by Mindy Neff
“Aren’t you hurting her?” The baby was pitiful looking, all red and wrinkled, eyes squeezed tightly shut, chin quivering, emitting sounds that resembled a sick kitten. Then again that queer melting sensation in the region of his heart kicked in, and he decided she was pretty cute for such a miniature thing.
Nancy chuckled. “No. Babies are a lot tougher than they look.”
Brice knew he was crowding the nurse, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He felt possessive, territorial, wanting to touch, yet afraid.
He dogged Nancy’s steps, supervising every aspect of this hurried bath, then made severe objecting noises when Nancy blithely jabbed an injection needle into a tiny thigh.
“Oh, man...” For a moment, Brice thought he, too, might cry—or faint—as he watched the delayed reaction of the baby, noticed the instant pain registered in its brain, bringing forth a chin-quivering wail that weakened his knees. He glared at the woman who’d had the audacity to perform such a cruel act.
“To clot the blood,” Nancy explained, laughing at Brice’s fierce expression. “Vitamin K.”
Brice watched in astonished awe as the nurse poked and prodded, bending the baby’s wrist almost double, running her fingers over the outer shell of its tiny ears. Twice he reached out to stop what appeared to be torture, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. Nancy didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
“By feeling the cartilage in an infant’s ears, we can tell whether or not certain internal organs are developed.”
Brice was impressed despite himself, then immediately went on guard when the woman bundled the baby tightly in a blanket and held her out, expecting him to take over.
He jerked his hands out of his pockets as though she’d just hollered, “Think fast.”
“I don’t...”
“Might as well go on and take her, son.” Doc Adams ambled into the kitchen and began washing up at the sink. “You did most of the work, now comes the part that’s pure-dee joy.”
He’d held her before, when she’d been wet and slippery. But that had been instinct and necessity. He hadn’t even thought about it. Now, with her all cleaned up and wrapped like a mummy, he was scared to death to touch her. What if he dropped her or hurt her? His hands were almost bigger than her whole body.
Doc Adams chuckled. “You won’t drop her, boy.”
Awkward at first, then with increasing confidence Brice accepted the warm life he’d had a hand in bringing into the world. She fidgeted a bit but didn’t cry. Carefully, he reached down to move the blanket out of her face.
His heart slammed against his ribs, and he was filled with a sense of almost unbearable incredulity, for a that moment, the tiny child wrapped her fingers around one of his, effectively and forever wrapping herself around his heart.
Well, princess, you’re about the best, most unspoiled accomplishment I’ve ever had.
“You did a fine job with her,” Doc said. “First baby of the new year. Born right here on the Flying D. Frank would have been tickled.”
Yeah, Brice thought. Frank DeWitt had enjoyed kids, had been a good father.
He just hadn’t been good at getting women to stay.
Like father like son.
Brice didn’t want to get attached to this baby. Just like he didn’t want to get attached to her mother. A little devil inside him taunted that it was too late.
“Madison?” he asked. “How is she?”
“Tired, but she’s a trooper. Who is she, by the way?”
“The new housekeeper.”
Doc’s brows rose. “Be a couple of weeks before she feels up to working.”
“More than that,” Nancy put in. “She told me to let someone know that there are baby supplies in her car. You’ll need to go after them pretty soon. I brought a couple of infant diapers over, but that won’t last you long.”
Brice nodded. “I’ll see to it.” He wondered what would cause a woman in advanced pregnancy to apply for a live-in job, to show up in the middle of the night in a fussy, inadequate coat and a car full of baby supplies.
“Better see to getting this baby in her mama’s arms,” Jared Simmons said. “The lady’s getting anxious.”
Brice looked around the room, hoping someone would offer to take over. Standing still with the baby in his arms was one thing. He’d have felt more secure sitting down. But walking and holding at the same time?
“Go on, boy,” Doc urged. “I’ll come back in a few days and check on them.”
