Page 16 of Wylder Ranch
“Baby steps, am I right?”
“Baby steps.” I nod.
“Now, how about you give me Everly when she’s done feeding, while you go and shower.”
Immediately, I stiffen. For all intents and purposes, this woman is a stranger, and I’m in her brother’s house. I’ve never left Everly with anyone I didn’t know. Because that’s crazy. But she’s not to be deterred.
“It’s okay. I’ll look after her. Guard her with my life. I swear. I’ll take you up, show you the shower, and find you some clean clothes.” Clemmie says the magic word—clean—and immediately senses weakness. “Come on, I promise she’ll be fine.”
As though Everly heard and understood, her mouth loosens, and she turns away quickly enough that milk shoots out of me and hits Clementine. I can’t even findit in me to be humiliated. I once again hold her over my shoulder and attempt to coax a burp. If I’m going to get clean, there’s no harm in getting covered in another round of rejected breast milk.
“Okay, thank you, but I really don’t need a full change of clothes. Just a sweater would be great.”
“Absolutely, follow me.”
The upstairs is just as cute as the downstairs, and much tidier. Clemmie leads me along a narrow corridor with such a low roof that I wonder how Miles isn’t permanently bent at the neck or covered in bumps to the head. Passing a couple of bedrooms, including one with the largest four-poster bed I’ve ever seen, we reach a huge bathroom at the end, featuring a roll-top bath and a double walk-in shower.
“Here you are.” Clemmie sweeps her hand around. “Take your time. Miles ordered this ridiculous shower from Japan, and it’s designed to target sore muscles. Feel free to take advantage. Let me run and grab you a few things, then I’ll leave you in peace.”
When she goes, I peer out of the window to find a backyard as pretty as the front. It’s fall now, but I can imagine the trees plentiful with fruit in the summer months. Miles must have help with it. He doesn’t strike me as the type of person who’d cultivate fruit trees or prune bushes.
“Here you go,” Clementine announces on her return, placing a basket on the vanity unit.
“Everything you need is in here. And we’ll be waiting downstairs when you’re ready. But seriously, no rush.”
I smile gratefully. “Thank you.”
For a second, I forget she’s taking Everly downstairs, and I wonder why she’s standing there holding her hands out like she’s waiting for me to tip her.
“Oh, right.” Stepping forward with bated breath, I ease my baby out of my arms and into Clementine’s. I try not to take it personally when she doesn’t fuss. “Just. . . if she gets antsy, rub her back . . . and she sometimes likes her tush patted, or you know . . .” I can see Clementine is being patient with me, which only makes me feel like a dumbass,gah. “Okay, I won’t be long.”
“We’ll be okay, don’t worry.” Clementine smiles and leaves me alone, closing the door behind her.
Switching on the shower that sprays jets of water from all angles, I strip off as it heats. Then because I’ve becometotally neurotic, I open the bathroom door a fraction just so I can hear Everly if she starts crying.
I mean to be quick—a lightning-quick body shower at the most—but Clementine’s basket is laid out with shampoo, conditioner, and a hairdryer, along with a cozy navy sweater embroidered with the words Foxleigh Park on one side. It’s all far too tempting.
I used to love long showers, but since Everly came along, I’ve rushed through them, too scared to leave her on her own. But stepping under the hot water, the first hit of it pummeling my shoulders and back from all angles, some of the tension in my muscles melts away.
By the time I’m done, the mirror and windows are running with condensation, and I feel almost human again. And not once have I heard Everly cry.
But when I head back down to the kitchen, the sound of a male voice makes me pause. Then I realize it’s not Alex. It doesn’t have that soothing baritone rumble Alex’s does. It’s Miles, and he’s holding a cup of tea in one hand and the baby in the other.
More accurately, he’s cradling her in his arms, swaying from side to side as she stares up at him. She’s completely mesmerized.
Clemmie notices me standing in the kitchen doorway and rolls her eyes, throwing out a, “Don’t worry, Miles is great with babies,” as an explanation.
“Women.I’m great withwomen,” he corrects in a soft voice, putting down his cup.
“I’ve heard,” I mutter, sitting back in the chair I’d vacated. I pick up the tea I’d also left and go to sip it, but Clemmie snatches it from my hand before it meets my lips.
“Urgh, no. I’ll get you a fresh one.”
“So Haven from Aspen. Long time, no see.” Miles flashes his perfect white teeth at me. “What have you been up to?”
“Well. . . I had a baby.”
“I see that,” he replies, as another steaming cup of English tea is set down in front of me.
