Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“ I don’t like it!” Noah screamed, throwing the bowl of oatmeal across the kitchen. It landed with a thwack —which meant Trey had at least learned to stop giving the little shit glass dishes to throw.
“Then starve.”
A soft sound started up a sniffle that told him that Zoe was about to start wailing. God, his head hurt.
“Do you want some, baby girl?”
“Da?”
He found her a smile. “Yep. I have more for you.”
She made grabby fingers.
“Let me get you some.” He was going to ignore Noah until he could not shout.
“Da! Da da da!” She wiggled, her laugh ringing out. “Luff!”
“I love you too, baby girl.” He’d pulled her oats out to cool, and he tilted his head, searching for a spot in his vision to make sure he had a little spoon in there already.
“I don’t love you!” Noah snarled.
He didn’t rise to the bait, reminding himself that the little boy was hurting and needing someone to lash out at. His mom was dead, and he was with what amounted to a neighbor.
“That’s okay. I love you one way or the other.”
“No!” Noah tossed something else, but he had no idea what it was. He really needed to hire a new housekeeper, but his heart hadn’t been in it, and Noah might just freak out even more.
“You don’t get to tell me how to feel, man. Sorry. Like I just said, I get to love you. How I feel is up to me.” He wasn’t going to lose his shit. No way. “School’s going to start here in two weeks. We’ll need to go buy supplies.”
“I don’t want to go to school!” Noah screamed it, and now he was in full bore meltdown, his little face red, his breathing heading right toward hyperventilating.
The therapist said to stay calm, and God help him, Trey was trying.
He understood why Kaitlyn had asked him to adopt the babies. He knew. These babies were Blantons now, and they were set.
He wasn’t made for this, though. He needed a nanny.
First he needed a foreman.
A new housekeeper.
Help.
He needed help, and so did these babies.
A knock sounded at the kitchen door, and he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. If it was one of the hands needing something, he was going to stroke right out.
“Come in!” he called. “Watch the oatmeal.”
He would have to get the dogs to come in and clean up. Then he’d mop.
The door opened, and for a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. It happened sometimes. He saw faces once in a while, ones that weren’t there.
But this one was attached to a body and a cowboy hat.
“Can I help you?” Say something? Please? He managed to get Zoe her oatmeal.
“I sure hope so, Trey. I’m supposed to start my job here today, or so I hear.”
His head tilted, and he closed his right eye, searching for clarity with the left. “West? West, is that you?”
“Yessir, it is. I was going to wait to check in with you, but it sounded like you might need a hand in here.”
“STRANGER! STRANGER! HELP ME! HELP ME!”
“Noah Christopher, I swear to God!” he snapped. He didn’t need this.
Zoe began to sob like her baby heart would break.
“Hey, now, little bit. It’s okay.” West moved closer. “You want me to feed her or deal with the boy child?”
“I—” He didn’t know. He was going to lose it.
“I HATE YOU! YOU SUCK!”
West made a sound, a sort of a hmph , and then Noah went quiet. He hoped to God the man hadn’t touched Noah, who would freak out, but when he squinted, West was just standing in front of the kid, hands on his hips.
Noah hiccupped, crying and trying hard to hide it.
“I thought so. I reckon you can go to your room, Mr. Noah. I need to talk to Mr. Blanton, here.”
Noah ran off, feet slapping on the floor, and Zoe held onto him, crying hard.
“Shh…shh, baby girl. Brother’s just having a hard day, that’s all.” She didn’t remember Kaitlyn, but Noah sure did, and it was hard.
“You can take him a snack in a minute and make me the bad guy if you need to,” West said. “Who’s this little beauty. Huh? She sure is pretty.”
“This is my Zoe. She’s my sweetest little girl.” He loved both kids with all his heart, but Zoe made it easy.
“Hi, Zoe. Hi. I’m West.” West grinned for Zoe, close enough now that he could see the tanned face, the wide smile.
She waved, sniffling, clinging to him like a little monkey.
“You are a cutie, huh? Can I tell you a secret?”
