A Daddy for Dillon (21 page)

“You haven’t heard from her today, have you?” Sassy asked as she folded a piece of bologna between a piece of bread.

Across the kitchen table, Leyla had been forcing herself to eat a small portion of tuna salad. “Why no,” Leyla replied. “Did she say she was going to call back?”

“Not exactly. But I got the impression she would. If I remember right, Jim’s checkup was this morning. Why don’t you call her? She might have some news about his X-rays.”

It would certainly help to know how many more days she could expect to be here, Leyla thought. But she didn’t like the idea of calling the woman and pressing her for information.

“I don’t think I should. She might get the wrong idea.”

Making an impatient sound, Sassy swallowed the last of the bologna and bread and rose to her feet. “Don’t be ridiculous. She won’t think anything of it. I’ll call her myself.”

Picking up the phone on the end of the cabinet, Sassy made the call. While her friend talked, Leyla tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation. Instead, she turned her attention to Dillon, who was making a game of crumbling crackers into his alphabet soup.

After a somewhat lengthy swap of words, Sassy finally placed the receiver back on its hook and walked back to the table. Leyla took one glance at the puckered frown on the other woman’s face and wondered what could have possibly put it there.

“Jim’s X-rays were good. The bone is healed. The cast is off and he’s starting therapy tomorrow,” she relayed.

Leyla didn’t know whether to cry or shout with joy. Common sense told her that the quicker she left this ranch and put distance between herself and Laramie, the better off she’d be. But her heart wasn’t listening to logic. She loved Laramie. To leave him would be like tearing out her heart and tossing it away.

“Oh. That’s good news,” she said.

Sassy seemed unaware of the guarded note in Leyla’s voice. Instead, she reached for a potato chip. “I asked Reena when she thought she’d be coming home. But she didn’t make much sense when she answered.”

Trying not to appear anxious, Leyla asked, “What do you mean?”

Sassy shrugged. “I’m not sure. She started talking about how much Abe needed her there and that she wasn’t about to leave him just yet. Along with that I got the feeling that she wasn’t looking forward to leaving the old man period.” She looked at Leyla and let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Wouldn’t that be something? Reena and Abe. Who would have ever thought it?”

“Well, the last time I talked with her,” Leyla said, “I recall her calling him a sweetheart. But I thought she meant it in a general sense.” She glanced at Sassy. “There’s a large age gap between the two of them, isn’t there? I’ve not met the elder Cantrell, but his photo is on the desk in the study. He looks somewhat older than Reena.”

Sassy laughed. “Somewhat! Honey, I’d guess Abe has to be around eighty-six, if he’s a day. But to be fair, he gets around like a man thirty years younger.” A wistful expression came over the maid’s face as she gazed beyond Leyla’s shoulder to the window overlooking the ranch yard. “Isn’t it romantic? Reena is such a lovely woman and she’s been alone for so long. To think she’s fallen for Abe—well, it’s just dreamy.”

“It’s surprising,” Leyla replied.

Annoyed with Leyla’s attitude, Sassy glanced at her. “Leyla, you’re just not a romantic soul. And I can hardly figure why when you obviously have Laramie wrapped around your little finger.”

Rising quickly to her feet, Leyla carried her dirty dish to the sink. “ I don’t want to talk about him,” she said firmly.

A long stretch of silence passed and then Sassy said, “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about leaving the ranch anytime soon, if ever. Because frankly, I don’t believe Reena intends to come back to the Chaparral.”

How would that change things for her and Dillon? Leyla wondered, her mind spinning in all directions. Laramie had asked her to marry him. Most any woman in her shoes would be walking on a cloud about now. Instead, she was frozen with doubts and fears.

When she’d told him that she loved him, the words had come straight from her heart. But for them to be married—how would it ever work? She’d definitely have to forsake her plans to be a nurse. At least, for a while. Along with that he’d be taking on more than a wife. Dillon and Oneida would also become his responsibilities. That was a lot to ask a man who’d been a bachelor all his life. What if the stress of it all crushed his love for her? Or should she be giving him more credit? He’d dealt with all sorts of heavy loads in his life. Maybe he could handle a ready-made family.

