Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (45 page)

Elsie appeared at the barn door. She looked from Beth to Dan with speculation, a slight smile on her lips as usual. “Here you go.”

Beth grabbed the oversize baby bottle and offered it to Dan as Elsie slipped back out of the barn.

“Want to feed the calf for me?” he asked Beth.

“Really?” Her brows rose. “All by myself?”

“Sure. I've got to stay here with this momma, but the baby needs that bottle. Tuck the calf firmly against you with an elbow and hold the bottle. That's all there is to it. They catch on pretty fast.” Across the barn the baby cow stood next to the fence and stared woefully at them.

“Why are you feeding only one?” Beth asked.

“The momma is feeding the other one. She's a little confused, and doesn't realize this baby is hers as well.”

“An abandoned baby.” Beth sighed.

“Seems to be the theme around here,” Dan murmured.

“What will happen to the one she doesn't acknowledge?”

“Time will tell. We may try to match her up with a cow that loses her calf. Bottom line is we'll try everything to make sure every calf survives.”

Beth nodded.

“These cows are Joe's paycheck, and he gets paid only once a year, so every animal is valuable.”

“He gets paid once a year?”

“When the cows go to market. It helps that he also grows and sells hay, but these cows are important.” Dan slid on a glove and checked the heifer. “Breech,” he muttered. With a shake of his head he yanked off the soiled glove. “Lord,” he prayed. “I need this calf to change position. Soon, please. Amen.”

“Do you always talk to God like that?”

“Like how?” Dan asked. He looked at Beth, but her face was obscured by a curtain of hair as she fed the calf.

“You know. Casually.”

Dan frowned. “He's supposed to be our Father, right? So I talk to Him like He is one of the family.”

“I've never heard of such a thing.”

“Now you have,” Dan said with a chuckle.

She repositioned her arm and checked the bottle. “We're done here,” she announced.

“Great, thanks.”

“What else can I do?”

“Take a break. I'm going to do another check on the pen. I'll be right back. Come and get me if this cow makes any noise.”

“What exactly are you checking?”

“I'll evaluate the herd to see if any other calves have been born, and how they're doing. Then I'll be looking for signs of potential delivery problems. Heifers mostly. They're cows that have never given birth. We check the older cows as well to see how they're handling the weather.”

“They stay out in the snow?”

“We can bring in the problems, but not all of them. They're cows, they'll survive. Besides, Joe has a small herd. Thankfully, this is a spring snow. It's cold, but it's not a bitter arctic blast.” He grabbed his leather gloves. “There's always something to check around here. Feed. Fences. Cows. Chickens. Horses. Always something. I'm only grateful this is my brother's headache most of the time.”

* * *

Dan opened the barn door and filled his wheelbarrow with feed cakes.

Across the barn, Beth Rogers sat in an old cane chair, hands in her lap and her head resting back against a wooden rail, sound asleep. She was going to have a stiff neck from that position. Dan debated waking her as he watched her peaceful breathing.

“I brought coffee.” Behind him, his mother peeked around his shoulder.

He set down the wheelbarrow. “Thanks, Mom.”

“She's sleeping,” Elsie said.

“Yeah. The dogs were barking to be fed a while ago and she never even moved.”

“Oh, goodness, poor thing. All tuckered out.”

“She helped me pull another three calves, so she's earned the right to be tuckered out.”

“Not too bad for a city girl,” Elsie observed.

Dan smiled, his gaze lingering on Beth's profile.
No, not too bad at all.

His mother glanced around the barn. “How do we stand?”

Dan yawned. “What day is it?”

She glanced at her watch. “You've been up for twenty-four hours. It's Monday, 5:00 a.m.”

“Five o'clock. Mind telling me why you're up so early?”

“I never do sleep well when I know that you or your brother are out here working,” she said.

“Prepare for another twenty-four to forty-eight hours of bad sleep, then,” Dan said.

“I'm sorry for you, but Joe's sure going to be surprised. I guess this was a blessing. How would he handle pulling calves with one arm?”

“Oh, you know Joe,” Dan said. “He would have found a way. But, fortunately, he probably won't have to until he's got that prosthesis and has a chance to get used to it.”

“Thank the good Lord you haven't had another medical run.”

