Rancher's Baby Page 6
Dulcie sighed, knowing how all cowboys reacted to the thought of a night in the hospital. “He’ll be impossible.”
Angel’s expression was droll. “He already is. Want to talk to him?”
Day was in a private room on the second floor. As they rode up in the elevator, Dulcie was aware that Tye hadn’t asked her if he should accompany her. He’d simply picked up the diaper bag and followed as if he’d been invited.
She barely made it through the door of Day’s room before her brother began to fire orders at her.
“Whoa,” she said. “Don’t I even get to kiss the invalid and see the wounds?”
“No.” Day didn’t even pause. “Of all the damned dumb luck…We’re already shorthanded since Mosey took off. I don’t have time for this.”
Mosey was a cowhand who had quit suddenly a week earlier. Pretty lousy timing, Dulcie knew, just about the time the cows started dropping calves. Spring was a busy time on a cow-calf operation.
“I could help out.”
The quiet statement stopped Day in midsentence. “You?” His eyes narrowed and Dulcie held her breath, but it appeared his accident had knocked some sense into her brother because he didn’t say anything else.
“Yup.” All of a sudden, Tye had become a man of few words, also.
“Feelin’ up to it?”
It was an innocent enough question on the surface, but Dulcie could almost see Tye bristle. Insinuating that something as trivial as an injured hand or a concussion could keep him out of the saddle apparently irked him as much as it had Day.
“I’m feelin’ fine,” Tye said, clipping the words so short that she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d bitten his tongue.
“You worked on your family’s operation, you said.”
“My uncle’s.”
Why did Tye find it necessary to explain that it was his uncle’s ranch, she wondered.
“What’d ya do?”
“I was his foreman for ten months.”
“Would you be willing to do that for me? For a fee, of course.” Her brother’s eyes were intent as he regarded Tye. She was absurdly proud that Tye didn’t seem intimidated, then chastised herself for caring.
Tye nodded slowly. “I could help out for a few weeks.”
Day snorted. “I’m not going to be out of the saddle that long. Now come over here and let me tell you what needs doin.’“
Dulcie, suddenly ignored, looked back at Angel, who only shrugged and smiled. “Let’s go get a drink,” she whispered.
Dulcie took Ryan from Tye and followed Angel down the hall to the lounge. They got sodas from a machine and sat. Ryan slept peacefully in his knapsack anchored against her chest. Neither woman spoke.
Finally, Angel broke the silence. “So Tye is Ryan’s father.”
Slowly, Dulcie nodded.
“I had a feeling yesterday that he wasn’t just a casual acquaintance.” Angel’s smile was smug.
“We weren’t—” How to explain this? Angel had been her friend since childhood, but there was no easy way to tell this story. “We met while I was still married, and while Lyle was traveling we went to the movies and out for dinner a few times, but it was just a friendship then. He was tired of women who wanted instant relationships and I…I guess I was just lonely.”
“We knew things were rough for you,” Angel said.
“I didn’t cheat on Lyle.” Why did she feel the need to make that clear? She was a grown woman. But Day had been more than just a brother throughout most of her life; it was important to her that he and Angel understood. “Nothing happened between us until the day I went back to Albuquerque that last time.” She laughed, as a sad memory surfaced of the naive girl she’d been. “Actually, I went back because I’d talked with Lyle on the phone and I thought maybe we had a chance of saving our marriage. I was prepared to forget about the divorce papers.”
“What changed your mind?” Angel asked when silence fell again.
“I found Lyle in bed with another woman.” She winced. “Well, actually, they were on the kitchen table. And when I left, Tye happened to be in the hallway.”
“Oh.” Angel’s eyes had rounded. “I see. Marriage to Lyle was no picnic for you to start with. He was a real jerk.” Her quiet voice expressed a venom all the more remarkable coming from such a tolerant woman.
“Yep.” She’d fought and conquered those feelings in the past year. She’d even been genuinely sorry when he’d been killed, mostly because she was happy. She was home, on the ranch where she belonged, and she was going to have a baby of her very own.
