Baby Love
She sounded almost frightened. He recalled the panic he’d heard in her voice when she learned he’d bought a hot plate. Damn. He didn’t want to buy her. He just wanted to help her.
“Just look at yourself. How can you possibly work?” He caught the hem of the T-shirt to prevent her from moving away. “Hey, listen to me. We’ll work out some kind of arrangement. How’s that sound? Some way for you to pay me back—or work off the debt.”
She flashed him a scathing look.
“Nothing like that!” he assured her.
“How then?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m fairly accomplished at only three things: bookkeeping, waiting tables, and cleaning house. As near as I can tell, you aren’t exactly up to your eyebrows in daily receipts these days, you don’t own a table, and if you did, you have no house to put it in.”
Rafe nearly set her straight on that, but he bit back the words. What he did or didn’t own wasn’t the point.
“I care about what happens to you and that baby. You need a friend, and I’m willing to be that for you.”
“No,” she said softly. “I appreciate the offer. Truly I do. But I already owe you too much.”
“Who’s keeping a tally? I’m sure as hell not.”
She pulled from his grasp. Rafe couldn’t be sure, but it looked to him as if she swayed slightly as she stepped away, and she seemed to be breathing a little rapidly. “You say that now. Been there, done that.”
He stood up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There aren’t any free rides,” she said as she bent with painful slowness to collect her jacket and sweatshirt from the corner where he had tossed them. “What are you hoping to get out of it? A temporary ready-made family to replace the one you lost?”
That stung, possibly because it struck so close to the truth.
She sighed and passed a tremulous hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I’m already in so deep I’ll never be able to repay you. By your own admission, you’re growing attached to Jaimie. The longer you’re around him, the more wrenching it will be for you when we leave.”
Rafe couldn’t argue the point. He felt a little frantic when he thought of them going their separate ways. He’d head straight for the liquor store, and within an hour, he’d be drunk.
“Nobody helps someone, expecting nothing,” she said. “Everyone eventually wants a payback of some kind. I learned that the hard way.”
Judging by her expression, she obviously had learned a bitter lesson from someone. “Are we talking about people in general, or men, more specifically?” He knew the answer to that question. It was written all over her face.
“I’ve worked in a truck stop for ten years. Need I say more?”
She laid out the sweatshirt and jacket on the bed, preparing to wrap Jaimie in them before she left. Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell her that the makeshift blanket was no longer necessary, but he couldn’t see a way around it.
“You can use the blankets in the drawer, and I bought him a snowsuit.” He stepped over to open a sack. “I picked up a parka for you as well. I need my coat, and you can’t be running around out there in nothing but a T-shirt.”
She fixed wide, staring eyes on the winter outerwear. The panic in that look was impossible to miss. “You shouldn’t have. We’re not your worry.”
Rafe knew he shouldn’t get angry. It was just so frustrating. “Maybe I’m making you my worry.”
“Look, it was very thoughtful to buy us warm things. Truly, and I appreciate the gesture. But I wish you hadn’t, and I’d like you to return them.”
Gazing at her, Rafe thought of his home, a place he hadn’t been in quite some time, and all the advantages he could provide for her there. In that moment, he knew he couldn’t let her walk out. If he did, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it and wondering what had happened to her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
It’s time, Susan had told him in his dream. He didn’t know if she’d actually come to him. Rationally, he knew it was far more likely that the dream had been a product of wishful thinking. But what did it really matter? What did was that he’d actually had a similar conversation with Susan shortly before she died, and she’d extracted a promise from him that he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life alone if anything ever happened to her. Bless her heart, she’d done everything in her power that night to set him free—to let him know she wanted him to be happy.
