“Ow,” John said. “So, okay, I don’t get any points for the diaper. Satisfied?”
“John,” Laura said, coming into the room, “your—oh, my stars, what happened in here? Did burglars break in and trash the place?”
John struggled to sit up, plopping Jeremiah on his lap in the process.
“Hold your tongue, woman,” he said. “I’ll have you know that Jeremiah is now the proud wearer of a dry diaper.”
“Well, congratulations,” Laura said with a burst of laughter.
“Thank you,” John said, nodding decisively.
Laura’s smile faded. “John, Mitch is on the telephone and would like to speak to you.”
“Not now. I’m busy. I’ll talk to him later.”
“But—”
“No, Laura,” he said, frowning at her. “Mitch will get into a big spiel about my being prince whoever and I don’t want to hear it, think about it. Did you tell him about Jeremiah?”
“No. I spoke with your…with King Phillip and told him that you’d arrived at The Rocking C, that I’d informed you of your true identity, and that you had the Wyndham baby ring in your possession. I said you had some pressing personal business that required your full attention at the moment, and you couldn’t address the issue of your heritage at the present time.”
“Oh.” John nodded. “Well, thank you. That ought to buy me some space.”
“Apparently everyone was gathered around while I was speaking with King Phillip,” Laura went on, “because I heard him relate what I said, then Mitch came on the line and asked what your pressing personal business was. I said it was up to you to tell him. So, he wants to talk to you.”
“Cripe.” John rolled to his feet with Jeremiah in his arms. “All right. I’ll use the phone in the kitchen. Mitch better not push me about this prince stuff.”
John strode past Laura, who ducked out of the way of Jeremiah’s swinging spoon. She looked at the disaster that had once been the neat-as-a-pin living room, and began to pick up the baby’s clothes that were scattered across the floor.
When John returned ten minutes later, the room had been restored to a semblance of order.
“Mitch is so damn…darn…stubborn,” John muttered.
“And you’re not?” Laura said, raising her eyebrows.
John ignored her question. “I got Mitch to agree not to let the Wyndhams descend on me here. I think he understood that I have enough to deal with at the moment. Mitch has to get back to run the ranch, but at least he won’t come home right away because the foreman he left in charge is top-notch.”
Laura nodded.
“This whole thing is crazy,” John went on. “How would you like to find out you’re not who you thought you were for thirty years? Of course, I never really felt like a true Colton, either…. No, forget it. I’m not dwelling on it now.”
Laura nodded again.
“I’ve got to turn that truck in to the rental office in Hope, and buy Jeremiah a decent bed and car seat.”
“And clothes,” Laura said. “I’ve stacked up what he has, John, and half of them appear to be too small. What might fit isn’t going to last long because they’re very threadbare.”
“Dandy,” John said, frowning.
“There aren’t very many jars of baby food, either,” Laura said. “Is he still on formula?”
“No, he just switched to regular milk.”
“Well, that’s a help, but you’ve got a major shopping expedition ahead of you. You need a playpen, too.”
“What for?” John said, setting Jeremiah onto the rug in front of the hearth.
The baby dropped the spoon and crawled toward a jar of baby food that was sitting on the floor. Laura snatched up the glass jar before Jeremiah reached it.
“That’s why,” she said. “He has to be someplace safe so you can take a shower, or prepare a meal. Playpens have been known to save the sanity of caregivers.”
“I’d better make a list of what I need before I head to town.” John dragged one hand through his hair. “I’ll get one of the ranch hands to follow me in so I can turn in the rented truck, then…”
Thunder boomed above the house and rain began to fall in sheets. John stared up at the ceiling.
“I don’t need this,” he said gruffly. “I really don’t need this.”
“Why don’t I take care of Jeremiah while you go to town,” Laura said. “It’s so cold and now it’s raining, and he doesn’t even have shoes, or a jacket. You’ll accomplish everything you need to do much faster without him along.”
