The Cowboy's Forever Family (4 page)

He smiled. It was the first time she'd ever seen him smile—at least the genuine article and not the catching-the-eye-of-the-ladies grin he usually sported. Twin dimples carved deeply into his cheeks. On any other guy the dimples would have made him look boyish, but Slade was all man. Which, to Laney, at least, was one of his biggest shortcomings—among many.

“What were you doing that made so much noise out there?”

He shook his head. “Just pacing. The waiting room is too small for comfort.”

Or he was too large.

“He's kicking right now,” she said, laying a hand against the rib Baby Beckett was currently using as soccer practice and wondering if she should even make this small concession. She suspected Brody would have wanted it, which was the only reason she continued. “Would you like to feel?”

“It's a boy?”

“Oh, no. I mean, I don't actually know—I've chosen not to find out the gender until I give birth. Saying he/she every time I refer to the baby is getting to be too much of a tongue twister. I should probably just stick with Baby Beckett. It's easier to say.”

“Yeah,” Slade agreed, his voice unusually deep and thick. “You know Brody wouldn't have cared if Baby Beckett was a boy or a girl. He would have loved the baby just the same, no matter what.”

“He would have been a good father.” Her throat clogged with emotion. Their eyes met, and just for a moment they mutually shared the one thing they had in common.

Grief.

“The best.” The corner of Slade's mouth ticked, a tell Laney now recognized as reaction to stress.

“Come here,” she urged, holding out her hands.

He looked reticent, almost shy, as he stepped forward and offered her his hand.

She laid his palm where the baby was moving and the child responded with a swift kick, then another.

Slade's brilliant blue eyes filled with wonder. “Well, I'll be.”

“Amazing, right?”

“Amazing doesn't even begin to cover it.” He shook his head. “It's hard to believe Brody's kid is in there, just waiting to come out and say, ‘Hey.'”

Laney chuckled. “I'm not sure that's the first thing Baby Beckett will say. You never know, though. Could be.”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “Close enough. Two months, huh?”

“More or less. You do know babies don't necessarily come right on their due dates, right?” She had a clear mental picture of Slade hustling her off to the hospital just because the calendar said the time was right. That was just exactly the sort of thing he would do, exasperating man.

“On their own time, huh?”

“And in their own way. Each baby is different. Their own little person, with a unique personality. One of God's greatest blessings.”

She half expected Slade to scoff at her for her beliefs, but he nodded fervently and curled the brim of his hat in his fist. “The very best of them. Especially this one.”

“I wish Brody was here.”

Slade's gaze clouded with pain. He might not be the nicest of men, but there was no doubt he'd cared for Brody.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't keep bringing that up.” She couldn't believe she was apologizing to him, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

“No. You're right. Of course Brody should be here.” He turned away from her and punched at the air. “He
should
be here. Not me.”

What did that even mean? She understood the sentiment but not the anger.

“I'm sure we'll both do our best to honor Brody's memory.”

Slade turned back and shoved out a breath. “For Brody. We'll give the baby the best of everything. Enroll him in football. Baseball.”

“Ballet lessons,” Laney added with a chuckle, feeling a crazy mixture of joy and sorrow. Grief was impossible to understand.

Slade looked surprised, but then he nodded. “Right. If it's a girl. No way are we enrolling any boy of Brody's in dance class.”

She didn't know why they were discussing what they would do for Baby Beckett as if these were decisions the two of them would make together. Slade sounded awfully determined to be a part of her child's life.

“Maybe he'll want to take dance.”

Slade scoffed. “Let's hope not. Of course, you do realize Brody would have taught his little girls how to throw a football, not to mention rope and ride every bit as well as his sons.”

Laney chuckled. “I'd expect no less from him. I'll be spending the rest of my life in Serendipity. I would hope if Baby Beckett is a girl she'll know her way around the ranch.”

“I could do it.” Slade's statement was made so low she could barely understand the words.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Roping and riding. I could teach the kid how to do that stuff. Boy or girl. Either way. If you wanted me to, I mean.”

That was probably the nicest thing Laney had ever heard Slade say. He'd actually asked. Kind of. Or maybe her emotions were overwhelming her. Either way, her answer was the same. It had to be. “I'd like that, and I'm sure Baby Beckett will, as well.”

