The Unclaimed Baby

by Sherryl Woods

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Whatever you say, baby. You need anything, you let me know, okay?”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” As always, after talking with her father, Sharon Lynn felt safer, more reassured that all was right with her world. Despite her fierce protest to her father, she felt the same way with Cord around.

  So where the devil was he? She didn’t believe for an instant that he and Harlan Patrick were off on some male bonding ritual. Her brother had plenty of drinking buddies, if that’s all he needed. No, this had something to do with the baby. She would stake her life on it.

  She wandered into the bedroom to check on Ashley, then lingered just to watch her sleep. She couldn’t resist trailing a finger over the soft curve of her cheek.

  “Oh, sweetie, what’s going to happen to you?” she murmured. “And what will happen to me, if you have to go?”

  When she heard the knock on the front door, she jolted, then brushed away the tear that had been tracking down her cheek. When she finally got to the door, she found Cord waiting on the porch, his hands jammed into the pockets of his sheepskin-lined coat, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

  “Sorry to come by so late. Mind if I come in?”

  “Of course not.” She stepped aside, hoping he couldn’t tell how relieved she was to see him. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? You look half-frozen.”

  He nodded. “Coffee would be great.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, but instead of sitting, he leaned back against the counter and watched her. Feeling his gaze following her made her movements jerky. She splashed the water as she poured it into the coffeemaker, then scattered coffee grounds every which way.

  “Something wrong?” he asked finally, amusement threading through his voice.

  “You’re staring,” she admitted. “It’s making me nervous.” She turned to scowl at him, only to catch a smile hovering on his lips. “You don’t have to look so blasted pleased about it.”

  “Why not? I figure it has to be a coup to rattle your supreme self-confidence.”

  She stared at him. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You’re unflappable. Didn’t even let finding a baby on your doorstep cause you to miss a beat.”

  “Maybe I just don’t let it show.”

  He seemed skeptical. “You pride yourself on your acting skills, darlin’?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good, because you didn’t manage to hide the fact that you’d been crying when I turned up here. What was that about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Our girl’s okay?”

  “Ashley’s fine.”

  “Nothing new from Justin?”

  “Nothing,” she agreed.

  “Then why the tears?”

  “Something in my eye.”

  “Now, sweetheart, that’s not acting,” he chided. “That’s outright lying.”

  “You don’t have to know everything, you know.”

  “When it comes to you or Ashley, I do,” he said matter-of-factly.

  She decided enough was enough. It was time to turn the tables. “Does that work both ways?”

  He suddenly looked uneasy and evaded her direct gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean do I have a right to know what’s going on with you, if it has something to do with Ashley?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me what you and my brother have been up to the last couple of days?”

  He grinned. “You missed me.”

  He said it with an irritating touch of triumph. “No more than I would a stray cat who’d been coming around and then suddenly vanished,” she retorted.

  “Is that right?”

  “Do you intend to answer me or not?”

  “Maybe. In time. Right now, I’ll take some of that coffee, if it’s ready.”

  Sharon Lynn chafed at the delay, but she poured the coffee, then plunked herself down at the kitchen table. “Talk to me, Cord Branson.”

  He pulled out a chair, turned it backward and straddled it. “It’ll be my pleasure. Any particular topic you’re interested in?”

  “Cord!”

  “Okay, okay. Your brother and I were over in Garden City doing a little nosing around about Hazel Murdock.”

  Her heartbeat seemed to thud dully. “And?”

  “To tell you the truth, we didn’t find out much.”

  “Is she coming after the baby or not?” she asked, unable to keep the frantic note out of her voice.

  “I don’t know. I purposely avoided talking directly to her.”

  Sharon Lynn buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God, she is. I just know it.”

  “You don’t know any such thing. Be grateful that it’s taking her so long to make up her mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the longer it takes, the less likely the courts will view her as being the best person to raise the baby. They’ll have to wonder why she waited, if she was so concerned about the baby’s well-being.”

  Sharon Lynn sighed. It was something she hadn’t even considered, but it made sense. “You’re probably right. Why do you suppose she’s waiting?”

  “Having second thoughts would be my guess. From appearances, she’s had a tough life. I can’t imagine she’s any too eager to disrupt her current routine to care for a baby.”

  “Why? What’s her routine?”

  “Let’s just say she likes her afternoon toddy a little too much. There’s a bartender in Garden City who says not a day passes that she’s not in his establishment from sundown until he closes up.”

  His description was enough to solidify her resolve. She couldn’t turn Ashley over to a woman like that. Somehow, some way, she would protect the baby. Her baby.

  Oh, God, she thought as she realized what she’d been thinking. Her hand shook as she reached for her own cup of coffee. It had happened, just as everyone had warned it would.

  That innocent little baby wasn’t hers, she reminded herself sternly.

  But that wasn’t how it felt. In every way that counted, she felt as if she were Ashley’s mother.

