The Rancher's Baby Proposal. Barbara Daille White

what time we get there.”

      Yesterday, when she had arrived at the ranch with Sean and the groceries, Reagan had been nowhere to be found. She had given up on the television altogether and spent the hours with the radio and the stack of magazines again. She was already bored and lonely with no one to talk to but a sleeping baby. By the time Reagan came into the house, she had begun wishing she had stopped by the Hitching Post to occupy her time.

      And Reagan certainly didn’t hang around to chat.

      Once he’d taken off his boots, checked on the baby and said good-night to her, he disappeared even more quickly than he had the night before.

      Outside, she had stood for a moment beside her car, looking up at the light in the second-floor window and longing to be a fly on the wall in his shower—or at least to have the pleasure of seeing his silhouette in the window. Then, blushing at her own thoughts, she had gotten into the car and driven away.

      Her gaze hadn’t strayed to the rearview mirror more than a half-dozen times.

      “Well,” Tina said, “I’m glad you made the detour here. We’re so glad to see you—both of you.”

      “You don’t need to sound so excited about it,” Ally told her. “Does she?” she asked the baby as she took off the light blanket she had used to shield him from the midafternoon sun.

      “Why not?” Tina asked. “Sean doesn’t look traumatized by having you near him, the way you said all babies do. Aren’t things going well with Reagan?”

      “That’s your daddy,” Ally explained to the child. Somehow it seemed easier to admit the truth aloud to him than to her own best friend. That’s what frustration did to you. Or maybe humiliation. “You know your daddy, right? So do I. But he doesn’t seem to have a clue who I am.”

      “Have I missed something?” Tina’s cousin Andi entered the room holding her daughter, who, Ally thought, was just over a year old.

      With all the kids around the Hitching Post and all the newborns in town, it was hard to keep track. Only a few months ago, one of their friends from school had even had a set of triplets. Ally gave thanks Reagan had come to town with a single infant. As cooperative as Sean had been so far, one baby at a time was still more than enough for her.

      “I don’t know,” Tina said to her cousin. “I’ve been here for the entire conversation, but I’m not sure what we’re talking about, either.”

      Andi laughed and set her daughter into the playpen in the corner.

      Jed Garland had helped match up quite a few couples over the past year or two, including all three of his granddaughters. Andi, the middle one, was a slim, gorgeous blonde. This should have put three strikes against her in Ally’s book except the woman was so darned nice. And after all the sadness she had faced in her life not long ago, Ally was glad she had found new love with an old flame—which is what they would call Andi’s romance in one of her mama’s daytime television shows. And which was exactly what Ally was trying to do with Reagan.

      Unfortunately, carrying a torch—as Mama would put it—had gotten her nowhere due to lack of encouragement on his part. But why would he do anything to give her hope? He wasn’t carrying a torch for her. And he never had.

      Andi smiled. “It looks like our lessons are paying off. You seem very comfortable around the baby.”

      “It’s hard not to be. He never gives me any trouble.” She shrugged. “Of course, he might just be sizing up the situation. I’ve only been minding him for two days now.” The time seemed to have gone by so quickly when she thought about taking care of the baby, yet so slowly in terms of her progress with Reagan. “Sean just eats and sleeps, and that’s about it.”

      “That’s what they do at this age,” Tina said, looking down at her daughter.

      “It means he’s comfortable with you, too,” Andi said. “In fact, he’s probably getting attached.”

      “Well, I wish some of that comfort and attachment would come from the direction of his daddy.”

      There, she’d said it. And in front of Andi, too. Did she have no shame? But why try to hide how she felt about Reagan now? After the afternoons of Baby 101, her feelings had to have become obvious to Andi—but she surely hoped not to anyone else at the Hitching Post.

      She shook her head. “Reagan’s avoiding me, I think, doing anything he can to stay out of my way. He only comes into the house at the end of the night, right before I leave, to...”

      To go upstairs to strip off his jeans and T-shirt.

      Every day at the hardware store—and almost every day of her life—she saw plenty of men in clothes just like Reagan’s. But worn-out and filthy or not, his clothes had somehow become the sexiest she’d ever seen on a man.

      “Um...hello? Ally?” Tina said. “You’ve got us holding our breath here. Reagan comes into the house to...”

      Startled, she blushed. “Sorry. I was...uh...thinking about Sean’s next bottle. Anyway, Reagan comes in for the night, checks for updates on how the baby is doing and that’s it. I’m dismissed.”

      “He puts in a long day working. He’s probably tired.” Though Andi’s expression and tone were serious, her comments left Ally laughing.

      They also helped her revert to the girl everyone knew best. “Yes, he’s tired. He’s exhausted from having me look at him like he’s tastier than Paz’s sopaipilla cheesecake.”

      “Wow,” Andi said. “That’s a seriously delicious example. If that’s what you compare him to, you must have it bad.”

      “Awful,” she agreed. She looked down at Sean and wiggled his foot. “I shouldn’t even admit this in front of the baby.”

      “Admit what?” Tina asked.

      “His daddy can pretend all he likes that I don’t exist—outside of being his babysitter, that is.” She smiled slowly. “But somehow, I’m going to make the man see I can be much more than that.”

      * * *

      ONLY FRIDAY, AND it had seemed like the longest week of his life.

      Reagan had spent his days riding the small ranch, checking the fence line and boundaries, looking for signs of any predators or other problems. If there was anything that might make a prospective buyer hesitate, he wanted to head that off at the pass.

      He’d spent his evenings in the barn. But even for a man working solo, there was only so much to be done. With no livestock in the stalls, no feed in the bins, no tack or equipment being used on a regular basis, he’d run out of things to sort through and maintain. Run out of reasons to avoid Ally.

      Reluctantly, he turned his steps to the house. He could see the usual back porch and kitchen lights shining, almost calling out to him. He wouldn’t mind an early night for once, a chance to spend time with his son before the baby went to bed. Back home, he’d had more time with Sean than this. But this couldn’t last much longer. Or neither would he.

      All week long, he had fought second thoughts about asking Ally to help him out.

      Sometime during those days, he had begun thinking about asking Ally out.

      And that was crazy.

      Inside the house, he followed the sound of her favorite salsa music to the living room. He found her with a dust cloth in her hand and her back to him, dancing in front of the bookshelves set along the far wall. She had tied a bright red bandanna around her nearly black hair. Big gold hoop earrings, normally half hidden by her curls, dangled close to her cheeks.