"Monday night I'm leaving for Florida." Mrs. Krauss rammed a baseball cap on her graying hair. "My sister's sick. Don't know when I'll be back."
"No." Lara hurried after the older woman. "You can't do that, Mrs. Krauss! You can't just— just leave me in the lurch!"
"I'll call, when I get back," Mrs. Krauss said, and slammed the door.
Lara stared after her retreating figure. Then she slumped back against the wall and groaned. Now what? The day care centers had endless waiting lists. Not that she wanted to leave Michael in a place where he'd be one solitary little boy among many. It was bad enough he didn't have a fulltime mother or a grandmother or aunt who even pretended to care about him...
Lara blew out her breath, locked the door, then climbed the stairs to the second floor.
That was tomorrow's problem. She'd phone the agencies and, if worse came to worse, she'd call in sick on Monday. She had meetings but she could reschedule them. Nothing was as important as Michael.
He was in his blue-and-white bedroom, fast asleep, tucked into his crib with his beloved teddy bear curled in his arm. One glance at her sleeping son, and the tensions of the impossible evening seeped from Lara's bones.
Her bedroom adjoined his. Quietly she kicked off her black pumps, shed her suit and blouse, traded the identifying armor of her career for an old cotton robe and bare feet. This was the only career she wanted now, the only one that mattered, she thought as she lifted Michael gently from his crib.
It wasn't possible to be with him full-time. She needed her job to support her little family but oh, how she envied the handful of women she saw in the park on those rare, wonderful weekdays she stayed home to care for her baby.
Michael stirred in her arms.
"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered.
He blinked, then opened his eyes. He gave a bleary smile and she caught her breath as she looked at her son.
He had his father's black hair. His nose, and even his chin. There was no mistaking those smoky-gray eyes...
There was no pretending her child was not Slade Baron's son.
Fear rolled in her blood. What would Slade do if he found out? The games he thought she'd played were nothing compared with this one. This game had the highest stakes of all.
Michael yawned and murmured sleepily as she settled in the rocking chair. Minutes slipped by, and memories, as she snuggled him to her breast. It had been hard, at first. Putting in for the transfer from Atlanta. Inventing a husband and a divorce because that made for fewer questions. Being alone, always alone...
The doorbell rang.
Lara's head jerked up at the sound.
The doorbell, at this hour?
The bell rang again, and Michael-asleep now-stirred in her arms.
She rose from the rocker, carefully lay him in his crib. It had to be Mrs. Krauss. Maybe it was just as well she was caving. She was good with Michael-she seemed to be, anyway. But she was gruff. And forgetful. Last week, she'd teen halfway home before she'd realized she'd left her handbag in the kitchen.
The bell shrilled a third time as she ran down the stairs. "Mrs. Krauss," she said impatiently as she cracked the door, "for goodness sakes, you're going to wake-"
It wasn't Mrs. Krauss. It was Slade.
Lara slammed the door in his face. At least, she tried to, but he was quicker and stronger, and he'd had enough of playing games to last him a lifetime. She pushed, he pushed back, and just that easily, he was inside the house.
Slade knew he'd said he never chased a woman who belonged to another man, and he didn't. But Lara had spent the evening making him feel as if he were a disease she'd contracted instead of a man she'd made passionate love with through a long winter's night, and the reason for it was somebody named Michael. Well, he'd decided he wasn't leaving Baltimore until he had a look at this paragon of manly virtue-and maybe, just for kicks, flattened the bastard's nose.
A couple of beers at the bar where the cabbie had dropped him, followed by a walk around the block four or five times, had convinced him that was a sensible, even a necessary, thing to do.
Nobody, especially not Lara, was going to stop him. "Where is he?" Slade growled, and kicked the door shut. "Who?" Lara said. Michael, she thought, oh, Michael,
don't make a sound.
"Do us both a favor, okay?" Slade brushed past her and peered into the living room. "I know he's here, you know he's here. Let him come out and face me like a man."