“So what happens now?” Angel looked concerned. “Is Tye going to want joint custody of Ryan?”
“I don’t know.” She met her sister-in-law’s troubled gaze. “He asked me to marry him, but I said no. He is not a happy camper right now.”
Angel’s eyes grew even bigger and a soft, wry smile curved her mouth. “I guess he isn’t.” She shook her head, and when she looked at Dulcie again her eyes held amusement. “He oozes sex appeal—are you going to be able to resist him?”
“He oozes sex appeal?” Dulcie laughed aloud at the phrase. “I thought you were madly in lust with my brother. Besides, you’re married.”
“Putting on this gold band doesn’t mean I lost my eyesight,” Angel said mildly. “And you didn’t answer the question.”
Dulcie shrugged. “Tye’s used to getting what he wants, but I’m not available. Besides, his job is just like Lyle’s, and I’ll never, ever marry a man who isn’t going to stay in one place for the rest of his life. Actually, I doubt I’ll ever marry again.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “You’re awfully young to be making that kind of prediction. I hope you like to eat your words.” She smiled. “So Tye is a salesman?”
Dulcie shook her head. “He’s an artist. He takes pictures.”
“Pictures of what?”
It was too hard to explain. Instead, she dug into the diaper bag, where she’d stashed the magazine Tye had pointed out the night before. It wasn’t that she was going to read it—she just had thought it might be good to have it handy in case she had time to kill at a doctor’s office or something.
Handing Angel the magazine, she pointed to the cover photo. “He took that.”
“You’re kidding.”
The awe in Angel’s voice would have been gratifying if she cared for Tye—which of course, she didn’t. Not romantically, anyway. He’d been what she needed at a time when her life was in ruins around her—that was all.
Angel spoke again. “Duls, there’s taking pictures and then there’s taking pictures. This is professional work.”
“I hope so. That’s all he does.”
Angel laughed. “Well, at least one of my fears has been laid to rest. Tye can’t be hurting for money if he’s making the cover of magazines like this.”
Angel knew what she was talking about, Dulcie was sure. She’d been a popular actress before she’d married Day, and the ins and outs of entertainment of all sorts were as familiar to her as birthing calves was to Dulcie. Still, the money was beside the point, even if he was able to make a good living as a photographer. Money didn’t make people happy.
Angel was standing, the magazine still in her hand. “May I show this to Day?”
Dulcie shrugged as they walked back to her brother’s hospital room. “I guess so.”
The hands had made their own evening meal, and she presumed Tye had done the same. Sitting in the family room giving Ryan his evening feeding, Dulcie was very aware of the quiet surrounding her.
Albuquerque hadn’t been a particularly noisy city. Though it lacked the genteel bustle of Santa Fe, she thought she preferred its no-nonsense hum of activity. But the bottom line was that she wasn’t a city gal at heart. The peaceful
silence of the range suited her best.
She closed her eyes and laid her head against the back of the sofa. Ryan was almost asleep at her breast, and she smiled to herself as she felt the tugging of his tiny mouth lessen, his infant body relaxing. Yes, this was where she belonged. She and her son. She would teach him to love the ranch as much as she did.
“Is he sleeping?”
Tye’s hushed voice jolted her. She’d assumed he was already in his room for the evening. As she stiffened reflexively, Ryan began to nurse vigorously for an instant. Quickly, she scrambled to cover her exposed flesh with a baby blanket, but Tye caught a corner of it, stopping her.
“Please—may I watch him?” His gaze wasn’t directed at her, but at his son’s tiny body. He reached out, and she suppressed a gasp, sure he was going to place his hand right on her naked flesh, but he stopped short, passing a gentle finger over the shape of Ryan’s perfect oval skull. “He’s a miracle,” he whispered.
She felt her face growing hot as she struggled with her feelings, looking away. Tye had already seen her before; it wasn’t as if she needed to be modest. And he was far more interested in Ryan than he was in her—that was for sure.
