth, the day before your twenty-eighth birthday.” She laughed. “I thought they were going to tell me I had cancer. They told me I was pregnant!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, sincerely puzzled.
She sighed. “I guess I was afraid you’d say what everyone else did, that having her was foolish. Harry and I were going to bring her together to meet you as soon as she was born and able to travel, but then...” She bowed her head. “God had other plans.” She looked up once more and said, “You do think I was foolish to have her, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Greg would probably agree with you.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dixon repeated more firmly.
“Your grandparents would certainly agree.” She chuckled sourly. “That would probably be the first time Greg and your grandparents agreed on anything.”
“No one has said you were foolish to have Bella,” Dixon told her.
“Well, I don’t care,” she went on as if he hadn’t even spoken, her fingertips brushing over Bella’s tiny foot. Dixon realized that the baby had dropped off to sleep while they were talking. “She’s worth it. You’re both worth it.”
Feeling eerily as if his mother had somehow slipped away, Dixon murmured that he was going up to the attic for some things they might need. Tossing aside a dish towel, Fawn asked if she could help. He wanted to wave her away, but he doubted he could move down the necessary items alone.
Nodding, he led the way to the game room and pulled down the hinged attic ladder. It was the one feature from the garage that he had elected to leave in place. After climbing the ladder, he switched on the attic light and went straight to the farthest corner. Fawn scrambled up after him. The white crib, with its yellow and green trim, stood collapsed against the wall, with the metal spring platform behind it and the mattress, wrapped in plastic, in front.
“What do you think?”
“That’s good,” Fawn said. “Bella can’t sleep in her carrier for long.”
They moved all three pieces to the hole in the floor then let each one down.
He got some rags while Fawn located an appropriate cleaner, and together they wiped down everything. As they worked, he considered what to do next. Obviously, he couldn’t put his ill mother and baby sister out in the cold, but he worried that he didn’t know the whole story yet, and he feared that Jackie might resent his father and vice versa.
Over the years, every time anything about his mother had come up, his dad had always quickly changed the subject. Not once had he expressed an opinion or a thought about her, though the man had to feel something for her. They were once married, after all, and had a child together. Dixon assumed that Greg’s feelings for Jackie were mixed at best and most likely negative, given that few divorced couples thought highly of each other. Jackie, on the other hand, might well resent Greg and Lucinda’s successful marriage and family, which could lead to some truly appalling episodes.
The best course at present seemed simply to say nothing to his father about his mother’s presence. After Christmas—if Jackie stayed around that long, because Dixon had his doubts on that score—he would decide what to tell his father. They saw each other almost every day at work so it wasn’t like Greg dropped by the ranch very often. Dixon reasoned that he’d surely know more about the situation by Christmas and know better what was what. He accepted that she was ill, even seriously ill, but she couldn’t be actively dying. Could she?
Meanwhile, there was a baby in the house, and someone had to make sure that she had everything she needed. That included the best possible care. If it just so happened that care came in the best-looking package he’d ever seen, who was he to complain?
“If Jackie’s as ill as you say, should Bella be in Jackie’s room?” Dixon asked.
“Jackie’s her mother,” Fawn replied simply, “and we have a baby monitor, so whenever Bella wakes, I hear her.”
That made sense, especially if Fawn slept in Dixon’s old room, which he had vacated long ago. First, he’d moved to his mother’s old room. Then, after his grandfather’s death, he’d remodeled the master suite and moved in there.
He and Fawn carried the crib into the front bedroom, the one nearest the living room. Jackie used to complain about the noise, but since he’d moved the television into the game room, it should be quieter. Now, with a baby in the house, he was glad of that.
When he went back through the living room into the game room for the metal bedspring, Fawn followed and took up the mattress, which weighed next to nothing. They carried both back to the bedroom. Then Dixon ran to the storage room behind the carport for tools. He was bolting the metal spring platform into the center of the crib frame when he asked Fawn why she was doing all this.
“She’s my friend,” Fawn answered simply, tearing the protective plastic from the mattress. “My coworker. What was I supposed to do when her husband died and she fell so very ill?”
“What about your job?”
Fawn shrugged. “I can always find another job waiting tables.”
“That’s what you do, wait tables?”
