Free Baby's First Homecoming by Cathy McDavid Page A

weight bearing down on her heart.
    “Come on, I’ll show you.”
    They started toward the barn. Other than being newer, it closely resembled the one at Powell Ranch.
    Halfway there, Jamie started fussing again. Given that it was nearly six o’clock and two hours since he’d last eaten, he was probably hungry. She reached into the diaper bag. Too late, she remembered she was out of animal crackers.
    “What’s wrong with him?” Clay asked.
    “He’s hungry.”
    “Should we go back to the house and feed him?”
    Prolonging her visit was the last thing she wanted. “He’ll be okay if we don’t take too long.”
    “He doesn’t sound okay,” Clay observed as Jamie’s wailing gained conviction. “I have some instant oatmeal in the office.”
    “You eat breakfast in your office?”
    “I like to tackle the paperwork before my day gets away from me.”
    Considering how late he’d worked the last two nights, he put in some mighty long hours.
    They rounded the side of the barn. A flimsy plastic office sign was mounted beside a brown steel door.
    Clay opened it.
    Sierra made a face, recalling the barn office at her family’s ranch with its perpetually grimy windows, scuffed floors and dust-blanketed desk. Not that she faulted her brothers. Who could keep an office clean in a barn?
    Clay lifted the stroller’s front wheels over the raised threshold. Jamie stopped whining—momentarily, Sierra was sure. If she’d learned anything about her son these last several weeks it was that he possessed a voracious appetite.
    “Here we are.”
    Sierra prepared herself for the worst and stepped inside. She let out a small gasp. The office was not only spanking clean, it was attractive and housed state-of-the-art equipment. Framed photographs decorated the walls. A few featured Clay as a teenager, roping calves and riding bulls. Three photos were of the rodeo arena at various stages of construction. A large portrait of Prince hung over a cabinet.
    As she had when she’d viewed his house, Sierra found herself stammering as she commented, “This is nice.”
    “I’m not the most organized person in the world.”
    She’d barely noticed the piles of papers and folders on the desk. “Who does your office work now?”
    “Me, mostly. I also use a temp agency. They send someone out once or twice a week.”
    Despite her conviction not to be, Sierra was curious. “How many hours a day do you think would be enough?”
    “Four, for sure. Maybe more the week before an event. We have a bull-and-bronc-riding jackpot next month.”
    As they talked, Clay went to a cupboard where he removed a bowl and package of instant oatmeal. Using water from a cooler, he prepared the oatmeal and heated it in the microwave.
    Sierra lifted Jamie from the stroller and sat with him in the visitor chair. A minute later, Clay handed her the bowl of oatmeal and a spoon. Jamie ate as if he was starving.
    Clay sat behind the desk, facing them. “I hope we’re not spoiling his dinner.”
    “Are you kidding? This is just the appetizer. He’ll have the main course at home.”
    “You’re really good with him.”
    She couldn’t look at Clay, afraid he’d see the blush warming her cheeks. Why in the world did his praise embarrass her?
    “Thanks. I’m trying.”
    “I’d like to try, too. Feeding him, that is.”
    “Now?” She didn’t want to give up Jamie. “He’s almost done.”
    “So I see.” Clay chuckled. “He definitely has my appetite.”
    Clay did eat a lot, Sierra remembered that about him. One would never know it to look at him, however. He didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on his lean, athletic frame.
    Enough already with the personal thoughts about Clay, Sierra chided herself. Their relationship was already confusing enough.
    While Jamie played with the spoon, Clay rambled on about the day-to-day office operations. Sierra listened, wishing she didn’t like the sound of the job so much. If not for having to leave Jamie with a