"You're drunk," she said, and danced in front of him.
His smile glittered with hostility. "I tried, but trust me, Sugar, I'm stone-cold sober."
"I'll call the police. And don't bother threatening me, Slade. I don't give a damn if this ends up in court. Nobody at Beaufort will blame me for calling the cops after you broke into my house."
"Broke in? Me?" He gave a harsh laugh, stepped around her and looked in the kitchen. "We had dinner, took a cab and you invited me in. If you deny it, I'll just have to tell old Ed all about you and me and that Denver hotel." The living room was empty, and the tiny dining room. Slade started up the stairs. "Dammit, where is he? And don't lie to me, Lara. I know your precious Michael is here. You almost flew out of that cab, you were so damned eager to be with him."
"All right." Lara moistened her lips. "He's here. He'..he's sleeping. And if-if you wake him, he's going to be angry. He'll be hard to deal with."
Slade laughed as he strode down the hallway. It wasn't a pretty sound. "That's fine, Sugar. The mood I'm in, I'd just as soon lover-boy was hard to deal with tonight."
"Slade, please." God, oh God, he was at Michael's bedroom. Breathless, she cut in front of him again and barred the door with her body. "Don't. Don't!"
She whimpered as he clasped her waist and lifted her out of his way. She could feel the anger humming through his blood.
"Time to wake up, Michael my man," Slade said, and switched on the light.
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
SLADE'S flight to Dallas had already left, but there was another plane boarding just as he got to the airport.
He bought his ticket, ran for the gate and made it with seconds to spare. It occurred to him that he might end up standing around the Dallas airport, waiting to catch a connecting flight to Austin. Hell, he thought wryly, why not? Airports had been big in his life lately.
All he wanted right now was to put as much distance as possible between himself and what he'd just stumbled into.
A baby. Lara had a baby. He could hardly absorb it but he knew the image would be burned into his brain forever. The room, illuminated like a stage when the curtain lifts as he turned on the light. The crib, bathed in the glow.
And the kid, asleep in the crib.
Lord, the kid.
For a minute that hovered on the brink of eternity, nothing moved. He stood there. Lara stood there. Then, finally, she made a sound that was almost a moan. When she did, he swung toward her.
"You have a child," he'd said.
Slade groaned and put his head back. What a brilliant statement that had been.
Right about then the kid woke, sat up and clutched the crib railing. It was a boy, he'd thought numbly; he could tell by the fuzzy blue thing that covered it right down to its feet.
The kid had stared at him with a pair of huge, smoky gray eyes for a long minute, not crying, not making a sound, just.. just sort of checking him out, if such a thing were possible. Slade had stared right back, a chill running down his spine. Lara had a son. It was all he seemed capable of thinking. Then the kid's face dissolved and it began to cry. Lara flew past him, snatched the child in her arms.
"Michael," she crooned, "sweetheart, it's okay. Mama's here, Michael. Don't be afraid."
Slade, with a tongue that felt too big for his mouth, took a step back.
"Lara?" he said, and she turned to him, her face white, her eyes wild.
"Get out," she'd whispered, and then her voice rose, balanced on the edge of hysteria, and she'd screa
med the words again...
Not that she had to.
He'd done just what she said, got out as fast as his feet could carry him, got out without looking back.
Slade closed his eyes. This changed everything. It had been bad enough, knowing Lara had belonged to other men. A hundred of them, for all he knew. But she had a child. Another man had given her a child...
He jerked his head around and saw a woman slipping into the seat beside his.
"Is this taken? I haven't noticed anybody sitting in it, so
I thought-"
"No, I don't think it is."
She smiled. "Well, then, I'm Janet."
"Janet," Slade said. "Pretty name. Pretty voice. Pretty face, too." He cleared his throat. "The thing is, Janet, you'd be wasting your time. Or I'd be wasting it for you."
Her smile froze. "I beg your pardon?"
