Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana #3) - Jane Porter Page 0,49
she’d wanted to bring up to Billy, expecting she’d have to do a fair amount of educating him, but instead, he’d brought her up to speed, and he’d executed the plan. “I can look for infant cereal when I go shopping this weekend.”
“I can drive you to Bryce. We’ll all go.”
“You think it’s a good idea to drive?”
“I’m right-handed. My truck is an automatic.”
“I don’t want you to hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“So, what do we do with all those boxes out there? From the looks of it, almost everything will need to be put together.”
“I’ll handle that. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Are you going to do all of that with just one hand, too?”
“No. But I know someone who can get it done for us without too much effort.”
Not even fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the front door. Erika answered, opening the door to discover a young cowboy on the front porch.
“Mr. Wyatt sent me a text; said he needed some help.” The young cowboy couldn’t have been much older than twenty or twenty-one. He swept off his hat revealing dark hair and a dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. “I’m Brad Mott, but everyone calls me Boom.”
“Boom?” she repeated.
He nodded, grinned. “When I was little, I liked to crash things, and when I did, I’d go boom.” His grin widened. “I guess the name stuck.”
“Well, Boom, I’m Erika Baylor,” she said extending her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ll take you to Billy.”
It took Boom most of the afternoon to get the crib and dresser put together, with Billy reading instructions, and holding pieces that he could, and then they tackled the high chair and by the time that was done Boom had to get home to feed the livestock.
Erika asked Billy about Boom after he was gone. “I take it, he’s a neighbor?”
“Lives just a couple miles down the road. His folks’ property butts up against mine. He’s helped me for a couple of years now, keeping an eye on things when I’m not here, and helping me with the odd job when I am home.”
“So, he’s not a rodeo cowboy?”
“He’s just your hardworking, salt of the earth cowboy. He’s the real deal.”
She smiled. “I like him. He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s saving up to get married—”
“What? He’s so young!”
“Almost twenty—”
“Even younger than I thought.”
“Boom and his girlfriend have been serious for a couple years. I’ve been thinking of hiring him on full-time. It’d give him steady income and Ellen would be happy knowing he’s got a good job close to home.”
“Is Ellen his girlfriend?”
“His mom. She used to be an ER nurse, but the local hospital closed and she didn’t want to be driving an hour to get to work.”
“You know your neighbors pretty well.”
“I’ve lived here a few years now. We’re all pretty isolated. It’s important to know who’s near you in case something happens.”
The next day, Billy oversaw the setup of Beck’s room, by directing Boom to place the crib just so, and then the small dresser which also served as a changing table against the opposite wall. He carefully crouched down, keeping his torso upright as he plugged the small bucking horse night-light in, and then rose, his gaze sweeping the room, clearly pleased with what he saw. “It looks good,” he said, glancing at Erika who’d been watching from the doorway. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks great. We’ll fill the top dresser drawer with diapers when we buy them, and the next drawer with Beck’s clothes when we’ve washed them.” She frowned. “Speaking of which, I should do that today. I haven’t done laundry in ages, not since our second day in Boise when I used the motel’s laundry room.”
Boom stayed for lunch—he’d brought the lunch, actually, thick roast beef and cheddar sandwiches on freshly baked bread—and during lunch, he and Billy discussed farm things and the horses and Erika’s mind drifted, as she considered her work. She really didn’t feel inspired. There was nothing in her that wanted to go to her room and be alone for hours. She’d always thought of herself as an introvert, preferring her own company over others, but being alone wasn’t appealing, not when fascinating, larger-than-life Billy Wyatt was in the next room.
She did get a little work done later, not enough to brag about, but in her room, she could at least pretend to be focused. Productive.
But a half hour into revising a section of her paper, she got a calendar reminder that