His Heart for the Trusting (2 page)

Mitch drew in a
pensive breath before he reached the screen door.  Pausing, he scraped his
boots extra hard on the doormat with a little more care than usual before
walking into the house. 

“Would it help
if I said sorry for whatever I did, Corrine?”

He heard her
lighthearted chuckle and let out a breath of relief.  How much trouble could he
really be in if she still held her humor?

“Do what you
like,” Corrine called back to him from inside. “But I'm afraid it'll do no
good.”

He made a face
and groaned audibly.  What on earth had he done this time? 

* * *

“You've got to
be kidding,” Mitch said just moments later, still not believing the bombshell
that had just exploded in his face.  He swayed for a second, and then slumped
against the wall.  It was a joke.  It had to be!

Corrine held
the tiny infant in her arms and eyed him.  Not a trace of humor on her face. 
“Do I look like I'm kidding?”

“You've got to
be--”

“Hard to
believe, isn't it?  Mitch is a daddy. Hearts will be breaking wide open now
that Mitchell Broader is no longer footloose and fancy free,” Mandy chimed in. 
“You're gonna be changing diapers instead of picking up women after bringing
the cows home.”

“This is a sick
joke, right?”

Corrine
shrugged as she blew a fallen tendril of hair from her forehead.  “Maybe, but
we're not the one playing it on you.”

“We're not into
cruel and unusual punishment.  Even for you.”

“Thanks a lot,
Mandy,” he said, his mouth skewing into a wry grin. 

She chuckled
softly as she peered over the baby Corrine held in her arms and crooned
softly.  “No problem.”

“She actually
said...Lillian said that I'm this kid's daddy?  I mean...and then she
just...left?  She left the kid here for me to raise?”  His throat constricted
and he was finding it hard to draw breath.  Right now, the only thing keeping
him upright was the solid wall behind him and that was only as long as his
knees didn’t give way.

Corrine
motioned to the window.  “Didn’t you see the dust cloud running down the
driveway?  The woman was in quite a hurry to escape.”

“I'll just
bet.”    

That would be
typical Lillian.  If it involved money, Lillian was in a hurry. 

“Did anyone
else talk with her?  Did she say when she was coming back?”

“Nope, and with
all the commotion today, no one would have noticed her, anyway.  I came into
the house to check on the lemon pies and she was just there sitting at the
kitchen table like the rest of the chairs.  I have no idea how long she'd been
sitting there.  All she said was this was your baby and your responsibility
now.  She didn't say anything about coming back for him.”

Corrine stood
up from the worn couch she'd been sitting on, rocking the sleeping baby in her
arms.  She padded softly over to Mitch and held the child out to him.  Her arms
hung in the air.  What did she expect him to do?

“He's truly an
adorable child.  Don't you want to hold your son?” she asked with the kind of
warmth and compassion he'd come to love about her.  Except this time, he didn't
want to see it. 

His son?  Had
she really called this warm little bundle his son?  He looked at the baby boy
dressed in a Baltimore Orioles baseball outfit and little sock booties, back at
Corrine , and then at the baby again.

Corrine
chuckled softly so as not to rouse the baby.  “He's not going to do anything. 
I promise you that.  It's a lot easier to hold him for the first time while
he's asleep.  Pretty soon he'll probably be crying for something.”

“I don't know
anything about holding a baby.”

He was vaguely
aware of Mandy coming into the living room, holding a freshly laundered white
tee shirt.  He'd somehow missed the fact that she'd left the room for a moment.

“You are not
touching this precious baby wearing that sweaty shirt,” Mandy insisted.  “Put
this one on.”

He did as he
was told, handing the shirt he'd been wearing to Mandy, who took it between her
fingertips and walked back to the laundry room.

He shook his
head.  “I can't do this.  There's got to be a mistake.”

“He's a baby,
Mitch, not a bomb.  Although he'll probably deposit something explosive in his
diaper real soon,” Mandy said. 

Corrine placed
the baby in the crook of Mitch’s arm and closed his hand around the baby to
keep him snug.  “Don't worry.  You've encountered worse messes in the barn. 
You can handle a little diaper.”

