The Non-Commissioned Baby

by Maureen Child

  Leaning over the edge of the bathtub, Laura smiled down at the chubby little face turned up at her. Miranda’s two small hands clutched a bright yellow rubber duck that squeaked if the little girl managed to squeeze it hard enough.

  The baby, chattering happily in a language all her own, suddenly smashed the duck down into the water, splashing Laura’s face and chest.

  “Well, thank you,” she said, swiping one hand across her eyes, then pushing wet hair off her forehead.

  Miranda laughed, tipping her little head back and closing her eyes tightly with delight. Then, smacking her open palms against the surface of the water, she watched the duck rock in the resulting waves.

  “Having fun?” A deep voice from right behind her startled Laura, and she gasped aloud.

  “You scared me,” she snapped, glaring at him over one shoulder.

  “Sorry.” He leaned against the doorjamb and looked down at the two of them. “Thought you heard me come in.”

  “Not likely,” Laura told him, jerking her head toward the baby.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “She is a little loud, isn’t she?” Then his gaze settled on the dampness on Laura’s shirt and the slicked-back hair on top of her head. “Thought you were supposed to be bathing her, not the other way around.”

  God, he looked great, Laura thought before her good sense could prevent it If the big-name clothing designers could just see him, they’d hustle out a spring line of camouflage wear. She inhaled slowly, deeply, and reminded herself that she no longer noticed how good-looking a man was. That was something she put behind her years ago.

  Sure. So why was her pulse racing as though she’d just completed a marathon? Oh, she needed some distance between herself and the captain.

  “As long as you’re home early,” she said, coming up on her knees, “you can finish bathing the baby while I fix something for dinner.”

  He straightened up and stiffened like he’d been shot. Against the dark greens and browns of his uniform, his face paled. His gaze shot from her to the baby and back again.

  “No way,” he declared, holding one hand up, palm out. “Uh-uh. The deal was you take care of the baby.”

  If she wasn’t in such a hurry to get away from him, this whole thing might have been laughable. “I also said I wouldn’t be the cook around here, either,” she reminded him. “But who has been doing the lion’s share of that lately?”

  He frowned at her. “I didn’t ask you to cook for me.”

  “That’s not the point,” she said, and spared a glance for Miranda. The little girl was still happily busy with her duck. “The point is, now that you’re here, we can share some of the chores.”

  “Fine,” he said, and half turned to leave. “I’ll cook.”

  “Lord, no!” she snapped, remembering the salmon steak he had broiled two nights before. If the poor fish had been as tough when it was alive, it would have been able to pull the fisherman who caught it into the ocean and beat the heck out of him with its fins.

  “Come on, Marine.” She said it slowly, sarcastically, making sure he heard her mentally throwing down the gauntlet. “You can handle a baby for a few minutes, can’t you?”

  Hell, Jeff thought. He could hardly handle being in the same room with Laura! Her cheeks were flushed with the warm, moist air in the bathroom, tendrils of brown hair curled softly around her face and her eyes looked dewy, despite the spark of challenge she was shooting at him.

  His insides twisted with an unexpected pang. Obviously, he thought in disgust, his attraction for her hadn’t weakened any, despite his hopes.

  Jeez, only a week ago, he was a perfectly content man. His life and career were running smoothly. Now, everything around him was in turmoil.

  All because of one small person.

  Jeff let his gaze slide from Laura’s flushed cheeks to the little girl sitting in the tub. Bubbles drifted past the sturdy, chubby body, and as they did, Miranda tried to catch them with quick, clumsy movements. Something inside him shifted as he watched the child.

  He’d done his best to keep a safe distance between him and the tiny interloper. But no matter where he went in his apartment, evidence of her presence was already there. Her bottles, blankets and toys were strewn across the once painfully neat place.

  He no longer walked barefoot through his house anymore, since the night his arch slammed down on the straight edge of a pacifier. He didn’t sleep late on his days off, and even staying up late was out of the question because he couldn’t play his stereo at the deafening levels he preferred.