John smiled. “What if he needs a dry diaper while I’m gone?”
“If you can do it,” Laura said with a shrug, “then I can do it. How tough can it be?”
John whooped with laughter. “That’s what I said. Did you see all those little sticky tab things on the floor? I kept tearing them off before I could get them stuck on. You need an engineering degree to figure out those stupid diapers.”
Laura matched his smile. “If all else fails, I’ll use masking tape.”
“There you go,” John said.
Their smiles disappeared slowly as they continued to look at each other. The sensual haze returned, weaving around them, igniting the embers of desire still glowing, simmering within them.
Jeremiah began to cry as a ball he’d been attempting to pick up rolled out of his grasp. Laura and John jerked to attention, then looked at the wailing baby. Laura scooped him up and patted him on the back.
“That ball is too big for you, sweetheart,” she said. “Your daddy will get you some new toys that are just right.” She looked at John again. “What bedroom are you going to set up for his nursery?”
“Jeremiah and I won’t be staying in this house,” John said.
“But where—”
“There’s a furnished cabin we can use in the woods beyond the barn. Jeremiah and I will live there for now.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my son, Laura, and the only way I can learn how to be a proper father is to jump in and do it…alone.”
Chapter Four
During the following hours Laura decided she was in heaven. Jeremiah was an enchanting, happy, busy little boy, and she was having a marvelous time playing with him. His smile lit up his little face, and his laughter was like tinkling wind chimes.
At noon she set up the high chair in the kitchen and fed Jeremiah his lunch, talking to him the entire time. He opened his mouth like a hungry baby bird when the spoon approached, managing to bang noisily on the plastic tray at the same time.
Laura mastered the technique of diaper changing and mentally patted herself on the back at her expertise. She covered the crib mattress with a sheet and Jeremiah was soon snoozing away on the makeshift bed on the floor in front of the hearth.
Laura sat cross-legged on the rug next to the mattress, watching the baby sleep.
“You’re beautiful and wonderful,” she said softly, “and you have a magnificent father, Jeremiah. Be patient with him while he learns how to take care of you. He’ll make mistakes at first, but it won’t matter. What’s important is that he loves you very, very much.”
Laura leaned back against the sofa, her gaze still fixed on Jeremiah.
A baby like this one, she mused, was part of her rainbow wish. Oh, how she yearned to be a mother. And a wife. To have a special man in her life who loved her, would stay by her side until death parted them, her soul mate.
The image of John flitted suddenly before her mind’s eye and she frowned.
What on earth was John Colton doing in her rainbow wish fantasy?
Well, it made sense, she supposed. She was tending to John’s son, so her thoughts just naturally drifted to the baby’s father. Yes, that was it.
She was not dwelling on the previous night spent with John. No. No way. This was the light of the new day, reality-check time.
John had made it crystal clear that what had happened between them was best forgotten. It was over, finished, d
one. He wanted nothing to do with her on a man and woman plane, because he intended to concentrate fully on raising Jeremiah.
Heavens, the man wouldn’t even address the fact that he was Prince James Wyndham of Wynborough. The heirloom ring he wore about his neck proved his identity beyond doubt. How long would it be before he was willing to acknowledge who he was and meet the members of the family he hadn’t even known he had?
Laura sighed.
John was building the wall around himself and Jeremiah higher and stronger, allowing no one to come close to either of them. And now he was going to take the baby to a cabin in the woods, rather than stay in the house where he, himself, had been raised. The house where she was living for the time being.
Alone, John had said. He would learn how to be a fit and proper father to Jeremiah alone. But hadn’t it occurred to John Colton that doing it all alone might lead to loneliness?
No, maybe that wasn’t true in his case. Maybe he didn’t need anyone special in his life. Maybe he would be just fine in that cabin with Jeremiah.
Jeremiah stirred, then stuck his thumb in his mouth and settled back into peaceful slumber.