“Now this I've
got to see,” Mandy said, crossing her arms across her chest and resting them on
her ample belly.

He didn't know
what irked him more.  The fact that Lillian had pulled another fast one on him
by dropping off some kid at the ranch, and claiming it to be his son, or the
fact that Mandy and Corrine seemed to be taking such pleasure in something that
was obviously meant to make him squirm.

“I know it's a
shock,” Mandy started to say, but Mitch cut her off.

“That's quite
the understatement.”

“But you do
know who this Lillian person is, right?” Mandy asked.  “I mean, she's not some
stranger who happened to drive on by?”

No, Lillian was
definitely not a stranger.  “I know her.”

“Then is it
possible she's telling the truth about this is your son?” Corrine asked.

He stared down
at the baby and mentally counted the months since he'd last been in Baltimore. 
The last time he'd seen Lillian.

“It's a
possibility.”

Corrine
shrugged and smiled.  “Well, then there you have it.  Looks like we have a baby
on the ranch sooner than we thought.”

Mitch stared
down at the baby.  No, it couldn't be.  A baby?  How was a baby going to fit
into things on the ranch?

Corrine's
sympathetic voice carved its way into his shock.  “I really hate to do this to
you, but I've got food in the oven that needs my attention.”  Corrine left the
room.

“I wish I could
help you right now, too,” Mandy said.  “But we're already stretched with all
this cooking, especially now that Alice has gone home with a migraine.”

Those few
little words sucked all the air out of the room for Mitch.  “Wait...wait...you
can't leave me alone with...with--”  

Corrine pointed
to the yard.  “Do you see that crowd out there?  They're here for us.  They
didn't have to leave their ranches to do this, but they did.  I've got a lot of
mouths to feed.  Come sundown, after all the work they've done, they are going
to be mighty hungry for some food.  I wish it were different, but we can't help
you baby-sit right now.”

Mandy moved
past him, eyeing the baby with dreamy eyes.  “A little later when things slow
down some, I can give you a break.”

Mitch started
gently bouncing the baby as he stirred.  The kid looked so tiny in his big
arms.  “What do I...what's his name?”

Corrine poked
her head in for just a second and said, “Jonathan.” 

Then they were
gone.  And he was alone.  With a baby.

* * *

Sara brought
her sedan to a full stop at the gate announcing The Double T Ranch.  It had
been a long time since she'd visited Hank and Corrine Promise.  Their spread
was bigger than she'd remembered.  But then a lot of changing happens in nine
years.  Mandy had mentioned hard times last year when she'd visited, something
to do with Hank's health.  But by the look of things, it seemed the hard times
had past.  She was glad for that.

She hit the gas
pedal and pushed past the gate.  A long string of cars and pickups trucks lined
the side of the drive.  As she approached, she saw a large green and white
striped tent set up in the back yard with tables and chairs arranged beneath
it.  It wasn't until she got closer that she saw a team of people engrossed in
erecting a post and beam barn.

  It was a real
honest to goodness old-fashioned barn raising.  Now that was something you
didn't see every day in Los Angeles.

There were
people crawling all over the yard like ants picking up crumbs at a picnic. 
Sara parked her rental at the end of the line and walked along the row of cars
leading to the festivities.  The smell of manure and freshly mown hay drying in
the sun filled her nose as she walk by grazing cows in the pasture.

A trickle of
sweat made its way down her chest as she felt the heat of the sun.  She should
have changed into a pair of shorts and her sneakers before she'd left the
airport, she thought.  Her coral silk sleeveless blouse and pants were clinging
to her skin after the long ride from the airport.

Clutched by
anxiety and the overwhelming desire to run, she made a beeline for the house
before anyone recognized her.  With any luck, she'd spot Mandy first and have a
private meeting before barging in on her parents.  Odds were her mother was
here already, having been the housekeeper at the Double T for more than fifteen
years.

The screen door
slammed, drawing her attention to the house.  There'd be less people inside on
such a hot day.  Maybe she'd be able to find Mandy there before anyone spotted
her.

