The Baby Trail (Baby Bonds #2)

by Karen Rose Smith

  Gwen’s feisty assertiveness sometimes made him want to shake her, sometimes made him laugh, sometimes simply frustrated him. “You’ll fit in the plane.”

  Unbidden thoughts of last night nudged him. He’d awakened in a hot sweat because of a dream he’d had of the two of them rolling around in a hay loft.

  “You can just take off tomorrow?” he asked.

  “This is important, Garrett. I’ll do what I have to do. If I have to see double my patients on Monday, I will.”

  He had to admire her determination as well as her motivation, but he knew her own history was driving her as much as her worry over little Amy.

  “You can’t right what happened when you were a kid.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was reminded that he’d been trying to do the same thing since his friend had been kidnapped when he was nine.

  “I’m not trying to do that.”

  “Aren’t you? I don’t know what you think happened with Amy, but apparently her mother didn’t want her. She left her. End of story.”

  “That’s not the end of the story and you know it,” Gwen protested heatedly. “Why did she leave her? Did she want to leave her? Does she need support? Does she have any family? If she is a teenager and just had a baby? She might not even be making rational decisions. Don’t give me that end-of-story line.”

  “You want there to be a reason why your mother left you.”

  After a taut moment of silence, she nodded. “Of course, I do. I know there was, but I’ll never know what it was. Don’t you see? I need to prevent that from happening to Amy. I know what it’s done to me. I know my background is the reason my heart’s in this. Is there something wrong with that?”

  If his life was any indication, he shouldn’t see anything wrong with it. She was using her sadness to try to improve a situation. Isn’t that what he did every time he searched for a lost child? He’d lost a friend, he’d lost his marriage and he’d lost a baby. Was he trying to make up for all of that by reuniting kids with their parents?

  Damn straight, he was.

  “All right, we’ll leave around 8:00 a.m., weather permitting. Can you meet me at the hangar?”

  “Sure. Is there anything in particular I should bring along?”

  “In case we crash, survive and have to live in the wilds of Wyoming for a week?”

  “You have a terrific sense of melodrama,” she complained. “You should have been a script writer. No, I was thinking about lunch.”

  Garrett couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. For whatever else Gwen was, she was a match for him and he liked that.

  “I’ll spring for lunch when we get to Laramie.”

  Gwen checked her watch. “I have to go. I have a home visit and I don’t want to be late.” Then she gazed at him with wide brown eyes. “We are going to find this mother, aren’t we?”

  “We’re going to do our best.”

  As he walked with Gwen to the nurses’ desk, he knew that in the past his best hadn’t always been good enough.

  This time, however, in his gut, he knew his best was going to find this mother. He also understood that Gwen wasn’t going to let him do it alone.

  Chapter Five

  “You drove all the way from Wild Horse Junction to ask me what I knitted with my yarn? Haven’t you heard of that modern invention called the telephone?” Bonnie Treadway asked, as Gwen and Garrett sat in her lace-curtained living room.

  A petite woman, dressed in jeans and a plaid blouse with short cropped gray hair, she looked like someone’s energetic grandmother, Gwen thought as she studied her.

  They hadn’t flown to Laramie after all. Storm cells had moved in so Garrett decided to drive.

  “As I explained,” Garrett said, “I’m investigating a case and personally tracking down every lead I can find. I learned of only three customers who bought that yarn from the Bows and Baskets craft shop. It was the first time she’d ordered it because it was expensive. One of the women hasn’t knitted anything with hers yet, another used hers for insets in an afghan. Can you tell us what you did with yours?”

  Bonnie smiled. “Of course I can, but I don’t see how it will help. It comes in those little skeins, and Flo only had three of them left when I bought it on sale. I barely had enough to make a baby sweater and hat.”

  Garrett followed up with, “Did you give them to anyone special?”

  There was absolutely no hesitation when Bonnie answered and Gwen knew she had nothing to hide…and no one to protect.