“I can agree with that. Have you seen a weather report?” Dan asked.

“The snow is expected to stop late Wednesday or into the early hours on Thursday. The airport says they anticipate all Thursday flights will be going out as usual.”

Dan released a long, hard sigh. “That's good.”

“Then why that look?” Elsie asked.

“Beth's got a flight out Thursday afternoon. She needs to be at the airport by Thursday noon at the latest.”

“I guess we'll have to make sure we dig out fast enough to get her there on time, won't we?”

“That's what I said.”

“All we can do is keep praying,” his mother added.

Dan took the thermos. “Thanks for this.” The hot beverage steamed as he poured it into the cup she had provided.

Elsie handed him two sandwiches from her pocket and nodded toward Beth. “Ham and egg on wheat with cheese. Should we wake her?”

“No, she's stubborn. If we wake her, she'll want to dive right back into helping. For some reason she feels she has to pull her weight. She said she won't go in until I do, so we may as well let her sleep.”

“You explained that she's a guest?”

He looked at his mother as he accepted the sandwiches. “Tried that about six hours ago. She counters by telling me she is an uninvited guest.”

Elsie frowned. “Hmm. There's more to Beth than she lets on. She reminds me of you.”

“How's that?”

“You're both holding in more pain than you care to admit.”

Dan's head jerked back at his mother's unnerving comment. She was closer to the truth than he was comfortable admitting. He opened his mouth and then thought better of responding.

“Maybe we can ask Ben about her,” Elsie continued.

“Mom, no, she deserves her privacy.”

“Oh, pooh, the girl is lost, anyone can see that.”

“I wouldn't try that ‘lost' line on Beth, either. I already did. Huge mistake. Trust me.”

“You're a man.”

“Yeah?” He unwrapped a sandwich and eagerly bit in. “Havarti?”

“Yes.” Elsie smiled, obviously pleased that he noticed. “You know, Dan, men approach things differently than women.”

“I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm thinking you just insulted me.”

She chuckled. “I'm merely saying that sometimes a woman can open a door with the diplomacy that men lack.”

“Yeah. You did insult me.”

Elsie laughed again and swatted him. “Oh, hush. Never mind.”

“Good sandwich.”

“Thank you. I have cinnamon rolls baking, so I need to get back to the house.” She glanced at Beth again. “You'd better wake her up soon and send her in.”

“I'm headed in the house for a nap shortly. I'll wake her then.”

Dan shoved the rest of the food into his mouth and picked up the wheelbarrow handles again. Once the feed cakes were distributed he checked on his orphaned calf. All was well in the barn. Rounds completed, he could risk a two-hour nap.

He stood over Beth and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Nothing.

“Beth.” He tried calling her name a bit louder. “Beth.”

She jumped and the chair began to tilt, threatening to crash sideways to the ground as her limbs flailed.

Squatting, Dan caught her in his arms and held her to him.

Beth slowly raised her lashes and met his eyes.

Noses nearly touching, they both froze. Seconds ticked by as her warm breath kissed his face. Dan swallowed. It took every last bit of resolve in him not to touch his lips to her soft inviting mouth.

Instead, he placed his hands on her waist. “You okay now?” he whispered.

She gave a wordless nod, her eyes round, as he released her.

“What happened?” she finally asked, her voice tremulous.

“I was, uh, trying to wake you up.”

“What time is it?” Glancing around the barn, Beth winced and began to massage her neck.

“Five-thirty.”

“That can't be right.”

“'Fraid so.”

Her eyes widened.
“In the morning?”

Dan nodded.

“How long was I sleeping?”

“Only about two hours.” He grabbed the thermos and motioned to the cup.

She shook her head. “No, thanks. Why did you let me sleep?”

“I didn't have the heart to wake you. You were exhausted.”

“You must be, as well,” she countered.

“I'm used to it. You aren't.” Dan tossed her the other sandwich. “Ham and egg with Havarti. Fresh. My mom just made it.”

“Thank you.” Beth opened her mouth to say more and then closed it, without uttering a comeback. She stared at the wrapped food in her hand.

“I'm only trying to do my share,” she said.

“No, you're trying to do your share and six other people's,” Dan returned. “You like to keep the balance sheet in your favor.”