"It's a long, involved story, Janet, and I'm not much in the mood to tell it. So have a nice flight, and just don't expect anything from me. How's that sound?"
The woman sprang to her feet. "You're crazy!"
Slade gave a short, harsh laugh. "Yeah," he said wearily, "that, too."
He turned his face to the window. The image of the baby's face flashed against the dark glass. A shock of inky-black hair. Eyes the color of smoke...
Slade grabbed for the headset, jammed it on and punched in a track of hard, heavy rock. Anything, to stop his brain from whirling. Anything, he thought, and put his head back and closed his eyes.
He got to Espada in the middle of the night.
Carmen heard him come in the back door.
"It's Slade," he said, before she could shriek and set off enough noise to blast the entire house awake.
She smiled, waddled toward him and enclosed him in her arms for a hug.
"You are no different than when you were a boy," she said, holding him at arm's length. "Always sneaking into the house long after others were in bed."
"And you always covered for me with my old man." He smiled, kissed her cheek. "Just look at you. You're more beautiful than ever."
"And you are as good a liar as ever," she said, but she blushed. "Are you hungry? I can heat something from dinner, or make you a sandwich, if you prefer."
"All I want is a hot shower and a night's sleep. Is anybody else here yet?"
"Your brothers, you mean? Travis flies in tomorrow, as does Gage."
Slade grinned. "Gage, too, huh?" He bent down, kissed the housekeeper's cheek again. "You know what, Carmen? It's good to be home."
And it was.
It was even better the next morning, when he turned from the sideboard in the dining room just in time to see Catie flying toward him.
"Slade," she cried, and flung herself into his outstretched arms. "Carmen said you were here. When did you get in? Why didn't you wake me? Isn't it wonderful, that Travis and Gage are coming in today?"
"Whoa. That's too many questions before I've had my coffee. It's good to see you, darlin'."
"I'm so happy you're all going to be here." Caitlin kissed him again, then stepped away and poured coffee for them both. "Right up until the last second," she said, handing a cup to him, "I wasn't really sure any of you guys would show."
"And risk having you come after us with that mean little quirt of yours?" Slade grinned. "You don't know your own power, honey."
"Sure I do." Catie grinned over the rim of her cup. "I'm lean. I'm mean..."
"You're part of the team. The old Los Lobos cheer. Damned if I hadn't almost forgotten it."
"Well, not me. When I think of the rough time you all gave me before you let me join the pack..."
"You were a girl."
"How astute." Caitlin wrinkled her nose. "But I could ride a horse and swim that rough stretch in the creek as well as you guys by the time my mother and I had been here six months."
"Yeah. But you were still a girl."
"It's just a good thing the three of you idiots finally figured out that girls were okay."
Slade's smile tilted. "You are, anyway."
Caitlin's slender eyebrows arched. "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh?„
"As in, uh-oh, that sounds ominous. Don't tell me my handsome brother's having woman trouble."
"Me?" Slade put down the cup, went to the sideboard and spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate. "You know me, honey. I love 'em and leave 'em."
"You didn't answer my question."
Slade sighed. His stepsister could be persistent. "I wouldn't call it `trouble.' Just a, uh, a rough patch."
"What happened? Were you the one who got loved and left this time?"
He gave a choked laugh. "Catie, sweetheart, it's not that I don't appreciate your interest, but-"
"But you don't want to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about. I told you, I just hit a little bump in the road."
"Well, as you so cleverly pointed out, I'm female. Maybe I can give you some perspective on your, uh, your bump in the road."
Slade looked at his sister. Catie's smile radiated innocence. Oh, yeah. He could just imagine telling her about Lara. Well, he'd say, You see, kid, there's this babe I went to bed with and then didn't see for a long time, until just a couple of weeks ago. The thing is, I can't seem to keep my hands off her and it's the same with her, even though we don't much like each other-and oh, did I mention, I just found out she's got a kid? A little boy, with a thatch of inky-black hair...
"Slade?" Caitlin put her hand on his arm. "Slade, what's the matter? You look as if you just saw a ghost."
