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The Cowboy and His Baby Page 11


  The horse neighed softly at hearing her name.

  Cody glanced at Melissa and saw that she’d finally begun to relax. Her gaze was riveted on her daughter, though. He sensed that if Misty so much as shied back a step, Melissa was poised to snatch Sharon Lynn out of harm’s way.

  Just when he thought the worst of her reaction was past, she turned and looked up at him, anxiety and dismay clearly written all over her face. “How can your father even think about getting on a horse ever again?” she asked in a low voice, not meant to carry.

  As if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, Cody finally realized why Melissa had been so upset by Harlan introducing Sharon Lynn to riding. The accident that had cost his mother her life hadn’t even crossed his mind when Harlan had suggested bringing Sharon Lynn out to see the horses. But obviously the way Mary Adams had died had left an indelible image on Melissa’s mind, as it might on anyone who didn’t have the sensitivity of a slug, Cody chided himself. She had been fearful of horses to begin with. His mother’s death could only have exaggerated that fear.

  “Damn, no wonder you turned white as a sheet a minute ago when Daddy suggested bringing Sharon Lynn out here,” he apologized. “You were thinking about what happened to Mother, weren’t you?”

  “Aren’t you?” she asked, staring at him incredulously.

  “No,” he said honestly. “There’s no point in blaming the horse for what happened to Mother. It was an accident and not an uncommon one at that. The horse was spooked by a snake. Even then, the fall might not have killed her. It was the way she landed.”

  Melissa shuddered. “Still, how can either one of you not think about it every single time you see a horse?”

  “Because Daddy is a rancher, through and through. So am I,” Cody said, trying to explain to Melissa what must seem inexplicable. “There are some things over which a rancher has no control. Rattlers spooking a horse is one of them.”

  He glanced at his father. “If he blames anyone or anything for what happened to Mother, it’s more than likely himself for suggesting that ride in the first place. He also knows that the only way to conquer the fear after what happened is to get right back on a horse. He’s been out riding over that same stretch of land every single day since she died.”

  Melissa clearly wasn’t reassured. “I don’t care about conquering fear. All I see is that your mother’s death should be a damn good reason for him not to bring his granddaughter anywhere near a horse,” she argued. “She’s a baby, Cody.”

  Cody was beginning to see there was no reasoning with her on this. It was too soon after his mother’s tragic accident. “If it’s really upsetting you, I’ll talk him out of it,” he offered. “But sooner or later, Sharon Lynn will ride. She can’t have a cowboy for a daddy and not learn.”

  Melissa rested her hand on his forearm. The expression on her face pleaded with him.

  “Later, please,” she said. “Just the thought of it after what happened to your mom makes me sick.”

  Cody could see that she wasn’t exaggerating. Though he didn’t agree with her, he could feel some compassion for the anxiety she was experiencing. He walked over and spoke to his father. Harlan shot a look over his shoulder at Melissa and gave an understanding nod.

  “Of course,” he apologized at once. “I didn’t realize it would bother her so.”

  “Neither did I,” Cody said. “But she’s practically turning green.”

  “You take this little angel on inside, then. I’ll be there in a bit.”

  Cody reached for his daughter, who let out a scream the instant she realized she was being taken away from the horse.

  “Mi’ty!” she sobbed plaintively. “Mi’ty!”

  “You’ll see Misty another time,” Cody promised. “Right now, I’m going to take you inside so you can see all of your new toys that Granddaddy bought you.”

  He wasn’t sure if Sharon Lynn totally understood exactly what having Harlan Adams as a benefactor was all about until they reached the room he’d filled with everything from a set of white baby furniture with pink gingham sheets and comforter to every stuffed toy he’d been able to order straight from the biggest department store in Dallas. Even Cody had been bowled over by the assortment he’d assembled practically overnight. Melissa’s mouth was agape as she surveyed the room.

  “Did he buy out the store?” Melissa asked.

  Before Cody could respond, Sharon Lynn was trying to scramble down, her gaze fixed on the rocking horse.

