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“Sometimes,” Shep answered warily.
“Well, think about how Manuel must feel.”
To Shep’s surprise, when he held Manuel in the crook of his arm and closed the back door of the truck, the little boy reached toward Raina.
“Do you think she can do a better job of making you feel better?” Shep asked, half serious, half joking.
Manuel stared at his dad for a few seconds, then reached for Raina again.
Shep shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“This has nothing to do with your ability to take care of him,” Raina assured him as she cuddled Manuel close and let the baby lay his head against her hair.
“There’s a basic difference between men and women,” Shep decided. “That’s what this is all about.”
“And that difference is?” Raina asked, not sure she wanted to know.
“Women are softer. Men are harder. It’s a matter of comfort.”
Raina couldn’t help but hide a smile as she followed Shep up the porch steps to the front door and into the house.
A ceiling fan hummed in the large living room and tempered the noise coming from beyond. Raina caught a glimpse of a colorful sofa, its covering stamped with rodeo cowboys and horses. Black wrought-iron lamps and comfortable-looking side chairs complemented the casual decor. Sand art on the wall appeared to be hand-crafted, as did the mandala over the sofa and the blue pottery painted with gray wolves high on the bookcase. The big flat-screen TV was a focal point in the room.
Manuel tucked his face into her neck and she snuggled him closer. She liked the feel of a baby in her arms. Once she’d hoped a child would be a possibility. But so many possibilities had died on September eleventh, along with her husband.
At first, she’d thought about him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Memories still popped up now and then without her summoning them. But time was taking its toll, and life went on, whether she grieved and remembered or not. Life had swept her along with it, and she’d stopped resisting its force, though a deep ache was always there.
As they neared the kitchen, loud boys’ chatter turned into more of a shouting match. Six-year-old Roy and eight-year-old Joey were coloring at a large rectangular pedestal table. But Joey was now drawing on Roy’s picture, and in retaliation Roy was drawing on Joey’s.
They were pointing fingers and making accusations while a woman in her fifties, with white-blond spiked hair and long dangling earrings stirred a pot on the stove and firmly called their names. “Roy. Joey. Stop squabbling. You don’t want your dad to come in and hear you.”
“Dad’s too busy to hear us,” Joey said defiantly, his dark brown eyes snapping in his mocha-skinned face.
Roy nudged his brother’s shoulder. “Dad don’t want us to fight.”
“We’re not fighting,” Joey declared, making another mark on Roy’s paper. “We’re just drawing.”
“Drawing very loudly,” Shep admonished them as he stepped through the doorway into the kitchen. “Eva, shouldn’t they be helping you get supper ready?”
“We did help her,” they both chimed in unison, running to him for a hug.
“Oh, I just bet you did.”
Suddenly Joey looked around Shep and saw Raina. “What are you doing here? Did she come to do something to Manuel or to me or Roy?”
Raina couldn’t imagine what they thought she’d do. She’d examined Joey when he had a sinus infection, but that had been about the extent of it.
“Why is she carrying Manuel?” Joey wanted to know.
Raina suddenly wondered if any parent could answer all of the questions a child might ask in one day.
“Dr. Gibson came home with me to make sure Manuel feels okay,” Shep responded, and quickly introduced her to his housekeeper, who had kind, hazel eyes.
“The doctor came home with you so you can spend time with us,” Roy decided, looking happy at that idea.
From their exchange Raina guessed Manuel’s earaches had shifted most of Shep’s attention to him, and the older boys didn’t like it.
“Supper in fifteen minutes,” Eva called. “Boys, you’d better wash up.”
Their heads swung to Shep almost in unison, and he nodded. “Do what Eva said.”
But before they ran off to the bathroom, Roy studied Raina again. “Are you staying for supper? We’re having chili. Eva doesn’t make it so hot, ’cause I don’t like it that way.”
Raina laughed. “I don’t know if I’m staying.”
“We’d like you to,” Shep said quietly.
Eva added, her eyes twinkling, “I made plenty.”
She really hadn’t intended to stay and share a meal. Sharing a meal formed a…bond. But with little Manuel clinging to her, Roy looking at her hopefully, Joey studying her a little suspiciously and Shep standing only a few feet from her, giving off signals that he wanted her to stay, she agreed. “All right. Thanks for the invitation. My mom makes chili, too, and I don’t like it too hot, either.”
