Rancher Daddy

“It’s time.” He waited while Holly collected Henry then walked to the door. “Are you going to stay awake through this?” he asked when she tried to smother another yawn.

“I can give you another half hour,” Holly promised. “But then I am going to crash.”

“Thanks, Holly. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Luc reached out and squeezed her shoulder. With Holly on his side, he couldn’t possibly fail to get his son.

Chapter Two (#ulink_1fa50087-4a82-53c3-9f6b-a1aebd5350f7)

“Henry has no home. I don’t see what’s wrong with bringing him to my place to stay until the adoption goes through,” Luc said as he took a seat at her dining table.

Holly watched as the tall, lean rancher gulped down a mouthful of the coffee she’d just poured, disregarding her warning that it was hot. Coughing and sputtering, he raced across the dining room to the kitchen sink and downed a glass of cold water. He made a series of silly faces as he tested his scorched mouth.

She tried but couldn’t quite stifle her laughter at his antics.

“It’s not nice for you to laugh at me, Holly,” he reproved her then added, “Certainly not something the town’s wonder girl would do.”

“Oh, lay off that nonsense,” she said, losing her good mood. “I’m not that wonderful and the town would know that if they really knew me.” Sobered by his words she reminded him, “It’s only been a week since you met Henry and you’re still treating adoption just like that hot coffee. I warned you it was hot just as I warned you it wouldn’t be easy to adopt Henry.”

“I never thought it would be easy.” Luc flopped back down in his chair and stretched out. “I just didn’t think it would be a lesson in fighting bureaucracy.”

“Please keep your boots away from that bag of fabric.” Holly’s warning came a second too late. “This is exactly why I need a sewing room,” she complained in an exasperated tone as she freed a piece of frilly lace from the toe of his boot.

“Sorry. I know I promised I’d work on a sewing room in exchange for your help, Holly. I’ll get to it soon.” He took the lace from her and studied it. “What is this for anyway? A hair bow?” He peered at it then studied her head. “Since when do you wear pink? You hate pink.”

“It’s not a hair bow and it’s not for me,” Holly told him, snatching the delicate lace from his fingers. “I’m going to sew it on a gift I’m making.”

“Another baby gift?” He leaned over to study the fabric pieces lying on the table. “Looks like a jigsaw puzzle but I can tell it’s for a girl. You sure do have a lot of new moms as friends.”

“I deliver babies. It’s my job to know the moms. I like to give them a little gift after their baby’s birth.” Holly flushed and looked away.

Shame on me for fudging the truth.

But how else could she explain without telling him about her online business? And Holly didn’t want to do that. If Luc knew he’d probably pass on the information and soon the whole town would be talking. She couldn’t bear to hear the gossips.

Poor jilted bride. That’s why she makes baby clothes, you know. Because she doesn’t have any children of her own.

If they only knew that she’d once held her own precious child in her arms and then given him away to save her father’s reputation.

Since it was Holly’s week off, Luc had made a habit of stopping by unexpectedly for coffee, ostensibly to discuss the work he did on her ranch. Somehow the conversation always turned to adopting Henry. A couple of times he’d caught her with her work spread all over the dining table. Well, it wasn’t as if she could just scoop everything into a box whenever he appeared.

“I probably shouldn’t have bothered you about this again,” Luc apologized. “But I wondered if you’d given more thought to selling Cool Springs Ranch?”

“Not again.” She rolled her eyes. “Luc, you’ve asked me that a hundred times since Dad died. I told you on Monday that I wasn’t interested in selling any of Dad’s land. Today is Thursday and I’m still not interested.”

“It’s not your dad’s land anymore, Holly,” Luc said in a somber tone. “It’s yours.”

“Yes, but he worked so hard to acquire this land and his herd,” she said softly. “He wanted me to have a birthright.” Which should have gone to his grandson. “I wouldn’t feel right selling off any of it.”

“Okay.” Luc sighed. “But when you do decide, you’ll give me first dibs, right?”

“If and when,” she promised.

“Good enough.” He wrinkled his nose at the brightly striped fabric she was about to cut. “That looks like clown material,” he said then added, “Have you got time to go for a ride?”

“Now?” Holly paused, her scissors frozen in midair. She looked up at him and frowned. This was about the ranch; it had to be important. “What’s wrong?”

“I’d rather show you than explain,” he said. “Then I’ll come back here and you can show me exactly what you want in your sewing room.”

“Fine.” Resigned, Holly put down her scissors and shut off the pattern mill in her brain. If she had a bigger, more private work space, she’d be able to accept more orders and finally pay off the last of the bills leftover from her dad’s illness. It was the only debt she owed him that she could repay. Nothing could ever make up for the love and care he’d showered on her all her life.

Except perhaps the grandson he’d never known.

“Holly?” Luc touched her shoulder. “Would you rather wait?”

“No. Let’s go.” She mentally shook off the past, knowing the guilt would return again later, when she was alone.

“It’s the north quarter. We’ll have to ride.” Luc glanced at her bare feet and raised one eyebrow. “I think you’re going to have to cover those,” he jibed.

Holly glanced down and giggled.

“One of my Sunday school students gave me this polish,” she said, wiggling her toes. “She said her mom thought it was too old for her.”

“It’s too something,” Luc agreed, unable to stifle a laugh.

Holly laughed with him. Luc always had that effect on her, she thought as she pulled on her socks and riding boots. He was a very good friend who coaxed her to enjoy life. She enjoyed having him around.

They took the shortcut to the north pasture, past Luc’s house. Holly slowed to a stop and squinted into the sun below the brim of her hat, waiting until he’d reined in beside her.

“What’s that in your yard, Luc?”

“I’m restoring a truck and needed some parts so I had the garage tow in a couple of wrecks.” He must have seen something in her face because he asked, “Why?”

“You’re still determined to adopt Henry?” she asked, even though she knew he was.

“Of course. Why not?” Luc glanced at the yard then back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think that whoever comes to check out your place will see those old cars and parts as a potential hazard for a kid Henry’s age,” she said gently. “You can still restore your vehicles but maybe not in front of the house.”

“It’s handy when I have a few minutes after dinner,” he explained. “I can walk out the door and work as long as the light’s good, but you’re right. I wouldn’t want Henry poking around where there’s a lot of rust and jagged edges.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, knowing how much he loved to restore vehicles.

“Don’t be.” Luc twisted to look at her, his grin back in place. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I want your help with, Holly.”

“Did you talk to Abby yet?” she asked. “She might have some weight with the government if Henry is in the care of Family Ties. Or even if he’s under other stewardship.”

“Abby told me Henry’s only been in foster care since his brother went to prison, but that he hasn’t been able to settle in anywhere. Apparently he doesn’t like foster care and keeps asking for a forever family.” Luc chuckled. “His case worker in Calgary was relieved Abby agreed to temporarily oversee his care while he’s staying with Hilda Vermeer.”

“He’s still there, even though she snores?” Holly asked, tongue in cheek.