To his surprise Beth gave him a grudging smile. “I never thought of it like that,” she admitted. “Perhaps you're right.”

He grinned, pleased for no good reason. Or maybe because they'd crossed an invisible milestone of trust. He didn't know why that pleased him, since she'd be gone soon, but it did.

Suddenly, the joy that had lightened his heart disappeared.
He really didn't want Beth Rogers to leave.

Chapter Six

B
eth sat down at the light oak, upright piano and stared out at the white landscape. She'd never seen so much snow before. The drifts were even creeping up to the window ledge.

She tossed her damp braid back and massaged her neck before glancing at the clock resting on piano. It was 11:00 a.m. She'd slept five hours, but Dan had barely napped before heading back out. A little longer to dry her hair and she'd go out to help him.

Her thoughts wandered to that moment when he'd woken her up in the barn. What was that, anyhow? Did he almost kiss her? Did she almost
want
him to kiss her?

“You have hair like me.”

Startled, Beth turned to find Dan's daughter standing next to the piano. Today Amy had two tidy braids and wore sparkly pink shoes, and a pink tutu over her jeans and pink sweater. She had accessorized with several strands of plastic pearls that hung around her neck. Beth couldn't help but smile at the outfit.

“Yes. We both have braids today.”

“GG fixed my hair.” Amy smiled as she walked forward to examine Beth's braid.

“I see.” Beth touched the tulle on Amy's tutu. “Are you a dancer?”

Amy nodded. “GG takes me to ballet and tap and jazz at Miss Cathy's. Sometimes Daddy takes me to Denver to see the real ballerinas dance.”

“Your daddy must love you very much.”

Amy nodded again, then paused, squinching up her nose. “Do you know my mother?”

“No. I'm sorry, but I don't.”

The little girl's chin dropped to her chest and she released a pitiful sigh as she stared at the piano keys.

Beth understood that pain. She'd tortured herself with endless questions about her mother, until the day she'd finally found her, with a whole new family. Then all Beth had to do was get over the pain of realizing she was unloved.
And unwanted.

But Amy Gallagher had a family. A family who obviously loved her very much. And Beth was an adult, with a full life and a successful career. So why was it that the sting of abandonment never went away?

Beth touched the smooth, well-worn ivory keys, allowing her index finger to rest on middle C. She pressed the key and the note sang into the room.

The little girl peeked at Beth from beneath her lashes. “Can you play?”

“I think so.”

A shadow of a smile appeared as Amy slid onto the bench next to Beth. “This was my grandpa's piano. Daddy says Grandpa Gee played all the time.”

Beth pressed middle C again. “Do you play?”

“No.” Amy shook her head, offering another sad face.

Beth scooted down the bench, closer to the child. She picked up Amy's small hand and placed it on the keyboard an octave lower. Then she gently placed her finger on Amy's index finger and pressed. “This is low C.”

“Low C,” Amy repeated.

“Yes. Keep your hand there and when I nod my head, you press the key and low C will sing for us.”

The little girl grinned.

Beth found herself slowly playing a song she vaguely remembered from long ago. Though she couldn't recall how she knew the piece, one-by-one the notes came back until she was actually moving through the entire melody, all the while nodding her head to indicate when it was Amy's turn. The short song concluded and Beth stopped, resting her hands in her lap in surprise.

Amy laughed, surprised as well. Her gray eyes sparkled with delight. “I played piano.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Play some more, please.”

“Let's look in the bench and see if there's any music in there.”

“Music in the bench?” Amy hopped off.

Nearly as excited as the little girl, Beth lifted the lid of the wooden seat. Inside were dozens of old sheets of music and several choir songbooks. Beth grabbed a stack of the sheets and sorted through them until she found one that was familiar.

Opening the pages, she placed the booklet neatly on the piano's music rack. She hesitated, then put her hands on the keyboard and began to read the music and play.

“‘The love of Jesus fills my heart with endless joy and gladness.'” Elsie's clear voice filled the air as she entered the room, a towel on her shoulder. “‘Fills my heart with endless joy and
gla-ad-ness
.'”

Beth finished playing the hymn as Elsie sang.

“GG, you know this song?”

