Stella Bagwell - A Baby on the Ranch

An indulgent smile twisted Katherine’s lips. “Nigel likes most everybody.”

Lonnie chuckled under his breath. “I should have known. And here I thought I’d become a special friend.” He rose to his feet and looked at her questioningly. “Ready to go?”

“Yes. Just let me get my coat.”

She went to a small closet near the front door and pulled out a tan suede coat lined with sheepskin. Before she could shove her arms into the sleeves, Lonnie came up behind her and helped her on with the heavy garment.

The masculine scent of him surrounded her and all sorts of thoughts zinged through her head as his warm fingers inadvertently brushed against her neck.

“It’s mighty cold out there,” he said softly. “You really should pull up your hood.”

“All right,” she murmured in agreement.

He adjusted the hood of her coat onto her head and tied the leather laces beneath her chin. She held her breath as his big hands came close to her face.

“There, now,” he said with a satisfied grin. “That ought to keep you toasty.”

Katherine considered telling him she was a pregnant woman, not a fragile egg that might break at the slightest jar. But she didn’t. It was nice—oh, so nice—to be fussed over. She wanted him to know she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Lonnie.”

He gave her a faint smile and reached for the door. After turning out the overhead light, Katherine followed him onto the landing, and he quickly took her by the arm.

“These steps are dangerous for a woman in your condition. One little misstep and you’d go toppling down. And God only knows what that would do to you.”

The strong band of his fingers could be felt even through the thickness of her coat. She felt herself shiver and knew it wasn’t from the cold wind whistling across the courtyard.

“I’m very careful. I’ve lived in this apartment building ever since I came to Fort Worth. So I’m used to the stairs. And the noise,” she added jokingly.

He glanced at her. “You like living here? In Fort Worth, I mean.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. Sometimes I don’t like the bigness of it, but I do have a good job.”

“You work in the county appraisal office,” he stated.

Her brows lifted in brief surprise and then she seemed to accept that he’d already learned things about her that she’d not expected him to know.

“Yes. I’m secretary to the tax assessor.”

Lonnie hadn’t known that. Only where and what department of the county courthouse she worked in. The news worried him. Not that any of this should be his concern. But if he’d ever had a chance of persuading her to travel to West Texas with him, it had just sunk to the bottom of the lake. The woman obviously wasn’t about to leave a choice job to go off to investigate some wild story about a mother who was already dead anyway.

“That’s good. It must be a relief to know you have a secure job. What with the baby coming and all,” he reasoned.

They reached the bottom steps, and he kept his hand firmly around her arm as he guided her toward a white, club cab, pickup truck. Katherine allowed him to help her into the passenger seat and then he shut the door and skirted the hood to take his place behind the wheel.

While they both buckled their seat belts and he motored the truck out of the parking lot, Katherine thought about her job and the conversation she’d had with Althea this afternoon. There was no doubt she’d been fortunate to land her secretarial position. And when she’d first taken on the job, she’d been living on a cloud. But little by little she’d felt Richard getting close to her. Closer than he should. Not physically. No, he’d always been the perfect gentleman. Yet he didn’t try to hide the fact that he wanted to involve himself with her day-today life, and that made it hard to keep a brisk business manner between them. The whole situation made her job awkward and uncomfortable. She didn’t want any man in her life now. Period.

“Well,” she said in an absent voice. “I don’t think there’s any perfect job.”

He glanced her way, and she frowned at the almost hopeful look on his face.

“You don’t like your job?” he questioned.

Frowning deeper, she shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh. I guess I must have mistakenly gotten that impression.”

He was too intuitive, Katherine thought. No telling what else the man might be picking up from her. Dear Lord, it would be highly embarrassing if he ever realized she found him physically attractive.

“Look, it’s a good job. I’m not getting rich by any means. But it’s more money than I’ve been accustomed to having,” she said, her voice just the teeniest bit cross. “I just wish there were a few things different about it, that’s all. But like you said, a person’s fortunate not to have to worry about their financial security.”

The vents in the dash were blowing lukewarm air. She held her cold hands toward one and worked her stiff fingers.

“It’s grown even colder since this afternoon,” she said. “I hope we’re not in for a long spell of this.”

“The truck should get warmer in a minute or two.” He merged into busy traffic on a four-lane street and reached up to adjust his rearview mirror. “Do you have a special place you like to eat?”

Katherine almost wanted to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out to eat. It just wasn’t the same when a person dined alone.

“No. You choose,” she told him. “I like most anything. Fast food will be fine, if that’s what you like.”

“I don’t like fast anything. Especially my food.”

She surveyed his profile for a few seconds, then cleared her throat and settled back in her seat. She wasn’t about to comment on that remark. Besides, she needed to figure out how she was going to get through this evening without making a fool of herself, and moreover, how she was going to end Sheriff Lonnie Corteen’s pursuit.

A few minutes later he parked at a Mexican restaurant, and they were ushered to a small round table in a corner flanked by a plate glass window on one side and a collection of huge tropical plants on the other. In the middle of the table, a fat red candle flickered inside a glass holder.

Lonnie seated her on the side of the table next to the plants, then took the chair directly opposite her. A waiter appeared almost immediately with fresh guacamole, tortilla chips and tall glasses of ice water. Once he left to give them a few moments to study the menu, Katherine looked around her.

The restaurant was old. The floors were bare, scrubbed wood and the Formica tables and chairs were all different colors and dated back to the fifties, at least. Numerous photos adorned the walls, most of them shots of Fort Worth during its early days as a dusty cattle town. From somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, Tex-Mex music was playing quietly on the radio. At the moment the restaurant was quiet, with only a few other couples scattered across the small room. But Katherine wasn’t surprised at the lack of diners. The bitter weather was keeping most Texans indoors.

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