Married In A Month

“You have to be tired of rubbing his back. Let me.” A delicious fluttering began in Kati’s stomach at the sight of Colt’s strong hands, large and dark against the small baby’s blue fleece bunny pajamas. The picture was beautiful, moving. She had to look away.

The baby sighed deeply, his little arms and legs going limp as Colt’s hands worked a magic rhythm.

“I think you’ve got the touch,” she said.

“Yeah?” Colt looked pleased. “I never thought he liked me.”

Kati grinned. Who wouldn’t like Colt Garrett? “I think he’s finally comfortable enough to sleep.”

Very gently he lifted the baby and stood cradling the child in one arm while he extended the other to Kati. She knew touching him was a mistake, but she just couldn’t help herself. Taking his hand, she let him pull her up until she was no more than a breath away from his naked chest. Moonlight gilded them, the cowboy, the sleeping baby and the nanny.

The nanny, she had to remind herself. She was only…the nanny.

Dear Reader,

The summer after my thirteenth birthday, I read my older sister’s dog-eared copy of Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and I was hooked. Thousands of romance novels later—I won’t say how many years—I’ll gladly confess that I’m a romance freak! That’s why I am so delighted to become the associate senior editor for the Silhouette Romance line. My goal, as the new manager of Silhouette’s longest-running line, is to bring you brand-new, heartwarming love stories every month. As you read each one, I hope you’ll share the magic and experience love as it was meant to be.

For instance, if you love reading about rugged cowboys and the feisty heroines who melt their hearts, be sure not to miss Judy Christenberry’s Beauty & the Beastly Rancher (#1678), the latest title in her FROM THE CIRCLE K series. And share a laugh with the always-entertaining Terry Essig in Distracting Dad (#1679).

In the next THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD title by Patricia Thayer, Jared’s Texas Homecoming (#1680), a drifter’s life changes for good when he offers to marry his nephew’s mother. And a secretary’s dream comes true when her boss, who has amnesia, thinks they’re married, in Judith McWilliams’s Did You Say…Wife? (#1681).

Enjoy!

Mavis C. Allen

Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance

Married in a Month

Linda Goodnight

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To the men in my life:

Dwayne: Gentle soul whose love runs deeper than words. Mike: Who keeps me close to God. Travis: “Beloved son in whom I am well pleased.” Cody: Truly a gift from Heaven. Thank you for the joy you are. Gene: God in his kindness and wisdom knew how much I needed you. Thank you for loving me.

Books by Linda Goodnight

Silhouette Romance

For Her Child… #1569

Married in a Month #1682

LINDA GOODNIGHT

A romantic at heart, Linda Goodnight believes in the traditional values of family and home. Writing books enables her to share her certainty that, with faith and perseverance, love can last forever and happy endings really are possible.

A native of Oklahoma, Linda lives in the country with her husband, Gene, and Mugsy, and adorably obnoxious rat terrier. She and Gene have a blended family of six grown children. An elementary school teacher, she is also a licensed nurse. When time permits, Linda loves to read, watch football and rodeo and indulge in chocolate. She also enjoys taking long, calorie-burning walks in the nearby woods. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter One

Kati Winslow took a deep breath, exhaling with a shaky sigh. The next few minutes could mean the beginning—or the end—of her dreams. Perched on the edge of a heavy leather armchair in the very masculine office of the Garret Ranch, her palms grew damp just thinking about this crazy plan of hers.

The next few minutes could mean the end of her if she didn’t handle things right. Any man wild enough to throw his leg over the back of a Brahma bull was certainly capable of tossing an impertinent woman out the same door she’d come in.

But she’d face a wild bull rider or even a mountain lion if she had to. Anything for Kati’s Angels.

Checking one last time to be certain her imagination hadn’t run away with her again—that she really and truly had an appointment with Colt Garret—she glanced at the newspaper ad crumpled in her lap like a hamburger wrapper.

“Cowboy has motherless baby. Urgently needs live-in child care at Garret Ranch.”

The ad was followed by a phone number, a list of qualifications, and the words exceptional pay.

