Baby’s Watch

by Justine Davis

  His government-issue cell phone rang. He reached for it automatically, then stopped. That was one advantage to working out here in the vast expanse of empty space; he could always claim he hadn’t gotten the call due to lack of signal. He supposed they had ways to verify that, but unless he abused the excuse, he doubted it was worth it to them. And he usually called them back before too much time had passed.

  It was a silly, perhaps childish game, but it gave him the illusion of some kind of control, and right now he would take what little he could get. He didn’t want to tell them about what had happened at the ranch.

  He wasn’t even sure why, if he was afraid they’d chew him out for violating what they called protocol, stepping out of his undercover role and being seen, or if he just wanted to keep it to himself. It almost felt as if telling anyone would violate a promise he hadn’t even made, to a courageous woman and a newborn he’d helped bring into the world.

  And that made less sense than anything, he thought as he checked the truck’s odometer and began scanning for the small building he’d been told to look for.

  When he spotted the ramshackle shed, he thought he must be wrong; this wasn’t a building, it was a lumber pile in the making. Alcazar wouldn’t hang out here. But then, would the man trust him enough to let him know where he really hung out? Ryder knew if he were in Alcazar’s position, he would trust no one.

  Just as she trusted no one, he thought, the image of that dark-eyed beauty snapping vividly into his mind once more.

  Annoyed at himself, he shoved the image away, forcing himself to concentrate. Hadn’t it been hammered into him during his weeks of training at that super-secret facility, that lack of focus could be fatal?

  So focus, he ordered himself silently.

  As he drove up to the tumbledown shack, he spotted a gleam of silver from behind it, the bumper of another car. So it was the right place, he thought, unable to imagine any other reason for a car to be all the way out here.

  And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the truck was surrounded by armed men. Four of them, automatic pistols at the ready, and all trained on him. His gut knotted, but he kept his hands on the steering wheel in plain sight. The last thing he wanted was to give them an excuse to shoot. And with these guys it wouldn’t take much.

  The other vehicle was, absurdly, a stretch limo. But then Ryder remembered something he’d heard long ago, before he’d been tossed in prison—that Alcazar liked to conduct his meetings in what he called his “mobile office.” This had to be it.

  The biggest of the welcoming committee gestured him toward the limo. One of the others opened the passenger side rear door. When he didn’t move quickly enough to please the third man, he got a jab with the barrel of the weapon he held.

  For a split second, Ryder considered taking the man’s head off. Only knowing it would be the last thing he’d ever do stopped him, at least long enough to rein in his temper.

  He climbed into the back of the limo.

  “Wise choice,” said a voice from the far corner.

  Ryder didn’t pretend not to understand. “Patience is one of my new virtues,” he said, but added with a glance back at the man who’d shoved him, “along with a very long memory.”

  Laughter, rough but tinged with genuine amusement, echoed in the car. Ryder could see Alcazar now, dressed to perfection in a light gray suit and a hat that was a cross between Clay’s white Stetson and something a pimp on the streets of Dallas would wear.

  “Duane is a bit…energetic, but he’s also useful.”

  “I’m sure. For now.” That earned him a jab with the deadly weapon. Ryder merely glanced at it. “I prefer an old-fashioned revolver, myself. It never jams, so you never need to stall, pretending to negotiate with a rattlesnake.”

  The man being discussed muttered something under his breath, which got him a sharp rebuke from the man in the hat. At further orders, the armed men retreated, shutting the limo’s door after them.

  “Carbone in Laredo tells me I can trust you.”

  “He did. It paid off for him.”

  “So he says.”

  Ryder said nothing more. He learned never to volunteer more information than was asked for. Besides, he had little else to say on the subject. He wasn’t about to let Alcazar know that the man whose word he seemed to value was one of theirs, a government agent going into his third year of undercover work along the border.

  The silence stretched out until finally Alcazar said, “You’re the silent type, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a salesman,” Ryder said with a shrug. “Either you trust me or you don’t; you have work for me or you don’t. You’re the boss; you decide.”

  The laughter came again, and this time it was appreciative. “Would that all of my men had that view.”

  Ryder shrugged again, this time saying nothing.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Grady,” Alcazar said.

  Ryder lifted a brow, but said nothing. He was used to the name. He’d spent the early years of his life with it, the name of the mother who had never told them who their real father was, the father who had so little interest in them that they’d never laid eyes on him since before Georgie was born. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the name Colton in Texas—or anywhere else these days—would draw more attention than he wanted.

  He could just hear Alcazar’s reaction if he explained, “Hey, yeah, my bio-dad’s brother is that Colton, the one who’s probably going to be president. But don’t worry, I’m still an outlaw….”

  “Why would you want to get involved again in the very thing that got you time as a guest of the federal government?” Alcazar asked.

  “Because I wasn’t involved in it before, and I got hung for it anyway.”

  He knew the answer was flip, even absurd, but he also knew Alcazar was reputed to have a slightly warped sense of humor. Ryder was gambling on that.

  His gamble paid off with the biggest laugh yet. “Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, is that it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “This would be different.”

  “Different?”

  “The package to be transported would be…smaller.”