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“Your brother is so mad at the world right now. And he wants to just yell and yell. But he’s not really mad at you or your—” West looked toward him.
“Da,” Zoe said, with all the confidence in the world.
“Right. Your da.” West straightened up. “I’ll mop up that oatmeal while you feed her.”
“Thank you. You don’t have to. I—were you in town or something?” Why are you here?
“Mal called.” West grabbed a dishcloth and started mopping.
“Oh?” Fucking traitor. “What did she want?”
“She said she was hiring you a foreman. So here I am.”
What? “She—I—That’s a surprise. She didn’t tell me.”
And she was going to get an earful once he fed Zoe, dealt with Noah, and got West out of his house.
“Says you’ve been a bit busy, man.” West rinsed off the dishcloth. “You got a real mop?”
“I do. In the closet there.” He motioned toward where he hoped the pantry closet was.
“Got it.” West was always inhumanly efficient. And a damn island, able to do anything on his own.
He was too, dammit.
He was independent.
Brave.
Not terrified.
“Da…” Zoe hiccupped.
“Sorry, love. Let’s get you fed.”
“Hungy. Da. Hold you?”
“After food, of course.”
He fed Zoe, trying to ignore the sounds of West moving around. To ignore West’s scent, which was soap and Old Spice and man. He could smell it so clearly.
Zoe ate pretty well, and he helped her down out of her high chair, trying hard not to freak out.
“Da! Hold you.” She tugged at his jeans.
“Sure, honey.” He wondered if he should go take Noah a Pop-Tart.
He picked her up, put her on his hip. He didn’t know what to do. He wished someone was here to help. He wished Kaitlyn was here to help.
“All cleaned up. What else do you need me to do, man?” West asked.
“I— Would you like a cup of coffee? You caught me flat-footed.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, but Mal said I should just report for duty. You want me to refill your cup?” West pulled a cup out of the dishwasher, he thought.
“I…I need to check on my son. Do you mind, and I’ll be right back.”
“Not one bit, Trey.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then headed toward Noah’s room. He would put Zoe in her little play area for a minute.
She went down, sweet as pie, going to play with her babies, and he headed to Noah’s room.
Noah was face down on his bed, arms spread, sobbing his little heart out. Drama. Llama. Not that he would ever say that aloud.
He went to sit on the bed, and Noah was in his arms in a split second, holding on tight, wetting his shirt. He rocked the little boy, just giving him all the care he needed.
He didn’t talk too much besides a few shhhs and, “I-got-yous,” because talking always got them in trouble. Poor Noah was hurting and confused and so tired.
Trey totally got it.
They were mourning, and fury came with that.
“I’m sorry. I’m hungry.”
“I know you are, kiddo. But thank you for coming in and calming down.” He stroked Noah’s back. “What do you want?”
“Is there still oats? With peach?”
“There is. Come on. Mr. West is still here, so that he doesn’t surprise you.”
“Is he mean?”
“No, kiddo. He’s just a cowboy. You know how they are.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There you go. Come on. I’ll get your oats.” He stood, feeling at least twenty thousand years old.
Maybe twenty thousand and one.
“Okay.” Noah’s hand slipped into his, and they walked back to the kitchen together.
“Come sit. I’ll get your food.” Was West still here?
Noah nodded, his face all tear-stained. Then he heard Zoe giggling, and he peered into the family room, seeing West on the floor with her. Or at least a West-shaped thing.
“How you doing, baby girl?”
“Play wif man!”
“Good deal.” He got the bowl, managed to put the oatmeal and peaches in, and get it to Noah without disaster.
Noah ate quietly, and he wasn’t sure what to do next.
“I washed up pretty much. I can empty the dishwasher if you can tell me where sh-stuff goes,” West said.
“Thank you, but we should have a coffee and talk. It’s been…a long time.” That was an understatement and a half.
“It has. And I need to know what all is going on here at the ranch. Since my predecessor has gone.”
“Yeah. He was a…” He pursed his lips. Ron had been a lying fucker, stealing semen and denying it when he’d gotten caught.