That brought his head up. “A few days? Shouldn’t we move them to the hospital or something?” She’d said there was no Mr. Carlyle, but that only meant she wasn’t married. Obviously this baby had a father. A father who could well show up to claim them.
“No need. Both mother and baby are healthy. And I’m only a phone call away.” Doc gathered up his medical bag and slung an arm across his wife’s shoulders. “Besides, Nancy and I could use a little privacy. We missed our New Year’s kiss.”
Nancy tittered and elbowed her husband, but profound love shone clearly in her hazel eyes as she gave her husband a peck on the cheek. “That’ll hold you for a while.” Then she moved to Brice and placed a kiss on his jaw. “Happy New Year, Brice. And congratulations on the new addition to the Flying D.” Before he could set her straight, tell her that this baby would not be staying at the Flying D, the back door opened.
“What in tarnation’s going on? Looks like a dang cattlemen’s convention in the yard out there with all the pickups.” The old cowboy whipped off his battered hat, causing tufts of gray hair to stick out above his ears. “A few puppies being born on New Year’s Eve don’t require the vet and the Doc and—what the Sam Hill are you holding, boy?” Moe Bertelli’s bushy brows slammed together.
“Puppies?” Brice asked, completely bypassing Moe’s question. He hadn’t realized the collie was due. No wonder Jax had whined until Brice had let him out to go to the bunkhouse. At the time he’d felt abandoned by his dog, which had only added to his loneliness over facing the new year. He’d taken it personally that his faithful Lab hadn’t wanted to stick around.
“That ain’t no puppy.”
Brice’s brain was a little slow keeping up. “No, I didn’t mean the baby, I meant—”
“Sally birthed three pups,” Moe interrupted. “Jax’s a proud papa. But who the devil delivered this?” His words were gruff, but his gnarled hands were gentle as he pulled back the blanket and took a peek.
“The housekeeper,” Jared Simmons supplied.
Moe spared the vet a pitying glare. “Lavinia’s too danged old to have babies. Besides, she already left. I know that for a fact cuz my stomach’s not as cast iron as it used to be.” He looked back at Brice, clearly annoyed that he was out of the information loop. Moe liked to know everything that was going on.
“The new housekeeper showed up.” Puppies born at midnight, too? Man alive, everywhere he turned, babies were sprouting.
“Humph. Looks like more ’an that showed up. Scrawny little thing.”
Brice felt insulted on the baby’s behalf. He half turned, scowling. “She’s hardly an hour old.”
“A she? Well that’ll be just fine. We’ll put her on a pony before she crawls. Teach her what’s what right off.”
“No,” Brice said. “It won’t be just fine. She’s not staying.” He pictured it in his mind, though—a little girl with wheat blond hair like her mother’s, pigtails flopping as she sat atop a trotting pony.
“Thought you said her ma was the new housekeeper.”
Brice looked at the man who’d been like a second father to him for as long as he could remember. Had the arthritis affected the old geezer’s brain? “This is no place for a woman and a kid.”
“Why the hell not?” Moe sent the scowl right back.
Brice didn’t like the way everyone in the room was looking at him. As though they could see into his chest, were picturing his heart broken. As though they were remembering the days after his mother had left, then
again the days after Sharon had left.
Well, fine. If they were remembering, then they had to realize that Madison Carlyle couldn’t stay.
Wouldn’t stay.
At least not for long.
And that being the case, he had no business feeling attached. To this baby, or to her mother—who was probably at this minute wondering what they’d done with her newborn.
The baby mewled and gave a tiny cry that sounded like a cough that wouldn’t quite form.
Brice’s nerves stood on end. “I better get her to Madison. Thanks for coming Doc—Jared,” he added at the last minute. The handsome young vet looked as though he wouldn’t mind staying for a while. For some reason Brice wasn’t thrilled with the longing glance the man kept sending in the way of the bedroom.