“Good, then. It's settled.” His nod was no more than a quick jerk of his chin, his jaw tight and his lips pressed together.

Great. So she'd just sealed the deal. Slade was going to be a part of her child's life for an extended period of time. Maybe always. Which by default meant she'd have to interact with him, as well. How had this conversation gotten so turned around?

“Brody had planned to reconcile with you, you know. Right after the rodeo was finished.”

Laney was so startled by the statement she gripped a nearby table for support. She was afraid she'd heard Slade wrong, but when she met his gaze, she knew he'd said just what she'd heard, and for whatever reason was sharing it with her now.

Brody had planned to come home to her.

And then that chance had been taken away from them both.

Chapter Four

S
lade's thoughts were a million miles away as he pulled his pickup onto the Becketts' long gravel driveway. Probably a good thing he'd made this very same drive so often over the years, seeing as he couldn't seem to be able to keep his mind on the road.

Even after nearly a week of not seeing her, he was thinking of Laney and Brody and wondering what Baby Beckett would look like. Would the little nipper have Brody's white-blond hair or a rich caramel brown like Laney? Laney's chocolate-brown eyes or Brody's light blue ones?

He had no doubt that any kid with Brody's and Laney's genes was going to be a cutie. However Slade personally felt about Laney, any man with eyes in his head would have to admit she was a real looker, the kind of woman that would cause a man to do a double-take if he passed her on the street. And while Slade had no clue what women found attractive in a man, he knew Brody had never had any trouble catching the ladies' attention. Women had flocked to him, especially buckle bunnies like Laney.

Not that it mattered one way or another what the baby looked like. Slade was going to love the kid—purple, green, blue or otherwise. He would love Baby Beckett, and protect and defend the child against whatever life through at him or her. Teach the kid everything he knew about ranching. About life.

It was the least he could do, since it was his fault the child would be growing up without a father. He owed Brody that much, and more.

Slade scowled when he realized there wasn't a single place to park in front of the Becketts' house. What was the deal? If the Becketts were throwing a party, they'd forgotten to invite him—not that anyone had parties on a Monday morning. He couldn't even take a guess what was really going on.

He pulled farther down the driveway and parked his truck in the only empty spot he could find. His original intention in coming to the Becketts' this morning was to saddle Nocturne, ride her to his parents' spread next door where he would stable her permanently, and afterward walk back for his truck.

He'd been bedding his horse at the Becketts' for long enough, though he still had every intention of helping them out wherever and whenever he could, just as he'd promised. He'd give Laney pointers on ranching and of course he'd be around when Baby Beckett arrived, but at the moment he felt it was time to back off and get a little distance from the situation. For his own good. Every day it seemed he was getting more and more wrapped up in Laney, both in the circumstances they each faced and in the woman herself. Half the time he didn't know whether he was coming or going.

“What's all this?” he muttered to himself, taking stock of the trucks parked up and down the driveway in front of the house—old, new and everything in between. Some familiar. Most not.

He started toward the house to investigate, then turned when he heard a ruckus coming from the ranchers' bunkhouse, where the wranglers slept and Brody's father kept his office. Grant primarily oversaw the ranch, but Brody had always helped when he was around and as time allowed. Slade knew Brody would have eventually found his way home again, taken over the ranch for good. Started a family.

But now everything had changed. Brody was gone. The ranch belonged to Laney. And there was a long line of scruffy, weathered cowboys, some young and some older than their beat-up trucks appeared to be, winding out of the office and around the bunkhouse.

Slade didn't recognize more than a few of them, and he knew everyone in Serendipity. Something was definitely up, and with the way his stomach was twisting and turning, he was fairly certain he wasn't going to like what he found. He'd learned to trust those inner nudges that he couldn't always explain. Those gut feelings were part of what made him so good at everything he did, from bull riding to serving as a police officer.

He strode across the uneven ground, his boots first crunching against the gravel and then silently sweeping through the long grass. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Now.

It very well might not be any of his business. Grant probably had it all under control—whatever
it
was. Call it curiosity, or another opportunity to find a way to help the Becketts. He'd know soon enough.

