The Baby Invasion (Destiny Bay-Baby Dreams)

by Conrad, Helen

  He suddenly seemed weightless when he joined with her. Her body took wings. Her breathing was ragged, hard, but full of joy. He surged in her again and again and she clung to him, riding the whirlwind now, sailing into an intense ecstasy.

  Spent, she lay back, panting. He lay beside her, groaning with pleasure.

  “I take it back,” he muttered when the ability to speak had returned to his throat. “You’re definitely not virginal.”

  She laughed. This was what life could be like. So she laughed. Because now, at least, she’d had a taste of Eden.

  Charity was waiting at the back door for their return. They’d walked up from the lake, arm in arm, carrying the picnic basket and stopping to examine rocks and mosses and clumps of lacy ferns. Scott had woven wildflowers in Cathy’s hair, and she was under the happy spell of their lovemaking. But when she saw Charity’s face, concern took over, blotting out contentment.

  “What is it?”

  Even though she didn’t know Charity well, she knew an expression of apprehension when she saw one. Her blood froze and fear flashed through her. “What happened? Are the children all right?”

  Charity put a hand on her arm. “The children are fine. Don’t worry about them. But there’s been... a slight... disturbance while you were gone.”

  Before she could go on, the back door opened and a uniformed police officer stood in the doorway, filling it with his commanding presence.

  “Scott Carrington?” he asked brusquely, glaring down at Scott. “Are you Scott Carrington?”

  Scott disentangled himself from Cathy and stood facing the man, his legs spread, his eyes narrowed, the picture of wary readiness. Watching, Cathy wanted to step in between them and diffuse whatever was building here with her feminine instinct for conciliation.

  “Scott,” she whispered, reaching to touch him. “Please.”

  He ignored her, his chin lifting with masculine arrogance.

  “I’m Scott Carrington,” he answered evenly. “What’s the problem, Officer?”

  The man didn’t answer right away. Looking down at a piece of paper he held in his hand, he went on. “And is this lady with you one Cathy Feenstra of Destiny Bay, California?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked up, staring first at one of them, then the other. “Are you all right, Mrs. Feenstra?” he asked at last.

  She blinked in surprise. “Y-yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “We’ve had a report of a kidnapping. Mr. Carrington. I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”

  For seconds, Scott and Cathy were both speechless, then they both tried to explain at once. The policeman put up a hand.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said sternly. “I’d like to hear your explanations. One by one.”

  Scott entered the building, walking beside the policeman and beginning his explanation right away, pulling out identification and talking fast. Cathy came behind with Charity.

  “I’ve been telling Officer Mike he has it all wrong,” Charity whispered as they walked into the dining area.

  But Cathy wasn’t listening. Her mind was wildly going over possibilities. Could Robby Crockett have called the police? What if April had tried to call after they left and, finding no one there, had contacted the cops?

  Somehow that had never occurred to her. Could they be technically guilty of kidnapping? After all, they had taken children they had no right to and whisked them off in the night. She wrapped her arms around herself, chilled to the bone.

  The restaurant was almost empty. The officer stopped at a corner booth. Barnaby sat there all alone, his face expressionless.

  “I’ve got the others in the room in back,” Charity whispered to Cathy. “They’re playing house with the babies. Sally’s watching them.”

  Confused, Cathy went forward and gave her son a hug. Turning on the officer, she felt angry, defensive. Now that one of her children was involved, she became almost as confrontational as Scott had been in the beginning.

  “What is this all about?” she demanded.

  The policeman nodded toward Barnaby. “He tells me he and the other kids are being kidnapped by this here Scott Carrington.” He stared at Cathy, hard, as though to force the truth out of her with mind control. “What do you have to say to that?”

  It took a moment for the facts to register. Barnaby had done this? Her own sweet son? She stared at him, aghast, then looked at Scott. His face was hard, cold, his eyes resigned, but angry. He was not in the least amused.

  “Oh no, Officer.” She laughed, but it took a great deal of effort. “No, that’s not it at all.” She turned back to her son. “Barnaby, how could you? I explained what we were doing. Didn’t you understand?”

  The boy’s face didn’t change, and he didn’t say a word. He obviously understood perfectly well, but had his own reasons.

  Scott took her hand. “Let’s talk to the officer over here, Cathy,” he suggested, nodding toward the opposite corner of the room.

  They went out of Barnaby’s earshot and Scott quickly explained the basic circumstances of their trip—minus the information that the babies’ mother was missing.

  “The boy’s father left his mother over a year ago,” he went on, squeezing Cathy’s hand in apology. “Barnaby has been pretty upset about it, I think. He doesn’t like to think of me in his mother’s life.”

  Cathy glanced back at her son, full of remorse. She hadn’t been paying enough attention, had she? Of course he was upset. He remembered Joey so well. And a boy his age needed a father so badly. But that sort of deprivation was hard to deal with when there was no solution in sight. So she tended to ignore it and hope it would go away. Obviously, that wasn’t working.

  She looked up to find Scott speaking to her. “Don’t you think he probably did this to punish me for taking you off just now?” he asked.

