скачать книгу бесплатно
“It’s coming together. Uncle Eli wasn’t 100 percent on board at the beginning, but I think that’s changing. I sure hope it is.”
“So your uncle doesn’t want to turn the Cozy C into a dude ranch?” she asked with an amused smile.
“We’re calling it a vacation ranch,” Ty corrected her with a wink.
“I see.” She was still looking a bit amused and her eyes were twinkling.
She was so darn pretty. But he wasn’t here to talk about the ranch, and he wasn’t here to flirt. “I won’t hold you up. I know you’re busy.”
Now that twinkle was gone from her eyes. In fact, he thought he could see fear there. What was she afraid of?
“Uncle Eli wants to meet Jordan, and I want to spend some time with him. How about coming to the ranch for dinner tonight?”
* * *
As Marissa drove her six-year-old small sedan down the winding road that led to the Cozy C, she noticed the fresh-laid stones crunching under her tires. She also spotted new fence posts along the fence line that ran by the side of the road.
Jordan rattled the plastic play keys that were attached to his car seat.
“We’re almost there, buddy.”
Those butterflies in her stomach seemed to be doing the salsa the closer she got to the ranch. She’d known she had to attend this dinner tonight. It was only fair. But what was going to happen next? That’s what those butterflies were all about.
Ty had said he wanted to spend time with his son. Did he mean just tonight? Or was he talking more long-term than that? Just the thought of seeing him again made her palms sweat. She took a couple of deep breaths warning herself to calm down. She wouldn’t want to hyperventilate in front of his uncle—or in front of Ty for that matter.
The lodgepole pines, fir trees and aspens gave the ranch a look similar to Raintree Winery. She’d never had wide-open spaces around when she was a kid. She’d been unaware of what gardens could do for a property or how wildflowers just made one want to sigh and relax. She was fortunate to work at Raintree, and she realized how fortunate Ty was that he could renovate the Cozy C with his uncle. He had family that mattered and a place that mattered. Did he realize how important that was?
Spotting a truckload of lumber covered loosely by a tarp, she realized some construction was still going on here. Just when would the Cozy C open for guests?
She let thoughts like that occupy her as she approached the ranch house. It was three stories, but judging by the small windows in the two dormers, that third story could be an attic, she supposed. A wide porch surrounded the first floor on three sides. The banisters were freshly painted white. The light gray siding and black shutters also looked new. Even the steps leading up to the porch were a shiny gray. The landscaping around the steps looked as if it was in the process of a makeover, though young shrubs were positioned along the home’s foundation, and the beds appeared newly mulched. She just caught a glimpse of the pasture beyond and a few horses running there.
“Horses, buddy. What do you think of that?” Marissa asked her son.
His answer was “Mmm, momma momma momma.”
She smiled as she parked.
It was time to pretend she was confident, self-assured and totally self-reliant. She climbed out of the car, unhooked Jordan from his car seat and hiked him into her arms. Then she managed to snag the diaper bag, which went with her everywhere. After she ran up the porch steps, she rang the doorbell. She could smell the newly painted wood.
When the door opened, she expected to see Ty. But instead an older man with a weathered face appeared. Eli Conroy, she assumed. His hair receded from his forehead and gray laced the brown there as it did on his beard. He wore overalls and a plaid shirt and didn’t look any too happy to see her.
“I guess you’re Marissa,” he said. “You’re early.”
Automatically she glanced at her watch. She couldn’t be more than ten minutes early.
“I never know how long it will take to get Jordan and his necessities together. So I always try to start out sooner than I need to.”
Eli Conroy looked her up and down, then his expression seemed to gentle as his eyes fell on Jordan.
“Come on in.” He beckoned her through the living room into the kitchen. “Ty should be here any minute. He got tied up with a problem at one of the guest cabins and is getting a shower.”
All of a sudden Marissa heard movement beyond the archway on the left side of the kitchen. Then she heard Ty’s voice. “That new shower works great, Unc. Don’t tell me you don’t like to just be able to step in there and—”
“She’s here early,” Eli said, motioning to Marissa.
Marissa felt totally dumbfounded. Not because Ty had appeared in the kitchen, but because he’d appeared in the kitchen shirtless with his hair still wet and with a few drops of water clinging to his curling chest hair. She knew her eyes were glued to him, but she couldn’t seem to look away. When she did manage to avert her gaze, her eyes collided with his and caught. Two years rolled back. She recalled running her fingers through that chest hair, inhaling deep breaths of his masculine scent, melding with him until she didn’t know where she began or he ended.