“That’s what I do right now.”
“How do you plan to manage in the meantime?”
“I have a little income from my late parents’ estate, and my sister and grandmother will help as needed. That’s where Jackie and Bella have been until now, with us at my grandmother’s.”
Dixon stopped what he was doing. “I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t want you to know until Bella was born.”
Did she really think he’d have tried to talk her out of having the baby? She didn’t know her own son very well. He shook his head and went back to work. “Can you hold up that corner over there?”
Fawn did as asked, keeping the platform level until he had the other three corners securely bolted in place. He set the fourth bolt and tightened everything down then took out his pliers.
“There’s some sag in the middle, but I think I can tighten it up. How’s that mattress?”
“Seems fine.”
“Doubt we can find any crib sheets.”
“I can make a twin work.”
“Those are in my old room.”
“I’ll find them.” She nodded toward the dresser, adding, “I suppose we should move that down and set the crib in the corner.”
“Seems right. You get the sheet. I’ll move everything.”
She didn’t argue, just went out to do as he’d directed. He couldn’t help watching her. She moved with more grace and ease than any woman he knew. And he was mooning over her like a twelve-year-old.
Irritated with himself, he removed a few drawers, then picked up a suitcase and set it on the bed before sliding the dresser down the wall. As he was putting back the drawers, he accidentally knocked the suitcase off the bed. The top of the hard case popped open, and several items spilled out. One was a small, thick photo album. He put everything back inside and placed the suitcase back on the bed, but then he picked up the photo album and opened it.
The very first picture was that of a tiny, scrunched-up infant tucked into a large Christmas stocking. That had to be him. The next page was a more formal photo, labeled, “Six Mos.” He wore a tiny suit of baby blue with short pants and satin shoes. The page opposite was a picture of Bella Jo, looking like a doll in frilly pink. He saw it then, the family resemblance, though she had more hair and looked smaller, younger. His sister.
His grandmother had been quick to point out that Bass and Phillip were his half brothers, but he wondered if she would feel the same about Bella. He hoped she wouldn’t, but he didn’t know. He loved Bass and Phil. He supposed he would love Bella, too. She was a sweet little thing. He wondered who she’d take more after, Jackie or Harry.
He hoped it was Harry. Then he wondered what Fawn would think of that. And just the fact that he might care about her opinion made him wish that he’d never laid eyes on the dark-haired beauty.
Chapter Four (#ue7056940-6668-57ed-a224-d6854caee1d9)
Nothing more was said about their leaving. Or staying. Fawn thought about pressing Dixon for clarification on the matter, but after he set up the crib, he made himself scarce for the rest of the evening. Exhausted, Jackie followed the baby to bed shortly after 8:00 p.m., but Fawn watched television until Bella woke at ten for a bottle. As usual, the baby woke again about five in the morning and went right back to sleep after her bottle, but Fawn always found sleep elusive after that early-morning feeding. After making coffee, she sat down at the kitchen table with her Bible and daily devotional.
She had just finished reading when Dixon walked in. Freshly shaved, he looked younger and strikingly handsome. He went straight to the coffeepot and took down an insulated travel mug from the cabinet above it.
“You’re up early.”
“Your sister likes breakfast early.”
“Let me guess who fixed the bottle.”
“Bella can’t fix her own.”
He filled the mug and screwed the top onto it before turning to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “My mother is so unwell she can’t manage a bottle of formula?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee, his gaze carefully averted. Then he broke off a banana from a bunch on the counter and began to peel and eat it.
“I’ll gladly make your breakfast,” she offered, starting to rise from her chair.
Waving her back down, he shook his head. “No time.” He went to the refrigerator, took a packaged sandwich out of a box in the freezer and carried it to the microwave. A minute later he tossed the banana peel, plucked the sandwich from the microwave oven and grabbed his travel mug. “Gotta go.”
“You work on Saturday?”
“Yep.”
“Uh, Dixon, I was wondering...”
He paused in the doorway to the mudroom. “Yeah?”
“A Christmas tree for the house would be fun and really cheer up Jackie.”
Shrugging, he turned. “We usually just cut a red cedar. I’ve tried to eradicate them on the range, but there are a few around the house. I really don’t have time for cutting one right now, though.”
