Cowboy Enchantment

chapter Four


“You look, well, different,” Justine marveled when Erica arrived at the Big House for dinner. “I like you with sassy hair.”

“Your Tico is a wonder,” Erica told her. “He has released my hair from its brown boringness, and I’m never going to change the color.” She all but pirouetted, basking in the attention.

Justine only smiled. “Not to diminish what Tico has done, but the low humidity here is great. You’ll need to use more moisturizer on your skin, though.”

Erica followed Justine into the kitchen, where a pot was bubbling on the stove. “What’s that?”

“The chef sent over chicken and tarragon dumplings, which should help us put on the pounds. Would you mind handing me that dish?”

Erica busied herself spooning fattening hollandaise sauce over asparagus spears and carrying it to the table, which was set with earthenware pottery and chunky candlesticks. Justine brought the main dish to the table and said with a slight laugh, “The table looks so lonely with only the two of us. Sometimes I ask Hank to join me, but these days he doesn’t like to take time away from Kaylie.”

“That’s his daughter?” Erica tried not to appear too curious, but her ears perked up at the mention of Hank’s name.

“Yes, and he’s new to the job of being a daddy. Poor Hank—he’s had a hard time of it.”

Erica spooned chicken and dumplings onto her plate, keeping her eyes lowered so that Justine wouldn’t suspect her interest. “A hard time—how do you mean?”

“Oh, I forgot. You wouldn’t know. Hank took over Kaylie’s care when his ex-wife died in an accident a few months ago. Anne-Marie was adamant about not letting him be part of their lives, so he’d only seen Kaylie a couple of times and didn’t have a clue about how to take care of her. Divorce is a sad business.”

“And so is losing your mother when you’re only a baby. Poor Kaylie. How is she doing?”

“Quite well. All of us at the ranch were upset by Anne-Marie’s death. She was a fitness instructor here and one of my dearest friends.” Justine looked pensive for a moment. “She was a fine person and a do-gooder to boot. Nothing I could say would stop her from riding over the state line to Nevada to that old ranch…but I’m running on, aren’t I? Please excuse me, Erica. Would you care for more beans?”

Erica accepted the plate of beans, but her interest had been piqued. “I’d like to hear what happened to Anne-Marie, Justine.”

Justine breathed a deep sigh. “Well, we had an elderly seamstress working here when Anne-Marie first arrived. Mattie was half Shoshone Indian, and she’d worked at one of the big hotels in Las Vegas before she came here. She was an excellent wardrobe person, but her arthritis finally made it necessary for her to retire to a ranch just over the Nevada state line. Anne-Marie took Mattie under her wing, was always running soup or cookies or something out to her at the ranch.”

“But Anne-Marie had a baby, right? Wasn’t it difficult for her to get away, even to do good works?”

“No. We have this wonderful baby-sitter, Paloma, who is happy to be here whenever she can, and I’ve been crazy about my niece since the day she was born. I was a willing sitter whenever I was available. I wish…but there’s no point in wishing. I could have kept Anne-Marie from going that night. If only I’d said I couldn’t baby-sit, she would have stayed home. I was taking care of Kaylie that night. A big storm came out of nowhere when Anne-Marie was on her way back to Rancho Encantado. She lost control of her car and hit a boulder. She died instantly.”

Erica’s heart went out to Justine, who, judging from her expression, still held herself responsible for her friend’s death. She reached across the table and touched Justine’s hand.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said.

Justine bit her lip. “I keep telling myself that. I don’t believe it, though.” She seemed to pull herself together with great effort. “Well, enough of that. I need to stop dwelling on it. Tell me about your day, Erica.”

Erica would rather have heard more about Hank, but she didn’t feel comfortable fishing for information. At least now she knew how he happened to be a single father. Knowing that his life had been touched by tragedy, she felt extremely sympathetic toward him. And not any less attracted.

However, her wish that he would drop by tonight while she was at the Big House for dinner was probably a futile one. Nevertheless, she found herself wishing, anyway.

Justine brought out huge slabs of chocolate cake topped with Rocky Road ice cream, and Erica thought she should wish for something she could actually have. Like a second scoop of ice cream, which Justine was happy to provide.

HANK, WORN-OUT from work, wanted nothing so much as a steaming hot shower and an ice-cold beer.

After feeding Kaylie and eating his own solitary dinner, neither option was in the offing. Instead, at the moment he was picking up after Kaylie as she tossed her toys around the small living room, her favorite after-dinner activity.

