Karen Smith - The Cowboy's Secret Baby

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

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.”

“I wanted to have it sided or something more permanent, but Unc wouldn’t hear of that.”

“Did you say you won the biggest purse of your life the night of the accident?”

“Accident is a nice way of putting it,” he said wryly. “But yes, I did, and most of the other winnings I’d socked away in the bank. After all, I didn’t have many expenses on the road, or much I wanted to buy. When I was recuperating, I put most of it into building up the Cozy C and paying back taxes. Unc didn’t tell me he was in trouble before that, or I would have helped sooner. He can be stubborn.”

She cleared her throat. “And his nephew didn’t inherit that fine quality.”

Now Ty laughed and reached to open the barn door.

When she passed by him up the step into the barn, Jordan reached out and grabbed her cotton blouse. His little fist clamped on her sleeve. Her hand reached for Jordan’s at the same time Ty’s did. As their skin touched, Marissa felt a tremble the whole way through her body. Something about Ty Conroy shook her up, attracted her, made her feel so much like a woman.

She dropped her hand as Ty gently pried Jordan’s fingers away from her sleeve.

“He likes me close by,” she commented, trying to hide her reaction to Ty.

“He’s not the only one.” Ty’s voice was low, almost a thought rather than a statement. He went on to say, “You always smell so good.”

She tried not to take in his scent along with the smells of new wood, hay and horses. She didn’t know what to say so she said nothing and moved forward.

The barn was part new, part old. Some of the stall doors were new lumber. Others were worn, dark and well grained. She noticed an enclosure that appeared new. The door stood open and she glimpsed tack inside.

“It looks as if you’ve done a lot of repairs and made some changes.”

“We never had a tack room before, but we need one now if we’re going to take parties out on trail rides. I have to go into town or to an auction and pick up new saddles.”

“So many details.”

“You bet. The guest cabins are almost finished. I mostly have just staining to do there.”

She motioned around the barn. “Did you do some of this work yourself?”

“I did. I often worked construction jobs in between rodeo gigs when there was a time lag.”

Marissa thought about how long Ty had been bull riding, the places he’d seen and the people he’d met. She tried not to think about the women he’d met.

“You’ve been all over the country, and I’ve never been out of California,” she mused aloud.

“Do you want to get out of California?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

She had once dreamed of visiting faraway places. But that was before she’d become a mom. “I like Fawn Grove. It’s always been my home. But I would like to see some sights other than photos on my smartphone.”

Jordan was leaning toward the horses, and Ty walked over to one of the stalls. “I imagine you’d like Jordan to see them, too.”