The State of Parenthood

Chapter Two

“We’re fully staffed. The only bunkhouse with an empty bed in it right now is fourteen.” Natalie talked as she maneuvered the electric golf cart with practiced ease.

Aaron gritted his teeth and held on to the seat edge as they took yet another sharp turn on an uneven, tree-lined dirt road that was more of a trail than anything else. “Fourteen’s my lucky number.”

She chuckled. “You say that now.”

“Why are you laughing?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to cast her a suspicious glance. “What’s wrong with the bunkhouse?”

“Nothing.” Her grin widened. “It’s your bunkmates.”

“I’ll manage. I’ve shared quarters with some real winners in the past. It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Good. You’ll have the necessary experience to draw on.” She turned her wide and, he admitted, dazzling grin on him.

It was contagious, and Aaron couldn’t resist responding. He was suddenly looking forward to meeting his bunkmates. Life, he realized, had become mundane. Today was the most enjoyment he’d had in he couldn’t remember when.

Natalie had left her baby back at the lodge in the care of a young teenage girl named Briana. Jake’s oldest and, Aaron supposed, his niece by marriage. She’d heard about him—nothing good, based on the wary once-over she gave him. He liked her anyway because she obviously adored Natalie’s baby and couldn’t wait to swing the infant up in her arms.

“Here we are.” Natalie brought the golf cart to a stop in front of a simple, yet well-maintained, bunkhouse. It was the third in a sizable row of bunkhouses, all alike except for the angle at which they were tucked into the hill.

Aaron climbed out of the golf cart and retrieved his duffel bag from the back. He and Natalie had stopped first at the stables before coming here. Aaron checked on his horse, Dollar, and then grabbed his stuff. He traveled light. Another holdover from his former career.

“A laptop?” Natalie asked, eyeing the black computer case he slung over his shoulder.

He purposely didn’t tell her why he’d brought it. “Is there a phone line in the bunkhouse?”

“No. But the ranch has a wireless connection in the main lodge. It’s for the convenience of our guests, but the staff use it, too.”

“Thanks.”

She kept staring at the laptop, though she asked no more questions about it. “The dining hall is to the east of the main lodge. The building with the picnic tables out front and the big outdoor fireplace. You have about an hour and a half before dinner.”

What had been a four-minute golf-cart ride would be a fifteen-minute walk. Aaron checked his watch. He had plenty of time to shower and clean up before meeting his coworkers at dinner. Or, was that employees since he technically owned one-eighth of the ranch?

Better to come off as a coworker, he decided, if he wished to fit in and make friends with the staff. Aaron had a reason to be here, and it wasn’t to show anyone who was boss. He’d leave that to Jake.

“See you at dinner,” Natalie said and drove off.

Something else for Aaron to look forward to, he thought, watching her putt-putt down the road.

Only after she disappeared from sight did he turn and walk up the steep path to the bunkhouse. At the door, he set down his duffel bag and tried the knob. The hinges squeaked when he opened the unlocked door, announcing his arrival.

“Anyone home?”

No one answered so he went inside.

The bunkhouse was small, yet comfortable. A two-person breakfast bar separated the galley kitchen from the living room. Three rooms led off a short hallway; two bedrooms and a bathroom the size of a large closet. Furniture was sparse. Each bedroom contained a set of twin beds and a single dresser.

Both rooms were occupied, as evidenced by shoes left in the middle of the floor and toiletries on the dresser tops. Aaron opted to wait and see which bed was available before stowing his things. Taking some clean clothes from his duffel bag, he hit the shower. He met two of his bunkmates when he finished a short time later.

“Hey,” a guy with a scruffy goatee greeted him from the kitchen. He was wearing a tan shirt and matching pants. “How’s it going?”

He appeared neither surprised nor annoyed to find a stranger using his bathroom. The same could be said for the guy on the couch, who wore an identical uniform and was stretched out with his feet propped up on a thrift-store-style coffee table, listening to his iPod.

“Want one?” The guy in the kitchen held up a beer.

“No, thanks.”