Both the beer and the shower would have to wait until Kaylie was in bed, and that could be a while, considering her present energy and insistence that he play with her. He tossed the blue plush duckie into the playpen and jotted himself a mental note to tell Paloma to cut out Kaylie’s morning nap.

“Babababa?” Kaylie said.

Hank snatched his daughter up from the blanket on the floor where she played, smooching her at the curve of her neck and making her laugh. “When are you going to learn to say ‘Dada,’ huh? Isn’t it about time you did something more than babble cute nothings?”

“Babababa!”

“Okay, so I’ll have to wait for you to talk. That’s fine, Kay-Kay. I’m a patient man.”

He sat down on the couch with his daughter in his lap, thinking how great it was going to be when he got that beer. Beer and then bed, and the next day he would start the whole routine over again. This was not the life he had lived until three months ago, that was for sure. Before Anne-Marie’s death he had been footloose and fancy-free in New York.

He saw Mrs. Gray standing on her hind legs and peering in through the screen door leading into the stable. Kaylie noticed her, too.

“Babababa?”

“No, Kaylie, that’s a cat. Kitty cat.” His words were punctuated by a meow from the cat.

“All right, all right. I know better than to deny two females what they want.” Carrying Kaylie, he got up and went to the kitchen door. Mrs. Gray zoomed inside when he opened the door a crack. There was no sign of her kittens, who, he supposed, were old enough to get around on their own these days.

Using the one hand that was free, he dumped a sizable portion of dry cat food into the dish beside the stove. Mrs. Gray didn’t even twitch her whiskers in that direction. Instead, she sat down and stared at him.

“Come on, Kaylie, let’s get those toys put back in the playpen,” he said just as the phone rang.

When he answered it, Lizette said brightly, “Hi, Henry. How’s my lovey bunny?”

Hank didn’t consider himself anyone’s lovey bunny, much less hers, but he managed to suppress his annoyance. “I’m fine, Lizette. I’m really busy right now. May I call you back?”

He crunched the phone between his shoulder and his neck and went into the living room, where he deposited Kaylie in the playpen.

“Why don’t you ever answer your e-mails?” Lizette wanted to know. “I’ve sent you a whole bunch.”

“Like I said, I’ve been busy.”

“I miss my lovey bunny. E-mail could make me feel so much more connected to you. When will you be back?”

“Not for a while.”

“You could bring the baby back to New York. Don’t you think it’s time?”

“Not yet,” he said. “She’s crazy about her baby-sitter. I can’t take her away from Paloma.”

“I know of a good day-care center right around the corner from my place.”

“Day care? Not yet. The situation here is ideal. Paloma is wonderful, and Justine likes to fill in when she can. Kaylie’s doing fine with the present circumstances, Lizette.”

“The trouble is, Henry, I’m not. I miss you. I want us to be together.”

He thought that he would like to know what color her eyes were, but this didn’t seem like the right time to inquire. He did remember her nose, for whatever it was worth. Or at least he remembered the nose she’d had when he’d left. Lizette was on her fourth nose and, in the spirit of treating others with total honesty, delighted in proclaiming this fact to everyone. She’d had her first nose job at age fourteen and two more since then.

Kaylie was trying to push a star through the round opening in her plastic ball, and distractedly he reached down and turned the ball so that the star-shaped opening was on top. She poked the star through it and gurgled with delight.

“Henry? Henry! Did you hear what I said?” Lizette was beginning to sound shrill.

“I heard.” He made himself consider ever so momentarily day care for Kaylie. He imagined rushing her there in the morning, rushing back to pick her up on the way home to his apartment. Or maybe to Lizette’s apartment. She was sounding perilously close to making the “Let’s live together” suggestion, and he couldn’t imagine living with Lizette while at the same time trying to be a father to Kaylie.

“I have a good mind to come down there and drag you back to New York,” Lizette said playfully.

He’d better do what he could to salvage this conversation, which had now gone from bad to worse. It occurred to him that there was probably no salvaging the relationship itself, and the thought didn’t make him unhappy.

“Well, Lizette, I know how you must feel, but I don’t think that your coming to Rancho Encantado is such a good idea, and I can’t leave now. I’ve got my work cut out for me here.”

“How can you say you know how I feel? You aren’t the one who was left behind.” Lizette sounded perilously near tears.

He raked a hand through his hair. For some reason Erica Strong’s face popped into his mind, looking the way it had this afternoon when he’d held her in his arms—flushed, eyes wide, lower lip tremulous. He swallowed and pushed the image to the far reaches of his consciousness.

“I suppose I can’t know exactly how you felt when I came to Rancho Encantado to look after Kaylie,” he allowed. “I know you must have been disappointed. You’ve been understanding, Lizette, but I’m not ready to take our relationship to a new level right now.”

