Brenda Minton - The Bull Rider's Baby

Trish laughed at that. “Well, that isn’t going to keep you warm when the winters are long. You need a husband.”

Keeton nearly groaned because when Trish said “husband” she shot him a look over Sophie’s right shoulder. He shushed the baby and repositioned her. Babies were heavy. He hadn’t realized how heavy a twelve-pound bit of fluff and spit-up could be until he’d spent a full day hauling one around.

“I think I’ll be fine. I’ve got a good furnace.” Sophie answered Trish on the husband issue. “I’ll just grab something off the shelf.”

“All of this hurrying isn’t good for your digestion,” Trish called out, the all-knowing voice of reason and common sense.

“Then I’ll take a pack of those antacids you have behind the counter to go with whatever I buy.”

Keeton pulled his hat down low and grinned at the comeback. One thing about Sophie Cooper, she wasn’t a wallflower. She’d slapped him once, years ago. He shook his head and reached for a jar of baby food because maybe Lucy needed more than bottles. When he got to the register, he’d ask Trish.

Click click of heels. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Sophie hurried in his direction. With a single step he moved back to the end of the aisle. She stopped in front of the few breakfast items on the shelves, frowning as she surveyed the options.

The baby in his arms whimpered. He bounced her a little, hoping to quiet her down. It had worked last night. He’d spent about an hour swaying back and forth in his living room, wishing he had real furniture and maybe the smarts to tackle his situation a little differently.

Smart would have been not marrying Becka Janson because he felt sorry for her. She’d played him good. She’d found out his winnings, his earnings and how much he’d invested in Jeremy Hightree’s custom motorcycle business and she’d latched on quick. At least he’d been smart enough for a prenup.

The baby in his arms wiggled, squirmed and let out a real cry. Sophie Cooper turned, her hazel eyes widened as she zeroed in on him and the baby. A smile trembled on her lips and her gaze shifted from the baby to him.

He tipped his hat and grinned, knowing charm and good looks weren’t going to mean a thing to the woman standing in front of him. Her attention wasn’t on him anyway. She looked at the baby, the coolness in her eyes softening, warming.

Man, she hadn’t changed much at all. She could still stop a guy in his tracks and make him forget what he wanted to say.

“Keeton West.” Her voice shook a little. “And a baby.”

He held the baby with one arm and cupped the two jars of food in his free hand. He knew his shirt had spit-up smeared on the shoulder and he hadn’t shaved in three days. He couldn’t think of a thing to say that wouldn’t sound ridiculous.

“Me and a baby.” Stupid. Pre-Lucy he would have winked and said something like “It’s been a long time.” Or, “Sophie, you’re as beautiful as ever.”

Instead he jabbered like the infant in his arms and echoed her like a fifteen-year-old with his first crush. Actually, he knew fifteen-year-old boys who would have done better.

If he’d had any sense at all he would have stayed in Broken Arrow. He had a nice little place on the edge of the city. But wanting his family land back—that had been his driving force for as long as he could remember. He needed to remember that was his reason for being here.

One thing stood between him and the biggest portion of that land. Sophie Cooper. She’d bought one hundred acres of land that used to be his family farm.

She smiled at the baby, not at him. “She’s beautiful.”

* * *

Next time Sophie would listen to that little voice that told her to run in and get a breakfast sandwich from the Mad Cow. But no, she’d been in a hurry and thought the local convenience store would be quicker.

Surprise, nothing was ever quick in Dawson. Or easy. People always managed to get in her business. If it wasn’t her family it was one of the locals trying to find out what she’d been up to, or trying to find a way to marry her off.

Today the problem happened to be Keeton West.

She had one hour to get to a meeting in Grove and then she had her other project to work on. And Keeton West had something dripping down the front of his shirt, very close to where it was unbuttoned at the throat. Very close to the silver cross and chain that he wore around his very tan neck.

She cleared her throat and stumbled back to the present. The main thing she didn’t want to discuss with him was land she’d recently bought.

The baby in his arms forced her to act, though. Maybe it had to do with being a Cooper. Or maybe she couldn’t run from biology. Even if she didn’t have children of her own. Was it her imagination or did she hear a very loud clock ticktocking in her ear?

The baby spit up again.

“Keeton, she’s sick.” Sophie grabbed a role of paper towels off the shelf and ripped them open. “Here, sweetie. Oh, that’s awful stuff.”

Keeton West and a baby. She tried to connect dots and couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine him with a child. And yet… She wiped the baby’s chin. The infant had his nose. She had his brother Kade’s nose. The thought ached deep down inside Sophie, in a place that had been broken and empty for a long time. It was the part of her heart that still missed Kade. Or what they might have had.

Pudgy baby arms reached for her and big eyes overflowed with tears that trickled down the little girl’s pink cheeks. Keeton held tight and Sophie put on a smile that said none of this hurt, none of it mattered. She had survived. She’d gotten past the pain of losing Kade. She was whole.

“Thank you.” Keeton’s voice was low and husky, his eyes sought hers. And she couldn’t look at him, not without seeing Kade. The resemblance shook her. The dark hair. The lean, suntanned features. The dark eyes that danced with laughter or smoldered with emotion. Ugh, she was so not able to deal with this.

When she looked at Keeton she remembered the night he pulled the bull rope for Kade. It was just one of the memories they shared. Common ground that she didn’t want to be on today.

“You’re welcome.” She stood there with a handful of smelly paper towels and nowhere to run to. “What are you doing back in town?”

“I’m here to get our land back.”

Oh. Well, she didn’t quite know what to say to that. “I didn’t know you had a baby.”

He grinned, and the ornery leaked back into his brown eyes.

“Yeah, neither did I until a few days ago. Long story but I divorced her mother about a year ago. Or her mother divorced me. And we didn’t see each other again until she showed up on my doorstep with what she called a ‘surprise.’”

“And where’s her mother?”

“On her way to South America with a bull rider she met a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could she say? “What’s her name?”

“Lucy Monroe West.” He smiled down at the little girl. “And I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do with her.”

“You do what you’re doing. Hold her. Feed her. Love her.”

“And what do I feed her?” He shrugged a little and looked from Sophie to the baby. “I mean, food? Milk?”

“Formula.” Sophie reached for a box. “She’s little, Keeton. No food. Not yet.”

“Right, formula in a bottle.” He juggled the baby and the stuff he’d picked up, putting baby food back on the shelf.

Sophie wanted to take the baby. And she didn’t want to take her. She couldn’t get involved, not with Keeton. That would be a mistake. It would be stepping back into the past. She was thirty-five. She didn’t have time for the past.

She had a present to worry about. Her life today filled with too many matchmakers, not enough single men, work and her own projects. Life.