His gaze drifted over her face. “I don’t see what is so shocking.” Moving away, he rummaged around in the fridge and brought out a container of pizza dough and a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese. “You need a place of your own to live, if you’re to have the best chance of being chosen to foster-adopt Robby. And right now you don’t have one, except for this ranch, which you don’t seem to think is going to be an acceptable home—in the minds of those making the decision, anyway.”
She moved to the other side of the island, to give him room to work. “It’s not the ranch. It’s the arrangement. What it might seem to imply.”
He set the oven to preheat then rolled the dough out onto a baking sheet. “What goes on between you and me, Bridgett, is between you and me.”
The walls around his heart were as impenetrable as ever, yet there was no mistaking the sexual undertone in his low voice. Disappointment lanced her heart. “You’re saying there are strings attached?”
It was his turn to look surprised. Nixing the allegation with a shake of his head, he lightly touched her forearm. “No strings.”
Thank heaven!
“I am saying I’d like to make love to you again.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I’m not going to lie about that. And judging by the fireworks in the bedroom, I think you want the same thing.”
She did. That was the hell of it. She worked to keep her tone nonchalant. “I also need to prove that I can stand on my own two feet. Take care of myself and a baby and a dog without relying on the kindness of family and friends to do so.”
That hit a chord. He opened a jar of pizza sauce, and spread it over the dough. “My mom used to say the same.”
Not surprised he was as adept in the kitchen as he was everywhere else, Bridgett set her elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her hand. “And?”
“It was never true. Everywhere we went, there were people who reached out to help.” He sprinkled shredded mozzarella onto the pizza, then added sliced pepperoni and precooked sausage. “Other moms who watched me when I was sick, so she could still go to work. Cowboys who taught me to ride and rope and took me out on the ranch to work right alongside them when I was out of school.”
Salivating, she watched him slide their dinner into the oven to bake. “Is that how you became interested in ranching?”
He grabbed two light beers and came to sit next to her. “I loved being outdoors. Working the land, caring for the cattle. Being my own man.”
Their knees touched as he swung toward her. “As long as we’re on the subject...” He flashed her a sexy grin. “How did you decide to become a nurse?”
“I’ve just always loved taking care of people. My twin sister, Bess, feels the same. Nursing was the one career that made sense.”
He tapped the neck of her bottle with his. “You have a lot to offer a child, Bridgett. Riot, too. With Mitzy’s help, the people in the department will see that.”
“I hope so.” She didn’t know what she would do if she lost the opportunity to be Robby’s mother.
* * *
THEY ATE A quick dinner together. Bridgett shooed him off while she did the dishes, since he had cooked. And Cullen spent the rest of the evening answering questions to potential buyers about the Hotlander cattle he was putting up for auction, both by phone and on email. By the time he was finished it was midnight. Robby and Riot had long ago been put to bed for the night, and Bridgett was in the guest room, door shut. He passed by, saw from the arc of yellow light coming out from under the door the lamp was still on. He wanted to ask if everything was okay, but aware of all she had been through and was still dealing with, forced himself to respect her privacy.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. He tossed and turned for a while, wishing he’d taken her back to his room for another bout of hot lovemaking, but knew he was treading on dangerous territory. Finally, he drifted off into a restless sleep. He came downstairs at 6:00 a.m. the following morning. Bridgett was already up and dressed.
“Need me to do anything before I head out?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.
She gave him a sweetly contented look that made him want to make love to her all over again. “No. Everyone’s been fed, changed and/or taken outside.”
Noting the scrapes on her legs looked better, he nodded at the Mason jar in her hand. “What are you eating?”
She licked the back of the spoon. “Overnight oatmeal.”
He moved closer, inhaling her lavender lotion scent. “What?”
She smiled at him as if sharing space like this was the most natural thing in the world. “You mix it with milk and other stuff and let it set overnight in the fridge.” She waved an airy hand. “I made extra, if you want to try it. One has bananas, yogurt and pecans. Another one has fresh peach, almonds and coconut. And there’s a blueberry, raspberry and blackberry one, too. Take your pick.”
“Where’d you learn to do this?”
Her eyes lit up as she savored another bite. “Nursing school. We were encouraged to eat healthy to keep going.” She shifted slightly, so he could get into the fridge. “The classes, studying and long shifts left little time to cook. So Bess and I figured out how to do as much as possible ahead so we could grab something from the fridge and go.”
He chose the one with the bananas and took a place standing next to her.
The cereal was creamy, crunchy and sweet. “It’s good.” He took another bite. “Almost like a breakfast dessert.”
From his infant seat, Robby looked around with interest. Bridgett picked up her phone and, adjusting the seat so the light coming in from the windows was just right, took a couple of quick photos. He couldn’t blame her. The kid was adorable.
Not to be outdone, Riot—who had been lounging on his dog cushion—came closer, his tail wagging. Bridgett knelt down and took some photos of him, too.
