Expecting the Rancher's Child (Callahan's Clan) (7 page)

He hadn’t ever seen a family like this one. Blake’s half brothers had a mother who loved them, but she had divorced their dad. She was often gone, and when she was home she seldom had male guests.

Some of Blake’s friends had two parents who seemed happy with each other, but they didn’t have the warmth and love that radiated in subtle ways from Sierra’s parents.

In this big family, everyone seemed to love and care about everyone else and be genuinely welcoming to their guests.

Blake began to see why money was not of the utmost importance to Sierra. She had a supportive family. They were all there for each other, and she was grounded in that assurance. His gaze shifted to her as she came out of the house, her arms loaded with equipment. He hurried to take it from her, his hands brushing hers.

“I can get this stuff. This is heavy. I’ll come get the next load.”

“That’s it for now,” she said. “Thanks for helping.”

“You have an interesting family,” he said, wishing they were alone so he could give her a hug. “They’re all very likable people.”

“Thank you. I think they’re great, and we’ll all have fun tomorrow. You’ll see.”

A little boy came around the corner of the house, crying loudly.

“Someone is unhappy,” she said. “I’ll go help.” She went to pick him up. Blake had no idea which child he was or to whom he belonged.

As he continued to help load the truck, he watched Sierra wipe away the child’s tears, set him on his feet and hold his hand. Whatever she told him brought a smile to his face, and together they disappeared into the house.

By ten o’clock that night, when most of Sierra’s family had said good-night and gone to their own homes, he sat alone with her in the big family room of her parents’ two-story house. He smiled at her and shook his head. “I’ll never get all the names. We’ll go back to Texas before I have half of them figured out.”

She smiled at him—an enticing smile that flashed with warmth. “You’re being modest. You did pretty well tonight. You were a hit with my dad, talking about the early days of the railroads—he loves trains and has a library of train books. I’ll show you tomorrow. Right now, I just want to sit and relax.”

“We can’t do what I want to do, but sitting and relaxing will be okay.”

“I’m not asking what you want to do, and don’t tell me.”

“I didn’t tell you, but I think you know. I just wanted to hear you say you want to do the same thing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re shameless.”

“No, I’m fun,” he answered, and her smile widened as she shook her head. “You were a hit with them tonight—even the youngest. He followed you around. I’m surprised. You’ve said you’re never around kids.”

“I have the magic touch with kids and dogs and beautiful women. Come sit closer and I’ll show you,” he said, having fun flirting with her.

“I’m staying right where I am. The ‘magic touch with kids,’ huh? When are you ever around kids?”

“Tonight,” he answered. She shook her head.

“You’ll be around them tomorrow. That’s for sure. We’ll have a lot of people at the picnic.”

“You had a lot of people here tonight. Too bad Cade couldn’t spend an evening like this with your family. He needs to see a family like yours and know that love and harmony are possible.”

“Cade? He seems happy enough.”

“All his life, Cade has vowed he will never marry because our father inflicted so much grief on so many people. He wasn’t a good father to his children or a good husband to his wives. He had a string of mistresses, and I know some of them were as unhappy with him as his ex-wives were. Financially, he was an enormous success, and that’s what you read about him, but with close friends and family he was a dismal failure. Cade is scared of ending up like him.”

“That’s ridiculous because Cade is such a nice person. At least, he seemed nice when I met him.”

“He is nice, and I’ve told you he has a warped view of marriage because of our dad. I can’t convince him. Seeing your family might. I don’t know how your folks cope with all the commotion.”

“This was just a regular weekend night, except for cooking and packing stuff into the pickups to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised you ever left here for New York.”

“I was ambitious, eager to see what I could do in interior design—it was an exciting time. I accomplished a lot until finally I reached a point where I wanted to be here and work here. Life changes.”

Relaxing, he stretched out his legs. He wanted to sit close beside her, but he knew she would prefer he stayed right where he was. To his surprise, he enjoyed just sitting with her the way they were now. Twice he heard the deep chimes of a grandfather clock from the hallway, and he knew the hour was growing late, but he didn’t want to leave her.

