Five Brothers and a Baby

by Peggy Moreland

  Maggie glanced down and was surprised to see that Laura had, indeed, fallen asleep. Smiling, she scooped the infant into her arms and rose. "I guess I better head for town while she's napping."

  He dropped his gaze to the photos again, searching for a common thread that would link them together. "Charge whatever you need."

  "Do you want me to pick up anything for you while I'm in town?"

  He shifted the order of the photos, removed two, then studied them critically. "I need to ship these off to my agent."

  "No problem. I can do it for you while I'm in town. I'll need the address."

  Seeing the thread he needed, he plucked another picture out of the line-up and tossed it aside, then quickly began gathering the remaining photos and slipping them into protective sleeves. "Never mind. I'll go with you."

  Maggie looked at him in surprise. "But your ribs," she reminded him.

  He shot her a scowl. "They're only bruised, remember?" He started to whip the sheet back to rise, but caught himself. Holding the sheet at his waist in a fist, he lifted a brow. "Not that I have anything I'd be ashamed for you to see, but you might want to wait outside."

  * * *

  Five

  « ^ »

  The downtown area of Tanner Crossing was built on the town square concept, with Tanner State Bank sitting dead center. An eclectic mix of retail shops and business offices lined the four streets forming the square, each building's front unique in design and ornamentation, yet blending to create a charming retail center enticing enough to satisfy the shopping needs of visitors and locals alike.

  Pushing the newly-purchased stroller down the awning-shaded sidewalk, Maggie glanced wistfully at the window displays she passed, wishing she had time to browse through some of the shops. But Ace's instructions had been specific. One hour, he'd said, and she was to meet him back at the truck. He'd even added the warning that if she was late, he was leaving without her.

  Maggie didn't doubt for a minute that he would make good his threat. He was just that ornery.

  Fortunately, she'd found most of the things she needed in the first store she'd stopped at. In less than thirty minutes, she'd purchased a crib, a swing and the stroller, plus filled three huge shopping bags with an assortment of other baby items. But she could never have accomplished so much so quickly if not for the Tanner name. It had barely slipped past her lips, when the owner himself had appeared and had his sales staff all but turning the store inside out in his anxiousness to fill her requests. He'd even agreed to deliver all her purchases to the ranch later in the week at no extra charge.

  Still shaking her head over what a difference a name could make, Maggie pushed open the door to the drugstore and carefully maneuvered the stroller over the threshold. Once inside, she stopped to get her bearings and had to blink twice, sure that she'd been catapulted back in time to the '50s. An old-fashioned soda fountain, complete with chrome pedestaled bar stools bolted to a black-and-white tiled floor, dominated the wall on her left. The opposite side of the store held the beauty counter, with cosmetics and perfumes displayed on gleaming glass shelves, and feminine products wrapped in plain brown paper. In between stretched aisle after aisle of merchandise-laden shelving units, the products on each ranging from greeting cards to hand-held massagers. At the rear of the store hung a red neon R guiding customers back to the pharmacy, where a gray-haired man stood on a tall ladder, stocking the shelves with a new shipment of medications.

  With a quick glance at her watch to check the time, Maggie pushed the stroller down the aisle marked Infant Care. She quickly selected the toiletries and diapers she needed, placed them on the rack beneath the stroller, then moved on to study the selections of formula and baby food.

  "Can I help you find something?"

  Maggie glanced over to find a woman bustling down the aisle toward her. Wearing a pastel smock with Samples' Pharmacy embroidered over the left breast, she moved with a speed that belied her plumpness and snow-white hair.

  Maggie offered her a hopeful smile. "You can if you know when it's safe to start a baby on fruits and cereals."

  "Safe?" the woman repeated, then huffed a breath. "Honey, you've been reading too many of those new mother books." She gave Maggie's arm a patronizing pat. "But most young folks do with their first."

  Before Maggie could explain that Laura wasn't her baby, the woman thrust out her hand.