“Hey,” one of the younger wranglers protested when he ignored the long line of cowboys and cut through to the door of the office. Slade didn't care if he was breaking the rules, and he especially wasn't concerned over what the other men in the long line thought of him. He wasn't some random cowpoke applying for a job at the ranch. Was that why these men were here? Was Grant doing some hiring? Maybe one of the wranglers had given notice.

He entered the office with a friendly greeting for Grant on his lips, but stopped short in the doorway as if he'd slammed into an invisible force field. Laney was sitting behind Grant's desk with those silly reading glasses of hers perched on the end of her nose. She looked completely out of her element, her hair combed back into a neat ponytail, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink and her full lips curved up at the corners. She looked as neat and fresh as a bouquet of tulips in a room that was anything but. Her appearance was a stark contrast to the rest of her surroundings. Random piles of papers and file folders littered the top of the desk. The smell of sweat and leather permeated the room and lingered in the stale air.

And that was to say nothing of the sloppily-dressed wrangler standing before the desk, dusty hat in hand and one side of his shirt untucked and dangling like a tail at the back of his well-worn blue jeans. The man flashed Slade an irritated frown, which Slade completely ignored. The wrangler didn't worry him. He was far more concerned about Laney's thunderous scowl and the lightning flashing in her brown eyes.

Fire and ice. Everything about the woman was contrary.

“What's going on here?” He could guess, but he wanted to hear it from her. He leaned his shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest.

Her eyes narrowed and her spine straightened. “Excuse me?”

The lanky wrangler across from Laney turned and faced Slade. “Look, buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but there's an interview goin' on here, and in case you didn't notice, there's a line outside the door. You wanna talk to the missus here, go wait your turn with the rest of the boys.”

Slade was many things, but a
boy
he wasn't. He stared the man down for a moment before shifting his gaze to Laney, who didn't quite meet his eyes.

Yep. He knew it. The woman had definitely bitten off more than she could chew. If she ended up hiring some mouthy cowpoke like the guy standing in front of her, there would be no end to the trouble she'd find herself in. The fellow would take advantage of her at every turn. In fact, he was fairly certain most of the cowboys hanging outside the office fell into that category. He couldn't imagine why Grant thought he could leave her alone to handle whatever hiring was being done here. Laney was so far out of her element it wasn't even funny, and he suspected she knew it.

“You,” he said, pointing to the cowboy and then jerking his thumb toward the door. “Out.”

The man clenched his fists around the brim of his hat and pressed his chest out like a rooster. Slade knew a challenge when he saw one. He stood to his full six-two height and took a single step forward. He didn't need to posture. The warning in his gaze would be enough to send the scrawny man running, if the fellow had any sense.

“This ain't over,” the man threatened, jamming his hat on his head before stomping out the door.

“Yeah, whatever.” Slade grinned in satisfaction and nodded at Laney. “That guy won't be back.”

Laney stood up so fast she knocked a pile of file folders to the floor. “Getting rid of him was
not
your decision to make.”

Wait—what?

He'd just saved her the major hassle of having to find a way to boot that guy to the curb. She ought to be thanking him right now. Unless...

“You weren't seriously thinking about—”

Laney cut him off. “No, of course I wasn't. Contrary to what certain people around here believe about me, I do have a brain in my head.”

He'd never said—never even
thought
—she was stupid, but she was staring at him as if he'd just openly accused her of that very thing.

No. Not staring.

Glaring
daggers at him.

“Are you quite finished trying to take over my interviewing?” she demanded. “Because as you can see from the line outside, I'm super busy right now and I don't have time for your nonsense.”

His
nonsense
? Now that was getting personal.

So she didn't want him to stick around. Then forget formalities. He'd cut straight to the chase. If she didn't like it, then too bad for her. He was making this his business now whether she wanted him to or not. She was clearly in over her head, and he wouldn't let her be taken advantage of. “You didn't answer my question. What are you doing with these guys? Whose position are you looking to fill?”

“Not that it's any of your affair, but I'm looking to hire a foreman.” Her brow furrowed and strained lines appeared over her pinched lips.

So she was—what? Cutting Grant off from his own ranch and the only life the man had ever known? And all this after she'd assured him—them—that nothing would change. Anger burned in Slade's gut, rising upward to spread across his shoulder and neck. It was all he could do to keep himself in check.

