Karen Smith - The Cowboy's Secret Baby

She let thoughts like that occupy her as she approached the ranch house. It was three stories, but judging by the small windows in the two dormers, that third story could be an attic, she supposed. A wide porch surrounded the first floor on three sides. The banisters were freshly painted white. The light gray siding and black shutters also looked new. Even the steps leading up to the porch were a shiny gray. The landscaping around the steps looked as if it was in the process of a makeover, though young shrubs were positioned along the home’s foundation, and the beds appeared newly mulched. She just caught a glimpse of the pasture beyond and a few horses running there.

“Horses, buddy. What do you think of that?” Marissa asked her son.

His answer was “Mmm, momma momma momma.”

She smiled as she parked.

It was time to pretend she was confident, self-assured and totally self-reliant. She climbed out of the car, unhooked Jordan from his car seat and hiked him into her arms. Then she managed to snag the diaper bag, which went with her everywhere. After she ran up the porch steps, she rang the doorbell. She could smell the newly painted wood.

When the door opened, she expected to see Ty. But instead an older man with a weathered face appeared. Eli Conroy, she assumed. His hair receded from his forehead and gray laced the brown there as it did on his beard. He wore overalls and a plaid shirt and didn’t look any too happy to see her.

“I guess you’re Marissa,” he said. “You’re early.”

Automatically she glanced at her watch. She couldn’t be more than ten minutes early.

“I never know how long it will take to get Jordan and his necessities together. So I always try to start out sooner than I need to.”

Eli Conroy looked her up and down, then his expression seemed to gentle as his eyes fell on Jordan.

“Come on in.” He beckoned her through the living room into the kitchen. “Ty should be here any minute. He got tied up with a problem at one of the guest cabins and is getting a shower.”

All of a sudden Marissa heard movement beyond the archway on the left side of the kitchen. Then she heard Ty’s voice. “That new shower works great, Unc. Don’t tell me you don’t like to just be able to step in there and—”

“She’s here early,” Eli said, motioning to Marissa.

Marissa felt totally dumbfounded. Not because Ty had appeared in the kitchen, but because he’d appeared in the kitchen shirtless with his hair still wet and with a few drops of water clinging to his curling chest hair. She knew her eyes were glued to him, but she couldn’t seem to look away. When she did manage to avert her gaze, her eyes collided with his and caught. Two years rolled back. She recalled running her fingers through that chest hair, inhaling deep breaths of his masculine scent, melding with him until she didn’t know where she began or he ended.

Eli cleared his throat, took a step forward and held his arms out to Jordan.

“Will you come to me?” he asked gruffly.

Memories of Ty and their night together scattered as all of her concern focused on Jordan. Eli was a stranger to him. Would her son cry?

But he didn’t cry. He leaned forward and Eli took him. Jordan reached for Eli’s beard and took it in his fist, giggling.

Eli chuckled, too.

Ty’s eyebrows quirked up and he grinned. “Not just anybody takes to Uncle Eli. Jordan must be a good judge of character.”

Eli harrumphed. “I can take Jordan on a little tour of the porch. Maybe you should show Marissa here that old high chair and see if it’s suitable for this young’un.”

“I can do that,” Ty agreed. He touched her elbow. “It’s upstairs. I pulled it down from the attic and cleaned it up last night.”

Marissa was about to say that she could unfasten Jordan’s car seat and bring that in for him to sit in, but there was something in Ty’s look that said he wanted her to see this high chair.

She followed him through the living room to the staircase there. Even barefoot Ty was still a good six inches taller than she was. She glanced over her shoulder at her son and saw he was babbling to Eli. That was a good sign, she supposed.

As she climbed the steps behind Ty, her gaze kept wandering to his broad back, his strong spine, his muscled arms. It seemed awkward, this silence between her and Ty. So she asked, “Did you say your uncle has a new shower?”

At the top of the stairs, Ty turned toward her to wait until she reached the landing.

“When we decided to make renovations, I wanted Uncle Eli to have a bedroom and shower downstairs so when his arthritis was bothering him, he didn’t have to climb the steps. That little suite seems to be the one thing he likes about this whole Cozy C makeover. It’s convenient for him and I don’t have to worry about him falling on the stairs.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Jase and his father did something similar. That way he and Sara have an apartment on the second floor.”

“You’re close to them?” Ty asked.

“They’re good friends.”

He gave her a long studying look and led her down the hardwood floors of the hallway to the last bedroom on the left.

“This is sort of a storage room, so don’t expect a lot of order. One of the neighbors, Hannah Johnson, comes in, cleans and leaves casseroles in the freezer for Eli. He grumbles about it because she only takes a pittance. But she’s a widow and says she needs something to do since her husband died.”

“That’s kind of her,” Marissa said, but she wondered if there was more behind it. Maybe this Hannah was sweet on Eli?

When Ty opened the door to the room, a stale smell wafted out. Apparently they didn’t open the windows much in here. There wasn’t a bed. Boxes were stacked here and there, and in the corner by the closet, she spotted the high chair.

“It’s solid maple,” Ty explained. “Eli made it for me when I was a baby. Apparently my mother would bring me to visit him a few weeks in the summer.”

“Eli used to do woodworking?”

“A long time back. Arthritis in his hands has kept him from it for the past decade.”

Crossing to the high chair, she ran her hands over the smooth, glossy wood. It had a beautiful grain. Even the tray was wood. It smelled of lemon polish.

“It’s beautiful, Ty. It seems to be a perfect size for Jordan.”

They were standing very close, Ty’s bare arm brushing hers. He said, “I don’t have much ready for my son yet, but I will.”

“Babies have a lot of paraphernalia, but they really don’t need much,” she murmured.

“You’ll have to tell me what kind of food to buy, what kind of diapers, that kind of thing,” Ty said in a low voice, not taking his eyes from her face.

She couldn’t seem to look away from him, either. “Why do you think you’ll need all that?” she asked, her heart beating very fast. Just what did he have in mind?

“When I bring Jordan here to stay—”

She cut him off. “I can’t be away from him for long periods of time. As it is, he’s in day care all day. If you just visit him at my apartment, won’t that be enough?” After all, this was Ty Conroy. When he wasn’t rodeoing, he met his friends for a beer in a sports bar like the Black Boot.

“Look, Marissa, my life has changed drastically. Now Jordan’s going to be a part of it. We’ll work this out. But he’s going to spend time here with me and Uncle Eli. The Cozy C could be his someday.”

She knew she made a little sound of surprise.

“We have to think ahead now,” he said. “Maybe you’ve just been living day to day, but that’s going to change.”

Confusion stole through Marissa’s heart. She liked to think of herself as flexible. But when it came to Jordan, she didn’t know how flexible she could be.