The Rancher's Christmas Promise Page 5

  Such was the life of a public defender. Or in her case, the life of a public defender who got to do all the prep but rarely actually got to defend. It was up to Greer to prepare briefs, schedule conferences, take depositions and hunt down reluctant witnesses when she had to. She was the one who negotiated the plea deals that meant Don typically only had to show up in the office on Thursdays, when most of the trials were scheduled. She’d gotten a few bench trials, but thanks to Don and his buddy-buddy relationship with Michael Towers, their boss and the supervising attorney for the region, her experience in front of a jury was limited.

  She also photocopied the case files and made the coffee.

  But if Don were to ever leave...

  She exhaled, pushing the unlikely possibility out of her mind, and sent off her message to the prosecutor. The rest of her email would have to wait. She shoved everything she would likely need into her bulging briefcase, grabbed the blazer that went with her skirt and hurried out of her office.

  Michael was sitting behind his desk when she stuck her head in his office. “Any news yet on a new intern?” Their office hadn’t had one for three months. Which was one of the reasons Greer had been on coffee and photocopy duty.

  He shook his head, looking annoyed. Which for Michael was pretty much the status quo. “I have three other jurisdictions needing interns, too. When there’s something you need to know, I’ll tell you. Until then, do your job.”

  She managed not to bare her teeth at him and continued on her way. She didn’t stop as she waved at Michael’s wife, Bernice, who’d been filling in for the secretary they couldn’t afford to hire, even though she hopped up and scurried after her long enough to push a stack of pink message slips into the outer pocket of Greer’s briefcase.

  “Thanks, Bunny.”

  Greer left the civic plaza for the short walk to the courthouse. It was handy that the buildings were located within a few blocks of each other. It meant that she could leave her car in the capable hands of her dad for the day. Carter Templeton was retired with too much time on his hands and he’d offered to look at it. He might have spent most of his life in an office as an insurance broker, but there wasn’t much that Carter couldn’t fix when he wanted to. Which was a good thing for Greer, because she was presently pretty broke.

  She was pretty broke almost all of the time.

  It was something she’d expected when she’d taken the job with the public defender’s office. And money had gotten even tighter when she’d thrown in with her two sisters to buy the fixer-upper Victorian—in which she was the only one still living. She couldn’t very well start complaining about it now, though.

  The irony was that both Maddie and Ali could now put whatever money they wanted into the house since they’d both married men who could afford to indulge their every little wish.

  Now it was just Greer who was holding up the works.

  She’d already remodeled her bedroom and bathroom when they’d first moved in. The rest of the house was in a terrible state of disrepair, though. But if she couldn’t afford her fair third of the cost, then the work had to wait until she could.

  She sidestepped a woman pushing a baby stroller on the sidewalk and jogged up the steps to the courthouse. There were thirty-two of them, in sets of eight. When she’d first started out, running up the steps had left her breathless. Six years later, she barely noticed them.

  Inside, she joined the line at security and slid her bare arms into her navy blue blazer. Once through, she jogged up two more full flights of gleaming marble stairs to the third floor.

  She slipped into Judge Waters’s courtroom with two minutes to spare and was standing at the defendant’s table with her files stacked in front of her before the judge entered, wearing his typically dour expression.

  He looked over his half glasses. “Oh, goody.” His voice was humorless as he took his seat behind the bench. “All of my favorite people are here. Actually on time for once.” He poured himself a glass of water and shook out several antacid tablets from the economy-sized bottle sitting beside the water. “All right. As y’all ought to know by now, we’ll break at noon and not a minute before. So don’t bother asking. If you’re not lucky enough to be out of the court’s hair by noon, we’ll resume at half past one and not one minute after.”

  He eyed the line of defendants waiting to be arraigned. They sat shoulder to shoulder, crammed into the hardwood bench adjacent to the defendant’s table where Greer stood. After this group, there was another waiting, just as large.

  Judge Waters shoved the tablets into his mouth. “Let’s get started,” he said around his crunching.

  All in all, it was a pretty normal morning.

  * * *

  Normal ended at exactly twelve fifty-five.

  She knew it, because the big clock on the corner of Braden Bank & Trust was right overhead when she spotted Ryder Wilson walking down the street.

  He was carrying Layla.

  Greer’s heart nearly stopped beating. Heedless of traffic, she bolted across Main Street to intercept him.

  A fine idea in theory. But she was wearing high heels and a narrow skirt, and had a ten-pound briefcase banging against her hip with every step she took. Speedy, she was not.

  He’d reached the corner and would soon be out of sight.

  She’d run track in high school, for God’s sake.

  She hopped around as she pulled off her pumps, and chased after him barefoot.

  The cement was hot under her feet as she rounded the corner and spotted him pulling open the door to Braden Drugs halfway down the block.

  “Ryder!”

  He hesitated, glancing around over his shoulder, then let go of the door and waited for her.