“Can’t drink alcohol anywhere but inside your bunkhouse,” the guy told Aaron before tipping back his longneck bottle and taking a lengthy pull. “They’re real strict about that. If a guest sees you drinking, you’ll be fired on the spot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Aaron unzipped his duffel bag and removed a plastic sack. He added dirty clothes to his growing pile. “Is there a laundry around here?”

“Behind the dining hall.” The guy hitched his chin as if the laundry were right across the road rather than a good mile up it. “By the way, I’m Randy. That there is Skunk.”

“Skunk?”

Randy shook his head. “Don’t ask. You’ll just make him mad.”

If Skunk knew they were talking about him he gave no indication. Head resting on the back of the couch, he listened to his iPod with closed eyes. He might have been napping except for the beer he raised to his lips every other minute like clockwork.

“I’m Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you.” Randy toasted him. “Where you from?”

“Laveen, originally,” he answered, naming the small rural community southeast of Phoenix where he was born and raised. “I’ve been traveling a lot since I graduated high school.”

“Yeah, haven’t we all.”

“Which bed is mine?” Aaron didn’t suppose either of these two would make a bad roommate. Randy appeared agreeable enough and Skunk was quiet.

A slow smile spread across Randy’s face. “Me and Skunk got the room to the right.”

“Who’s in the bedroom to the left?”

Randy’s smile expanded until it stretched from ear to ear. “Terrence.” He said the name with both reverence and amusement.

Aaron got the distinct impression he was the brunt of some joke only Randy was in on. He decided to go along with it for now. Nothing wrong with a little sport among friends.

“What do you and Skunk do on the ranch?” he asked.

“Skunk’s with maintenance, and I’m with groundskeeping. He keeps the rental ATVs running for the guests. I pick up their litter.” Randy took another swig of his beer. “It’s not such a bad living I reckon. What about you?”

“Ranch hand, I think. I’m supposed to report to Gary Forrester in the morning.”

“You’ll be working with Terrence then.” Randy’s smile became ridiculously large.

Aaron began to suspect he was in for a real treat when he met this Terrence, and not a good one. He was just getting the rundown on the community tipping pool when a heavy thumping sounded from the porch.

Randy shot out from behind the breakfast bar. “Terrence is home.”

Skunk opened his eyes and removed his headphones, letting them fall onto his lap.

Whoever this Terrence was, he commanded a lot of attention.

The door flew open. A tall, broad, dark figure stopped and stood, filling every inch of the open space. Arms ripped with muscles extended from a sleeveless work shirt. Boots—size thirteen at least—stepped over the threshold and came down with a hard clunk on the bare floor, the spurs jangling. A rattlesnake tattoo wound around a thick, corded neck.

Aaron swallowed, admittedly intimidated. He’d met cowboys who looked more like homeboys, but never a cowgirl.

“Hi, Terrence,” Randy chirped. “Meet your new roomie.”

She stared at Randy as if she might eat him alive for breakfast. “My name ain’t Terrence. It’s Teresa.” She enunciated each syllable while pointing a finger at him with the same aggression some people raised a fist. “And you morons better start calling me that.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Teresa.” Aaron considered shaking her hand but decided she might inadvertently crush his fingers.

“I don’t room with no one.” She glared at him. “That was the agreement when I took this job.”

“Guess the agreement’s changed.” Randy burst into laughter. So did Skunk. They both shut up when Teresa fixed her glare on them.

“We’ll just see what Natalie has to say about this.”

“Why don’t I sleep on the couch,” Aaron suggested.

“Good idea.” Teresa removed her hat and sailed it across the room. It landed on the coffee table, inches from Skunk’s feet. She wiped her damp forehead and patted her many rows of tight braids, woven with beads of all colors. “I’m taking a shower. Anyone who steps foot in the bathroom is a dead man.”

No one so much as blinked.

“She seems personable,” Aaron said when she’d gone into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

When Randy and Skunk broke into more laughter, Aaron joined them. His good mood lasted up until dinner when everyone in the dining hall turned to stare when he and his bunkmates walked in.

“What gives?” Randy asked, checking out all the gawking faces.

“There’s something I didn’t mention,” Aaron said, wondering if their friendly treatment of him would change after he told them who he really was.

“SO, WHAT’S HE LIKE?” Natalie’s mother, Deana, asked in a whisper that somehow managed to carry over the noisy din of the crowded dining hall.