Silence on the other end of the phone and what might have been a sniff.

“You’re a wonderful woman,” he added hastily. “We’ve had a great time. I hope that when I’m ready for something serious, you’ll still be available.” But did he? He’d met Lizette right after moving from Chicago to New York and was in the throes of his divorce. She’d been kind and understanding. But that was then. This was now.

An audible sniff this time. “I see,” she said.

“I’d better go now, Lizette. It’s almost time to put Kaylie to bed.”

“Kaylie, Kaylie, everything is Kaylie. You act like you’re married to that child.”

This angered him, but it would serve no purpose to show it. “I’m sorry, Lizette” was all he said, and he clicked off the phone.

“Babababa?”

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah.” He heaved a giant sigh and began to scoop toys up off the floor.

“Here’s your dolly and here’s your jingle ball and here’s…” He stopped talking in midsentence. Mrs. Gray was sitting beside the playpen, staring at him again in that uncanny—uncatty—way of hers.

“What do you want?” he said not unkindly. The cat only stared with eyes both knowing and luminous.

While he was paying attention to the cat, Kaylie started lobbing the toys out of the playpen again, one by one. Which made him impatient. He couldn’t be angry with her, though, because she did it so winsomely.

I don’t know why you don’t pop over to the Big House for a while and let Kaylie burn off some of her energy playing with Justine.

He whirled around, thinking that someone must be standing at the screen door and speaking to him, but there was no one. He could have sworn…

Cats did not talk. He knew this for a fact. People who thought that cats could talk were not right in the head.

Still, it wasn’t a bad idea to pay a visit to the Big House. Justine would play with Kaylie while he sat and drank his beer. Then he would bring Kaylie back here and they could both go to bed.

He swung Kaylie up out of the playpen and was rewarded by her happy chortle.

“What do you say we go over and see your aunt Justine for a while?” A visit might get the bad taste of the conversation with Lizette out of his mouth, too.

“Babababa!”

The cat did not say anything, Hank was relieved to note.

ERICA AND JUSTINE finished clearing the table, and while Justine was finishing up in the kitchen, Erica wandered into the living room and ran her fingers across the keys of the piano there.

“I didn’t know you played,” Justine called from the kitchen.

“I haven’t for a long time.” She sat down and experimented with a few chords.

A sheet of music was propped on the music stand, and after pushing her glasses higher on her nose, Erica played the first bar. She had taken lessons when she was a child and had actually enjoyed them, but she didn’t own a piano now and thought she’d forgotten almost everything she’d learned about playing. She hummed along with the music; she used to sing, too, in her high-school choir and in a college glee club.

The thud of boots on the porch interrupted her reverie, and the front door opened suddenly. She stopped humming abruptly and whirled around.

“Keep playing,” said Hank. “It sounded great.” He stood there in the same T-shirt and jeans he’d worn earlier, and he was carrying a baby that must be Kaylie.

Wishing she’d changed clothes after her riding lesson, she stood and clasped her hands behind her back in embarrassment. “I’m out of practice.”

“Hank?” Justine called from the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute. Right now I’m up to my elbows in dishwater.”

Erica’s mouth went dry at seeing Hank again after this afternoon when they’d almost…But maybe it had been her imagination that they’d almost kissed. Right now it seemed as if she’d never seen him before, and how could that be when she’d held an image of her ideal cowboy in her heart for as long as she could remember?

Aware of her pounding heart, she wiped damp palms on her thighs. “Um, won’t you sit down?” The baby was staring at her with frank interest, breaking into a drooly grin when Erica smiled at her. Kaylie had Hank’s blue eyes, deep-fringed and round, pale blond curls and soft pink skin.

“Babababa?”

Hank smiled. “No, Kaylie. That’s Erica.” And to Erica, “I used to think that ‘babababa’ was her name for me. I know better now, though. Everything is ‘babababa.”’

It was all Erica could do not to extend her hand for a handshake, the way she was accustomed to doing in business situations. What did you do when you met a baby? Erica had no idea, so she stood mutely, feeling awkward.

“Would you like to hold her?” Hank said. He couldn’t imagine why he offered this, other than knowing that most women seemed to enjoy holding babies.

Erica eyed the baby askance. Kaylie was a beautiful child, but everyone knew she didn’t do babies. Anyway, when had she last held a baby? At the moment she couldn’t recall, but she had an idea that it would be bad form to refuse, and how could she with this baby looking so cute?