His cowboys had his back, thank God. They’d stayed loyal to him instead of letting Ron have a free pass.
“That bad, huh? Not just a quitter but a, uh—” West stopped, and he knew it was the kids keeping him from saying “fucker”.
“Yeah. I—I know that seeing me again probably wasn’t on your bingo card, but the ranch… it needs help.”
“So do you right now, huh? I’m sorry about their mom, Trey.” West put a hand on his shoulder, just for a second.
“Yeah. She was a good woman. Really good. One of my best friends.” And he missed her.
More than that, he wasn’t sure he was cut out for all this. He wasn’t certain it was fair to the kids to saddle them with a guy who was losing his sight as their dad. It was…
He sighed.
“Stop. Breathe. I’m not sorry to be here. You know I was made for this sort of work.”
“Yeah. You are a cowboy, through and through.”
“I am that.” West’s tone was gently amused, he thought.
“So, did Mal show you your house and all? Did you just pull up?”
“I just pulled in. I haven’t seen Mal. I uh—” West paused, glancing Noah’s way, he thought. “I heard.”
“Ah. Well, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.” He couldn’t believe this. How had he ended up in this situation?
“Thanks, man. I’m happy to have the job.”
“Yeah? Cool.” How awkward and fucking weird was this? “God knows we need someone in the position who is interested and qualified.”
“Yeah. Mal said you went through two or three in fast succession.” West touched his arm again. “I ain’t here to make trouble.”
“I did. I need someone who wants to love the land. You know me. I’m not a cowboy. I’m a computer guy with money, but I inherited, and I have babies to leave it to. I will do right by it.” It was the only thing he knew to do.
Giving it away. Selling it. None of that would work. This was Blanton land, dammit.
“I know it, hon— Trey. I do. You’ve always said you’d keep it if something happened.”
He could hear Noah’s spoon hitting the bowl, and he could see Noah eating out of the corner of his eye, but if he looked dead-on, it was all spots. It was maddening.
The doctor assured him he would get used to it, but every time he did, it got worse. So he just did what he could. Which was starting to feel like less and less, dammit.
Zoe gave a little cry, and West peeled away. “Let me get her.”
“I—” Was he supposed to say thank you? He guessed so, but he was so tired, so worn.
He leaned on the counter, trying not to doze off.
“Hey!” He started violently when Mal breezed through the back door. “I saw West’s truck.”
“Hey, Mal. I’m loving on this baby girl.” West’s voice felt like satin against his ear.
“Well, she’s a lover, huh, Zoe? Hey, you. Hi, Noah.”
“Hello, Miz Mal.”
Mal came to hug him. “I thought I would drop in and chat with West.”
“You could have warned me,” he whispered. This was a bullshit move on her part.
“I didn’t have time.” She patted his shoulder. “But it will be fine.”
“God, I hope so.” He felt as if everything was slipping through his fingers.
“It will. Not easy. But fine.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, let me see that Zoe. I want to kiss her face.”
“Yes, ma’am,” West said.
“Mal!” Zoe’s happy cry filled the air. “My Mal!”
“Hello, sweetpea. How are you today?” Mal danced Zoe about, her boots sliding audibly.
“Good. Go horsey?”
“Maybe in a little bit, sure.”
“Okay.” Zoe beamed.
Noah coughed.
“Hi, Noah! I didn’t want to interrupt your brekkie. How’s it going, my dude?”
“I threw my food this morning, but I’m better now.”
“Oh, good. Sometimes things get hard, huh?” Mal was just unflappable, and she loved kids.
“Uh-huh.”
“Did I tell you I was going to have a baby?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Have you met Mr. West?”
Noah paused, his breath hitching. “Uh-huh.”
“He’s going to be the foreman. He’s a good guy, okay? Like a really good man.”
“He’s scary.”
Trey shook his head. “I promise. I’ve known Mr. West since college. He’s not scary.”
“He stared at me.”
“That was because I wasn’t gonna yell at anyone, kiddo.” That was West. “But you were having a bit of a problem.”
“I was mad.”
“You were, but it’s better now, yeah?” Trey couldn’t deal with another tantrum yet.