  She nodded, her huge eyes sad. “I’m sure of it.” She turned to the policeman. “Officer, we’re not kidnapping anyone, believe me. We’re merely taking the babies to their mother in Lake Tahoe.”

  He stared at her for a long moment and she’d almost decided he was going to believe her when he said gruffly, “I’d like the mother’s name and address, please.”

  Scott and Cathy exchanged glances. “Her name is April Meadows,” Cathy said quickly, her heart sinking. What now? If they told him they didn’t have an address for her, he would go back to his suspicions again.

  “And her address,” Scott was saying, “is the Wild Horses Casino, Lake Tahoe, Nevada.”

  Cathy’s heart was beating hard. How she hoped that address was correct!

  The officer wrote slowly and carefully, frowning as he jotted down the information. Cathy held her breath. Would he accept Scott’s information?

  Finally he looked up and nodded. “Well, your story sounds plausible,” he said. “And Charity vouches for you. So I guess we can leave it at that today.” He frowned harder, as though he wanted to make sure they didn’t start celebrating too soon. “But I do want to warn you, if any of this data you’ve given me turns out to be false, I’ll have to have you detained for further questioning. Do you understand?”

  They nodded solemnly. The policeman tipped his hat and left the restaurant, sauntering slowly, the majesty of his power surely weighing heavy on his wide shoulders.

  Scott limited his relief to a sparkle in his eyes when he gave Cathy a wink. “Go talk to your son,” he told her. “I’ll get the others ready.”

  But Barnaby wasn’t talking.

  Cathy tried, but the more she talked, the more his lower lip protruded. Finally she put her arms around him and held him tight.

  “You know I love you,” she said to her oldest son. “And your daddy loves you, too. He just can’t be a part of our lives anymore. He can’t live our way.” She kissed his cheek. “But we’ll be okay, you and me and Beth and Beanie. I won’t ever, ever leave you. You know that, don’t you?”

  He turned and looked into her eyes, his gaze furtive, as tho
ugh trying to see if she were telling the truth. Then he looked away again, his face as expressionless as ever.

  “Ready to get back on the road?” It was Scott.

  “We’re ready.” She let Barnaby go on ahead and put a hand on Scott’s arm. “I’m sorry about what Barnaby did. I’m sure he didn’t realize—“

  Scott pressed his fingers to the center of her back to guide her out the door. His mouth was set in a grim line.

  “Kids!” was all he said, but he said it through clenched teeth.

  She swallowed hard. There wasn’t much point in hoping any longer, was there? It had been a foolish dream anyway. The children were bound to do something outrageous or annoying just about every day.

  If she had to live in fear of one of them getting into some sort of scrape, her life would become a living hell. She didn’t need that. No. Things were better being left just the way they already were.

  She stopped to thank Charity, who hugged her and whispered, “Good luck!” in her ear. Cathy looked at her, sure that she knew everything, and suddenly tears were welling in her eyes.

  “Thanks,” she said back. “But I may be beyond where luck can help me.”

  Squaring her shoulders, she headed out the door, the last to leave. At the corner of the building, something made her look back, and as she did, she caught sight of something in the street. It was long. It was white. It had longhorns as a hood ornament. There was Robby Crockett, and he was cruising past, looking, no doubt, for them.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  The Teddy Bears Picnic

  There was a new urgency to their drive north now. There was no margin left for error, much less time for dawdling.

  “If we’d left just two minutes sooner,” Cathy kept repeating, “we would have met him coming in toward Mammoth. He would have seen us. I can’t believe how close we came.”

  “Let’s just hope he stays in town for a long lunch,” Scott returned. “Otherwise, we’re still in big trouble.”

  “How did he know to come this way? How could he have guessed?”

  Scott shrugged. “Maybe he got a call from April.” He grimaced. “That would be the best scenario. Just as likely, he knows her well enough to make an educated guess, just like we did.” He moved restlessly behind the wheel. “I hope we find her before he does.”

  She glanced sideways at him, trying to study him without being obvious. She could hardly believe this was the same man she’d made love with only an hour before.

  His face was hard, unyielding, and when he looked at her his eyes were as unrevealing as tinted glass. There was something going on inside him. She could sense it. Emotions were tugging him in contrary directions. She had a feeling the best thing she could do was lie low until his internal war was over.

  Half an hour later, the babies began to fuss. She readied herself to climb over the seat and take care of them when Scott stopped her, his hand on her shoulder.

  “Send Barnaby up here next to me,” he said evenly.

  Cathy looked at him, biting her lip. “You won’t... hurt him?”

  He stared at her, anger glimmering in his eyes. “No, Cathy,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll contain myself, just this once.”

  Of course he wouldn’t hurt Barnaby. She wished she’d never said it. Still, he was angry about what had happened at the restaurant. After she’d made the adjustments, she sat in the back with the babies, her attention focused on the front seat, where Scott and Barnaby rode silently, side by side. As far as she could see, they exchanged a look now and then. But hardly a word was spoken.

  Half her attention was on the road behind them, and she noticed Scott glancing in the rearview mirror a lot, as well. What would happen if Robby Crockett caught up with them? She didn’t know and she hoped she wouldn’t find out.

