The Baby Truth. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
the building, she found double doors swung wide and Jett inside, tossing hay bales into the back of a work truck. Bits of dried grass and dust flew all around him and floated through the shafts of morning sunlight.
Careful to stand out of the way, Sassy watched him finish with the hay, then add several sacks of cattle feed on top of the load. The effortless way he handled the heavy sacks told Sassy he was accustomed to doing much more than just sitting at a desk shuffling legal papers.
When she’d first met him in the airport yesterday, she’d taken note of his headgear. This morning he was wearing the same battered gray hat. Sweat stained the band and the repetitive pressure of his fingers against the crown had caused one of the creases to split and create a hole in the felt.
Sassy had learned to read a lot about a cowboy’s character in his hat. And Jett’s was definitely full of personality. The fact that he chose not to replace the worn piece of equipment with a new one said he was sentimental about his possessions. Plus, he didn’t need fancy to make him feel important. She liked that about him. But then, that was the problem. She liked far too many things about the man.
He motioned for the dogs to jump up onto the truck, and once they were settled on top of the feed sacks, he shut the tailgate and looked over to her. “I’m all set here,” he said. “Are you ready?”
She moved to where he stood. “Ready and bundled in my warmest clothing.”
“I promise you’re not going to be cold. This old truck looks a little rough, but the heater still works great.” He reached for her elbow. “Come along and I’ll help you climb up.”
Once they were settled in the cab, Jett backed the vehicle out of the barn, then steered it onto a dirt track packed hard from constant use. As they headed toward the open range, Sassy wondered if the space in the cab had suddenly shrunk. Jett felt so near she could practically feel the heat of his body and smell the masculine scent emanating from his clothing.
“The cattle are on the other side of this mesa. Not far from here,” he said, as he steered the truck in a northerly direction. “They’ve been getting fed every day so we won’t have to hunt them. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Trying to get her mind off him and onto their surroundings, she peered out the windshield at the rough terrain. “How long have you had this ranch?”
To their left, fir-covered mountains were less than a quarter mile off, while to the immediate right, the land swept away to scrubby desert terrain full of sagebrush and juniper. It was wild and beautiful land with more wide open space to it than the Chaparral, which was surrounded by steep mountains.
“My maternal grandparents, Adah and Melvin Whitfield, used to own this property,” he said. “Along with a nice herd of cattle. But age caught up with them, and they decided to scale down to a smaller ranch in southern California where the climate is much easier. Rather than sell this place they gave it to my mother, but she never was interested in country living. She sold the cattle, and I bought her out of the property with the assurance it would always remain in the family. That happened about six years ago, and since then I’ve been trying to build it back into the ranch it was when my grandparents lived here.”
“What about your dad? He’s not interested in ranching?”
Jett laughed, but the sound held little humor. “I learned all I know about cattle and ranching from my grandparents. Dad wouldn’t know one end of a cow from the other. And he wouldn’t want to learn. More than likely, he’s playing rhythm guitar with some hole-in-the-wall band and finding gigs wherever he can.”
The stilted tone in his voice should have put her off, but Sassy had never been one to contain her curiosity. Besides, she’d already told him so much about herself, it would hardly hurt him to reveal a few facts about his personal life.
“So, he doesn’t live around here?”
The road crested over a hill and took a steep dive straight down into a narrow gully. Jett shifted the truck into a lower gear to slow their descent.
After a moment, he answered, “No one in the family has seen Gary Sundell in several years. He and Mom divorced about fifteen years ago, when I graduated from high school. After that, he left the area.”
“And doesn’t keep in touch.” She murmured her thoughts out loud. “That’s odd.”
A mocking expression twisted his features. “Not for my dad. He’s one of those free spirits who don’t believe in ties of any kind. Looking back, I’m surprised Mom and us kids kept him around as long as we did.”
“Do you hate him for leaving?”
He shrugged. “Hate him? No. What’s the good of having someone hang around out of obligation? I’m a realist, Sassy. I don’t need that.”
“Hmm. I guess my parents, whoever they were, didn’t want to hang around for me, either. But so far I’ve survived. And so have you.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “So have I.”
At the bottom of the gully, the road curved around a high bank, then climbed to another flat range. When they reached the crest, Sassy spotted a large herd of mixed-breed cows gathered around several wooden feed troughs. Upon seeing the truck, the red and brown animals began to run and buck with excitement.
“They must be very hungry,” Sassy observed. “On the Chaparral the winter feeding starts early. We have so much snow in the mountains it buries the grass.”
“Winter has put a hold on most of the grasses here, too. My cattle depend on me for a nice meal.”
“There the cowboys put molasses licks out to supplement the alfalfa. Do you do that, too?”
“No. But I’ve considered it.” He cast a curious glance at her. “I thought you were a maid. How do you know about feeding cattle?”
“I’ve worked on the Chaparral for seven years. On my time off I watch and learn. I love the animals and being outdoors. It’s a dream of mine to be able to ranch for myself one day. That probably sounds far-fetched to you. But a person has to have dreams. And I want to raise my child in a country setting—with those basic values.”
“You surprise me, Sassy. I would’ve taken you for a girl who liked the lights of town.”
She shrugged. “Visiting town is fun. But a person can’t play all the time.”
He braked to a stop. “Speaking of town, since Bella is gone I’ve decided you and I are going out to eat later on.”
“Out? But why? As far as I’m concerned, another salami sandwich would be just dandy.”
About to open the door, he paused to look at her. “Forget the salami. Even though it’s Saturday, I managed to snag reservations at my favorite restaurant. Only because I’m friends with the owner. We might be sitting in the broom closet, but I promise the food will be delicious. Then, after we eat, we’ll drive on over to the Silver Horn.”
“There’s no need for you to go to all this trouble just for my benefit.”
As he jerked open the door, he said, “Sassy, you’re giving me an excuse to do something I’ve not done in a long time. So don’t spoil it for me.”
She hardly knew what he meant by that, but it didn’t matter. Spending time with this man was starting to feel very good and there was no harm in enjoying herself before she flew back to New Mexico.
Smiling, she said, “Okay, then, I’m looking forward to it.”
* * *
Later that evening, Sassy stood in front of the dresser mirror in her bedroom and wondered if she was making a giant mistake. Living on a maid’s wages didn’t exactly give her the opportunity to buy dressy clothing, but out of the generous gift that Frankie had given her for this trip, she’d purchased a few pieces from a nice boutique in Ruidoso. This evening she’d chosen an emerald-green jersey dress that wrapped