Maverick Christmas Surprise. Brenda Harlen
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tiny.” His whispered remark was filled with awe and wonder—and just a hint of the nerves that were tangled up inside him. “So fragile.”
“It’s normal to be scared. I was terrified the first time I held Wren in my arms,” his brother confided. “And she was a lot smaller than Cody is.”
“But you had nine months to prepare yourself for her arrival,” Wilder pointed out, though he wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for this moment.
Hunter nodded. “True.”
Wilder patted the baby’s back gently, as he’d watched Sarah do, and was rewarded with a shockingly loud belch.
“Gas might have been another cause of his distress,” Hunter noted then.
“You think?” Wilder asked dryly.
“And now that it’s out of his system, you can try the cradle hold,” he said, and talked him through shifting the baby’s position so that he was tucked in the crook of Wilder’s arm. “Now sit down and relax.”
Relax? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to relax so long as there was a baby under his roof.
And though Leighton’s note had given no indication that she was planning to come back for the little guy, he had to believe that she would. After all, what kind of mom just left her kid?
Mine, he thought, then shoved the unpleasant twinge from his mind.
Hunter took another seat at the table, leaning back in the chair and stretching his legs out in front.
Obviously relaxing wasn’t a problem for him.
“Where’d Dad go?” he asked.
“To pick up a crib,” Wilder told him.
“Ah, right. He said he was going to try to rustle up some of the stuff you’d need from local relatives,” his brother recalled.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think one of those things is a nanny.”
Hunter chuckled. “No, he’s been pretty clear that your baby is your responsibility.”
“But we don’t even know for sure that he is my baby,” Wilder felt compelled to point out again.
“Obviously his mom is sure. Though I have to wonder, if you haven’t kept in touch with her, how did she know where to find you?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. My best guess is Malcolm,” Wilder said, naming a close buddy from Dallas. “When I talked to him a few weeks back, he’d mentioned that one of the girls we’d met at the holiday party before Christmas last year had shown up at his office to ask about me. But he told me that before Thanksgiving, and since nothing came of it...”
“Until now,” Hunter remarked.
“Until now,” he agreed.
“So the who and the how have been answered,” his brother noted. “But we still don’t know the why—beyond the obvious, of course.”
“What’s the obvious?” Wilder wondered.
“What ‘L’ wrote in her note—a boy needs a dad.”
“Which proves she doesn’t know me at all, or she’d know I’m not dad material.”
“Or maybe she knows you better than you know yourself,” Hunter suggested. “But since I’m not completely without sympathy, I’ll give you a crash course in diapering and feeding.”
“I can hardly wait,” he said dryly.
“Or I can let you figure it out on your own,” his brother suggested as an alternative.
“Please don’t,” he said, immediately remorseful. “I need all the help I can get.”
“You’re doing okay so far,” Hunter assured him.
“Because I’m not doing anything.”
“You’ve managed to relax,” his brother pointed out. “And that’s allowed Cody to relax, too.”
Wilder looked down at the little guy tucked in the crook of his arm, close to his body.
He did look relaxed. Content even, his eyelids heavy, as if he might—fingers crossed—drift off to sleep again. And Wilder felt a small measure of satisfaction that he’d been the one to put that look on his face, though the satisfaction wasn’t nearly strong enough to quell the rising tide of panic within him.
“I’m not ready for this,” he confided. “I figured I had another ten years of footloose and fancy-free living before I even thought about getting serious with a woman—and then a few more after that before I had to worry about becoming a dad.”
“There’s nothing more serious than parenthood, or more amazing and awe-inspiring,” Hunter told him.
The baby turned his head then, rubbing his cheek against the soft plaid of Wilder’s shirt, just about where he felt his heart swell inside his chest.
And Wilder knew that whatever happened next, he and the kid were in this together.
Beth turned up the radio and lowered the window a couple of inches, just far enough to allow the icy December air to sweep through the interior of her car and jolt her weary brain and sleepy body awake. Eager to get to Rust Creek Falls, she’d left Dallas almost immediately after ending her telephone conversation with Wilder Crawford, making only brief stops to fill her gas tank and use the bathroom. Now, after almost twenty-eight hours on the road, she was tired and hungry but refused to give in to either before she reached her final destination—and Cody.
She’d looked into flights to Montana, but the last-minute airfares and required connections made it more logical to drive. And now her journey was finally nearing its end.
She couldn’t wait to see Cody again, to hold his chubby little body in her arms and breathe in his sweet baby powder scent. She’d been so worried when she found Leighton’s note, but after talking to Wilder Crawford, she had reason to believe the baby was okay. She had no clue about her sister. Though Leighton had always been adept at taking care of herself, she hadn’t quite been herself since the baby was born. Maybe it wasn’t Beth’s place to worry about her sister, but of course she was worried. And she was concerned that her sweet and innocent nephew was being used as a pawn in whatever game his mother was playing.
When Beth realized her sister was gone—likely headed to Montana, where one of the previously unidentified potential fathers of her baby apparently now resided—she’d considered that Leighton might want to reconcile with her ex. And she’d hoped, for Cody’s sake, that was her sister’s plan.
But if what Wilder Crawford had told her was true, Leighton hadn’t even spoken to the man in almost a year. So why would her sister travel all this way and then not see him? And why would she abandon her baby on his doorstep without any warning?
Maybe Leighton had decided that she needed a break from the day-to-day responsibilities of caring for Cody. But why not leave him in Dallas with his aunt? Why drive all the way to Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana—in the middle of winter, no less—and leave him with a stranger?
Even more than those questions baffled Beth’s brain, the insult wounded her heart. She’d made every effort to be there for Leighton since she’d learned of her sister’s pregnancy. She’d tried to offer support without judgment, help without expectation. And she’d cried tears of joy along with her sister when Cody drew his first breath—and let it out again as an indignant wail.
Beth would do anything for her nephew—including driving through the night and all the next day to get to him. Unfortunately she hadn’t considered the changes in weather that she would encounter en route, and the tires on her fuel-efficient