by Jenna Kernan
“Thanks for helping me take care of her, Lori.”
“Of course.” She rocked from heel to toe, delaying their parting. They were completely alone now, and she found her will to resist Jake Redhorse crumbling.
She tented her brows and waited for him to make the first move. He didn’t.
“Good night, Lori.”
She dropped her gaze, letting the disappointment seep through her. He’d kissed her in front of the station. Why not now?
He glanced from her to the couch, all made up and waiting, and she had her answer. Jake had already calculated what would happen next. Stealing a kiss was one thing. Being alone with her for an entire night was quite another. Her lust died at this confirmation that Jake, while attracted to her, was not interested in a relationship with her.
The temptation that neither one of them had ever had any control over was leaping between them again. Just like high school. Only now Lori was older and wiser.
Well, older anyway.
“You’re not taking the other bedroom?” she asked.
“It’s an office. No bed.”
“Ah. Well, good night, Jake.”
He stepped in and kissed her on the top of her head, as if she were both six and his sister. She cast her eyes down but did not close them, and so she saw the evidence of his arousal, clearly visible and jutting from his loose sweats. Her desire was more secret but still there in the aching wetness and the rapid draw of breath. He pushed her toward the hallway.
She left and only paused to glance back at him once before heading into Daniel Wetselline’s bedroom to check on Fortune. The infant slept peacefully, so she headed to bed.
The sheets were cold as she slipped in between them and dragged up the covers. She imagined Jake out in the living room, nearly naked, fully aroused. The lure of him dangled before her, and she struggled to resist the urge to go to him. She succeeded only when she thought of him checking that the coast was clear before kissing her.
They were alone now and no one was looking, but he still saw her and their baby as a mistake.
* * *
THE SQUAWK OF an infant woke her and she thought for a moment that she had dozed off at work, until she found herself stretched out in an unfamiliar bed. She groped in the dark to find the bedside table and her phone, which illuminated at her touch to tell her it was 3:21 a.m. on Monday morning.
She rose as her thoughts and memories fused to bring back where she was and why she was here. This was the guest bedroom in the home of tribal police officer Daniel Wetselline. She was here with Fortune, who slept in her bassinet just across the room. The baby girl cried in her tiny, quavering voice, but by the time Lori rose, she spotted a familiar shadow appear in the doorway and move to Fortune. Jake lifted her and rested her against his broad bare chest. He stood in only a pair of low-slung cotton sweatpants, his shirt abandoned for sleep. Fortune continued to wail as Lori flicked on the bedside lamp. Her skin was so pink against the smooth brown of Jake’s neck and shoulder. One big hand cupped her bottom, and the other her head and neck. The baby’s cheek was pressed to his skin.
“I’ll get her formula,” said Lori, changing course toward the kitchen.
Jake nodded. “I’ll change her and be right out.”
“You change diapers? Since when?” She cast him a smile over her shoulder.
“I watched some infant care videos on my phone,” he said.
Lori motioned Jake to go ahead.
Jake lifted the baby, speaking in a low, comforting voice. Something twisted inside her as she watched him, glimpsing the life they might have had.
This was like a dream, Lori thought. She felt as if she were staring at the scene she had pictured so often: Jake with their baby girl in the home they never made.
She stepped closer. His back was to her, but she could see he held Fortune in his arms and was telling her what a beautiful girl she was. The infant made little cooing sounds as Jake set her on the dresser, now draped in a padded portable changing mat. He made short work of the bundling and got right to work with a gentle manner she rarely saw. Her insides were turning to mush, and she had to force herself not to reach out to him. He had the fresh diaper out and was studying it. He turned, casting her a smile that nearly melted her into a puddle. Those white teeth and that handsome face—he’d only gotten better-looking as he’d grown. His jaw and brow were more prominent, and the dark stubble on his cheeks left no doubt that this was now a man.
He waved the diaper. “Is this the front?”
She nodded and stepped forward, taking the diaper.
“It’s so small,” he said.
She set the diaper in place, finding Fortune clean and dry. The soiled diaper lay in a tight ball beside her onesie.
“Yes. Newborn size.” Lori showed him how to fasten the diaper and then let him wrap Fortune back in her bundling. She lay still, with big blue eyes staring up at them. What must she think, looking at them standing over her?
They worked like new parents, but this was not their child. That time had never come to be. But why, then, were they here now? It seemed as if the universe had sent them back to repeat a turn that they had missed.
“Strange, isn’t it?” she asked.
His smile seemed one of complete contentment. “Hmm?”
“Being here like this.”
“Yeah.” He wrapped Fortune in a soft cotton blanket, lifted her to his shoulder and turned to speak to the baby. “You hungry, my girl?”
Only, she wasn’t his. Could he make her so?
Lori followed Jake to the kitchen. He rocked the baby as she heated the formula, checking the temperature because of the unfamiliar microwave. Fortune’s sounds were becoming more demanding when she offered him the bottle.