Without warning, she turned the cell’s camera lens toward Cullen and popped off a few more of him eating breakfast. “What are you doing?”
“Gathering photos for Robby’s baby book.” She gestured to the island counter, showing him the embossed white leather album with Baby’s First Year written in gold leaf across the front.
It looked expensive. And it was still in the original protective wrapping.
He studied her loosely flowing hair and pink cheeks. “Where and when did you get this?”
Bridgett beamed. “At the baby boutique in town, when I first decided to foster-adopt. I knew getting a baby could happen suddenly, so I wanted to be ready.”
That made sense, knowing how sentimental she was. Starting it now—when she was far from being awarded permanent custody—did not.
He put his empty dishes in the dishwasher. Turning back to her, he clamped his arms across his chest. “Why are you doing this?”
Her chin took on the stubborn tilt he was beginning to know so well. “So, no matter what happens to him, Robby will know that he was loved his very first days.” She jerked in a quavering breath. “It won’t just be the story of how he was found in a cardboard shipping box with only a little puppy to watch over him.” Her voice caught. It was a moment before she could go on. “Though I’m hoping he never learns that part.”
Cullen’s heart clutched. “Me, too.”
Next to the album was an open file folder. It held the fostering paperwork along with the note that Robby had been found with. “You’re planning to put that in, too?”
Bridgett stiffened in indignation. “This letter proves that his mother loved him and wanted the best for him.” She studied him, scowling. “I can see you don’t approve. You think that I shouldn’t be doing this at all, at least, not now,” she guessed in obvious disappointment.
“I think you’re setting yourself up to be terribly hurt if this dream of raising Robby as your own child all goes south.” Which it still could.
Bridgett
glared at him resentfully. “Don’t you think if Robby and Riot had any other family who wanted to keep them, that family would certainly have realized the two were missing by now and be looking for them?”
Cullen didn’t know how to respond, except to say, “You would certainly hope so.”
Fortunately, in the meantime, there were things he could do to protect them all.
* * *
“HEY,” CULLEN SAID, to his brother Dan, later the same afternoon. “I’m glad you could take the time to meet with me.”
Dan stepped out of his patrol car. “I was headed in this direction, anyway. What’s up?”
Cullen took the tack off his horse and led him into the stable. “I’m worried about Bridgett.”
His brother lounged in the center aisle. “Taking care of a baby and a puppy—and putting up with you—too much for her?”
Cullen made sure his horse had fresh water and then shut the stall door. “Ha, ha.”
Dan accompanied him to the tack room. “You are a handful. According to Mom, all of us kids are.”
Except he wasn’t one of Rachel’s kids, Cullen thought, putting the saddle away.
He was a stepson.
Not that Rachel treated him any differently. In fact, she treated him like he was her biological son, too.
Aware this wasn’t something he could discuss with his law-enforcement half brother, Cullen sobered. “Bridgett thinks it’s destiny that she was the one who found Robby and Riot.”
As far as he was concerned, whimsical thinking like that only brought trouble.
Dan shrugged and walked back out into the sunshine with him. “Maybe it was.”
“She’s got her heart set on adopting them both and being their mom. She’s even making a baby book.”
Dan leaned up against the pasture fence. “You’re worried someone is going to come and claim him?”
“Or maybe won’t now—only to show up later when her heart is really involved. Which is why we have to solve as much of the mystery as we can, as soon as we can.”
“You’ve got some more ideas on how to go about this?”
Cullen nodded. “Do you remember me talking about the original Riot?”
His brother squinted. “You mean, aside from that one time, the first year you were with us?”
It had been an awful, awkward, emotional conversation, with him fighting back tears. Cullen bit down his embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“No. You’ve never mentioned him since. Or anything the least bit personal to you.”
“Exactly,” Cullen said, knowing it to be true. “Yet someone—who left the baby and named their puppy after mine—knows about him. They must, because that’s not a common dog name. And that’s gotten me to thinking. I vaguely recall telling a few stories about my Riot to a group of people at some point during the last year.”
Dan straightened. “Seriously?”
“It wasn’t anything I’d planned. The subject of dogs came up and someone asked me point-blank if I’d ever had one. Before I knew it, I was talking about the virtues of having a dog, as a boy, on the various cattle ranches where my mom and I lived. How he made every new place immediately seem like home.”
Dan rubbed his jaw. “Wow. I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about anything but cattle ranching.”
Cullen gave the other man a deadpan look. “I was hoping you might be able to help me figure out where or when this soliloquy of mine happened.”
Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds like a gathering that was at least semi-social.”
“Yeah.” But where? And when?
“You think figuring this out will lead you to who left the baby?”
“It’s possible. One thing is for sure,” Cullen admitted worriedly, “I’m not sure Bridgett will recover if she loses Robby and Riot.”
Nor was it likely she’d want to spend a lot of time hanging out with him. Or at the Western Cross, given the painful memories that would likely generate. He’d be nothing but a reminder of all she’d lost.
Dan studied him. “What about you? How are you going to feel if someone comes forward to claim them?”