Slipping past a
group of blue-haired women tearing at a pitcher of iced tea under a low hanging
cottonwood tree, Sara rushed up the brick path to the front door that faced the
driveway.  As she approached, she heard the plaintive sound of a baby crying,
and the deep, almost groan, of a male voice.  An extremely exasperated male
voice.

The urgency of
that voice had her bolting into the house without knocking.

The tall,
dark-haired man pacing the living room, bouncing the baby was much too
pre-occupied with trying to stop the baby from crying to notice her.  He had
his broad back to her, but it couldn't possibly be Beau, Sara quickly decided. 
She'd seen pictures of the wedding when Mandy had visited.  Even with his back
turned, she knew he looked different.  And Mandy's baby wasn't due for at least
another two or more months according to her last letter.

Dropping her
purse on the oak end table, Sara advanced across the carpeted floor, worrying
more about the poor infant than startling the man with her silent entry.

“Keep that up
and you'll be smelling baby vomit on your boots for the next month,” she said. 

The man swung
around with the sound of her voice.  It wasn't Beau, but she did know the
face.  She'd seen him before.  But she couldn't quite place where.

“Oh, thank God
someone is here,” he said, relief bursting to life in his sun-tanned face. 

His bright eyes
were a deep sapphire blue with flecks of gold and gray that reminded Sara of
sunset and sunrise all in one.  Although his skin was indeed a bronze color
from the long days he no doubt spent in the Texas sun, his nose was slightly
red and peeling.  A testament to his fair skin.  Sweat lined his dark brows as
they creased.

“They all left
me alone.  He's been crying, and I have no idea what to do.” 

“Poor baby,”
she said, standing near enough to now stroke her finger across the baby's
smooth cheek.

“Thanks.”

“No, I meant
the baby.  His mother should be brought up on charges for leaving this child
with the likes of you.”

The man heaved
a sigh.  “At the moment, I couldn't agree with you more.  Do you know anything
about babies?”

“I know it's
not good to bounce him around so much.  It'll give him an upset stomach.”

“He's been
crying forever.”

Sara rolled her
eyes and couldn't help but smile.  A cowboy had the stomach for castrating a
bull, but some were so helpless when it came to babies.  She actually felt
sorry for him.  “I'm sure it only seems that way.”

“No, I swear. 
And I don't know what he wants.”

“If he's been
crying a long time, he may have colic.”

“Colic?  You
mean like a horse?” he croaked.

Sara chuckled
quietly at the horrified look her gave her, thinking how good it felt to do
that after so long.  “Yeah, something like that.”

The man gulped. 
“Sometimes we have to put down horses with colic.”

“Trust me,
you're not going to have to do that for the baby.  When was the last time he
had a bottle?”

He looked at
her blankly.  “A bottle?” 

“Yeah, has he
been fed?  You know, formula you put in a bottle to feed the baby?  You're not
going to give him a slab of steak fresh off the grill at his age.  Or maybe his
mother is nursing?”

The man's broad
shoulders sagged.  “Look, I know how to raise cows and horses.  I'm an imbecile
when it comes to a baby.”

Sara quirked an
eyebrow.  “So it seems.” 

She reached
out, rescued the baby from the man’s arms, and stretched the baby belly-side
down over the length of her arm, cooing to help soothe the baby.  With a
practiced hand, she checked his diaper to find that it was still dry. 

“I take it this
is not your baby.”

His blue eyes
grazed the baby.  For a moment, he looked a little lost himself.  With a sigh,
he said, “Can you help me?”

Sara glanced
around the living room, on the sofa and the floor in search of a diaper bag. 
She found one snug between the sofa and end table. “See if there is a bottle in
that diaper bag.  If there is, bring it into the kitchen.”

She walked into
the kitchen, holding the baby with one arm, and searched the pan wrack above
the stove.  She took a stainless steel pan from the wrack and filled it with
hot tap water.  The kitchen was filled with delicious smells of food that
suddenly made her remember she hadn't eaten anything since that morning.

The man came
into the kitchen rifling through the diaper bag until he pulled out a bottle
filled with baby formula.  Taking it from his hands, she placed it in the pan
to warm, suddenly glad that her time volunteering at the daycare center back in
LA made her feel useful here.  At least it took her mind off her anxiety for a
moment.