  One small scrap of humanity had completely altered his life.

  Hell, Mrs. Butler had smiled at him!

  At that moment, Miranda looked up at him and gave him a wide, sloppy grin. Twin dimples deepened her fat cheeks. Blue eyes sparkled with life and laughter. An infectious, rolling giggle shot from her throat, and he found himself reluctantly returning that silly smile.

  Something warm and soft and completely alien to him settled in his chest. He didn’t want to like it. He tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend he didn’t feel a thing when he looked at that baby.

  But the bottom line was, she was reaching him as no other female ever had.

  And that scared the hell out of him.

  “Well?” Laura asked, drawing him back from his terrifying thoughts. “Are you going to take over or not?”

  He could do this, he told himself. He was a captain in the United States Marine Corps. He could damn well bathe a six-month-old infant. In his career, he had survived enemy gunfire, eager new recruits and overbearing officers.

  One little girl was not going to defeat him.

  “Okay,” he said, stepping into the small room. “I’ll do it.”

  “Kneel down here,” Laura told him, scooting over a bit.

  He didn’t particularly want to be that close to Laura at the moment, either. If Miranda tugged at his heartstrings, Laura touched him on a much deeper, more basic level. Yet she managed to scare him every bit as badly as the baby did.

  “Wouldn’t this be easier if you moved out of the way first?” he asked shortly.

  She shot him a look usually reserved for a dog who’d made a mess on the carpet. “Never leave a baby alone in a bathtub.”

  “She’s not alone,” he protested even as he surrendered and kneeled down beside Laura. “I’m right here.”

  “Anything can happen,” she told him, her features serious, her gaze lancing into his. “In a matter of seconds, an untended baby can drown in just a couple of inches of water.”

  “For God’s sake,” he said harshly, “I’m not going to toss her into a lake and tell her to swim for it.”

  Laura laid one hand on his. A wild electrical current seemed to spring into life between them. He felt a sharp, jagged blast of heat rocket up his arm and burst in his chest like a mortar shell.

  He knew being close to her was a bad idea.

  She must have felt it, too, because she pulled back instantly. When she spoke again, her voice shook a bit.

  He didn’t blame her. He felt a little shaky himself.

  “I mean it, Jeff. Don’t take your eyes off of her for an instant.”

  This is what he got for hesitating when she asked him to take over. Now Laura probably figured that he was too incompetent to wash a child.

  “I think I can handle the responsibility,” he assured her, the words dripping with a sarcasm she apparently didn’t notice.

  “I’ll check on you in a minute.”

  “That’s not necessary,” he said as she stood up and moved around him.

  “It’s no trouble,” she told him. “I’ll just go throw the steaks on the broiler. If you need help—”

  “When people need help,” he interrupted, reaching down into the tub for the rubber duck, “they usually send for the Marines.”

  Unimpressed, she retorted, “Yeah? Well, then who do you guys call for help?”

  Slanting her a long look over his shoulder, he said prou
dly, “There’s only one force stronger than us.”

  She paused in the doorway, obviously curious. “Who’s that?”

  “There’s the U.S. Marines...and then there’s God.”

  Five

  Halfway through the bath, Jeff was silently calling on that higher power in desperation.

  “C’mon, Miranda,�� he said, and winced at the pleading note in his voice. “If you don’t sit still, we can’t get the job done.”

  She laughed at him and slithered out of his grasp like a greased piglet.

  Jeff reached for her and tried his Marine voice. Stiff, stern, demanding attention. “All right, recruit. Straighten up.”

  She flipped onto her tummy and started crawling across the floor of the tub. Exasperated, Jeff lunged for her. After he had her, though, he turned her around to face him, and she slapped both of his cheeks with bubble-covered hands. He blew the soapy water off his lips and managed to close his eyes in time to avoid the tidal wave of water she kicked at him.

  Bubbles cascaded down his face as the wet soaked into the front of his cammies. His knees slid on the bathroom rug, and his chest slammed into the edge of the tub. His grip on the baby didn’t loosen, though. Grumbling under his breath, he plopped her down again and grabbed a neatly folded washcloth.

