Ooh Baby, Baby

by Diana K. Whitney

  Peggy hurried forward, hands extended. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Conway. I’ll take them. Mr. Conway…?”

  James T. Conway—Jimmy to his friends—had hoisted both carriers to eye level and was marching across the yard making peculiar kootchie-coo noises at the tiny occupants.

  Horrified, Peggy turned to Travis for help and found him with his head in the trunk. “That man has my babies!” she blurted.

  Travis straightened and passed the tapestry valise and a fat package of complimentary disposable diapers to Ted. “Jimmy likes kids.”

  Reaching back into the trunk, Travis retrieved the two stuffed elephants. Ted took them, too, then nodded happily at Peggy and followed his burly father into the duplex while Travis snapped his fingers at a slender, dark-haired teenager just beyond the cab’s hood. “Danny, come take this bag, will you?”

  “Sure, Uncle Travis.” The boy leapt forward, snatched the tote of complimentary baby supplies and gave Peggy a shy smile. “Congratulations, ma’am. You must be very proud.”

  The handsome adolescent was a younger version of Travis, with dark, puppy-dog eyes and a smile like a Texas sunrise. Peggy couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, Danny. Yes, I’m very proud.” Noting a few wood chips nested in the young man’s ruffled hair, she nodded toward the partially cut stack of firewood. “Did you do that?”

  “Some.” Danny actually blushed. “Dad and Ted did most of the work. They’re the muscles of the family.”

  Travis slammed the trunk. “And Danny’s the brains.”

  Flushing wildly now, the boy peeked from beneath a fringe of thick, dark eyelashes that Peggy would personally have killed for. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that. She always claims that if brains were gunpowder, men still couldn’t blow their own noses.”

  “Your mama’s right,” Travis said, chuckling. “Women rule the world, and that’s a fact.” He took Peggy’s elbow, escorted her a few feet toward the house, then stopped abruptly. “Oops.” He loped back to the cab, reached in the open window and retrieved the yellow rose bouquet.

  A moment later, Peggy stepped onto the freshly laid planks of her porch, clutching her lovely flowers. Still dazed, she hesitated and glanced toward two smiling construction workers who were shuffling nearby, brushing sawdust off their sleeves and looking exceptionally pleased with themselves. “This is—” words nearly failed her “—wonderful,” she finished, feeling emotion clog her throat. “I never expected this. I—I can’t believe how much trouble you’ve all gone to for me.”

  Travis lightly nudged her with his elbow. “Aw, shucks, ma’am, it weren’t nothing.”

  When she stared up at him, he winked, reminding her of how she’d used the same words to tease him at the hospital. “Touché, Mr. Stockwell.”

  He shifted, used a fingertip to push back his hat and furrowed his brows into a frown that couldn’t conceal the amused sparkle in eyes that reminded her of sun-warmed cognac. “There you go, using them fancy foreign words on a poor old country boy.”

  Danny edged by them, pausing at the threshold. “Don’t let him yank your chain,” he told Peggy. “Uncle Travis turned down a mathematics scholarship and speaks three languages.” The boy swiveled aside to let his uncle’s booted foot kick empty air.

  “Smart aleck kid,” Travis mumbled, swatting his hat against his lean, denim-clad thighs. “Young’uns nowadays have no respect for their elders.”

  “Why did you turn down a scholarship?”

  Clearly uncomfortable, he shrugged, flexing his fingers around the Stetson’s brim. “I guess riding horses appealed to me more than fussing with figures. Besides, the thought of spending four years chained to a textbook gave me hives.”

  “So how did you learn so many languages?”

  “Where I come from, most folks speak passable Spanish. I picked up their way of talking, along with a smattering of French from some French-Canadian cowboys I ride with up in Quebec.” He tugged the crew neck of his T-shirt. “I took the liberty of unlocking the place, in case someone got thirsty or had to use the, ah, you know, facilities and such. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” Peggy stepped across the threshold, glanced over her shoulder and fought a smile. “Just one other question, Mr. Stockwell.”

  “Yes’m?”

  “Do you speak all those languages with a Texas accent?”

  “Why, yes, ma’am, I reckon I do.”

