Fiance Wanted! by Ruth Jean Dale

Author:Ruth Jean Dale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

“SO I DON’T THINK we should have to go to bed until Daddy calls and tells us the baby’s born,” Jessica concluded a lengthy argument. She looked expectantly at Katy.

Who yawned. “Jessica Reynolds, it’s past ten o’clock now. Consider yourself lucky I let you stay up this long.” She frowned. “I wonder what’s keeping Mrs. Brown?”

“She’ll be along soon,” Dylan predicted. That Jessica was a real talker! The girl had been carrying on a non-stop monologue for the last ten minutes. Zach was the smart one; he’d tuned his sister out and lay dozing on the sofa, while Katy feigned interest.

Or maybe she really was interested. Both talker and talkee were female, after all.

Yawns, however, were catching. Dylan let loose with one of his own. Katy saw it and snapped to attention.

“If you’re bored, you don’t have to wait,” she said. “I’ll watch the kids until the sitter arrives.”

“What makes you think I’m—”

“You yawned.”

“So what? You yawned first. Are you bored?”

“Certainly not.” She sniffed imperiously. “But women are just naturally more interested in this sort of thing—you know, babies being born. Far be it from me to—”

The pealing of the doorbell cut her off mid-tirade and he went to answer. Mrs. Brown stood there, all smiles beneath the porch light. Dylan let her in, then followed her back to the family room.

“Oh, my goodness!” the grandmotherly woman exclaimed. “Is it time already?”

Jessica looked suspicious. “Time for babies to be born or time for kids to go to bed?”

Mrs. Brown laughed. “Both, I would say. Wake up your little brother and—”

“I’ll carry him,” Dylan interrupted quickly.

Mrs. Brown shook her head. “No need. He’s used to walking.”

“I want to carry him.” Dylan stepped up to the sofa, leaned down and eased the sleeping boy into his arms. Straightening, he looked at the fair hair and the soft little face. Something stirred inside him and for a moment, he didn’t understand.

Then when he did, he didn’t like it. Because although he might hunger for a son and heir, he didn’t hunger for a wife.

“Dylan,” Katy said softly, “Mrs. Brown is waiting.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Carrying the sleeping boy, Dylan followed the babysitter down the hallway, wondering at the black magic that had made him, just for a moment, think of Katy Andrews with a desire that clenched his gut.

Anyone but her, he thought, lowering the boy into the bed already turned back by the sitter. Anyone at all.

Except maybe Brandee Haycox.

Or his ex-wife—ah, to heck with it. He’d had a strange evening, that was all.

In the clear light of day, he’d see Katy for what she really was.

Whatever that might be.

“Just drop me off at the hospital,” Katy instructed as they passed through the dark and sleeping streets of Rawhide. “I’ll bum a ride home later, or Matt can take me once the baby comes.”

“The hell I will.”

She looked at him, surprised by his vehemence. In the glow of the instrument panel, he appeared downright foreboding. “Let me out here, then, if that will please you! I don’t want to go home.

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