The Colorado Kid

For the first time, Matty registered that someone was missing from the household. The baby had distracted her, but now that the little tyke was dozing on her shoulder, she could take better stock of the situation. “Where’s Fleafarm?” she called into the kitchen.

He came back into the dining room, still looking uncomfortable. “Down in the barn.”

“Why?” She had a good idea, but she wanted to see if he’d admit it.

He flushed, and instead of answering, he crossed to the table and grabbed the instructions from the top of the box. “Let’s see. She says something about a changing pad. This saddle-blanket thing must be a changing pad.” He flopped a quilted pad with ducks and chicks on it across the table’s gleaming mahogany surface.

His banishment of his dog made her more indignant than the candles, the roses, the china or the napkins. “What’s the matter? Doesn’t Charlotte like dogs, either?”

“She, uh, mentioned that a dog could sort of…ruin the mood.”

“Go get Fleafarm.”

He gestured toward the box. “I thought you wanted me to—”

“I do. You can be back in two minutes. But it’s cold in that barn, and Fleafarm is getting on in years. I can’t believe you put that poor dog in the barn so that you and Charlotte could play house.”

“We didn’t do a blasted thing, okay? The baby showed up! And I didn’t just drop Fleafarm off at the barn. I made her a real nice bed, with lots of blankets.”

So they hadn’t had time for the planned hanky-panky. In gratitude Matty cuddled the baby a little closer. “I don’t care if you gave that dog twenty blankets. She should be up here at the house. She’s a member of the family, dammit. She probably thinks she did something wrong to make you put her out there.”

“It’s not that all-fired cold.” Muttering under his breath, Sebastian stomped back into the kitchen. He crammed his Stetson on his head and went out the back door. But as if to prove his point about the weather, he didn’t bother with the sheepskin jacket hanging on a hook by the door.

Matty sighed. “Men.” She nuzzled the drowsy baby in her arms. “I can teach you a lot of things, Elizabeth. I can show you how to ride like the wind without falling off, how to quiet a spooky herd of cattle and how to swing the sweetest rope in this valley. But when it comes to men, I don’t have a single bit of advice to give you.”

Shifting the baby’s weight awkwardly so she could pull out a dining room chair, she sat down to wait for that idiot man who was going to freeze his butt to prove a point.

THE NIGHT AIR bit right through Sebastian’s shirt and jeans as he hurried down to the barn. Seeing things through Matty’s eyes, he felt like a damn fool for making Fleafarm bunk down in the barn. But hell, he hadn’t had a date in fourteen years and the process had intimidated him into doing stupid things.

Maybe he should give up on women entirely. Except he didn’t really have that option now, not if Elizabeth was his. He had to find Jessica and discover the truth. If he was Elizabeth’s father, then he’d talk Jessica into marrying him. He’d had to grow up without both parents around, but he’d be damned if his kid would go through the same thing.

He slid back the bolt and opened the heavy barn door. Instead of turning on a light and getting the horses agitated, he whistled softly for Fleafarm in the darkness.

Tags jingling, she trotted toward him and shoved her wet muzzle in his hand.

“Come on, girl. You’ve been sprung.” He held the door open for the dog, then closed it securely after her. Fleafarm was of mixed ancestry. She had the rusty coat of a setter, four white socks and a temperament that hinted of a Border collie lurking somewhere in her background, and the body composition of a retriever.

Sebastian had found her wandering on the road, bedraggled and pregnant, eight years ago. Barbara’s impulsive nickname had stuck, but Sebastian often wished he’d insisted on a more flattering handle for the animal. Fleafarm was one great dog.

She glanced back at him as if asking for permission to go into the house. With a stab of guilt, he realized Matty had been right. The dog had thought she was being punished.

“Go on. It’s okay.”

With a little whine of delight, Fleafarm bounded up to the back door and stood there wagging her plume of a tail, her breath making clouds in the cold air. Sebastian felt like a total heel.

And he felt damned cold, too. The warmth of the house wrapped around him like an embrace when he went into the kitchen with Fleafarm. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them.

From the dining room came the sound of Elizabeth fretting. She wasn’t crying, thank God, just fussing. Fleafarm stopped dead in her tracks and lifted her floppy ears.

“It’s a baby.” Sebastian hung his hat on a peg by the door and laid a hand on the dog’s head. “Don’t reckon you’ve ever been around one.”

Fleafarm gave a sharp little bark and advanced slowly toward the sound that obviously fascinated her.

“Hey, Fleafarm!” Matty called. “Come and say hello to Elizabeth.”

The dog moved warily into the dining room. Then she cocked her head and gazed at Matty sitting in a dining room chair, Elizabeth cradled in her arms.

Sebastian had a moment of uneasiness as the dog drew closer. “Do you think it’s okay?”

“I think it’s essential. You want Fleafarm to be protective of her, don’t you?”

He hadn’t gotten that far in his thinking. “Does it matter? Elizabeth might only be here a few days.”

“She might.” Matty glanced at him. “Or she might be here a whole lot longer. Unless Jessica mentioned a specific time frame for this caper?”

“Not exactly. The note only said she wanted me to be a godfather to Elizabeth until she could return for her.”

“Which leaves this operation completely open-ended. You’d better prepare yourself for more than a few days. I’m not sure you realize yet that your life has just been turned upside down.”

“Oh, it’s beginning to sink in.”

“Good. Facing reality is admirable.” Matty watched the dog edge closer. “It’s okay, Fleafarm. You’ve been a mommy, so you know about babies. This is like a puppy, only bigger. And less hair.” She glanced up at Sebastian. “Maybe you should come on over here and pet Fleafarm while she gets used to the idea of this baby. We don’t want jealousy getting in the way of bonding. And we don’t want Fleafarm to slobber over Elizabeth and scare her to death.”

Sebastian walked over and scratched the dog behind her ears. Then he crouched down and wrapped an arm around the silky neck, restraining her gently. The dog’s coat was cold, and Sebastian was still shivering from his jaunt outside, but he worked to control it so Matty wouldn’t have cause to say she told him so.

He turned to the dog. “You wouldn’t be jealous of that little baby, would you Fleafarm?”

She whined and licked his face.

“Oh, yes, she would,” Matty said. “But if you make sure she knows you still love her, she’ll probably guard this baby with her life. At least that’s the way it worked with my nieces and nephews and the dogs they had. You have to make sure you don’t appear to be giving more attention to Elizabeth than you do to Fleafarm.”

“This sure is getting complicated.”

Matty looked into his eyes. “You still have a choice.”

He gazed back at her. “No, I don’t.”

Elizabeth made a soft, cooing sound, like a dove on a summer morning.

Sebastian glanced at the baby in surprise and pleasure. Now there was a noise he could grow fond of.

Elizabeth stared at the dog and her little fists waved in the air. For the first time Sebastian admitted she was sort of cute, with her fuzzy crop of light-colored hair and round baby face. She cooed again.

Fleafarm whined and wagged her tail.

“Love at first sight,” Matty pronounced.

“No such thing,” Sebastian said. He wasn’t even sure what love was, period. He’d thought he was in love with Barbara, but she hadn’t been in love with him, at least not for very long—and certainly not when she was carrying on with Butch for all those years.