At that, Roy grinned and ran off with his brother to wash up.
Manuel cuddled against her, looking up at her with big brown eyes. “How do you feel, little one?” she asked gently.
He reached for her chin, and when his fingers made contact he said, “Rocky, rocky.”
Raina looked to Shep for an explanation. He was watching Manuel’s fingers on her skin. He was looking at her lips. She felt hot and cold, and much too interested in what Shep was thinking right now.
Eva explained, “When Manuel first came here, all he wanted Shep to do was to rock him in the big rocking chair in the living room.”
Raina bought her attention back to Manuel’s words. “I suppose he’s associated rocking with comfort. I can do that.”
“I can hold dinner longer, but the boys are going to get their hands dirty again,” Eva warned.
“There’s a solution,” Shep assured her. “I’ll bring the rocker to the table.”
“She still won’t be able to eat if she’s rocking Manuel.”
Since Raina would rather talk with than be talked about, she assured them, “I can rock and eat at the same time. It might get a little messy, but maybe I can get Manuel to drink.”
Eva nudged Shep’s shoulder. “I can see why you brought her along. She’s on top of things.”
“I’ll say she is,” Shep said, looking at her almost as if he didn’t want to be looking at her. The same way she knew she shouldn’t be looking at him?
Dinner was a rowdy meal, as the boys dipped corn bread into their chili and talked with their mouths full. Roy told Raina about his bus ride that morning and afternoon. Joey talked, mostly about Roy—but not about himself.
After supper, the boys helped Eva clean off the table and Raina was impressed. “I could never get my brother to do that unless I bribed him.”
“Your brother’s the police officer, right?” Shep asked.
“Don’t tell him I told you about the bribing. I’ll never live it down.”
“Rumor has it he’s a good detective.”
She knew small towns listened to the rumor mill more than cable news channels.
Thoughts of Sagebrush’s gossip line faded as Manuel stirred. She brought her head down to his and whispered close to his ear, “You’re such a good little boy.”
He looked up at her as if he’d heard every word, and gave her a smile.
Shep was sitting next to her in a high-backed wooden chair that looked like an antique. He leaned closer to her. “Whispering words of wisdom in his ear?”
With Shep’s face so close to hers, she became breathless when she gazed at his lips. “Just some positive reinforcement. You can do that for him anytime.”
“I’ll remember that,” Shep returned in a low, husky voice, then leaned away.
To distract herself from the magnetic pull Shep exuded, she complimented Eva on her chili, as well as on the corn bread, the coleslaw and the ginger cookies she’d baked for dessert.
Suddenly Shep stood. “Okay, boys. How about if you go get ready for bed? Morning comes a lot quicker when you have to go to school.”
Roy’s “Aw, do we have to?” and Joey’s quick look at Raina had Shep arching a brow. “I’m going to get Manuel changed into pj’s, too. I want you two finished by the time I’m done.”
Both boys mumbled, “Yes, sir,” slid last peeks at Raina, then scrambled off.
After they were gone, Eva said to Raina, “They find toys to play with and forget to put their pajamas on. I’ll go up and make sure they don’t get too sidetracked.”
“Thanks,” Shep called to her, and Raina could see he meant it.
“I guess it’s time to put those eardrops in,” Shep said with a frown. “Is there a right way and a wrong way?” he asked Raina.
“If we coax him to lay on his side, that will make it easier.”
Shep motioned through the doorway to the living room. “Let’s go to the playroom. I set up a changing table in there.”
Raina wasn’t used to being around a man who put kids first. Gina’s fiancé, Logan, did. He’d had to. But Raina didn’t know Logan all that well yet.
Shep took Manuel from her, his large hands grazing her midriff as he securely took hold of the little boy. She was surprised by her body’s startled awareness of the man’s touch. Her cheeks flushed and she felt oddly off-balance.
Shep looked down at her, their gazes locking for a few intense moments. Neither of them said anything as Shep carried Manuel, and Raina followed him to the playroom.
