I’m sorry, baby, that I had to use you this way. I’ll do right by you. I promise.

“Here you go, Miss Kati,” Colt drawled, handing her the agreement. “I, Colt R. Garret, do promise to marry you one month from today in the event that Evan Parker is still in my custody. How’s that?”

“Everything seems in order.” Taking care not to wake Evan, she folded the paper and slipped it inside her purse. “A month should give us plenty of time to plan an appropriate wedding.”

Colt thought his head would explode. “Now, wait a minute, here. I never agreed to a wedding.”

“This paper in my purse says you did.”

“It says marry, not wedding.” Suddenly he was having second thoughts. If she started planning a wedding, half the county would know about it, a most disagreeable situation that would make shaking her off all the harder. Besides, he didn’t really plan to marry her. That was just a ploy to make her stay with Evan.

He pressed down on his head with both hands. What had he gotten himself into? Didn’t he realize he was too exhausted to make sensible decisions? Hadn’t he seen that on television? Men do stupid things when they’ve been without sleep for days on end. Bright, sensible men became blundering idiots when sleep deprived.

He’d known this woman was a loony toon when she’d first started talking about marriage. Now she was demanding an “appropriate” wedding—whatever in the Sam Hill that meant.

Kati shot him a look of exasperation. “You can’t get married without a wedding.”

“Yes, we can. Couples do it all the time. I know a justice of the peace down at the courthouse who can marry us in two minutes flat.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. In, out. No fuss, no bother.”

Kati shifted the baby to her other shoulder. When he fussed she patted absently at his back, a natural motherly gesture that caused Colt’s stomach to lift the way it did when his truck took a hill too fast. He averted his eyes and tried to concentrate. Lord only knew what he’d fall into if he didn’t pay close attention to Kati Winslow.

Colt flopped down on the opposite end of the long leather couch and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Lord, he was tired. “This isn’t going to be a real marriage.”

“We’ve already determined that,” she replied, big gray eyes peering at him in a way that made him want to agree with anything she said. “But Rattlesnake is a small town. If the banks get wind that this isn’t a real marriage, they may not think the collateral is real, either. I can’t take a chance on losing that loan.”

Too sleep deprived to argue further, he threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Okay. Have it your way. Plan a wedding in Westminster Cathedral for all I care.”

What was he worrying about? Since this wedding of hers would never happen, let her plan anything her little heart desired. As long as she stuck around until Evan’s mother was located, that was all he cared about. He had no intention of giving up his bachelor status.

Kati moved in that afternoon.

“Is this all the stuff you got?” Cookie asked, peering into the trunk of her ancient green Toyota.

He’d come scuttling out the door the minute she’d arrived, offering his assistance. From all appearances, he was as relieved to have her here as Colt was.

Before the interview with Colt, when the old cook had first opened the door for her, Kati had been hard-pressed to hide her misgivings. She hadn’t known whether to laugh or scream. Since her second arrival, the man had gone out of his way to be helpful, and she regretted judging him by his bizarre appearance.

“I travel light,” Kati said in answer to his question about her lack of belongings.

In foster care there was never any time or place to collect “things.” She’d learned at an early age not to cling to possessions, so traveling light came easy.

Cookie hoisted the two cardboard boxes while she grabbed the battered plaid suitcase and several hangers of clothes. They carried everything inside in one trip.

Caesar, Kati’s cat, insulted by the long car ride, twitched his long tail and marched into the house like royalty. Cookie shot him a questioning glance. “Boss know you got a cat?”

“Why? Is that a problem?” The sleek gray cat with aristocratic airs had been her companion for four years.

“Boss hates cats.”

“Oh, dear.” Biting her lip, she paused in the natural-stone entryway and frowned.

“Now, don’t you worry none.” A beefy hand patted awkwardly at her shoulder. “Just keep the critter out from underfoot and everything will be just fine. Colt’s out of the house more than he’s in, anyway.”

“Okay,” she murmured feebly, following Cookie and the insulted cat through a massive living room, then down a long hallway. She couldn’t afford to make Colt angry, but Caesar was her family. She just hoped she could keep the independent animal out of the way.

“Boss figured as how you’d want to be close to the baby.” Cookie stopped at the end of a long hallway dotted with bedrooms, lowered the boxes and pushed the golden-oak door inward.

Kati almost lost her breath as she entered a room beautifully decorated in restful greens. The furniture, the same golden oak she’d noticed throughout the ranch house, gleamed with a fresh shine, and a bouquet of spring flowers waited invitingly on the bedside table along with several magazines and a Bible. Staking his claim at once, Caesar leaped onto the thick sage comforter, circled twice and lay down, his yellow eyes daring anyone to protest.

“Why, Mr. Cookie, everything looks so lovely.”

Dropping the bag, Kati went immediately to press her face into the fragrant pink flowers. “Did you pick these yourself?”

Dragging his gaze from the cat to Kati, the old man looked genuinely pleased at the compliment. “I told the boss you’d like them flowers. And I ain’t Mr. Cookie. Everybody just calls me plain old Cookie.”

At the mention of Colt, Kati’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t come out to greet her when she’d arrived, though that didn’t come as any surprise. He had a ranch to run, and from the looks of things, he’d been too busy with Evan to get much work done. Still, she wondered what he must be thinking now that the enormity of their agreement had had time to sink in. She sucked in a deep breath.

“Where is ‘the boss’?”

“Getting some shut-eye. Once you got the baby to sleeping good, that little critter ain’t never woke up. Colt figured he could do with some catching up of his own.”

“He did look tired.”

“I’ve seen that boy stay up for days on end when he was rodeoing. Drive all day, rodeo all night.” The old cook chuckled and rubbed his scruffy chin. “But that baby boy’s done got him whupped.”

Kati grinned at the thought of Colt letting anything get the best of him. To her, he was invincible. Taking in a homeless baby and agreeing to a marriage of convenience for that baby’s sake only proved the point.

“Where is the baby’s room?”

“Next one down.” He gestured vaguely and started out the door. “You just go on and make yourself to home, Miss Kati. I got some pies in the oven.” He disappeared around the corner only to reappear again immediately. “What’s your favorite pie?”

“Apple.”

“Hot dang! I knowed I liked you. Apple it is.”

Kati smiled as the massive cook disappeared once more, thankful for a sensitive nose that had picked up the scent of apples and cinnamon as soon as she’d entered the back door.

Though anxious to put away her things and explore the sprawling ranch house, Kati’s first thoughts were of Evan. When she’d left him several hours ago he’d been contentedly sleeping in Colt’s arms. By now a hungry tummy should be waking him.

At the end of the hall she discovered two doors instead of the expected one. Unsure of which held the nursery she quietly pushed open the one on the right.