Cowboy Daddy. Angel Smits

It all got in between.

      Then Mom had died.

      That night seemed so very long ago, yet the pain of losing her mother was as real as yesterday. Closing her eyes, she imagined the warm comfort of Lane’s arms.

      It had been as if nothing had changed since high school. The heat was back, strong and intense. She’d thought—foolishly—that he’d felt the same, but she’d been wrong and had no idea what to do about it now.

      Forcing her mind from that pain, Amanda wandered to Wyatt’s overloaded desk and her fingers itched. How did he stand this mess? And how could he possibly know if he had everything done—and correctly?

      She glanced at the mantel clock. Lucas had just fallen asleep. She had at least a couple of hours before he needed to be fed again, and Wyatt was gone for the rest of the day.

      Feeling a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in months, since she’d found out about the baby and gotten so caught up and worried about her future as a single mom, she scooted behind the massive desk and sat down on the thick leather chair. It groaned softly, as if to say, “Who are you? I don’t recognize your backside.”

      She was surprised to find two more stacks of papers on the floor at her feet. Was Wyatt crazy? But there was no other place to put them, so they’d have to stay where they were.

      After getting her bearings at the desk, she took a look around the room. Hidden behind the open French door was a tall file cabinet. Dread had her opening the top drawer slowly, and then the resulting relief made her laugh out loud. The top two drawers had a few files but were otherwise empty. The whole thing rattled, and sure enough when she opened the bottom two drawers they were empty.

      Unfortunately, the cabinet didn’t even have the tools to put everything in order. A little more rummaging and she found a blank notepad and a working pen.

      She started a list of office supplies to have Chet pick up on his next run into town. Wyatt might see her as the pesky little sister, but she needed something to do to earn her keep around here, and Wyatt definitely needed an assistant. This was going to work—it was a win-win.

      Sitting back in the chair, she swiveled around to gaze out at the yard and ranchland beyond the wraparound porch. She couldn’t believe this amazing view didn’t distract Wyatt. The pretty green color of the land and the trees that were eons old, the hills and valleys beyond.

      Horses and cattle dotted the grasses in the distance. The silhouettes of the men at work were distant, yet from here she knew exactly which one was Lane’s. He sat taller in the saddle than the others.

      She didn’t know how long she watched them, fascinated by the rhythm of their work and the cohesiveness of their movements. When one small calf took off across the thick grasses, Lane was there, low over Midnight’s neck to steer the little one back to its mama and the rest of the herd. And then the whole lot of them were gone over the ridge, the cloud of dust sent up by all the hooves the only sign they had ever been there.

      Why had a sense of loneliness slipped over her? Damn Lane. Though she saw him every day at meals and like this, across the ranch, she didn’t feel as though he was really here. Was that how he wanted her to feel?

      The sound of a tiny whimper came from down the hall. She glanced at the clock, surprised that the afternoon was nearly gone. Juanita would be here soon to set up dinner. Thankful for a reprieve from her thoughts, she shut everything down for the day. She had tomorrow to look forward to.

      And a son to feed. She smiled. She had Lucas. And though she probably still shouldn’t lift, she couldn’t resist carefully picking up her baby boy. As she passed the flight of stairs that led to the second floor, she cringed. Her doctor had given her the okay to climb stairs, but she’d try those later. Much later.

      Not surprisingly, Juanita came in just as Amanda settled in the wooden captain’s chair with Lucas in her arms, a bottle to his greedy little lips.

      “My, he’s hungry today.” Juanita leaned in to softly stroke the baby’s head. “You going to keep me company while I work?”

      “I’ll help if I can.”

      “Just enjoy your little one and we can chat.” Juanita pulled off her jacket and hung it by the door before launching into stories of her own four boys, now grown and out of the house.

      An hour later, Lucas was in his baby swing, watching the world with a newborn’s curiosity while Amanda helped Juanita dish up all the food. Heavy pounding footsteps sounded on the back porch and Amanda’s pulse jumped. She should be pleased that Lane barely noticed her these days. It would make leaving easier when the time came.

      Amanda wasn’t watching for Lane. Really, she wasn’t. But when he came in, it was as if the rest of the world receded. Their eyes met and his gaze held hers, almost too long.

      He looked dirty, tired and as good as ever. She hastily tore away her gaze and went back to helping Juanita. If she didn’t, she was afraid what the others would think or do or say.

      His private rejection was bad enough. She couldn’t face a public one.

      * * *