  Ryder’s breath stopped, his brain screaming that this was it, but he masked his reaction.

  “Easier,” he said neutrally.

  “Not necessarily.”

  Ryder pretended to consider this, then shrugged. “At least with you I know what I’m getting into.”

  “Kissing ass, Mr. Grady?”

  “No. Just didn’t like being a useful idiot.”

  There was a moment of silence before a rather bemused, “Well, well…”

  Ryder said nothing, just waited. That had been close enough, he wasn’t about to risk saying anything that might make Alcazar too curious about just who exactly he was.

  “I may have something for you. Be ready. Available.”

  He stopped, as if he expected questions. Ryder asked none. After a moment Alcazar nodded in approval.

  “Go. I’ll be in touch.”

  Ryder nodded, took the words as dismissal, and moved toward the door. Then he stopped, glancing back.

  “May I punch Mr. Energetic?”

  A final laugh. “I would prefer that you didn’t.”

  Ryder shrugged. “You’re the boss,” he said again.

  “Yes,” Alcazar said. “I am.”

  Ryder left it at that. He wasn’t about to rock the boat anymore. Not when he apparently had finally broken through; a smaller package could only mean one thing.

  A baby.

  He was in.

  Chapter 6

  Ana yawned as she put Maria back to bed. It was only ten o’clock, but she was ready for bed herself. Her little girl seemed to have a voracious appetite, demanding to be fed every two or three hours round the clock. She’d read that this would ease as the baby grew, but for right now it was exhausting.

  A light from the hallway glowed under her closed bedroom door. Je
wel again? Ana wondered. Did the woman never sleep? She had been so concerned about Ana. After recovering from the shock of finding that the baby had arrived during her absence, Jewel insisted that Ana see a doctor, then rest as much as she could for the next few days. Yet she herself continued her string of sleepless nights.

  Now that Ana had her own reason for restless nights and broken sleep, she was even more amazed that Jewel had managed to keep going, suffering seemingly endless insomnia. She did not think Jewel had slept an entire night since she herself had been here, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

  And more than once this week when she had been up for a middle-of-the-night feeding with Maria, she had heard Jewel cry out in the darkness. The first time, she had run to her assistance, afraid something had happened. But Jewel had assured her it had only been a bad dream. Ana ached for her new friend, trying to imagine what it must be like for sleep to be so hard to come by, and then, when at last it did, for it to be so haunted by horrible dreams.

  She hoped Maria’s vocal demands to be fed in the night weren’t further disturbing the already-weary Jewel. But the woman never failed to gush over Maria whenever she saw her, and always offered to take her for a while if Ana needed to rest, or do something else. It was such a relief to have someone she truly trusted at hand, yet Ana took care not to overburden the woman who was clearly already carrying a heavy load.

  Ana opened her door now, and made her way down the hallway toward the kitchen where the light was. Jewel had been more than kind and generous to her, and she would do whatever she could to help.

  She stopped just short of the kitchen doorway when she heard voices. Jewel’s and a man’s. She leaned forward just enough to see that the visitor was the handsome deputy, Adam Rawlings. And that he was holding Jewel in a comforting embrace.

  Ana backed up quickly, not wanting to intrude on what seemed like a tender moment. She had guessed the first time she had seen them together that the deputy was interested in Jewel—it was hard to miss; the man watched her like a hungry cat. But she also knew that Jewel was not interested, not really. She had told Ana that Adam had been very kind, but that she was not ready.

  Ana assumed that Jewel’s hesitation was because of her old relationship, and had wondered if it ever got any better, if any woman could truly hope to find a man who would not leave or let her down in the end.

  A picture popped into her mind, of a tall, dark stranger, with piercing eyes and a dangerous edge. She had sensed the danger about him, although his spine-tingling grin when Maria had let out her first squall had momentarily wiped out all Ana’s concerns.

  And when the time had come, when her little girl had arrived, he had handled her with exquisite care, with trembling hands and a look of utter awe that had somehow reassured Ana even more.

  With an effort that surprised her, she pushed the vivid image out of her mind. She took care with her footsteps as she turned to go. She did not want either Jewel or Deputy Rawlings to know she’d nearly walked in on them.

  And then she heard Jewel say three words that stopped her in her tracks.

  “…lost my baby.”

  She whirled back, her heart hammering in her chest. Jewel had lost a baby. Once again, Ana’s sympathies went out to the woman. She knew what it was like to lose a child. To have lost both her child and her fiancé at the same time, in a tragic accident, was something Ana could not begin to imagine. Her own loss, of a man not worth having, seemed petty in comparison. Jewel had clearly loved her Andrew, having found him after a long, confusing time in her life.

  And the baby…

  “So you can see,” Jewel told the deputy, who was patting her gently. The man clearly cared for Jewel, his affection was obvious. “I know what Ana is afraid of. I know what it means to lose a baby.”

  Adam Rawlings murmured something Ana could not hear, but she was certain they were words of comfort, consolation. For a selfish moment she hoped that he was saying they were close to cracking the smuggling ring, for only then could she breathe easy.

  She might be selfish, but she was also thinking of Jewel. When it became clear the topic of the baby-smugglers was not going any further, she retreated to her room and carefully, silently closed the door.

