Page 7 of A Surprise Wedding for the Cowboy

“Poor baby. He’s had a lot of trauma.” Stephanie ran her hand over the boy’s blond fluff.

Jamie grinned at her, kicking his legs. “Mama.”

Stephanie shouldn’t let her heart melt at that. She wasn’t his mom. Never would be. But wouldn’t it be fun to pretend? She shook her head slightly at the thought. Pretending was what had gotten her into this mess. Pretending Eli would come around. Pretending she could manage a guy like Robert.

God had intervened on that one, if she could blame God for the car damage caused by her distracted driving. She’d texted Robert and told him she’d been in a minor accident and wouldn’t make it to their rendezvous. Never mind she was mere blocks away. She wasn’t going to meet up with a man she didn’t know who assumed the night would end with sex.

She’d been stupid. Like a turtle, safe in her little shell, who stuck her neck out and watched a knife slash toward her neck. Nope. She’d withdraw, thanks, anyway. Maybe she’d poke out and look around again, but she’d be more careful next time. There were online dating sites for Christians. She didn’t have to go crazy here.

Or there was a perfectly fine gentleman across the table from her, a man with a cutie-pie toddler he hadn’t planned on raising. A man moving to her part of Montana.

Stephanie set a few of her leftover French fries in front of Jamie and turned to Tate. “How long will you be in Jewel Lake?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. My grandfather called us all together for a meeting at the ranch tomorrow afternoon at three. Right now, I have little to go on. The old guy comes up with all kinds of random ideas. He’s usually pretty astute, but I have no idea where he’s going with this one.”

“He wants to turn you into a cowboy?”

Tate laughed. “Not happening. I’m a city boy and proud to say so. I’ll take the Windy City any day of the week, especially after hanging out in the middle of Kansas since Thanksgiving. The only excitement there in the throes of winter is Gilead Bible College’s annual passion play.” He tapped his chest. “Meet Simon Peter, the rock. Only, hopefully, not quite as quick to speak out about things he knows nothing about.”

“You played Peter in an Easter play? Oh, wow, that must have been an awesome experience.”

“It was pretty cool. Made some good friends, guys I wouldn’t have met otherwise. Anyway, I survived the winter in Kansas, but I can’t wait to get back to my place in Chicago. And figure out how to toddler-proof it, I guess. And line up a nanny. And…” His voice drifted off as he shook his head, grimacing.

She couldn’t help herself but reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “You’ll do fine. I know you will. You’re doing the best you can and trusting God for the rest.”

Those eyes sucked her in. She could drown in their chocolatey depths. Also, she was touching him as though she had a right to.

Stephanie snatched her hand back. “Sorry.”

His gaze refused to let her go. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

If only she could believe that.

Chapter Three

Tate stared up at the hotel room ceiling. He’d pretended to be asleep when Stephanie had come through his room half an hour ago, since Jamie was finally snoozing again and only a vague hint of impending daylight crept in through the crack in the drapes.

What was he doing here? Here, in all the ways. Butte, Montana, rushing off to facilitate another of Grandfather’s shenanigans. Acting like he knew what he was doing with an eighteen-month-old. And inviting a woman he didn’t even know to share a hotel suite with him.

He was in way over his head, like a kid who couldn’t swim being thrown in the deep end. “Lord?” he whispered. “Can You toss me a life preserver? I’m sinking, and that’s not an option. Not with Jamie dependent on me like this.”

Maybe he’d expected his mother to argue when he’d offered to take Jamie. To insist she could manage. That she wanted to manage. Wally and Ashley had left their little guy with Mom for the weekend when they headed off to a marriage enrichment seminar along with Ashley’s sister and brother-in-law. Lana and Anthony had been named in their will to raise Jamie if the worst happened.

Well, the worst had happened and taken all four of them. No one had been named as backup guardians. Ashley’s parents had lost both their daughters in one devastating helicopter disaster, and they were in no position to take on a toddler. So, Jamie had just stayed with his grandmother. And stayed.

Tate had gone to Gilead for the funeral — all of them had — but he seemed to be the only one who’d noticed how much his mother was struggling. On impulse, he’d decided to work from Gilead for a while and help out with Jamie. They’d bonded. Mom’s anxiety had worsened until it seemed obvious to Tate that he was Jamie’s best bet, long term.

And here they were.

With a strange woman in their hotel suite.

Tate shook his head then glanced at the clock. It was six — seven in Kansas. He should get a quick shower while Jamie still slept. Quietly, he gathered fresh clothes from his overnight bag and headed into the bathroom.

When he returned, Jamie sat in the playpen in his sleep sack, sucking his thumb, looking around. His eyes brightened when he saw Tate, and his hands stretched up.

Tate pulled the little guy into his arms. “Hey, shorty. Did you have a good sleep?”

Jamie snuggled into the crook of Tate’s neck. The kid stank. Great.

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