Page 23 of Cowboy Stalker
She makes a big breakfast, and we eat together at her table family-style. It’s nice to have people to share a meal with, and I love that Dorothy got a highchair for Daisy. It’s been on my list to get since she started sitting upright without any assistance.
When we’re done, Dorothy goes to continue her farm chores. Griffin cleans the kitchen while I wrangle Daisy into clean clothes. She got the baby cereal she’s been trying everywhere. She doesn’t seem to care too much about the taste. She loves making a mess with it.
It takes a bath to get all of the tiny flakes out of her hair and when I’m done, I dress her in her cutest outfit. It’s little suspenders with blue birds on them. I add a floppy sun hat and smear some baby-safe sunscreen on the tip of her tiny nose. “Do you want to see some farm animals today?”
She gurgles, which I take as a yes, and we return to a spotless kitchen.
Griffin’s gaze rakes over my figure. My T-shirt is wet, splashed from the bath. But we’re about to go out into the hot August sun so I don’t mind. Guessing by the way he’s staring, he does mind. “Honey, you need to change.”
“It’ll dry,” I quickly reassure him. “Besides, I can’t change every time Daisy splashes me or makes a mess.”
He stalks across the kitchen floor and grabs my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. “The ranch hands are going to see you. I don’t want to blind every man who lays eyes on you, but I’m not afraid to do it. These luscious curves are just for me. Got it?”
I love the possessive glint in his gaze, the way he looks furious at the idea of another man seeing me. “I’m yours. I’m not interested in anyone else. There’s only you.”
His jaw is still tight, and his hold is still ironclad. “That’s good to know, but it ain’t you I’m thinking about. A man would have to be crazy not to want you.”
“And stupid if he made a pass at me,” I point out.
“More like dead. Now get out of this wet T-shirt, so we can leave,” he says.
I chuckle and do as he said. I don’t want to delay us leaving the farm, and if I’m honest, I’m delighted by how possessive he is. I love that he’s obsessed with keeping me safe and is convinced that every guy wants me.
I return less than a minute later in a new shirt. “All dry now.”
He grunts, and I’m pretty sure he mutters something about making all of the ranch hands wear blindfolds now. He’s joking, I think.
He starts our tour with the chickens and shows me how to put out feed. I watch the way they peck the ground so eagerly.
“These are free-range chickens,” he explains. “They have plenty of room to move about. They’re not kept caged their whole lives. It’s always been important to Aunt Dorothy that we treat the animals with respect. It’s something she instilled in me from a young age.”
“I can’t imagine the work she puts in to keep this place running.” It’s early mornings and late nights and constant chores. Yet her love of the land and the animals keeps her going.
“She is a force to be reckoned with,” he agrees. After the chickens, he takes us to the pasture and points out the different cows to Daisy.
He talks to her as if she can understand every single word. She blows spit bubbles and grins at him, proud of her newfound talent. She looks extra small in his big, burly arms.
He shows us the fields where the crops are planted and the workshop where the heavy machinery is stored.
“You won’t be here too often,” he explains to Daisy. “At least, not until you’re big enough to help me repair the tractors.”
I can’t help smiling at that, thinking about how lucky Daisy is going to be to grow up around this beautiful farm. She’ll get to learn how to milk cows, feed chickens, and fix tractors with Griffin.
The next stop on our tour of the farm is the barn. He introduces us to Belle, an old mare that’s gentle. He takes Daisy’s hand and helps her stroke the horse’s soft coat. It feels like velvet, and I love the way she neighs.
When Daisy goes to grab a handful of her mane, Griffin is quick to intercept her. She giggles, tugging on his bushy beard instead.
After our tour, we settle in the long grass outside for a picnic lunch of cold-cut sandwiches and chips. The generous tomato slices and crunchy lettuce are both fresh from Dorothy’s garden. It’s the best sandwich I’ve ever had, and I wash it down with another glass of sweet tea.
Nearby, the ducks quack as they splash in the pond, and I watch their antics, amused. “Don’t worry,” Griffin says. “I’ll teach her how to swim.”
“I may need a few lessons of my own,” I tell him, as I watch Daisy push up onto her hands and knees. She’s been doing this lately. She pushes up then rocks side to side. But this time, instead of rocking side to side, she pulls herself forward. She only manages an inch or two before she collapses back onto the blanket.
I meet Griffin’s gaze, my heart in my throat.
“Our daughter is crawling,” he says, awe and wonder filling his voice. This is the precious moment when I realize that we’re a family now.
Chapter 10