“Me?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He carried Fortune to the living room and the large, lopsided recliner. Then he sat and lifted the bottle to the baby’s lips. Fortune latched on and Lori again felt her breasts tighten. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched Jake with the baby. He had a marvelous dumb grin on his face, as if hypnotized by the infant as she sucked. He glanced up and cast her a look of amazement.
“She’s really hungry.”
Lori smiled past the lump in her throat. Jake would have made a wonderful father. They might have had another child already, possibly two or three. And he’d be working at whatever job he could find, and she’d still be a cashier at the grocery store. They’d be broke, surviving until the yearly allotment like most folks here. That was when livestock was purchased and roofs repaired.
She pictured that life, gone now. And she compared it to what she had, material things, an education and a career she loved.
Her heart gave her no doubts—she wanted what she had missed. Worse still, she wanted a family with this man, which was terrible trouble because Jake still saw her as the girl she had been, or perhaps the one she had been cast as by others. If he wanted her, he would not have dropped her to handle her grief alone after their child had died. Oh, he had attended the funeral and done everything else that was expected of him. And then he had slipped back into his life, shedding her like a snake sheds its skin.
Trying again with Jake was just stupid. She judged the girth of his shoulders and the flexing biceps that wrapped around the infant. She didn’t want a man like this, who could leave her behind so very easily. But her body wanted him. The longing in the pit of her stomach was growing by the hour. Was it best to address the desire or ignore it?
Sex and a relationship were not synonymous. She knew that—now that she was older. But somehow she believed that sleeping with Jake would be like pulling at a loose thread, and her carefully woven control would unravel. The first time she had fallen for him, she had not understood the risk she took or the pain that would follow his leaving. But if she let him in her heart again, she would deserve wh
at she got. She was wiser now. Wasn’t she?
She took a step closer. Could she keep this merely physical? Her heart clenched. Lori gave in, resigning herself. His appeal was too strong. She could not resist touching him again.
“You do that so well,” she said.
He glanced at Lori and smiled but then returned his attention to Fortune. She’d seen that blissful look of total happiness before, but usually in the faces of young parents at the clinic. Jake, she realized, was bonding with that baby. And what would happen when they took her away from him?
It seemed cruel of the universe to take two infants from them. But that was what would happen. Fortune would stay in the tribe’s clinic until the police finished their investigation. If no relatives could be found, then the infant would be situated in a temporary home and later placed for adoption. Lori had seen it before. They had a list of families willing to shelter newborns until permanent arrangements could be made within the tribe. But this was not an Apache baby. If looks were any judge, this one had none of the characteristics of the Tonto people. The Tonto Apache, their people, shared their roots with the Mountain Apache, but not their language. Of course, Fortune could have some trace of indigenous blood, but not the quarter required to claim status as a Turquoise Canyon Apache member. The only way around that rule was if she were adopted by one or more members of the tribe. Adoptive children were given full rights in their tribe. Always had been.
“Should we give her another bottle?” he asked as the baby drained the first.
“No. Too much food will upset her stomach. Lift her up and rub her back.”
Jake did so and Fortune burped. Jake laughed. The sound was infectious, and she laughed, as well. He brought the newborn down to rock in his arms. She stared up at him with a tiny wrinkle in her forehead.
He chuckled. “She doesn’t know what to make of me.”
Jake’s hair was loose around his shoulders now. His smile transformed him—he looked so happy it made her heart ache again. She held her smile as he glanced up at her.
“Isn’t she a beauty?”
She nodded. “All babies are beautiful.”
“How could someone just give her away?”
“Lots of reasons.”
He looked back at Fortune. “I’d never give her away.”
Uh-oh, she thought. This was trouble, because as far as she knew, the tribe had never given a baby to a single man. Jake’s chances of getting even temporary custody were slim. They had only sent him here with her as protection. Their tribe’s traditions had changed in many ways, but not so much that they were inclined to let a single man raise a baby who was not his by birth.
“Jake?” she said.
“She’s getting sleepy.” Jake began to speak to Fortune in Tonto Apache. He spoke well, she realized, but Jake had always been a good student. He told Fortune of their people, as if this infant was one of them or soon would be.
“You know it’s only temporary, right?” she asked.
“What?” he asked, still gazing down at Fortune.
“All this. The house, the family, that little baby. It’s not real. She’ll be placed in a foster home with a woman and hopefully a family. She won’t be placed with you.”
Now he looked at her, his brows descending, and she saw something she had never seen before—the protective glare of a parent facing a threat to his child.
“I found her,” he said. “I’m keeping her.”
Lori pressed her lips together and counted to ten. Then she spoke.
“You are not the only one in love with that baby girl.”
“You fixing to challenge me for custody?”
That was one way of playing it. Why did he always think she was after something?
“I’m not challenging you. I’m not trying to trap you. But the parents have rights.”
“Her mother left her with me.”
“That’s not the same as custody.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Lori, one thing I know is the law.”
“Fine.” She blew out a breath and let her gaze drift, then she brought it back to him. “I just want what is best for her.”
