Colton Cowboy Jeopardy (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“I know I’m trespassing,” she said. “Please, it won’t be for long. I can write a check or make a donation or something.”

“But—”

“Please,” she interrupted. “Do you have to report me? I’m not hurting anything. I just need another day or two to figure out my next step.”

It didn’t take a genius to know she was holding back. No one, not even a ranch hand, would consider this hut habitable for more than a few hours. “How long have you been here?”

“Overnight.” She shifted the baby, resting him on her shoulder and patting his back. “I didn’t plan this.”

“Obviously. What happened?” His thoughts were whirling. Was this a custody thing? He’d noticed the headlines from his sister’s reports in the Mustang Valley Gabber about Mia’s recent divorce. If she was in trouble, why wasn’t her dad helping out? According to his limited knowledge, Norton valued his family and treasured his only daughter.

She rolled her eyes. “What will it take?” she asked.

“Take?”

“To keep you quiet,” she said. “I can—”

He cut her off this time. “Don’t finish that sentence.” If she wanted to bribe him, he didn’t want to hear it. “I don’t need your money, either.” He didn’t want to dwell on what else she might be desperate enough to offer. “What kind of trouble are you in? How did you even get here?”

“I drove,” she replied. “My trouble isn’t your problem. I didn’t think anyone would find me out here.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

“Just lucky you happened along?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied. That was how he saw it. The hut was just that. An unfinished, bare-minimum structure that hadn’t been maintained or updated in years. There was no running water or even a bed. It was a glorified firepit. “I can help you.”

He was already making a mental list of what he might pull together to make her more comfortable until he could convince her to move someplace more secure.

“Thanks, but no thanks. We’re fine right here, unless you plan to report me.” She turned her back to him again as she continued to nurse the baby.

“I won’t report you.” Her skepticism didn’t bother him half as much as her location. “But this isn’t adequate,” he insisted. “You can’t take care of a newborn here.” He didn’t have any real experience with mothers or babies, but this couldn’t possibly be the right environment. Mia Graves had been raised with the best of everything money could buy. How she’d successfully managed one night here baffled him.

He saw a grocery bag in the corner, next to a stylish tote overflowing with what appeared to be baby paraphernalia. “There are guest rooms at the ranch. I can make arrangements and you can clean up and rest.”

“Wow.” Her gaze was flat, annoyed. “Way to make a woman feel special.”

She was a wall of stubbornness. “That’s not what I meant. You look great.”

One eyebrow arched in challenge.

Fine, he’d spell it out. “You don’t have a bed. No real bathroom. That one chair is better used as firewood. Should I go on?”

“Please, just go.”

He crossed his arms. He’d match her stubborn streak. “I’ll let you stay, if you tell me what kind of trouble you’re

in.”

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” she said with a slow shake of her head.

Oh, she was completely wrong about that, but this was about her. Her and the baby. Baby, a voice shouted in his head, lest he forget that gorgeous women were for dating only. Babies came with relationships and starred in family photos on holiday cards. He wasn’t cut out for any of that.

“What I don’t know can absolutely be a threat to this ranch. It’d be good to have some advance warning if a furious husband is on the way.”

“Allow me to clear that up.” Her voice snapped like a whip. “Neither my ex-husband nor my father will be storming your ranch in pursuit of me.”

Your ranch. He knew the words meant nothing to her, but they sent a pleasant sensation coursing through him. If he found the proof Isaiah told him about, it might very well become his ranch. He and Spencer and Bella would own the Triple R. Wouldn’t that be a kick?