A Daddy for Dillon

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Authors: Stella Bagwell

BOOK: A Daddy for Dillon
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CAN LOVE CHANGE THIS LONELY COWBOY?

Having struggled for years, Leyla Chee wasn’t about to mess up her temporary job as cook on the Chaparral Ranch. That meant focusing on her work, her young son and her dreams of going back to school. And certainly not being tempted by the sexy foreman who devoured her cooking, put a smile on Dillon’s face and made her own heart race!

But Laramie Jones’s strong shoulders seemed ready to share Leyla’s burdens. His rough hands smoothed away her cares. And his mouth…well, what he did with that mouth made her blush! Yet Laramie was a man without a real past—could she trust that what he really wanted was a future with her?

“You don’t have children, do you?”

Her question stung him, even though it shouldn’t have. Over the years Laramie had tried to picture himself as a father. But that was like imagining a ditch digger becoming a heart surgeon. It was possible. People could always learn, but along the way they were bound to make mistakes. And in his opinion a child’s rearing was too important for mistakes.

“No. But I was a little boy once. That sorta qualifies me to understand Dillon’s way of thinking.”

Her dark eyes were making a slow sweep of him. He felt ridiculously exposed. Maybe she could see he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of having a woman in his life and children looking to him for guidance. Maybe she could see that a bucking bronc or a raging bull didn’t scare him in the least, but the word
love
or
marriage
terrified him.

Dear Reader,

I first met Leyla Chee in
His Medicine Woman
when she was giving birth to her son in the backseat of Johnny Chino’s truck. At that time, the only thing I knew about her was that she was alone and struggling to survive. A few books later, the memory of her quiet strength remained with me and I realized she deserved to find love in her life, a home and family of her own. But what sort of man would be special enough to give her those things and also be a daddy to her son?

Laramie Jones has always been content to remain in the background. For years he’s lived among a big family, but never truly belonged to one. He isn’t planning to become a husband or father, but love has a way of changing a man’s thinking.

Every person has their own definition of what they call home. But I think we can all agree that home is not a place, it’s a sense of belonging and feeling loved. I hope you enjoy reading how Leyla learns exactly what she and Dillon need the most.

God bless the trails you ride,

Stella

A Daddy
for Dillon

Stella Bagwell

Books by Stella Bagwell

Harlequin Special Edition


Daddy’s Double Duty
#2121

His Medicine Woman
#2141

Christmas with the Mustang Man
#2159

His Texas Baby
#2199

The Doctor’s Calling
#2213

A Daddy for Dillon
#2260

Silhouette Special Edition


From Here to Texas
#1700

Taming a Dark Horse
#1709

A South Texas Christmas
#1789

The Rancher’s Request
#1802

The Best Catch in Texas
#1814

Having the Cowboy’s Baby
#1828
''Paging Dr. Right
#1843

Her Texas Lawman
#1911

Hitched to the Horseman
#1923

The Christmas She Always Wanted
#1935

Cowboy to the Rescue
#1947
''A Texan on her Doorstep
#1959

Lone Star Daddy
#1985

Branded with His Baby
#2018

The Deputy’s Lost and Found
#2039

His Texas Wildflower
#2104

Silhouette Books

The Fortunes of Texas
The Heiress and the Sheriff

Maitland Maternity
Just for Christmas

A Bouquet of Babies
*“Baby on Her Doorstep”

Midnight Clear
*“Twins under the Tree”

Going to the Chapel
“The Bride’s Big Adventure”

*Twins on the Doorstep
†Men of the West

 

 

Other titles by Stella Bagwell available in ebook format.

STELLA BAGWELL

has written more than seventy novels for Harlequin Books. She credits her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way.

A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns, and has recently learned how to rope a steer. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the south Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love.

The couple have a son, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach. Stella loves to hear from readers and invites them to contact her at
[email protected]
.

To my readers, thank you so much
for inspiring me to tell another story
and for making my job so very worthwhile.

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

T
he Chaparral ranch house was shrouded in darkness as Laramie Jones entered an atrium that also served as a back porch. The long room filled with plants and cushioned lawn chairs was faintly illuminated by a row of outside footlights, but he hardly needed a light to show him the way to the kitchen door. He knew the path by heart. This New Mexico ranch had been his home for nearly eighteen years, and for the past year he’d been residing right here in the Cantrell’s family home.

