LITMIR.BIZ

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rid of the socks, but he didn’t think it would be good to brag about that.

      He’d meant to sweep the floor, but he’d run out of time. The mud he’d tracked in last week after they’d had a spring rain was still there. Dog hair was noticeable. When Daisy barked at the backdoor, he automatically opened the screen for her even as he was trying to figure out what to say.

      “Uh, the table’s clean,” he muttered.

      “A doggie!” the little girl squealed, reaching out to Daisy.

      “We can’t touch the doggie right now, Torie. It’s time to eat,” Megan said. Then she looked at him, a question in her blue eyes.

      “Yeah, I’ve got the food right here,” he assured her, setting the containers on the table.

      The two women exchanged a look. Finally, the older one said, “Do you have place mats? Or…or dishes?”

      Heck, they could see he had dishes. A lot of them were piled in the sink. He hadn’t been able to get them all in the dishwasher.

      “There’s clean ones in the dishwasher. I’ll—”

      “I’ll get them,” Megan said gently. She helped the little girl into one of the chairs at the table. “You sit still, Torie, and do not pet the dog.” Then she turned to him and said softly, “You might want to wash up.”

      He turned bright red. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be right back.” He hurried to his bathroom and washed. As he looked in the mirror, he realized his white T-shirt had a streak of black on it. Whipping it off, he searched for another shirt.

      Much to his disgust, all he could find was a pink one, created when he’d washed it with something red. “Damn, I’m going to look like a sissy. A messy sissy!” he said in disgust. But he had no choice. He couldn’t go without a shirt.

      The little girl was still seated at the table, but her gaze was on Daisy, who was sitting on her haunches by the door, waiting for Rick.

      “If you’ll hold Andrew,” Megan’s mother said as he entered the kitchen, putting her words into action by placing the baby in his arms before he could protest, “I’ll help Megan.”

      He stood there, dumbfounded, while the two women quickly set the table. Then they opened the boxes to set out the food.

      “I didn’t buy anything for babies,” he suddenly realized. “I’m not used to—”

      “You don’t dislike children, do you, Mr. Astin?” Faith asked, alarm in her voice.

      “No, ma’am. That is, I don’t dislike them. I haven’t been around too many children.”

      She beamed at him. “You’re doing just fine with Andrew.”

      Surprised, Rick looked down at the little boy he still held clasped to his chest. “Yeah, hey, he’s not crying.”

      MEGAN HID HER GRIN. She didn’t want to spoil his sense of accomplishment by telling Rick that Drew seldom cried. Especially when he’d recently been fed.

      After getting a look at Rick’s home, the kitchen, at least, she decided this cowboy needed to feel good about something. How could anyone live in the middle of disaster? She only hoped he was better at ranching than he was at taking care of himself.

      She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. That pink T-shirt was a surprise. It clung to his muscles, showing his strength, but it was an unusual color.

      When all the food was on the table, she looked at Rick. “Um, do you—is there any tea, or—”

      His face turned brighter than his T-shirt. “I haven’t made any.”

      “We’ll drink water,” Faith assured him, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

      “There are sodas in the fridge,” he hurriedly offered.

      The little girl immediately asked for a soda, and Rick was relieved that he could please any of them. A hiccup sounded from the baby he was holding and he peered down at him. He seemed content. Two out of four wasn’t bad.

      Except the two he’d hoped to impress were the two he couldn’t count on his side.

      Megan took some glasses out of the dishwasher and added ice. Faith had opened the refrigerator and taken out some sodas and put them on the table. Then she turned to him and reached for the baby.

      He was amazed at his reluctance to release the little guy. His warmth had been a comfort.

      “Does it matter where we sit?” Megan asked.

      He shook his head no. But when she joined Torie, he took the seat at that end of the table.

      “I like pink,” the little girl announced, beaming at him.

      Reminded of his unusual attire, he blushed again. “I, um, I’m not very good with laundry.”

      Megan’s mother, sitting on his other side, patted his arm again. “Don’t worry about it. I would be a terrible rancher. How long have you lived here?”

      The conversation moved a little more smoothly after that and by the time they’d finished the meal, Rick counted Faith on his side, too.

      But Megan hadn’t relaxed, hadn’t drawn him into conversation, hadn’t smiled at him as Faith had. She’d remained silent most of the meal, dealing with the little girl, but not talking to him.

      “May we see the rest of the house?” Faith asked as they finished eating.

      All of Rick’s comfort disappeared. “Um, it’s in pretty bad shape, Faith,” he said, as he’d been instructed to call her. “I didn’t manage to do any work on it today.”

      “Why don’t you just tell us about it, then,” Faith said.

      Rick smiled at her. The woman was wonderful. He sent a look at Megan, but she ignored him. “Okay. There are five bedrooms. One of them is down here. The rest are upstairs. I could move to the bedroom down here, and let you have the upstairs. There’s only one bath up there, though I’ve been thinking about adding another one.”

      When he finished his year, he’d made a few plans. But until that year was over, he was sticking to his budget. No matter what.

      “Why?”

      That single word from Megan drew his attention. “Why what?”

      “There’s only you. Why would you need another bath upstairs?”

      “The bath upstairs is not very large. I’d like a second bathroom added to the master bedroom.”

      “Megan, I think it’s admirable that Rick wants to improve his home,” Faith said softly.

      There was some kind of rebuke in her words because Megan’s cheeks turned red.

      Rick rushed into speech. “I can’t do anything right now, but I’ve been thinking about the future. Unfortunately, you all will have to share that small bath if I move downstairs.”

      “We’ll manage,” Megan muttered, not looking at him.

      “Of course we will. We only have one bath now. Our house in Fort Worth was much larger, but—well, we’re glad we’re here.”

      “When do you want to get married?” Rick asked, fearing Megan had changed her mind. She didn’t appear as determined tonight as she had earlier in the day.

      At her mother’s surprised look, he feared he’d blown it. “You did talk to your mother about…I mean—”

      “Yes, I know,” Faith hurriedly said. “I thought maybe Megan had explained that we need to handle this business right away.”

      “We didn’t get very far in our discussion this afternoon,” he confessed.

      “That’s because all you wanted to talk about was food,”

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