One Man and a Baby Page 4

  “You’re only paying back the favor I did for you this morning.”

  “I would have preferred that you explained that situation to Toby this morning. I wanted the air cleared,” she said, but her voice shivered oddly and Rick frowned. Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. “I wanted the truth out. Unlike you, I don’t keep secrets.”

  She turned to run down the steps, but again Rick couldn’t let her go. It was one thing for her to fear him as her boss. Quite another for her to be “afraid” of him.

  He stopped her by grabbing her wrist, and her gaze leaped to his. Her pretty green eyes widened and she shivered, and it was all Rick could do to keep from laughing out loud. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was attracted to him. That was why she was running. She wanted to get away before he noticed, but it was too late.

  “I get the distinct impression that you might have a secret or two.”

  To her credit she held his gaze. “I don’t.”

  Rick ignored her words and focused on her feathery, breathless voice. He skimmed his index finger over her wrist and was rewarded when her breathing stuttered.

  “I could kiss you right now and you wouldn’t run.”

  “Not until after I’d kicked you.”

  He laughed and leaned forward just a bit. She didn’t move. Didn’t shrink back. If nothing else, the kid had backbone.

  “But you’d like it.”

  “So would you.”

  This time it was his breath that froze in his chest. The hell of it was she was right. Staring into her fiery green eyes, feeling her soft skin against his palm, he couldn’t deny it. He would enjoy kissing her, so for that very reason he stepped back.

  “Go home. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  She turned and headed for the steps.

  Just to make sure they were clear about their situation, Rick added, “Don’t think your job will be any easier because you know about Ruthie. As far as I’m concerned we’re even.”

  Halfway down the steps she turned again. “You came into my bedroom. I came into your house. That’s even. But not the part about the baby secret. You owe me on that one.”

  “And I’m paying you back by keeping the secret that you’re attracted to me. So once again, we’re even.”

  She shook her head with disgust and started down the steps. But Rick knew two things. First, she hadn’t seen that he’d reacted to her, too, or she would have had a snappy comeback. Second, she had gotten his message. They both knew she was attracted to him and they both knew that was enough to keep her in line at least until she grew accustomed to it.

  Marching up the sidewalk to the hardware store the next morning, Ashley didn’t even let herself think about how she looked—or smelled. She knew what was going on. Rick might not be the finagler he was in his misspent youth, but they were in competition for a job and sending her into town was an easy way to embarrass her and clearly illustrate that if she got this job this would be her life. A sweaty, smelly farmworker. Dressed in the oldest clothes she could find in her drawers. Her hair matted into ringlets from sweat. No makeup.

  But contrary to what Rick expected, she refused to be embarrassed. Not just because she wouldn’t let him win, but because she accepted that this was her life now. She wanted to be the farm manager. She wanted to care for the horses, dicker for new mares, negotiate the sale of foals, hire hands, settle small battles, maintain the property. She wanted to be connected to the land and the people of her small town as one of them. No longer an outsider, or her father’s daughter, but one of them.

  She pushed open the hardware store door and the bell rang, alerting Bert Minor to her arrival. “Hey, Bert,” she called striding down the aisle. “I’m here to pick up the part Rick ordered this morning.”

  The tall, round, hardware store owner scrambled out of the back room, drying his hands in a brown paper towel. “Hey, Ashley. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going great, but apparently Rick or somebody needs some part and I was elected to pick it up.”

  He looked pointedly at her oversize gray T-shirt and threadbare jeans, apparently not realizing that in some parts of the world she’d be in style.

  “They must all be super busy.”

  “We are super busy,” she said, emphasizing the “we” so Bert would start thinking of her as one of the workers, not just a resident of the farm. “That’s why I didn’t have time to change clothes. Besides, you might as well get used to me looking like this. Right now I’m learning as much as I can about running the place, and when my father retires I hope to be the one who takes over.”

