Baby Love

  Maggie started to sit up, remembered she had no clothes on, and reached over the side of the bed to grab his discarded shirt. She held the blankets to her chest as she straightened and shoved her arms down the sleeves.

  Jostling the fussy baby, Rafe said, “Worried that I’ll see something I’ve seen before?”

  She shrugged and slipped from the bed. “Maybe all of this is old hat to you, but it isn’t to me.”

  “Trust me. Seeing you in that shirt isn’t old hat.” He laid the baby over his shoulder and started to pace as she went to the bathroom. When she returned a few moments later, he followed her to the bed. “Hurry, Mom. He’s working his way up to a full roar. I can feel it coming.”

  Maggie fluffed up a pillow and sat with her back against the headboard. After taking the baby from him, she looked up at him expectantly. He gazed back at her, smiling. Instead of turning away as she hoped, he lowered himself onto the mattress beside her. Jaimie thrashed his legs and let loose with an angry cry.

  “You’d better feed him. He’s getting pissed. The Kendrick temper is getting the best of him.”

  Maggie unbuttoned the shirt, hoping to keep herself covered with the loose front plackets. Only when she tried to get Jaimie to nurse, he turned away, stiffened his body, and started to shriek. Her heart sank. Her son obviously wanted his baby bottle back.

  Watching Maggie’s face, Rafe could see how upset she was getting.

  “He wants his bottle,” she said forlornly, trying once more to interest the furious baby. Jaimie pulled an awful face and just screamed more loudly.

  “He just doesn’t remember, honey.” Rafe cupped his hand over the side of Jaimie’s small head, forcing his face back toward his mother. When the baby tasted the milk, he broke off in mid-cry and latched on, suckling eagerly. Maggie gave a startled jerk. “There, you see?” Rafe said with a laugh. “How’s that for enthusiasm?”

  Maggie smiled and touched the baby’s cheek. When Rafe looped an arm over her shoulders, she settled against him. Gazing down at her and the baby, he felt his chest go tight, for he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Maggie with their child’s dark head at her breast. He feathered his fingertips over the baby’s silken hair, thinking to himself that this was what love was all about—the quiet times, the sharing. He was more grateful than he could say that Maggie had set aside her modesty to let him experience it with her.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She turned her luminous gaze up to him. In the moonlight, she looked like an angel, her sable hair falling in a dark cloud of tousled curls around her shoulders. “For what?”

  He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “For letting me stay.”

  She sighed and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “It seems perfectly right, doesn’t it? The three of us together like this.”

  “That’s because it is perfectly right.”

  When the baby had finished nursing and was sleeping peacefully in his new cradle again, Rafe made love to his wife once more, slowly this time, and with infinite care. It was the perfect ending to a perfect night.

  Bright and early the next morning, Maggie entered the study with Jaimie in her arms to find Rafe on the telephone and pacing the floor. Leaning her hip against the desk, she rocked the baby while listening to her husband’s side of the conversation, which she instantly deduced was about gaining custody of Heidi.

  “If that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes,” Rafe bit out. “I don’t want there to be any chance that Boyle can take her away from us, which might happen if he decides to convince Helen to pursue it.” He pivoted and came to a stop when he saw Maggie. A fleeting smile touched his mouth. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “Half up front?” He laughed humorlessly. “I don’t think so. No more than a fourth of it. Give him too much now, and he’s liable to get slippery. We can’t trust the son of a bitch.”

  Maggie’s heart caught. Rafe was offering Lonnie money again. She’d been nothing but a drain on his bank account since the day he met her.

  “Tell him that’s my offer, a quarter up front, another quarter when he gets her to sign the papers, and the remainder when I’ve got the documents in my hands. Maggie may be her sister and better able to provide a stable environment, but even so, I’m essentially trying to buy a child, you know? It’s not as if I can take him to court if he backs out.” Rafe listened for a moment, then cast his gaze toward the ceiling, the very picture of frustration. “Then we’ll have to cough it up. Yeah, you’re right. I won’t be surprised if that’s how it goes.” He nodded. “I know. But on the other hand, which is more important, the child or having to cough up more money? No contest, Jameson. If that’s his game, I’ll play.”