Feeling utterly stupid, he took a careful step, then another. So far so good. Walking and holding at the same time wasn’t as hard as he’d thought.
Maddie felt as though she’d been run through an old fashioned laundry wringer. The adrenaline generated by the frantic road trip from Dallas to Wyoming had ebbed.
And here she was, on a remote cattle ranch where no one would think to look for her.
And she had a daughter.
More exhausted than she could ever remember being, her arms still ached to hold her child.
She looked up as Brice DeWitt paused in the doorway, his head barely clearing the jamb. He seemed even bigger standing there holding her tiny daughter, looking awkward and awed all at the same time.
She smiled and held out her arms.
He moved forward carefully, leaned down and placed the baby in her arms. He smelled of soap and of baby.
Immediately she began to unwrap the blanket from her child, needing to look, to memorize, unable to believe the swell of love that rose in her, consumed her. This tiny miracle had come from her body.
And she was absolutely perfect.
“Everything appears to be there,” Brice said softly. “Nancy gave her a pretty good going over.”
“Why is there a Band-Aid on her thigh?”
“Got her first shot. Nancy had that syringe popped in before I could stop her. And believe me, sunshine, I’d have tried.”
Maddie smiled at his look of horror, yet felt ridiculously weepy. Her eyes had been leaking so much in the past few hours, it was a wonder her contact lenses were still in place.
“Thank you, Brice. For my daughter.”
He shrugged. “All in a day’s work.”
“I doubt that. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
He reached out as though to touch the baby, then balled his fingers into a fist and pulled back. “No problem. I’d have done worse, and in much stronger language. At least we know your little girl comes by her strong lungs rightfully. So...you thought about a name?”
“I’ve always liked Gabriella.” She noticed his frown. “What? You don’t like it?” For some reason, his approval over her baby’s name seemed important.
“It’s an okay name, I suppose.”
“But?”
“But people will call her Gabby. What if she’s a shy little kid and feels like people are teasing her when she talks?”
Maddie hadn’t thought of that. And she knew plenty about the hurtfulness of teasing. She’d been shuffled through so many different schools and so many different foster families she’d never really had a chance to form friends, allies. She’d always been the odd little girl who wore thick glasses and had no real parents.
Homeless four eyes.
A sense of fierce protectiveness welled up in her. Her little daughter would have roots. Nobody, nobody would take this sweet baby from her. She would have love and every advantage Madison could provide. And that included a special name, a beautiful name.
“What about Abigail?”
“Abigail,” he repeated softly. “Pretty. Too bad Doc’s already gone. He could have filled out the birth certificate and got it ready to go to the state. Doc says it’s a big deal to be the first baby of the new year.”
Maddie tightened her arms around her daughter. She’d forgotten about filing paperwork with the state.
Records were traceable.
And the Covingtons would be looking for birth records.
Anxiety winged through her as perspiration beaded her upper lip.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just tired. I hate to be any more trouble, but is there anyone who can get Abbe’s stuff out of my car? She’ll need diapers, clothes, blankets.”
“I’ll get it. And I’ll call Leonard about the car. He’ll have it towed in to the garage. Might be a little tough to budge him from football games, but it shouldn’t take him more than a couple of days to diagnose your car troubles. Then you can be on your way.”
She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “But...the job.”
The desperate look that came over her face made Brice feel as though he’d just stepped on a kitten. “Ranch duties are hard work, sunshine. This isn’t really the job for you.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“Just caring for that baby is going to take most of your energy—”
“I can handle it, Brice. I need this job.”
He frowned. “What are you hiding from?”
“I’m not—” She stopped, took a breath. “I have a child to support. I need to work.” She gave him a defiant look. “You hired me.”
“Before I knew you were pregnant.”
“So? You don’t look like the discriminating type to me.”
He felt his temper rise, battled it down. “I’m not.”
“Then give me a chance. I won’t let you down.”
