скачать книгу бесплатно
She hadn’t come home once since the day she’d left him alone and brokenhearted at the altar. She hadn’t even bothered to attend her own grandmother’s funeral.
And yet now, for no reason Rowdy could guess, she was here, standing in the middle of the community green with a town function going on around her.
Home.
With a baby.
And for some inexplicable reason, she’d somehow finagled things with Jo so she could buy him at auction before the event had even started.
What was with that?
And the craziest thing of all was that she looked nearly as startled about this whole situation as he felt. As if she didn’t know any more than he did about what was happening.
Which couldn’t be true, since she’d set it all in motion in the first place.
Hadn’t she?
It only remained to be seen as to why. What motive could Ange possibly have to want to see him again?
Or at all.
“I—er—” Ange stammered, shifting from foot to foot and lightly bouncing the baby she cradled in the sling. “What do you mean, what did I do? I didn’t do anything.”
He gritted his teeth to keep from snapping back at her. He could still turn and walk away, and not one person in town would blame him.
She’d come home for a reason, and it couldn’t be anything good. If it was only about selling Granny’s ranch to him, well, he and Ange didn’t have to talk face-to-face for that. Their Realtors could handle all the details regarding the transaction and all he would have to do would be to sign the papers and fork over the funds to make it a done deal.
Or was it more complicated than that?
Was Jo somehow involved? Jo had purposefully forced their sure-to-be-stormy reunion into pretty much the most public arena possible, leaving Ange and Rowdy no choice but to speak to one another with practically everyone in Serendipity looking on.
And then there was the mysterious letter Jo had given Ange—the one she’d immediately shoved into the back pocket of her jeans.
What was up with that?
Maybe Jo thought Rowdy and Ange ought to bury the hatchet, so to speak, although maybe that wasn’t the best metaphor to use in this particular situation.
As if he’d listen to anything Ange had to say. She’d ripped his heart to shreds. A reconciliation between the two of them was never going to happen.
Full stop.
Not a relationship. Not a friendship. Nor even acquaintances, as far as he was concerned.
He didn’t think he’d ever be able to completely forgive Ange for what she’d done, but he had put it all behind him. He’d made his peace and had moved on with his life.
Why dredge it up now?
To be completely honest, Rowdy hadn’t been sure how he would feel if he ever saw Ange again—or if he’d feel anything at all.
Well, now he knew.
And he didn’t like it.
As his past rose to meet him, anger and indignation waged a war in his chest, like dueling pitchforks, parrying back and forth, jabbing sharp points into his heart.
Then he took a breath and the stabbing pains morphed into an ache so deep it left a gaping hole in its wake.
How could merely seeing Ange again so easily stoke to flame all the emotions he’d thought he’d tucked away long ago?
He was an even-keeled man. Not much threw him off-balance one way or the other.
Except for one thing—one person.
Ange had the singular ability to knock him off-kilter.
She’d always been able to do that.
In the past, he’d thought that was a good thing.
Now he knew better.
He remembered his helplessness and hopelessness when he watched her ride off on her horse after their wedding rehearsal—one of the matched set of horses meant for them to depart on after their wedding—leaving him quite literally in the dust.
She hadn’t even had the courtesy to look back and wave goodbye.
And now she’d suddenly returned...why?
Rowdy was desperately attempting to corral the emotions stampeding through him like a herd of wild buffalo with a pack of wolves on their heels. It took all his effort to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t startle the baby.
“What’s the deal here, Ange? Why did you buy me at auction?” he whispered, his voice low and raspy.
Her blue eyes widened, her expression sincerely stunned.
Hurt even.
As if she had the right to be.
“Before I answer that question, I think we’d better take Jo’s suggestion and head back to where the picnic basket is located. It’s not a lot of privacy, but it’ll give us a little more than we have standing here. I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling very comfortable right now with everyone’s eyes on us and all of them listening to every word we say.”
She nodded toward the crowd. True, many had turned back to watch the next bachelor take the stage—the twentysomethings who didn’t remember the night Ange had single-handedly ended her tumultuous relationship with Rowdy.
But there were a few furtive glances and murmurs aimed their direction.
Rowdy shrugged. He wasn’t the one who needed to feel uncomfortable. He hadn’t done anything wrong. If some of the older townsfolk had long memories, that wasn’t on him.
Still, he nodded in agreement and followed her to a bench well out of the main stream of the celebration, where a festive picnic basket bedecked with baby blue pastel ribbons was waiting for hungry picnickers—which Rowdy wasn’t. His gut felt like lead.
An infant car seat and a yellow-giraffe-themed diaper bag covered the rest of the bench, marking it out for Rowdy and Ange’s use.
Ange picked up the car seat and set it aside on the ground next to the bench, and then did the same thing for the diaper bag, gesturing for him to sit in the space she’d opened.
She remained standing, shifting from foot to foot in a slow, rhythmic rocking motion as she pressed a kiss to the forehead of the infant she was holding in her arms.
“Okay,” she said, blowing out a breath. “I have no idea what just happened back there. Though I expect Jo might be able to answer that question, eventually.”