“Do you have ornaments?”
“Sure. Up in the attic.”
“Okay. Now, about the fireplace. Jackie loves a fire. Would you mind if I brought in some wood and—”
“Yeah,” he interrupted, “I do. Since it’s a propane fireplace. Just flip the switch on the side of the mantel.”
“Ah.”
“Now, I gotta go.” He turned away.
“One more thing.”
Sighing, he turned back. “Make it quick. I have to doctor an injured cow before I can get to work.”
“How can I reach you? In case of an emergency.”
For a moment he merely glared, but then he barked out ten digits. She whipped out her phone and quickly tapped them in, repeating them aloud. A second later his phone started to ring.
“Now you have my number, too.”
Nodding, he turned and walked into the mudroom, the phone in his hip pocket still ringing. After a moment she tapped the icon that ended the call. She heard him pulling on his outerwear and mere seconds later he left the house. She returned to her chair and sat down to think, then called her sister. Dawn didn’t have any more experience with men than Fawn did, but Grandmother was already at work, and Dawn was far more careful and suspicious of the opposite gender than Fawn. Surely between them they could safely discern Dixon’s likely reactions if Fawn did what she was contemplating.
Dawn answered groggily. “I’m the sister who sleeps in. Remember?”
“Your alarm goes off in five minutes.”
“Then this had better be a five-minute-long conversation.”
Chuckling, Fawn told her twin what Dixon had said about the Christmas tree. Dawn agreed that he, conveniently, hadn’t told Fawn that she couldn’t cut down a tree herself and likely wouldn’t be upset if she spared him the effort.
“Send me a pic when you get it decorated.”
Fawn promised, but privately she was more concerned about pleasing Dixon Lyons. She told herself that it was because he hadn’t committed to taking care of Jackie and Bella yet, but she feared that the reason was more personal, and that frightened her. Was she more her mother’s daughter than she knew? Even when he was being contrary, she liked Dixon. Was she ignoring the warning signs, as her mother must have done with her father? When Dawn’s alarm went off, Fawn felt a sense of relief. If her overprotective sister ever suspected how strongly Fawn was attracted to Dixon, she’d be on the road to War Bonnet within the hour to judge him and the situation for herself.
After changing, feeding, bathing and dressing the baby, then getting her down for her nap and making Jackie comfortable, Fawn found it was late morning before she was able to go out in search of the tree. Thankfully, Dixon didn’t seem to lock anything, and she found the tools she needed, along with a wheelbarrow in the little shed built into the end of the carport. The task was more laborious than she’d imagined, and to make matters worse, the tree fell on her. It wasn’t large enough to do any damage, but cedar needles proved surprisingly sticky and itchy.
Lunch had to be handled and the baby and Jackie seen to again before Fawn could decorate. Desperate for a shower, she worked quickly, getting the tree into the stand in front of the living room window, stringing the multicolored lights, hanging the ornaments and threading wide, wired, red ribbon through the branches. Finding no angel for the top, she used a tinsel star that had seen better days. All in all, she thought it turned out well. Sitting in front of a cheery fire, Jackie seemed to agree.
“That really takes me back. So much has changed around here, but that really takes me back.”
Fawn snapped a picture with her phone and texted it to her sister, then rushed off to shower and change her sticky, itchy clothes just in time to start dinner.
Dixon came in as she was getting the bread ready for the oven. “That smells good.”
“Homemade chicken noodle soup and my grandmother’s biscuits. They’ll take about twenty minutes if you want to shower first.”
“That’ll work. Took care of that stubborn old heifer on my way in.”
“What’s wrong with the heifer?”
“Nasty cut on her rear leg. It’s been stitched, but it doesn’t look good.”
“I can ask my grandmother what she recommends.”
“Your grandmother’s a vet?”
“No, a nurse, but she has a healing way with all living things.”
“Huh.”
She’d seen that skeptical look before, but she made no comment. Neither did he, not then and not after he walked into the living room and pointedly looked at the Christmas tree. In fact, he must’ve noticed it when he’d driven in. The lights would undoubtedly show through the front window, but he simply walked past the fireplace and into the hallway without a single word.
When tears of disappointment sprang to her eyes, Fawn felt like kicking herself. Or him.
* * *