  Rafe ended the conversation with an apology for telephoning on Thanksgiving, then muttered a curt farewell. He punched the button at the base of the portable and set it on his desk, his gaze shifting back to Maggie. His mouth instantly slanted into a grin. “In the bag,” he told her with a wink. “Jameson spoke with Lonnie last night. For a price, he’ll play ball. Our only hurdle is your mom. He has to get her to sign the papers.”

  “You’re giving Lonnie even more money, this time for custody of Heidi?” she said incredulously. “When did you decide to do that?”

  “I got the ball rolling with Jameson right after we got home yesterday. I called him while you were in the shower.” He winked at her. “I figured I’d tell you after dinner—a special gift of sorts to mark our first Thanksgiving together.”

  “You never mentioned doing this before. What made you suddenly decide—”

  “You,” he said huskily. “Hearing about what he did to you. I used to think the son of a bitch had limits, Maggie. I don’t anymore. I won’t rest until I know he can’t get Heidi away from us.” He shrugged. “The man’s crazy, and in a very sick way.”

  A lump rose in Maggie’s throat. “I just wish we could do it without it costing you even more money.”

  He grinned. “I can afford it.”

  “Thank you so much, Rafe.”

  “Don’t thank me. She’s your sister. And I’ll remind you that in the past two weeks, you’ve saved this ranch thousands of dollars with your accounting skills. By the time Heidi is in college, you’ll have paid for her education twice over.” He smiled. “I think she likes it here. Don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes,” Maggie said tightly. She cuddled Jaimie closer. “Mama may refuse to sign the papers though. She’s slow and easily manipulated, but she truly does love me and Heidi.”

  He stepped close to kiss her cheek. “I know she does, honey. But my money’s on Lonnie. He knows how to work her, and I’m giving him plenty of motivation. He’ll find a way to convince your mother and have her believing she’s doing Heidi a favor in the process.”

  Oh, how Maggie prayed he was right.

  “How much did you offer him?” she asked, almost dreading his answer.

  “Does it matter?” He drew the baby blanket back to kiss his sleeping son. “We can’t put a price on a child’s happiness, possibly even her life. Where do we draw a line? When is the price too high?” He shook his head. “I want her safe from him, and I’ll damned well do it if it takes every dime we’ve got and I’m forced to ask my family to help me.”

  Maggie knew he meant that, and it filled her with quiet joy to know that he loved her that much. Essentially that was what it boiled down to, his love for her. She just thanked God that his financial situation was such that the expenditures probably wouldn’t hurt him too badly.

  “You’ll never know how happy it’s made me to have Heidi here where I can watch after her myself and keep her safe. She’s a very lucky little girl to have you in her life.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” He looped an arm around her shoulders. “In fact, I feel like the luckiest man alive. And before you know it, we’ll have permanent custody of her, guaranteed.”

  “I have every confidence,” she said in all honesty. “Has there ever been anything you decided to do tha
t you failed to accomplish?”

  He cast her a suspicious look. “What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m overbearing?”

  Maggie giggled. “You do tend to take matters in hand—people included. And you’re extremely determined and relentless once you set your mind to something. Not that I’m complaining.”

  A mischievous twinkle crept into his eyes. “It’s a damned good thing. Now that I’ve got you in hand, I’m not about to turn you loose. You’re mine, sugar. Every sweet inch of you.” He glanced at the sleeping baby, then fixed his gaze on Maggie again. “Let’s have breakfast in bed this morning.”

  “What?” she said with a laugh. “We’re already up and dressed.”

  “So? What goes on can come off.”

  “I’ve already eaten my breakfast.”

  “I haven’t, and Becca’s scrambled eggs aren’t what I’m craving. Think of it as a special Thanksgiving Day gift to me.”

  He leaned down and whispered suggestively in Maggie’s ear, describing what he wanted in such vivid detail that her face went bright red.

