The 15 Lb. Matchmaker. Jill Limber

to stare at Griff Price. That was Margie?

      Chapter Two

      So much for making assumptions, Jolie thought. Obviously Margie was not Griff Price’s wife.

      Jolie tore her surprised look away from Griff and looked back to see Margie, driving like someone qualifying for the Indy 500, head out to the main road in a cloud of dust.

      Not meeting her eye, Griff took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “She was in a hurry.”

      Jolie choked back a sarcastic remark. He turned to go back out the door, as if that was all the information Jolie needed.

      Was he just going to leave her standing here? She stepped in front of him, grabbing the sleeve of his sheepskin jacket, blocking his path. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”

      He stared at her for a moment with those sky-blue eyes, then shook her hand off his arm and ran his hands tiredly over his face. “I told you. I have stock that needs tending.”

      Confused, Jolie looked around. “Is your wife here?”

      His face hardened into a scowl. “No wife.”

      Jolie’s hand dropped to her side, and she eyed the big cowboy. Now a few of the pieces of the puzzle that hadn’t made sense fell into place.

      She suspected she knew why he was acting so rude. His wife had left him with their child. He was hurting and he covered it up with anger. How many times had she watched her father do the same thing?

      “I’m sorry.” It sounded trite, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

      “Don’t be.” He said curtly and shrugged one shoulder as if he wanted her to think it didn’t bother him. Abruptly he turned toward the stairs. “I’ll show you the baby’s room.”

      She followed him, her heels clicking on the bare wood of the stairs. He stopped at an open door and gestured for her to go ahead of him.

      The only light in the room came from the hall. Jolie could see a crib in the corner and assumed Griff’s son was asleep. Then, as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she saw movement in the small bed.

      Jolie turned to ask Griff the child’s name, and the words died on her lips.

      He was gone.

      He had left her standing alone in the doorway, with no information about his son. Jolie felt the outrage grow inside her.

      How could he leave her standing here without even bothering to give her the baby’s name? Angry or not, the man needed to pull himself together for the sake of his child.

      Jolie flipped the light switch. The baby boy sat quietly in the corner of his crib, staring at her, his big blue eyes blinking against the sudden light. He had a head of blond curls and was going to grow up to look just like his daddy.

      Jolie hoped he ended up with a better disposition.

      “Well hello there, little guy,” she said.

      Staying where she was for a moment, she smiled at the child, afraid to approach too quickly and frighten him. She knew some babies were afraid of strangers.

      He was about the size of her cousin’s youngest child, so she guessed he must be about ten months old. “Did you just wake up?”

      Jolie took her jacket off and laid it over the back of a chair. “My name is Jolie.”

      Slowly she moved into the middle of the room, then stopped about five feet from the battered crib. “I don’t know your name because your daddy had to leave in a hurry.” And he’s a handsome, rude man, she added to herself.

      The baby sat motionless, staring at her with his big blue eyes.

      “So this is your room. I don’t know where I’m supposed to sleep.” The baby’s room contained just the crib, an old wooden dresser and a single bed with a bare mattress.

      No toys or stuffed animals littered the room. Griff’s housekeeper must be a very tidy woman. “Where’s all your stuff?”

      The baby didn’t move or change his facial expression at her inane conversation. He just continued to stare at her. She moved a little closer to the bed and watched him watching her.

      “Are you ready to get up?” Jolie had no idea if he was waking from a nap, or had been put down for the night. She took another step toward the bed, feeling as though she was in the middle of a one-person, red-light-green-light game.

      When he showed no signs of being alarmed by her presence, Jolie moved all the way to the bars of the crib. He was dressed in a blanket sleeper, and she could tell from where she stood that he needed a fresh diaper.

      “How about we get you cleaned up and go find your daddy. I have some things I need to say to him,” she said, not allowing her annoyance to show in her voice.

      It wasn’t the baby’s fault that his father had no manners.

      She lowered the side of the crib and reached in to get him. He allowed her to pick him up, and when she lifted him up against her chest, he put his head on her shoulder and wound his arms around her neck, then gave what sounded like a little sigh as he nestled into her body.

      Jolie felt her heart turn over. In that instant she fell in love with a little boy whose name she didn’t even know.

      Jolie sat at the dining room table, her temper simmering just below the boiling point. Holding the quiet baby in her lap with one hand and, with the other, folding clean baby clothes she had discovered in the dryer, she waited for Griff Price to return.

      Where was he? Didn’t people who worked on a ranch quit when the sun went down? It had been dark for hours.

      She slapped a tiny shirt down on the shiny tabletop. “There’s no excuse for the way he walked out on me,” she said to the baby, careful to use a cheerful conversational tone that masked her feelings.

      “Leaving you with a stranger.” Tossing the shirt into the basket, she yanked a faded sleeper out of the small pile.

      She kissed the top of his head. “He didn’t say ten words to me on the way here from the diner.”

      Jolie took a deep breath, trying to relax, then nuzzled the tumble of clean curls on the baby’s crown. “How does he know I can be trusted with you?”

      If he were her little boy she’d never leave him with someone she didn’t know.

      She’d given him his bath, fed him, and he was now ready to be put to bed. Together they had explored the house while she’d waited for her employer to return.

      No matter how busy Griff claimed to be, the man should have been home early enough to spend some time with his son. She knew from her training nothing mattered more than the early bonding between a parent and child.

      That was why she had spent so much time with her cousin’s children when they traveled and left them in the care of their nanny for weeks at a time.

      She assumed this little boy’s mother had already deserted him. If she lived nearby, Jolie reasoned, the ex-wife would be caring for her son. Griff wouldn’t have had to hire Jolie.

      Jolie’s thoughts shifted to the child she held. She was worried about the baby. He was too quiet.

      He didn’t try to crawl, and he didn’t reach for things. He just watched her and clung to her when she picked him up. He didn’t laugh or vocalize in any way.

      Maybe it was because she was a stranger. Tomorrow, when he was used to her, he would probably be more active.

      She glanced around the dining room. Something was not right about the home environment, either. Earlier, as she’d wandered through the house getting acquainted with the place, she’d felt uneasy.

      The wonderful old Victorian was clean and extremely tidy,