Looking back on that night, Rafe had reason to wonder now if Susan had had some kind of premonition. Promise me, Rafe. I want your word that you’ll find someone else to love. At the time, he’d thought she was being silly. They’d both been young and in excellent health. He had laughed and tousled her hair, pointing out the possibility that he might marry unwisely on the rebound. Susan had given him a scolding look. You made a good choice the first time around, she’d reminded him. You will again. When you meet the right person, Rafe, you’ll know. You’ll look into her eyes, something magical will happen, and you’ll just know it’s right.
From the first moment he’d clapped eyes on Maggie, something had stirred back to life within him, and his feelings had been in a hopeless tangle ever since. Was he going to ignore that and keep walking?
A man found magic so rarely. When it came along, you either had the courage to throw caution to the wind and grab hold of it—or you forever lost the chance.
So what if his feelings for Maggie and Jaimie made no sense and didn’t conform to a timetable? For the first time in a very long while, he had a reason. She and the baby gave him something to care about, something to fight for, something to grab hold of that was solid. He couldn’t just turn loose of that now and say, Nice knowing you.
God help him, he needed her every bit as much as she needed him.
Maggie had worked as a waitress too many years not to recognize possessiveness in a man’s eyes, and she saw it in Rafe’s. She took a wobbly step in retreat and held up a shaky hand.
“I—I really have to go.”
“Name me one reason why.” He moved toward her, his long legs taking unhurried strides that seemed to eat up the distance at an alarmingly fast pace. “I haven’t always bummed the rails. Like I told you last night, I used to be a rancher. If we run out of money, I can call my brother and have him wire me some more. When I walked out, Maggie, it wasn’t just the ranch I left behind. I had a substantial amount of money in the bank as well. It’s just sitting there now, being put to no good use.”
Her heart caught, just at the suggestion. “You haven’t called home in two years. Now, suddenly, you’re ready to pick up the phone? No. Do it for yourself if you’re going to, but not for Jaimie and me. That’s a decision of the heart, one you need to make because it feels right.”
“Maybe I’ve just been waiting for a reason. Now I have one.”
“No,” she insisted. “I won’t have you doing that, not for us.”
“It’s a moot point. I’ve still got some cash. If we watch the expenditures, we won’t need more money. The rate on this room isn’t that steep. I can cover the expenses while you recuperate.” He drew to a halt in front of her, his smoky gaze holding hers relentlessly. “After that, we’ll just play it by ear, see what happens.”
Maggie backed away another step and shook her aching head. She had only just escaped the autocratic rule of one man; she had no intention of indenturing herself to another. Rafe had been kindness itself so far, and she was grateful. But she wasn’t dumb enough to believe the situation would remain status quo if she stayed with him. Sooner or later, he’d begin to feel his helping her gave him certain rights, and in all fairness, she couldn’t argue the point. If she accepted what he was offering, she would owe him, and with each passing day, the size of the debt would increase until there would be no way out.
“I can’t.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked, his expression conveying that he found her refusal to accept his of
fer not only irrational but unacceptable. “Is it your sister? I’ll send her the money for a bus ticket right now.” He shrugged his shoulders, which were looking broader with every passing second. “I like kids. I’ve proven that with Jaimie. How old did you say she is?”
“I didn’t.” Shivering with a sudden chill, Maggie realized she felt light-headed and wished for something, anything to lean against.
He studied her for a moment. “Is that your answer? For God’s sake, surely your sister’s age isn’t a state secret. Why is it so imperative that you send for her, anyway? You said your dad’s dead, and you mentioned your mom, so I know the kid has someone to take care of her. Is there a mean stepfather lurking in the background or something?” He narrowed an eye. “Who is Lonnie?”
Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. She stared up at him, wondering how on earth he’d learned her stepfather’s first name.
“You cried out in your sleep. You said the name several times.” He held her gaze, making her feel he was reading answers in her eyes that she didn’t dare reveal. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you? He’s the one who beat you up, the one you’re afraid may come after you.”