  “Oh, I couldn’t. People don’t really—that’s indecent!”

  “Glorious,” he countered.

  “Scandalous, more like!”

  “Incredible,” he insisted. “You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Her knees went a little watery. “We made love three times last night.”

  “So?”

  “Will you draw the drapes?”

  He paused in nibbling on her ear, his voice a grumble. “No way.”

  “Please?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes!”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Maggie Kendrick, but I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  Loving Rafe. Being loved by him. She felt as if her life had been touched with magic, just as he’d promised, and if there were times when she felt a sense of impending doom, fearful that their happiness might go up in a puff of smoke, she kept her thoughts to herself. As long as Lonnie Boyle drew breath, he would always pose a possible threat, but did that mean she had to let thoughts of him ruin her happiness?

  No, absolutely not. Determined not to let him taint her new life, Maggie thrust him firmly from her mind and concentrated on being a good wife. Over the next few days, she settled in at the ranch and truly began to feel it was her home. It wasn’t only Rafe who filled her with a sense of belonging, but his family as well. Within a day of meeting his parents, Maggie received orders from Keefe that she was to call him Dad, and whenever she forgot, he corrected her. If the edict had come from anyone else, Maggie might have balked, but Keefe Kendrick was as impossible to resist as his elder son. When he entered the house, Maggie often felt as if her home had been invaded by a big, lovable grizzly bear, and she invariably found herself captured in his brawny arms for a gentle hug.

  “How’s my girl this morning?” he would ask. Maggie soon learned that a standard response of “Fine” wasn’t what Keefe wanted to hear. How was Jaimie doing? Was that boy of his treating her good? What were her plans for the day? Had she gotten a good rest last night? Any word yet about when they might get custody of Heidi? He pelted her with questions, to which he demanded lengthy answers, and to Maggie’s amazement, he listened with undivided attention, making her feel like one of the most important people in his world.

  Though less overwhelming, Ann Kendrick was no less loving. She took to Jaimie as if the baby were truly her grandchild, swooping him from his cradle the instant she entered the house, cooing and kissing him as she headed for the rocker before the hearth. To Maggie’s delight, Ann also took an active interest in decorating the nursery, spending hours leafing through the decorating catalogs and offering her opinion.

  One morning, she glanced up from an earmarked page and said, “Why don’t you run in to town and get the wallpaper and paint? I’ll watch Jaimie. When you get back, we’ll get started on the room.”

  “I think Rafe plans to hire it done.”

  Ann frowned. “What fun will that be?”

  Maggie secretly agreed, but every time she approached Rafe about painting the room and hanging the wallpaper herself, he vetoed the idea, saying he could well afford the cost of hiring professionals. “Rafe doesn’t want me to do it,” Maggie tried to explain. “And I don’t suppose I can blame him. I’ve painted, but I’ve never hung wallpaper. I’d probably make a mess of it.”

  “Oh, piddle.” Seated in the rocker with Jaimie cuddled close, Ann smiled and tossed her head. “I’m an expert at painting and hanging wallpaper. Grab Rafe’s checkbook and run get the stuff we need. I’ll watch Jaimie while you’re gone.”

  Maggie went and got the checkbook. Imbued with courage after listening to Ann, she filled out a check and took it to the stable to ask that Rafe sign it. When she finally found him and his father in the tack room, however, her bravado had already begun to wane. “Um, Rafe?”

  Seated on a hay bale across from his dad, he glanced up from a stirrup he was mending. “Hi, sweetheart.” His gaze fell to the check in her hands. “What’s that?”

  “One of your checks. I, um, wrote it to cash for five hundred dollars. Would you sign it for me and lend me the car keys?”

  He set aside the stirrup and pushed to his feet. “What do you need five hundred dollars for?”

  “Paint and wallpaper for the nursery.”

  He winced. “I’m sorry, honey. It slipped my mind. I’ll call this afternoon and hire a crew to get that done, I promise.”