  Chapter 12

  It had been a stressful day from beginning to end. The baby had awakened fussy and remained that way. Advice had been offered from every single customer who’d passed through Dolan’s. Sharon Lynn was ready to scream.

  “She’s teething,” one person said.

  “Too young,” Another had scoffed. “Probably colic.”

  “Maybe a little winter cold,” suggested another.

  When Cord walked in just after five, she glowered at him. “Don’t you start.”

  Rather than asking what the devil was wrong with her, he bypassed her completely and went to pluck the miserable baby from the portable crib. Only when he was pacing up and down with the baby gazing at him adoringly—and without a single tear—did he turn to Sharon Lynn.

  “Rough day?”

  “Oh, go to blazes,” she muttered, uncertain whether the remark was directed at him or the traitorous child in his arms. He did have a way with the baby that was enviable.

  He grinned and tickled Ashley, who gurgled delightedly. “Guess so,” he concluded, then gazed at the child in his arms. “Were you the cause of that?”

  The baby responded with a series of incomprehensible sounds. Cord nodded as if he’d understood every word. “Guess what she needs is a night on the town,” he concluded. “What do you think, little angel? Should we take her out to dinner?”

  “I’m not going out to dinner,” Sharon Lynn grumbled. “I’m going to go home and crawl into bed and pretend I’ve never met either one of you.”

  Cord gave her a look that would have singed steel. “Works for me. The crawling into bed part, anyway.”

  “You’re not invited,” she shot back, then sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.”

  “I can take it,” he said easily.

  She sank down onto a
stool at the counter and regarded him wistfully. “I just don’t get it. I have done everything I know how to do all day long and I could not get her to settle down. You walk in here and, bingo, she’s smiling and babbling.”

  “You know, darlin’, there are just some females who respond to a man’s touch. If you’d like, I can hold you and see if you won’t feel better, too.”

  Ah, the power of suggestion. She instantly thought of what it would be like to have those powerful arms of his folded tightly around her, of how reassuring it would be to rest her head against his chest, to listen to the beat of his heart. She imagined being surrounded by the clean, soap-and-water, all-male scent of him. It was tempting, all right. A little too tempting. And he, blast him, clearly knew exactly how easily he could get to her.

  Up until now, she had been very careful not to cross the line with Cord, not to let him think for even a second, that there would ever be anything between the two of them. Okay, there had been a kiss or two, but kisses happened all the time. Chaste kisses. Experimental kisses. Even the kind of breath-stealing kisses she’d shared with Cord didn’t have to foreshadow a relationship.

  She owed it to herself and to him not to muddy the waters now, just because she was exhausted and desperately in need of a hug. If she intended to spend the rest of her life single, she couldn’t start leaning on someone else the minute things got a little rough.

  “I think I’ll pass,” she said eventually, but even she could hear that her voice sounded choked and thick with longing.

  “You sure about that, darlin’?”

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered fervently.

  “You wouldn’t be scared now, would you? We were just talking about a little old hug, maybe an innocent little massage to get rid of the tension in those shoulders.” His gaze was as innocent as a lamb’s. “What’s the harm in that?”

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with a hug—if it came from a friend and not a man whose touches were beginning to worry her. She couldn’t pinpoint precisely when the effect of a casual caress had turned alarmingly dangerous, but it had happened, all right. Her pulse was zinging around right now like an Indy 500 leader in the final lap.

  There was certainly nothing inappropriate about a massage, either—especially one administered by a professional and not by a man whose intentions were not entirely honorable, if that gleam in his eyes was anything to judge by.

  “No harm,” she told him finally. “But I’ll pass just the same.”

  He gave the baby a sorrowful look. “Angel pie, I don’t know what we’re going to do about her,” he lamented. “She’s a very uptight lady.”

  Sharon Lynn didn’t especially like the label. “Well, you’d be uptight, too, if you were worried night and day that Ashley was going to be snatched away from you.”

  His expression sobered at once. “Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, clearly insulted by the criticism. “I am worried half to death about what the future holds when it comes to this baby girl. She means as much to me as she does to you. I don’t want you ever thinking otherwise.”

  She winced at his tone, which was a mix of anger and hurt. “I’m sorry. I know you care about her. I just figured it wouldn’t be the same for you.”

  “Well, it is,” he retorted. “Why the hell do you think Harlan Patrick and I went poking around over in Garden City? I don’t want this baby to wind up in the custody of the wrong person any more than you do.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  As if she sensed the tension suddenly brewing in the air between the adults, the baby began to whimper. At once, Cord’s expression softened. “Shh, sweetie. It’s okay. We’re just having a little discussion. Sometimes grown-ups don’t agree about things. It’s a fact of life.”

  Sharon Lynn couldn’t help smiling as the baby stared at him quizzically. “You talk to her as if she can understand every word.”

  “Maybe she does,” he countered. “Ashley’s a smart one. After all, who knows better than she does that all it really takes to be happy is a full tummy and someone to love her? Maybe we’d all be better off if we were wise enough to stick with those priorities.”

