Father For Her Newborn Baby. Lynne Marshall

Father For Her Newborn Baby - Lynne Marshall


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and it always came back to the same conclusion—there was nothing she could do about that now. And that was why she’d come to Wyoming, to make up for it. To start over. To give her baby a good start in life.

      Her little scientific experiment had worked. She’d formed her hypothesis, tested it, and analyzing her data—sitting in silence, the dim light from the hallway making his shadow large and looming, mouth firmly shut—he wouldn’t and didn’t know what to do with the truth. Yep, she’d been right.

      “So how are we going to work this out?” Cole’s deep voice cut through her thoughts, his rugged yet handsome face dappled in moonlight and shadows.

      “You mean my working for you? Or my living here with a colicky baby?”

      He nodded, his laser gaze, noticeable even in the dim light, nearly making her squirm. “Part A.”

      Under the sweater, she shifted Flora to the other breast and waited until she latched on. “Well, while you were at the hospital I had a long talk with Gretchen. She seems to have an unfulfilled grandmotherly gene. She said she’d be happy to take care of Flora when I work.”

      “Maybe you should just work part-time at first.”

      She wanted to yell, Don’t you get it? I’m broke. I need the money! But she swallowed another sip of tea instead. “But you hired me to work full-time. I want to keep my side of the bargain.”

      He went quiet again and studied his expensive brand-name shoes. The man oozed wealth. And good looks. “I’m glad to pay you the amount Trevor agreed on, but maybe at first you can come in half days or something.”

      “You do realize that women only get six weeks’ maternity leave in the US and return to work all the time, right? I’m that single mother in med school who never missed an overnight shift, and my only support system was other med students. I graduated the same day as everyone else with my baby swaddled in a sling across my chest. People do what they’ve got to do, you know? Gretchen said she’s happy to help. Let me do what you hired me for, okay?”

       Take that!

      “That’s commendable. I’ll give you that.” He remained thoughtful, probably analyzing her plea, seeing right through her, figuring out how desperate she was. “I suspect Dad will be in the hospital at least a week, and then be sent to rehab after that. Once he comes home, though, Gretchen will have her hands full caring for him.”

      “You’ve got a point, but by then I can find other child-care arrangements.” Keep positive even against the odds. You’ve got to.

      He thought for a moment or two. “Reasonable enough.” Whew! He put down his teacup and slapped his big palms on his thighs. “Well, I’ll leave you and Flora to your feeding. It’s been a long day.”

      She nodded. “I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

      Before he left the room, she studied his huge silhouette in the doorway, broad shoulders, long torso, big in every way, a man’s man. Fine-looking man. Yet he’d been gentle with Flora. Was it totally wrong to find your new employer sexy? Yet she couldn’t deny she did.

      “May I ask you a question?” It had been bothering her since she’d noticed the identical scars on his forehead when she’d first met him, and to be honest she needed something to get her mind off how attracted she was to him.

      He turned. The epitome of patience… and gentleman cowboy… sexy.

      “Did you have a broken neck?”

      The hallway light cut across his profile. He scrunched up his face, obviously surprised by her comment. “Another astute observation, Dr. Silva. I take it my halo-brace scars tipped you off?”

      She nodded, trying not to look smug, though definitely feeling it.

      “When I was fifteen I was riding a bucking bronco, got bucked off and fractured C1-C2. I was fortunate not to have a spinal-cord injury, as you can obviously tell.” He held out his arms, palms up, looking over his own body.

      “No need for fusion?”

      “Three months wearing that brace did the trick. It also changed my life goal of becoming a rodeo star.” He smiled and deep vertical grooves cut through his cheeks. Yeah, that was sexy, too.

      But his confession made her laugh outright. “A rodeo star?”

      “You’re looking at Cattleman Bluff’s former junior rodeo bucking-bronco champion.” He said the mouthful with an amused twinkle in his eyes, as if the title might have carried some clout around here at one time.

      But rodeo stars were as foreign as extraterrestrials to a girl from Boston. “I’d say I was impressed, if I had a clue what that meant.” If this was her idea of flirting, she wasn’t doing a very good job.

      His closed-lip smile widened slowly, finally revealing a fine line of teeth, and the effect, combined with the lingering glint in his eyes, sent a shiver through her. Oh, man, this could be bad. Dr. Montgomery is gorgeous.

      She swallowed. “I’m sure you were a regular star around these parts.” She tried out her version of cowboy talk, her accent no doubt falling far short of the mark. These pahts. Come to think of it, she could imagine him in dungarees and a torso-hugging cowboy shirt. And what she’d give to see the man wearing a cowboy hat.

      “Easy come, easy go,” he said.

      “Sounds pretty ouchy to me.”

      “That, too. I guess you can say I’m a doctor today because of that accident.”

      “Weird how life goes sometimes, isn’t it?”

      “Yeah.” He gave her statement some thought. “Well, I hope you both get a good night’s sleep.”

      “Thank you.” She imagined sympathy in his eyes, and, though she didn’t want his pity, she appreciated his caring on some level. These days she didn’t have anyone in her corner, with the exception of Dr. Rivers, and he was far away.

      “I also want you to know that, if it hadn’t been for you, my father might have been a hell of a lot worse off. You haven’t even begun to work in the clinic, and you’ve already impressed me.”

      He’d paid her a compliment, and this from a man who didn’t seem to do heartfelt. It made her beam. “Thanks. I hardly know your dad, but I like him. He’s got a lot of spunk.”

      “Yeah. He’s probably too stubborn to die, but the thought of dealing with his aphasia, well, let’s just say, we’ll all be miserable. I’m hoping his symptoms will resolve quickly.”

      “Me, too.”

      “Well, like I said, thanks to your fast thinking. Good night.” With that he turned and headed in the opposite direction from her bedroom wing. She watched him for a while, thinking that for a big man he moved with grace, and she definitely liked his style.

      Flora had fallen asleep. Lizzie rose gently, hoping not to wake her, and started toward her room. It had been a crazy first-day meeting at the Montgomery ranch. How was she supposed to know there was a wedding going on? And a stroke? Sure was one hell of a way to break the ice with the family, though.

      Cole seemed more city slicker than rancher, but thanks to his taking the time to talk with her she’d gotten a glimpse of his inner cowboy, which had probably shaped the man he’d become. The thing that really mixed her up, though, was she really, really liked what she’d seen.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      COLE WAS TOO keyed-up to sleep. Worries about his father had peaked a few hours back when he’d been assured by the attending physician that Tiberius Montgomery was stable. He’d sat by his father’s hospital bedside and watched him sleep for an hour or so after that, then decided, as the doctor


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