“I’d love to,” she said, hoping that she didn’t sound as uncertain as she felt, and when she held her arms out, Kaylie went right to her, perching on her hip as though accustomed to being there.

Justine came bustling out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. “Hi, Hank. You should have come over earlier and eaten chicken and dumplings with us. Are you hungry? I could throw a plate together.”

“Kaylie and I have both eaten. I could use a beer if you’ve got one.”

“Top shelf of the fridge. Help yourself while we girls visit.”

“Can I get anyone else something to drink?”

Both Erica and Justine shook their heads, and Hank started for the kitchen. He found a beer, popped the top and rejoined them in the living room. Erica was sitting on the couch, still holding Kaylie and looking uncertain as to what she was about. He almost laughed at the way she was holding the baby—gingerly, as if she’d break. Well, he himself hadn’t known what to do when he first held his daughter, but he’d learned fast.

Justine was sitting on the couch, too, dangling her charm bracelet in front of a fascinated Kaylie. Hank flung himself into the big leather armchair he favored when visiting and took a long pull on the beer. It slid down easily, cool and refreshing. It had been a long day, and it suddenly occurred to him that the best part of it had been the hour he’d given Erica a riding lesson.

He didn’t know what made him say it, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I was thinking,” he said to Erica. “Tomorrow I don’t have any lessons in the afternoon besides yours. If you’re available earlier, we could take an easy trail ride, instead of your regular lesson.”

Erica shot him a startled look over Kaylie’s head. “I’d like that,” she said.

Justine, though she appeared surprised at the offer, spoke up quickly. “If Paloma could drop Kaylie off with me before she goes home tomorrow, you and Erica could take your time while you’re out on the trail.”

“Well, sure,” Hank said. Kaylie hadn’t spent much time here lately, mostly because Justine was busy with ranch matters twenty-four hours a day.

Justine looked pleased. “I’ll have Pavel prepare a trail meal for you so you won’t miss supper.”

Kaylie erupted in a stream of syllables and held her arms out toward Justine. Erica, looking relieved, let Justine take her. Justine began bouncing Kaylie on her knee.

Hank felt a stab of annoyance seeing Erica’s relief at relinquishing Kaylie, though he couldn’t have said why. He’d let the woman hold his precious baby, and much to his surprise she hadn’t seemed at all grateful or captivated as most women were. He had no idea why he cared about this, but he did. As silly as it sounded even in his own mind, everyone should be grateful for the opportunity to be part of Kaylie’s life. He didn’t like even a hint that she might be a nuisance to anyone.

He wished now that he hadn’t asked Erica to go on the trail ride tomorrow. “Of course, if you’d rather have a regular lesson, that would be fine,” he said, despite the fact that they’d already left the subject. Justine shot him a narrow-eyed glance, but Erica furrowed her forehead in distress. “Well—”

Justine wasted no time in expressing her opinion. “Nonsense, you’ve already decided on the trail ride, and I’m looking forward to a long visit with my niece,” she said, driving home the point that he’d better live up to his promise.

Erica, sensing the tension between brother and sister, stood up. “I think I’ll have a beer myself,” she said. She started toward the kitchen.

“Good idea,” Justine said. “Drink a couple of those a day and you’ll gain weight.”

As Erica disappeared down the hall, Justine shot daggers at Hank, the look in her eyes warning him not to make problems. Inwardly he cursed himself for his own stupidity. If he hadn’t brought up the idea of the trail ride, it would never have been mentioned and Erica’s riding lesson would have gone on as planned. He should have had more sense.

Suddenly he couldn’t sit still, mostly because he hated the way Justine was always trying to impose her will on him. He got up and, not knowing what he was going to do when he got there, followed Erica into the kitchen.

He surprised Erica in the process of pulling a beer out of the far reaches of the refrigerator.

“I could use another,” he said, holding up his empty bottle though he’d previously had no intention of drinking a second.

Erica moved out of the way so he could reach into the refrigerator.

“Your Kaylie is darling,” she said, surprising him. She sounded as though she meant it.

“Thanks.” Instead of going back to the living room, Erica leaned back against the kitchen counter and twisted the top off her beer bottle. “I…well, babies are so little,” she said. “I wasn’t sure I was holding her right.”

“Neither was I when I first held her. She was a lot smaller then, too.”

Erica brought the bottle up to her mouth and drank, and he couldn’t help noticing her long neck and how it swept up into her jawline, which ended at her ear, barely visible under the curtain of hair falling back from her face. He looked away, wondering how it was that he could come undone by merely looking at a portion of her anatomy, and not a portion that usually had sexual connotations, either.