There were twenty-nine employees currently on the Bear Creek Ranch payroll. By Natalie’s estimation, each and every one of them was there, eating dinner and staying long after they’d finished for another look at Aaron Reyes. Her mother was no exception, sneaking less than discreet glances his way every few seconds.

“Seems pleasant enough,” her father said. He was one of the only people there more concerned with eating his apple pie than Aaron Reyes’s unexpected appearance on the ranch.

“Very pleasant,” Natalie concurred, shaking a rattle in front of Shiloh’s face.

She’d put the baby in a carrier, one that doubled as a car seat, and secured it on the chair beside her. Shiloh had been restless most of the dinner and was getting fussier by the minute. Probably a reaction to the nervous energy abounding in the room, so different from the usual staff meals where everyone joked and told stories and decompressed after a hard day of work.

Meals were served family style at the ranch. Everyone dined at long tables holding twelve to fourteen people, and enjoyed simple, country fare. After the start of the new season, the staff, with the exception of the ranch hands and trail guides, would take their meals an hour earlier than the guests and eat either in the kitchen or outside beneath the ramada. Until then, they all ate together in the dining hall.

“Pleasant? That’s all you have to say?” Deana threw Aaron Reyes another sidelong glance.

“Polite,” Natalie added.

“Right sociable,” her father said.

“Likes kids.”

“Likes kids?” Deana looked inquisitively at Natalie. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” Natalie backpedaled. “Just a feeling.” Because he’d complimented Shiloh? Not much to go on, really. “What I mean is he doesn’t dislike kids.” That remark earned her an eye roll from her mother. Shut up, she told herself, while you can still save face.

Natalie’s father came to her rescue. “He knows a lot about horses.”

“Well, he should,” Deana said with a huff. “He was national bronc-riding champion for three straight years. Saddle and bareback.”

Only half listening, Natalie put the rattle in Shiloh’s pudgy hand. The baby immediately thrust the rattle into her mouth and began gnawing on it, freeing Natalie to drink her coffee and eat her pie.

“He’s a fine-looking man.”

Natalie hoped her lack of response would bring about a change of topic. Her efforts were in vain.

“I’ll say. He’s hot,” Alice Gilbert added. She sat directly across from Natalie and had been watching Aaron along with her mother. “Did you see him in those magazine ads? Whew! Made me want to buy vet supplies and I don’t even own a horse.”

“And what about that cable-TV show he was on for a while?” Deana elbowed Natalie’s father. “You used to watch it.”

“Rodeo Week in Review,” he mumbled.

“That’s it.” Deana quit trying to be subtle and openly studied Aaron. “No one could blame Hailey falling for him. How much younger than her was he?” She answered her own question before someone else could. “Four years, right? No, five. Which, of course, is no big deal these days.”

Natalie remembered the age difference really bothering Jake. But then, everything about his little sister’s marriage bothered him.

“How much money do you think he has?”

“Mom!”

“Did you see that silver belt buckle he’s wearing? The thing has to be worth a couple thousand dollars. I bet he has a whole drawer full of them.”

“His truck isn’t worth much more than that belt buckle,” Natalie’s father commented. “Whatever money he made rodeoing must be spent.”

“If he ever made any money at it to begin with,” Alice added with a knowing look. “I heard Jake say once that Aaron Reyes only married his sister for her money and the family connection.”

Natalie had her doubts. While certainly comfortable, the Tuckers weren’t as rich as they looked. And an ex-national rodeo champion who regularly appeared in magazine ads and on television wasn’t someone who needed the clout of the Tucker name. In her opinion, her boss had been looking for reasons to dislike Aaron.

“Maybe he blew all his money,” Deana offered.

“Or lost it on bad investments,” Alice suggested.

“Stop it, all of you.” Natalie frowned at her tablemates. Though she secretly agreed with her father’s assessment of Aaron’s financial situation, she refused to gossip about him. “You’re as bad as everyone else here.”

Deana rushed to their defense. “Naturally, we’re curious. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious, too?” her father asked. A slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Natalie tried to muster up some annoyance and failed. He knew her too well, better even than her mother and sister. “A little,” she admitted out loud. A lot, she admitted to herself. “But I won’t gossip about him.”