  “Just checking.” Her grin popped free, then froze as she stepped into her living room and saw Jimmy Conway finger-wrestling her two-day-old son.

  “Heck of a grip,” Jimmy told T.J., who peered up from his carrier while his baby fist clamped the man’s sausage-size index finger. “Why, I’d bet a month’s beer money you’re gonna be a champion calf roper when you grow up.”

  Travis strode inside, hooked his hat on a floor lamp and scowled down at his brother-in-law, who was perched on the edge of the sofa, leaning over the coffee table where the infants were side by side in their carriers. “Get your grubby paws off that baby,” he snapped at the big man. “You’re not sterile.”

  Jimmy glanced up, surprised. “Sterile? Hells bells, Travis, babies eat dirt and suck their own toes.”

  “Ms. Saxon?” Danny hovered in the kitchen doorway. “May I have a drink of water, ma’am? I’m feeling kind of parched.”

  “Hmm? Oh, help yourself, Danny.”

  “Yes’m, thank you.”

  “I put the diapers on the dresser,” Ted announced as he emerged from the tiny bedroom Peggy had fixed up as a nursery. “One package won’t last too long, though. One of Mom’s friends had twins a few years back—”

  Jimmy looked up. “You talking about Alma?”

  “And I remember her saying those babies went through two packs a day.” Ted frowned, scraping a fingernail over his sparsely whiskered chin. “Or was it one package every two days?”

  “I always liked Alma,” Jimmy said to no one in particular. “Ugly woman, but she baked right tasty pies.”

  Danny poked his head out of the kitchen, clutching half a glass of water in one hand and wiping his mouth with the back of the other. “Can I get you something, Ms. Saxon?”

  “Ah, no thank—”

  “I can pick up extra, if you want.”

  Peggy’s jittery gaze swung back to Ted. “Excuse me?”

  “Diapers, ma’am. Alma liked the kind with little Velcro doodads to, you know, keep ’em from falling off.”

  “Strawberry-rhubarb was the best,” Jimmy mumbled. “One bite made a man feel like he’d died and gone to heaven.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t like a glass of milk?” Danny asked. “Milk’s real good for you.”

  Jimmy’s eyes glazed dreamily. “The crust was so danged flaky, makes my mouth water just to think about it.”

  Ted flopped on a lounge chair and swiveled Virginia’s carrier around so he could tickle her chin. “About six packages oughta last a while, depending on how often they have to, well, you know.”

  “Maybe I oughta stop by Alma’s, see if she’s been doing any baking lately.”

  “How about orange juice? Vitamin C is good for you, too.”

  “Yep, six packages oughta do it, long as they don’t get the runs.”

  Overwhelmed, Peggy swayed slightly and was immediately propped up by firm hands and a strong shoulder.

  “You’d best sit,” Travis murmured, his face close enough that moist breath warmed her cheek. “You’re looking peaked.”

  She made no protest as he plucked the bouquet from her limp grasp, laid it on an end table, then slipped a solicitous arm around her waist and guided her toward the sofa.

  “Move it,” he growled.

  In response, Jimmy immediately retrieved his finger from T.J.’s tenacious grip and stood, backing away as Travis gently lowered Peggy to the sofa. “Is there something we can do for you?” Jimmy asked, clearly concerned.

  The question was aimed directly at Peggy, but it was Travis who an
swered. “Yeah, you can leave,” he snapped, plainly annoyed. “Can’t you see the lady is plumb tuckered by all your yapping?”

  Ted rose quickly, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Oh. Sure.” He sidled toward the door, crablike, his head bobbing. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to cause no distress.”

  Danny scuttled from the kitchen. “You’re all out of milk and juice, ma’am—” His eyes widened at Travis’s narrowed stare. “Oh, sure. Sorry.” He flashed a nervous smile, then darted out the front door.

  Jimmy planted himself beside the sofa, frowning, oblivious. “Would you like an extra pillow, ma’am?” he blurted, gesturing to the cushion on which she was seated. “After the boys was born, Sue Anne always found comfort in settling herself on something soft and kinda squishy, you know?”

  Travis moaned.

