Baby Love
His gaze flicked to the drawer on the floor. He froze and stared at the sleeping infant. When he looked at Rafe again, his mouth hardened. “Where’s the broad? Still in the hospital?”
Hearing his brother call Maggie a “broad” sent Rafe’s temper rising. He tamped it down. Ryan hadn’t seen Maggie for himself. Once he did, Rafe believed his brother’s attitude toward her would undergo a fast change. He hoped so, anyway. If not, there would be some rough road to grade when Ryan found out Rafe planned to marry her. “Yeah, she’s a pretty sick girl right now. A nasty kidney infection that went septic.”
Ryan rubbed the corner of his eye. Then he sniffed and stepped soundlessly over to gaze at the baby. “You’re right. He’s a cute little fellow.” He angled Rafe a look. “Is it the woman you’re crazy about, or her kid?”
Rafe chuckled and pushed a hand through his hair. “I reckon I’d have to say it’s a toss-up.” He gestured at the bed. “Take a load off.”
Ryan hadn’t completed his snooping tour. After peeking in the empty closet, he said, “You weren’t kidding about bumming the rails. No luggage.”
“My Gucci was stolen.”
“Who’s the smart-ass?”
Rafe folded his length onto the broken-down cushion of the chair, propping his arms on his bent knees, his hands dangling. He watched as Ryan sat on the bed, assuming much the same posture. Until now, he’d never realized how very alike he and his brother were. “How’d you find me, anyway?”
“I sweet-talked a little gal at the hospital.”
“I didn’t expect you until morning.”
“I got the Cessna ready faster than I hoped.” He shrugged and rubbed his palms together. “Figured I might as well come, keep you out of trouble.”
Rafe grinned. “If you’re hoping to protect me from a conniving woman, you’ll laugh at yourself when you meet Maggie.”
Ryan frowned. “I just don’t want you making any stupid mistakes, that’s all. You’ve been through a bad time, Rafe. The folks and I are worried some little tramp’s gotten her hooks into you.”
“Maggie isn’t a tramp.”
“It’s not like you to tie up with some gal you hardly know, especially not the kind you’d meet on a boxcar. What type of people bum the rails?”
“You’re looking at one.”
Ryan’s mouth tightened. “Not every bum has a reason like you did.”
“You’re an expert?” Rafe settled his gaze on Jaimie. “Don’t be so quick to judge people, Ryan. I could still be out there, you know. And if not for bumping into Maggie, I might never have sobered up enough to care.”
Ryan sighed. “You should have called home. I would have come.”
“You were part of the memories. Can you understand that?”
“I’m trying.”
Rafe bent his head again. “Yeah, well, that’s all I can ask, I guess. I know you love me. But love isn’t always enough. You’ve never lost anyone except our grandparents. I know you tried to understand how I felt, that you wanted to help me. But I had lost my whole life, my reason for breathing. There was nothing left in me. Nothing. That was impossible for you to relate to. It still is.”
“And this Maggie person can?” He threw up his hands. “Right.”
Rafe pushed to his feet and took a slow turn at the foot of the bed. “It wasn’t that Maggie talked sense into me. She was just—there, a battered young woman, down on her luck. I was passed out when she got on the boxcar. When I came around, there she was.” He shrugged, the words to explain eluding him. “She needed me, not the other way around. Do you understand what I’m saying? She needed me.”
Ryan propped his elbow on his knee and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Watching him, Rafe felt an ache of tension in the nape of his neck. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ryan, or Mom and Dad, either. I can see that I have.”
“You’ll never know.”
“I was so wrapped up in my own pain, I couldn’t see beyond it. That was selfish and inexcusable. And I’m very sorry. I had only one feeling left, pain. For a while, I was hurting too much to love any of you back. I know that sounds bad, but it’s the truth. My feelings for you were there in me somewhere, but I couldn’t tap into them or care about anything, and I just had to get out.”
Ryan pushed to his feet. For an instant, they stared at each other. Then Ryan grabbed him in another bear hug. They held each other like that, their bodies tensed and quivering, emotions neither of them could express churning inside of them.
When they finally drew apart, Rafe knew everything would be all right.