  Maggie imagined the look she’d get from Ann if she failed to stand her ground. “Actually, Rafe, I want to do it myself. Your mom says she’ll help me.”

  “Oh, shit,” Keefe muttered under his breath.

  “Mom? She can’t paint. She gets it on her butt and in her hair and all over everything around her. Trust me, you don’t want to turn her loose in the nursery with a paint roller.”

  Maggie’s heart squeezed. Her instinct was to nod and give in rather than quarrel with him. But Ann was waiting. “She says she’s an expert painter and paper hanger.”

  “Oh, hell,” Keefe said.

  Rafe scratched beside his nose and nudged his Stetson back to regard her with a scowl. “Can’t you wait a couple of days? I’ll get a crew in there, I promise, and it’ll be done before you can blink.”

  “I want to do it myself.”

  “I’m busy, Maggie. I really don’t have time right now to help you.”

  “I don’t expect you to help.”

  “Oh, boy,” Keefe grumped.

  Rafe sighed, plucked a pen from his shirt pocket, and took the check. Smoothing the draft against a bare wall stud, he quickly scratched out his signature. “I need to get your name on the account. This is a pain in the ass, and I really don’t like the idea of you carrying a bunch of cash around. It isn’t safe.” He handed back the check. “Is Mom going to town with you?”

  “Um, no. She’s going to baby-sit.”

  “So who’s taking you?”

  “I’m just going to drive myself.”

  “Say what?”

  Maggie gulped. “I do have my driver’s license.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t know the area. Crystal’s a big town.”

  “I’ve been there a few times. I think I can find my way around.” Maggie held out her hand for the keys. “I’ll be fine.”

  Rafe glanced at his dad. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, Dad.”

  “No!” she blurted.

  He swung back to stare at her in surprise. “It’s no big deal, Maggie. I’ll just drive you in.”

  Maggie straightened her shoulders. “It is a big deal. You’re treating me like a child, and a not-very-bright child, at that.”

  “It isn’t like that at all,” he argued. “It’s just that you’ve never driven all the way to town by yourself. You could get lost.”

  “I’ll call you on the cell phone if I do, but I honestly don’t think I will.”

  “I need to get things straightened
out at the bank, anyway, so you can write checks.”

  “You can do that another time. Today I want to go by myself. I have to do it sooner or later, right? Why not now?”

  He fished in his jeans pocket for the keys and reluctantly handed them over. Then he trailed behind her to the Ford like a well-trained hound. “How much gas is there?”

  Maggie turned the key in the ignition. “Three-quarters of a tank.”

  He leaned in to check the computerized dash readouts. “You know how to use the phone?”

  Maggie picked it up and studied the buttons. “It looks simple enough.”

  “You ever used a cell phone?”

  “You figured it out the first time you used it, didn’t you?”

  He huffed and scraped the sole of his boot over the snowy gravel. “You’re being just slightly irritating. It’s no crime for me to worry about you.”

  “No, it’s actually very sweet. But I am twenty-four years old. Remember?”

  “And you grew up in a town I can spit across.”

  “Prior’s not that small.”

  “Close.”

  He was still standing in the drive, gazing after the Expedition, when Maggie executed the first curve and drove out of sight.

  Shortly after Maggie and Ann opened the first paint can later that afternoon, Rafe and Keefe magically appeared in the nursery. Rafe leaned down to peer at the paint. “That the color you like?”

  Ann smiled and put her hands on her hips. “It’s perfect,” she said, eyeing the chiffon yellow.

  “You have them shake it?” Rafe asked Maggie as he tossed aside his hat and began rolling up his sleeves.

  Shoving his own shirtsleeves up, Keefe said, “Better stir it, to be safe.”

  The next thing Maggie knew, the two men were painting the nursery. Ann strolled in from the kitchen a few minutes after they began, still tidily dressed and coifed, with a mug of fresh, steaming coffee cupped between her slender hands. After watching the men work for a moment, she smiled at Maggie.

  “See? I told you I was an expert and could get a room painted in nothing flat.”