All well and good, but it wasn’t the job she needed. It was the man who’d placed the ad—former rodeo cowboy and present owner of one of the biggest spreads in north Texas—Colt Garret.

Kati’s heart did three back flips and a full Gaynor at the thought of the man who held her future in his hands, a man who’d held a special place in her heart for more than ten years. A man who didn’t even know she existed.

Nervously she brushed at the skirt of her only decent suit, flicking away an imaginary speck of lint. Kati hoped the mint-green skirt and matching jacket looked mature and sensible. More than anything she had to convince Colt that she was not as crazy as she was going to sound.

She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and, for the hundredth time, rechecked her appearance. Sensible white heels flat on the floor. Skirt carefully pulled over her slender knees. Pristine white blouse buttoned to the top. The entire rig was so totally out of character, if Colt didn’t hurry up the neat knot of hair would become a waterfall of dark, straight locks hanging down her back. And she’d be forced to kick off these pinching heels.

Where was he? Her gaze flicked anxiously from the fancy cowboy art hanging over the fireplace to the acres of lush green pasture visible outside the picture window and back to the solid oak entry. During their phone conversation, Colt had stressed his desperate need for a nanny. Under the circumstances that was exactly what she wanted to hear. But if the situation was all that urgent why hadn’t Colt met her at the door instead of that tattooed man who looked as though he’d stuck his finger in a light socket? And where was Colt now?

She twisted her foot, feeling the first warning twinge of a toe cramp. Just as she bent for a foot massage the study door flew open and a harried looking cowboy, cradling a screaming, flailing baby, charged into the room. Kati straightened suddenly, the cramp forgotten in a rush of emotion.

Even unshaved and rumpled, Colt was more gorgeous than she remembered. Her heart joined her toe in a vicious cramp.

Wide-shouldered, skinny-hipped, he wore a red Western shirt that accentuated his darkness. Faded Wrangler jeans followed the angle of long, muscled thighs. Above a pair of red-rimmed eyes the color of Hershey’s Kisses, his dark brown hair needed a trim.

He was tall and trim and gorgeous, and he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her.

“Are you Kati Winslow?” he asked above the din of the wailing infant.

So he didn’t remember her. That much, at least, was good. If he had any idea she’d once fancied herself in love with him, he’d never fall for this scheme.

“Yes.” She struggled to meet his gaze, worried that her too-wide eyes would betray the terror gnawing at her insides.

“Let me see your résumé.”

Willing her hand not to tremble, she gave him the paper and was surprised when he handed her the baby in return. While he examined the sheet, she sat down again, laid the fussy infant over her shoulder and gently patted his back. He was soft and warm and clean but squirming miserably. Within seconds, he burped loudly, heaved a shuddering sigh of relief, and snuggled into her neck, his little head lolling to one side in exhaustion.

Colt looked up, expression stunned. “You’re hired.”

“What?”

He nodded toward the baby. “He’s stopped crying. That’s good enough for me. You’re hired. Can you start right now?”

Kati batted her eyes, confused. “Right this minute?”

“I’m desperate.” Wearily he collapsed into a high-backed chair behind the desk and slumped forward, resting his arms on the polished top.

She hoped he was as desperate as she was.

Kati considered his bloodshot eyes and bent posture. His exhaustion was so complete that she actually felt sorry for him. But she couldn’t let her sympathy get in the way. For once in her life, she had to think ruthlessly.

“May I ask where the baby’s mother is?”

Colt scraped a hand over his whiskers. Out of his mind with exhaustion and, if he was willing to admit it, downright terror, he hardly knew where to begin. How had this happened to him, a die-hard bachelor without a paternal bone in his body? How had he come into possession of a three-month-old child?

“It’s a very long story, but if you’re willing to listen…” Colt glanced up. Through blurry eyes he saw her nod, so he plunged in, reliving the fateful day three weeks earlier when he’d opened his doors to insanity.

Within ten minutes after the nervous little messenger had appeared at his door, Colt had run the gamut of emotions from disbelief to pure terror. Pacing the length of his ranch-style living room, he’d stopped now and then to stare from the blue-wrapped bundle in the stranger’s arms to the papers in his own hands. His mind reeled with what he’d read there. Some woman he’d never heard of had sent him a baby to care for.

