The Bull Rider's Baby. Brenda Minton

       “You know what I mean, Sophie. You bought the one hundred that joins up with the twenty I bought. A corporation bought the land on the other side of the road.”

       “So you’re here to buy back West land?”

       “That’s why I’m here. That farm meant everything to my granddad, even to my dad, before…”

       Yeah, before. She looked away, thought about hollow expressions, loss, giving up. The Wests had sold out to the Parkers, and then the Parkers had split the land up, sold it and moved to Kansas last year.

       “Soph, I want to buy it back.”

       “Keeton, I don’t have time to talk.”

       He leaned in, holding the baby that still hadn’t been changed. She cuddled against his shoulder, crying as he tried to continue the conversation. “We need to talk.”

       The stench of the messy, wet baby proved to be more than Sophie could take. She shook her head and moved to get out of the car. Keeton backed up, his words drifting off as she reached for the baby. “We have to change her before we continue this conversation.”

       “I can manage.”

       She took the baby from him and placed her on the backseat of the car. “Give me a diaper. And you’d better have plenty of wipes. And hand sanitizer.” She gagged a little just thinking about what was waiting for her.

       Keeton handed her a diaper and wipes. And then he had the nerve to step back. She tossed him a meaningful look over her shoulder. “Get back here. I’m not doing this alone. You never send a man, or woman, in alone.”

       “Right.” She heard him take a deep breath and he stepped close.

       The diaper was every bit as bad as she imagined. Worse even. After taking it off and cleaning the baby with wipes, she handed Keeton the offending item. He gasped as she shoved it into his hand.

       “Don’t think you get out of this completely.” She smiled over her shoulder at him before turning her attention back to the task at hand.

       Keeton took another deep breath and hurried toward the trash. Sophie smiled at the baby. Lucy, blue-eyed and beautiful, smiled back. Sophie lost her heart. And it had been a long time since she’d done that. So long, in fact, she almost expected it to hurt. The heart was, after all, a muscle. She figured hers might be close to atrophy from lack of use.

       But she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. She also wouldn’t admit that she’d been telling God about her loneliness, thinking maybe He could show her a glimpse of His plan.

       “Thanks.” Keeton grabbed a few wipes as she taped a new diaper in place. “For your hands. It’s the best I can do.”

       She took the wipes and handed him the clean baby. Clean wasn’t really the best word. She needed a bath. Badly.

       “I’d take her home and bathe her if I were you.”

       Keeton looked down at his little girl. “Bathe her?”

       “Yes, with water and soap. It’s a funny little custom most people enjoy daily.”

       “Not funny. I don’t know how to bathe a baby.”

       “You’ll figure it out. And you should run into Grove and get medicine for her fever. Maybe take her to urgent care. She does feel warm.”

       “Great, a sick baby.”

       “Probably just a virus. She’ll be fine. So will you.” She smiled at the sight of him holding the baby. “Daddy.”

       “Daddy.” He looked down at his daughter, his expression downright wistful and a little confused. “I have a kid.”

       “Looks that way.”

       And then wistful disappeared, replaced by a look of total shock. “What am I going to do with her?”

       “I’d say the same thing parents have done with babies for hundreds of years. Take her home and raise her.”

       “I’m a bull rider. I’m on the road almost half my life. I’m living in a crash pad, not a home.”

       Bull rider. That reminder had her getting back in her car, away from him, away from the tug on her heart and back into her shell. “Yes, well, I’d say you’d better make some improvements.”

       “You could help me.”

       “I did. I changed the nastiest diaper in the history of diapers.”

       “Seriously, Soph, I need help.”

       He sighed and her resolve to be strong, to not get involved, got a little weak in the knees. Not for Keeton, but the baby. “I’ll be around if you have a problem. I live in the old stone house, just a half mile from you.”

       “Right, thanks. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the land. We need to talk.”

       “Later.” She had slid behind the wheel of her car and now she glanced at her watch. She hated being late. She had five minutes to get to Grove for a meeting with a contractor.

       “Dinner?” He leaned in, holding tight to Lucy.

       “Nope. I don’t date bull riders.” She started her car and reached to close the door. He stood there, not moving as she’d given the indication he should do.

       “I’m not asking you out. I meant we could talk business over dinner.”

       Ouch. That hurt a little for some crazy reason. “Good to know, but I’m not accepting.”

       “Fine, I’ll see you later. But we are going to talk about my land.”

       “My land.” She backed out of the parking space. She had her own land. It wasn’t Cooper land. She’d saved money left in a trust from her grandparents. She’d saved residual income from her allotted fifty acres and the few oil wells still pumping. She had her own space in the world. Her own land.

       Her own life that no one else was involved in. Unfortunately her land used to be West land. What had seemed like a great idea months ago now felt like a giant headache about to happen. Or heartache.

       After years of being gone, she hadn’t expected Keeton to suddenly show up back in Dawson.

       As she pulled out of the parking lot she glanced in the direction of Keeton’s truck. He stood next to it, strapping Lucy into an infant seat. Seeing her glance his way, he waved and then turned toward Lucy.

       Kade’s brother. A bull rider. The last person she wanted in her life.

      Chapter Two

      Keeton lugged the infant car seat into the ramshackle house that he now called home. It had electricity, running water and little else to recommend it. The porch sagged in places and a few boards were missing. The living room was long and narrow with only two windows and floors that creaked when he walked across them. He put the baby down on the sofa he’d hauled in a few days ago.

       She had fallen asleep halfway home, after sucking down a bottle, burping loudly and then fussing with hiccups for a few minutes. If she’d stay asleep he could carry in groceries and baby stuff he’d bought in Grove.

       For a second she fussed and he wondered if she’d wake up. But he remembered something he’d seen women at church do. He rocked the little seat, slow and easy. Lucy cuddled down into the blanket he’d gotten her and sucked on the pacifier.

       “Yeah, that’s right, I’m a pro at this. Now, don’t wake up.” He eased toward the door, avoiding spots on the hardwood floors that he knew were prone to creak.

       When he got to the truck he could hear work going on at the construction site across the road. It looked as though some houses were going up on the fifty acres. He shrugged because it wasn’t his land, just land he’d thought he might be able to buy.