Because of the Baby(22)

Keaton retreated to the kitchen and snagged a beer from the refrigerator. Twisting off the top, he drained half the bottle. He was tired. Not thinking straight. Why else would he have settled on the daughter of his family’s archenemy as his ideal match?

His gaze wandered back to Lark. Her right hand rested against Grace’s side, blocking the infant from accidentally sliding off. Not that it could happen. Grace was as limp and unmoving as a rag doll.

Behind him, a timer went off. The noise caused Lark to stir. Her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, then caught sight of Keaton.

“How long have you been home?” Not here, but home, as if she’d come to accept that her house was his, as well. At least for the time being.

“A couple minutes. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you.”

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

“About five.”

Lark was struggling to sit up without disturbing Grace. Keaton set his beer on the counter and went to take charge of the baby. She didn’t wake as he transferred her to the crook of his arm.

“I know you feel more comfortable having Grace in your bedroom,” he began, broaching a subject that was loaded with land mines. He offered his hand in aid. “But I think you need to consider moving her into the nursery.”

“I like her sleeping in my room.” She let him pull her to her feet, but freed herself as soon as she was upright. “Having her clear across the house is just too far.”

“But I’ll be right next door.” He gazed down at the sleeping infant in his arms. Grace’s rosebud mouth puckered as if she were nursing. It was adorable. “I’ll have a monitor and I’m a light sleeper.” Keaton watched Lark grapple with his request and decided not to allow her too much room to think. “I know it drives you crazy that I have to go into your bedroom every time Grace needs a change.”

Her discomfort had been palpable the first night he’d officially moved in. She’d been twitchy throughout dinner and wouldn’t let Keaton near Grace even though she’d seen how capable he was the night before.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Besides, there isn’t enough space between the crib and the changing table. And there’s no room for her clothes.” Keaton had a hard time with the disorder. Things being out of place were his hot button. Jeb, his foreman, was used to it, but Keaton knew it drove a lot of the ranch hands crazy. “I’m going to bring someone in to paint the spare room a soft yellow. Grace isn’t sleeping in the crib at the moment. Let’s just move it and the changing table out of your room. Meanwhile she can continue to sleep in the bassinet.”

Lark looked as if she wanted to argue, but Keaton knew what he’d suggested made perfect sense. First he would get the nursery set up. Later he could work on convincing her that Grace should spend some of her nights there so Lark could get a full night’s sleep.

“Can we talk about this later,” Lark murmured. “I have to finish getting dinner ready.”

“It smells wonderful,” he said, willing to drop the matter for the moment.

Keaton was happy enough that he’d spoken his piece. Even if Lark didn’t agree to his plan, he’d already stated his intention and he would get the ball rolling.

“My friend Julie from the hospital went grocery shopping for me today and stuck around long enough for me to get the roast in. I couldn’t stomach another takeout meal.”

“Sounds great. Home-cooked meals have been rare for me since the tornado destroyed the ranch house.”

She opened the oven door and checked on the status of the roast. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on my cooking abilities.”

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’ll be happy.”

She shot him a suspicious look but discovered he was completely serious and visibly relaxed. “Do you mind holding Grace for a little while? I also baked a cake this afternoon, but I haven’t had a chance to frost it yet.”

Grace began to stir. “Not at all. I think she might be in need of a change. I’ll go take care of that.”

Grace’s furniture had been set up in what was supposed to be a small sitting area. The space was designed to hold a single chair and ottoman or a small writing desk. Keaton barely fit into the space between the changing table and the crib. The latter was being used to store diapers, clothes and toys that Grace would one day play with.

Below the crib were some of the items that Keaton had bought on his first shopping excursion. Lark had been so focused on Grace’s immediate needs she hadn’t gotten around to unpacking everything yet. As soon as he changed Grace, Keaton leaned down to poke through the bag. He recalled the saleslady had suggested a number of items in rapid-fire succession. Having no idea what they did or didn’t need for a baby, he’d bought everything she suggested. Now he pulled out an infant gym and some sort of wrap.