“You aren’t the one behind this—whatever this is? You didn’t buy me behind everyone’s back?”
“Absolutely not. Why would I do that? I only came to town to settle Granny’s estate.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her, no matter how adamant her refusal. And though he didn’t like it, the way she’d worded her statement about not wanting to buy him stung his ego.
“Well, you didn’t bother to come to Granny Frances’s funeral.” He knew it sounded like an accusation, and maybe it was. “So I have to ask myself why you would suddenly show up now.”
Pain flashed across her gaze and she shifted her eyes away from him.
“I couldn’t come,” she murmured.
He waited for more of an explanation, but none appeared to be forthcoming.
“Can you hold the baby for a minute while I set things up?” she asked, pressing the infant into the crook of his arm before waiting for his answer.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure,” he said, seconds after the fact.
He shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to hold a baby—at least a human infant—and he felt like an awkward giant made of all thumbs. His gut churned.
He was used to bottle-feeding little lambs, and this tiny bundle of humanity lying in the crook of his arm was a whole other thing entirely.
“His name is Toby.” Ange’s rich alto was warm and filled with pride and wonder when she spoke of her son. “Toby Francis, after Granny.”
Rowdy pushed the pastel green receiving blanket off the baby’s forehead so he could see his face better, and a jolt of realization slashed through him.
Toby was...
Ange hadn’t said...
“Yes,” she affirmed in a whisper, reading the recognition in his eyes. “Toby has Down syndrome.”
Rowdy’s throat tightened. He was even less familiar with Down syndrome than he was with babies in general, but while this little guy was alert he wasn’t fussy, and after a moment, Rowdy’s heart calmed.
“He’s beautiful,” he said, and meant it.
Rowdy brushed a finger over Toby’s silky white-blond hair, a shade lighter than his mother’s. His almond-shaped blue eyes had popped open at the sound of Rowdy’s deep voice and were now staring up at him with interest. The little guy’s mouth was nearly wide enough to fit his entire tiny fist, and he was loudly sucking on his knuckles.
Ange’s eyes widened at Rowdy’s compliment, as if she didn’t hear kind remarks very often. And maybe she didn’t. People were strange when it came to anything or anyone different than they were.
Special needs freaked some people out, but it didn’t bother Rowdy. As far as he was concerned, all humans carried the same dignity because they were made in the image of God. Different was beautiful.
She smiled sincerely, apparently satisfied that he meant what he said.
Rowdy always meant what he said.
“I know, right?” she whispered after a moment. “He’s such a sweetheart. The biggest blessing in my life.”
As little as Rowdy knew about babies, his being a perennial bachelor, he knew enough to realize infants were a challenge for any new mama or daddy, even the experienced ones. He’d watched all of his friends get married and have babies, and seen their slow adjustments to the learning curve called parenting.
Rowdy’s closest friend, Danny Lockhart, complained nonstop about having to stay up all night with a fussy infant who had her days and nights mixed up—and then in the next breath he’d proudly show her off, forgetting whatever trials he faced at two o’clock in the morning.
So it seemed strange to Rowdy that Ange would choose to return to Serendipity, where she had no real support as a single mother. Her parents had moved away long ago, not that they were ever terribly supportive of her. And he doubted, given the past, that Ange had many friends here, either, as horrible as that was to think.
Was Toby’s father in the picture?
If so, where was he? Holding down the fort in Denver while Ange visited Serendipity?
She didn’t have a ring on her finger. Rowdy didn’t have much use for men who didn’t marry the woman they intended to start a family with.
But that was a discussion for another time.
Rowdy had so many questions that he didn’t even know where to begin.
As Ange prepared the picnic lunch, Rowdy studied her face. The telltale dark circles under her eyes and the lines of stress creasing her brow suggested her life hadn’t been easy on her.
She looked older than her twenty-nine years, but she was nonetheless beautiful enough to make Rowdy’s stomach flip as he attempted to rein in the physical attraction he’d always felt toward her.
That much, at least, hadn’t changed. He’d always seen the inherent beauty in her that she didn’t see when she looked in the mirror.
But it was the only thing that hadn’t changed. And he had no idea what she saw when she looked in the mirror these days.
“How’s Toby doing?” she asked as she popped the top on a can of Rowdy’s favorite soda.
“Sleeping again. He’s really cute. Still sucking his fist, even when he’s napping.”
Ange handed Rowdy the soda and took Toby into her arms, landing a soft kiss on his cheek before gently placing him in his car seat so she and Rowdy would have their hands free to eat.
“Still your favorite?” she asked, gesturing toward his soda can.
He lifted the can in salute. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
Another flash of pain crossed her gaze. “I remember a lot, if truth be told.”
So did he.
And he really, really wished he didn’t. Because with every unexpected glimpse into their past, every unanticipated memory, it became harder and harder to catch a breath.
He hadn’t been ready to see Ange again.
And he wasn’t sure he ever would be.
Chapter Two (#u707c1b19-c88e-552e-ade6-35c85b03ac24)