  “Sure, I gave it to the Thrift Store. I often make sweaters and little hats and donate them. It’s my way of contributing to charity. I can’t do much else on Social Security. It was a treat finding that yarn at a price I could afford.”

  When Garrett exchanged a look with Gwen, she knew what he was thinking. This might be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Then again, Laramie was a town of about thirty thousand. There were loads of specialty shops behind quaint Victorian facades that were geared at tourists. But this time of year, tourists dwindled off, and locals were more likely to shop at the Thrift Store. They could get lucky.

  “Where is this thrift shop located?”

  “It’s over on South Second Street by the Children’s Museum. You can’t miss it. There’s a bright green awning with Thrift Store stenciled on it. It’s not open on Fridays, though.”

  “Not open?” Gwen thought Friday would be a high traffic day.

  “Nope. It’s hard for Flo to get help on Fridays, and she’s gone all day. She takes turns with her sisters sitting with her mother. Friday is her day. She should be open tomorrow. She’s listed in the phone book under F. Wiggins. She’s a widow, too.”

  “You’ve been helpful, Mrs. Treadway,” Garrett said, standing now. “Thank you for answering our questions.”

  “Can you tell me what this is all about? What kind of case are you working on?”

  After Garrett debated a second or two, he answered, “A baby was abandoned. She was wearing a sweater and hat made with yarn like you bought. We’re trying to track down the mother or maybe some family.”

  “Goodness. And you think it might be my sweater and hat on that baby? Well, I wish you luck. Would you like some tea before you go? Maybe some cookies?”

  Garrett shook his head. “No, we’re fine. We’ll probably stop at that bed-and-breakfast we passed coming in. Is it a good one?”

  “The Lantern Inn? The blue house with the white trim?” Bonnie asked.

  Garrett nodded.

  “That’s Cora and Abe Martin’s place. Yes, it’s wonderful. She serves the best breakfast in town and provides lunches, too. I think she has five rooms. This time of year, you’ll probably be able to get one…or maybe even two.” She looked quizzically at Garrett and back to Gwen.

  Although Bonnie Treadway was nice, Gwen wasn’t about to give her the details of her personal life. She also didn’t know if she liked the idea of staying overnight there with Garrett. Something about a bed-and-breakfast seemed a little too cozy.

  After they said their goodbyes to Bonnie and thanked her again, they walked to Garrett’s SUV. Once inside, Gwen thought about the drive to Laramie. There’d been small talk for a while, but that had soon ebbed away and Garrett had switched on the CD player. They’d made good time. It had taken about four hours. During the entire drive, Gwen had been supersensitive to everything about Garrett, from the scent of his aftershave to the movement of his leg on the accelerator and brake, his large hands on the steering wheel, his glances her way every now and then.

  Once in the car now, Garrett reached to the backseat, picking up a Laramie phone book. Quickly he paged through it. Phone in hand, he punched in the number for Flo Wiggins. “If no one answers, do you have a problem staying here overnight?”

  It was nice of him to ask after he’d already made up his mind. “And if I said I did?”

  “Is this a financial dilemma or a personal one?”

  What an interesting way to put it! “I can spring
for a room for tonight. Why a bed-and-breakfast rather than two motel rooms?” She didn’t emphasize the two, but he got the gist.

  “I want you to be safe. Bed-and-breakfasts are usually a little more secure. They have an investment to protect. Plus they’re usually a bit more comfortable.”

  She couldn’t argue with him, because she felt the same way. Often when she traveled, she searched out B-and-Bs rather than staying in a motel. “I should let my dad know I’m out of town. I don’t want him to try to get hold of me and worry. Saturday morning he often calls to see if I want to go for breakfast.”

  “And do you?”

  “Sure. I can see how he’s doing that way.”

  Garrett’s brows arched. “Meaning you can check up on him.”

  “I’ve separated my life from his now,” she assured him softly.

  “Gwen, you do realize you weren’t the reason he drank?”

  His question made her breath catch. When she was a kid, she’d blamed herself. But as an adult… “My adopted mother was the reason he drank, but I let him drink.”

