Baby Be Mine Page 3

  Marissa smiled at her sister. Michelle had grown strong and confident over the past few years, and no matter how much she wanted to give the credit to Kade and his love for her sister, Marissa knew that there was something else that had let Michelle find her center.

  “I’ll help you put him to bed,” she said still snuggling the little boy who gazed at his mother with sleepy blue eyes.

  “I’d like that,” Michelle said walking toward the bedroom down the hall.

  “He’s such a good baby,” Michelle offered, handing Kadence to his mother while she grabbed his fuzzy pajamas from a drawer. “I don’t I remember him being fussy like Phil and Chase’s Megan,”

  Michelle, snorted making Marissa turn back to her with surprise. “Sweet little Megan is a tyrant,” she said. “She doesn’t seem to know night from day yet, but Phil’s happy.”

  “Are you sure?” Marissa asked, surprised at her sister’s reaction. “She looked exhausted.”

  “Phil’s made of stout stuff,” Michelle said. “She’ll survive.”

  “I can’t believe you said that,” Marissa said. “She’s your best friend and you think it’s funny.”

  “Marissa,” Michelle said zipping her son into his PJs, “Women have been doing this for a very long time, and Phil has Chase or pretty much anyone of us around the Broken J if she needs help. She’ll call when the time comes.”

  Marissa smiled and nodded. Yes, the people of the Broken J were like family even if they came from a dozen different situations. When someone needed something, they would all be there to help.

  Chapter 5

  Marissa walked the fence line behind Michelle’s house the next morning, following the wooden rails toward the big barn further down the ranch compound. Young horses frolicked in the fields while their dams cropped the summer green grass, and she smiled at their awkward movement.

  The Broken J was peaceful as most guests were either off on an excursion or in the dining area sampling some wonderful concoction the ranch cook, Mrs. Wade, was serving. For a moment, Marissa considered heading over to the ranch house and grabbing a couple of cowboy cookies, but she didn’t feel like fighting through a loud crowd of holidaymakers.

  Resting her hand on the top fence rail she dropped her chin on her hands and gazed out across the field smiling at the antics of the young horses, many of whom still didn’t seem to know how their legs worked.

  “Cute, aren’t they?” a deep voice said, and Marissa turned to look at the cowboy she had met the day before.

  “Yes, they are,” she agreed, offering a smile.

  “Are you having a good stay with your sister? Trace asked grinning when she started and turned back to him. “I asked Chase who you were,” the tall man said with a hint of color tingeing his cheeks.

  Marissa rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m Michelle’s bratty little sister,” she admitted. “I’m sure he told you that I used to drive Phil crazy as a kid.”

  “You did?” Trace asked. “Chase didn’t say, but I’m sure Philomena Haven could hold her own against a bratty little sister, a corporate mogul, or a herd of stampeding buffalo for that matter.”

  Marissa laughed and the feeling seemed to shake away a layer of the stress she had been feeling recently. “Phil is one tough cookie,” she agreed, “but that tiny bundle she was carrying to the house yesterday seems to be giving her a run for her money.”

  Trace chuckled, a warm, happy sound that trickled over Marissa like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day.

  “She’ll make do,” Trace said turning and studying the soft line of the dark-haired girl’s face. She was mighty pretty to his thinking. “I told Chase he should get someone to watch Meg for him if he decided to take Phil out for a night on the town. I didn’t volunteer, but he knows I’d do it if he asked.”

  “Really?” Marissa asked surprised by the cowboy’s offer. “I didn’t know people who worked on the ranch were expected to wrangle babies as well as cows, horses, and giggling guests.”

  Trace pushed his hat back on his head of short-cropped strawberry blonde hair. “We wrangle whatever comes our way,” he said with a grin. “I’m used to babies,” he continued. “My sister was a premature baby, and now she helps others that need a good start in life.”

  Marissa turned away thinking of the card the cowboy had given her the day before. Even if the place was his sisters business, her life wasn’t any of his business.

  “When I was a kid, my mom left right after Daisy was born so I helped dad as much as possible. We didn’t know if she was going to make it in the beginning, so it was a lot of work. Little Megan is opinionated about the world, but she’ll adjust,” the cowboy continued with his explanation.

  Marissa couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s words. Opinionated is not the word she would have used to describe the precious if loud little girl.

  “That sounds nice,” Trace said smiling in her direction.

  “What?” Marissa asked, looking around as if for a bird or other animal.

  “You laughing,” Trace said. “You were looking mighty serious a minute ago.

  Marissa shrugged but didn’t respond. It was nice standing here with this handsome stranger. He didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him, so what she said or how she behaved didn’t seem to matter.

  “You like horses,” Trace asked catching her by surprise with his change of subject as he leaned against the fence.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Michelle and I never had much to do with livestock of any kind growing up in the city, but now that I’ve been around them more, I love the horses.”