  “You and I have to come to an understanding, kiddo,” he said as he ran the soaped cloth over first one arm, then the other.

  She kicked her legs in the water, splashing him again.

  He sighed, resigned now to the cold, clinging material of his uniform. Reaching for one foot, he rubbed the cloth over her pink skin. “You’ve pretty much been calling the shots around here, you know?”

  She giggled deep in her throat.

  He reached for the other foot. “But if you’re going to be staying here—” he heard that statement come out of his mouth and quickly amended it “—for a while, you’ve got to understand that you’re the private and I’m the captain.”

  She giggled again and tried to pull her foot free. He held on.

  “We do things my way in this outfit,” he went on, rubbing the cloth over her arch again just so he could hear that giggle.

  She didn’t disappoint him. Then she leaned over, her little fingers tugging and pulling at his hands.

  “Ticklish, huh?” he asked with a smile.

  The baby scooted around on her bottom, flashing him another grin.

  He dropped the washcloth into the soapy water and lifted her, his hands beneath her fat little arms.

  She clapped her hands and kicked her feet, but he had taken the precaution of lifting her high enough that she couldn’t soak him again.

  “We did it,” he said. “Got through the bath with no problems. See? All you have to do is remember who’s in charge around here and we’ll get along fine.”

  As if in answer, he heard the distinct sound of water trickling into water.

  Looking at Miranda through wary eyes, he saw her self-satisfied smile and knew instantly what she’d done.

  “Oh, man...” he said on a defeated sigh.

  The town park was crowded on Saturdays.

  Sunshine poured from a sky so blue it almost hurt to look at it. A few puffs of white clouds danced in the breeze that lifted kites high over the treetops.

  Keeping a close eye on Miranda, Laura sat on the quilt Jeff had spread out on the grass beneath an ancient oak tree and watched the parade of people whirl by.

  Bicyclists in helmets, pads and skintight suits raced along the path winding through the park, darting around slower-paced strollers pushed by proud fathers and tired-looking mothers. A few in-line skaters roared past her, their wheels grinding on the pavement with a soft whirr. Off to one side, two boys were playing catch with their father, and in the sand-filled playground to the left of her, smaller children were gathered. Toddlers laughed as they scrambled over concrete statues of dinosaurs and bounced on fiberglass ponies mounted on stiff springs.

  Laura sighed and smiled. It had been a lovely afternoon, she thought lazily. She’d been surprised but touched when Jeff had suggested a picnic. Maybe he was getting used to the idea of having a baby in his life. She glanced at the little girl scooting across the blanket with determined, crablike movements.

  Laura leaned forward, scooped her up and sat her down again, this time safely trapping the baby between her legs.

  Over the past few days, Jeff hadn’t again mentioned finding a replacement guardian for Miranda, and Laura was sure that was a good sign. Given enough time, the sweet baby would be able to worm her way into even an ogre’s heart.

  And Jeff Ryan was no ogre.

  Despite what he seemed to think.

  Miranda watched the children playing. Her little hands clapping, she made another stab at an escape, but was easily bought off with a teething biscuit.

  Tired, Laura looked off toward the parking lot, where she could just see Jeff closing up the car again and starting back toward them, Miranda’s sweater in his hand.

  Honestly, she thought. The man looked good enough to be illegal. Even from a distance, she could see how well his faded, threadbare Levi’s fit his long legs. And the red polo shirt he wore made his blond hair seem lighter, while at the same time giving his tan a deeper, warmer tone.

  And here she sat, huddled under a tree, because the slightest amount of sunshine made her look like a boiled lobster.

  Her heartbeat stuttered into high gear. Silently groaning, Laura tried to ignore what had become an all too familiar sensation lately. Two weeks, she thought. Two weeks with Jeff and Miranda and she was a goner. Oh, she’d been prepared to fall in love with the baby. She never had been able to resist one. But Jeff was another matter entirely.