  It was late afternoon when they began the long climb up into the mountains and Lake Tahoe. The sun slanted through the pines into their eyes. And then the lake was before them, blue and gorgeous.

  They found the Wild Horses Casino and Hotel with little trouble. Its gaudy neon lights forming huge, raging stallions lit up the sky, even in daylight, beckoning all comers.

  “Pull into the ten-minute zone,” Cathy said optimistically. “I’ll run in and see if she’s registered here.’’

  She kept her fingers crossed as she passed through the huge room full of chrome slot machines and green felt tables. Heading for the registration desk, she started to feel excited. If April were listed, and here, their troubles would be over.

  “April Meadows?” The bored-looking clerk flipped: through the registration book. “Sorry. We have no one here by that name.”

  “Please,” Cathy put her hand out to hold the page open on the dates of the last weekend. “Could I look?” She smiled her sweetest smile and the young man frowned, but grudgingly shoved the book toward her.

  “I’m not supposed to do this,” he told her in a low voice. “Hurry up. If my boss sees you...”

  She hurried up. There was no April, no signature that looked familiar. “Thank you.” Heart sinking, she pushed the book back to the clerk and turned to start away.

  “Oh!” She turned back. “She might work here. Are you sure you don’t recognize the name?”

  He shook his head and pointed toward the end of the hall. “Try Personnel.”

  “Thank you.” She hurried to the door and found it slightly ajar. “Hello?” she said as she pushed it open.

  Inside the little office she found two pretty, heavily made-up young women working at typewriters. They looked up expectantly as she entered.

  “Hi.” Her best smile got a workout again. “I’m looking for a friend. Her name is April Meadows. I thought she might be working here. Can you help me?”

  “April Meadows?” one young woman repeated, shaking her head. The other pulled out a roster and ran her finger down it before saying, “Nope. Sorry. No April Meadows works here.”

  Cathy’s gaze was riveted to the roster. She wasn’t sure just why, but she had a feeling— “Could I take a look at that list?”

  The book was quickly pressed to the woman’s chest. “No,” she said sharply. “That’s illegal. You’re not allowed to see it.”

  Cathy looked from one to the other. Something about their attitude, something in their eyes... Suddenly she knew they’d heard the name April Meadows before. They were holding out on her. Frustration welled inside her.

  “Listen,” she said, leaning forward earnestly. “I have to talk to April. It’s so important. Can’t you please tell me where she is?”

  They both shook their heads, their faces hostile.

  “Sorry,” said one. “Like I said, we don’t know her.”

  Cathy sighed, straightening. She would have to come back later and try again. She turned to go, then looked back.

  “Well, if you do happen to run into her, will you tell her Cathy Feenstra is here? And she’s got the babies.” Their faces didn’t change. With a shrug and a rueful smile, she left.

  The afternoon was quickly turning into evening. Everyone was tired. Tempers were wearing thin. They’d tried four motels. No one would accept two adults with six children.

  “There are families who really do have six children,” Cathy fumed as they rode down the street, searching for yet another motel to try. “What do they do when they go on vacations?”

  “They call ahead for reservations,” Scott said caustically. “And then they lie.”

  Cathy turned to look at him. He’d been growing more and more morose. She wished she knew what she could do to fix whatever was wrong.

  Was it her? Or even more likely, the many, many children that came attached to her? She wasn’t sure, but she wanted to find a place to stay quickly. At least then he would be able to rest.

  “Why don’t we try that, then?” she suggested. “Stop at a phone booth and I’ll call motels. That way they won’t be able to see how many children we have with us.”

  He was shaking his head. “I know what we have
to do,” he said wearily. “We should have done it from the first.”

  He pulled into a side street and turned the van around and started back the way they’d come. “I told you I have family up in this neck of the woods. I didn’t tell you I have a sister right here in Tahoe. She and her husband run a motel. They’ll give us a room.”

  “That’s great.” She left the question unspoken— why hadn’t he mentioned it sooner?

  But he answered anyway. “I was hoping to get through this without letting my family know I was up here.” His grin was just this side of apologetic. “That was silly, of course. Margy will adore the kids. She’s got about five of her own.”

  He pulled up before a tidy little motel of about thirty units. Though modest, it was clean and brightly painted. He turned the engine off and sat staring at the office.

  “How long has it been since you last saw her?” Cathy asked.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since the last time I left. But she’s kept in touch. She’s the only one who writes to me. Every Christmas.”

  Cathy kept very still, letting him work out his emotions by himself. She understood now a little more of his anger, his turmoil. She’d put him in a position where he had to face things he’d managed to ignore for years. Things he would just as soon forget—that on top of too many babies. No wonder he was gloomy.

  He started to unbuckle his seat belt.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?” she asked.

  He flashed her a quick smile, then leaned over and touched her lips softly with his index finger.

  “Thanks,” he said. “But this is something I’d better face by myself.”

  She watched him walk to the door of the office and go in. Sighing, she turned back to her children. Beth was playing “Here Comes the Bee” with Beanie. Barnaby was staring out the window. The three babies were squirming, getting ready to fuss again. She hoped Scott had a nice reunion with his sister. She also hoped they would all get a room for the night. She was ready to drop.