When she stood, he came to his feet. “It’s late, and tomorrow will come early.”

He helped her switch off lights until there was only the dim glow from the stairs. He grasped her upper arm and turned her to face him. “Come here just a minute,” he said, wrapping his arm around her to draw her close and kiss her before she could protest.

The moment his mouth covered hers, she melted against him. He held her tightly, kissing her, wanting her and wishing they were alone, back on his ranch.

When she stepped out of his embrace she was as breathless as he was. Her big blue eyes were wide, filled with so much desire that he couldn’t get his breath and had to struggle to control the urge to take her upstairs.

He wanted to kiss her again, but he let her go. He couldn’t understand the reaction he had to her. Seeing her family, her background, should have emphasized their differences and how foreign her life was to him. With her positive view of the world, she shouldn’t have been able to hold his interest more than a few hours. Instead, she not only held his interest, she set him on fire and had ruined his sleep for nights.

“It’s late,” she said softly, walking away. He caught up with her and walked in silence to her bedroom door, where she faced him.

“Goodnight. I’ll see you shortly after sunrise.” She stepped inside and closed the door without waiting for him to reply.

Blake lay awake in the dark for a long time in a room that had to have been shared by both of her brothers because it still held high school trophies and memorabilia. He couldn’t sleep. He wanted Sierra in his arms. How long would it take him to forget her after she finished the job for him and went home?

If he had asked himself that question two weeks earlier, he would have thought it would take a day to move on, take someone else out and forget Sierra. He knew better than that now. In her quiet way, she had ensnared him. For the first time, he realized he had finally met a woman who might be difficult for him to say goodbye to.

Maybe if he could get his fill of sex with her, it would be easier to walk away. He’d be happy to test that theory when they returned to Dallas.

* * *

Saturday was a warm spring day. Sierra walked into the kitchen as her mom checked on biscuits in the oven and her dad scrambled eggs. Dressed in cutoffs and a blue knit shirt, her sister Ginger set the table, while her sister Lenora helped her niece, two-year-old Penny, with her oatmeal. To Sierra’s surprise, Blake poured orange juice into glasses on a tray to carry to the table. As he looked up, she drew a deep breath. In tight jeans that emphasized his narrow waist and long legs, Blake made her pulse jump. His brown knit shirt revealed muscles hardened from ranch work.

“Good morning. I’m here to help,” she announced. As his gaze swept over her, she was suddenly aware of her cutoffs and clinging red knit shirt. She tried to ignore the tingles his one glance caused.

“Great,” her dad said, holding out a spoon. “Come stir these eggs, and I’ll see about the strawberries.”

From that moment on, she had little chance for more than a “good morning” to Blake, but she was acutely aware of him as he moved around the kitchen helping with breakfast.

“Where are the guys? Are they still asleep?” she asked. “Blake, why are you the only male besides Dad who is cooking?”

“Rita and Damon’s car broke down, and your brothers have gone to help them,” Homer Benson said, slicing washed strawberries. “One of the pickups has a flat, and Roger and Jason are changing it. Blake volunteered to go help, and they told him to stay to help me.”

“Well, aren’t you nice,” she said, smiling at Blake. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” he said, his words friendly even though his dark eyes held unmistakable desire.

She stirred fluffy yellow eggs, and they soon had breakfast on the table as her other nieces and nephews began to appear. They sat to eat breakfast, and Blake held a chair for her, his hands brushing her lightly as he helped her before sitting next to her.

All through breakfast, she was aware of him at her side. The family included him in their conversation as they always did with any visitors. Soon her brothers, sister, brothers-in-law and more kids joined them.

Sierra was busy the rest of the day, but she searched for Blake in the crowd, hoping he was enjoying himself. At one point, he had joined in helping with games, participating with the kids. He seemed to truly care about the children and the people around him. His actions were so different from what he said in their conversations. Maybe making money wasn’t his sole focus in life. But that knowledge didn’t make it easier to resist his appeal. In fact, she was getting more involved with him.