About to reach for the doorknob, he instinctively jumped back when the wood and glass panel burst open and a tiny person crashed directly into his shins.

“Whoa!” Reaching down, Laramie attempted to snatch a hold on the darting child.

“Dillon! Come to me. Right now!”

The female voice was soft but firm, and Laramie quickly looked around to see a very young woman standing in the open doorway. As he stared, trying to figure out who she might be, the wayward boy scampered to her side and latched a death grip around her leg.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “My son doesn’t normally run from me. I hope he didn’t hurt you.”

Her son! The boy appeared to be about three. From this limited view, she hardly looked old enough to be his mother. The light shining through the entryway silhouetted her petite figure and created a flame-colored halo around black hair that was pulled sleekly back from her face. Although her features were in shadow, he could see the faint shape of broad lips and a pair of very dark eyes. Neither of which were smiling.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “The little guy couldn’t hurt me if he tried.” Moving forward, he extended a hand toward her. “I’m Laramie Jones, the Chaparral foreman.” She took his hand and he was immediately struck by how small and soft it felt against his.
Was this woman a guest of the ranch?
Frankie, the mistress of the ranch, was still away in Texas visiting her sons and their families, so she couldn’t be a guest of hers, he decided. Perhaps she was connected to Reena Crow, the ranch house cook. This young woman was clearly Native American, as was Reena. The two might be related.

Her next words answered his questions.

“I know,” she said. “I was expecting you. I’m Leyla Chee. I have your dinner ready.”

She dropped her hand and quickly started back into the house with the boy in tow. Laramie stared after the two of them. This was the new cook?
She
had taken Reena’s place? A few days ago, Quint had mentioned the regular cook would be heading over to Apache Wells to replace his grandfather Abe’s cook, who’d had the misfortune to break his leg. But Laramie hadn’t dwelled on the matter. Who prepared his meals was the least of his concerns. Especially these days, when everything seemed to be going wrong on the ranch. Still, he’d hardly expected a young mother to be taking over the job. And where was Leyla’s husband? Had he moved into the house with her?

As Laramie followed her into the house, Leyla didn’t give him the opportunity to ask those questions. She and the boy quickly moved ahead of him, then passed through the kitchen doorway and out of sight. With a puzzled shake of his head, Laramie turned the opposite direction and headed upstairs to his bedroom.

Ten minutes later he returned to the kitchen, his dark hair damp from a shower, his dirty jeans and shirt replaced with clean ones.

The new cook was standing, her head slightly bent to one side as she adjusted a burner on the huge gas range. She was dressed in black jeans and a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up on her forearms. Her black hair, which must have been extremely long, was coiled into a braided knot and fastened to the crown of her head.

Immediately upon hearing his footsteps, she turned to face him and Laramie was once again struck by the youthful appearance of her face. Beneath the glow of florescent lighting, he could see her skin was a beautiful creamy tan, her lips pink, her eyes a shade just shy of black. High, rounded cheekbones were flushed with a deep rosy color and he wondered if that was a result of working over the heat of the stove or of seeing him.

Hell, Laramie, why should you make this young girl blush? She couldn’t be that shy around men. She has a child.

“In the dining room,” she said, pointing to an open doorway leading into the main part of the house. “Sassy is already finished cleaning for the evening. So I put everything in there for you.”

The dining room? This young woman was treating him like he was someone special. Hell, he was just the foreman. Maybe she was confused and thought he was a part of the Cantrell family. “Uh—look, Leyla, I’m sorry you went to all that trouble. I always take my meals here in the kitchen.”

As she walked toward him, he spotted from the corner of his eye the boy, who was sitting on the floor near the breakfast bar. He was a stocky child with sturdy shoulders. Brown hair, the color of powdered cocoa, fell across his forehead in thick, jagged bangs. A crayon was clutched in his little fist, and a sheet of lined paper lay flat between his outstretched legs. At the moment, though, the child was ignoring the crayon and paper and was staring at Laramie with a guarded expression.

“Reena said you are the boss man,” Leyla reasoned.

It was Laramie who suddenly found himself blushing as he looked away from the boy and back at her. He’d been called “boss” before by the ranch hands but not by a lovely young woman like her. It made him feel way overrated.

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