The Baby In The Back Seat. Mollie Molay
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“There has to be baby cereal around here someplace, unless Annie’s not eating solids yet.”
“Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know that, either.”
He looked so lost Laura decided maybe she’d been too hard on him. “Not to worry. From Annie’s healthy appearance, I’d say someone took good care of her.”
She gathered Annie in her arms, nestled her against her chest and brushed the baby’s velvet cheek with her lips. Murmuring softly, she grabbed the diaper bag and gestured to Sam’s duffel. “Maybe you’d like to get cleaned up while I take Annie into the kitchen and find out just what we do have in here.”
“I’d be mighty grateful to get out of these wet clothes.” He gestured to his wet shirt and soaking jeans, and shrugged helplessly.
Laura’s gaze focused on a shirt so wet it was transparent. Under it, wide shoulders, a muscular chest and dark-brown curls were as visible as in an artist’s rendition. She didn’t dare look below his waist.
“No problem,” she said nonchalantly. “Go on upstairs and take the first room on the right. If you don’t have everything you need in your duffel bag, check the closet.”
Sam halted in midstride. “You’re married?”
“No,” Laura answered. “The clothing belonged to my dad. I’ve never gotten around to packing it up and giving it away.”
Sam muttered his thanks and fled temptation as quickly as his bare feet would take him. The sight of Annie in the ranch owner’s arms hit him where it hurt. Turned his thoughts to early dreams of a warmhearted wife and children of his own. Before his world caved in on him.
The look in Laura’s eyes reminded him he was on probation as a father. Maybe as a man, too.
Considering the situation, he might be better off out of sight. At least until he’d cleaned up, rescued his boots and was able to take charge again.
The bedroom she’d directed him to appeared to be some kind of dormitory. A kid’s dormitory, judging from the size of the trio of bunk beds and the rest of the furniture. Footlockers under the beds took the place of dressers. One small chest of drawers was in a corner with a brass lamp on it. The beds were covered with handmade quilts, freshly starched green-and-white curtains hung on the windows, and a large hooked rug covered the floor. From the look of the room, Laura must be expecting the campers she’d mentioned.
The child-size bunk beds were definitely not intended for a six-foot-two-inch man. Unless he curled into a pretzel shape and let his legs hang over the edge. A bunk might be okay for Annie, if she didn’t turn over and topple off.
Between the too-short bunk bed and worrying about Annie, how in hell was he going to get any sleep tonight?
Through an open door, he caught a glimpse of a bathroom. Good, he thought as he shucked his damp clothing down to his shivering skin. A long hot shower was just the ticket. Cleaned up and with his boots on, he could face the lady rancher on equal terms.
In the bathroom an old-fashioned claw-foot tub greeted him. The sink was of the same vintage, maybe thirty years old or more. The shower was over the tub and enclosed by a plastic shower curtain. At least the tub was man-size, Sam mused gratefully as he stepped into the tub and let hot water run over him.
To his surprise, he found his boots, cleaned and shined, just inside the door when he came back into the bedroom. Room service? He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe his stay at the ranch was going to be more enjoyable than he’d thought.
He rummaged in his duffel for clean jeans and a fresh shirt. Once dressed, he took the stairs two at a time and headed for the sounds coming from the kitchen.
Annie was sitting on a stack of pillows. A large kitchen towel around her middle bound her firmly to the rungs of a kitchen chair. Her little hands were waving in the air, and milk dripped from her chin. Laura was laughing and waving a spoon to catch the baby’s attention. Sure enough, an enchanted Annie’s lips parted.
One swoop, another, then plop, the cereal went into Annie’s open mouth. Beside them, the alert mutt stood with his tongue hanging out, his tail wagging. From the expectant look in his eyes, Sam expected kindhearted Laura to give the dog his turn.
Sam stood silently, lost in thought. He’d usually been on the outside of life, photographing heartwarming scenes for others to enjoy. This one, with his own daughter in it, warmed his heart. Too bad his ex hadn’t hung around long enough to be a part of a scene like this.
Sam had thought he’d realized his dream of having a family of his own. Until Paige had told him he wasn’t a good husband, let alone father. Annie had been a mistake, she’d explained when she’d called him from Paris and told him she’d filed for divorce.
He gazed at little Annie. With her golden-brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a dimple in her chin, she was almost a mirror image of himself.
Annie, a mistake? No way. Annie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She might have a mother who’d opted out of motherhood, but she sure had a father who wanted her.
The domestic scene in front of him was unsettling. He told himself he still had mountains to climb, roads to travel, photographs to take. That it was the wrong time and place to become maudlin over broken dreams.
He’d have to forget the attraction he was beginning to feel for Laura, both for her sake and for his. His first priority was to prove he could make it as a father—or bust a gut trying.
Laura Evans apparently had problems of her own, anyway. She didn’t need him to complicate her life.
There was only one thing left to do, he thought as he cleared his throat and made his presence known. As soon as the car-rental agency turned up with another vehicle, he’d take Annie, do Laura a favor and get out of her life.
Arm in midair, Laura looked up at Sam. In a clean, although wrinkled, white shirt and fresh khakis, he looked taller, more sure of himself. Maybe not as sexy as he’d looked when he was dripping wet, but definitely interesting.
“Hungry?” she asked. Annie banged her spoon on the table and babbled a welcome. The dog growled at the interruption.
“Sure,” Sam answered with a grin. “That is, if you have something more filling than baby cereal around.”
“Of course,” Laura answered. “Just give me a minute to finish feeding Annie.”
“How about letting me take over?” Sam suggested. “I may as well learn the drill.”
Laura regarded him thoughtfully before she stood and handed him the spoon. “Of course. Just don’t put too much on the spoon at one time or she’ll choke.”
Sam sensed her reluctance. He understood her dilemma all too well. He might be Annie’s father, but Laura was concerned he might not be able to do the right thing for the baby. “With you here to supervise, I’ll do fine,” he said bravely. “Just wait and see.”
“I wasn’t expecting company,” Laura answered. “Ham and eggs and hash browns for supper okay with you?”
Sam sat down and gingerly dipped the spoon into the cereal and aimed for Annie’s mouth. “Sure,” he answered. Happily Annie was hungry enough to cooperate. “By the way, thanks for cleaning my boots.”
“It wasn’t me,” Laura answered as she rummaged in an old refrigerator. “Hank took care of it. Said a man without his boots is like a fish out of water.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sam answered, wiping excess cereal off Annie’s chin. “Who’s Hank? I’d like to thank him.”
“The ranch handyman,” Laura answered. “He’s been around here for more years than he can remember. Not that there’s a lot for him to do anymore,” she added as she sliced a shank of ham, “but he said that since the old sheep herder’s life has passed him by, he might as well hang around here.”
Sam