  "I'm Myrna Samples. My husband, John, is the pharmacist." As Maggie took the woman's hand, Myrna leaned close to whisper, "But don't let that fancy title of his fool you. He may know all there is to know about all those little pills that he guards like the national mint, but I'm the authority on babies." She swelled her chest proudly. "Raised four of my own, plus helped raise twelve grandchildren and five greats."

  Laughing, Maggie inclined her head. "I bow to your greater experience. I'm Maggie," she said, then gestured to the baby. "And this is Laura."

  Myrna stooped to peer beneath the stroller's umbrella at the baby. "Oh, but she's a pretty little thing," she said, then looked up at Maggie. "How old is she?"

  "Almost four weeks."

  Myrna straightened, her arthritic knees creaking at the effort. "Is she sleeping through the night?"

  "No. She usually wakes up between one and two, wanting a bottle."

  Myrna pulled a box from the shelf. "Then, you'll want to put a little cereal in her formula. Rice is best, until you've determined if she has any food allergies."

  Maggie took the box and added it to the other items beneath the stroller. "Thanks," she said gratefully. "Her formula wasn't seeming to satisfy her any more, but I wasn't sure if I should introduce a new food into her diet this soon, without talking to a doctor first."

  "Go with the gut," Myrna said prosaically. "That's what I always say. A mother knows best what her child needs."

  Again, Maggie tried to explain that she wasn't Laura's mother, but Myrna interrupted her by asking, "Are you needing anything else?"

  Maggie glanced at her list. "No. That about does it."

  "Then follow me," Myrna said and led the way to the checkout. She helped remove the items from beneath the stroller, then stepped behind the cash register and rang up the purchases. "Cash or charge?" she asked, when she'd finished.

  "Charge," Maggie replied, then added, "To the Bar-T."

  Frowning, Myrna dipped her chin to look at Maggie over the top of her reading glasses. "The Bar-T?"

  Maggie felt a moment's unease. "Well … yes. The Tanners do have an account here, don't they? Ace said I was to charge whatever I needed."

  Myrna's brows shot high. "That sweet child is Ace Tanner's?"

  Heat flooded Maggie's cheeks. "Well, no," she said hesitantly, unsure if Ace would want the whole town to know about Laura's existence. "Not exactly. Ace is Laura's … guardian."

  Myrna stared at Maggie a moment, then sputtered a laugh. "Well, I suppose that's one way of explaining their relationship." She hit a register key and a receipt churned out. Tearing it off, she laid it on the counter. "Sign right here," she said, then leaned a hip against the counter and folded her arms over her ample breasts. "And here I was thinking that Ace had quit cleaning up after his daddy years ago," she said, with a regretful shake of her head.

  Maggie passed her the receipt. "Excuse me?"

  Myrna flapped a hand, as she tucked the slip of paper into a slot on the register drawer. "Not that I blame Ace, you understand. Buck was nothing but a rounder, and a selfish one at that. Left the raising of his sons up to that poor wife of his. After the cancer got Emma, the old coot didn't show a sign of changing his ways, so Ace stepped in and took over the job." She shook her head sadly. "Poor thing. Wasn't much more than a boy himself, at the time."

  While Maggie stared, trying her best to hide her shock, Myrna began to chuckle.

  "You should have seen those boys when Ace brought them to town. They'd trail along behind him like a gaggle of baby geese after a mother goose. As they got older, I think they began to resent
him bossin' them around. Especially Ry," she added with a frown, then sighed. "But I guess that was to be expected, as he was the closest to Ace in age. But Ace never once backed off from the responsibility he'd taken on, no matter how big a fuss those boys kicked up." She shook her head. "No, siree, he stuck by those brothers of his through thick and thin."

  Rearing back, she flapped a hand. "Would you listen to me? Here I am talking your ear off, when I'm sure you've got other errands to run."

  Caught up in the glimpse of Ace's past Myrna had woven for her, Maggie had forgotten all about the time. She glanced at her wrist watch and was surprised to see that her hour was almost up. "I really do need to go," she said, panicking. "I'm supposed to meet Ace back at the truck soon. Thanks again for your help, Myrna."