“Of course.”

Beth held back a laugh at Elsie's navy sweatshirt embellished with today's quote, Free Contradictions.

“You play nicely, dear,” Elsie said.

“Thank you. I haven't played in years.” Beth closed the music. “I hope you don't mind that I pulled these out.”

“Oh, no, of course not. No one in this house plays anymore.”

“Maybe Dr. Beth can teach me how to play, GG.”

“Hmm, I don't know.” Elsie looked to Beth and winked. “You'd have to be an awfully good girl. And you'd have to ask Dr. Beth.”

When Beth turned to meet Amy's expectant face, she paused, arrested by exactly how much the little girl resembled her father. The eyes were identical, as was her nose and full contagious smile. A mini Dan with braids.

“You know, I'm only here for a few days,” Beth said.

“That's okay. If you can teach me a little bit, then I can teach my dolls.”

“I can do that.”

“What do you say, Amy?” Elsie asked.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you.” Amy launched herself at Beth, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her head against her side in a bear hug.

“Ah!” Beth was taken by surprise, flushed with pleasure and nearly speechless. “You're welcome.” She placed a hand on Amy's back and awkwardly patted her.

Amy straightened and stared intently at Beth for a moment. “And will you come to my special program, too? You can sit up in the front of the 'torium with Daddy and GG.”

Beth looked to Elsie.

“There's a spring program. Amy's class is in it. Friday night.”

“Oh, Amy, I'll be gone Friday night.” Regret weighted upon Beth.

“You said a couple of days,” Amy sniffed.

“Yes, but a couple doesn't last until Friday. I'll be leaving on Thursday. I'm so sorry.” And she was, Beth realized. Very sorry.

Amy's full bottom lip quivered.

“Come on now,” Elsie said to her granddaughter. “Time for you to clean up the playroom. We're supposed to make cookies today, aren't we?”

With a begrudging nod Amy dragged her feet slowly toward the door.

“Maybe Dr. Beth would like to help us make cookies.” Amy stopped and looked up, her expression now hopeful.

“From scratch?” Beth asked.

“Is there any other way?” Elsie asked.

“I've never made cookies from scratch before,” Beth admitted.

Elsie's eyes widened. “Oh, my, my. Then Amy and I will have to teach you how. Right, Amy?”

Amy's mouth curved into a smile.

“What kind of cookies shall we make with Dr. Beth?”

“Snickerdoodles!” Amy said.

“Then snickerdoodles it is. Hurry and put your toys away, first.”

Amy clapped her hands and skipped down the hall.

“Whew, that was close. Glad we turned things around.” Elsie sighed. “Most of the time she's fine, but every now and again she gets a little needy. Little girls sometimes just want their momma, period.” She met Beth's gaze. “What kind of mother abandons her child, do you suppose?”

Beth licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly feeling queasy. “I, um, good question.”

“I suppose we should just be thankful that she gave Dan full custody.”

“He's a good father,” Beth murmured.

“Yes. The trouble is, Dan's so afraid of making a mistake again that he guards his heart and Amy like a momma bear.”

“Don't you think that's natural?”

“Perhaps. But I can tell you this, there are half a dozen women in Paradise who would be happy to step in and remedy the situation. Dan won't have any part of it, however.”

“It?” Beth asked, though she knew she shouldn't. Talking about Dan behind his back made her very uncomfortable.

“Oh, you know. Matchmaking. He claims that what happened with Amy's mother is the past, but in my opinion, he sure doesn't seem to be moving on.” Elsie shrugged and then gave a little chuckle. “Of course, I have an opinion on everything.”

Beth stood and replaced the sheet music inside the bench, carefully closing the lid.

“Are you and Dr. Ben close?” Elsie asked.

“Hmm?” Beth looked at her, unsure how to answer the question. “Close? I don't really know.”

“You weren't at the wedding.”

“I was under contract in Los Angeles. I couldn't get away.”

“Family is important,” Dan's mother observed.

Beth nodded, not sure how to respond. Such talk was always awkward.

Yes, she knew family was very important. Then again, she'd done fine—better than fine—without one, hadn't she?

“Now I'm curious. How is it you lived with Ben's family and never made cookies?” Elsie asked.