“How could anybody leave an infant in my custody? I don’t know anything about kids.” Colt shook the paper beneath the other man’s nose. “Just who is this Natosha Parker, anyway? I’ve never even heard of her.”

The messenger broke out in a sweat and hugged the door handle a little harder. Colt paused long enough to catch his breath, and the poor hapless man took that as an opportunity to escape before the big cowboy really lost it. He eased the door open, clearly hoping to Hannah that the wild-eyed rancher didn’t yank him backward through the keyhole.

“Beats me, sir,” he said, backing out the door. “All they told me to do was bring the baby out here to one Colt Garret.” He shoved the infant into Colt’s arms. “That’s you, and I’m outa here.”

He whirled and bounded across the concrete porch.

“Wait a minute,” Colt yelled at the retreating form. “ Who told you to bring the baby out here?”

The messenger didn’t wait around to answer. He crammed the ordinary-looking brown sedan into gear and hightailed it down the long driveway toward the gate, fishtailing beneath the Garret Ranch sign.

The baby, whose tiny form was strapped into a carrier of some type, chose that moment to awaken. A high-pitched wail rent the country quiet. Cole pivoted from the front window where a rising plume of dust was all that remained of the retreating sedan. He shoved a work-hardened hand through his hair, sending thick, brown waves in a dozen different directions, and stalked toward the hallway.

“Cookie, get in here,” he bellowed. At the sound of shouting, the baby jerked, his little arms flew straight up and he wailed all the louder.

Cookie, chief cook and general housekeeper for the Garret Ranch, scuttled in from the kitchen. Twigs of hair stuck out on his head like blackjack sprouts. A battleship tattoo, a result of one wild weekend in Hong Kong, sailed his arm from shoulder to wrist. A white chef’s apron covered the forty extra pounds of paunch around his middle. He was a scary sight, but the bachelor brothers of Garret Ranch didn’t care. He made a mean chicken-fried steak, and that was really all that mattered.

“What in blue blazes is all the racket in here, boss?” His voice, a startling replica of an air horn, made the baby cry even more.

“It’s a baby.”

“A what?” Cookie backed away.

The sight brought a momentary, though not too happy, smile to Colt’s face. “I said a baby, Cookie, not a rattlesnake.”

“Same blame thing. Only, I know what to do with a rattlesnake.” He shuffled over to the couch and peered down at the screaming infant. “Whose is it?”

“For the time being, he’s mine.”

Cookie plopped down on the couch beside the crying infant and began to laugh. The sound rumbled like a passing train. “One of them lady friends of yours finally got you, didn’t she? You gave her a baby, and she gave him back to you. I knew it. I knew it. I told you that wild living would come home to roost some day, and it sure enough did. Here it is in the flesh.”

Cole was dumbstruck. “You think this is my baby?”

“Ain’t it?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

Of course he was sure. He hadn’t done any “wild living” in years. Well, months, maybe. And the few times he’d been with someone he’d been very, very careful. He and his brother Jett had long ago made a pact to remain footloose and fancy-free. They were cowboys who loved their freedom and their wide-open spaces. No women or kids could tie them down. No sirree, not the Garret brothers.

The baby’s cries had turned to shrieks. The tiny face was a wrinkled, purple mess.

“Do something, Cookie.”

“Me?” The older man shook his head, setting the blackjack sprouts aquiver. “It’s your baby.”

“What do you suppose he wants?” Side by side, the men stared down at the infant.

Cookie, who thought food was the answer to every problem, hit upon the perfect solution. “Maybe it’s hungry. You suppose there’s a bottle or something in one of them bags?”

Colt hadn’t even noticed the three bags leaning against the wall just inside the front door. He hurried to them, searching for something—anything—to make this little fella hush up. An array of plastic diapers, blankets and tiny clothes were stuffed into the bags. One by one he threw them out, scattering baby items all over the thick, brown carpet.