  "Anytime, honey," Myrna called after her. "And you be sure and bring that sweet baby back by to see me the next time you're in town, you hear?"

  "I will," Maggie promised.

  Praying Ace hadn't arrived yet, Maggie all but flew across the street to the spot where she was to meet him.

  Not seeing a sign of him anywhere, she heaved a sigh of relief and slowed, pushing the stroller to a park bench beneath the shade of a centuries-old oak tree. Sitting down to wait, she rolled the stroller slowly back and forth, gently rocking the baby, and thought back over her conversation with Myrna.

  She tried to picture Ace as a young boy, as Myrna had described him, traipsing through town, with his three brothers in tow. Though the image came easily enough to mind, she couldn't begin to imagine what it must have been like for a boy his age to take on the responsibilities of caring for his three younger brothers—especially after they reached an age where they resented his supervision.

  She might have been able to dismiss Myrna's comments as an old woman's rambling, if she hadn't remembered Rory telling her the night before about Ace taking him to the doctor to get a tetanus shot. At the time, Maggie hadn't thought much about the story, other than thinking it was funny that a man as tough as Ace was terrified of needles. But now she realized what a courageous and selfless act that had been for Ace. With no parent around to handle the emergency, he'd set aside his own fears and taken Rory to the doctor, even insisting upon holding his brother's hand while Rory was given the dreaded shot.

  Kind. Giving. Compassionate. They were all adjectives that fit the picture of the young Ace Myrna and Rory had drawn for her. But Maggie had a hard time associating those traits with the adult version of that boy.

  But maybe that was partly her fault, she thought, trying to be fair. She'd been so blinded by her own grief and so determined that the Tanners should raise Laura, that she'd never once considered Ace's feelings before she'd thrust the baby on him.

  In retrospect, she could see why he hadn't exactly welcomed Laura with open arms. In a matter of only a few days, he'd lost his father, assumed the duties of executor of what must be a sizeable and complicated estate and had the guardianship of a half sister, whom he hadn't even known existed, all but dumped on his lap. A lot for any man to deal with, she thought, feeling a stab of remorse for the lack of understanding and compassion she'd offered him.

  The sound of approaching footsteps jarred her from her thoughts, and she glanced up to find Ace coming down the sidewalk toward her. He walked with his head down, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets and his shoulders stooped, as if he carried the weight of the world on them.

  Emotion tightened her throat. She wanted to believe that it was his slight limp and battered appearance that caused the unexpected swell of emotion. But it was something more than his injuries that had her curling her hands around the edge of the bench to keep herself from jumping up and running to meet him. Something stronger and decidedly scarier that had her wanting to throw herself into his arms.

  And that something felt a whole lot like desire.

  It was because he'd kissed her, she told herself, even now able to feel the warmth of his hands on her flesh, the smothering, yet captivating heat of his mouth covering hers. He'd made her feel things she'd never felt with a man before. Want things that she hadn't allowed herself to want in years. The memory of that kiss alone was enough to send her heart racing, but seeing him in the flesh made her yearn to experience the thrill of it all again.

  Fearing she would give in to the temptation, she gripped her hands tighter on the edge of the bench's seat. Laura, she reminded herself sternly. She had to keep her mind focused on Laura and her purpose for being in Ace's home. She couldn't afford to let anything or anyone——especially Ace Tanner—distract her from her goal. Not when she wanted so desperately to convince the Tanners to keep the baby and raise her as their own.

  She drew in a deep, steadying breath, then slowly exhaled. But it wouldn't hurt her to be kinder to him, she told herself. More understanding.

  Promising herself that she could offer him both, without jeopardizing Laura's future, she forced a smile and rose to greet him. "Did you get all of your errands run?"

  He strode right past her, without so much as a glance her way.

  She stared after him, her eyes rounded in astonishment. How rude! she thought, her temper flaring at the obvious snub. She knew he'd heard her. How could he not, when he'd passed within feet of where she stood?