He’d heard those words before. With regard to him, that particular promise usually got broken.
The baby scrunched up her face and worked her little self into a snit—probably because he’d agitated her mother.
Brice ran a hand around the back of his neck. He couldn’t throw them out. Madison Carlyle was hiding something, but at the moment she didn’t appear willing to impart what that was.
And Doc said she should rest for a couple of weeks. He could make it that long, couldn’t he? Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to become attached to something or someone he couldn’t keep.
“We’ll talk more when you’re on your feet.”
She astonished him by struggling to a sitting position and attempting to swing her legs over the side of the mattress.
He shot forward, hovering, not knowing whether to grab her or the baby or both. “What are you doing?”
“Getting on my feet.”
“Don’t be cute. I didn’t mean right this minute.”
“I’ve never been cute in my life.”
That statement, along with her flat, unemotional tone, surprised him even more than her trying to get up. Clearly she was referring to looks. And clearly she didn’t realize her appeal. Oh, she looked a little wrung out at the moment, what woman wouldn’t after childbirth. But even though her sunny hair had gone limp and her complexion was pale, even though she wore an old flannel nightgown with tiny pink rosebuds on it, she made him want to just stop and stare.
And she made him long to ask her to stay.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“Do?”
“For a living—when you’re not applying for housekeeping positions, that is.”
“I’m an accountant.”
An idea formed in his head, and as much as he told himself to stay away, to send her away, to not get involved in her secrets and her soul-deep blue eyes, he heard himself saying, “Then we’ll start there.”
“Excuse me?”
“Housekeeping duties and lugging huge pots and pans are out of the question right now. I’m behind on the ranch books. Maybe you can make some sense out of them.”
Her eyes brightened, making him feel as though he’d just given an orphan a much-coveted Christmas present.
“Thank you.”
“Don�
��t jump the gun. It’s only temporary.” He scowled at her. Deliberately. And the fool woman gave him a bright smile for his efforts.
He had to get out of this room before he offered her the moon. “I’ll get the baby stuff out of your car.” His tone was abrupt, and so was his exit.
He pulled the bedroom door partially closed behind him and leaned against the wall, wondering what had possessed him to offer her a bookkeeping job.
He was just about to move away from the slightly opened door when he heard her soft voice.
“Oh, Abbe, Mama’s here. I promise everything will be fine. We’ll be fine. Wyoming is a nice place to live. It was too dark to see much, but I’m sure it’ll be great. I promise you, baby, you’ll have roots. Even if it’s not here, you and I will make our way in life. And you’ll always know you’re loved. I never knew love when I was growing up, but you will.
“And birthdays and Christmas and all the other holidays will be grand. You wait and see. I used to pretend that holidays weren’t any big deal. I learned not to expect much, so I couldn’t be let down. But I wasn’t really strong that way, Abbe. I did hope. And I yearned. And I was hurt when nobody remembered me.
“Don’t you worry, though. That’s never going to happen to you. You’ll never experience a sadness like that,” she said fiercely. “It’s you and me, baby. We’ll have a happy life, even if you never have much in the way of material things. We’ll be strong together.”
Brice strained to hear as her voice softened to a whisper.
“Nobody will take you away from me. It’s just a hunch, but I think Brice DeWitt is like a gift to us. A birthday gift, on your birth day.”
Oh, man. He rubbed his chest as though his heart hurt. After listening to that heartrending vow, how could he ask her to leave?
And who was threatening to take away her baby?
3
Brice pushed away from the wall, retrieved Madison’s purse from the front room and went out through the kitchen, jamming his hat on his head. Jax met him at the back door and gave a soft bark.
“Now you decide to show up,’’ he said to the golden Labrador. “Congratulations, old man. I hear you’re a father.’’ Jax wagged his tail and nudged Brice’s thigh as though apologizing for abandoning him. “Okay, you’re forgiven. You had a good reason for ringing in the new year someplace else.”