Название: A Family In Wyoming
Автор: Lynnette Kent
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
isbn: 9781474064279
isbn:
Now feeling a little foolish, Wyatt shifted the doll to the crook of his arm. “Maybe you should rock the baby for a while, Amber. I think that might help her get well.” With a push on the chair arm, he got awkwardly to his feet.
“It’s a him,” Amber said, clambering into the rocker. “Russell.” With a serious, concerned expression, she cradled the doll against her body and offered him the bottle.
“I could use something to drink, myself,” Wyatt said, keeping his voice low. “Coffee, maybe?”
“I’ve just made a fresh pot.” Susannah led the way through the dining room. “Russell was her friend when we lived in Gillette,” she said. “His family had the house next door and the two of them would play together most of the day. That was two years ago, but she still asks about him sometimes.”
“Changes are hard on kids.” Wyatt reached above her head to push open the kitchen door.
“You would know. And I’m afraid, since we’ve moved so often...” she said, walking past him. “But now—” She stopped short, just inside the doorway. “Well, hello, Dylan!”
His brother’s voice came from the kitchen. “Afternoon, Ms. Susannah. How’s your day going?”
Following, Wyatt didn’t stop as quickly, so he bumped into her, knocking her off balance. He put his hands on her narrow waist to steady her. “Sorry about that. You okay?” The world seemed to halt for a moment as he held her. Under his palms, she drew a deep breath and blew it out again.
“Of course. I’m fine.” She stepped out of his hold. “Dylan, what are you doing hanging around the kitchen in the middle of the afternoon?”
Dylan saluted Wyatt with a lift of his coffee cup. Then he refocused his attention on Susannah. “Actually, I’m on a mission—I was sent to find cookies. Garrett said you were baking this morning and the kids were hoping...”
Arms crossed, she eyed him skeptically. “The kids?”
He winked at her. “Of course. Pure altruism on my part.”
“I’m sure.” She nodded toward a plastic container on the counter. “Those are the cookies. All ready for the kids.” Her emphasis on the last two words drew Dylan’s grin.
“I’m sure they will appreciate the effort, and I’ll say thanks in their place.”
Susannah smiled at him. “They’re welcome.”
Still standing by the kitchen door, Wyatt felt very much outside the conversation, as if he wasn’t in the room at all. Dylan had always been a ladies’ man, able to win a smile from females nine years old to ninety. That had never bothered him before. Wyatt wasn’t sure why he resented his brother’s easy charm this afternoon.
“I had a couple of other things to talk over with you, if you’ve got a minute,” Dylan was saying.
“Sure.” Susannah leaned a hip against the counter. “What’s going on?”
Wyatt remembered he’d come in for coffee. Jaw set, he stalked across the kitchen and elbowed his brother away from the machine so he could pour a cup.
Prodded into motion, Dylan joined Susannah by the breakfast bar. “First off, that reporter is gonna show up here tomorrow to interview me. So if you could freshen up the other guest room, that would be great.”
“No problem,” she told him. “But I’ve been wondering, how did this house end up with two guest rooms?”
Wyatt started to answer, but Dylan spoke first. “You and Amber are staying in what used to be my room before I moved into the loft in my studio. Comfortable, isn’t it?”
“Incredibly comfortable. We appreciate you sharing with us.”
“Anytime.” His grin could only be called flirtatious. “Meanwhile, we grown-up types were talking about giving the kids a picnic on Thursday, down at the creek, on the other side of the barn.”
“Where the picnic tables are? That sounds like fun. I’ve walked there with Amber. She wants to play in the water.”
“I imagine they all will. We also thought we’d give them a day off from making their own meals and put you in charge of the food, if you don’t mind. Sandwiches, fruit, that kind of thing. More cookies would be good.” Another of those grins.
And Susannah smiled in response. “I don’t mind at all. I’m glad to help with the camp in any way I can. You’ll want everything ready by noon?”
“Sounds about right. We’ll show up and let the kids carry everything down to the creek. There are a couple of picnic baskets around here somewhere, I believe. And I’m sure we’ve got at least one big water cooler, plus an ice chest or two. Wyatt probably knows where they are. Right, Boss?”
Wyatt cleared his throat. “I do, yes.” He couldn’t believe he sounded so pitiful. “That kind of stuff is stored in the attic. I can bring it all down.”
Dylan frowned at him. “I’m pretty sure climbing ladders is on the list of things you’re not supposed to do for the next few months, along with riding horses. I’ll fetch what we need. In fact, I’ll do that right now.” He set down his mug. “Come on, Susannah. Let’s get this project underway.”
Wyatt stayed where he was, fuming at...well, at the situation, more than anything else. At himself, for getting hurt. At being stuck in the house like an old man. Maybe he wasn’t a kid anymore, but he could hold his own against any of his brothers when it came to ranch chores.
And, yeah, he was ticked off at his youngest brother, though he wasn’t sure why. Dylan was just being himself—easygoing and sociable. His beguiling approach with women had never bothered Wyatt in the past.
Susannah, though... Susannah deserved to be treated with respect and deference. Not that Dylan had been disrespectful, exactly, but sometimes women took his flirting more seriously than he intended. As she recovered from a miserable marriage, she didn’t have to be confused by casual gallantry. Should he say something to Dylan?
Should he warn Susannah?
He couldn’t bring himself to speak to either of them, but in the days following he kept an eye on them when they were together, trying to judge how things were going.
But then the reporter from New York arrived, and Dylan immediately fell head over heels in love with her. Susannah didn’t seem bothered by that obvious fact. When everyone sat on the front porch in the evening to enjoy hand-cranked ice cream, or when they gathered in the living room for a sing-along by the fireplace, Wyatt couldn’t detect any difference between the way she behaved with Dylan and with Garrett or Ford. Or himself.
Which was as it should be. The only way it could be, for Susannah’s sake.
* * *
ONCE SHE’D CLEANED every other space in the house, Susannah had no choice but to tackle Wyatt’s bedroom. Just proposing the idea to him made her palms damp and her throat tight.
“I wondered—” СКАЧАТЬ