Judy Duarte

Having The Cowboy's Baby


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memorable, just as good, as the one he’d written for his grandparents.

      He stopped playing when she approached and cast her a heart-strumming smile instead.

      “Was that another new song?” she asked, assuming it was and adjusting the platter in her arms.

      “Yep.”

      Ian didn’t realize how talented he was. Not only could he play and sing, but he had a way with lyrics, too. Most musicians would give up their birthrights to be able to write songs the way he could.

      He set his guitar aside, next to where Cheyenne lay snoozing. “What do you have there? Did you bring dessert?”

      Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach must have been spot-on. She just hoped Granny’s brownies were as persuasive as the note on the recipe suggested they were.

      Carly stepped up on the porch and lifted the foil covering from the platter. “This is my first attempt to make Granny’s blue-ribbon brownies. Tell me what you think.”

      Ian reached for one of the frosted squares and took a bite. As he chewed, his eyes closed and his expression morphed into one of such pleasure that she didn’t need a verbal response. But when she got one, it was just what she’d expected.

      “These are awesome, Carly. I had no idea you could bake like this.”

      She hoped he didn’t get any ideas about her changing careers, because there was no way that would ever happen. “Thanks, but it was just a matter of following the directions on the recipe card. Granny was the baker in the family.”

      “That’s for sure. A couple of days after I started working here, your great-grandmother asked me to have dinner with her.” He burst into a broad grin, his eyes glimmering. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh green beans. I’ll never forget that meal—or any of the others that followed. I would have done anything Granny asked me to do just to get another invitation to sit at her table.”

      That’s the magic Carly hoped the brownies would work for her. She offered Ian a warm smile. “Granny loved cooking and baking for people.”

      “She sure did. I really lucked out when I landed a job on the Leaning R. And not because I needed the work. I’d been homesick, so we kind of filled a need for each other.”

      Guilt swirled up inside again, twisting Carly’s tummy into a knot. “I guess she was lonely after my brothers and I grew up and didn’t need her to look after us anymore.”

      “She understood that kids should have a life of their own. But it was your father who seemed to abandon her. He got so caught up in his life and his business that she often felt neglected and forgotten.”

      “I know. Granny said as much to me. His parents died in a small plane crash when he was a kid, and Granny raised him until his maternal grandfather insisted he attend college in California. That side of the family was very rich, and he was smitten by the glitz and glamour.”

      “Granny didn’t hold that against him,” Ian said. “But she still thought he should have called to check on her or stopped in to visit more often than he did.”

      Carly knew how the older woman felt. Heck, they all did. Charles Rayburn had been very generous with his money, but not with his time. And both of her brothers would agree.

      “I hope I didn’t let Granny down,” she said.

      “She never mentioned anything to me about you kids disappointing her.”

      Carly studied the handsome cowboy who seemed to have become her great-grandma’s confidant at the end. “The two of you must have become pretty tight.”

      He gave a shrug. “I grew up with my grandparents, too. When I got tired of roaming and doing my own thing, I wanted to move back home. But by that time, Granddad had already retired, sold the ranch and moved to Florida to live near my uncle and his family. So I had to find another place to fall back on. That’s when I met Granny. Three years ago. I was passing through Brighton Valley and stopped to have breakfast at Caroline’s Diner. Granny needed an extra hand, and I wanted a job. Things ended up working out well for both of us.”

      “I guess it did. But there’s something I’ve always wondered and never asked. Why did you stay on, especially now that things are so up in the air? It would seem to me that you’d look for work on a ranch that’s more stable—and more successful.”

      Ian studied the pretty blonde, her curls tumbling along her shoulders, her blue eyes bright, the lashes thick and lush without the need for mascara.

      She brushed the strand of hair from her eyes. “Was the question so difficult that you have to think about your answer? Most foremen would have moved on, especially when no one seemed to care about the Leaning R like my great-grandma did.”

      There was a lot Carly didn’t know about Ian, a lot he hadn’t shared. And he wasn’t sure how much he wanted her to know.

      He hadn’t just been looking for work when he’d landed the job on the Leaning R, he’d been looking for a place to call home. And the elderly widow hadn’t just found a ranch hand and future foreman, she’d found the grandson she’d always hoped Charles would be.

      The two had looked after each other until her death. And even when Rosabelle Rayburn was gone and the late Charles Rayburn had taken charge of her estate, Ian had continued to look after her best interests. It soon became clear that Charles hadn’t given a rip about the ranch, and if Ian hadn’t been there, who knew what would have happened to the Leaning R?

      Like Granddad used to say, You can’t buy loyalty, son. But when it’s earned and real, it lasts beyond death. And those words had proven to be true when it came to Rosabelle and the ranch she’d loved.

      Ian shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, I like Brighton Valley. And I plan to settle here and buy a piece of land.”

      After Charles died and his oldest son, Jason, became the trustee, Jason had announced that he intended to sell the ranch. When Ian heard that, he decided to purchase it himself. He’d developed more than a fondness for the Leaning R, and not just because he’d worked the land. He’d enjoyed all the stories Granny used to tell him about the history of the place, about the rugged Rayburn men who’d once run cattle here.

      “I take it you’ve been putting some money aside,” Carly said.

      “You could say that.”

      “If you need any help, let me know. I’d be happy to loan you some.” Carly had a trust fund, so she didn’t have any financial worries. Apparently, she assumed Ian was little more than a drifter and needed her charity.

      “Thanks, but I’ll be all right.”

      It might come as a big surprise to Carly and her brothers—because it certainly had to Ralph Nettles, the Realtor who would be listing the property—but Ian had money stashed away from his days on the road with Felicia. He also had plenty of royalties coming in from the songs he’d written for her.

      So, since he could no longer inherit or purchase the Rocking M from his granddad, buying the Leaning R was the next best thing.

      “You know that song you were just playing?” Carly asked.

      “What about it?”

      “Would you sing it for me? From the beginning?”

      Ian had written it right after she’d left the ranch the last time, after they’d both come to the decision that it would be best to end things between them. And while Carly had seemed to think their breakup had been permanent, he hadn’t been convinced. She usually came running back to the Leaning R whenever life dealt her a blow, so he’d known she’d return—eventually.

      Not that he’d expected her to fail. Hell, she had more talent than her mother and—from what Ian had seen and heard—more heart than either of her parents. And he suspected that, deep down, what she really yearned for was