The Baby In The Back Seat. Mollie Molay
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with a camera, not with a gun. In fact, I’d feel a heck of a lot better about all this if you’d put that thing away.”
“No problem.” She slid the rife into the leather scabbard attached to the saddle. The dog poised at the horse’s feet relaxed, but to add to Sam’s discomfiture, continued to eye him warily. “So do I get the baby? Looks to me as if you have enough on your hands without her.”
“Her name is Annie,” he said. He tramped back to the SUV and reached inside for the diaper bag that had been sitting beside the car seat. Back on dry land, he handed the bag and the baby to Laura. “Whatever her mother had in mind when she stashed Annie in my car, I hope she remembered to provide the fixings for Annie’s care.” He managed a grin. “Too bad she didn’t take the time to explain what I need to do with them.”
Laura whistled at the watchful dog. “Don’t worry, your daughter is in good hands. I’ll take care of her for now. Make your call, and follow me when you’re ready.”
While he punched out the number of the car-rental agency in Grand Junction on his cell, Sam watched Laura Evans canter off with Annie in her arms. In spite of his dim view of women at the moment, he couldn’t help but feel attracted to the feisty rancher.
To his disgust, he was put on hold, but this time he didn’t get as steamed as he usually did. The wait gave him time to check out the way Laura Evans filled out her form-fitting jeans and cotton shirt. He actually admired the picture she made—until he thought about the reason she carried a rifle.
He glanced at the weathered buildings, the lack of any real activity that bespoke a successful ranch. If the lady’s property was a paying proposition, it would be a surprise to him.
It looked as if Laura Evans ought to make the best of the situation and sell out to the highest bidder, instead of threatening would-be buyers with a rifle.
Someone finally answered his telephone call. He swore under his breath at the reply and put the phone back in his pocket. He wasn’t going anywhere, at least no time soon.
Shivering, he reached into the SUV for his duffel bag. Considering his dripping shirt and jeans and muddy boots, Annie wasn’t the only one who needed changing.
He knew he had to find a way to move on once he and Annie were clean and dry. Maybe calling the spa and asking for transportation would work. Sure as hell, if someone was trying to harass Laura Evans or frighten her into selling her ranch, the last thing she needed was to have him and Annie around to add to her problems. And the last thing he needed was to become involved.
As far as he could tell, paying for the damage he’d caused wasn’t going to help Laura Evans, either. Considering the mess it sounded she was in, what the lady needed was a miracle.
Chapter Two
Sam locked the banged-up SUV and, with a last rueful glance at the broken fence, trudged through the mud and up the small rise to the ranch house. From what he could see, the only tall structure around had been the water tower. Just his luck.
Outside of a weathered barn and a few newly painted small cabins, the redwood-sided ranch house was the only building worth a damn, in his opinion. Judging from a recent coat of oil-based stain, someone must have paid some attention to putting the place in shape. A futile effort if ever there was one, but he had to admire the effort. A dozen sheep grazed in a distant meadow. If they were the extent of the Evans herd, no wonder she was in trouble.
He noticed newly planted rosebushes ringing the porch as he approached the house. Stones, painted white, lined the freshly raked walk. Alongside the house, two lawn swings sat under the shade of an oak tree. The only sign of life was an elderly cowhand busy assembling what appeared to be some kind of wooden jungle gym.
A jungle gym? Sam gazed around for a sign of kids. Outside of the cowboy and the dog now sprawled on the porch watching him closely, there wasn’t another soul in sight. He shrugged and continued squishing his way in his muddy boots to the ranch house.
Not bad, he thought as he trudged up the wooden steps. Children or not, at least someone cared enough about the place to try to make it look decent.
The interior of the house, as he stood behind a screen door gazing in, surprised him even more. In contrast to the worn exterior, comfortable maple furniture had been burnished to a mellow yellow-brown sheen. Inviting rose-and-sea-foam-green chintz pillows had been thrown onto a large upholstered couch protected by crocheted white doilies. Hand-hooked rugs blanketed the polished oak floor in front of the couch. A huge stone fireplace covered a wall. Two comfortable-looking armchairs were drawn up in front of the fireplace. Sam sighed. The room looked mighty inviting after the accident and shower he’d just endured.
It was the kind of setting his mother and grandmother would have appreciated. In fact, he would have enjoyed a home like this if his profession hadn’t kept him on the move. And if he’d had a wife to welcome him home.
He glanced up to see Laura standing at the door and watching him expectantly. “What?”
“You’ve forgotten something.” She gestured to his mud-caked boots. “Please take off your boots and leave them by the door before you come in.”
Hopping on one foot at a time, Sam managed to comply. To his disgust, even his socks were soaked. Under Laura’s watchful gaze, he took them off, dropped them and his boots outside the door and gingerly entered the house barefoot. Damn, he thought, there was something about not having his boots on that put him at a clear disadvantage.
“Are you ready for Annie?”
Sam felt himself flush at the reminder of his daughter. He would have offered to clean up the baby before now, except he didn’t have a clue what to do. He not only felt inadequate, but he also didn’t like the reproachful look in Laura’s eyes. So what if he didn’t know about the care and feeding of babies? Were all fathers supposed to have learned how to diaper a baby, or did it come naturally?
“Sure, but…” He tried to look cool, but the truth was unavoidable. Maybe things would have been different if Paige had stuck around long enough to give him a chance. “I’m afraid I’ve never diapered a baby before.”
Laura didn’t look surprised. “I guess you’re not part of the seventy percent of today’s fathers who help raise their children.”
If there was one thing sure to light Sam’s fire, it was being put on the defensive. Especially when he felt that, under the circumstances, he was innocent of any blame. “Where did you get a statistic like that?”
“I was a maternity-ward nurse before I came back home to take care of my folks. We took a poll at the hospital and that’s what we found. Most men today say family comes first. In fact, some choose to stay at home with their children while their wives go out to work.”
Sam tried to envision staying behind to take care of home, hearth and family while Paige flew to Paris and points unknown. Considering how little he knew about the requirements of a house husband, let alone a father, the picture that came to mind was so ludicrous he almost laughed.
He focused on one thing Laura had said that calmed him. A maternity-ward nurse? His spirits rose. This was the first bit of good news he’d had all day. “You’re not putting me on, are you? A real maternity-ward nurse?”
“Until two years ago,” she answered. “I came back to stay when my parents passed away. So if you have any intention of raising your daughter by yourself, maybe you ought to let me show you how to care for her, instead of doing it for you.”
“Go ahead, please. Teach me.”
With a wry glance at Sam, Laura took a changing pad, wipes and a fresh diaper out of the diaper bag. She knelt on the floor beside the coffee table. “Watch carefully,” she said as she undid Annie’s soggy diaper. Crooning to the baby, she laid her on the pad. “First off you have to remember to change her often. A baby’s skin is very sensitive.” Sam nodded. “Actually,” she went on as she used a wipe to