“I only lived with them for my senior year of high school, and, well, let's just say that it really wasn't my finest hour.”

“Well, dear, I can tell you after raising four children, the teenage years aren't anyone's finest hour.” Elsie paused and rubbed her sternum.

“Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Gallagher?”

“A little heartburn. I knew I shouldn't have added that red pepper to my soup.” She smiled. “No worries. I'll have some milk and be fine.”

The front door opened and Dan's booted feet could be heard coming down the hallway. Both women turned to look as he appeared.

“What?” he asked, his gaze taking in both of them.

“Nothing. Beth and I were merely chatting.”

Dan narrowed his eyes at his mother and shook his head.

“You look exhausted. Is everything all right?” Elsie asked.

“Sure, I'm just knee-deep in fun.”

“Do you want me to call Joe? Maybe he'll have suggestions.”

“Yeah, he'll suggest I man up.” Dan laughed. “Not a thing that Joe can do long-distance. Besides, I can handle knee-deep. When I get waist-deep, then I'll consider calling my big brother so he can give me a dose of patronization.”

Elsie looked at Beth. “Brotherly competition. They've been like this all their lives.” She turned back to him. “What's the plan?”

“Plan? I'm putting out fires. No time for a plan. I've got another breech waiting on me and a nervous heifer refusing to come into the barn.”

“Breech? Is birth imminent?” Elsie asked.

“I have some time. I want to get the orphaned calf fed, and then I'm thinking we're due for a nice lull.”

“I'll help,” Beth said.

The tension in Dan's jaw eased. “That would be great. Same procedure as before. If you want to take over the next two feedings, well, that sure would be a big help.”

“Absolutely,” Beth said.

“Don't let her overwork herself this time, Dan.”

“Who, me? I think Dr. Rogers likes being overworked.”

Dan smiled, looking all the more attractive, despite his red eyes and stubble. This was a smile that was just for her, and it set off a funny tingle inside Beth, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Dan Gallagher thought he knew her, and that was worrisome. Yes, she liked to work, but she liked being needed even more. Dan needed her today. The key was to know when she wasn't needed anymore and to move on before she was left behind.

* * *

A thick cookbook, stuffed with scraps of paper, lay open on the kitchen table when Beth walked into the room. Amy knelt on a chair, her chin resting on her hands and her corduroy-clad bottom in the air as she waited patiently for the baking to begin.

“Where's your grandmother?” Beth asked.

Amy sighed. “An important phone call from the ladies zillery.”

“The what?”

“The Paradise Ladies Auxiliary,” Elsie said as she walked into the kitchen. “I'm sorry, Beth, but it actually
is
important. They're on hold. Do you mind?”

“Oh, no problem. I'll come back.”

“No need. You can start without me.”

“But I've never...”

Elsie waved a hand. “The recipe is right there. Measure out the ingredients. Amy can show you where everything is. By then I'll be done. If I can get Bitsy Harmony to stop talking, that is.”

When Elsie left the room, Beth turned to Amy. “I am confident we can do this.”

“What does
confident
mean?”

“It means that if I can insert a triple lumen subclavian catheter in the carotid artery of a combative patient, the first time, then surely I can make snickerdoodles.”

Beth read through the ingredients and looked up at Amy. “Measuring cup?”

Amy pointed to a cupboard.

Beth pulled out a large, five-cup glass measuring bowl with a spout. “Measuring spoons? Spatula?”

Her assistant hopped off the chair and pulled open a drawer. “Here.”

“You're very good at this.”

“GG showed me how to bake.”

“Do you know what cream of tartar is?”

“No.” Amy shook her head.

“Neither do I, but I hope we can find it in the refrigerator.” She pulled open the door of the large side-by-side stainless steel fridge and examined containers of cream, tartar sauce, yogurt and milk. “No cream of tartar.” She shut the door. “Let's do the flour and sugar. That's easy.”

Amy raced to another cupboard and tugged open the double doors.

“Thank you.” Beth took out a canister of flour and another of sugar. Then she looked through the spices. “Hey, cream of tartar. Who knew?” She grabbed the vanilla, salt and other seasonings and placed them on the table.

“Can I help?” Amy asked, as she resumed her position on the chair.