Forget the questions, Leyla. You’ve probably already managed to kill whatever feelings Laramie had for you. He believes you have your sights on bigger fish. He thinks you’re all about owning. Not loving.

Oh, God, what was she going to do? she silently prayed.

“Leyla, is anything wrong?”

Sassy’s voice penetrated her thoughts and she glanced over to see the maid had gotten to her feet and was now approaching her.

“No. I was just thinking about things.” She did her best to smile. “I think I’d better go check on my aunt tomorrow. Would you like to drive into town with me?”

“Sure. We’ll stop by the Blue Mesa and I’ll buy Dillon a big ice cream cone and we’ll have pie.”

Leyla rolled her eyes. “Do you ever stop thinking of dessert?”

Sassy laughed. “Only when I’m thinking about a man.”

* * *

Dusk was approaching later that evening when Laramie braked his truck to a halt at the back of the house. As soon as he stepped through the gate, he spotted Dillon rolling in the grass with his kittens, Cookie and Stripes.

Unaware that a wistful expression had softened his hard features, Laramie paused to take in the sight. No matter what had occurred with him and Leyla, the boy already felt like his son. If she took him away, it would be like tearing off Laramie’s arm or leg. He’d survive, but it would be damned hard.

After a moment, the child spotted him standing on the stone walkway and Laramie felt a sense of utter love as Dillon raced to greet him.

“Larmee! Larmee!”

Chuckling, he swung Dillon up in his arms. “How’s my partner?”

Grinning broadly, the child hooked an arm around Laramie’s neck. “I’m good! See my boots? Mommy let me wear ’em. I can’t get ’em dirty, though. She be mad.”

Laramie made a show of inspecting Dillon’s boots. “I think she’ll be happy. They look pretty clean to me.”

Laramie wanted to tell the child that cowboy boots were made for getting dirty. But he had no right to go against Leyla’s instructions to her son. No doubt she would resent it. The way she’d resented his marriage proposal, he thought grimly.

He’d tried all day to forget the list of reasons she had for not marrying him, to forget the emptiness he’d felt when he’d left her apartment last night. But nothing, not even hours in the saddle or dealing with a broken windmill and a herd of thirsty cattle, had been able to push the miserable thoughts from his mind.

He didn’t want to lose her. He loved her. More than he’d ever imagined he could love anyone. Was he crazy or just too damned weak to care that she wanted to own a house more than she wanted to be with him? He’d asked himself that question all day. And the more he’d thought, the more he’d decided that Leyla’s reaction to his proposal had nothing to do with a house, or Dillon, or her ailing aunt. It was everything to do with trust. Of taking a chance on him and all the things that could bring her happiness.

That’s why he couldn’t say to hell with his plans with her. He couldn’t turn his back and forget all the pleasure and wonderful dreams she’d brought to his life. He had to find some way to open her eyes, to show her what really mattered to the both of them.

Stepping into the atrium, with Dillon still riding the crook of his arm, he asked, “Is Mommy cooking?”

“She cookin’,” the youngster answered. “You gonna eat, too, Larmee?”

Laramie hugged the child a little tighter. “I sure am. We’re going to eat together.”

Inside the kitchen his gaze quickly searched the room until it landed on Leyla. As yet unaware of their presence, he watched as she methodically placed plates and silverware on the table. Wearing a black-and-white gingham dress that swished against her knees and with her long hair in a braid swept to one side of her head, she looked dainty and feminine. Her beauty always jolted him, but now that he’d explored the wonders of her body, now that he knew what pleasures waited in her arms, the sight of her hit him especially hard.

Swallowing at the tightness in his throat, he lowered Dillon to the floor. The boy quickly raced to his mother’s side.

“Larmee gonna eat, too, Mommy! See! Larmee home!”

Pausing in her task, she followed the direction of Dillon’s pointing finger. When her gaze caught sight of Laramie, her lips parted with surprise, but that was the only expression he could read on her face.

As he moved toward her, she spoke in a guarded tone, “Oh. I didn’t expect you to be here. I’ll get another plate.”

“Sorry,” he said stiffly. “I should’ve let you know I’d be coming in at a normal hour. But the way my schedule has been here lately I never know where I’ll be or when.”

