Summertime on the Ranch by Carolyn Brown (leveled readers txt) 📗

guy in by getting pregnant. Marriage should be for love, not necessity, and there should never be regrets.”

“How did you get so smart?” he asked.

“It’s the Irish in me.” She started toward the checkout counter. “Grammie says we’re born smart.”

“I believe it.” Dalton’s eyes glanced at Becca’s flat stomach behind the waistband of her jeans, and he wondered what she’d look like pregnant. If they ever did establish a permanent relationship, their children would be tall for sure. With him standing at six foot two inches and Becca almost kissing six feet, there was no way they’d be short. Would they have dark hair like his or red like hers? Would their eyes be blue or green, or maybe even brown like his maternal grandfather’s?

“Earth to Dalton.” She poked him on the arm.

“Sorry, I was off in another world,” he said.

“What world would that be?” she asked.

“I’ve got to deliver some rodeo bulls down to a ranch rodeo in Haskell, Texas, on Friday.” He said the first thing that came to his mind. “Want to ride along with me? We’ll be back by suppertime.”

“Depends on what’s going on in the wine shed,” she answered.

At least she didn’t say no, he thought as he pushed the empty cart away from the counter for her.

The trip back to Terral seemed to go by in a flash, and suddenly, they were parked outside Greta’s house. There wasn’t a full lover’s moon hanging in the sky, but it was a three-quarter one with stars dancing around it. He could think of all kinds of come-on lines, but not a single one of them seemed appropriate for a woman like his Becca.

My Becca, he thought. Someday, maybe—if I’m as lucky as Rye was when he fell for Austin at first sight.

He got out of the truck, helped her out, and carried the bag of their purchases to the door for her. “I had a great time today, and thanks for helping me with chores.”

“Thanks for supper.” She locked eyes with him.

He dropped the bag on the porch and tipped up her chin with his fist. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her thick lashes fanned out on her cheek. He wanted to kiss her eyes, but that could come later. Right then, he craved the taste of her full lips.

When the kiss ended, he politely picked up the bag and put it in her hands. “Good night, Becca.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears.

“Good night, Dalton,” she whispered.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

* * *

“I guess it was a date,” she muttered as she took the blankets and toys into the house.

“So?” Greta raised an eyebrow.

Becca held up the bag. “Six pink blankets and toys. Where’s Loretta and Dolly?”

“I made them a special bed out of a laundry basket, and they’re sleeping soundly in my room,” she answered. “I’m not talking about the baby stuff. I got a phone call from Mavis a while ago. She says that you’re pregnant. Am I going to be a great-grandmother, and is Dalton the daddy?”

“Gossip travels faster than the speed of sound.” Becca plopped down on the sofa, removed her boots, and propped her feet on the coffee table. “We were buying baby blankets when Lacy Ruiz came into the store… No, that’s not right.” She drew her brows down and then snapped her fingers. “Lacy Ruiz…that’s her name. Do you know her?”

“Oh, yes,” Greta nodded.

“She got the wrong impression, and did you know there’s a bet about what kind of woman Dalton will finally wind up with?” Becca asked.

“I’m not surprised. That boy has a reputation like my Seamus had before he fell in love with me,” Greta said. “So, you were buying baby blankets and Lacy got the wrong idea. Did you tell her it was for our new kittens?”

“Think about it, Grammie,” Becca said. “Would you have believed a story like that?”

Greta’s giggle even had an Irish accent. “I don’t guess I would. It does sound a bit like bull coodle. I guess when you don’t swell up like you’ve swallowed watermelon seeds, they’ll realize that Lacy’s full of…”

“You’re in America, Grammie,” Becca told her. “You can say bullshit.”

That made Greta laugh even harder. “The one way you could get around this mess is to marry the boy, you know, and let him make an honest woman of you.”

“We’ve only been out on one date, and it could hardly be considered a date,” Becca gasped.

“Then he did kiss you good night,” Greta raised an eyebrow. “Did it send a shot of heat all the way to your toenails?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Becca answered.

Chapter 5

Monday was a long day for Becca. The harvesters brought a pickup load of melons to the shed, and she spent the whole day squeezing the juice from them. She wanted to get all of them ready for the next step, so she didn’t go home until after eight that evening. Dalton called and said that he and the hired hands had been hauling hay all day, and since it was supposed to rain the next day, they’d be working by the headlights of the trucks until the job was done.

“Watermelons and hay,” she said.

“We must love it, or we wouldn’t stay with it, right?” he asked.

“Ain’t it the truth,” she sighed.

“I’m at the barn with this load, so good night. Maybe I’ll have time to come by the wine shed tomorrow,” he said.

“Good night.” She looked forward to seeing him. Lord only knew how often she’d thought of him that day, but maybe it was better if they both had a little space after that steaming-hot kiss they had shared the night before.

His voice sounded almost as tired as she felt that evening. She was glad to see a note from Greta saying that she’d gone to the movies with her friends and wouldn’t be home until late. The kittens came tumbling out of the living room, purring and rubbing around Becca’s ankles as she made