The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(36)

“I like to take care of people,” she reiterated.

“Well, does she look healthy?” he asked.

“Yes. She looks fine.”

“Look, if Cheyenne is having... If she’s having a breakdown, I don’t see how we can call Child Services on her. She did the right thing, right? She went and got help. She left the baby with someone she knew she could trust. And whatever I think about my own personal ability to take care of a child, or why anyone should look up to me at all... It doesn’t matter. The fact is I took care of her and Trent when they needed it, and...” He shook his head. “I mean, I’m the reason...”

It was clear to her that there were some things tangled around Colt that he didn’t want to contend with right now either.

“You’re the godfather?”

“That’s what Trent and I talked about before he died. Cheyenne knows that. Of course she does. It was... It was part of the plan. They’re so young. She’s... I don’t know. Maybe she’s twenty? Just a girl hanging around the rodeo. Probably barely eighteen when she met Trent. And I thought... I don’t know. After the life that kid had, I was just glad that he found someone. I had concerns about the fact that they were so young. Hell, Mallory, I’ve never been in love. I don’t want to be. And this kid just jumped right into it, in spite of the fact that he never had a family. He was a foster kid.”

Colt’s electric blue eyes met hers with a depth of sincerity that shocked her to her core. “He wanted to be a father to this little girl. More than anything. He wanted to break that cycle. I know he did. He was... He was a little shit. And their relationship was crazy. They were always breaking up and getting back together. It wasn’t perfect. But neither of them had any example. In... That wasn’t what he wanted for her. He wanted her to have everything. I can’t risk her ending up in foster care. My responsibility is to stand guard over her if he can’t. And he can’t. I don’t think that I should be in charge of anyone. Let alone an innocent... An innocent baby. But if it’s me or Child Services, then it has to be me. So, no. We can’t call.”

Mallory’s stomach twisted. This was tragic. There was nothing else to call it. An absolute tragedy. Cheyenne was a young mother who was without her partner. And that was what she had meant when she said it would never be okay.

The baby was maybe barely a week old.

“Cheyenne doesn’t have any family?”

“As far as I know they never approved of her relationship with Trent. And weren’t that thrilled when she got pregnant. I don’t think there’s really anyone she can depend on.” His jaw went granite. “Hell. You know there isn’t, or she wouldn’t have come to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because. She thinks I’m responsible for his death. She made it plenty clear.” His gaze went shaded. “She’s not wrong.”

“How...”

“Look. I don’t want to talk about it. What I want to do is make sure this baby is taken care of.”

“Colt, sometimes we feel responsible for things we never could have stopped.” Her chest went tight. “That doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Does it mean it doesn’t feel like shit?”

She shook her head. “Do you know the baby’s name?”

“No,” he said, and for the first time, he looked slightly at a loss. But that faded. Quickly. “Go get the car seat for me. It’s still on the front porch.”

He reached down and picked the baby up off the couch, careful to support her head. It was clear he didn’t have a whole lot of experience with babies, but also that he was confident enough in his ability that he wasn’t tentative. Didn’t ask any questions. But then, his hands were so big, he could lay her across one forearm resting her head in his palm, supporting her perfectly.

“Car seat,” he said.

“You could say please.”

“Because you’re so polite?”

She stared at him.

“Please,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, then walked out of the living room, through the house. It was clear that the place was in a partial remodel. The kitchen looked uprooted, but the living room was lovely. The wood floors looking recently resurfaced, the couches plush and new. Colt had clearly done well enough for himself in the rodeo. Buying this huge piece of ranchland, working on this house. And owning the little cabin that she stayed in. She opened the door and picked the car seat up by the handle. It was still attached to the base. And fortunately, she also knew how to install car seats. She brought it into the house and set it down in front of the couch, detached from the base.

“We have to get supplies,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Obviously.”

“Well, handily for you, I know how to install a car seat. I understand that you want to do this through sheer force of will and alpha determination, but there’s an actual skill to making sure that a baby is safe. You can’t just strap her to your chest and carry her around.”

“That does sound like something we might need, though,” he said. “A way to strap her to my chest.”

“Yes,” she said. “That does exist.”

“I take your point, though. I need you to come with me.”