Not Your Average Cowboy. Christine WengerЧитать онлайн книгу.
had been starved for someone to talk to, someone who’d pay her attention to break through her shyness. Cait didn’t seem to care.
Merry had heard the old chestnut, “Children should be seen, but not heard,” a million times from one of her parents, usually whenever a dinner guest would comment on what a well-behaved child they had. In Merry’s case, she was just trying to be perfect to please her parents. Cait had more significant problems.
What could she do to reach Caitlin that her family and the best psychiatrists couldn’t? Merry was a TV cook and a hospitality expert. What made her think that she could break through Cait’s shell?
Merry petted the stuffed cat’s head. “What’s your kitty’s name, Cait?”
Silence. Merry looked at Karen.
“Tell Merry that your kitty’s name is Princess, Cait,” Karen said.
Cait remained silent, so Merry decided to tell her a story. “Princess. What a perfect name for your pretty kitty. My kitty’s name is Bonita. I’ve had Bonita since I was a little girl. Do you want to know a secret, Cait?” Merry could see a hint of interest in the girl’s eyes. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I told Bonita all my secrets. I bet you tell all yours to Princess.”
Merry could have sworn that Cait gave a slight nod. She didn’t know if she did that regularly or not, but it made Merry feel good.
She turned to Buck to see if he’d noticed Cait’s small reaction to her. He gave a slight nod and a wink indicating that he had. For some reason, that made her feel even better.
“Buck?” Karen motioned for Buck to come over to her bedside. She put her hands around his neck as if she were choking him, and said, “Get out of here, you big lummox, so I can get some sleep.”
When he bent over her bed, she hugged him. “Really, Buck. Take Merry and Cait home. Merry’s dead on her feet, Cait is tired and so are you. There’s nothing either of you can do here.”
“I’ll call Louise and tell her what happened,” Buck said. “And then I’ll try to find Ty. One of his buddies will know which jail he’s in this time.”
Karen yawned. “He’s up at the line shack and you know it. And make sure Lou doesn’t come home. She needs to take her bar exam.”
“She’d better pass so she can get a job and finally earn her own keep. I’m not supporting her any longer.” His voice was gruff, but his eyes twinkled.
The ride back to the ranch was quiet. Cait slept sandwiched between Merry and Buck. Even in sleep, she was guarded. Her head didn’t lean any farther to the left, because if it did, it would have rested on her father’s arm. Nor did she lean to the right, as Merry was there, a stranger she only knew from TV.
Merry wanted to know what had happened between Buck and his daughter to make the little girl shun his affection. Could Cait still be that traumatized because her mother had left her? Maybe it was because Buck had thrown himself into his work and ignored her at a critical time in her young life.
Merry supposed it was possible that both of these things could have made Cait withdraw.
It was obvious that Buck loved his daughter, but he seemed frustrated as to what to do at this point.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Buck gently take Cait’s little hand and hold it. Merry blinked back tears. At least when the girl was sleeping, she didn’t pull away from him.
Merry’s own eyes wouldn’t stay open, and she felt herself floating into sleep. Her head was so heavy, she couldn’t help but lean the side of her face against the cold pane of the truck’s window.
She let herself drift off, just a little.
“Hey, Meredith Something Turner, wake up,” whispered a deep voice. “We’re here.”
“This isn’t Boston,” she mumbled, trying to get the cobwebs out of her brain.
“Far from it.”
Rubbing her eyes, she noticed that the passenger’s side door was open, and Buck held his daughter and the stuffed cat—Princess—in his arms.
Then she remembered. She was at the Porter ranch.
She scrambled out of the tall pickup, shut the door and followed unsteadily behind him, more than a little sleep-drunk.
“Would you mind opening the door? The key’s under the third flowerpot from the right.”
Merry found the key and was unlocking the door when she heard Buck humming a soft tune. She stole a glance at the big cowboy, swaying slowly, studying his daughter, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms.
By the light of the moon, she could see the love on his face. Yet bone-deep sadness was visible in the tightness around his mouth. His daughter couldn’t—or wouldn’t—return his love.
He met her gaze as she held the door open for him to enter the house.
When he was halfway down the hallway with Cait in his arms, he asked, “Is there anything you need?”
“No. I’m fine. You just take care of Cait.”
He shifted his daughter’s weight. Cait gave a little sound but never woke. “Cait has been sleeping in here because her room is being painted. We were going to move her to Karen’s room when you arrived, but her room isn’t done yet, either. The painters just need one more day so they can finish up. Then we can get everything back to normal.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what Karen had in mind for sleeping arrangements for Cait tonight. The two of them were sharing my bed. Every other room is cluttered with furniture and smelling of paint. I could put Cait on the couch in the living room.”
“Don’t you dare put her on the couch. If anyone goes on the couch, it’ll be me. Cait can have the tree bed.” She remembered that Buck had moved out of his room. “I could take the futon, that’s perfectly fine with me. But I don’t want Cait waking up, seeing me, and being scared. I’m really a stranger to her.”
“Everyone’s a stranger to her,” he whispered.
Merry followed Buck into her room. She flung back the linens of the tree bed. “She must be getting heavy.”
“Never.”
He set his daughter down gently, her head on the pillow. He took off her shoes and set them on the floor. Then he placed the stuffed cat next to her. He moved the sheet, blanket and comforter over Cait and gently brushed her hair from her face. He kissed her softly on the forehead. “G’night, Caitie. May your dreams be as sweet as you.”
How beautiful, Merry thought. How loving. If just once her mother or father had said something like that to her, but they never had. She’d gotten all her kind words from Pamela, the housekeeper.
He stood, looking at his daughter for a while, and then turned as if suddenly remembering that Merry was there.
“I should get you settled.” He looked around the room. “Where did Karen put the linens for the futon? They’re probably in the closet in the bathroom.”
He suddenly looked tired.
“I can handle it.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“Buck, are you sure I shouldn’t sleep on the couch? If she wakes up and I’m here—”
“Hard to tell what Cait will do. She seems to tolerate you more than some,” he said. “She knows you from TV, so you’re not a complete stranger. I’m sure she’ll be okay, but it’s late, so if you don’t mind for one night…”
“No. Not at all.”
For what seemed like an eternity, he stared at Merry. “You know, if you’re scared to be alone, I can sleep here, too.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I