  “How about a ride?” Trace asked peeking out from under the brim of his hat.

  Marissa turned away from the fence looking up at the man. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “I’m working a split shift,” Trace said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I’m off until five when we do the mock cattle drive and campfire meal.”

  “You don’t want to take me riding when you spend your whole day escorting guests and working horses.”

  “That’s exactly why I do want to take you,” Trace said his dark eyes soft as he studied her face. “I don’t get to take a nice slow ride on my own much anymore, and besides, Phil’s horse could use the exercise.”

  Marissa looked toward the barn, remembering the pretty mahogany bay mare that Phil often road. Amethyst Rose was a real beauty.

  “Come on,” Trace urged touching her elbow, “You’ll be doing me a favor.”

  “Alright,” she finally said pushing off the fence, “but I’m not a very good rider.”

  Trace chuckled falling in behind the slim form of the young woman who was walking toward the barn. Maybe a ride along the creek trail would put her mind at ease and let her work out what her next move would be. Either way, he would be praying for her as they rode.

  ***

  “I’ve never been down this way,” Marissa said as she ducked under a low-hanging limb. The trail was long and winding as it followed the stream from the other side of Kade and Michelle’s place.

  “Really, I figured you would have been down to your sisters print-shop,” Trace said.

  “Yes, but she takes that little dirt road and either drives the truck or the pony cart. She doesn’t follow the stream.”

  “It’s been one of my favorite trails since coming here to work,” Trace said. “It’s cool and shady in most places because of the trees, and you get some nice views from the higher places.”

  Marissa breathed in the smell of green trees, and summer grass, listening to the trickling stream as it grew louder where it approached the old sawmill that had been converted into Michelle’s workshop.

  “We’re getting close to Michelle’s shop aren’t we?” she asked letting Amethyst or Amy as everyone called the horse, pick her way along the dark trail.

  “Yes, the stream turns here then plunges down to the waterwheel there. It’s a nice setup. The old sawmill was efficient back then, and it is now as well. Kade
even set it up so the old mill generates the power for the print-shop,” Trace said then chuckled. “I guess you’d know that better than me since she’s your sister.”

  “There seems to be a load of history wrapped up in this place,” Marissa agreed. “It must have been pretty amazing when this ranch was expanding as the original daughters married.”

  “You like the history of things,” Trace asked looking back over his shoulder as they made the turn of the trail and stepped out onto a small raised plain that looked out over the narrow waterfall pouring onto the slowly turning waterwheel.

  “I’m always interested,” Marissa said. “I teach fifth grade, and one of my favorite subjects is history.”

  Trace smiled pulling his horse to a stop and letting her mount step up beside him, so they could look across the prairie. “My dad has history right here in Wyoming,” Trace said. “He comes from a long line of ranchers, and sheepherders a little further west of here. I always enjoyed the stories his father told about the family.”

  Marissa turned, studying the face of the man beside her. He looked so comfortable, so at ease sitting on his big gray horse. It was as if he knew exactly who he was and what his place on this earth was. Trace was a handsome man, and his ability to sit so still as he gazed across the prairie was enviable.

  “So your family is from Wyoming?” Marissa asked wanting to know something more about the cowboy.

  “Yes, generations of Sparaks have been living and working in Wyoming. My dad moved here to Tipton when my mom left. My sister needed a lot of medical care and there were more doctors and specialists here than back in the tiny town of Biders Clump.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking what’s wrong with your sister?”

  Trace leaned on his saddle horn feeling his horse shift under him as he turned his head, his blue eyes full of emotion. “Basically, my mom didn’t want her,” he stated flatly. “When that didn’t work, she left as soon as Daisy was born.”

  Marissa felt an icy fire plunge into her middle at the cowboy’s words. “Is that why you gave me that card?” she asked quietly ducking her head to hide from the pain in his eyes.

  “That, and the fact that God has a purpose for everyone on this earth even if we can’t always see it. Every day we’re faced with choices, but they don’t only affect us, they affect everyone around us.”

  Marissa stiffened as his words shot toward her heart. He was so sure of himself, so positive he knew what was right, but he wasn’t the one stuck with the possibility of having to raise a child alone. “I suppose you’d be willing to raise someone else’s child then,” she spat, pulling Amy’s reins snug. “It’s just that easy, no worries just do it because you should?”

  “Yes,” Trace said sitting up tall in the saddle and meeting her flashing dark eyes. “I would.”

  “Right,” Marissa spat, “Mr. High and Mighty. You men just get to walk away and leave us, women, holding the bag. I don’t believe you would actually take on a child that isn’t yours.”

  Trace looked into Marissa’s angry face his eyes sad. “You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “You don’t even have to like me, but I do care, and no matter what you’re going through, I know you don’t have to do it alone. All I can do is ask that you meet my sister before you make any decisions about your future.”