  Setting her jaw, she pushed the stroller to the truck, where he already sat behind the wheel. When she reached for the door, he leaned across the seat and shoved it open, bumping it against her knee.

  "Get in," he snapped.

  A scathing retort leaped to Maggie's tongue, but she quickly swallowed it, remembering her vow to be more understanding.

  Stooping to transfer the baby from the stroller to the car seat, she muttered under her breath, "If I don't kill him first."

  * * *

  Maggie rode in tight-lipped silence for about five miles before she dared open her mouth, without fear of biting Ace's head off. She probably wouldn't have spoken to him then, if she hadn't noticed that he had the truck headed in the opposite direction of the ranch.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep the resentment from her voice.

  "Your house."

  She whipped her head around to look at him. "My house? Why?"

  "I need to look through Star's personal belongings." He glanced her way. "You do have her stuff, right?"

  Squeezing her hands between her thighs, Maggie turned to face the windshield again, the thought of opening up those boxes making her sick to her stomach. "What little she had," she said uneasily, then stole a glance his way. "Why do you need her things?"

  "I hired a private detective and he says things'll go quicker, if has something more than a name to go on. I'm hoping to find that something in her stuff."

  Maggie tried to remember what she and Dixie had packed into the boxes, when they'd cleaned out Star's apartment. But she'd been so upset by Star's death, she really hadn't paid that much attention.

  "There's not much," she said hesitantly. "Clothes. Shoes. A few personal items."

  "What about a checkbook or canceled checks?"

  She shook her head. "Star didn't have a bank account. She lived on a cash basis and pretty much from paycheck to paycheck."

  "There has to be something," he said in frustration.

  Though Maggie doubted he would find anything that would offer him a clue to Star's past, she kept her suspicions to herself and rode in silence, that knot of dread in her stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing mile.

  When he pulled to a stop in front of her house, she had to force herself to open the door and climb out. Reaching into the back seat to unfasten the car seat, she hitched it on her hip and led the way to the front door. She passed her house key to Ace, waited while he unlocked the door, then followed him inside. She'd barely made it across the threshold, when he skidded to a stop and she bumped into his back.

  "Damn!" he swore, fanning the air in front of his face. "It's like an oven in here."

  She quickly set the car seat on the sofa.
"Sorry," she murmured and began opening windows. "I don't have air conditioning."

  He dragged a sleeve across the perspiration already beading on his forehead. "Are you that hard up for money?"

  Maggie had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him he ought to try poverty for awhile. Instead, she forced a smile and said, "A penny saved is a penny earned."

  He shot her a dark look. "Let's get this over with and get out of here, before we both melt."

  As anxious as he to leave, Maggie retrieved a box from her room, set it on the floor in front of him, then left to fetch another.

  By the time she returned with the second box, Ace had ripped the tape off the first and was dumping its contents onto the floor. Sinking to her knees opposite him, Maggie sniffed back tears as she watched him sort through the meager pile of Star's possessions.

  At the sound, Ace looked up at her. His hand stilled. "What's wrong with you?" he asked impatiently.

  She shook her head, her eyes filling. "It's just so sad."

  "What is?"

  "This," she said, gesturing to the articles of clothing he'd dumped onto the floor. "Twenty-two years, and this is all Star had to show for her life."

  Frowning, Ace drew his hands back and rubbed them up and down his thighs, suddenly feeling like a grave-robber. He didn't want to think about the woman who'd owned these things or what her life had been like. And he sure as hell didn't want to think about the part his father had played in that life or what difference he might have made if he'd assumed a more active role.

  Setting his jaw, he started stuffing the clothes back into the box. "Possessions don't mean anything. Not in the final count. It's what a person does with his or her life that matters."

  "I don't know that Star did anything with her life," Maggie said sadly, "other than give birth to Laura." She glanced toward the sofa, where the baby slept peacefully in the car seat. "But surely that must count for something."

  Ace looked over at the baby, then away just as quickly, his frown deepening. "Last I heard, they weren't handing out awards to single women for getting themselves knocked up."