“Dulcie—” Tye’s hand moved to cup her chin, drawing her head up. “Don’t be embarrassed. This is a beautiful sight to me. I’m glad you decided to breastfeed our son.” He carefully smoothed one tiny foot between his thumb and forefinger. “It must be a pretty fantastic feeling to know that you can provide everything he needs to grow strong and healthy right now.”
The intensity of his quiet words and the warm light in his eyes stole every molecule of oxygen right out of the air around her. It would be so easy to give in to that warmth.
She liked the intimacy of the three of them—father, mother, child. And Tye made her feel cherished, special, with the reverent way he treated her, as if bearing a child wasn’t an everyday occurrence but truly the miracle he saw.
Maybe she liked the intimacy too much. It made her long for permanence, for a commitment that meant more to Tye than financial support and an occasional stopover between jobs. And that was something she couldn’t have.
She’d best not forget it, either.
Carefully, she slipped a finger into the side of Ryan’s tiny rosebud mouth, breaking the suction. His head lolled back against her arm as she covered her breast and propped him upright.
“Time for a bubble,” she said, rubbing the baby’s back and studiously ignoring Tye. In seconds, a hefty burp rolled up from the depths of the baby’s stomach. Ryan didn’t wake up, and she smiled faintly as she looked over his head at Tye. “Would you like to take him up to bed?”
Tye’s expression told her that he knew she’d withdrawn from him deliberately. But he said nothing, merely took the baby from her and moved toward the stairs. She watched them go, father cradling son against his heart, and her own heart ached. She hadn’t been woman enough to hold one man, and she wasn’t fool enough to try it again…no matter how much she was tempted.
Adjusting her clothing, she turned off the lights downstairs and refilled the glass of ice water that was a nursing mother’s constant companion. Then she mounted the steps and moved down the hall toward her own room, conscious of how very tired she was. The day had been draining.
The door to her room was ajar. As she moved into the dark interior, she put out a hand to flip the switch on the wall, but before she could find it, a large body steamrolled into her.
“Wha…?”
“Holy thunderin’ tarnation! What in hell is that?”
Even before she reached over and found the light switch, she knew she’d slopped water from the glass she held. Apparently, Tye was wearing it now.
The room filled with light. Tye stood before her, pulling at his soaking shirt with thumb and forefinger. He glared at her. “Since when do you carry around ice water in the dark?”
“Since I started breast-feeding your son,” she replied sternly. “Since when do you start sneaking around in my room?”
His eyes narrowed, but instead of flinging another dart at her, he pointed to her bedside table. “I didn’t know what to do with Ryan’s pacifier, and I wanted you to be able to find it fast,” he said.
Her gaze followed his finger’s direction. There was the pacifier. And really, she’d known he must have had a reason. Tye had been nothing but chivalrous in the time they’d spent together. She exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said, forcing herself to look at him squarely. “I’m tired and I overreacted. Thank you.”
She stepped aside, waiting for him to leave.
But Tye didn’t move.
Then he took a step toward her. One large hand lifted, reached out and snagged hers, drawing her closer. At the same time, the look in his eyes warmed with humor. “What am I going to do about my shirt?”
She swallowed. Just because he was the most compelling, magnetic hunk of male that she’d ever met in her entire life didn’t mean that she had to act like a simpleton. She cleared her throat, waiting for a witty retort to spring to mind. “I…I don’t know.”
“Guess you’ll have to warm me up.” Slowly he pulled her to him, running his palms up and down her back, flattening her body against his beneath the soaked garment.
She gasped at the clammy cold that seeped through her shirt instantly. Within a moment, though, the sodden fabric was forgotten when Tye dropped his head and his mouth nuzzled along her cheek. “Meet me halfway, Duls,” he whispered.
She might have resisted his overpowering sex appeal. She might even have resisted that glint of humor lurking in the depths of his eyes. But the entreaty in his voice, the uncertainty that broke through, erased any thought of refusal. He needed her. In what way, for how long, became unimportant. Her body relaxed into his in tacit acceptance.