  “Mi’ty, Mi’ty,” she called joyously as she dropped from unsteady legs to her knees to crawl toward it. She pulled herself up beside it and tried to climb on. Cody lifted her up and settled her on the seat, keeping a firm grip on the waistband of her pants as she rocked enthusiastically.

  He grinned at Melissa. “Told you she was going to be a natural on horseback.”

  “I think this one is a little more her size,” Melissa retorted dryly. “The distance to the ground isn’t quite so far.”

  Before he could comment on that, something else caught Sharon Lynn’s eye and she twisted around and tried to clamber down. Cody lifted her off the rocking horse and set her back on her feet.

  “How about you walk wherever you want to go this time?” he suggested.

  Sharon Lynn clamped her fingers around his, wobbled precariously, then took an unsteady tiptoe step forward. With each step her confidence obviously mounted, though she kept that tight grip on his fingers.

  “She’s going to ruin your back,” Melissa observed. “You’re bent practically double.”

  Cody didn’t give a hoot. This was the first time he’d witnessed his daughter’s faltering, tentative footsteps. He’d bend over the rest of the afternoon and ache for a week, if she wanted to keep walking. With every minute he spent with her, every experience they shared, the powerful sense of connection he felt with her intensified.

  Just then she stumbled and fell. Her eyes promptly filled with tears. Certain that she must have broken something to be sobbing so pathetically, Cody knelt beside her and gently examined ankles, arms, knees and elbows. He even checked for a bump under her hair or on her forehead, though he knew perfectly well she hadn’t hit her head. She’d landed squarely on her well-padded button.

  Finally satisfied that she was more scared than hurt, he scooped her up, only to find Melissa grinning at him.

  “And you thought I was overreacting. At this rate, you’re going to be a wreck in a month,” she chided, sounding smug. “Either that or you’ll drive the emergency room staff at the hospital completely wild. They’ll flee when they spot you coming.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Is this another chunk of that learning curve you’re trying to help me skip?” he taunted.

  To his amusement, she blushed furiously. “Stop teasing. I only took her in twice,” she admitted defensively.

  “Oh? When?”

  “The first time I thought she’d swallowed the toy from a box of cereal.”

  Cody shuddered. He would have had her in for X rays himself. “Had she?”

  “No, I found it later in the crack between the refrigerator and the sink. I suppose she threw it across the room.”

  “And the other time?”

  “She fell and bumped her head,” Melissa said, shivering visibly at the recollection. “It terrified me. I’d never seen so much blood in my entire life. I was sure she was going to bleed to death before I got her to the hospital.”

  Cody’s heart skidded to a halt. He anxiously studied Sharon Lynn’s face for some sign of such a traumatic injury. He smoothed back her hair to get a better look at her forehead.

  “No stitches?” he asked when he could find no evidence of them.

  Melissa shrugged. “Not a one,” she confessed. “They put a butterfly bandage on it and sent us home. Apparently head injuries just bleed profusely. There was no permanent damage done.”

  Cody met her gaze and caught the faint signs of chagrin and laughter in her eyes. He also thought he det
ected something else, perhaps a hint of resentment that she’d been left to cope with such things on her own. Guilt sliced through him, even though part of the blame for his absence could be laid squarely at Melissa’s feet.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he said, and meant it. He regretted every lost opportunity to share in the experiences—good or bad—of his daughter’s first year.

  The laughter in Melissa’s eyes died at once. That hint of resentment burned brighter. “I handled it,” she said abruptly, and turned away.

  He watched as she walked over and knelt down by their daughter, listening intently to Sharon Lynn’s nonsensical jabbering. The hard expression on her face when she’d turned away from him softened perceptibly. A smile tugged at her lips as she cupped her hand possessively behind her daughter’s head, caressing the soft curls. Sharon Lynn looked up at her, an expression of adoration on her face.

  In that instant Cody saw what it meant to be a family…and he wasn’t a part of it. Melissa couldn’t have shut him out any more effectively, any more deliberately, if she’d tried.