"Nothing. Nothing's the matter. I'm fine." He took a deep breath and flashed a smile. "My life's been crazy lately, that's all. A couple of days with you and Travis and Gage, I'll be fine."
"Amazin'," a deep voice drawled, "how my own flesh and blood jus' managed to leave any mention of his daddy out of that heart-warmin' little speech."
Slade stiffened and turned around. Jonas Baron stood in the doorway, as leathery, straight and tall as ever. "Father," Slade said politely, "it's good to see you." Jonas grinned. "Bull patties."
Bull patties, indeed, Slade thought Some things, at least, never changed.
By the time Travis arrived, Slade was feeling almost his old self again.
He wasn't so sure about Trav, who almost snapped his head off when he made a joke about Travis being knee-deep in blondes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Travis demanded, in a way that had once meant they were going to end up rolling around on the ground while they pummeled each other.
That, at least, had changed. Instead of decking him, Travis sighed, mumbled an apology and they laughed it off. Travis did, anyway. Slade just pretended to. Something was eating at his older brother, something female, probably, but Travis didn't want to talk about it. Well, that was understandable. What was the sense in discussing the problems you had with women when there was no logical way to solve them? Women were like crossword puzzles with some of the clues missing. Just when you thought you had a handle on figuring them out, you realized you didn't.
Gage arrived next and that was another shock, finding out that Natalie had left him. What was happening to the old Los Lobos pack, anyway? Still, they ended up laughing and joking, surviving a session with the old man that made it clear Travis was right when he'd figured Jonas was thinking about who would inherit Espada. The thing was, none of them wanted it. Catie did, and she deserved it, but the old s.o.b. couldn't get past the fact that she wasn't a Baron by birth.
"Lucky Catie," Slade muttered as he, Gage and Travis all trooped out to the old barn, and up to the hayloft.
After a while, their mood lightened. It was like old times, sitting around and joking about this and that. A guy named Grant Landon joined them. He was the old man's lawyer but Gage knew him, from a long time back. Landon turned out to be okay-and damned if he didn't have problems with his wife, just like Gage.
What was it, Slade wondered, as he dressed for Jonas's birthday party, that
made women so damned difficult to understand?
Natalie, walking out on Gage? Slade shook his head as be did the studs on his dress shirt. And from what the Landon guy said, the odds on his marriage hitting the rocks had been every bit as unbelievable.
Slade picked up his tie, drew it around his neck and turned toward the mirror.
Travis, at least, wasn't in trouble half as deep. He had something on his mind, all right, and it probably was a woman, but it had to be temporary. No way Trav would get himself seriously involved again, considering what he'd gone through the first time.
Hell, Slade thought, leaning closer to the mirror and frowning as he tried to get the bow tie right, nobody who'd grown up in the Baron household would get into a serious relationship, not unless he was nuts. Except for Gage, that was, and even so, look at the mess he was in now.
"Dammit," Slade said.
The tie just wouldn't lie right. One end was too long, the other too short. He could go down the hall, to Catie's room, ask her to fix it. She knew how to do bows. Women usually did. What about Lara? Could she tie a bow? Had she ever tied one for her ex-husband? He'd never asked her the guy's name, or what he did...
Or what was the color of his hair, or his eyes.
"Dammitall," Slade snarled. He yanked the tie off, jammed it into his pocket, threw open the door and went downstairs, to join the party.
Two hours later, he was having a wonderful time. That was what he told himself, anyway. If he said it often enough, he figured it just might turn out to be true.
It was what he told Catie, when she danced by in the arms of that old snake, cousin Leighton, and what he told Leighton's son, Gray, who was about as unlike his old man as it was possible to be. It was what he said to Marta, too, when he kissed her cheek and told her she was the most beautiful woman in the room.
"That's a charming lie," his stepmother said, smiling back at him, "but, coming from the best-looking man here,
Sandra Marton - Slade Baron’s Bride Page 8