  Jimmy blinked. “What’d I say?”

  “That’s all right,” Peggy murmured, although she was certain her face must be glowing. “I’m fine, Jimmy, but thank you for, uh, your concern.”

  “What the lady needs,” Travis growled between his teeth, “is peace and quiet.”

  “Sure she does,” Jimmy mumbled, his attention riveted on Virginia’s sudden yawn. He grinned broadly. “Now, just look at that. Ain’t that the cutest thing? You know, she must have her daddy’s eyes, because…” His grin faded when he caught sight of Travis’s thunderous expression. “Oh. Sure. Gotcha.” Reflexively, he touched two fingers to his buzzed scalp as if respectfully tipping a nonexistent hat. “Was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Jimmy.” Peggy started to rise, was stopped by a sharp throb and settled for a sincere smile. “I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done.”

  “We was proud to help. If you need anything, you just call, hear?” His blue eyes gleamed.

  A moment later, the screen door squeaked open, then swished shut. Peggy let her head sag back into the cushions and sighed. Her head was swimming. “Gracious,” she murmured. “Talk about testosterone overload.”

  Travis cleared his throat. “Sorry, about that. Conway men do tend toward the rambunctious, but they don’t mean any harm.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “They’re charming, absolutely charming.”

  “They are?”

  “Umm.” Smiling, Peggy leaned forward to straighten Virginia’s carrier and tidy T.J.’s blanket. “I have to admit having so many Conways in the same room is a bit overwhelming, but I’ve never had more attention or felt more pampered in my entire life.”

  Travis was silent a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Something in his voice, sadness perhaps, or disapproval, made her look up. “Excuse me?”

  “A woman like you deserves a lot more than someone offering a glass of milk, or volunteering to pick up a few diapers.”

  Peggy averted her gaze the moment she felt the telltale sting of tears. When, she wondered, was the last time anyone told her that she actually deserved care, deserved concern, deserved anything at all? She couldn’t remember, although it had certainly been before her mother’s death. During her three years with Clyde, she’d been repeatedly told what he deserved and how she failed to provide it, but he had never concerned himself with his wife’s needs. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. Clyde had always been, well, Clyde. Peggy supposed she couldn’t fault him for being exactly what he was.

  But she did.

  The sofa cushion dipped. “Are you feeling ill? Should I call the doctor?”

  She turned her head away, dabbed her eyes. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m just—” She paused for a breath, then faced the gentle-eyed man seated beside her. “I’m just very touched, Travis. Touched and grateful for the kindness you and your friends have shown me. I never expected it.”

  His regarded her with wise eyes and a grim smile. “No, ma’am, I can see that, but it surprises me some.”

  “Why?”

  “Because where I come from, folks just naturally do for one another, and friends, well, friends are like family.” He cocked his head, absently running his knuckles over his hat-ruffled hair. “How long have you lived in Grand Springs?”

  “A few months.” Eight, to be precise. She continued to fuss with T.J.’s blanket, oblivious to the infant’s growing irritation. “We moved here last fall so my husband—my ex-husband—could capture a mountain winter on canvas. He’s an artist, you see. Unfortunately, the world has yet to discover his talent.”

  Travis nodded but said nothing.

  Peggy licked her lips. “Not that he didn’t bring in his share of the bacon. He found other work to supplement his income. In fact, he was working at the lodge last winter. Ski instructor.” Peggy wiped her face, forcing a thin smile. “He, uh, taught people to ski.”

  Travis nodded again, but not the out-of-habit-but-bored-stiff kind of nod. Instead, he was watching intently, offering every ounce of his attention. For Peggy, it was a startling revelation. She’d initially presumed Travis to be a typical example of the strong, silent type, but he wasn’t. Rather, he was a man who listened, who actually cared what others had to say. It was a unique talent, one with which Peggy had little experience.

  After a long moment, Travis shifted beside her. “So, did he?”

  Peggy gave him a blank stare. “He who?”

  “Your husband.”

  “Oh. What about him?”

  “Did he paint his snow pictures?”

  “A few.”

  “And then?”

  She looked away. “He left town last January.”

  “You didn’t go with him.”