She herself had been the subject of countless dinner-table discussions when her flash-in-the-pan romance with Shiloh’s father ended.

Natalie met Shiloh’s father at the Payson rodeo last year when Jake’s cousin, Carolina, coerced her into going. For all her twenty-seven years, Natalie didn’t have much experience with men. Fraternizing with the guests was strictly prohibited. Guests were pretty much the only men Natalie met. As a result, she didn’t date much. Okay, hardly at all.

Like Aaron Reyes, Shiloh’s father made his living as a professional rodeo rider, though he wasn’t nearly as successful. He’d swept Natalie off her feet with his easy charm and heart-stopping sexy smile. She succumbed quickly, and when he didn’t leave right away for the next rodeo, she started hoping he’d stay on and that maybe her father would give him a job on the ranch.

The positive home-pregnancy test panicked him. It had panicked her, too. He might have done the right thing eventually, given the time and the chance. Married her, stayed on the ranch, paid monthly child support. But Natalie sent him packing the second she realized how much he didn’t want a child. She’d justified her actions, saying she deserved more than an irresponsible drifter for a husband and that Shiloh deserved a father who wanted her. But there were nights when she lay in bed awake, wondering if she’d been wrong to act so hastily.

Aaron Reyes reminded her too much of Shiloh’s father. No matter how interesting he might be, how “fine-looking” he was, how pleasant he seemed, Natalie had dated her last rodeo rider. More importantly, her boss didn’t like Aaron, and she refused to go against the Tuckers. Not voluntarily.

Shiloh began crying. Natalie unbuckled the straps holding her daughter in the carrier and lifted her out, automatically checking her diaper. It was dry. A few soothing words whispered in her ear helped to settle her.

“He can’t be that broke.” Deana wasn’t ready to abandon the topic of Aaron Reyes. “Not with the money he gets from the family trust.”

“Depends on annual profits,” Alice said. “We had a few lean years there, though things are picking up.”

Based on advance bookings, the ranch was in for the busiest season they’d had in a long while.

“And a lot of Jake Tucker’s wealth comes from his business investments outside of the ranch.” Her father gave her mother a very pointed stare.

“True.” Deana had the decency to look chagrined.

When she’d retired from Natalie’s job, it was to pursue a longtime dream of owning and running her own business. With Jake Tucker’s financial backing, she and Millie Sweetwater, Jake’s aunt, opened an antique shop in Payson that was so far operating in the black and showed promise of really taking off. Jake, Natalie knew, was satisfied with the return on his investment.

Yet one more reason for Natalie to steer clear of Aaron Reyes. It was unlikely Jake would withdraw his support of the business because of his aunt. But if he did, Natalie’s mother would suffer. Possibly lose the business. Jake and his aunt could withstand the financial hit. Not Deana.

Shiloh finally had enough and was now crying in earnest.

“I think this is my cue to go home.” Natalie returned Shiloh to the carrier and refastened the straps, then stood. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” She went around the table to the other side and gave each of her parents a kiss on the cheek.

“Night, baby girl.” Deana reached out and tickled Shiloh’s sock-covered foot. “I hope she doesn’t keep you up all hours of the night.”

“She’ll be fine once we get home.” Shiloh usually went to sleep quickly and often as not, didn’t wake up until morning. “I might walk around a bit first. Fresh air makes her sleepy.”

“You sure? It’s getting cold out there.”

Natalie tucked a blanket around the baby. “We won’t be long.”

She noticed Aaron still sitting and chatting as she wove between the tables and headed toward the kitchen. Apparently, he’d yet to grow weary of hearing his name on every person’s lips. Good for him.

Taking a shortcut through the kitchen, she stopped at the walk-in refrigerator and grabbed a bottled water before going outside. The instant they hit the cool evening air, Shiloh stopped crying and started looking around.

The peace and quiet was a welcome relief. Natalie paused a moment to enjoy the silence before cutting across a small strip of lawn that ran between the dining hall and the main lodge. She’d driven her compact car from her bunkhouse, not wanting to take Shiloh in the golf cart.

