Mary Baxter – Slow Talkin' Texan (страница 2)

Thank goodness there were only two babies in their care. Meg had chosen the little girl, because she was the most hyper. Matthew, on the other hand, had so far been content to remain on the floor and play with the toys that surrounded him.

Ellen glanced at her watch and breathed a sigh of relief. If all went according to plan, in thirty more minutes church would be over and her obligation ended. Her thoughts were interrupted by her sister’s voice.

“I know this is probably a no-no, but have you heard from your ex?”

Ellen avoided looking at her sister, and when she spoke, her answer was succinct. “No.”

“Oops. Did I hit a sore spot? I have a habit of putting my big foot in my mouth.”

Ellen forced a smile. “That you do, sis dear. But in this case, you didn’t. Besides, he doesn’t want to talk to me any more than I want to talk to him. We’re history.”

“God, I hope so. You deserve to be happy, something that would never have happened if you’d stayed with him.”

“Speaking of husbands, how’s Ralph?”

“The same. Gone all the time,” Meg admitted with brutal frankness.

Ralph was a truck driver who Ellen thought preferred being on the road rather than tending to responsibilities at home. Apparently Meg agreed, though she’d never voiced her displeasure before.

“How’s his health?” Ellen asked, her concern growing.

“The doctor can’t seem to get his diabetes under control. And his driving that truck all over the country doesn’t help the situation.”

“Maybe the doctor can get through to him.”

“He won’t listen. Besides, I don’t know what we’d do if he did get off the road, though he’s not getting the good hauls like he used to.”

“Meggy, I sense something’s going on that I need to know about.”

“No more than usual. It’s just that Kyle’s seventeen and needs his dad around. It’s all I can do to keep the bit in his mouth. I love him, but sometimes I could strangle him. And Ralph, too.”

Ellen almost flinched visibly on hearing the pain and frustration in her sister’s voice. Cutting another glance at Meg, she saw those emotions on her face, as well.

While Meg had never lost the weight after Kyle was born, at thirty-five she was still an attractive, brown-eyed brunette. But Ellen sensed that her sister was under more stress than she let on, suspecting the family was not only short on unity but funds, as well.

However, Ellen was reluctant to voice those thoughts. Meg was both proud and private, but when and if she needed help, hopefully she would ask for it.

Though they were as different in looks and personality as two sisters could be, they were close, having lost their parents within a year of each other—one to cancer and the other to a stroke. That tragedy had created a bond that would never be broken.

Suddenly Matthew let out a wail, jerking her back to the moment at hand. Shoving a strand of strawberry blond hair out of her face, Ellen got out of the chair, leaned over and hauled him into her arms.

Meg grinned. “He’s quite a chunk, isn’t he?”

“You can say that again. If I had to carry him around for any length of time, I think he’d break my arms.”

“You’d get used to it.”

“I doubt that.” Then, to Matt, she said, “Hey, kid, mind your manners and stop wiggling.”

“You might as well ask for a million dollars,” Meg said. “Him being still ain’t gonna happen.”

“I guess I’d best check his diaper.” Ellen’s tone was resigned. “Maybe that’s what’s wrong with him.”

“Probably.”

Ellen gave Meg a pleading look. “I’ll hold Miss Prissy if you’ll change him for me.”

“Not on your life. He’s yours for the duration.”

“I’ll remember this.”

Meg laughed. “I’m sure you will—for more reasons than one.”

“Oh, all right, have your fun. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Go for it, sis.”

Ellen made a face at Meg before she carried Matthew across the room to the changing station and laid him down. Immediately he started crying and flinging his arms and legs about.

“Hey, sweetie, hold your horses, okay? This won’t take long, I promise.”

Somehow Ellen managed to get his diaper, which was indeed wet, off. In fact, it was soaked. Much to her relief, that was all he’d done.

From behind, Ellen heard her sister chuckling. Without turning, she said, “Behave yourself and get your butt over here and help me.”

“You don’t need me. You’re doing just fine.”

“How can you say that when he’s squirming so hard I can’t get the clean diaper under him?” Ellen asked.

“You’ll manage.”

“Megan,” Ellen said through clenched teeth, “I swear if this kid pees on me, I’ll—” Suddenly she broke off with a loud cry as a stream of liquid shot up and landed first on her chin and then on her yellow silk blouse.

For a moment Ellen froze. Then she let out a loud cry of her own. “Yuk!”

“Uh-oh, looks like he had an accident.” Meg’s voice quivered with laughter. “I can’t believe the little fellow did that.”

“Yes, you can,” Ellen spat, fighting to get the diaper under Matt and the tabs in place. Once that was done, she whipped around to face her sister, only to stop and stare at the doorway.

A man with a wide grin splayed across his face filled the space. That grin turned lazy as his eyes toured her body. Ellen flushed, conscious of the ugly stain front and center on her blouse.

Flustered and unnerved by this stranger’s stare, which seemed to make fun of her ineptness, she snapped her eyes off him and back onto the still-squirming baby.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Ellen responded in a scoffing tone, thinking it unlikely that this rangy cowboy was any more adept at changing a diaper than she was. “Everything’s under control.”

“Are you sure about that?” he drawled

“Yes, I’m sure,” Ellen said coldly.

Megan stood and cleared her throat. “Uh, Ellen, this is Porter Wyman, Matthew’s daddy.”

Two

More mortified than she’d ever been in her life, Ellen stood transfixed and watched as Matthew’s daddy, six feet of muscle and brawn, tipped his hat, then sauntered toward them.

The instant Matthew saw his daddy, he squirmed, waved his arms and grinned from ear to ear.

“Whoa, little boy.” Ellen held on to him for dear life, fearing he was going to leap out of her arms.

“He’s a handful, I’ll admit,” Porter said, reaching to take him from Ellen.

Feeling splotches of color invade her cheeks, Ellen kept her face averted. She had no idea what this man was thinking, but she could guess. All the more reason not to be on the receiving end of those brown eyes that reminded her of dark chocolate.

“Hey, son, you and me need to have a talk,” Porter said in a gravelly voice that sounded as if he could easily have been a drinking man.

Ellen knew better. He was in too good shape physically, especially his midsection. Even though it was disguised under a cotton shirt, she bet it would resemble an old-time washboard. Realizing the direction her thoughts had taken, her color heightened.

“Yeah, son, when we get home, we’ve got to talk about manners.”

“I’ll have to say, he pulled a boner,” Meg chimed in, laughter threatening to bubble over.

“Shame on you.” Porter gave his son a playful tug on the chin before transferring his gaze to Megan.

“How ’bout introducing me to your friend my son just assaulted?”

Ellen forced herself to look at her sister, then at Porter. They were having a good laugh at her expense, and she wanted to turn up her nose at them. But she knew that would make the situation worse for her. She kept her features devoid of emotion. Yet she couldn’t help but bristle inside.