That he had so easily guessed the truth made Maggie feel frantic. She no longer thought Rafe might turn her in for a reward. He’d been too kind and caring for her to believe that. But experience had taught her to trust no man completely. Rafe wanted her and Jaimie to stay with him. What if he learned too much and decided to use it as leverage against her? She instantly felt a stab of guilt for entertaining such thoughts about him. He’d been so good to them.
“Honey, please,” he whispered. “Take a chance on me. Trust me. Let me take care of you for a while.”
Oh, how she wished she could. There was nothing she wanted more than to go back to bed, have a sip of coffee, and then sleep. It would be so wonderful to know that Rafe would take care of her and Jaimie for a while, that he would be there if she needed him and would send for Heidi.
Maggie aborted the fantasy. Taking the easy way out wasn’t always best. She’d pay for it, perhaps dearly, and even worse, she’d end up hurting this man in the process. Better to sever the ties right now than to risk breaking his heart. He had suffered enough grief already.
Her dizziness increasing, she groped behind her for the wall. It wasn’t there. The only solid thing within reach was Rafe. She longed to step close and prop herself against his strong body as she had yesterday. The very fact that she wanted that so badly prodded her to move farther away.
“I have to use the bathroom,” she told him.
It wasn’t a lie. As she flipped on the light switch and locked the door, the small enclosure went even darker, casting everything in gray black. Too weird. Even the faint light coming through the tiny window grew dimmer. Maggie blinked and tried to hit the wall switch again, thinking she’d flipped it down instead of up. But her arm suddenly felt as if it weighed a couple hundred pounds, and she couldn’t raise her hand.
She staggered and tried to grab the vanity. The next instant she hit the floor. She lay there, feeling like a tiny, translucent flake in a swirling, gray-black kaleidoscope. From a long way off, she heard Rafe calling her. She couldn’t make out the words. Then more loudly, he said her name. Maggie! Maggie, answer me! She blinked, trying to see through the dizzying rush of shadows.
Then—blackness.
Rafe tried the doorknob, knowing before he touched it that Maggie had turned the lock. The loud thud he’d heard echoed in his mind. Oh, God. She’d fainted. He imagined her lying on the other side of the door with her head split open. If she didn’t answer him in a second, he’d have to kick down the door.
“Maggie? Maggie, answer me, damn it!”
No response.
Rafe saw no way around it. He had to reach her. Not allowing himself to consider the possible consequences, he reared back and planted his boot just below the doorknob. Wood splintered, but the lock didn’t give. Son of a bitch. Grabbing the knob, Rafe put his shoulder into it, hitting the door with all his weight. Once. Twice. The framing broke, and the door crashed open.
Maggie lay on the worn linoleum. In the harsh light, her face was so pale she looked dead. His pulse stuttered as he dropped to one knee beside her.
“Maggie?”
He cupped her face between his hands. The second he touched her, he realized she was burning up with fever. He lightly tapped her cheeks but got no response. He gathered her into his arms. Her slight body was completely limp. Over the crook of his arm, her head lolled like a rag doll’s.
“Maggie, talk to me.” He strode into the other room and laid her gently on the bed. She reacted to his voice by moaning, but that was as close as she came to regaining consciousness. Rafe grabbed her wrist to check her pulse, then swore and dropped her arm. Like he knew what he was doing? Without a watch, he couldn’t even check the beats per minute. Launching himself across her inert form, he grabbed the phone, jabbed out 911, and felt as if he would explode with pent-up fear while he waited for someone to answer.
“I need an ambulance!” he barked when a female dispatcher answered.
“May I have your name, sir?”
His name? “Lady, I’ve got an emergency here. I need an ambulance!”
“I understand that, sir, but you need to remain calm. Can you tell me the nature of the emergency? Has there been an accident?”
Bracing his elbows on the mattress to keep his weight off Maggie, Rafe stared down at her lifeless face. “No, not an accident. I’ve got a very sick young woman here. She just collapsed. High fever. I need an ambulance, damn it!”
“Where are you, sir?”
