The Rancher's Doorstep Baby. Patricia Thayer

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СКАЧАТЬ hung his hat on the rack, and stepped inside the dreary kitchen. Like the outside of the house, the walls needed paint. The linoleum was worn through to the pattern and the cabinet doors needed repair. Despite all that, the room was spotlessly clean.

      At the stove, Rachel turned toward him and smiled. It sent a jolt of awareness through him. He found he’d been looking forward to seeing her. A man could get used to meeting this woman at the end of the day.

      Just not him.

      “Rachel.” He nodded as he made his way to the table set for three.

      After they sat down Rachel spoke. “Cole, I want to thank you for helping me out these past months. It was wrong of me earlier to try to get you to stay on. You have been more than generous with your time.”

      Why did she have to be so nice? “You’re welcome. If there’s anything I can help you with before I leave, let me know.”

      His gaze met hers and a new stirring erupted in his gut. Desire. He could see it mirrored in her eyes, too. He glanced at her breasts, watching the rapid movement of her breathing. His common sense told him to stop, but his hunger wouldn’t let him. At that moment a noise pulled his attention away as Cy came through the back door.

      The old guy ambled to the table. His thin white hair was combed straight back, his face tanned and weathered by years of being in the sun, and his broad smile, causing tiny lines to form around his hazel eyes. On his doctor’s orders, he’d lost weight in the past month and changed his diet.

      He hitched up his too-big jeans. “Well, it looks like I didn’t miss anything.”

      “As if you’d be late for a meal,” Cole murmured, then walked to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of water. He filled the glasses as Rachel set roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and garden-fresh green beans on the table.

      “Darlin’, I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Cy said.

      “Oh, Uncle Cy, you say that no matter what I cook,” Rachel said as he held out her chair.

      “I won’t lie and say I don’t miss your fried chicken and gravy.”

      Rachel smiled. “I’ll try to come up with a way of fixing it so it will be healthy for you.”

      Once everyone was seated, the foreman said the blessing. “Lord, thank you for the food on this table. And for Rachel who takes such good care of us. Amen.” He raised his head and reached for the potatoes. “Now, let’s eat.”

      After serving himself, he passed the bowl to Rachel. “Thank you, Cy, for the kind words. But we all work hard around here.”

      “We get paid,” Cy said, pouring gravy around his plate. “You do so many extra things for everyone. You don’t have to wash my clothes or repair the rips and tears, but you do.”

      “You’ve just lost so much weight. Besides, I like to sew,” she protested.

      “I know,” Cy said. “You make the prettiest quilts in the county. You ought to take ’em to one of the fancy shops in San Angelo.” He glanced at Cole. “I’ve been tellin’ her she’d make a lot of money.”

      She shook her head. “I donate them to the church.”

      The older man frowned. “And they turn around and sell ’em and make all the money. Money you need for yourself.”

      Rachel stole a glance at Cole. He didn’t seem interested in the conversation. But that didn’t stop Cy.

      “You know I worked for your daddy for a lot of years, and he didn’t always treat you fair and square.”

      Rachel felt heat rush to her face. “Father wasn’t in good health and…”

      Cy shook his head. “Stop making excuses for him. He made you and your sister pay for your mother leaving…”

      “Cy…please,” she pleaded.

      “She was your mama, Rachel, and your father drove her away, just as he did Sarah. You got this place to hold together…and you can’t do a dang thing unless you get permission from that city lawyer.” He took a bite of his food. “Thank goodness that’s nearly at an end.”

      Rachel placed her fork on her plate. She didn’t want to argue with Cy. What good would it do? Her mother, father and sister were all gone. She couldn’t change any of that. “I don’t want to talk—” She stopped, then pushed back her chair and got up. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

      Cole fought to keep from going after her. But what could he say to her? He’d known men like Hewitt. He’d grown up with a disapproving parent, too. Nothing he’d done could please the man, so he’d finally stopped trying.

      Cy looked across the table at Cole. “Now, don’t you go lookin’ at me like that.”

      Cole played dumb. “What way is that?”

      “Like I just pulled the wings off a butterfly. That girl needs to rid herself of years of guilt her father hammered into her.” The old man pointed to the doorway. “Have you looked at Rachel? She’s afraid to be a woman ’cause her daddy made her feel ashamed of the fact she is one. I’ve stood back for too long and watched it. But that bastard has been gone for nearly two years and Rachel is still afraid to live. She’s a beautiful woman. Someone needs to make her realize that.”

      Cole didn’t want to hear any more. “I think Rachel needs to worry about surviving, and she’ll do just fine.” He took the last bite of food, then carried his plate to the sink.

      “You’re just saying that so you won’t feel guilty when you leave here.”

      The old man’s words hit home, but he still had to go. “I was hired for the roundup and I’ve stayed on a few extra months.”

      “And I appreciate you taking on my load.”

      “It wasn’t a problem, but now, I’ve got a job waiting for me in San Angelo.”

      Cy didn’t argue the point. He just finished his meal, then carried his plate to the sink. He leaned against the counter and studied Cole. There was no doubt the foreman had something else to say.

      Cole stared the other man down. “All right, are you going to try to get me to stay?”

      “No, you have to decide that for yourself.” The old man gnawed on his lower lip as if choosing his words carefully. “I’m just wondering what you’re running from.”

      Rachel had learned a long time ago that tears didn’t help anything. They hadn’t stopped people she loved from leaving her. Now, she was alone. She had no husband, no family to help her through this rough time. All she had was the ranch, and her own determination to keep it.

      She changed into her nightgown and robe, then went into the bathroom and washed her face. She still needed to clean up the supper dishes.

      Rachel went downstairs and walked through the large living room. The hardwood floors gleamed with polish, but an old rug in front of the barren fireplace was worn, as was СКАЧАТЬ