Maverick Christmas Surprise. Brenda Harlen
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said. “I’m his aunt. He belongs with me.”
“If his mother believed that, why’d she drive halfway across the country to bring him to me?” he challenged.
Beth faltered. “I don’t know. But my sister’s done a lot of things in her life that I can’t begin to fathom.”
“Well, it seems obvious to me that there must be a reason Leighton didn’t want you caring for her baby.”
“Her baby?” she echoed. “You don’t think he’s your baby, too?”
“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted. “But I know that it’s late and this conversation should be tabled until the morning.”
“Morning?” she echoed. “I expected to be halfway back to Dallas by morning.”
“When was the last time you slept, Lisbeth?”
“It’s Beth,” she corrected automatically. “And...I’m not sure.”
He nodded. “That’s what I figured.” He pointed to the rocking chair beside the crib. “Sit there with the baby for a few minutes while I make up the bed in the spare room across the hall.”
“Oh. Um...thank you.”
She hadn’t expected an invitation to stay. Of course, his words had been more in the nature of a command than an offer, but still, she was grateful. So she lowered herself into the rocking chair and snuggled with her nephew.
There were no words to express how happy she was to have Cody in her arms again, how grateful she was to know that he was safe. Worry and desperation had fueled her throughout the trip from Dallas—along with regular infusions of caffeine. But now that she was here, she felt completely drained—physically and emotionally.
She was also relieved that she didn’t have to drive any further tonight, even if it was just back into town to rent a room at a local motel. Assuming there was a motel in this town.
In any event, it probably wasn’t a bad idea for her to catch some shut-eye before embarking on the return journey.
It didn’t take Wilder long to put sheets on the bed in the guest room. And yet, he wasn’t surprised to return to the spare room that had been turned into a temporary nursery to find Beth fast asleep in the rocking chair, her nephew still in her arms.
Though he had no reason to doubt her claim that she was Leighton’s sister, he couldn’t see any obvious family resemblance. Leighton was a spirited blonde, and his first impression of Lisbeth was of a solemn brunette. With her messy ponytail and shapeless coat, Beth bore no physical resemblance to her curvy sister with the infectious laugh and lust for life.
And yet, there was something about Beth that sparked an unexpected—and unwanted—awareness inside him. Or maybe it was her obvious connection to her nephew that tugged at him. She’d wasted no time in making the trip from Dallas to Rust Creek Falls when she learned that he was there, which made him wonder again why Leighton had made the same trip to leave her baby with him when she had a sister who obviously would have been happy to care for the kid.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to get an answer to that question—or any other questions—tonight. So he reached for the baby, intending to return him to the crib. Beth’s arms instinctively tightened around the baby and her eyes flew open—a warrior ready to battle.
“I’m just putting him back in his bed so that you can go to yours,” he told her.
She blinked, and he noticed then that she had really pretty eyes—the color of dark chocolate and fringed by a sweep of long, dark lashes.
Those lashes fluttered again as the confusion slowly cleared from her gaze. “Oh. Okay.” She whispered her response as she finally relinquished her hold. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
“You can sleep now,” he said, as she rose from the chair.
She nodded. “Thank you. For letting me stay here tonight.”
He didn’t point out that the offer had been born of necessity rather than kindness, because he couldn’t have her knocking on the door of Strickland’s Boarding House at this late hour. And the only other option nearby was Maverick Manor, but he’d heard the owner proudly remark that the hotel was fully booked through the holidays.
“Go.” He steered her toward the open doorway across the hall. “There’s an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste in the adjoining bathroom, if you need them.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
He turned back to peek at the baby again, exhaling a weary sigh of relief that the little guy was still sleeping soundly—at least for the moment—before starting toward his own room.
Thanks to the attention and efforts of his family, the baby had been well cared for the previous day. But eventually they’d all headed back to their own homes, leaving Wilder and his dad alone with the infant.
As a father of six boys, Max had had more than his fair share of experience with diapers and bottles, but he’d insisted that this baby was his youngest son’s responsibility. Wilder didn’t think it was fair that his father was willing to assume that he was the kid’s dad just because some woman had scrawled his name at the top of the note.
“And because you admitted that you had a relationship with the mother,” Max had explained, when Wilder challenged the assumption of paternity.
He couldn’t deny that argument had some merit. That it wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility that he could be the father.
And that possibility scared the bejeezus out of him.
And if Leighton had paused long enough to consider the implications of that possibility before depositing her child at his door, it would have scared the bejeezus out of her, too.
What had she been thinking?
Unfortunately, the answer to that question was probably that she hadn’t been thinking.
By her own admission, she wasn’t much of a planner. It was more fun, she’d once told him, to live in the moment and embrace whatever surprises life had in store for her.
When Wilder had confided that he wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she’d surprised the heck out of him by inviting him back to her place.
And yeah, he’d liked that surprise.
This “surprise, you’re a daddy” thing—not so much.
And if he really was the kid’s dad...well, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little guy, because there was no chance Wilder was ever going to win a “Father of the Year” award.
Beth didn’t remember her head hitting the pillow.
She fell asleep quickly and slept deeply, and when she opened her eyes again, the clock on the bedside table read 12:48 p.m.
Certain that number couldn’t be accurate, she pressed the button on the side of her watch to illuminate its face.
12:48.
She jolted upright, shocked to realize that she’d slept for almost fourteen hours!
Her first thought after that: Cody.
She immediately pushed back the covers and hurried across the hall. Her heart, which had been pounding furiously against her ribs, settled into a more normal rhythm when she found her nephew in the crib, sleeping soundly.
She didn’t believe for a minute that he was still sleeping. More likely, Cody had been up at 6 a.m.—as was