The Texan's Surprise Son. Cathy Mcdavid
his little denim jacket, re-fastening the buttons that had mysteriously come loose during the ride.
She’d have preferred Cody wear something newer and without a hole in the left sleeve. But this particular jacket was his favorite, and he’d pitched a fit when she tried to put him in a hooded sweatshirt. Even his favorite cartoon character on the front hadn’t swayed him.
He would have run ahead if not for her firm grip on his hand. As it was, he pulled her and the diaper bag along like a heavy anchor through water.
“Slow down, honey,” Mariana admonished.
The house, a newer one-story with tan stucco exterior and—this was good—a block fence enclosing the rear yard, sat on a corner lot. Hopefully, Jacob didn’t own a pool. Toddlers and water were a dangerous combination.
Mariana thought it interesting that he didn’t live at the Roughneck, his family’s ranch. The place was certainly big enough. Then again, this house was closer to the drill site where he worked. Or maybe he simply liked his privacy.
If he assumed any level of custody, he’d soon lose that luxury. There was no such thing as privacy with a two-year-old in the house. If presented with a closed door or locked cabinet, Cody felt compelled to holler until it opened or his lungs gave out.
Her high heels wobbled as they walked along the slate rock path leading to the front door. Changing clothes beforehand would have been nice. There’d been no time, however. Mariana was barely able to rush from the office to day care, navigate traffic and still make it here—she glanced at her watch—twelve minutes late.
Jacob opened the door seconds after she rang the bell. Had he been watching from the window?
“Hello,” he said in a neutral voice, his gaze meeting hers briefly before traveling to Cody where it remained. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” She required a moment to collect her wits.
He looked good. His short dark hair appeared freshly combed, and the scent of soap clung to him as if he’d recently washed up. Like her, he hadn’t changed from work. His pale blue chambray shirt had a Baron Energies logo embroidered on the front pocket and the sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong, muscled forearms.
Mariana was beginning to think he could dress in a ratty T-shirt and gym shorts and she’d still be affected. How might he look in, say, a suit? Or, better yet, a tuxedo?
She wagged a mental finger at herself, warning her mind not to go there. Theirs was a business meeting. Of sorts, anyway. There were certainly business matters to discuss.
“This is Cody.” She propelled the boy ahead of her, realizing only then that he’d stopped jabbering.
In fact, his small mouth literally hung open, and he stared up at Jacob with enormous eyes.
“How do you do, pal?” Jacob smiled. If one could call the thin slash splitting the lower half of his face a smile.
Was he nervous? Angry? Shy? Distrustful? All of the above?
Cody suddenly flung himself at Mariana, hugging her legs with all his strength, and whimpered.
“It’s all right, honey.”
She stroked his downy soft hair, not noticing until right that moment how much it resembled Jacob’s. Only a shade lighter. The shape of his face was similar, too. As was the color of his eyes.
“I didn’t know if you might be hungry.” Jacob started through the living room.
Mariana and a reluctant Cody followed. “Cody can always eat. He’s not fussy like some kids.” Actually, Mariana didn’t know anything about other kids. She was repeating her mother’s frequent declarations. “I’m not really hungry.”
She spoke too soon. The moment they entered the kitchen, a delicious aroma had her practically drooling. When was the last time she’d eaten a meal that wasn’t takeout or purchased in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store?
“You cook?” she blurted without thinking, then could have kicked herself for being rude.
“I got home a little early. Figured if I was hungry, you and Cody might be, too.”
“One of us had animal crackers on the drive over.”
“Can I take that for you?” He reached for the diaper bag, and their fingers brushed.
He didn’t pull immediately away. Mariana glanced up to find him staring at her. Instantly, her mouth went dry. Oh, boy.
“Mariana.”
“Yes?”
The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Let go of the handle.”
“Oops. Sorry.” She watched him stow the diaper bag on the floor just around the corner, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Men didn’t do this to her. She didn’t let them.
Pretending nothing was amiss, she said, “You have a nice place.”
“Thanks.”
The house wasn’t huge, but comfortable and tastefully decorated. Also tidy. Tidier even than her house. Seems Jacob was Mr. Homemaker.
Yeah, well, wait till Cody worked his toddler magic. She considered warning Jacob to enjoy the clean while it lasted.
All at once, Cody squealed with delight. Pulling his hand free of Mariana’s, he scrambled toward the table and what lay beneath it. “Puppy, puppy.”
It was then Mariana spotted the dog. “Cody, come back.” She flung herself forward, arms outstretched. For all she knew, the dog was a vicious brute.
“It’s okay,” Jacob said. “Buster’s used to kids.”
The dog raised his head to stare at Cody, who dropped to his hands and knees in order to crawl between the chairs.
“Are you sure?” Mariana fretted, ready to put herself between her nephew and any danger.
“He’s a retired show dog. Buster’s given more than two thousand performances all over the country. Mostly at rodeos and fund-raisers. But also schools and children’s wards at hospitals.”
As Mariana watched, Buster gave Cody’s face a thorough licking. The boy went insane with happiness and launched into a rapid-fire, one-sided conversation only he could understand.
“What exactly does a show dog do?” she asked, her eyes still glued on Cody.
“Tricks. I’ll show you after dinner.” Jacob reached into the cupboard for plates. “Though his repertoire isn’t what it used to be. Buster’s lost almost all his hearing.”
“He doesn’t look old.”
“He’s not really. Only eight. Just one of those things.” Flatware and salad bowls accompanied the plates. “I’m friends with his former owner and handler. Met the guy years ago on the circuit. He has a new dog now and travels a lot. Buster was left home alone.”
“You travel a lot,” Mariana commented.
“This year, I have. The girl next door watches Buster. Sometimes I think he loves her more than me.”
A two-year-old boy wasn’t like a dog. He couldn’t leave Cody in the neighbor girl’s care when he went on the road.
Mariana concentrated on slowing her thoughts. Just because she and Cody were there was no reason to jump to conclusions. Jacob hadn’t mentioned anything about custody.
He opened the oven door and removed a steaming casserole pan. “I fixed chicken. Figured everyone likes that. Am I wrong?”
“Cody loves chicken, though he needs his portion cut into bite-size pieces.”
He set the platter in the center of the table. There were also chunks of roasted potatoes and carrots in with the chicken. “Come and get it.”
“Afraid