  She sat on the edge of her bed, glancing over at the crib now set up just a few feet away. Had she lost a baby so tragically, she was not sure she could bear having another woman’s under her roof. Yet Jewel had never given any indication that Ana and Maria were anything less than welcome here at Hopechest. Ana ached anew for her friend.

  And marveled anew at her brave spirit.

  Perhaps there truly were more good people than bad in the world.

  And she could not seem to stop herself from wondering which category her rescuer, and Maria’s, fell into.

  “I’m still on the ranch,” Ryder said into the phone. “I think I’m in, and that there’s going to be a move soon, but I don’t want to take a chance on missing something else.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Ryder’s mouth quirked; that was something he hadn’t often been accused of in his life. He’d reported in on the approach from Alcazar, which had pleased his handlers, even Furnell, although he hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving Ryder a lecture on how critical it was that he not do anything to blow this now.

  Ya think? Ryder had muttered silently, but kept the sarcasm to himself.

  He ended the call and closed the phone. They’d accepted his explanation of why he was still here easily enough.

  Maybe it was even partly true.

  He lifted the high-powered binoculars to his eyes, scanning the area around the Hopechest building. It sat in the most distant corner of what had been Bar None land, a piece they’d never been able to use much. Clay had often talked about selling it, although Ryder hadn’t paid much attention to such things; he’d sworn early on never to be owned by duty the way his brother was.

  And look where that got you, Ryder thought as he turned the binoculars back toward the adobe-and-tile ranch house.

  His heart leapt up into his throat, stopping his breath.

  There she was.

  She had the baby in her arms, wrapped in a pinkish-looking blanket. Very girly, Ryder thought. For a beautiful little girl.

  His own thoughts startled him. Again. It was just a baby. One of those squirmy, noisy, red-faced, funny-looking creatures he’d never been comfortable around. The ones who messed, spit up, drooled and woke you at all hours of the night.

  Okay, so this was different. This was the only baby he’d ever been this close to. Certainly the only one he’d ever helped bring into the world. It had been an odd feeling, a new one. But he hadn’t expected it to last, hadn’t expected to feel much more than the lingering curiosity, speculation and mild affection he’d had for the sorrel colt he’d once helped deliver, or Daisy’s pups that time.

  But this was different.

  And he wasn’t at all sure what it was.

  Maybe it was that he’d never really felt completely connected to another person before. He wasn’t capable of that kind of feeling, hadn’t even really missed the closeness of family, had instead felt as if he’d escaped when he’d cut all ties with them. He felt the occasional jab of wistfulness for the days when Georgie had tagged after him, but she’d clearly grown up and moved on, changed forever by the birth of her daughter.

  And that scary thought brought him jolting back full circle as he watched the woman he’d shared those most intimate of moments with. She cuddled the tiny bundle in her arms. She’d been so incredibly courageous, determined to protect her baby even while doubled over in the agony of labor. She’d fought hard, without the help of drugs, medical equipment, or experienced hands.

  She’d had only his hands, and had taken their help only reluctantly.

  That was a lucky baby, he thought. And she could do a lot worse than try to grow up like her firebrand of a mother.

  He wondered, not for the first time, where the baby’s f
ather was. He could understand how the news of a baby would panic a guy, but how the hell could a man walk away from a woman like that?

  Maybe he’s like you¸ Ryder thought grimly.

  He knew he wasn’t capable of being in love. He’d never even been close, wasn’t sure he even knew what it meant. He knew love existed, he’d seen it in others, but for himself it was an abstract and romantic notion and he’d dismissed the possibility early on. He’d had his share of women—okay, maybe more than his share—but he’d never once found one he couldn’t walk away from without a backward glance.

  And he hadn’t now, he told himself firmly. Certainly not a woman he’d been with for all of a few hours in the darkness—not that he hadn’t done that before, too, but definitely not like this—and whose name he didn’t even know.

  But sitting here now, looking down at her, seeing her with the baby who’d slipped into his hands, he couldn’t deny that he felt…something. A tightness in his chest, a sort of yearning.

  He let out a short, sharp bark of laughter at the ridiculous word as it formed in his mind.

  Yearning.

  Yeah, right. Him, Ryder Grady Colton. Really a yearning sort of guy.

  Not that it would matter if it were true. He was a long, long way from getting clear of the mess he’d gotten himself into, and until he finished this job and got that free pass and expunged record, he had no business doing anything but focusing on the job he had to do.

  The thought that a baby that wasn’t even his could change him forever, the way it had changed his sister, was the most absurd thought of all.

  Chapter 7

  “You’re sure you wouldn’t like to come? I’d love for you to meet Tamara.”

  Ana shook her head and smiled at Jewel. “Perhaps in a few days. I am still very nervous about Maria.”

  She regretted causing the shadow that flickered in Jewel’s eyes. But the woman nodded in understanding.

  “Better to be safe,” she said. “That baby-stealing ring is still operating, and the fewer people who know about Maria the better, until it’s broken up. Some of Tamara’s old CSI colleagues are at the ranch now, looking for clues.”