Bummed. He’d gotten used to having the baby and puppy around. Bridgett, too. Bridgett especially. Aware his brother was still waiting for his answer, Cullen adopted a poker face. “I’ll be fine.”
Dan studied him in disappointment. “Robby’s really not your kid?”
Cullen wondered how many times he would have to repeat this. “Really not.” But he was beginning to wish they were his family. Not one to dwell on things he could not change, however, he pushed on. “Anyway, that’s the second reason I called you. I wanted to find out if there were any updates on the search.”
“Actually—” Dan brightened “—there are.”
* * *
DAN ONLY WANTED to go over it once, so they went up to the ranch house. Bridgett was in the kitchen, typing away madly on her laptop computer. Robby was sleeping in his Moses basket nearby. The smell of still-brewing coffee and home-baked cookies filled the room. Additional baked goods lined the counter. “More gifts of food?” he asked, stepping inside.
Bridgett smiled happily, still typing. “And baby and puppy things. It’s tradition, when there’s a newborn or new pet in the house.”
He was beginning to see that.
A constant influx of unexpected visitors was not something he usually liked. On the other hand, their generosity made going into town—for some of the very things that had been dropped off—an avoidable chore. With the virtual auction coming up, he was glad not to have to spend the extra time commuting back and forth.
Not sure what he was interrupting, Cullen asked, “Is this an okay time to talk?”
Bridgett saw his brother, in uniform, come in after him. She closed her laptop and gestured for the two men to help themselves to a late-afternoon treat. “Sure. I was just filling out more bank paperwork.”
With a nod of thanks, Cullen and Dan helped themselves to cookies. “I thought that was a closed avenue.”
“The local bank is,” she said, taking a peanut-butter cookie for herself. “I’m trying one of those online services that promise to provide a loan to every kind of borrower.”
Or, at least, take your application fee and squash your hopes, Cullen thought.
Bridgett continued cheerfully, “They’ve promised an answer within forty-eight to seventy-two hours, provided I give them all the necessary documentation. The sellers agreed to give me one more try to obtain financing, so I’m going for it.”
She walked across the room to the Moses basket, tenderly checked on Robby. Seeing he was starting to wake, she checked her watch then went to get a bottle of formula from the fridge.
“What’s up?” She tossed the words over her shoulder, giving Cullen a fine view of her slender waist and delectable backside. She was beautiful in a nurse’s uniform, but she also looked damn fine in jeans and a form-fitting red knit shirt that clung to her midriff and buttoned up the front.
Too fine for him not to want her.
Apparently oblivious to his amorous thoughts, Dan leaned against the counter, arms folded in front of him. He looked at them both seriously. “I wanted to update you both on the progress of the investigation thus far. We dusted the shipping box the baby was found in and came up with fourteen different sets of fingerprints. None of them matched anything in the integrated fingerprint identification system.”
“What kind of box was it, anyway?” Cullen asked, aware he’d never actually seen it.
Bridgett gave the name of a popular internet shipping company.
Cullen watched her set the bottle in the electric warmer that Rachel had thoughtfully brought over the previous day. “Did it have an address label?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dan confirmed.
Bridgett nodded. �
��But both the address and tracking numbers had been marked through with permanent black ink.”
Cullen felt a stab of disappointment. He wanted to get this mystery cleared up, so they could all move forward, unencumbered, a permanent home for Robby and Riot and Bridgett decided upon.
“There’s no way to uncover what was beneath?” Realizing the coffee had finally finished brewing, he gave his brother a mug then poured two more. His fingers grazed the silky softness of Bridgett’s as he handed hers over. Fueling memories of their passionate lovemaking the day before and furthering his desire to bring them closer yet, in ways that went far beyond this situation they found themselves in.
Dan answered Cullen’s question matter-of-factly. “We sent it to the crime lab for analysis. They said they would do their best but weren’t encouraging.”
“What about the clinics and hospitals?” Bridgett asked, stirring some cream into her coffee, her soft pink lips taking on an even more serious curve. “Anything there?”
“Nothing yet,” Dan admitted candidly, “but we’re still hopeful.”
Bridgett nodded, sipping her coffee as she and Dan exchanged knowing looks. Cullen felt like the odd man out. She explained. “We know by the way the entire umbilical cord was left hanging that Robby was not born with any medical personnel present. Otherwise, that would have been handled much differently. So his mother could have similar post-birth problems that would have compelled her to seek medical help.”
“So, why not put out the news about what happened and publically encourage her to come in for the proper medical care she needs?”
“Because that would likely have the opposite effect and could keep her in hiding,” Bridgett said firmly.
Dan drained his mug. “The department agrees. The best thing to do is stay the course. Plus, we’re starting to get a few tips.”
“Like...?” Cullen prodded.
“An elderly resident on Spring Street noticed a car moving slowly down her street around three thirty in the morning, a few hours before Robby was found.”
The Texas Cowboy's Baby Rescue Page 8