  She sensed yet another implied criticism in his words, “And I’m not wise enough to take you up on your offer, is that it? Do you honestly think you can make everything all right by taking me to dinner and giving me a shoulder to lean on?”

  He shrugged. “Seems to me it’s worth a try.”

  Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being uptight and skittish over nothing. Maybe he only intended kindness and she was reading way too much into it.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll go to dinner.”

  “Now there’s a gracious acceptance, if ever I’ve heard one.”

  “Take it or leave it.”

  “Oh, I’ll take it,” he said, then inquired innocently, “Want the hug before or after?”

  “We’ll discuss it after,” she said. Maybe in a couple of months, she thought. Better yet, a couple of years, when she could get a sharper grip on this tug of longing that kept sneaking up on her when she was around him.

  “Your friend here is not very spontaneous,” he told the baby, then regarded Sharon Lynn with amusement, “But I can work with that.”

  That was exactly what she was afraid of. If she let her guard down with Cord Branson for even an instant, things were going to get so spontaneous, so deliciously wicked, she might be thrown permanently off-kilter. She might even start to care. And that, she had vowed on the night Kyle was killed, was never going to happen again. She reminded herself that it was essential that no one—not that precious little baby and certainly not Cord—ever mean that much to her again.

  She gazed at Ashley then, felt a lump forming in her throat and realized yet again that it was too late. The vow was already broken. Ashley had breached all of her defenses and Cord was very much on the verge of doing the same.

  The realization left her feeling shaken. Though Cord did his best to cheer her up over a spaghetti dinner, she barely touched her food. Only because the baby was content in her carrier on the seat beside her did she manage to resist the urge to sweep her up and cling to her.

  “You’re a tough audience,” Cord grumbled when yet another of his attempts to coax a smile from her fell flat.

  “Sorry,” she apologized halfheartedly. “I’m not very good company.”

  “Maybe I’m just not enough of a distraction.”

  The rueful comment did exactly as he’d apparently intended. Her gaze met his for the first time all evening. As their gazes clashed, she realized that Cord could be a very fine distraction if only she’d let him. There was an unmistakable sizzle between them, though she’d done everything in her power to ignore it.

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” she muttered. “You could distract a saint.”

  He grinned. “Now that’s a promising remark. Are you actually flirting with me, Sharon Lynn?”

  “Absolutely not,” she insisted as if horrified, though she had to swallow a laugh at his blatant enthusiasm for the idea. There were some things about which Cord Branson was totally transparent…and others about which he was totally inscrutable.

  He looked disappointed now. “I wish you would do a little flirting now and again. It might be good for you.”

  “For me?” She all but hooted at that, then asked, “What’s the matter. Can’t you take being resistible?”

  “I can take it. I’m just not crazy about it.” His expression sobered. “At least not where you’re concerned.”

  “Don’t,” she protested, when it seemed the conversation had taken too serious a turn.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t go there,” she scolded. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”

  He seemed duly chastened by that. “Okay, then, no more teasing, even if it does make you smile.”

  “Other things can make me smile.”

  “Name one. I’ve been telling jokes all evening and nothing
.”

  She grinned. “Maybe that should tell you something about the quality of your jokes.”

  He shook his head. “Now you’re resorting to insults. I’m crushed.”

  “It would take a bulldozer to crush your ego.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand in his. Before she could blink, he’d lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Her knees actually went weak at that. She’d always thought that was just a romantic notion that never actually happened. Now she knew better.

  “You’re wrong about that,” he insisted. “You can do it with a word.”

  Something in his voice told Sharon Lynn he was telling the raw, unvarnished truth, that she had the power to shatter him with nothing more than a word. It was a power she didn’t want and yet, on some level, somewhere deep inside, the knowledge filled her with a kind of satisfaction.

  “Cord…” she began, but didn’t know how to go on.

  “It’s okay, darlin’. There’s nothing to be said about the truth. It just is.”

  The only thing he might have said that would have troubled her more was that he loved her. Gazing into his eyes, she had to wonder if that admission might not be right around the corner. What worried her even more was the awareness that a part of her yearned for the moment when he’d say it.

  Over the next few days Cord did his best to keep Sharon Lynn distracted while they waited for the blood test results or the appearance of Hazel Murdock. He wasn’t sure which he dreaded more. The blood test could confirm the woman’s claim to the baby, but her appearance in Los Piños would mean that she was serious about taking Ashley home with her. How would he be able to bear it? How would Sharon Lynn?

  She would be devastated. She was already as jittery as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. He’d seen her startled expression every time a female stranger had walked into Dolan’s. There was no mistaking the flare of panic in her eyes when a middle-aged woman she didn’t know offered to hold the baby while Sharon Lynn prepared her meal.

  “She’s fine in her crib,” Cord overheard Sharon Lynn saying emphatically as he walked in.