  Marissa glared at the man, her temper raging as she yanked Amy’s head around and headed down the trail toward the lower stream crossing, spurring the horse toward the print-shop as hot tears stung her eyes.

  Trace dropped his head, but kicked his horse into a gallop. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. He truly wanted to help the young woman with the sad eyes. He knew firsthand how much damage one rash decision could do to a family. His whole world had been shattered after his mother’s breakdown and ultimate abandonment.

  “Marissa,” he called catching up to her on the other side of the stream and pulling Amy to a stop. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said his rich voice full of compassion. “I just wanted you to know that you have a real opportunity here, and that I’d be willing to help you if you asked.”

  Marissa turned to the cowboy, tears filling her eyes. “You’re serious aren’t you?” she said studying his face and wanting to believe him.

  “I am,” he said. “It’s a long story, but I meant what I said. I’ll let you go if you want me to,” he continued. “I’m sure you can make your way home with Michelle.”

  Marissa wiped the tears from her eyes with an angry swipe. “I’ll figure this out,” she said. “I don’t need your help.”

  Trace reached out across the short space between the two horses. “I know you don’t need my help, that doesn’t mean you can’t use it.”

  Something in Marissa’s heart turned over. The man she had thought she was going to spend her life with had walked away, but this stranger was willing to offer help. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was only trying to be nice.

  “I’ll let you know if I do,” she finally said pulling the reins toward the large old building and heading for her sister.

  Trace watched the young woman kick the dark horse up the rise and swing down by the old mill. He hoped that somehow she could find her way at this difficult time and prayed that somehow Kade’s wife might be able to get through to her. Life came with many decisions but some of those decisions brought regret too deep to believe.

  Turning he let his horse make its way back toward the barn as his heart lifted a prayer to heaven on behalf of Marissa.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m home,” Kade called walking into the house that evening. “Where’s Mini-mar?” he added stepping into the kitchen and kissing Michelle on the cheek.

  “She’s upstairs,” Michelle said. “She came to the mill today after a ride with Trace and was very upset.”

  “Oh,” Kade sounded surprised, “Trace is one of the easiest guys to be around on the ranch.”

  Michelle looked up at her oversized husband and raised a brow. “Well, whatever he said hit her hard.”

  Kade wrapped an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “Has she talked to you anymore?” he asked pulling his wife into his warm bulk. “You know arguing with her isn’t going to work honey, the best we can do is pray.”

  Michelle nestled into Kade breathing in the smell of wide-open fields, horse, and something that was all Kade. “I know,” she said, “but that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

  Kade squeezed Michelle tighter, still not sure how God had managed to bring the perfect mate to him. She was smart, funny, and full of spunk now that she had found her own peace. “Chase wanted me to see if Marissa would babysit tonight,” he finally said dropping a kiss to his wife’s dark locks. “You think she’ll be game?”

  “We can ask,” Michelle replied laughing as Kadence trundled into the kitchen pushing a yellow dump truck, and revving an imaginary engine. “She played with this little guy a while today, what’s one more baby?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kade chuckled, “just a load of diapers and a sour disposition if I gauge the situation properly.”

  “I’ll go call her,” Michelle said lifting Kadence and handing him to his father with a grin as she headed for the stairs.

  “Come in,” Marissa called when Michelle knocked on the door. “Oh, is supper ready?” she asked rolling off the bed and rubbing her eyes.

  “Almost,” Michelle said standing in the doorway and studying her younger sister. She wanted to wrap her arms around her and pull her tight and tell her that she would make everything better, but she hadn’t been able to do that for years. “Kade’s home,” Michelle said. “He told me that Chase was wondering if you’d be up to babysitting tonight. I guess you told Phil you’d pitch in if she ever needed a break.”

  Marissa stood stretching her slim body and pushing her rumpled hair over a shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I can do that. It’s been a few years, but babysitting paid for a lot of new shoes at one time.”

  Michelle smiled remembering how bus
y Marissa had been in their old neighborhood. She was well known for her common sense, and her taste for fun when babysitting as a teen. It was one of the reasons she had decided to be a teacher. She had such a quick connection with children of almost any age.

  “Come downstairs when you’re ready and we’ll eat. I’ll have Kade call Chase and let them know you can watch Megan for them.”

  Marissa nodded. “Be there in a minute,” she offered, watching her petite sister turn and walk back down the hall.

  Hurrying to the bathroom, Marissa washed her face, brushed out her hair and pulled it up into a hair clip before looking in the mirror, and checking that no trace of her earlier tears remained. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise she couldn’t quite relegate Trace and his kindness to interference or nosiness. No, the cowboy with the light red gold hair and kind eyes seemed to truly care.