The following morning, Maggie had just filled her mouth with oatmeal when Rafe Kendrick appeared in her hospital room—in duplicate. For an awful moment, she thought perhaps the nurse had misread the thermometer and she still had a high fever. Two tall cowboys in blue chambray shirts and jeans, with black Stetsons cocked at a jaunty angle on their heads?
But then she noticed that only one cowboy was carrying her baby, a half-filled bottle clutched in his hand. The other man looked slightly younger and less worn, his Stetson newer, his Western riding boots not as rundown.
“Maggie, honey, this is my brother, Ryan,” the slightly older version said.
The younger man with the empty arms swept off his hat to reveal jet-black, slightly wavy hair exactly like Rafe’s. Tall with a long-legged, well-muscled build, he stood with one lean hip cocked, his right leg slightly bent. The strong features of his face were sharpened by his stony expression, his gray-blue eyes intense and almost startling in contrast to his sun-bronzed skin.
“Ma’am,” he said coolly, inclining his head. “Good to meet you.”
“Mmmm,” was the only response Maggie could utter.
She struggled to swallow and pushed at her hair, feeling horribly self-conscious. Though nearly a dead ringer for Rafe, Ryan Kendrick could have stepped straight off the set of the television series Dallas, one of her mom’s favorite reruns. Despite the faded cowboy garb, he carried himself with the self-assurance of a wealthy rancher accustomed to barking orders. The gold watch on his wrist screamed, Money. Maggie doubted he was used to seeing women in hospital gowns, with no makeup and matted, tangled hair.
“I’m pleased to meet you as well,” she finally managed to say around the stubborn bits of mush that felt glued to the walls of her throat.
Trying to gather her composure, Maggie glanced at Rafe. He had a predatory look that his brother lacked, as if suffering and deprivation had trimmed away all the excess, leaving only a core of hard-edged masculinity. Ryan Kendrick was bulkier, but Rafe was slightly taller and had the more dangerous air. His steely gaze was blade-sharp, the bunched tendons along his lean jaw more defined. There was also an alertness and tension radiating from him, as if he’d grown used to watching his back and fighting to survive.
Maggie’s spoon rattled as it slipped into the bowl. She could feel Ryan’s gaze taking measure of her. He was prepared to dislike everything he saw.
Rafe stepped around to the far side of her bed and held Jaimie up in the bend of his arm so she might admire the new snowsuit, a bit of blue pile lined with white. Despite her nervousness, she laughed.
Rafe drew the baby beyond her reach. “Breakfast first. You’re thin as a fence rail.”
Her oatmeal had lost appeal. “Please? Let me hold him for a minute.”
Rafe narrowed an eye at her but relented, pushing the caster table aside to place the infant in her arms. Maggie immediately unzipped the snowsuit, anxious to feel her baby’s sweet little body. This morning he felt delightfully warm when she curled her hands over him, a sign her temperature had dropped.
Dressed in another new sleeper, this one white with blue trim, Jaimie blinked and churned his feet, clearly not pleased to be disturbed from his nap. Then, feeling the softness of his mother’s breast, he turned and nuzzled the front of her gown. Maggie gave a startled jerk when the baby found his mark.
Her cheeks went fiery hot. Even through the wash-worn hospital lin
en, Jaimie latched onto her like a little leech and sucked air when she broke the contact. Angry at having his attempt to breakfast interrupted, her son went crimson and screwed up his small face to scream. Rafe leaned over and plugged the infant’s mouth with the nipple of the half-full baby bottle. He let loose with a deep, rumbling laugh at the way Jaimie’s expression instantly changed from hungry outrage to complacent satisfaction.
“I think he’s ready for brunch.”
Maggie couldn’t bring herself to look up. It was embarrassing to have two men watching while her baby went after her like that.
Seeing the crimson that flagged Maggie’s cheeks, Rafe glanced over to gauge Ryan’s reaction. Just as Rafe had predicted, his brother was staring down at her with a bemused expression, the stern set of his jaw and mouth softening. He glanced up and caught Rafe studying him. A hint of a grin tugged at his mouth, and Rafe knew Maggie had made another conquest. She radiated such sweetness, only a blind man could fail to see that it was genuine.