Releasing the restraint on her common sense was her undoing. His breath was a hot lick of sensation against the sensitive lobe of her ear, and a shiver started at the top of her spine, racing steadily down to center in the feminine heart of her. Her muscles loosened, her knees felt weak. At her back, the large hands that held her firmly against him slipped down to cup and fondle her buttocks. He bent his knees slightly, and in the same moment, tightened his grip on her bottom. She cried out, in both shock and arousal, as she suddenly found herself riding his thigh, the hot, wanting pulse at the top of her legs pressed flush against the hard ridge of male power contained by his jeans.
Tye groaned. She turned her face into his neck as her arms stole up around his wide shoulders. She pressed reckless kisses against the strong column of his throat as he slowly shifted her over him. Beneath her palms, the strong muscles of his back flexed; he pulled back just far enough to dip his head and capture her mouth with his.
Chain lightning. Liquid heat. His lips were soft and silky, but the rough man-flesh of his jaw scraped her as he angled his mouth over hers. His tongue plunged deep, with no thought of the months that stood between them. She responded as she had the last time he’d kissed her, accepting his tongue and sucking lightly, curling her own tongue around his in welcome.
Feverishly, she twisted in his arms, her body sliding over his, her mouth giving him everything he demanded. She had missed this. Oh, God, she bad missed this, missed Tye.
The thought was as cold as the ice water that had slopped down his shirt. What was she thinking? Missing Tye meant that she was incomplete without him. Missing Tye meant that he could hurt her when he left, as she knew he would. Lyle hadn’t stayed for her. Tye wouldn’t, either.
And she refused to let it matter.
Tearing her mouth from his, she pressed against his chest until he raised his head. She could see puzzlement rising in his eyes as he let her slide to the floor.
“Wait—I can’t just do this. I have to think.”
“Don’t think.” He molded her bottom in his big hands and rubbed himself roughly against her again. “Just feel.”
She shuddered, closing her eyes against the appeal in his blunt feature
s. “I’m not looking for a man.”
His hands clenched briefly on her bottom, but for a long moment he was silent. She opened her eyes. His expression had darkened, passion replaced by anger. “Like it or not, you already have a man. If you didn’t want a man in your life, you should have thought a little bit before you hopped into my bed and got pregnant with my son.”
She sucked in a shocked breath, cut to the core by his accurate words. There was no defense, and she knew it as well as he did. She-had made it impossible for him to resist her that night.
Tye grabbed her chin and pulled her face up to his, taking her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss that conveyed contempt. Then he pushed her away from him and stalked out of her room.
If he could manage it, he would kick himself around the barn and back, Tye thought as he rinsed his cereal bowl the next morning. He knew what Dulcie’s life had been like. He knew how gently she needed to be handled, and yet what had he done? Fondled her against her will—never mind that she had eventually responded, he knew it wasn’t what she had wanted. And then, when he should have apologized and backed off, he’d accused her of jumping his bones and practically told her that this whole sorry mess was her fault.
He blew out a deep breath, shaking his head. He had no one to blame but himself for missing Dulcie’s pregnancy and Ryan’s birth. He’d been aware from the first moment he’d parted her legs and sunk into her body that night that he wasn’t protected. He’d known a baby was more than a remote possibility, and yet he’d let almost a year slip by.
The telephone rang. Startled out of his thoughts, he grabbed for it as he glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even seven in the morning. Who could be calling so early? “Red Arrow Ranch.”
“Tye? ’Zat you, you ornery sidewinder?”
“McNally.” Hell, he thought. He never should have told Bill McNally where he was going to be. The last person he wanted to talk to right now was his agent. Bill had been itching to load him up with assignments for months; he probably had a dozen jobs lined up.
“Hey, buddy. So your ranchin’ days are finally over. I thought I’d never pry you outta Montana! Whatcha doin’ ’way down there? Find somethin’ to take pictures of?”