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Inquire as to why? What kind of question was that? Finally, he blurted, “How old are you?”
The corners of her too-full lips tilted up. “I’m twenty-two. Why? Age has nothing to do with anything.”
Oh, yes it did. He was thirty-four years old and she wasn’t.
“A young girl like you—” he started.
“I’m not a girl. I’m a woman—with baby to support.”
Like he didn’t know that.
“I know this isn’t ideal. Not for me, either, but I really need this job, Mr. Coleman.”
“Dax,” he growled. And what did she mean, this wasn’t ideal for her, either? What was wrong with his ranch? “I have a son. He’s in kindergarten.”
“I have a daughter. You delivered her.”
Jenna Garwood did not play fair. Had she intuitively known he felt some kind of warped sense of responsibility for her and the baby?
The baby in her arms squeaked, squirming. Dax felt a momentary reprieve from this miserable conversation. “She’s awake.”
That motherly Madonna sweetness moved across Jenna Garwood’s face. “Will you hold her for a minute while I get the diaper bag from the car? She’s probably wet.”
Dax swallowed hard and made no move to take the offered baby.
“She won’t bite.” That precise, clipped voice chided him for being a coward.
Him? A coward? “Get the bag.”
As if he was hypnotized, he reached out, awkward at first as he took the tiny bundle in his arms.
Jenna wasted no time heading for her car.
The front door snapped shut. The baby startled in that special way only newborns do. With fingers too big and thick to be handling an infant again, Dax peeled back the blanket and looked down into a face as pink and new as a rosebud.
His heart did a funny jitterbug in his chest. He remembered when Gavin was this small and helpless. He remembered how scared and alone he’d felt knowing he was the only parent with sole responsibility for another human being.
Did Jenna Garwood feel that way, too? There was dignity in her voice but a look of desperation in her eyes that he understood too well.
The baby mewed and made that squeaky, about-to-cry sound. Tiny, gossamer eyelids lifted. A pair of dark blue eyes snagged him as if he were a marlin and she were a giant hook.
With an inner groan, he knew he was in trouble. Big trouble.
He’d been in Jenna Garwood’s shoes. He’d been alone with a newborn—alone and desperate.
And, though he was sure he’d live to regret his rash, emotional decision, he was going to hire her.
CHAPTER FIVE
JENNA MOVED IN that afternoon.
She had plenty of reservations about living on the remote ranch with a man she barely knew, but she and Sophie were out of choices. She was troubled that Dax Coleman hadn’t wanted to hire her at first and then had suddenly changed his mind. Troubled and curious.
For those few minutes when she’d gone to the car for Sophie’s diapers, she’d been certain he would send her away. She’d returned to the house prepared to beg and lie and make up references, only to discover that his attitude had completely reversed.
The perplexing rancher had been sitting in a leather rocking chair with Sophie cradled against his chest. For one moment, Jenna had remained in the foyer watching and aching with the knowledge that Sophie would not have a father to cradle her. She’d listened as Dax murmured softly to the baby in a way that turned Jenna’s insides to warm honey. When she’d made her presence known, he’d gone silent.
But she’d heard. And that moment had told her a great deal about Dax Coleman.
By the time she had driven to the B and B for her belongings, then returned to the ranch, Dax was nowhere to be seen. A slim, nice-looking cowboy who appeared amused with the world greeted her at the front door.
“Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing?” His grin widened as his gaze slid over her. “Old Dax must be going blind.”
Jenna blinked, startled and uncomfortable. What exactly did he mean? That Dax thought she was ugly? Not that it mattered one iota what Dax thought about her appearance. She had no illusions about her looks, but still, a woman didn’t like thinking her appearance was the topic of dinner conversation.
A dry leaf swirled from beneath a fat oak tree in the yard and glided around her head. The weather today was colder and she was eager to get Sophie inside.
“I’m Jenna Garwood, the new housekeeper.”
The admission sounded strange on her lips. She was someone’s housekeeper.
The ranch hand crossed a pair of muscled arms over his chest. “You sure are. I’m Rowdy Davis, Dax’s ranch manager. He said you’d be coming back soon.”