  He smiled approvingly. People in Calhoun Corners weren’t fond of outsiders and they liked it when a farm passed from one generation to the next. “Yeah. Your dad told me he was retiring.”

  Though Ashley had suspected her father would probably officially retire when he returned in February, hearing that he’d already announced it in town froze her breath in her lungs. Still, she schooled her features, not so much to prevent Bert from seeing that it hurt her to hear it from him but so that he wouldn’t guess that her dad seemed to be telling everybody but her.

  “He called the day before he left to go sailing and put Rick’s names on all your accounts,” Bert said, examining the screen of his computerized checkout system, subtly alerting her to the fact that everybody knew Rick was in the running for the manager job, and to him it looked as if Rick was in the lead.

  She only smiled.

  “So, you don’t have to sign for this or anything.” He handed her a brown bag that held something heavy. “Just don’t drop it.”

  “Right.”

  “And good luck with learning the ropes. I’m pulling for you.”

  “Thanks.” She walked out of the hardware store and directly to her black SUV. She carefully set whatever the hell was in the bag on the floor in front of the passenger’s seat, then slammed the door closed. Rounding the hood, she passed the dress shop and stopped suddenly.

  Janie Alberter was running her fall sale, but Ashley’s attention wasn’t caught by something pretty for herself. What stopped her dead in her tracks was the little sundress the shade of Ruthie’s eyes.

  It was the cutest thing Ashley had ever seen and without any trouble at all she could picture Rick’s little girl wearing it. Not only that, but buying the dress was exactly the kind of gesture she wanted to show Rick that she was handling this, not just the work, but the transition from normal woman to normal woman and farmhand, and doing it without hard feelings. She refused to give him any sort of opening to tell her dad she was a whiner. She didn’t want to give him anything but positive feedback to report to her dad.

  She clicked the button on her key chain that locked her SUV and strode into the dress shop.

  “Janie,” she said walking up to the counter. “I want that little blue dress that’s in the window.”

  Janie turned and faced Ashley. To her credit she didn’t say a word about Ashley’s unkempt appearance and acted as if she didn’t notice, probably because Ashley was her best customer. “The baby dress?”

  Ashley nodded.

  “Why would you want a baby dress? Who do you know that has a baby?”

  Ashley held back a groan. For someone who had promised to keep Rick’s little girl a secret, Ashley had just made a huge mistake.

  To cover it she smiled and said, “A friend of mine had a baby a few months ago and I bought a gift at the time, but I just love that little dress so much that I’m going to send that along, too.”

  “Well, aren’t you sweet,” Janie crooned. “Give me two seconds to get it into a bag.” She started walking away, but turned and said, “What size?”

  “Size?”

  Obviously having been through this before, Janie smiled. “How old is she?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Is she this big,” Janie asked, spreading her hands about a foot-and-a-half apart. “Or this big?” she asked, moving her hands about six inches further away. “Or this big?”<
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  “The second one.”

  “Okay, we’ll say six months.”

  Knowing Rick was waiting for his part, when Ashley returned to Seven Hills she immediately lifted out the brown bag, leaving the baby dress behind, and delivered it to Rick who only grunted.

  Not quite sure what to do, Ashley stayed in front of the old metal desk until he glanced up.

  “What? You want applause?”

  “No, I was sort of hoping I could grab some lunch before I go back to the stalls.”

  Looking down at the paperwork he had been reviewing, Rick dismissed her saying, “Fine.”

  Determined to be the most chipper, happy farmhand Rick Capriotti had ever seen, Ashley said, “Thanks, boss,” turned and headed up to her house. She entered through the back door and walked past the oak cabinets, brick-red colored walls, copper pots and American Southwest print rugs on her way to the laundry room and first floor bath. She took off her clothes, depositing them into the washer, and then showered. If only because she couldn’t imagine eating a sandwich smelling the way she did.

  Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed the bath towel she’d brought in from the laundry room, then padded upstairs to her bedroom. She dressed in another pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed a stack of clean jeans, T-shirts and underwear and ran down the steps. After storing the fresh clothes in the bathroom for future use, she ate a sandwich with a glass of iced tea, then strode down to the barn again.

  Completely forgetting about Ruthie’s dress she went back to work, lifting and pushing and otherwise disposing of smelly straw until her back ached. Once again, it was six o’clock before she left the barn. Once again, she thought she might have to crawl up the steps to the back porch and then across the kitchen floor to the first floor laundry room and bath.

  Hot shower water again took away a good bit of her muscle aches. Cocooned in a clean bath towel, she walked up the steps to her room and into the section of her dressing room that contained her nightgowns. She reached for a pretty blue one with spaghetti straps—something so pretty it would make her forget the now-broken blisters on her palms—and suddenly remembered the sundress she had bought for Ruthie.

  Deciding that there was no time like the present to give Rick her peace offering, she blow-dried her hair, slid into a pair of capris and a three-quarter-length sleeve white blouse and drove down to the guesthouse again. This time she waited until Rick answered her knock rather than entering on her own.

  Wearing a fresh T-shirt and jeans, with his wet hair combed off his face, Rick appeared at the screen door holding Ruthie, looking clean and so wholesome Ashley stared at him mutely. Every damn day the man got more handsome.

  “What do you want now?” he asked through the door, which he kept noticeably closed.

  Ashley presented the bag. “I saw this in the store today when I went to pick up the part for the main mower.”

  For some reason or another his pretty blue eyes narrowed into slits.

  “You went shopping when I sent you into town for something for the farm?”

  “No!” she said, suddenly understanding his annoyance and glad she had a good explanation. “I saw this,” she said, thrusting the package at the door again, “as I was walking to my car.”

  He still didn’t open the screen door.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s something for Ruthie. A dress.”

  His eyes that had been little blue slits suddenly widened and filled with fire. “What?”

  “It’s a dress. A pretty dress.”

  “She doesn’t need another dress.”

  “Of course, she does,” Ashley said with a laugh. “No girl alive has enough clothes.”

  Rick turned away from her and marched into the living room where he set the baby in her portable chair. Assuming she was invited in by default, Ashley opened the screen door and stepped inside. She pulled the dress out of the bag and displayed it.

  “See? It’s the color of her eyes.”

  He turned so quickly that Ashley gasped.

  Eyes burning into her, he said, “Let me make this perfectly clear. I don’t want your charity. Worse, if you think this dress is a bribe to get me to lighten up on you, you just made the biggest mistake of your life. I don’t need anyone buying clothes for my child.”

  Ashley gaped at him. “This was neither charity nor a bribe,” she said, infuriated at his tone. “I bought it because it’s pretty. And she is pretty. And she and the dress match perfectly.”

  Rick stepped even closer to Ashley, coming so near only a breath of space separated them. She could see the white-hot anger in his eyes, feel the heat radiating from him. But instead of being afraid, Ashley felt her body responding to his nearness. Her fingers itched to touch him. Her blood percolated through her veins. Her breathing became erratic.

  “Not a bribe?” he asked softly.

  She licked her lips. “No.”

  “Because if you wanted to bribe me, you have much better temptations at your disposal.”

  He only ran one finger across her chin, but Ashley felt the touch the whole way to her toes.

  “I’m not here to bribe you…”

  “Oh come on. I’ve lived at Seven Hills for three nights. You’ve visited me on two of them. I guessed last night that you were attracted to me. Now, you’re bringing me a present. I know the signs, honey. I know exactly what you’re doing. Remember I dated somebody like you.”

  “Yeah, well, I dated somebody like you, too,” Ashley said, furious with her traitorous body for being covered with chills and wanting to melt against him. Hadn’t she already learned this lesson? “He took half my trust fund. I wouldn’t be interested in you on a lost bet.”