  He stood there, so close and yet very much apart from them. Longing welled up inside him, longing to know all of these little details of Sharon Lynn’s first months that Melissa shared so grudgingly.

  There was so much more he yearned for, as well. He yearned to share their closeness, to have Melissa look into his eyes with something more than distrust.

  He sighed then, because it all seemed so unlikely, so impossible, thanks to his own foolish decision to accept what he’d seen that fateful night at face value. If only he’d stayed. If only…

  Wasted regrets, he chided himself. This was his reality—a child who barely knew him, a woman who wanted no part of him, who was willing to allow him glimpses of his child out of a sense of obligation, not love.

  He thought then of the flicker of passion he’d caught once or twice in Melissa’s sea green eyes, of the heat that had flared when he’d touched her, and wondered whether her disdain ran as deep as she wanted him to believe.

  Reality and circumstances could change, he reassured himself. Sometimes for the worse, of course. Harlan knew all about the dramatic, unexpected, tragic turns life could take. He’d lost a son and his beloved wife when he’d least expected it. Those losses had taught a lesson to all of them.

  Harlan had also taught his sons that they could control most aspects of their lives if they set their minds to it and fought for what they wanted. In fact, he’d turned out a dynasty of control freaks, it seemed. Luke had built his own ranch from the ground up, rather than take the share in White Pines that Harlan had wanted him to have. Jordan had fought his father bitterly for a career in the oil industry. Cody had battled for a share of White Pines, and now, it seemed, he had an even more difficult war to wage.

  Cody’s gaze settled on Melissa and his daughter once again. They were worth fighting for. Harlan had given him years of practice at battling for everything from permission to go to a dance to the right to build his own house on White Pines’ land. Apparently it had all been preparation for a moment like this.

  His mouth curved into a slow smile. He’d just have to think of Melissa’s rejection not as a setback but as a challenge. It was an opportunity to utilize all those lessons Harlan had not-so-subtly instilled in them. He would have to seize the initiative and keep Melissa thoroughly off kilter until she finally woke up and realized that this time he wasn’t running.

  This time he intended to be the steadying influence in her life and he meant to be there always.

  Chapter Ten

  The morning had been far too intense, Melissa thought as she finally escaped the house and settled gratefully into a chair on the patio with a tall glass of iced tea. The day had turned unseasonably warm and though she still needed her jacket, it was pleasant to sit outside in the fresh, clean air with the sun on her face while Sharon Lynn napped.

  Her emotions were raw. Coming back to White Pines had been far more difficult than she’d anticipated. Part of that was because she felt Mary Adams’s death here in a way it hadn’t struck her even at the funeral. Some of it had to do with Harlan’s warmhearted welcome and the obvious delight he was taking in getting to know his new granddaughter. Most of it, though, undeniably had to do with Cody.

  At White Pines she was on his turf. Like Harlan, he reigned over the operation of this ranch as comfortably as she served burgers at Dolan’s. His self-confidence radiated from him in this environment. It always had.

  Cody might have been wickedly flirtatious and carefree in his social life, but when it had come to work he’d been mature and driven to prove himself to his father. His early success as a ranch manager had smoothed away any insecurities he might have had living in Harlan Adams’s shadow.

  Cody’s command of this privileged world, combined with seeing how easily Sharon Lynn had been accepted into it as Cody’s child, had caused her to rebel. Earlier, as Sharon Lynn had taken a few faltering steps with Cody’s help, Melissa had had this awful, selfish feeling that Cody was benefiting from having a daughter without having done anything to deserve it beyond making her pregnant in the first place.

  He hadn’t coached her through labor. He hadn’t walked the floor with Sharon Lynn in the middle of the night. He hadn’t fretted and cried trying to figure out a way to calm her, all the while convinced he was a failure at parenting. He hadn’t been there to panic over the sight of the blood from that cut she had described to him earlier.

  No, he had simply waltzed back into their lives and expected to claim his parental rights by flashing his charming grin and dispensing toys like some cowboy Santa. Well, she wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t let it be that easy. He was going to have to earn a right to be a part of his daughter’s life…and of hers.