  Emphatically, Garrett shook his head. “You were a kid. My guess is, once he was into drinking a couple of years, he didn’t even remember why he was drinking—your mom, Nam, the responsibility of raising a child alone. You get so used to numbing the pain, you just don’t want to feel anything.”

  All of Gwen’s annoyance at Garrett’s know-best attitude went quiet. “You sound as if you know.”

  Silence filled the SUV. Drizzle from the gray clouds dripped down the windshield.

  After a few moments, Garrett responded, “I’ve never used alcohol to drown my sorrows if that’s what you mean, but in the work I did, I had to turn off my emotions. I had to think like a computer at times—no heart. When a man does that, sometimes he can’t turn it back on again.”

  “You mean like…with your wife.”

  This time she really thought he wouldn’t reply, but then he answered, “Yes, with my wife.”

  Tossing the phone book into the backseat, he cut off their conversation. “Let’s see if the Lantern Inn has two rooms.”

  The Martins, who were a couple in their late forties, welcomed Gwen and Garrett to their B-and-B. A fire was blazing in the parlor where the reservation desk was located and Garrett noticed the bottle of wine and cookies set out for guests. There were also insulated decanters of coffee and hot water for tea. The parlor seemed to be scented with something and he noticed a dish of potpourri sitting on an occasional table.

  “This is beautiful,” Gwen said, looking up at the crown molding around the ceiling.

  Mrs. Martin smiled. “It’s been in Abe’s family for three generations.”

  Figuring the women could easily become embroiled in a conversation about the history of the house, the fabric on the chairs…anything…Garrett got to the point. “Do you have any vacancies for tonight? We need two rooms.”

  He was still a bit unnerved by what he’d said to Gwen about his marriage. He didn’t know where it had come from, just that it had been lurking in his mind for a long time. He didn’t empty his soul so easily and he felt that’s what he’d done.

  “Why, yes, we have vacancies,” Mrs. Martin told him with a nod. “We even have two rooms, but they connect with a shared bathroom. Would they suit?”

  Connecting with a shared bathroom. Temptation—a hop, skip and a jump away. Not exactly what he had in mind. It looked like a nice place, though. He’d seen the hefty lock on the door and the panel for the security system. He wasn’t an expert, but most of the furniture looked like antiques.

  His gaze locked to Gwen’s. “Do you have a problem with connecting rooms?”

  He supposed he could have pulled her into the hall for this conversation, yet the Martins still could have overheard.

  “Do both rooms have doors leading into the bathroom?” Gwen asked.

  “Why, yes, they do.”

  To Garrett she replied, “I don’t have a problem.”

  However, he saw a flicker in her eyes. Anxiety? Anticipation? He wasn’t sure.

  “Wonderful,” Mrs. Martin exclaimed.

  Her husband added, “We just need a credit card.”

  While Gwen reached into her purse, Garrett pulled out his wallet.

  Her hand covered his. “Let me take care of this.” She lowered her voice. “You’re doing this for me.”

  Gwen’s fingers on his hand created all sorts of electric signals shooting to his brain, letting desire escape from the box where he’d kept it dormant all day.

  The Martins were watching them with interest and he didn’t want to cause a scene. He also knew Gwen’s pride was important to her just as his was important to him.

  “All right,” he decided, pulling away from her touch, pulling away from feelings that had been bubbling up since he’d met Gwen. He’d had them stowed away for so long….

  “If you folks would like a light supper, we can bring it to your rooms. We have roast beef sandwiches, a fresh vegetable dish, my own potato salad and peanut butter pie for dessert.”

  With a glance out the window, Garrett could see the rain was heavier now. “That sounds good to me.” When he checked with Gwen, she nodded.

  Minutes later, they were following Mrs. Martin up two flights of stairs to the third floor. Both rooms, one decorated in lilac-flowered chintz, the other in blue, had slanted ceilings. The rain pattered on the roof.

  When the hostess left them, Gwen could feel the intimacy of the space. It felt as if the two of them were on top of the world…alone. Nervously, she moved into the bathroom with its large shower, double vanity and other accoutrements. There was even a warming rack for towels.