She’d hoped he would get a glimmer of what his money was doing. She hoped this weekend would interest Blake in the agency, in her father’s church and in the people whose lives he could change. And he could so easily contribute. She was certain he supported charities, but she was equally certain his support was simply writing checks and letting others handle the donations for him. She wanted him to get up close and personally involved with the kids and people his money helped.

They hadn’t been at the picnic five minutes when Bert appeared with Nan beside him. “We’re so happy you’re here for this picnic,” Nan said. “And you brought Blake Callahan. That’s great.”

“I think he’ll enjoy being here.”

“How’s the job going, Sierra? Do you think you’re halfway through yet?” Bert asked. “We miss you here.”

“The job is going well, but I miss the agency. No, I’m not halfway through yet, but I’ll be home for good before you know it. Bert, will you set this basket on the long table with the red plastic cover? Nan, you can come help me over here.”

“Sure,” Nan said, smiling broadly. “Bert worries all day, every day about you,” she said as soon as they walked away. “Nothing new there. I want to say hello to Blake.”

“Say hello and whatever else you want,” Sierra said, smiling at her assistant, aware Blake had local women and some of the teenage girls fluttering around him. In minutes, Nan stood talking to Blake while Sierra carried another basket of food to a table.

Along with all her family, Blake helped cook burgers. By two, soccer, badminton and baseball were in progress.

Mid-afternoon found her and Blake helping with scorekeeping and coaching kids playing baseball. Between innings, Blake paused beside her. “There’s a kid sitting over there who doesn’t play. He’s one who hasn’t played anything so far, and he doesn’t engage with the others. Is there a physical reason, or something else? He’s sitting on the bench with the kids, but he doesn’t talk to them, and they leave him alone, too.”

“That’s William. Maybe you can relate a little, although he’s on a different financial level. His dad abandoned them at birth, and his mom was killed in a car wreck when he was five. He’s eight now, and he lives in the shelter because he doesn’t have relatives.”

“What do you do with a kid like that?”

“Just be friends with him. I’m not a social worker, though there is one who works at the shelter. William doesn’t make friends like some kids do.”

She patted Blake’s wrist. “See, this is where some of your donation will help. We may be able to get more resources for these kids.”

“I think he needs more than what money can buy.”

“I won’t argue that one,” she said, surprised Blake would acknowledge that truth.

“One item your money bought is the automatic batting machine the kids are enjoying today. It sends the ball straight to them, and they have a better chance of getting a hit because when little kids pitch, the ball is all over the place. You see their smiles? We have lots to thank you for.”

“Sure,” he said, gazing solemnly at her before shifting his attention back to the boy who sat on the bench, scuffing his toe in the dirt. “I hope the money helps get more than a batting machine,” Blake said.

He walked away, and when she looked again she was surprised to see him sitting beside William. Blake had a bat in his hands and seemed to be talking to William about playing ball.

She was busy with kids and watching third base, cheering for each child who could get a hit or run in for a score. By the end of the inning, she looked around and saw Blake showing William how to hold the bat.

The next inning, William stepped up to home plate. She asked someone to take her place and walked over to Blake.

“I see William is going to play. That was fast work.”

“He hasn’t said a dozen words to me, but he listened and he agreed to give this a try. I told him that people get better when they try and when they practice.”

“Whatever you told him, you got through to him. That’s pretty good, Blake. I’m impressed.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I want to move closer where I can coach a little,” he said.

“I thought you said Blake had never been around kids,” her mother said, stopping beside Sierra.

“He hasn’t until today—that’s what he told me.”

“Well, then I’m glad you invited him. If he just helps one child, it’ll be really good. Did you tell him that some of his donation went for the batting machine and some of the sports equipment?”

“Yes, I did. If he helps William, that’ll be a small miracle, but in some ways, Blake can relate to William and vice versa.”

“It’s a stretch, but both of them having no dad is a common bond,” her mother said as they watched William swing and miss. Blake talked to him. When William swung again, the ball glanced off the bat and was a foul. On the third swing, the bat connected and the ball bounced away while she heard Blake yell for William to run. The boy on third scooped up the ball and threw it wide, and William touched first base. He turned to Blake and grinned while kids and adults clapped.