They passed what looked like a guest bedroom, then entered a bright, sunny room with yellow walls. There were two long, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the backyard and smaller ones in a row on the other side.
“Was this once a porch?” she asked.
“Yes, it was. I closed it in, put a smaller porch on this entrance and fenced in the yard.”
“Did you do it yourself?” If he did, she was curious why. He could have hired an entire crew! Now she really was curious about him.
“A contractor did most of the work on the ranch for me. I wanted it restored rather than razed and rebuilt. But I did this. I learned to work with my hands early on. I like building things. I guess that’s why I bought the lumberyard, so I could help other people do it.”
He took Manuel over to a dark wood chest with a changing table on top. The room had been furnished with kids in mind—a couple of royal blue beanbag chairs, a game table with stools, cupboards and shelves that held toys—everything from remote-controlled vehicles to drawing sets. This room created a pang of longing in Raina, a pang she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Clark had wanted children badly. So had she.
“What are you thinking about?” Shep asked her.
With that question, Raina knew he could be a perceptive man. But she didn’t share her private thoughts very easily. “I was just thinking about parents and kids. When did you know you wanted to adopt?”
As he undressed Manuel, Shep seemed to consider her question very carefully. “I knew about foster care firsthand. I grew up in the system. It wasn’t pretty. Once I got a start in life and learned how to make money, I had a goal—to find a place I could turn into a real home for kids, kids who needed a family as much as they needed a roof over their heads.”
Shep set Manuel’s shirt aside, but it began to slip from the table. Raina caught it. Closer to Shep now, she could almost feel the powerful vibrations emanating from his tall, hard body. She sensed he was all muscle, all cowboy, silent much of the time, only revealing himself when he chose or had to.
“Why Sagebrush?” she asked.
“Why not Sagebrush?” he responded with a quick grin that she realized he used to disarm anyone who maybe got too close. That grin had the power to make butterflies jump in her stomach. She hadn’t felt that sensation for so long she almost didn’t recognize it. But when she felt a burning heat crawling up her neck again, she knew exactly what it was. Attraction. She’d been fighting it ever since she’d met Shep McGraw.
Concentrating on their conversation, she took a quick breath. “This isn’t an area of Texas most people think about when they want to move somewhere. I just wondered how you landed here.”
Shep helped Manuel into a pajama shirt covered with horseshoes. The toddler yawned widely as Shep concentrated on the tiny buttons, his fingers fumbling with them.
“My father came from Sagebrush. He died when I was four. Then my mother and I moved to California. So you might say I just returned to my roots.”
Raina knew she should back away from Shep and his story, which was bound to deepen her awareness and sympathy. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone. She’d lost her husband in the most awful of ways, and the aftermath had been heart-wrenching. Moving on had been an almost insurmountable task. But she had gone on. She was past tragedy. And she wanted to keep it that way.
Still, she was so intrigued by a cowboy who could run a ranch and a lumberyard, yet change a diaper, too. Trying to be as tactful as she could, she asked, “And you lost your mom, too?”
“Yeah, I did.”
When Shep didn’t say more, Raina moved a step closer to him. “I’m sorry.”
Stilling, he peered down at her. He was so much taller than she was. The blue of his eyes darkened until she felt a tremble up her spine.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice husky and low. “Everything that happened to me back then made me who I am now.”
Who was Shep McGraw, beyond a rancher and a dad? Did she even want to find out? Wasn’t that why she had accepted his invitation tonight?
The moment was broken when Manuel began kicking his legs and reached his arms out to Shep. “Up, Daddy, up.”
Shep broke eye contact and concentrated on the little boy. “Not yet. Let’s get you changed so we can put your eardrops in.”
“Dwops?” Manuel repeated.
“I left them on the kitchen counter,” Shep told Raina. “Would you mind getting them?”
No, she didn’t mind. She felt as if she needed a breather from him and the obvious love he felt for his sons.
A few minutes later Raina distracted Manuel as Shep squeezed in the drops. Both of them seemed to be going out of their way not to get too close, not to let their fingers touch, not to let their eyes meet.
Footsteps suddenly thundered down the stairs. “Dad! Dad!” Roy and Joey called as they ran through the living room towards the playroom.