  She’d sworn off love a long time ago. And in all the years since, she had never once been tempted to fall off the wagon.

  Until now.

  As he came closer, Laura studied him, trying to ignore her quickened heartbeat and the rush of adrenaline. What was it about him that created such a wild tangle of emotions?

  He smiled, and lifted one hand in greeting just as a boy on a skateboard sped past him. Laura laughed shortly as Jeff did a fancy two-step to avoid falling. The expression on his face was priceless.

  Shaking his head, he stepped off the path onto the grass and headed straight for her.

  It was as if a steel band had tightened around her chest. Lord help her. If she hadn’t already given up on love, Jeff Ryan would definitely be a man to watch out for.

  Jeff studied her as he approached. In a park full of women wearing shorts and clingy T-shirts, why was he so completely taken with a woman dressed in baggy jeans and a T-shirt that would have been big on him? Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck, and a few wisps of shorter hair flew about her cheeks.

  Their gazes locked, and as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, he noticed that she suddenly looked kind of sick. He sat down beside her in the shade, tossed Miranda’s sweater to one side and asked, “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” she replied a little too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You just looked a little...”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, backing down. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight now, and it sounded like she was. Whenever Laura’s voice got that tight, controlled sound to it, he knew there was an argument headed his way. And it was just too nice a day for it. Who would have thought that he could enjoy a simple picnic so much? “Boy,” he commented absently, “this place gets nuts on the weekend.”

  “It’s the first nice day all week,” she said.

  He shot her a quick look, then turned away again, frowning. Were they really going to talk about the weather? There was so much he wanted to know about her. Like why a kindergarten teacher? Why wasn’t she married? And if she loved kids so much, why didn’t she have one or two of her own?

  But mostly, did she want him as much as he wanted her?

  He didn’t ask any
of his questions, though. For some reason, he couldn’t think of a way to start. Hell, he’d never had a hard time holding a conversation with a woman before. What was it about her that unsettled him so?

  Miranda pulled herself across Laura’s legs and crawled to him. Grateful for the distraction, Jeff lowered his gaze to the determined baby. Holding on to his shirtsleeve, she slowly drew herself up to wobble unsteadily on her bare feet. Her tiny toes curled into the blanket as if she were trying to get a grip on the world.

  “Hey,” he said, afraid to move lest he spoil her balance. “Look at you!” An unreasonable swell of pride filled his chest She looked so pleased with herself, he suddenly wished he had a camera. Good Lord, what was happening to him? Then Miranda gurgled at him, and something around his heart tightened a notch.

  “What a big girl you are!” he said.

  Miranda laughed up at him and swayed as she patted his chest with one hand.

  Chuckling, Jeff scooped her up in one arm and held her in front of him. The now familiar weight of her in his arms was comforting. She smelled of baby powder and giggles. It was a scent he would always remember.

  With his thumb, he wiped away a streak of drool from her chin, realizing ruefully that only two weeks ago, he would have grabbed a paper towel to handle the small task. “You’re something, kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you know you’re too young to walk?” He glanced at Laura, suddenly unsure. Heck, he didn’t have a clue what babies should be doing at any given age. “She is, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed, with a slight shake of her head. “But not too young to be trying.”

  “Ooo-rah, Miranda,” he said, looking back into blue eyes surprisingly like his own. “Always reach high, kiddo.”

  “Look out!” someone called a moment before a bright-blue-and-yellow ball bounced into the middle of the quilt.

  Laura grabbed it just as a harried-looking mother ran up to them, apologies spilling from her lips. She looked like a magazine ad for the typical southern California mom. Short blond hair, healthy tan and a welltoned body displayed by white shorts and a pale yellow tank top.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, and took the ball Laura offered her. “My five-year-old’s got quite a kick. His father is already planning his career in the NFL.” She took a deep breath, tucked the ball beneath her right arm and bent down to take a good look at Miranda. Reaching out one hand, she chucked the baby’s chin and sighed, “What a cute little girl.”