  “Hi!” She was more breathless from the sight of Layla than from the mad dash, and barely looked up at Ryder as she stopped. She knew her smile was too wide but couldn’t do a thing about it as she leaned closer to Layla. “Hi, sweetheart. Look at you in your pretty pink sundress. You probably don’t even remember me. But I sure remember you.”

  Layla waved the pink sippy cup by the handle she was clutching and showed off her pearly white teeth as she babbled nonsensically.

  Everything inside Greer seized up. She wanted to take the baby in her arms so badly it hurt. She contented herself with stroking the tot’s velvety cheek with her shaking fingertip. “I sure have missed you.” The words came out sounding husky, and she cleared her throat before looking up at Ryder.

  He was looking back at her warily, which she supposed she deserved, after chasing him down the way she had.

  “What brings the two of you to town?”

  He looked beyond her to the drugstore. “She’s got some special vitamin stuff she’s supposed to have. Aren’t your feet burning?”

  She looked down and felt the searing heat that was only slightly less intense than the heat that filled her cheeks. She quickly leaned over, putting her shoes back on. “Probably looks a little silly.”

  “Yep.”

  She huffed. “You didn’t have to agree. Do you always say what you’re thinking?”

  “Not necessarily.” His eyebrows quirked. It was her only hint that he was amused. “But I generally say what I mean.”

  Layla babbled and smacked the sippy cup against Greer’s arm. “I think I recognize that cup,” Greer said to her.

  Layla jabbered back. Her bright green eyes latched onto Greer’s.

  She felt tears coming on. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.” The huskiness was back in her voice.

  “You want to hold her?”

  Now, given the opportunity, Greer was suddenly hesitant. “I don’t know if she’ll remember me. She might not—”

  He dumped the baby in her arms.

  Layla smiled brightly. She didn’t care in the least that Greer’s vision was blurred by tears as she look
ed down at her.

  Greer wrapped her arms around the baby and cuddled her. “I thought she’d be heavier.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against Layla’s soft hair. “Nothing smells better,” she murmured.

  Ryder snorted slightly. “Sure, when she’s not fillin’ her diaper with something out of a horror flick.”

  Greer smiled. She caught Layla’s fist and kissed it. “What’s Daddy talking about, huh, baby? You’re too perfect for anything like that.”

  “Excuse me.”

  They both looked over to see an elderly woman waiting to enter the door they were blocking.

  “Sorry.” Greer quickly moved out of the way while Ryder opened the door for her.

  The woman beamed at him as she shuffled into the drugstore. “Thank you. It’s so nice to see young families spend time together these days.”

  Greer bit the inside of her cheek, stifling the impulse to correct her. It was the same tactic she’d used many times in the courtroom.

  Ryder let the door close after the woman. “Proof that appearances are deceiving.”

  Greer managed a smile. She was suddenly very aware of the time passing, but she didn’t want to look at her watch or give up holding Layla a second sooner than she needed to. “What’s special about the vitamins?”

  He shrugged. “Something her pediatrician has her taking.”

  “Do you still take her to my uncle?” David Templeton’s pediatrics practice in Braden was older than Greer. He’d been the first one to see Layla when Lincoln had discovered her left on the mansion’s doorstep last December.

  “You mean he hasn’t told you?”

  She gave him a look. “Wouldn’t be very professional for him to talk about his patients to outsiders. And like it or not, that’s what we are these days.”

  Ryder’s lips formed a thin line.

  Layla suddenly sighed deeply and plopped her head on Greer’s shoulder.

  Greer rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve heard about the nanny problems you’ve had.”

  “How?”

  She stepped out of the way again when the shop door opened and a woman pushing two toddlers in a stroller came out. “Braden is a small town. Word gets around.” She turned slightly so that Layla wasn’t positioned directly in the sun. “Nannies don’t hold to the same principles of confidentiality that a pediatrician’s office does.”

  His lips twisted. “S’pose not.” He reached for Layla, his hands brushing against Greer’s bare arms as he lifted the tot away from her.

  It was insane to feel suddenly shivery on what was such an infernally hot day.

  She adjusted the wide bracelet-style watch on her wrist and wanted to curse. She was late getting back to the courthouse. On foot from here, it would take at least twenty minutes. “I still feel I owe you a favor for helping me this weekend with my car.”

  “Was it the thermostat?”

  “I don’t know yet. My dad is looking at it. He’s pretty good with cars. I told him what you thought, though.” She shifted from one foot to the other and smoothed her hand down the front of her blouse, where it was tucked into the waist of her skirt. He’d taken a step toward the drugstore. “Maybe I could help you on the nanny front,” she offered quickly.

  “You?” He sounded incredulous. “Kind of a comedown in the world from lawyering to nannying, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t mean me personally.” She worked hard to keep from sounding as offended as she felt. She might not have a lot of experience with babies, but Layla wasn’t just any baby, either. “I mean with advertising for a nanny. I’m on a lot of loops because of my work. I could post ads if you wanted.”

  His blue eyes gave away none of his thoughts. “I’ll think about it.”

  She took that as a sign he was willing to negotiate. “I’ve got a lot of connections,” she added. “I’d like to help.”