Laura just sat there, drinking in the sight of the child who was a mirror image of his daddy. She gave up the battle and allowed Jeremiah to stake a firm and permanent hold on her heart.
And his father? she thought. All she would have of John were the memories of their night together. That was it. There was nothing more and never would be.
“So be it,” she said.
Laura heard the door to the mudroom open and close, then Betty appeared in the living room moments later.
“I’m back,” Betty said, “just in time to start something for supper and…There’s a baby sleeping in front of the fireplace.”
“There is?” Laura turned her head to smile over at the housekeeper.
Betty swept her gaze across the room, then came to stand at the end of the mattress.
“And he came with his equipment,” the woman said. “What in the name of heaven is going on here?”
“John’s home,” Laura said.
“Oh, that explains everything,” Betty said, planting her hands on her hips. “John came home, you two made whoopee and had a baby who is, oh, about a year old. I wasn’t at The Triple Bar that long, miss. Who is that child?”
“I should let John tell you,” Laura said, “but I have no idea when he’ll be back from town. He had a very long shopping list when he left here because Jeremiah needs just about everything and—”
“Laura!”
“Jeremiah is John’s son,” Laura blurted out.
Betty stared at the sleeping baby, looked at Laura, then Jeremiah, then back at Laura.
“Well,” Betty said finally, “isn’t that something? John Colton is a father? That title doesn’t fit him too well in my mind. Where’s the mother?”
“She died,” Laura said. “John just found out about Jeremiah and has come home to raise him. Well, not exactly home, in this house. He’s taking Jeremiah to a cabin in the woods beyond the barn.”
Betty nodded. “It’s a nice little place. John’s a father. Good grief. Did you tell him that he’s also a prince?”
“Yes,” Laura said with a sigh, “but he refuses to address the issue now. He said he had enough on his plate with being a new daddy.”
“The man has a point,” Betty said. “That baby is the spitting image of John, isn’t he? Well, I’d better go open up that cabin and air it out some. I’ll open the windows for a spell now that the rain has stopped, and put some food in the refrigerator. I’d better run a dust cloth over the furniture, too.”
“You don’t seem surprised that John won’t stay here in the house with Jeremiah.”
“Honey, nothing John Colton could do would surprise me. He’s like a closed book that won’t give you a peek at the pages inside.
“John has a son. Fine. John wants to tackle fatherhood on his own in the cabin in the woods. Fine. Trying to reason with John Colton once he has set his mind on something is a waste of time.”
Laura nodded.
“I sure respect what John is doing, though,” Betty said firmly.
“What do you mean?”
“John has always been a loner, restless, edgy, on the move,” the housekeeper said. “A man like that could very well have turned his back on that little fella sleeping there.
“But not John Colton. There’s a fine, honorable man beneath that crusty exterior. Course, I knew that all along. He’s a Colton.”
“He’s also a Wyndham,” Laura said.
“There’s that, too.” Betty shook her head. “Mercy sake, our John has a lot to deal with all at once, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” Laura said, nodding. “Yes, he does, and he wants to deal with it all alone.”
“Hmm. Do I hear the sound of sadness in your voice, Laura?”
“No, no, of course, not. That is…No, Betty, I…”
Betty laughed. “Very interesting. Well, I’m off to set things to rights in that cabin. You just tend to your boy there.”
“He isn’t mine,” Laura said, hardly above a whisper as she gazed at Jeremiah.
Betty stared at Laura for a long moment, smiled, nodded, then spun around and headed back toward the kitchen.
“Jeremiah isn’t mine,” Laura said to no one, “and I must remember that.”
John sank onto the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, dropping each onto the floor with a thud. He flopped backward with a groan and closed his eyes.
Oh, man, he thought, he was so bone-deep tired, he’d never be able to move again. He’d just stay where he was until someone bothered to come and cart him away.