Eli cleared his throat, took a step forward and held his arms out to Jordan.
“Will you come to me?” he asked gruffly.
Memories of Ty and their night together scattered as all of her concern focused on Jordan. Eli was a stranger to him. Would her son cry?
But he didn’t cry. He leaned forward and Eli took him. Jordan reached for Eli’s beard and took it in his fist, giggling.
Eli chuckled, too.
Ty’s eyebrows quirked up and he grinned. “Not just anybody takes to Uncle Eli. Jordan must be a good judge of character.”
Eli harrumphed. “I can take Jordan on a little tour of the porch. Maybe you should show Marissa here that old high chair and see if it’s suitable for this young’un.”
“I can do that,” Ty agreed. He touched her elbow. “It’s upstairs. I pulled it down from the attic and cleaned it up last night.”
Marissa was about to say that she could unfasten Jordan’s car seat and bring that in for him to sit in, but there was something in Ty’s look that said he wanted her to see this high chair.
She followed him through the living room to the staircase there. Even barefoot Ty was still a good six inches taller than she was. She glanced over her shoulder at her son and saw he was babbling to Eli. That was a good sign, she supposed.
As she climbed the steps behind Ty, her gaze kept wandering to his broad back, his strong spine, his muscled arms. It seemed awkward, this silence between her and Ty. So she asked, “Did you say your uncle has a new shower?”
At the top of the stairs, Ty turned toward her to wait until she reached the landing.
“When we decided to make renovations, I wanted Uncle Eli to have a bedroom and shower downstairs so when his arthritis was bothering him, he didn’t have to climb the steps. That little suite seems to be the one thing he likes about this whole Cozy C makeover. It’s convenient for him and I don’t have to worry about him falling on the stairs.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Jase and his father did something similar. That way he and Sara have an apartment on the second floor.”
“You’re close to them?” Ty asked.
“They’re good friends.”
He gave her a long studying look and led her down the hardwood floors of the hallway to the last bedroom on the left.
“This is sort of a storage room, so don’t expect a lot of order. One of the neighbors, Hannah Johnson, comes in, cleans and leaves casseroles in the freezer for Eli. He grumbles about it because she only takes a pittance. But she’s a widow and says she needs something to do since her husband died.”
“That’s kind of her,” Marissa said, but she wondered if there was more behind it. Maybe this Hannah was sweet on Eli?
When Ty opened the door to the room, a stale smell wafted out. Apparently they didn’t open the windows much in here. There wasn’t a bed. Boxes were stacked here and there, and in the corner by the closet, she spotted the high chair.
“It’s solid maple,” Ty explained. “Eli made it for me when I was a baby. Apparently my mother would bring me to visit him a few weeks in the summer.”
“Eli used to do woodworking?”
“A long time back. Arthritis in his hands has kept him from it for the past decade.”
Crossing to the high chair, she ran her hands over the smooth, glossy wood. It had a beautiful grain. Even the tray was wood. It smelled of lemon polish.
“It’s beautiful, Ty. It seems to be a perfect size for Jordan.”
They were standing very close, Ty’s bare arm brushing hers. He said, “I don’t have much ready for my son yet, but I will.”
“Babies have a lot of paraphernalia, but they really don’t need much,” she murmured.
“You’ll have to tell me what kind of food to buy, what kind of diapers, that kind of thing,” Ty said in a low voice, not taking his eyes from her face.
She couldn’t seem to look away from him, either. “Why do you think you’ll need all that?” she asked, her heart beating very fast. Just what did he have in mind?
“When I bring Jordan here to stay—”
She cut him off. “I can’t be away from him for long periods of time. As it is, he’s in day care all day. If you just visit him at my apartment, won’t that be enough?” After all, this was Ty Conroy. When he wasn’t rodeoing, he met his friends for a beer in a sports bar like the Black Boot.
“Look, Marissa, my life has changed drastically. Now Jordan’s going to be a part of it. We’ll work this out. But he’s going to spend time here with me and Uncle Eli. The Cozy C could be his someday.”
She knew she made a little sound of surprise.
“We have to think ahead now,” he said. “Maybe you’ve just been living day to day, but that’s going to change.”
