The Bronc Rider's Baby. Judy Duarte

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      “Monday at four o’clock. They told me it’s just to check her weight.”

      “Would you like me to meet you there?” she asked.

      Hell, he’d love to have someone go with him—anyone. But did he really want that to be a social worker?

      What if the baby hadn’t gained any weight? What if Anna thought Jessie would be better off living with someone else?

      Kenny might be locked up, but he had some sketchy family members, and maybe one of them would try to gain custody. From what Nate had heard, several of them had done time for various crimes such as assault, drunk and disorderly conduct or driving while under the influence.

      “That’s nice of you to offer,” he said, “but it’s not necessary.”

      When Anna didn’t respond, he stole a peek at her, saw her forehead creased ever so slightly.

      Hoping she didn’t think he was skirting her, he added, “It’s not that I don’t want you to come. You can certainly meet me there if you want to.”

      “We’ll see how my day goes,” she said. “I’m usually off by four o’clock—unless something comes up.”

      They continued to walk along the lawn-flanked path to the corral where he’d been working with that new gelding a few minutes ago.

      “So how are you doing?” Anna asked.

      Him? He was nervous as hell and afraid he’d drop little Jessie or do something wrong. He also hadn’t been able to sleep worth a damn because he kept waking up to check on her and make sure she was still breathing. But he didn’t want to reveal any sign of weakness, so he chuckled and made light of it. “Me? I’m fine as frog’s hair.”

      She laughed at his response. The lilt of her voice was enough to make him relax for the first time since she’d arrived. “Now, that’s cute.”

      He hadn’t meant to be cute. Was she a big-city girl laughing at his country ways? “It’s just a saying I picked up from one of the retired cowboys who lives here.”

      She shifted slightly as if trying to avoid the sunlight from shining in her eyes. “Today, while I had lunch in the hospital cafeteria with a coworker, your name came up.”

      So much for relaxing around her. Why had his name come up? Had they been discussing him—and his case?

      “One of the aides said you used to be a patient, that you had a run-in with a wild horse. And one of the cowboys mentioned you were involved in the rodeo.”

      He’d been more than involved. He’d actually made a name for himself—until his injury. And until the doctor’s diagnosis brought about a real reckoning on many levels. “I’ve still got friends who’re on the circuit, but I gave it up.”

      “Why?”

      Did it really matter? He shrugged a single shoulder. “I had more than a little ‘run-in’ with a bronc last year, and the doctors said I couldn’t ride anymore. So I landed this job.”

      Her brow scrunched. “That sounds like a big change of pace.”

      It had been a huge change. And a real blow to his ego. Giving up the rodeo had been tough because, if he wasn’t a star or a champion, who was he? But if there was one thing he’d learned to do in life it was to roll with whatever punches fate dealt him.

      “I’ve adjusted,” he said. “Besides, working as the assistant foreman on the Rocking C pays the bills.”

      “So you rode broncs when you were on the circuit?” Anna asked.

      Nate had never been one to toot his own horn, so he didn’t mention the buckles he’d won. Instead, he just nodded and said, “Yep.”

      “No wonder you seemed so competent working with that gelding.”

      Horses, broken or not, he could handle. It was only little babies that made him uneasy.

      And pretty social workers.

      He shot a glance her way. Damn, she was attractive. And in spite of his better judgment, he was drawn to her. Her floral scent—gardenia maybe?—snaked around him and seemed to hold him captive. Just walking next to her was a pleasure.

      But Anna Reynolds wasn’t like the buckle bunnies who’d once hovered around him, hoping for a date, a kiss or...a whole lot more. She wasn’t here to flirt or...whatever. She had a job to do—and possibly an assessment to make.

      “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked, hoping she’d cut to the chase and he could get his mind back on his work. “Is there a problem?”

      “No, not that I see so far.”

      “Then why are you here?”

      “It’s my job to check up on you and the baby. Would it be easier for you if I came back in the evening next time?”

      “Actually, this isn’t a bad time. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was...” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I was just a little surprised to see you this afternoon. That’s all.”

      She blessed him with a pretty smile, one that he’d be thrilled to see if they’d met in a bar or honky-tonk, like the Stagecoach Inn. But could he trust that she didn’t have any ulterior motives, other than to answer his questions and help him adjust to fatherhood? He’d been in the foster care system. He knew better than to take kindness at face value. Maybe he ought to try a little charm on her, knock her a little off balance.

      “It’s nice of you to come all the way out here to check on us,” he said, adding a carefree smile that was more fake than real.

      “I’m just doing my job. Do you have any questions for me? Not just about babies, but about the social services available to you?”

      He had plenty of questions. And the longer he was around little Jessie, the more he seemed to have. Like how much formula should she be taking at one time? Or why did it take so long to get a burp out of her? And was she going through too many diapers?

      Instead, he said, “There’s a nurse on duty at the ranch at all times, as well as the housekeeper. So they’ve been very helpful.” In fact, they were far more capable of caring for a baby than he was.

      Not that he expected Joy, Shannon and the other women to do it all for him. He hadn’t left Jessie completely in their care. Hell, he practically hovered over her whenever he was in the house.

      When Anna didn’t smile or appear to be the least bit relieved by his admission, he added, “You don’t need to worry.” Especially about me. “We’re doing fine.”

      “I’m sorry, Mr. Gallagher. I’m a little confused. I realized you mentioned staying here for a while—before taking her home. But do you have a place of your own?”

      Did it matter? What was she really asking? Did she want to know if he could financially support a baby? Or was she worried that he wasn’t able to provide a home for her?

      “I СКАЧАТЬ