Maverick Christmas Surprise

by Brenda Harlen

  “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.

  Chapter Two

  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 hatchback had been slipping and sliding in protest against the snow and ice that had been her near constant companion since Colorado Springs.

  But according to the faded “Welcome to Rust Creek Falls” sign posted at the side the highway, she had finally arrived. She checked her speed as she drove down Cedar Street, noting that the storefronts were all decked out for the holidays with boughs of evergreen and big red bows and twinkling lights. Of course, it was late on the day after Christmas, so the stores were closed, the roads mostly empty. No doubt all the town’s residents were huddled comfortably in their homes, basking in the holiday afterglow and enjoying time with family and friends.

  Certainly that was how she’d anticipated spending her holiday—not driving 1700 miles on her own, worry growing with each tick of the odometer. But missing out on the holiday didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was Cody.

  Once she was reunited with her nephew, she would think about how to track down her sister. Or maybe—fingers crossed—Leighton had already decided to return to Rust Creek Falls to pick up her baby and Beth would find her sister at the Ambling A when she arrived.

  Continuing to follow the directions on her phone, she finally pulled into a long, winding drive that would supposedly lead her to the Ambling A. Assuming, of course, that her GPS wasn’t sending her into the middle of a field where she’d get stuck in the snow and find herself surrounded by angry cows.

  The drive had been plowed, but it was still snow-covered, making everything appear blindingly white when her headlights cut through the blackness of the night. She drove slowly, carefully, following the tire tracks to ensure she didn’t veer off the road and end up in a ditch.

  The dash clock read 10:14 when she finally saw the two-story log home. Parking behind a dark pickup, she felt a slight twinge of disappointment that she didn’t see Leighton’s car, but right now her main focus was Cody.

  Still, she gave herself a moment to close her eyes that were burning with strain and fatigue. But only a moment, because any longer than that and she wasn’t sure she’d manage to open them again. And anyway, as exhausted as she was, her nephew was inside that house, and she couldn’t wait a minute longer to see him.

  Grabbing her purse, she pushed open the door. The blast of frigid air was a stark reminder that she wasn’t in Dallas anymore. Stepping out of the car, she nearly lost her footing on the snow-covered ground as the short-heeled boots that were perfectly suitable for winter in Texas proved to be no match for the ice and snow of Montana.

  She blinked in the sudden brightness as a floodlight activated. A motion sensor, she guessed, grateful for the illumination as she moved carefully over the frozen ground.

  There were no lights on inside the house, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her now.

  She noted the pine boughs draped over the railing of the porch and an enormous evergreen wreath decorated with a fancy velvet bow on the door—more reminders of the holiday she’d missed celebrating. She climbed the porch steps and, after a moment’s hesitation, bypassed the bell to knock on the door instead.

  When there was no response, she knocked a little harder.

  Then harder again.

  Finally, a light came on overhead, the door was wrenched open from the other side, and Beth found herself face-to-face with an obviously irritated man.

  Actually, she was face-to-chest with his gray T-shirt, s
o she didn’t see the scowl that furrowed his brow until she took an instinctive step back and lifted her gaze to his face.

  In addition to the scowl, he was wearing a pair of flannel pajama bottoms low on his hips and the previously noted T-shirt that stretched across his muscular torso. He folded strong arms over his broad chest now and pinned her with a dark, piercing gaze, causing her to belatedly question the wisdom of showing up at a stranger’s door on an isolated ranch in the middle of the night.

  Because she was certain that the sudden dryness of her throat and pounding of her heart were signs of fear and not an immediate and instinctive attraction to the prime male specimen in front of her.

  “I don’t know where you’re from, honey, but ’round here, people don’t come visiting in the middle of the night,” he said.

  The growly timbre of his voice made her shiver.

  Or maybe it was just the frigid air temperature.

  “Dallas,” Beth heard herself respond to what was obviously a rhetorical question. “And I’m not visiting—I’m here for my nephew.”

  “You’re the woman who answered Leighton’s phone,” he concluded.

  “Lisbeth,” she said. “But most people call me Beth. And you must be Wilder.”

  He nodded and, after only a moment’s hesitation, stepped away from the door to allow her to enter.

  She had a vague impression of a kitchen beyond the entranceway, though the interior was only dimly illuminated by the light that filtered through the window from the porch. She kicked off her boots and left them on the mat by the door and unbuttoned her thin coat as she followed Wilder further into a house that was toasty warm in contrast to the frigid air outside. “Where’s Cody?”

  She sensed more than saw his frown this time. “Did your sister send you to get him?”

  In retrospect, Beth would acknowledge that she should have answered his question with a firm and decisive yes. But in her agitated and sleep-deprived state, she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to see the obvious solution to her dilemma.

  “No, I still haven’t heard from Leighton,” she admitted instead. “And I’m starting to worry that something might have happened to her.”

  “I think what happened is that she got tired of being tied down by a baby,” he said, and handed her a piece of paper that he’d retrieved from the table.

  As she unfolded the page, he turned on the light over the stove so that she’d be able to read it. Beth immediately recognized her sister’s handwriting, and her heart sank as she skimmed the brief words. Then she read them more carefully.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, after she’d scanned the note a third time.

  “That makes two of us.”

  She looked at him again, noting the stubble that darkened his jaw and the overlong and tousled hair that suggested he’d just crawled out of bed. He was undeniably sexy with a slightly dangerous edge—exactly her sister’s type.

  None of which explained why she felt a quiver low in her belly when she found him looking back at her. Of course, it was probably just that she was overtired and overwhelmed and worried about her nephew. It certainly wasn’t a visceral response to his nearness. It couldn’t be.

  She cleared her throat as she refolded the note and handed it back to Wilder. “I want to see Cody now. Please.”

  He hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But maybe he sensed that she wouldn’t be put off—and that, if he even tried, she’d raise enough ruckus to wake the whole house—because he finally nodded.

  She followed him through the darkness, up a set of stairs, then down a hall until he finally paused in an open doorway. She glanced past him, into a room dimly illuminated by a nightlight plugged in beside a crib.

  “It looks like maybe you were expecting him,” she noted.

  He shook his head. “Maggie and Jesse—distant but local relatives—loaned us the crib. And the rocking chair.”

  Beth tiptoed to the crib, exhaling a long, quiet sigh of relief when she gazed down at the sleeping baby.

  “It’s okay, Cody. I’m here to take you home now.” She murmured the words softly as she reached down to lift him into her arms and cuddle him against her chest. He squirmed a little at first, but settled quickly again without making a sound of protest.

  Wilder stepped in front of the door, as if to block her path, and crossed those strong arms over his impressive chest again. “What are you talking about?” Though he kept his volume low so as not to disturb the sleeping infant, there was no mistaking the steel in his words. “You’re not going anywhere with that baby.”

  “Of course, I am,” she 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.