“He sure is a fine-looking boy,” Ryan said smoothly, for all the world as if he hadn’t entered the room loaded for bear. “I’ll bet you’re so proud of that baby you’re about to bust.”
Rafe suppressed a chuckle. Maggie’s inherent wariness of men had made her one of the most difficult individuals to befriend that he had ever met, but when it came to Jaimie, the stiffness always went out of her. She cast his brother a shy smile, clearly disarmed. Damn Ryan’s hide. He always had been slick with the ladies, and he hadn’t lost the knack.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I am proud of him. He’s going to be handsome. I’m thankful he takes after my father and won’t look like me. Perish the thought.”
Ryan’s forehead pleated in a frown, his raven-black brows drawing together over twinkling eyes that were focused with blatant male appreciation on Maggie’s delicately sculpted features. Rafe knew exactly what his brother was thinking—that a cameo could be no more perfect. Maggie’s cloud of tousled sable curls set off an ivory complexion touched with a strawberry-and-cream blush at the cheeks. And those huge, incredibly liquid brown eyes were the kind a man could drown in, their size accentuated by a dusky sweep of long, abundant lashes that clustered into silky spikes.
“Well, now, I don’t know about that,” Ryan replied. “Of course, if he looks too much like you when he matures out, he may be too pretty for a boy.”
Maggie’s cheeks bloomed again, and she glanced toward the ceiling, wrinkling her small nose to convey she’d never heard such blarney. Rafe and Ryan exchanged a long look, both of them grinning.
Ryan folded his considerable length to sit down on the visitor’s chair by the bed. Propping one boot on his denim-clad thigh, he hooked his Stetson on his bent knee. A wave of homesickness washed over Rafe, for he could recall seeing his brother strike just that pose at least a thousand times in the kitchen of the main ranch house at home. Rafe could almost smell the coffee brewing.
He sniffed, and his gaze came to rest on the caster table angled across Maggie’s bed. A cup of hot coffee sat on her pink plastic breakfast tray.
“So are you anxious to see the ranch, Maggie?” Ryan asked, all hint of animosity gone from his voice.
“I haven’t told her much about the ranch yet,” Rafe interjected.
Ryan tapped the toe of his boot on the tile. “You haven’t?” He grinned at Maggie. “You’re going to love it. Forty thousand acres of ranch and timberland that backs up to thousands more of BLM lease land. Pristine mountain wilderness. It’s the perfect place for a boy. Rafe and I grew up there and never had a dull moment. In spring and summer, you can take off on horseback for days. Camp and fish at the mountain lakes. Hike until you drop. Winter sports are limitless. Do you enjoy downhill or cross-country skiing?”
“Horseback?” Maggie echoed, evidently hearing little else of what Ryan had said. “Oh, I don’t think I want Jaimie around horses. He might get hurt.”
Ryan’s gaze sharpened. “Well, of course he’ll be around horses.” He glanced at Rafe. “We’ll have him riding like a pro by the time he turns three.”
Maggie cuddled her baby closer to her breast, looking dismayed.
Ryan quickly backtracked. “Only with your permission, of course. Once you’re there and meet the horses, you’ll relax about it. We’ve got some mares and geldings so gentle you can lay a baby at their feet. Right, Rafe?”
Maggie’s face blanched.
“Of course, we wouldn’t actually lay a baby—” Ryan broke off and threw Rafe a look that said, Help me out here, brother.
Forgetting her bruises, Rafe settled a comforting hand on Maggie’s shoulder. He was about to assure her that she would always have the final word regarding her baby, but she winced under the light pressure of his grip, and he forgot what he meant to say. Jerking his hand away, he said, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Is something wrong with her shoulder?” Ryan asked.
“She’s pretty bruised up.”
“From what?” As he posed the question, Ryan focused a sharp gaze on Maggie, obviously looking her over closely from the neck down for the first time. She self-consciously tugged at the rounded neckline of the overlarge hospital gown, but not in time to keep Ryan from spotting the discolored skin. “Jesus. What happened?” His gaze darted to her exposed arms, which still sported the unmistakable marks of a man’s brutal grip. A muscle along Ryan’s jaw bunched, and his eyes took on a dangerous glint. He shot Rafe a querying glance.