Light spilled from a window in the laundry room behind the kitchen, catching Natalie’s attention. She sighed and changed direction. This was hardly the first time she had to follow behind careless employees, shutting off lights they left on or picking up their discarded trash.

An empty bag sat atop one of the washers. Natalie looked around and when she saw nothing else amiss, switched off the light. She turned to leave…only to shop short when she came face-to-face with Aaron Reyes.

“Oh!” Her heart suddenly beat faster. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was here.” He moved aside to let her pass.

She stepped around him, carefully maneuvering Shiloh’s carrier. “I’m always shutting lights off.” She flicked the switch, turning the light back on.

“My fault. I’ll be more careful next time.”

He flashed her a smile. Not threatening or predatory or even sexy like Shiloh’s father. Just nice.

Although Natalie should have left—did her long talk with herself at dinner mean nothing?—she lingered. “How are you getting on with your bunkmates?”

“Great.”

“I should have warned you about Teresa.”

“What? And take all the fun out of it?” He pulled wet clothes from the washer and tossed them in the dryer.

“I really didn’t have any choice but to put you with them. Our employee contracts limit the number of people we can assign to a bunkhouse.”

“I like sleeping on the couch.”

Natalie winced. “I’m pretty sure we have a cot in one of the storage rooms. I’ll check on it tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing a button on the dryer. With a squeaky groan, the drum started spinning.

“You say that now. But after eight weeks—”

“I’ll still be fine. Really.”

A moment passed with neither of them moving. Even Shiloh quieted, her little arms no longer wiggling.

Natalie broke the silence. “Can I at least give you a ride to your bunkhouse?”

“No, thanks. I’ll walk back with my new roomies after my clothes are dry.”

“Okay.”

Her estimation of Aaron rose another notch. No one would think much of her giving one of the owners a ride. They would think a whole lot more of that owner if he walked.

Natalie took a step toward the door. There really was no reason to stay. So why didn’t she leave? “You going back to the dining hall?”

Aaron leaned a hip on the washing machine. “In a few minutes. I have some calls to make.”

Her eyes automatically went to the cell phone clipped to his belt. “You can’t get a signal everywhere on the ranch. It’s best near the main lodge and only when the weather’s not overcast.”

His expression warmed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Natalie wanted to bite her tongue. The line she delivered ten times a day to guests had sounded like an invitation to walk with her. It was all the incentive she needed to finally get a move on.

“Good night, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Stepping outside, she decided it would be for the best if she avoided Aaron as much as possible in the coming weeks. Technically, she worked for him, and it was her duty, her responsibility, to be helpful. But helpful didn’t include chitchatting in the laundry room. The last thing she wanted was for him to get the wrong idea.

Leaving him behind, she backtracked the way she’d come, her gaze focused on the uneven ground ahead. A shadow entered her line of vision. For the second time that night, she stopped short just before colliding with someone. Only this someone was her boss. Jake Tucker.

She didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t happy.

Chapter Three

Natalie skipped her usual sit-down breakfast the next morning. She had a hundred and one things to do and only two hours of uninterrupted work time while her mother watched Shiloh. After that, Deana would leave for the antique shop in Payson, an easy twenty-minute drive south on the highway.

Entering the dining hall, Natalie headed straight for the coffee station and filled her jumbo travel mug. On her way to the kitchen, she stopped by one of the tables and grabbed an English muffin, wrapping it in a napkin.

“Morning, honey,” her father called from the opposite table.

“Hey, Dad.”

Any other day, Natalie would have rushed over to give her father a quick hug or peck on the cheek. But this morning, he sat with Aaron Reyes, and they looked rather chummy with their heads bent, going over papers and maps and handwritten lists.

It wasn’t just their obvious involvement in whatever they were discussing that gave Natalie pause. Jake’s warning from the previous night still rang in her ears. He hadn’t told her not to talk to Aaron ever again, but he didn’t have to. She’d worked for Jake in some capacity since she was fourteen and long ago learned to read between his spoken lines.

“Gotta run.” She waved a hand at her father and smiled brightly, hoping neither he nor Aaron realized they were being snubbed. “See you later.” Sipping her coffee, she hurried toward the kitchen.