Rafe couldn’t remember the name of the motel. He vaulted off the bed to peer out the window. Forgetting he held the phone receiver, he jerked the base off the nightstand. The resultant crash and ringing sound were deafening. “The Traveler’s Rest.” The sickening smell of bacon and eggs wafted to his nose from the sacks on the table. “Over by the train tracks. I don’t know the address.”
Seconds of silence ticked by. “May I have your name now, sir?”
Rafe exploded. “Rafe Kendrick’s my name, and you’ll wish you’d never heard it if you don’t get a damned ambulance over here, lady! Stop asking stupid questions and do your job!”
“I just dispatched the ambulance, Mr. Kendrick. It will be en route momentarily. Please, calm down. It’s my job to keep you on the phone and assist you until help arrives.”
Rafe struggled to stifle what could only be an hysterical urge to laugh. All his life, he’d been levelheaded and calm in emergencies. The only other time he’d ever lost his cool like this had been the night his family was killed. “I’m sorry. For yelling, I mean.” He threw a frightened glance at Maggie. “What should I do? I don’t know what to do. She’s unconscious, and she’s burning up with fever. Really sick. She’s really sick.”
“Just stay calm. That’s why I’m here, Mr. Kendrick, to help you and tell you what to do. First of all, is the woman in the motel room?”
“Yes, I laid her on the bed.”
“Can you reach her and still remain on the phone with me?”
“Yes.” He moved back to Maggie. “I’m with her now.”
The dispatcher asked Rafe questions about Maggie’s condition, but he listened with only one ear. With the other he listened for a siren. This was like revisiting a nightmare. Pictures flashed in his head. Susan and his children, the icy hail lashing him as he frantically tried to help them, knowing even as he did that they were beyond help. Oh, please, God, not again.
“The ambulance will be there in just a minute,” the dispatcher promised.
Rafe cocked an ear. “I can hear the sirens now, I think,” he said, thankfulness ringing in his voice. “They’re coming. Damn. What’d they do, give the rig a lube job before they took off?”
She laughed softly. “Trust me, it seems to take a lot longer than it actually does. It’s been only four minutes since you called.”
“It?
??s been the longest four minutes in history.”
“Yes, I know. Is your baby all right, Mr. Kendrick? I can hear it crying.”
Rafe glanced toward the drawer where Jaimie lay snuggly enfolded in receiving blankets. “He’s fine. Just hungry, probably.”
“Good strong lungs. What’s his name?”
Rafe was about to reply when he remembered how secretive Maggie had been. So much for her attempt to stay away from people. This had blown that plan all to hell. “He definitely has a good set of lungs,” he agreed, ignoring the question. The sirens came closer. “I think the ambulance is pulling in here.”
“I’ll stay on the phone. You go flag them down. All right? If they should miss seeing you, simply come back and tell me so I can pinpoint your location for them. Will you do that, please?”
“Of course.”
“And then you’d better take care of your baby. In all the confusion, don’t forget you’ve got him.”
Forget? In the last two days, Rafe had come to feel as if he and Jaimie were connected by an umbilical cord.
The ER waiting room at Squire Community General looked pretty much like every other ER waiting room Rafe had ever seen. Blue vinyl chairs and sofas lined the off-white walls. The beige floor tiles had the usual smatterings of color, variegated swirls of white and pastels. It made Rafe wonder if there was a worldwide order of interior decorators who specialized in medical facilities.
The only notable difference Rafe could see between this waiting room and others was that he was the only person there. Strike that. Jaimie counted as one more head.
Settling back on the sofa next to his coat, he gazed down at the baby’s face resting on the bend of his arm. He’d already removed the snowsuit. Now he peeled away one of the blankets, afraid the child might be too warm. Since racing here in the taxi, they’d been waiting for over an hour, and typical of a hospital, the heat was kept at one temperature—stuffy. But then, maybe it only seemed that way to him because he was so tense.