Christmas On The Ranch: The Rancher's Christmas Baby / Christmas Eve Cowboy

He nodded. “Yep. The point is, I’d rather have these guys than those cars.”

Laughing, she said, “Clever and appropriate.”

“I thought so.” He cut her a curious look. “What was that you were speaking earlier? It wasn’t English.”

“Well, it’s primarily Unami. Some call it Lenape, though that word means man or people. My mother was almost full-blood Leni-Lenape, what you would call Delaware Indian.”

“Then you’re Native American.”

She smiled. “Mostly.”

“No wonder you’re so beautiful.” She looked as shocked as he felt, the words slipping out completely unintended. “I mean, no wonder your hair and eyes are so black and your skin is so...smooth.”

Her “Thank you” came out in a strangled voice, but then she quickly said, “I’d better get back to the house.”

Dixon muttered, “Gonna work the horses.”

She hurried away, and when he finished mentally kicking himself, he determined to do his very best to keep his distance.

He put his hand in his coat pocket and felt the half-filled baggie there.

Clearly the woman was dangerous to his good sense. If nothing else.

Chapter Five

No wonder you’re so beautiful.

Those unexpected words haunted Fawn—and apparently drove Dixon away, because she saw him only at breakfast and dinner for the rest of the week. With the baby, he made faces and silly noises, perfectly pleasant, but he ignored Fawn and Jackie. He did, however, eat and eat plenty. Once, Fawn asked how the cow was doing.

“Getting along,” he muttered, not even looking up.

She didn’t ask again.

By Friday, the pantry and the baby were nearly bare, so Fawn did what her grandmother had taught her to do: she took stock, devised a menu, made a list, estimated the cost of every item and counted out the cash. What little disability and survivor’s Social Security Jackie and Bella drew monthly was currently entrusted to Fawn’s care, and she was careful not to pay her own expenses from it. The shopping list and the cash she left on the breakfast table next to Dixon’s plate. When he came in to eat, he couldn’t help seeing it, and he wasn’t happy.

“You sure make yourself at home, don’t you? Guess you think you’re just going to take over around here.”

Stung, she turned her back to him and began scrubbing the countertop. “Actually I think I’m going to clean the kitchen.”

Jackie shuffled in a few moments later, the fussy baby in her arms. Fawn began rinsing and drying her hands.

“Someone woke up early,” Dixon commented, sounding pleased.

“Rather, she slept late,” Jackie corrected, yawning. “She slept through until just now.”

“I have a bottle ready for her,” Fawn said, coming to take the baby so Jackie could sit down. “Did you change her?”

“I did. We’re running low on diapers, by the way.”

Fawn said nothing to that. She could always take Bella to town with her and do the shopping, but she hated to leave Jackie alone. It had been too long since Jackie had seen a doctor, another matter Fawn needed to take up with Dixon soon. Feeding Bella took precedence, however. She picked up the waiting bottle and slipped the nipple between the baby’s quivering lips.

“I think it’s warmer in the living room,” Jackie murmured, but before she could turn away, Fawn stopped her.

“Sit down and eat while your breakfast is still hot.” She carried the baby back to Jackie and waited for the older woman to take a seat at the table before handing the infant to her. Jackie cuddled her daughter close while Fawn quickly removed Jackie’s breakfast from the warming oven. She placed the food on the table and took Bella back.

“This looks good,” Jackie said, picking up her spoon and casting a careful glance at her son.

“It is,” Dixon confirmed, surprising Fawn with the compliment.

No wonder you’re so beautiful.

Flustered and confused, given his combativeness that morning, Fawn turned away, gently rocking the baby, who finished the bottle in record time. Fawn lifted Bella to her shoulder, got the expected hearty burp and tucked the little one onto her hip while she continued wiping down the counters.

“You seem to have ample experience with infants,” Dixon commented after a few minutes.

The words flowed over Fawn in a series of tiny shocks, but she neither turned nor flinched.

“I started babysitting when I was eleven. Besides, Lenape women are raised to multitask.”

“I thought Lenape meant man.”

“Or people,” Fawn reminded him.

“In this case, it means the people,” Jackie put in. “The Delaware are a matriarchal society, you know. They produce very strong women.”

“That explains a lot,” Dixon commented drily.

Fawn could feel her blood pressure rising. She worked to tamp down her ire for several seconds before she could say, “I’m doing laundry today. Do you want me to do your laundry? Or am I not supposed to use your washer and dryer?”

Chair legs scraped on the tile floor. Not trusting herself to fully face him without completely losing her temper, she half turned, glancing over her shoulder, the baby cradled against her side. Dixon stood in front of his chair, poking the shopping list into his shirt pocket.

“Use whatever you like,” he retorted, heading for the mudroom, “but I do my own laundry.” The money, she saw, remained on the table. He turned in the doorway and looked at his mother. “I’ll be home early.”

Fawn shot a look at Jackie, who appeared to be hiding a smile behind a spoon.

“My boy growls,” she said as the outside door closed behind him, “but he always does the right thing in the end.”

Fawn said nothing to that. Truth required no comment, and if, in the end, Jackie’s faith in her son proved false, well then Fawn would do what was necessary.

* * *

Guilt had become Dixon’s constant companion. He felt guilty for resenting his mother, who was so obviously ill. He felt guilty for not telling his dad about her presence and for telling no one about his sister. Most of all, he felt guilty for enjoying so very much the benefits of having Fawn around. It irked him, in fact, that she was so easy to live with, so easy to like, so easy to talk to, not to mention easy on the eyes.

His dad maintained that not all women were as difficult to live with as his mother and grandmother, but Dixon’s experience proved otherwise. Every girl he’d ever dated had been more trouble than she was worth in the end, always yapping at him about something, never saying exactly what she meant, expecting him to decipher hidden meanings in everything. He’d about decided that he was going to stay single for the rest of his life, especially given the slim pickings in the War Bonnet area.

Fawn was a quiet one, tranquil somehow even when busy. He’d rattled her this morning, but he’d had to work at it, and if he was honest, he’d enjoyed himself. To a point. He liked having her in the house. It was nice not to come home to a cold, empty building, and he’d never eaten better.

The baby was no bother, either. His mother, on the other hand, was easy to ignore. Too easy. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure who was ignoring whom. Whenever he entered a room, Jackie seemed to shortly leave it. In some ways, it was almost as if she was neglecting him all over again. As contradictory as it seemed, even as he sought to avoid her, he resented that she seemed to avoid him.

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