  Layla’s head had found its way to his wide chest and she was contentedly gnawing the handle of her sippy cup.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he said abruptly.

  She’d fully expected him to say no. “Great! That’s...that’s really great.” She cringed a little at her overenthusiasm, not to mention her lack of eloquence. She looked at her watch again and quickly leaned forward to kiss Layla’s cheek. Then she started backing down the block. “I’ll call you later to get the particulars. Pay range, hours, all that.”

  He resettled his black cowboy hat on his head, looking resigned. “Are you asking or telling?”

  She knew her smile was once again too wide, but so what? She’d finally gotten to see Layla. And even if she earned Judge Waters’s wrath for not making it back to court on time, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Chapter Four

  Ryder spotted the little foreign job sitting in front of his house. It looked as out of place there as it had stalled on the side of the road out near Devil’s Crossing.

  The second thing he noticed was that Doreen Pyle’s ancient pickup truck wasn’t there.

  When he’d set out that morning to get more hay cut, Mrs. Pyle had been sweeping up cereal after Layla overturned her favorite red bowl.

  But now, Mrs. Pyle’s truck was gone and the lady lawyer’s was parked in its place.

  It was too much to hope that she’d come all the way out here to tell him she’d found the perfect nanny candidate. She could’ve done that over the phone, the same way she’d gotten the particulars from him the other day.

  He glanced at the cloudless sky. “What fresh new problem are you giving me now?”

  As usual, he got no answer. The air remained hot and heavy, filled with the sound of buzzing insects.

  He half expected to find Greer in the kitchen with Layla, but the room was empty when he went in.

  He flipped on the faucet and sluiced cold water over his head. Then he grabbed the dish towel hanging off the oven door to mop his face as he went in search of them.

  There weren’t a lot of rooms in the place, so it didn’t take him long. He found both females in the living room, sprawled on his leather couch, sound asleep.

  Layla wore a pink sleeveless T-shirt and diaper. She was lying on Greer’s chest, who was similarly attired in a sleeveless pink shirt and denim cutoffs.

  He looked away from her lightly tanned legs and quietly went up the iron-and-oak staircase. At the top, he crossed the catwalk that bisected the upper back half of the barn. All he had to do was look down and he could see his living area and who was occupying it.

  Aside from the failed nannies and Mrs. Pyle, the last woman who’d spent any real time under his roof had been Daisy. When he thought about it, Mrs. Pyle had lasted longest.

  He entered his bedroom. He’d put up sliding barn doors in the upper rooms after he’d taken custody of Layla. Before then, the only enclosed spaces had been the bathrooms. Two upstairs. One down.

  He went into his bathroom now and flipped on the shower. Dust billowed from his clothes when he stepped out of them. He got into the shower before the water even had a chance to get warm.

  He still had goose bumps when he stepped out a few minutes later, but at least he wasn’t dripping sweat and covered in hay dust anymore.

  He stepped over the dirty clothes, pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a white T-shirt from his drawer and went back downstairs.

  They were still sleeping. He retrieved a bottle of cold water from the fridge in the kitchen, then wearily sat on the only piece of adult-sized furniture in the living room except for the couch. His aunt had designed the armless, triangular-backed chair during her furniture phase, and he had brought it with him along with the couch more for sentimental reasons than because it was comfortable.

  He slouched down in the thing as much as he could and propped his bare feet on the arm of the couch by Greer’s feet. Instead of opening the water bottle,
he pressed it against his head and closed his eyes. Already the relief from the cold shower was waning and he caught himself having fond memories of the three feet of snow piled up against his house last March.

  Not two minutes passed before Greer spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think the heat’s ever going to end?”

  He didn’t open his eyes. “I spent a summer near Phoenix once.” Adelaide had been doing an exhibition there. “I was fifteen.” He kept his voice low, too, because he knew what it was like when Layla didn’t get in a decent nap. When he’d been rodeoing, he’d drawn broncs that’d been easier to handle. “It was like living inside a pizza oven.”

  “Descriptive. But you didn’t answer my question.”

  He ignored that. “Where’s Mrs. Pyle?”

  “Still not answering my question. Obviously, Mrs. Pyle is at her grandson’s trial.”

  He opened his eyes at that. The baby was still sleeping and Greer watched him over her head, eyes as dark and deep as the blackest night.

  “What trial?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  He spread his hands. “Obviously not.”

  “You do recall that Doreen Pyle has a grandson?”

  He gave her a look.

  “Anthony’s seventeen. And he’s being tried for burning down a barn.”

  Ryder swallowed an oath and pulled his feet off the couch. “She should have told me.” He wasn’t an ogre. “So why are you here?”

  “Because I couldn’t get the prosecution to agree to another continuance and Judge Donnelly has a stick up his—” Greer broke off with a grimace. “Anthony has a very competent trial lawyer representing him. Today, it’s more important for him to have his grandmother there than me.”

  “Not because you wanted to spend time with Layla?”

  “It’s the one thing that made today tolerable. I’ve been working on Anthony’s case since his prelim.”

  “Did he do it?”