  “Blue room or purple one?” Garrett asked her.

  “The purple one,” Gwen decided. “This place really is charming. They seem like nice people.”

  Standing in the bathroom with Garrett, Gwen felt the familiarity of it. She was alone with a strange man in rooms practically secluded from the rest of the house.

  “Are you really all right with this?” he asked her, obviously sensing some of her concern.

  She wrapped her arms around herself as though she was chilled. She wasn’t afraid of him. It was just…the situation was unusual.

  Unexpectedly he reached out, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You can trust me, Gwen. You’re safe with me. If this isn’t comfortable for you, we can find a motel.”

  When she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Yet she didn’t have to read his thoughts to know she could trust him. Ever since Mark had left her waiting with her dad in the vestibule of the church, she had wondered about her judgment, especially concerning men. Instinct told her Garrett could be trusted. But were her instincts right or skewed by the attraction between them?

  “Our doors lock,” he added gruffly.

  “Yes, I know they do. I’ll be fine. This is fine.”

  “Good. I think I’ll get a shower,” he decided, looking relieved. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll call Dad. And I’ll try to call Flo once again. If I get hold of her, maybe she wouldn’t mind a visit tonight.”

  He was still clasping her shoulders and she knew she should move away.

  He didn’t seem eager to cut off their contact, either. “I want to kiss you again, but I think we decided that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  Maybe he was waiting for consent from her, for her to tell him she’d changed almost overnight to a woman who would go for a quickie in a bed-and-breakfast, if not a barn, with a man she still didn’t know very well. She did want to feel Garrett’s lips on hers. She almost ached to have his touch on her skin again. Yet she hadn’t changed. She always looked at consequences before she leaped. Making love with Garrett was a leap that could land her into a very deep ravine.

  “I’ll go make those calls.”

  He dropped his hands and stepped away. He wouldn’t push or coax or persuade. She knew he wasn’t that kind of man.

&nb
sp; Leaving the bathroom, she closed her door and leaned against it, breathing hard as if she’d just run a race.

  After Gwen called her dad and left a message, she tried Flo Wiggins’s number again and got no answer. She paced the room. She needed a toothbrush and toothpaste. She needed a book to read. She needed something to distract her from being up here with Garrett.

  The water was running now in the shower and she thought about him naked, standing there, letting the water sluice on his face, his chest, his…

  Blowing out a breath, she grabbed her jacket and hurried to the stairs. There was a drugstore kitty-corner from the inn. She could find everything she needed there. Maybe she’d even pick up a razor for Garrett. Beard stubble on his strong jaw would only make him look sexier. He was already sexy enough!

  After Garrett finished showering, he toweled off, stepped into his jeans without underwear. He thought about Gwen just behind that closed door. Staying overnight here had been a stupid idea. If they’d gone to a motel and he’d worried about her safety, he could have sat in the car outside her door.

  Thinking about stepping into a cold shower again, he carefully zipped his jeans. Usually he kept a duffel of extra clothes in his SUV, but this trip he’d been distracted. He was definitely losing his edge.

  Because of the woman?

  He almost guffawed at that.

  After he went to his bedroom, he looked at his shirt. He could just leave it off, but they had to get through dinner together, yet, and the way his mind had been racing, he’d be imagining her lips and her hands on him.

  Disgusted with himself, he shrugged into the shirt and buttoned it quickly, not bothering to tuck it in. A few minutes later, after donning socks and boots, he stood at the door to Gwen’s room and rapped.

  When she didn’t answer, he frowned. Maybe she’d fallen asleep.

  Calling her name, he opened the door. She was nowhere to be found. That seemed odd. He stepped into the hall, his heart beating faster. Maybe she’d gone downstairs to talk to Mrs. Martin.

  But after inquiring if the hostess had seen Gwen, he found out she hadn’t and worry tangled his insides. After checking outside, he found Gwen was nowhere around the SUV. And why would she be? She didn’t have a key.