“Aha!” he cried. Delirious with relief, he withdrew a filled baby bottle and carried it back to the couch. The baby lay in his padded carrier thrashing his arms and squirming like the rattlesnake Cookie had likened him to. Colt pushed the bottle into the infant’s open mouth. Instantly the baby quieted.

“Just like feeding a motherless calf,” Cookie commented as the child latched on to the nipple and sucked greedily.

“This is a lot more serious than a calf, Cookie. Babies need attention all the time, not just morning and evening. We’ve got to find this baby’s mama and send him home.”

“Cute little feller, ain’t he?” Cookie stroked one fat finger along the baby’s cheek. The child turned his head toward the finger, a pair of brown eyes searching Cookie’s face. “How could any mama worth her salt dump him on a stranger’s doorstep like this?”

“According to the letter, the mother doesn’t consider me a stranger. That’s the odd part of all this. I don’t remember ever meeting any Natosha Parker, but this paper says I’m the only person she trusts to take good care of little Evan.” He looked up and grinned. “I guess his name is Evan.”

“Don’t make no sense, boss. If you don’t know her, how can she trust you?”

“I don’t know.” Thoughtfully Colt rubbed at his whiskers. “Maybe I should call the sheriff and turn the baby over to him.”

“And have him wind up in one of them homes somewhere? We can’t do that to this little feller.”

Never one to shun responsibility, Colt knew Cookie was right. The papers looked legal and in order, granting him complete and total custody of Evan Lane Parker, two-month-old son of Natosha Parker. He’d handled enough of his own stock contracts to know airtight legal work when he saw it.

“That’s the answer, Cookie.” He slapped the papers against his knee. Once more the baby jerked his hands into the air. “These are legal papers. Some lawyer drew them up for this Natosha Parker woman. I’ll call Jace Bristow and have him take a look. He can trace the mother through these papers.”

Jace Bristow had been Colt’s attorney since the two graduated from Texas A & M. He was a great attorney and an even better friend. If anyone could trace this baby’s mother, Jace could do it. Colt breathed a tentative sigh of relief.

Cookie, however, looked doubtful. “What do we do with him in the meantime?”

Colt hunkered down beside the couch, his eyes on the baby. The little critter didn’t look half so scary with his mouth closed. Fact of the business, he was downright cute sucking on that bottle with such heartrending desperation. He wasn’t bald like most babies Colt had seen. He had a smooth cap of dark hair above a round face, a tiny bit of a nose and a pair of big brown eyes that followed every move Colt made. Someone had lovingly dressed him in blue overalls, a soft red shirt and a floppy cotton sailor hat that had fallen off during his fit of crying.

Who are you, little man? And where did you come from? Colt wondered, as he stroked a finger over the velvety soft hand. Evan responded by wrapping his own tiny fingers around the much larger one. At the unexpected rush of emotion, Colt gently withdrew his hand and straightened. He was a responsible man, a decent man, but he was not daddy material. Never would be. He sure as blazes couldn’t go getting attached to somebody else’s baby. And he had a real bad feeling that would be mighty easy to do.

“I’ve got a ranch to run. You’ll have to look out for him.”

“I didn’t hire on to take care of no babies,” Cookie protested. “I feel sorry for the little feller, but I’ll quit if you try to turn me into a nursemaid.”

“Come on, Cookie, you spent twenty years in the navy. Surely, you can handle a baby for a few days.”

“Weren’t no babies in the navy. I got my hands full cooking and cleaning for you and that bunch of ranch hands. I ain’t doin’ it. You’ll have to hire a baby-sitter.”

Suddenly an unpleasant odor emanated from the couch. Colt wrinkled his nose and looked from Cookie to the straining, red-faced infant. Cookie roared like a mad bull and beat a fast retreat to the kitchen. Totally defeated, Colt stared after his cook and then down at the gurgling baby. That was the moment he knew that his life would never be the same.

“So,” he said wearily to the prospective nanny, motioning to the baby in her arms. “That’s all I know about Evan’s mother.”