“It’s nothing,” Maggie said faintly.
Ryan’s neck turned a ruddy red, and the tattoo of his boot on the floor picked up speed. Rafe decided it was time to get Ryan out of there before he began riddling Maggie with questions he had no right to ask.
Checking the wall clock, he said, “I’ve got some business to take care of in town. While you’re finishing breakfast, I’ll go do that. Then we’ll come back.”
Maggie cuddled the baby closer. “Could I keep Jaimie with me?”
“It’s probably not a good idea. You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’m rested.”
Rafe was beginning to realize he had the spine of a jellyfish where she was concerned. Maybe that was just as well. He had a feeling Maggie had heard the word “no” far too often. On this issue, though, he had to stand firm. According to Dr. Hammish, she was making great headway against the infection that still coursed through her, but she was a long way from well. As dearly as she loved that baby, keeping him in the room would tire her.
“I don’t think so, honey.” Taking the coward’s way out, Rafe quickly added, “The nurses have been really good about ignoring him. But if we take too much advantage, they may start enforcing the rules. Then I couldn’t bring Jaimie to see you at all.”
Her face fell, but even as her lips drew into a pout that made him yearn to kiss that sweet, vulnerable mouth, she set the bottle on the table, burped Jaimie, and then began putting the snowsuit back on him. “You’re right, of course. I forgot about that. Rules are rules.”
Rules. They were something she understood all too well, evidently. Rafe’s throat tightened as he watched her dress the baby. He wished with all his heart that he could snatch her up from that bed and take her to the ranch where the only rules in force were ones that had been made to be broken. God, how he wanted to see her smile and make her eyes shine with happiness. He could blow every penny he had on her and never regret the loss.
As Rafe took the baby, Ryan pushed to his feet and settled his Stetson on his dark head. “It’s been great meeting you, Maggie. Now I know why Rafe’s so crazy about you.”
Another painful blush flagged her cheeks. She started to extend her hand to Ryan, but the IV hampered her. He quickly leaned forward to lessen the distance and enfolded her slender fingers in a hard palm.
“I know you mentioned last night that she’d been battered. But I thought it was a figure of speech! Who the hell did that to her?”
/> Ryan’s voice fairly vibrated with rage as he and Rafe walked along the east-wing hallway toward the hospital lobby.
“Her stepfather, Lonnie Boyle, a slimy little creep. I met him yesterday.”
“Did you stomp the holy hell out of him?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
Rafe started to reply but bit back the answer. “Why?”
Ryan shot him a disgusted look. “He needs his ass kicked, that’s why.”
“And you’ve elected yourself to do the honors? Forget it. There’s more to the situation than you understand.”
“Like what?”
Rafe kept the query on hold as they crossed the crowded lobby. When they gained the front exit and stepped out the automatic doors into the freezing morning air, he tucked the blanket over Jaimie’s face. “It’s a long story, Rye.”
“I’ve got nothing better to do than listen.”
“I won’t have you going off half-cocked. Maggie’s my problem. Understand? In case that isn’t clear enough for you, that translates into ‘Butt out.’ Don’t embarrass her by asking a bunch of questions, and don’t get it into your head that she needs you to be her champion. She’s already got one.”
“You? The brother I knew would have beaten a man to within an inch of his life for doing that to a woman. You’ve either lost your guts, Rafe, or you’ve pickled your brains with so much booze that your sense of justice went down the john. Where I come from, no man gets away with shit like that.”
Rafe sighed. “We come from the same place. Remember? And how dare you judge me without knowing all the facts? An hour ago, you wanted me to dump Jaimie on the hospital steps and go home, leaving Maggie to fend for herself. Now you’re all hot to go pick a fight on her behalf?”
“So? I changed my mind.”
As they wove their way through the cars in the parking lot, Rafe began filling Ryan in on Maggie’s past. When they reached the rented Toyota, Ryan rested his folded arms on the roof to gaze across the expanse of shiny red paint. “He arranged to adopt out her kid behind her back?”