He should have known better than to trust a woman. To trust Laney.

“Why?” It was the only word he could manage without coming apart on her. He tensed for the answer, ready to be mentally sideswiped and thoroughly prepared to fight back. Baby or no baby, he wasn't going to let Laney step all over Brody's parents. He didn't care what Brody's will said, or what he'd promised the Becketts in regards to Laney. She was not going to get away with this.

“Why?” she repeated, shaking her head. She stared at him with wide, innocent eyes. The woman actually had the gall to look confused, as if she didn't know why he was upset. “Why what? Why I'm hiring a foreman?”

She was trying to play him for a fool. Well, he was having none of it. No woman was going to pull the wool over his eyes, especially not Laney Beckett. She may have fooled Brody, but she'd never get to him.

“Last time I checked, Grant ran this ranch. He's never seen the need to have a foreman before. He's always handled everything himself.”

And he didn't need a foreman now.
He didn't say the words aloud. He didn't have to. Clearly Laney understood what was not being said. Good for her. She could read between the lines.

She gave an exasperated sigh. “So that's what this is about. You're worried about the Becketts.”

“Yeah, that's what this is about,” Slade growled, seething in frustration as he jerked his head toward the doorway. “How am I supposed to take it when I see all those guys out there waiting to take over Grant's life's work?”

With measured steps, Laney returned to her seat behind the desk and gestured to the chair opposite, then leaned down to collect the folders she'd previously knocked to the floor. He, on the other hand, was less smooth in his movements. He stomped to the chair she offered and threw himself into it with a grunt, even going so far as to prop his booted feet on the desktop.

She stared pointedly at his boots and then shook her head, not taking up the bait.

“I'm not trying to hurt Grant,” she said, her voice and her gaze softening. “I'm trying to help him.”

“By replacing him?” Slade tried to control his tone but knew the question sounded sharp, even judgmental. He couldn't help it, because that was exactly how he was feeling at the moment, and he'd never been very good at masking his emotions.

“I'm not replacing him, exactly. Just finding both of us some extra assistance until I can get my feet under me. He needs more help than I can give him right now, especially until I have the baby. After that, we'll see.”

She was talking about Grant as if he was some doddering old senior, not the strong, vibrant rancher who spent every day in the saddle.

“If you think any of that bunch out there can do what Grant does, then you don't know the first thing about running a ranch,” Slade said. He would have continued, but Laney cut him off with a frown and a slash of her hand.

“Not that it's any of your business, but you don't need to point out my weaknesses to me. I'm perfectly aware that I have a huge learning curve to conquer.” She met his gaze squarely. “And I know I'm not in the best position right now to be taking on ranch work. But make no mistake—I will figure all of this out, even if it takes me a while to get everything straight. I'm determined to do whatever it takes to keep Baby Beckett's legacy on solid ground, so to speak. Nothing and nobody is going to get in my way.”

She almost made it sound as if
he
was the one blocking her progress. He bristled.
He
wasn't the one they were talking about right now. “So you're just pushing Grant out of your way?”

Laney looked as if she was about to blow a fuse. He could actually see it in the cherry-red flush of her face. If ever there was a time when he felt like ducking and running for cover, this was it. The woman was ready to explode, and he was the target. “No. Of course not. Nothing remotely like that. I can't even believe you would suggest such a thing. I would never disrespect Grant that way.”

“You already have. He doesn't need extra help.”

Her gaze locked with his. “Yes, Slade. He does.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about. He's spent nearly every day of his life out here working on the ranch.”

“Exactly. I'm not saying he's over the hill, but he's tired. The two of us have talked about it at length. He always assumed Brody would settle down and take responsibility for the ranch some day. Brody passed that duty over to me when he left me the ranch in his will, and I want to do whatever I can to lighten Grant's load. Someday I pray Brody's child will have the honor of taking over this land, but in the meantime, I have every intention of hiring someone knowledgeable to show me the ropes. I've got a long road ahead of me if I'm going to keep the Becketts' cattle business in the black. I need to know every aspect of the business, and I figure a good foreman will be the best way to do that.”