  It wasn’t a question. Clearly she hadn’t gone with him, and she had no intention of discussing the reason why. “To tell you the truth, Mr. Stockwell, I’m feeling a bit fatigued.”

  He lowered his eyebrows. “Yes’m, I’m sure you are.” At that moment, T.J. flailed a tiny fist and emitted a fussy gurgle. “The babies, too, I reckon.”

  “He’s probably getting hungry,” Peggy said, leaning over to unfasten the carrier’s safety harness. She lifted the warm little body to her shoulder, cooing against his cheek. After a moment, she glanced up, seeing Travis still sitting there. “Well. Thank you again for all your help. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, but I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around here.”

  “Nope, not a thing.”

  A slow heat crawled up her throat. “I’m going to feed the babies.”

  He nodded, then widened his eyes in comprehension. “Oh, right.” He stood so quickly that his shin bumped the table, startling Virginia, who threw out her tiny arms and began to wail. “There, there, darling.” Travis reached down as if to touch the crying infant, then flexed his fingers and withdrew, looking stricken. “I’ll, ah, just wait outside.”

  Peggy stopped him as he made a move for the door. “Travis?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Yes’m?”

  “I’m fine, really. You don’t have to, well, hang around.”

  “I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “How soon?”

  He gave her a devilish grin. “Why, just as soon as your in-home assistance shows up,” he said.

  And Peggy’s heart sank.

  * * *

  An hour later, both babies were fed, changed and tucked into the two mismatched cribs Peggy had found at a local flea market. T.J. was already asleep, but Virginia was bright-eyed and alert. Peggy adjusted her daughter’s gown, then pulled a lightweight crib blanket over her. “Precious girl,” she murmured, stroking a silky little cheek. “Do you know how much Mommy loves you?”

  A dribble of milk oozed from the corner of her mouth. Peggy dabbed it with the soft burp towel hanging over the crib slats. She’d just redraped the towel when the room started to spin. The dizziness lasted only a moment, but it was long enough to weaken her knees.

  God, she was so tired, so very, very tired. Motherhood was obviously an exhausting profession. Peggy desperately needed sleep.

  Using
the walls to steady herself, she tiptoed out of the nursery and down the short hall to her own room, collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  * * *

  Peggy jolted upright, awakened by a baby’s cry. She rubbed her eyes, swayed and planted her palms on the mattress to keep herself upright. There was a brief surge of panic as she realized that she didn’t know whether she’d been asleep for minutes or hours. She swung her feet to the floor, testing the strength of her legs. Thankfully, they held her up.

  The baby’s wail filtered down the hallway, then stuttered to silence. Pushed by a rush of adrenaline, Peggy sprinted into the nursery, skidded to a stop and nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

  A strange woman was stealing her baby.

  Chapter Five

  The woman turned, tightening her grip on the tiny baby girl nested at her shoulder. Peggy’s heart, jolted by shock, raced in fear. She stepped back, bumped into a large, warm body and spun around with a yelp.

  Travis Stockwell reached out as if to steady her, eyed her raised fists and thought better of it. “I see you and Sue Anne have met,” he said, nodding toward the brick of a woman who flashed a warm, vaguely familiar smile.

  Bewildered and disoriented, Peggy Saxon dropped her arms, turned and stared at the dark-eyed, dark-haired person who was tenderly cuddling newborn Virginia in her mannish, muscular arms. “Sue Anne…your sister?”

  “Guilty as charged,” Sue Anne said cheerfully. “I’ve got to tell you, hon, these are two of the cutest babes I ever laid eyes on. Now I see where they got those adorable feathers of red hair. Whoa, sweetie!” She turned her face toward the blinking infant. “My, that was a big one. Betcha feel better now, hmm?”

  Peggy moistened her lips, fighting the urge to leap forward and rip her child out of the stranger’s arms. “I’m pleased to meet you, but why— I mean, what—”

  “What am I doing here?”

  “That question did flash through my mind.”

  Chuckling, Sue Anne laid Ginny back into the crib, cooed once, tweaked the tiny little cheek and straightened, eyeing her brother with blatant amusement. “Tell her, Travis.”