Confusion stole through Marissa’s heart. She liked to think of herself as flexible. But when it came to Jordan, she didn’t know how flexible she could be.
Ty pushed a few curls away from her cheek. “I’m going to learn how to become a father, Marissa, so I’d like you to try and get used to that idea.”
His callused fingers on her cheek made her insides quiver and her knees even felt a little weak. Or maybe that was because everything was happening so fast. Maybe because seeing Ty in a father’s role wasn’t something she ever expected to do.
Ty stepped back and she felt relieved. When he was that close she had trouble fighting her attraction to him. When he was that close anything could happen.
He hefted up the high chair and nodded to the doorway. She crossed to it, eager to go downstairs and get dinner over with, eager to go back to her apartment with Jordan.
Ty put a shirt on before he came to the table, but all through dinner she couldn’t keep her gaze from flitting to him. Just as she felt his eyes on her. She kept herself busy feeding Jordan. She’d brought along food for him, but also fed him bits of broccoli and the boiled potatoes with butter Eli had made.
After he’d eaten, she started on the barbecued ribs. In between bites, she asked, “What did you use on these? They’re delicious.”
“I make my own rub,” Eli said. “And I do them slow in the oven, basting them often. Ty’s talking about getting one of those smokers, thinks guests might like it. But I like the way I do it.”
“I make my own barbecue sauce,” Marissa said. “Is your rub a secret?”
Eli chuckled. “Not so secret. I can jot it down for you.”
When Ty put dessert on the table, Marissa remarked to Eli, “You’re serving a feast.”
“I can’t take credit for the cherry crumble,” Eli told her. “A neighbor made that for us.”
Jordan had smeared his supper from one end of his mouth to the other and got some on his cheek and his nose. She reached out to clean him, but Ty stopped her. “Do you think he’ll let me wipe him?”
“You can try. He doesn’t even let me wipe his face sometimes.”
Ty went to the counter and wet a paper towel. Moments later he was back, making a game of it with Jordan, wiping one cheek and tickling his tummy. Then he wiped the other, making a noise like an airplane while he did it.
Eli leaned close to Marissa. “Sometimes dads have the magic touch.”
She felt as if Ty and Eli were tag-teaming her, trying to convince her of something. She wasn’t sure what that was. That Ty would be a good father? Only time would tell that. Only time and Ty’s commitment to his son.
As she looked at him, she still saw the rakish cowboy who flitted from town to town as if he’d never belonged anywhere.
Could Ty Conroy make a commitment?
That was the question she had to answer before she could let him fully into her son’s life.
Chapter Four (#ulink_e64bf61a-dba3-57cb-859e-40f4b60c4452)
After supper, Ty and his uncle stepped into the living room for a few minutes while Marissa washed Jordan’s hands. Their voices were low and their discussion made her nervous. Were they talking about her and Jordan?
Neither seemed ruffled when they returned to the kitchen. Eli was even smiling.
Ty glanced at her, then ruffled his son’s hair. “Let me take you on a tour of the ranch.”
Supper had gone well, Marissa decided. She didn’t know if she wanted to push her time here further. Yet watching Ty act like a father to his son was fulfilling to witness—his gentleness, his concern, his caring.
She motioned to the dirty dishes. “We should clean up.”
Without hesitation, Eli stepped into the argument. “No need. Since Ty got me that fancy new dishwasher, everything practically cleans itself. Go on. When you get back, you can let me know if anybody would come here for a vacation.”
Ty was already gathering Jordan from the high chair.
“I have his collapsible stroller in the car,” Marissa said. She took it everywhere. Forethought was a mom’s friend.
“We’ll be fine,” Ty assured her, jiggling Jordan a little and making him giggle.
As they walked out onto the porch, he said, “He’s a happy baby, isn’t he?”
“Most of the time. Especially when he gets his way.”
Ty chuckled and descended the steps. As they crossed to the barn, Marissa asked, “How’s your knee?”
He shot her a glance. “I won’t trip and fall with Jordan,” he remarked with a bit of an edge.
“That wasn’t my concern,” she said softly.
He looked away toward the hills in the distance as if he was imagining riding there. “Sometimes I work it too hard,” he admitted. “And that puts me back to using a cane. But there’s so much I want to get finished by the end of the year.”
Seeing that talking about his knee made him uncomfortable, she motioned toward the barn. “It looks good. It’s a wonder what a new coat of paint will do.”