  That decided, she was troubled only by the realization that her demands were vague, that even she might not recognize when Cody had paid the dues she expected. Should she have a checklist? A timetable? Or would she finally know somewhere deep inside when she was through punishing him for being absent when she’d needed him the most?

  “You okay?” Harlan asked, coming out of the house and studying her worriedly.

  “Fine,” she said, fighting not to take her annoyance at Cody out on his father.

  Harlan was innocent in all of this. She had seen for herself the toll his wife’s death had taken on him and she was glad that bringing Sharon Lynn here had given him some pleasure. She was sorry that she had so stubbornly resisted the temptation to announce to all the world long ago that her child was Cody’s, just so that Harlan and Mary might have had the chance to know their grandchild from day one. The irony, of course, was that everyone in town had known it anyway.

  “If you’re so fine, how come you’re sitting out here in the cold all by yourself, looking as if you just lost your last friend in the world?” Harlan asked.

  “I didn’t lose him,” she said dryly. “I’m thinking of killing him.”

  Harlan’s blue eyes twinkled at her feisty tone. “Ah, I see. Cody can be a bit infuriating, I suppose.”

  “There’s no supposing about it. He is the most exasperating, egotistical…”

  “Talking about me?” the man in question inquired.

  He spoke in a lazy drawl that sent goose bumps dancing down Melissa’s spine despite her resolution to become totally immune to him. Obviously she still needed to work harder on her wayward hormones.

  “Which part clued you in?” she inquired. “Exasperating or egotistical?”

  Harlan chuckled at the exchange, then promptly clamped his mouth shut in response to a dire scowl from his son. “Sorry,” he said insincerely. “You two want to be left alone, or should I stick around to referee?”

  “Stay,” Melissa encouraged just as Cody said, “Go.”

  “Thank you, Melissa,” Harlan said, winking at her. “I think I’ll stay. The show promises to be downright fascinating. This time of day, good entertainment’s hard to come by. Nothing but ca
rtoons on TV.”

  “Daddy!” Cody warned.

  “Yes, son?”

  “We don’t need you here,” Cody insisted rudely.

  “Speak for yourself,” Melissa shot back.

  Cody strolled closer until he was standing practically knee-to-knee with her. He bent down, placed his hands on the arms of the chair and said very, very quietly, “Do you really want him to hear our private, personal, intimate conversation?”

  The gleam in his eyes was pure dare. Melissa swallowed hard. Surely Cody was just taunting her. She couldn’t imagine him saying anything to her that Harlan shouldn’t hear. And the truth of it was, she wanted Harlan here as a buffer just to make sure that the conversation stayed on a relatively impersonal track. She didn’t trust those slippery hormones of hers. They were liable to kick in when she least expected it.

  She shot a defiant look at the man who was scant inches from her face. “Yes,” she said emphatically.

  Cody appeared startled by the firm response. His lips twitched with apparent amusement.

  “Suit yourself, Me…liss…a.”

  The breath fanning across her cheek was hot and mint-scented. The glint of passion in his eyes sent her pulse skyrocketing. She tried to avoid that penetrating look, but no matter how she averted her gaze she seemed to lock in on hard, lean muscle. Temptation stole her breath.

  She saw the precise instant when Cody’s expression registered smug satisfaction, and it infuriated her. It galled her that she responded to him, annoyed her even more that he clearly knew it.

  She gathered every last ounce of hurt and resentment she’d ever felt toward him to slowly steady her pulse. With careful deliberation she lifted her glass of tea to her lips and took a long, deep swallow. She kept her gaze riveted to his as she drank, determined to show him that this latest tactic no longer had the power to rattle her. He would not win her over with his easy charm.

  Yet even as she did, even as uncertainty and then a flash of irritation darkened Cody’s eyes, she quaked inside and prayed he would back off before she lost the will for the battle. She was weakening already, her palms damp, her blood flowing like warm honey.