Husband for a Weekend
What was wrong with her? Even his ambling looked sexy.
“Mamamama.”
Directing her attention quickly back to her daughter, she moved to pick her up and snuggle her. “I’m sorry I neglected you last night, sweetie. But it looks as though you were well cared for.”
Daryn grinned and patted her cheek with a hand still damp from being in her mouth. Kim didn’t care about that. She was still feeling guilty about crashing the way she had. She wanted to believe she’d have been fine taking care of her daughter during the night even if Tate hadn’t shown up out of the blue to take over, but she knew she had needed the sleep.
A short while later, Tate called her to the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready.”
Carrying Daryn with her, Kim joined him. “Oatmeal?”
He nodded, setting two steaming bowls on the table. “I thought you’d appreciate something soft and easy to swallow. Sounds as though your throat is still pretty sore.”
“It is,” she conceded. “And this smells delicious.”
“I added a little brown sugar and cinnamon. My mom always made this for me when I was sick.”
She put Daryn in the high chair and handed her a wooden spoon to play with. “Actually, my mom did, too. She made oatmeal a lot on the ranch. It was Stan’s favorite breakfast. He liked it with raisins and walnuts sprinkled on top.”
Adding a glass of orange juice at each place, Tate asked lightly, “You said you liked Stan?”
“He was okay. A total mismatch for Mom, obviously. He didn’t have the patience for her shenanigans, as he called them. Has Daryn eaten?”
Following the change of subject willingly enough, Tate nodded. “I fed her a jar of that baby cereal I found in the pantry and a sippy cup of milk. I assumed that would be suitable.”
She blinked a few times as she sank into her seat. “Yes, that was fine. I have to admit I’m impressed that you managed to take care of everything while I was out of commission.”
He settled into his own seat and reached for his
spoon. “Impressed or stunned?”
She smiled wryly. “Both. You’re the one who said you know nothing about taking care of babies.”
“I don’t,” he confessed. “But I’m a quick study. I watched you take care of her and just imitated what I saw. It helps that she’s an easygoing type of kid. Some would have pitched a fit at being cared for by an awkward greenhorn, but Daryn just went with it, for the most part.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re a stranger to her. She knows you.”
Tate winked at Daryn. “Yeah. I’m the monkey wrangler, right, Daryn?”
Daryn beat a slow tattoo on the high chair tray with her spoon. Kim was reassured that her daughter, at least, was feeling better this morning, even if the child wasn’t quite back to her usual upbeat self.
She let a spoonful of warm oatmeal slide down her raw throat, followed it with a sip of juice, then looked again at Tate. “You slept in the rocking chair.”
When he lifted his eyebrows in question, she explained, “I got up before dawn to check on Daryn and I saw you there. I didn’t know whether to wake you.”
“I meant to crash on the couch, but every time I woke to make sure Daryn was okay I fell asleep in the chair again,” he admitted.
“You couldn’t have been comfortable.”
He shrugged. “I’ve slept in less comfortable places.”
Kim’s appetite faded before she finished the bowl of oatmeal. She took another couple of bites because he had gone to the trouble of preparing it for her, but then set down her spoon, unable to swallow any more.
“I made coffee earlier. Should still be hot. Want a cup?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“How about some herbal tea? I saw several kinds in the cupboard. That would probably feel good on your throat.”