“Uh-huh. I’m sorry.” Noah had already apologized, but the fact that he did it in front of West and Mal meant something.
“No worries!” Mal always sounded as if she was about filled to the brim with pure happiness.
“So.” West’s voice washed over him, that sweet-as-honey baritone so familiar and yet so wildly new now too. “What else do you need before I run off with Mal, Trey?”
A hug.
“Nothing. We’re solid. We’re going to watch TV for a while.” They did that a lot.
He needed a hug and a shot of good whiskey.
He sure hoped five o’clock would come early tonight.
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with him?
Trey chuckled at himself. He knew the answer to that, didn’t he? He was a bullshit owner of a huge ranch, an incapable adoptive father of two children who weren’t his, and he was sitting there with the one that got away because his best friend Mal had what?
Felt sorry for him?
“Trey?” A solid, hot hand landed on his shoulder, and he damn near jumped out of his skin. He’d been in his own head—hell, he lived there most of the time, didn’t he?—and he’d forgotten that Mal and West hadn’t left.
Motherfucker.
“Sorry. Sorry, did you need something?” He realized all of the sudden that he didn’t know where Zoe was, that he was totally out of sync with things, and he was fixin’ to have a meltdown in the worst way.
“You want to come sit for a second. You’re awful pale.”
“Not enough time in the Mexican Riviera, I’m sure,” he teased. “I just need to hire a nanny. Someone to help with the day-to-day sh-stuff.”
A nanny.
A housekeeper.
At least one of the drovers kept the cactus and goatheads out of the yard, so the kids could play out there, right?
He rolled his eyes at himself, and Mal chuckled sweet and soft.
“Yeah, I’m not suited to that, and there’s not many women who want to come out here, deal with the solitude and all. You need a manny. Someone who wants to marry you for your big…” She stopped, her voice dropping. “Bank account.”
“Don’t make me kill you because I could. It could happen.”
It was kind of an empty threat, though. It was flat-out unfair, but Mallory was unaffected by any threats. And she was convinced all of this was going to work out, given enough time. He just wished he could be as confident.
“You just need to not worry for a little while. You’re letting yourself get all het up, and for what? That’s not gonna fix anything.”
“Mal, what did I tell you about using logic? I don’t need this nonsense.” His tone was sharper than he meant it to be.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I’ll get you set up with the kids and the TV. I’m going to show West the house, give him a rundown of everything, and get him started in the office. He’s got to start getting this paperwork done. It’s only reasonable. Then once all that’s done, I’ll come over, get y’all, and we’ll have some lunch together. Fair?”
It was more than fair, and he knew it. “Yeah, I’m going to have that service see if they can’t set up some kind of a housekeeper situation for me. I’ll work on that while the kids are watching TV.” He could do that.
Mal clapped him on the arm. “Good deal. You keep it together, cowboy.”
He wasn’t a cowboy.
He wasn’t even close. He was a rich dude with money. A big ranch. And eyes that sucked.
Still. He guessed there had been worse.
“Don’t worry about me. I got this.” He wasn’t gonna look like an asshole. Not in front of West, not in front of Mal, and he sure as hell was not going to do it in front of his kids. “I’ll see you at lunchtime. We’ll have a chat.”
They could all have a chat. They’d eat lunch, and he’d hire himself a housekeeper and a nanny.
He wasn’t going to think about how he was now the boss of the guy who, once upon a time, he’d offered the entire goddamn world to.
West could have had this.
All of it.
No question.
Trey figured he was supposed to be tickled about that or some such. He should feel like he’d gotten the upper hand. Instead, what he felt was sad and tired.
Like maybe like God hated him a little bit.
Like here—you can have this piece of land, this glorious ranch you don’t know how to run. These beautiful kids you’re not going to be able to see grow up. As a bonus, here’s the man you always wanted. Your one and only. Your ride or die. Except that, he’s not your lover, he’s your employee.
Christ, this wasn’t fair.
He knew one day he was gonna have to stop thinking that. Today wasn’t that day.
Not today, Satan.