Sharon Swan

Cowboys And Cradles


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asked for, I’d like something in return.”

      He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Simple, it was becoming as clear as daylight, was not a word to be used in connection with this woman.

      “And what’s that?” he asked warily.

      She didn’t hesitate a second. “I want your agreement that you’ll remain with the Creedence Creek for the next six months, no matter what I decide to do here.”

      Ryder ran his tongue over his teeth. Agreeing to stay was no problem. Long before those six months were up, he’d probably be the owner. It was the “no matter what” that bothered him.

      Somehow he’d assumed the ranch would remain pretty much as it was, going on as it always had. A foolish assumption, he now realized. Yet what could she possibly plan to do with it? he asked himself, frowning in thought.

      Suddenly something occurred to him, and it was horrible enough to make him shudder. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you want to turn this place into one of those god-awful dude ranches. Please, whatever you do, don’t tell me that.”

      Looking amused, she shook her head and sent shiny silver hoops swinging from delicately shaped ears. “I won’t tell you that.”

      He let out the long gust of air he’d been holding back. “Thank the Lord…and thank you.”

      “You’re welcome. But I still don’t have your agreement,” she reminded him.

      Since, in his opinion, practically nothing could be worse than playing mother hen to a bunch of greenhorns who didn’t know a horse’s rear from a hole in the ground, Ryder nodded. “You’ve got it—and I’ll put that in writing.”

      Eve slapped her palms on the desktop and stood up. “Good, that’s settled then. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

      He should have been equally pleased—would have been, if the last turn the conversation had taken wasn’t still bothering him. She wanted him to ask, was waiting for it, in fact. A sly glint in her eye told him that. If he had a lick of sense, he wouldn’t open his mouth. But he had to know.

      “All right. Spill it. What do you intend to do with the place?”

      Her lips curved in a slight smile. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to learn that I’m leaving most of it as it is.”

      He threw a swift look up at the beamed ceiling. Thanks again, Lord.

      “I have some real changes planned for this house, though,” she tacked on with an appraising glance around a room that contained no more than the basics.

      And this woman would want more than the basics. Of course, she would. Curtains, drapes, a few rugs scattered about. Some pictures on the white stucco walls. That’s what she had in mind, he assured himself. Simple stuff.

      Then he remembered that simple didn’t apply here. She didn’t even travel simple. He’d already been told she’d arrived with enough luggage to sink a battleship, and more stuff was likely on the way.

      Again, he didn’t want to ask. Again, he found himself asking anyway. “Exactly what kind of changes do you have in mind?”

      As she’d done earlier, Eve met his gaze head-on and didn’t so much as blink. “To be exact, I’m turning a portion of this house into a day care center.” The words were soft, the underlying tone firm. “A free day care center.”

      He frowned. He couldn’t have understood her correctly. Surely he couldn’t have. “A day care center?”

      She nodded slowly. “A day nursery, actually.”

      “A nursery?” His frown deepened.

      “Mmm-hmm. You know…for babies.”

      Chapter Two

      “Babies.”

      Eve had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. Judging by the blankly stunned expression on Ryder Quinn’s face, she had surprised him, and surprised him well. “Yes, those little darlings who pop out nine months after mom and dad go to bed and do a lot more than sleep.”

      He looked at her as if she had just said she’d landed from another planet. “You are flat-out crazy!”

      “You’re welcome to think so,” she calmly informed him. “However, the attorney general of this state, being a perceptive woman, considers it a great idea.”

      Ryder chewed that over for a second. “And where did you happen to bump into her?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

      “At a charity fund-raiser during Super Bowl celebrations a few years ago. We’ve kept in touch for quite a while. She loves the Sassy Lady line, by the way.”

      “Uh-huh. Sure.”

      “Believe what you want, but the end result is that she’s willing to help me deal with all the bureaucratic regulations involved in this type of thing. If she’s as good as her word, which I don’t doubt for a minute, the center should be up and running in a couple of weeks.”

      Ryder sat down on the edge of the desk, looking so disgusted she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “Is the first lady, or maybe the Queen of England, in on this too?”

      She had to smile. “No, they both missed that fundraiser.”

      “What other big shots do you know?”

      She searched for someone who would truly impress him. Unfortunately she’d never run into Clint Eastwood. “Well, I did meet Brad Pitt once.” For about thirty seconds.

      After studying her for a long moment, Ryder blew out a resigned breath. “You’re not making any of this up, are you?” Since it wasn’t really a question, she remained silent. “This isn’t a bad dream. You really are going to turn this place into a Bonanza for babies—the old TV show with a big twist.”

      “Yes,” she agreed, “if you want to put it that way. My plan is to give new mothers who can’t afford other forms of day care a chance to either work or go back to school. The service will be free of charge, but if it allows even one woman to keep a child she wants to keep, I’ll consider myself well paid.”

      Something in her voice must have alerted him. His gaze was suddenly probing. “This is personal, isn’t it, Eve?”

      She turned to walk toward the window, saw the sun low on the horizon. Sunsets here, she’d already discovered, could be spectacular. “Yes, it’s personal,” she replied quietly. “I want to help mothers keep children, because mine didn’t keep me.”

      Eve lifted a hand and rubbed a dark smudge from the glass. “The thing was, she wanted to keep me, which I only learned a few years ago. She wasn’t married when I was born. She is now. Her husband seems like a good man. They lived in Tucson when we all met for the first time, in probably a nicer area of the city than I suspect she once lived in. Now they’ve moved to El Paso. I stopped by to see them again on the drive here. They have three children. It appears to be a very happy family. I might have been part of it, if the woman who gave birth to me had had the resources at seventeen to care for a baby.”

      “What happened after she gave you up?” Ryder asked softly.

      Eve switched back to face him. “I was lucky. Two great people adopted me. When I was old enough to understand, they were straightforward about the adoption, and I was comfortable with it because I never doubted they loved me. I grew up in a middle-class area of Dallas, had lots of friends. I was happy. Yet something was always…missing. A link with the past, I suppose you could say. For instance, my adopted parents were small in stature—I was taller than both by the time I was thirteen. Where had my height come from? I often wondered. Then, too, I loved to draw almost from the time I could walk. Crayons were far more treasured than toys. Neither of the people who raised me had any artistic leanings. I learned from my birth mother that