“At first I thought you didn’t like Kaylie,” he blurted, thinking how stupid he was to set himself up for her denial.

She surprised him. She regarded him levelly, not denying anything. “Actually, when I started to hold her, I didn’t know if I did or not, although I thought she was beautiful. She has her own little personality, doesn’t she?”

Erica couldn’t have replied in a way that would have satisfied him more. Before he knew it, he was replying with enthusiasm. “Kaylie is unique, and it seems like they all start out that way. Before I had a baby of my own, I thought, ‘Oh, a baby,’ when I saw one and left it at that. I figured they all behaved pretty much the same.”

“Don’t they?”

“Hardly. For instance, the ranch foreman’s baby is as different from Kaylie as night is from day.”

“How so?”

He shrugged and relaxed. “The foreman and his wife invited Kaylie and me to their house for dinner, and their baby is exactly the same age. Kaylie has never met a stranger, and she flirted with Dusty, the foreman, and cooed to his wife, Tanya, and smiled at their baby, Emma. By contrast, Emma didn’t seem to enjoy having strangers around. She cried when I tried to pick her up, and they told me that she rarely sleeps through the night. Kaylie was sleeping through the night by the time she was a couple of months old.”

Justine called from the living room, sounding every bit the solicitous aunt. “Erica, Hank, bring a towel when you come back, will you? Kaylie’s drooling a lot.”

“She’s starting to cut her first tooth, I think,” Hank called back. He strode across the kitchen and rummaged in a drawer. “It’s amazing,” he said over his shoulder to Erica. “When a baby enters your life, everything starts to revolve around it. Around her.”

“So it seems,” Erica murmured.

“I’d better deliver this wiper to Justine.” He walked past her, the towel in one hand, a beer in the other.

Erica followed him, and this time, instead of sitting beside Justine and Kaylie, who had taken over most of the couch, she sat down on the piano bench. From this position she could admire the chestnut highlights in Hank’s wavy hair, the rippling abs under his tight-fitting T-shirt. He caught her looking at him, and she quickly cut her eyes to the music. To her embarrassment, a flush began to creep upward from her neck, and she chastised herself for acting like a teenager with a crush.

“Go ahead, play something,” urged Justine.

“I’ll try,” she murmured. “Let me look the music over for a moment.”

Hank and Justine went on talking about buying shoes for Kaylie while she studied the piece of music, and when she attempted to play a few notes, they didn’t comment.

She began to move haltingly through the music, a light waltz. By the time she reached the end, the others had stopped talking and Justine was tentatively humming along.

Erica paused for a sip of beer.

“Please play something else,” Hank said.

“There’s more music in the piano bench,” Justine added.

Erica rummaged in the bench until she found a book of old standards, and she treated them to a rousing rendition of “Turkey in the Straw.”

“This house could use some livening up,” Justine said. “I hope you’ll play again sometime.”

“Perhaps,” Erica said.

“If you like, you can take the sheet music back to your room and study it before you tackle it.”

“I’d like that.”

Hank spoke up. “Kaylie’s yawning. I’d better get her home and to bed.”

“You can walk Erica back,” Justine said.

This surprised Hank. He hadn’t expected such an assignment. Erica, to give her credit, had the good grace to appear startled. Without being a total dork, he could hardly refuse, so he made himself smile and say, “Sure.”

A flurry of goodbyes followed, and then they were outside in the cool, sweet-scented desert air, Kaylie pressed against his shoulder and Erica walking alongside him, a folder of sheet music tucked under her arm.

Across the way, a group of guests hurried across the open space toward their quarters. As they dispersed to their rooms, they called out cheerful good-nights to one another.

“I hope you don’t mind about the longer trail ride tomorrow,” he said.

Erica concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Mind? Why would she mind? It was like the answer to a prayer—more time with her cowboy, more time to make an impression on him. Although if the way he was looking at her now was any indication, she was impressing him right this minute.

Erica wondered how much longer she’d be able to act as if she had little riding experience. In fact, she’d learned to ride at age ten, competed in regional gymkhanas throughout her high-school years and still rode whenever she could.

“Whatever you think,” she murmured, aghast at herself for sounding so wimpy. Erica Strong never let someone else make her decisions for her; Erica Strong always had opinions; Erica Strong was a leader, not a follower.

Of course, Erica Strong had never met a handsome, virile cowboy in the flesh, the kind of guy who’d been the stuff of dreams since she was a little girl.

And now that she had, she looked at things a lot differently. She smiled to herself, thinking that Charmaine wouldn’t believe her sister’s good fortune. After all, Erica didn’t quite believe it herself.