Leaving the table, she walked over to the cabinets. Laramie crossed to where she stood with Dillon following close on his heels.

Pulling a plate from the cabinet, she said, “I found your note this morning.”

Even though he’d left her apartment in a turmoil last night, he’d not been trying to evade her. Giving her the cold shoulder this morning wouldn’t have solved anything. It would only prove he was hardly capable of being a husband or family man.

“A late calving heifer was having a problem giving birth. I went down to the vet barn to assist Russ. With Laurel pregnant it’s not good for her to do any heavy straining and the hands have all been working so hard, I didn’t want to get one of them out of bed when I could help instead. Turned out the heifer had to have a C-section.”

Her expression sheepish, Leyla turned to face him. “I...I thought—well, that you’d probably gone to the bunkhouse to eat.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t believe my note.”

Her guilty gaze slipped to a grinning Dillon. Thankfully the child appeared to be totally unaware of the stiff tension between Laramie and his mother.

“Well, you were upset with me last night,” she explained.

“Disappointed is a better word.”

With a nervous lick of her lips, she looked at him and he was struck by the confusion and hurt on her face. At that moment, Laramie wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to tell her that there was no need for either of them to suffer and that somehow they could make it work.

“Laramie, I need for you to understand.”

With Dillon wedged between their legs and listening to every word they were exchanging, he was forced to limit his reply. “I think I do,” he said huskily, then reached down for Dillon’s hand. “Come on, saddle pal. Let’s me and you go wash up.”

During supper Leyla was very quiet, but Dillon made up for his mother’s lack of conversation with his endless chatter. During the past few weeks, Laramie had watched the child’s self-confidence grow in leaps and bounds. There was no doubt that his surroundings had helped Dillon to thrive and grow from that quiet and shy youngster who’d first arrived here on the Chaparral. But had Leyla noticed just how much the ranch was doing for her son? And if she had, did it really matter to her?

Giving Dillon a daddy didn’t appear to be on the top of her want list, Laramie thought dourly. Compared to buying a house for the kid to live in, it didn’t even make her priority list.

You’re not being totally fair, Laramie. You’ve never been homeless or lived in a run-down structure that lacked the most basic facilities. If you had, you might understand where Leyla’s coming from. And it’s not just a house she wants. She has dreams to become a nurse and make something more of herself.

I need for you to understand.

There’d been a beseeching sound in her voice when she’d spoken those words to him, and it suddenly dawned on Laramie that for the past few years fear had been the catalyst pushing Leyla forward, the thing that had shaped and directed every choice she’d made concerning her and Dillon’s life and future.

So how was he going to change that? Laramie wondered. He didn’t know. He only knew that somehow, someway, he had to help her put her fears aside once and for all. Otherwise, the three of them could never have a future together.

Chapter Twelve

T
he three of them had just finished the meal and Leyla was making coffee to go with the dessert when he was called once again to the vet barn. This time the emergency involved a crippled horse, and Laramie remained there until Russ had taken X-rays and determined the horse would survive.

By the time he finally returned to the ranch house, the evening had grown late and Leyla had already retired to her apartment.

She answered his knock almost immediately, and as he followed her into the cozy living room, he removed his hat and combed a hand through his hair.

“I was about to decide you weren’t coming back anytime soon,” she said, then gestured for him to take a seat.

“Has Dillon already gone to bed?” As he sat on one end of the couch, he noticed several textbooks lying on the coffee table. Next to them was a legal pad with a page full of notes. Clearly she’d not dismissed her plans to become a nurse, he thought. But then he’d never expected or wanted her to simply drop her dreams because he’d asked her to marry him. He should have made that more clear to her, he thought. He should have assured her that he would never be a controlling or demanding husband.

“He tried to stay awake,” she said as she sank onto the cushion next to him. “But I finally put him to bed about an hour ago.”

“It took a while for Russ to do X-rays and make a diagnosis. I wanted to hang around to see if the horse was going to be okay or would have to be put down.”

“Will it be all right?” she asked with obvious concern.

“Russ is performing surgery right now to remove a bone chip in his knee. He’ll be fine after a long rest.”