  “Oh I get it. You’re here because you’re not interested.”

  Ashley could handle the backbreaking labor required to strengthen her body to be physically able to do the job she wanted. She could handle changing her life—changing even the entire town’s perception of her. But there was no reason to put up with personal abuse. Rick Capriotti might be the world’s most gorgeous man. He might even be a nice guy with his baby. But she didn’t want anything to do with him. No matter what her traitorous hormones thought.

  She tossed the dress onto the chair. “Think what you want. But the dress isn’t a bribe. It’s a gift. And it’s not even a gift to you. It’s a gift to Ruthie. If your pride can’t handle somebody buying clothes for your child, I will respect that and I won’t buy anything else. But since I already bought the damned thing you’re stuck with it. Rest assured I won’t make another nice gesture for you again.”

  Ashley pounded out of Rick’s living room, down the porch steps and to her car. Rick heard the roar of her SUV engine when she gunned it, spewing gravel as she drove away, and he cursed. Ashley Meljac was going to be the death of him.

  He walked though his downstairs turning off lights, gathered Ruthie and then wearily climbed the stairs and went to bed, knowing he should have handled that better and not quite sure why he hadn’t. But it all became crystal clear the next morning when he couldn’t stop yawning as he drove to the diner for coffee after dropping Ruthie at Tia’s.

  Exhaustion had him too weak to be as sharp as he needed to be. Though most nights he went to sleep before ten, Ruthie woke him at least once. Then he was up at four to get her fed and over to Tia’s, so he could be in the barn at four-thirty. It was no wonder he’d over-reacted to Ashley’s gift and let his attraction to her get the best of him.

  Though exhaustion was a good explanation, it didn’t solve the problem. At least not completely. Rick was sure Ashley wouldn’t ever buy another gift, but he and Ashley were always going to be attracted. He knew all about male/female chemistry. And the kind he and Ashley shared was the kind that didn’t go away without at least a little experimentation. That’s what made their attraction trouble. Neither one of them would forget about it until one of them did something to scratch the itch, and it wasn’t going to be him. He’d learned his l
esson about socialites. They didn’t think long-term when it came to cowboys. Cowboys weren’t mate material. They were the objects of flings. They were for a good time. They were for a little fun. But after the fun, they were yesterday’s trash.

  Frowning, Rick pulled into a parking space in front of the diner, wondering if that would really be so bad. Not the part about being trash, but the part about the fling. The mistake he had made with Jen was falling in love. If he went into an affair with Ashley knowing their relationship would end so he couldn’t get too attached, he wouldn’t get hurt. And as long as he let her be the one to break it off, she wouldn’t get hurt, either. They could both get the attraction out of their systems, and get on with the business of working together.

  “Good morning, Rick!” Ellen Johnson, wife of Bill Johnson who owned the diner, greeted Rick as he pushed open the glass door. Twenty or so wooden tables were scattered about and a long shiny red counter matched the booths that circled the outside rim of the room. Red and white checkered curtains hung on the wall of windows beside the booths.

  “Hey, Ellen, just coffee.”

  Standing behind the cash register at the end of the counter, tall, brown-haired Ellen smiled. “To go?”

  “Isn’t it always.”

  “Yep.” She turned and reached for the coffeepot with her right hand as she retrieved a takeout cup with her left. “So how’s it going at the Meljacs’s?”

  “Fine.”

  “I hear Ashley’s working, too.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. The gossip mill in this town was swift and efficient. “Yep.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Because her back was to him, Rick rolled his eyes.

  “She’s really had a rough life, you know,” Ellen continued as she handed Rick his coffee and returned to the cash register. “First her mom and brother dying in that auto accident.”

  Rick nodded. He wasn’t in Calhoun Corners when her mother and brother were killed, but he hadn’t been home a day before he’d heard about it.

  “Then that boy she married, stealing half her trust fund.”