He didn’t bother to tell her the rest. That live-in help was next to impossible to find because of the ranch’s isolated location in the middle of miles and miles of cattle range. Nor did he mention his less-than-stellar bachelor reputation. No use telling Miss Kati Winslow all that, or she’d up and run out the door and leave him with this unhappy baby.

“Trouble is, I don’t know what I’m doing and he senses it. He cries all the time. Never sleeps.” Colt’s shoulders sagged. “I think he hates me.”

With each word, Kati’s foolish heart lifted a few inches. He really was desperate. She just might be able to pull this off. “Have you considered turning him over to Social Services?”

Colt wagged his shaggy head. “Even though there are some good foster parents out there, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. For some reason Evan’s mother trusted me to care for him, and I’m going to do that until I find her.”

Sadness shimmied through Kati, her thoughts centered on the poor abandoned baby in her arms. This little boy had narrowly missed placement in foster care, a life that Kati knew all too well. She’d do anything—anything to spare him that. Her desire to care for him shot up a notch. Certain she was helping all concerned, Kati buried her nose in Evan’s soft, powder-scented neck and battled the guilt of using Colt’s kindness against him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garret.” With steely determination she stood and tenderly handed him the sleeping baby. A puzzled Colt slipped his dark, powerful hands beneath the child, cradling the small body against his wide masculine chest. Kati glanced away and gulped. In the next two minutes she needed to be convincing, not moved to tears by the sight of a big ol’ cowboy holding an innocent baby.

Drawing upon a lifetime of pretending, Kati took a deep breath and coolly announced, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not interested in the job.”

Colt looked stunned. Panic filled his bloodshot eyes.

“What? No. You can’t do this. I need you. He needs you.” He came around the desk holding Evan against his shoulder with one hand while extending the other in a pleading gesture. “Please. The salary is good. You’ll have your own room, your own cook, the run of the place.”

She shook her head. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but the baby’s mother could return at any time. There’s no job security. Furthermore, the ranch is so secluded.”

Colt’s dark-brown eyes locked with her gray ones, using every ounce of his persuasive charm. If she hadn’t fully intended to take the job—under her own terms, of course—she’d have buckled from the pressure. The look Colt gave her was enough to melt the polar ice cap. And Kati was a marshmallow.

“Please,” he pleaded hoarsely, “I’ll pay you whatever you ask. Anything at all.”

He moved nearer, bringing with him the scent of man and baby mingled pleasantly together.

“You’re the only qualified applicant I’ve had.” He sounded pathetic—and smelled wonderful. “The references you gave me over the phone all checked out. I’ll raise the pay. Heck, I’ll even…buy you a car. You have to take the job.”

He stood within a breath of her, staring down into her face with such earnest persuasion that Kati was on the verge of agreeing to anything he asked. She tried backing away before she lost control of the entire situation. Colt reached out and touched her arm. Like the time all those years ago the thrill of his touch rendered her senseless. She couldn’t think. Her head started chanting Colt’s name.

“Anything, Kati,” Colt begged. “Name it, and it’s yours.”

She was mesmerized. A moth over the flame. A deer in the headlights.

“Anything at all,” he said softly, seductively.

Her heart thundered. Her ears rang. She couldn’t think straight. Why had she come here, anyway? Oh, yes. Because of Colt. To marry Colt. That was it.

“Marry me,” she blurted.

He stared at her as though she’d grown horns. She wondered if she had. This wasn’t the way she’d planned to say it. She’d wanted to remain rational and logical while they hammered out a business deal. Instead she’d become the blathering idiot of her nightmares.

Slowly, Colt withdrew his hand and took one step backward. His horrified gaze remained riveted on her face.

As her good sense returned, Kati squirmed beneath his appraisal, equally as horrified. This was her one chance. If she blew it now, there would never be a Kati’s Angels Child Care.

Having already crossed the line, she straightened her shoulders and plunged in. With every bit of enthusiasm, logic and rationale she could muster while shaking in her shoes, Kati tried to convince him that the plan was simple, easy, and helpful to all concerned. The bankers of Rattlesnake wouldn’t loan her the money to build a child-care center unless she had collateral.