overshadowed most of the good memories he’d had.
And too
quickly, his own marriage spiraled into something too frighteningly close to
what he'd known as a kid. No, alcohol and drugs weren’t to blame. But the
honeymoon was over before it even began, and instead of loving each other, he
and Lillian spent those weeks fighting, mostly over money. When he'd walked
through the door that day and found Lillian with her “company”, he boiled over
so strong that he’d actually seen his father in himself. And it scared the
hell out of him.
But instead of
unleashing his anger the way he knew his old man would, Mitch had simply walked
away, not even giving Lillian the opportunity to come to him and explain. She
didn't protest either, which said a lot for the love they supposedly shared.
He pushed those recent memories aside and thought of his childhood.
“My grandfather
really tried to help my father but Dad was too concerned with a quick buck, an
easy card game and the booze. He lost more than he won and spent whatever he
did make on everything but his family. If I wanted something, my grandfather
made me earn it. Even though he had some money, there were no free rides. He
taught me a lot.”
“Was he a
rancher, too?”
“No, I never
really knew what he did. He invested his money mostly.”
She chuckled
softly and he felt his heart swell with the musical sound. “Then how on earth
did an Irish city boy from Baltimore become a cowboy?”
Mitch grinned
and shrugged. “Fate, I guess. I was at the critical crossroads age where I
could have easily slipped down the wrong path. I didn't trust anyone and was
good at picking a fight for no reason, because that's all I knew. When I was
about thirteen, Grandpa took me to a dude ranch the first few weeks I was here
in Texas. And as miserable as I was to be away from home, he saw how much I
loved being on that ranch. The work was good. It let me get out that teenage
frustration eating me up. Something took hold of me. Grandpa told me if I
worked hard, I could have a ranch for my own one day. I could do anything I
wanted to do as long as I didn't follow in my old man's footsteps.”
“And you
haven't.”
It almost
looked like pride shining in her eyes, Mitch thought. Warmth spread from deep
in his chest outward until emotion lodged in his throat. He'd convinced
himself early on in life he didn't need anyone. His grandfather had taught
him, even before he'd come to Texas to live with him, that he was strong and
could accomplish anything he put his mind to. He needed to rely on himself to
survive.
Having Sara
gaze at him with huge brown eyes filled with such admiration touched a place in
his soul he didn't even know existed.
The room
suddenly seemed to crackle with tension. His eyes focused on her lips, and the
smooth plains of her cheeks.
Sara must have
felt it too. She abruptly cleared her throat and looked at him teasingly.
“Well, Mr.
Broader, since you've become a pro at feeding Jonathan his bottle. Tomorrow
we'll move on to changing his diaper.”
“I just got
used to holding him and giving him a bottle. The next thing you'll want is for
me to give him a bath.”
She tossed him
a wicked grin. “That's the spirit.”
# # #
Chapter Four
“How are you
two doing in there?” Sara asked, trying her best to keep from plowing into the
bathroom where Mitch was giving Jonathan his first bath solo. She paced the
hallway, holding a clean diaper and sleeper to put the baby in after Mitch was
done drying the Jonathan off with a towel.
Given the
grunts and splashes she heard, Sara wanted nothing more than to march right in
the bathroom and take over. But she held herself back. After two nights of
bathing Jonathan, and insisting Mitch stand by to just watch, Mitch had
announced “the boys” would give it a try on their own tonight so Sara could put
her feet up and relax.
Fat chance
And too
quickly, his own marriage spiraled into something too frighteningly close to
what he'd known as a kid. No, alcohol and drugs weren’t to blame. But the
honeymoon was over before it even began, and instead of loving each other, he
and Lillian spent those weeks fighting, mostly over money. When he'd walked
through the door that day and found Lillian with her “company”, he boiled over
so strong that he’d actually seen his father in himself. And it scared the
hell out of him.
But instead of
unleashing his anger the way he knew his old man would, Mitch had simply walked
away, not even giving Lillian the opportunity to come to him and explain. She
didn't protest either, which said a lot for the love they supposedly shared.
He pushed those recent memories aside and thought of his childhood.
“My grandfather
really tried to help my father but Dad was too concerned with a quick buck, an
easy card game and the booze. He lost more than he won and spent whatever he
did make on everything but his family. If I wanted something, my grandfather
made me earn it. Even though he had some money, there were no free rides. He
taught me a lot.”
“Was he a
rancher, too?”
“No, I never
really knew what he did. He invested his money mostly.”
She chuckled
softly and he felt his heart swell with the musical sound. “Then how on earth
did an Irish city boy from Baltimore become a cowboy?”
Mitch grinned
and shrugged. “Fate, I guess. I was at the critical crossroads age where I
could have easily slipped down the wrong path. I didn't trust anyone and was
good at picking a fight for no reason, because that's all I knew. When I was
about thirteen, Grandpa took me to a dude ranch the first few weeks I was here
in Texas. And as miserable as I was to be away from home, he saw how much I
loved being on that ranch. The work was good. It let me get out that teenage
frustration eating me up. Something took hold of me. Grandpa told me if I
worked hard, I could have a ranch for my own one day. I could do anything I
wanted to do as long as I didn't follow in my old man's footsteps.”
“And you
haven't.”
It almost
looked like pride shining in her eyes, Mitch thought. Warmth spread from deep
in his chest outward until emotion lodged in his throat. He'd convinced
himself early on in life he didn't need anyone. His grandfather had taught
him, even before he'd come to Texas to live with him, that he was strong and
could accomplish anything he put his mind to. He needed to rely on himself to
survive.
Having Sara
gaze at him with huge brown eyes filled with such admiration touched a place in
his soul he didn't even know existed.
The room
suddenly seemed to crackle with tension. His eyes focused on her lips, and the
smooth plains of her cheeks.
Sara must have
felt it too. She abruptly cleared her throat and looked at him teasingly.
“Well, Mr.
Broader, since you've become a pro at feeding Jonathan his bottle. Tomorrow
we'll move on to changing his diaper.”
“I just got
used to holding him and giving him a bottle. The next thing you'll want is for
me to give him a bath.”
She tossed him
a wicked grin. “That's the spirit.”
# # #
Chapter Four
“How are you
two doing in there?” Sara asked, trying her best to keep from plowing into the
bathroom where Mitch was giving Jonathan his first bath solo. She paced the
hallway, holding a clean diaper and sleeper to put the baby in after Mitch was
done drying the Jonathan off with a towel.
Given the
grunts and splashes she heard, Sara wanted nothing more than to march right in
the bathroom and take over. But she held herself back. After two nights of
bathing Jonathan, and insisting Mitch stand by to just watch, Mitch had
announced “the boys” would give it a try on their own tonight so Sara could put
her feet up and relax.
Fat chance
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