Desperado Dad. Linda Conrad
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made the words take charge, dynamo, and daring seem inadequate. Did his honey-brown eyes really absorb her every thought, word and deed, especially when she hadn’t said or done anything at all? Did he really manage to discover her wishes and desires without a word? Even his body appeared to vibrate with static energy as he stood perfectly still.
No, Manny Sanchez was nothing like any of the men she’d ever known. Randi had read about such heroes in novels, had seen a couple in movies when she was a girl. She’d even dreamed about them from time to time, but the idea of really meeting one this dynamic had never crossed her mind. And now she’d taken him into her house.
A shiver rippled along her spine as she crept down the stairs. If it hadn’t been an emergency situation, and if it hadn’t been for the baby…
The thought of Ricky made Randi hasten her steps. Precariously balanced, with a basket of clothes in one hand and a candle in the other, she worried about the child. That little one didn’t seem well to her, his eyes were glazed and his cry weak. She fervently hoped that with some warmth and dry clothes he might be okay.
When she crept into her front room, she found a massive hulk huddled by the fire. Manny must have found another blanket. This one totally covered him like a tent as he kept his back to her and faced the warmth of the hearth.
Randi accidentally stepped on a creaky floor board and jumped nearly a foot at the noise.
“Did you get a shower before the power went out?” Manny asked. Wincing at the pain from his tender shoulder, he shifted the baby against his chest before turning. He’d known by her light footsteps that he’d be facing the young woman who’d given them shelter.
She’d changed into well-worn jeans and a frayed, navy sweatshirt with a Texas Aggie logo. The sweatshirt was thin with age, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her nipples beaded against it in the cold.
With her wet hair tied up in a towel, she looked so fragile his first impulse was to gather her up in his arms and set her on a shelf somewhere. In his current state of undress that would be more than stupid on his part, even if she would allow it.
Randi set down the basket she’d been carrying by the hearth. “No, no time for a shower. But I’m fairly dry and the fire will warm me up fast enough.” She pulled a kerosene lamp from the mantel and lit it before blowing out her candle. “Did you find everything you needed?”
He suppressed a chuckle. “I didn’t even bother looking. I did find the clothesline in the mud room and hung our soggy stuff over it, but Ricky needs a few things you probably don’t have.”
She dug into the basket and pulled out a square white cloth. “Like this, you mean?”
At his raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Diapers. My mom kept an entire trunk full of my baby things for…later.” She blushed and laughed again. “Mother was an eternal optimist.”
Randi held out her arms, waiting for him to transfer the baby. It was a delicate maneuver, considering the precarious state of the towel he’d wrapped around his own waist and the blanket that kept slipping down his shoulders.
She laid the baby down on the rug in front of the fire and unwrapped the clumsily tied towel he’d used as a diaper. “Well, you didn’t do so badly. With nothing else handy, the towel was actually a good idea.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” he murmured, chagrined at his own cliché but too beat to be clever.
Quickly and expertly Randi diapered Ricky and pulled a fuzzy yellow jumpsuit with a hood over his arms and legs. The kid would’ve looked like the Easter Bunny if he’d had floppy ears.
“His skin seems warm enough, but he’s too quiet to suit me,” she said.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t think he’s in shock, his skin isn’t clammy at all. But I’m concerned that he’s dehydrated…or maybe even in the first stages of starvation. His belly looks distended to me.”
She jerked around to face him and arched her brows in disbelief. “You think your own son might be starving?”
“He’s not mine, Randi.” It never occurred to him she might think Ricky was his child. After he’d blurted out the truth, he wondered if maybe he should have lied and spared himself a lot of trouble and explanations later.
“If he’s not yours, what were you doing driving him around the countryside in the middle of a storm, and where’s his mother?”
Yep. Good questions. Ones he wasn’t positive he wanted to answer.
“Can we talk about that later? I’m a lawman, Randi, just trying to do a job. I promise, you’re safe and I’ll tell you everything eventually. But right now we need to find a way to get some liquids into the baby.”
He had to hand it to her—Randi hesitated only a fraction of a second before she dug back into the basket. If he’d been in her shoes, he wasn’t sure he’d have let the subject drop so fast. That fact alone made him wary, putting his instincts on alert.
She held up a glass baby bottle. “I found a few of these, but only one nipple that seems to be usable.” Getting to her feet she said, “I have some distilled drinking water stashed away for emergencies. I suspect Ricky is well over six months and we can get by just washing the bottles instead of sterilizing them. It’ll save a lot of time.”
She handed him the baby and headed for the kitchen, turning back at the doorway for one last word. “But if you think we’re done with the questions about this baby, better think again. I want answers.”
In a few minutes she was back. Gently taking Ricky in her arms, she cradled him to her breast. It took a bit of coaxing to get him to take the bottle of water into his mouth, but soon the baby’s instincts kicked in and he sucked mightily.
Manny breathed a sigh of relief at the tranquil sucking sounds. He’d made a promise to the baby to keep him safe and healthy, and by heaven, he intended to do everything in his power to see it through.
The sight of Randi holding the baby stirred something deep inside him that he had no business feeling. Long ago he’d buried his most basic needs—the need for the softness of a woman—the need for family. It had been several years since he’d contacted his own family, and he suddenly missed them more than he thought possible. He was sure that since he’d last seen them, his nieces and nephews would be nearly all grown up.
Manny positively refused to contemplate how long it had been since he’d felt the comfort of female companionship. But the sight of Randi and the baby seemed overwhelmingly erotic somehow. Man, when this mission was over, he’d better find himself some sweet little senorita. How long had it been, anyway?
“I’ve set a pan of water to boil on the stove,” Randi whispered, trying not to disturb Ricky. “I think I’ve got a box of powdered milk on a shelf somewhere, too. If he can get this down, we can try a little milk.”
Manny’s gut wrenched as Randi concentrated on Ricky. There was an innocence about her that tugged at his conscience. Taking a breath, he systematically closed and locked off the physical and emotional needs that had been assaulting him. He needed to be strong and tough till he discovered her exact involvement in the baby-smuggling ring.
It didn’t add up that she would be living alone. Someone that fragile-looking couldn’t operate a working ranch by herself. So where was everybody?
He had no desire to hurt this ethereal young thing, but he had to do whatever necessary to find out if she was a suspect. It was part of the job.
Randi looked down at Ricky sleeping and felt a twinge of sadness in her heart. She was around children all the time at her nursery school job. Yet having a baby here, sleeping on her hearth and totally dependent on her for his well-being, seemed different. It reminded her too much of things she couldn’t have—of things she’d probably have to bury forever.
Ricky took half the bottle of water and a full ounce of