“And you’re saying that I’m not what’s best?”
“Parents who want her. Two of them. A home, Jake. That’s what’s best.”
Chapter Eleven
Jake showered, shaved and dressed in his uniform after Fortune’s second feeding a little after six o’clock in the morning. When he reached the kitchen to make coffee, he found the pot nearly full. He heard Lori make her way to the bathroom. What in the wide world was he going to do? He wanted Fortune and he wanted Lori. Regrettably, he had no idea how to convince Lori to stay or the tribe to give him temporary custody of Fortune. But he feared Lori was thinking of when she could get rid of him.
Lori had described how things were, the rational, practical explanation. Fortune needed two parents, and no matter how he played it in his mind, he couldn’t figure how he’d work and care for a newborn. But Jake was determined to figure out a way to make this happen. Maybe they could have joint temporary custody, or he could have Lori stay with Fortune at night and he could have her during the day. The guys on the force would be delighted to have him take nights.
“Yeah, that will work,” he muttered and poured a cup of coffee. That first swallow was always necessary. The second was a pleasure. He stood at the sink. The dirty dishes there showed she’d already had some coffee, likely while he was in the shower. Avoiding him. Well, that was just great.
He looked at nothing in particular as he tried to determine what to do next. Toast, he decided and began preparations.
Lori didn’t seem to want this baby. Well, he’d found that baby girl and he was keeping her, one way or another. He wanted Lori, too, but in a lustful way that he was not sure translated to the sort of enduring partnership needed to raise a child. And she clearly held a grudge against him, which he might deserve. He’d almost kissed her again this morning, when they were changing Fortune. He knew this was more than just scratching an itch or taking a stroll down memory lane. The flame still burned, all right—scorched, in fact. Had it really been as good as he remembered?
“Better,” he said and drained the remains of his coffee and then retrieved his toast. He slathered it with peanut butter, then ate standing up at the sink as he drained a second cup of coffee. This was how he usually ate—alone, standing up in his kitchen. And he hated it.
He wanted a family. He wanted Lori, despite what everyone thought of them or what had happened. Did anyone but his mother really care anymore? Lori still cared. That was certain.
The sound of something striking the glass above the sink made him jump. His gaze flicked to the backyard. Just then the pebbles struck the window again, and he spotted Ty standing with Hemi in the yard beside the empty, leaning birdbath.
Hopefully, Ty had some information from his attempt at tracking Fortune’s mother and he wasn’t there about another problem relating to their brother Colt.
Jake went to the back door. His gaze flicked to Colt’s truck, the one Ty had customized for his baby brother. The one Jake had borrowed without permission. He was sure Ty would have something to say about that.
Ty had purchased an old truck for Kee and somehow kept the heap running all through med school but had never offered a vehicle to Jake, and it rankled him more than he cared to admit.
Up until yesterday, he and Ty hadn’t really talked much.
Jake sighed. Ty wouldn’t talk to him. Kee avoided coming home, except to check on their mother’s diabetes, and seemed to be setting up a whole new life in Darabee near the hospital with a group of professional friends Jake had never met. Abbie had a boyfriend, which opened all kinds of terrifying possibilities. And Colt, well, he was here but just gone.
Jake cleared the
door and descended to the yard. The air held a morning chill, and the sky had turned a soft peach in preparation for sunrise.
“I didn’t hear you pull up,” said Jake.
“Because I didn’t. I parked in the woods a ways back.”
Jake resented that Ty avoided ever being seen with him. It hurt to know that his brother so disapproved of him. Was that why Ty had been so insistent that Jake never join the gang? He’d actually burned those bridges early by making sure that Jake was unwelcome there. He had made it clear that the gang was his family. Jake could go find his own. And he had, in the tribal police department. Now those guys were more like brothers to him than either Kee or Ty. When had that happened?
“Hemi got a hit. Tracked the mother to a house.”
Everyone, including Jake, assumed the mother had driven in and dropped the baby, then left. But no one could explain to him how the mother had known that Jake was a tribal police officer.
“She didn’t come in a car?”
“Seems not. Whoever she is, she’s staying with a neighbor of yours—or was, anyway.”
“Which one?”
“The Colelay family.”
“Colelay?” Jake puzzled over that. He knew this particular family, as he had been there on more than one occasion for domestic disputes. There had even been consideration of removing the children from Mrs. Colelay’s custody. She was an addict and alcoholic and spent more on her habits than on her children’s maintenance. She had no husband but a series of relationships, and at Jake’s last count she had seven children by various fathers.
“You think Irma Colelay had that child?” asked Jake.
“How do I know? You asked me to track the mother and I tracked her. She left your house and went to the line of pines. She was there a while, according to Hemi. She left and went to the Colelay house, and then she came back by the back door and stood near the road in the pines again.” Ty scratched the thick scruff around the neck of his dog.
Jake thanked Ty for the information. Ty straightened and regarded Jake in silence for a moment.
“I see you have Colt’s truck.”