He struggled to an upright position, removed his shirt and jeans, then crawled between the cool sheets on the bed with a grateful sigh. He inhaled the aroma of fresh air and sunshine as he rolled onto his stomach and sank his head into the soft pillow.
Betty still hung the sheets on the clothesline outside, he thought foggily. Nice. That smell brought back memories of days and years long gone.
He could remember times when he’d been in some god-awful place halfway around the world, attempting to sleep on the hard ground in clothes soaked with sweat and mud, and he’d have a flash in his mind of those sweet-smelling clean sheets on his bed at the ranch.
Well, now he was home, lying on Betty’s sunshine sheets, but his life was so damn complicated, it made the nights he’d slept on the ground during covert missions seem like a picnic.
Sleep. He needed sleep. He was still suffering from jet lag. On top of that he’d spent hours shopping for things for Jeremiah.
While he’d been in town he was recognized by a lot of people who greeted him with a smile, though they tried and failed to hide their surprise at his return.
He’d nodded to Lucy, the reverend’s wife, and she’d sure as hell acted weird. She’d gasped, turned kind of pale, then rushed off as though something was nipping at her heels. Whatever her problem was, he’d chosen not to think about it. It wasn’t important enough.
After returning to the ranch, he’d put together the new crib and a changing table, lugged all the other stuff into the cabin and found a home for everything, then finally collected his son from Laura.
Laura had fed Jeremiah his dinner, given him a bath and presented him to John in a pair of blanket sleepers and smelling like soap. The baby had, thank goodness, gone right to sleep when he’d been placed in his new crib.
Despite Laura having never changed a diaper before today, John mused sleepily, she was obviously a natural-born mother. She’d handled Jeremiah with a relaxed ease, had settled the baby on her hip the way he’d seen so many women do.
But the mighty John Colton? Hell, he felt so clumsy and inept whenever he held Jeremiah. His hands were too big and rough, and he continually worried that he would hold the baby too tightly, or not tightly enough, or—
Hell, it wasn’t fair. Why did women have natural instincts about babies,
while men had to learn everything from scratch? Or was it just him who was lacking, versus other men who could step in and get the job done with no problem?
“What difference does it make?” he mumbled, punching the pillow.
The fact remained that he was Jeremiah’s father. One look at the baby was proof enough. The two of them would have to make the best of the situation. Together. Somehow.
What was he going to do?
Stay on the ranch to raise his son? Live and work on the land, a place where he’d never felt comfortable, never really fit in?
Jeremiah needed stability in his life, a home, a routine. There was a routine on The Rocking C, all right, the same monotonous work, day in, day out, on acres and acres of land that drained a man dry of strength sunup to sundown. His father and brother loved that life-style, lived and breathed it. He hated it.
John flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling he couldn’t actually see in the darkness.
Hey, now, he thought, he didn’t have to break his back working on the ranch. He was a prince, for crying out loud. Prince James Wyndham of Wynborough, wherever the hell that was.
“Cripe,” he said aloud.
He dragged both hands down his face, then dropped his arms heavily onto the bed.
A prince. That was so bizarre, so nuts. And so true, because Laura wouldn’t lie to him. He now had two sets of parents and a bunch of sisters, who were princesses, thrown in for good measure. Crazy.
Yeah, well, the fact that he, John Colton, also known as James Wyndham in royal circles, was a father wasn’t too sane, either.
Poor Jeremiah. That cute, innocent little guy sure had been stuck with a bum rap, and he didn’t even know it yet.
Well, all John could do was the best he could do, one day at a time. Yeah, that was the ticket…one day at a time. Just concentrate on Jeremiah, nothing else.
He wouldn’t dwell on this Prince James Wyndham of Wynborough stuff. Not now. Although it sure did explain why he’d never had a love for the land like the Coltons.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t think about Laura. About how good she felt when he held her close to his heated body. About the taste of her sweet lips, the sound of her laughter, her aroma of flowers.
Man...Mercenary...Monarch (Royally Wed) Page 5
