"Maybe we should call Brooks?" he suggested, feeling out of his depth and considerably unsettled.
Becky nibbled on her lower lip and DJ was struck with an unexpected urge to lean over and nibble on it too. "It's almost midnight."
"What good is having a brother for a doctor if you can't call him in the middle of the night?"
"I just hate to bother him after a day like today if it's just a normal baby spitting up thing." She went back to worrying that lower lip. "At least it's not coming out at both ends. I bet once she quiets down again she'll be fine."
"What do you think it is?"
Becky shook her head. "I'm not sure, but she seems to finally have nodded off."
So distracted by those lips, he hadn't even noticed that Brittany had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "Yeah, maybe the worst is behind us." He glanced at the still baby and back at Becky. "Should I try and lay her down."
Without hesitation, Becky's head swayed from side to side. "Not yet. Let's wait until she's seriously out cold."
He could go with that idea.
"Do you think this is why the mother left her?" Becky asked. "Because she fusses at night?"
"You mean tonight. She was fine last night." Well, at least for a couple of hours at a pop.
"True." Becky shook her head. "I know women abandon children all the time, but I just don't understand how."
DJ learned a long time ago to stop trying to understand the travesties of the world, but at the moment he was inclined to agree with Becky.
"Do you think Ethan will try to find her?" Becky reached forward and gently ran a finger down the baby's arm.
It took DJ a few seconds to realize Becky was referring to the mother, not the child and shook his head. "I've already got Brooklyn looking for her. Just in case."
"You do?" Becky's eyes rounded with surprise.
"She signed away her rights, but I want to make sure it's all on the up and up."
The light suddenly dimmed in Becky's eyes.
"Even if we find her," he continued quickly, "that doesn't mean Ethan will want to contact her."
"Who's to say he doesn't know how to find her already? Surely he must have her number or something?"
DJ blinked. How was he supposed to respond to that one? How did he explain to someone as sweet and kind as Becky that a marine on leave, especially one that has been living in a hellhole with a platoon of dirty tired men, doesn't particularly care what hole he sticks it in. The prettier the better, but after enough booze, even that doesn't matter anymore. Taking names and numbers was rarely part of the arrangement.
"I smell wood burning." The hint of a smile tugged at one side of her face.
"Excuse me?"
"You're thinking too hard. If that little line between your eyebrows gets any deeper, you'll hurt your brain."
"It's nothing."
"I don't believe that for a minute.” She looked off toward the front window and then turned back to him. "You think I don't get it."
"I didn't say that."
She shrugged. "You didn't have to. Just because I choose not to dwell on what Ethan's life is like, doesn't mean I don't know about a girl in every port."
"That's sailors."
"So you're saying that Ethan is a pillar of virtue and this child is just an anomaly?"
Damn, he wished they'd go back to talking about fishing in the creek, the pros and cons of diaper brands, even about Jake Thomas.
"That bad?" She leaned back and crossed her legs Indian style. "I always picture Ethan exactly the way he appears on his social media accounts. Smiling, laughing, hanging out with his buddies. But I'm aware he's not a saint." A knowing smile curled her lips. "None of you brothers are."
DJ had never claimed to be a saint, but for some reason, having Becky call him out on perfectly normal adult relations had him wanting to squirm in his seat like a kid caught making out on the family sofa.
Her smile bloomed from cheek to cheek. "You're cute when you blush."
"Thanks. Cute was definitely the look I was going for."
"Declan James Farraday, cute is a compliment."
His efforts to hide the flinch at the use of his full name weren't fast enough and Becky rolled her eyes at him. "Any time Declan and James were used in the same sentence, I was inevitably in a lot of trouble. If Farraday was tacked on to the end, I could be taking my last breath."
"I don't think it was ever that bad. Besides," she shrugged, "I always thought calling you DJ was a waste of a beautiful name."
He'd been told a lot of different things about his name. Especially in the marines where playing with people's names was as normal during a tour of duty as eating popcorn at the movies. He was just grateful some of the less than flattering plays on his name hadn't stuck. Going through four years of the marines with the handle Duckland would have changed the game. "Thank you. For what it's worth, I've always thought Rebecca suited you. It's a lovely name."
A charming shade of pink singed Becky's cheeks. Any color looked lovely on her. For his own good, he figured it was time to move on.
Brittany hadn't stirred and he hoped that meant they were past the worst of it. "Let's see if I can get her down so we can get a little shuteye."
Becky nodded and slowly they made their way into the bedroom. DJ did his best to pass the baby from his shoulder to his hands and into the portable crib. Standing perfectly still, waiting for an ear-piercing scream if Brittany didn't intend to spend the night, DJ held his breath. Satisfied the baby was going to stay sound asleep, he took a step back. Becky inched away as well when Brittany shifted her bottom up into the air and exercised her lungs.
"And here we go around." DJ scooped the baby up, laid her against his shoulder and proceeded to pace and rock. This longest day of his life just didn't want to end.
Chapter Eleven
Struggling to open her eyes, Becky flinched at the pain shooting down her neck and across her left shoulder. She'd been dreaming about a big empty field of hay except for a big old bull, an unsteady new calf and a half naked cowboy. Blinking her eyes quickly, the morning fog in her brain was slowly clearing and her mind was waking up. She wasn't in a field with a bull or any other animal, she was in the middle of her living room curled up on the loveseat and…oh yeah.
Springing up, she looked to the bedroom door before noticing DJ on the sofa across from her. Still in his pants, he'd stripped out of his t-shirt the last time Brittany spat up on him. Which might explain the crazy dream. At one end of the couch his booted feet hung over the top, at the opposite end his head lolled forward, his chin touching his chest. She wasn't going to be the only one with a painful crimp in her neck.
The culprit responsible for the loss of sleep and tantalizing dreams that would have given Freud a laugh, lay nestled in the crook of DJ's arm.
By somewhere around three in the morning, she and DJ had once again returned to pacing and rocking Brittany to sleep one last time and Becky and DJ must have nodded off too, because she couldn't remember anything else after that.
Now she watched the gentle giant sleeping with the precious baby. Most of her life, she'd envisioned moments exactly like this, only with Ethan. The handsome fair-haired brave daredevil would put away his expensive toys and come home to set down roots. Not that flying missions in the military was a game, it was dangerous as hell and she knew that. Even now, her stomach churned with unease almost every day knowing one of those missions was most likely why Ethan hadn't responded to any of his brothers recent attempts to contact him. But for the first time, watching DJ sleeping with his arm protectively cradling Brittany, Ethan's baby, circumstance chiseled away at her warped perspective of reality. Ethan's baby being the startling key. At no point was she stupid enough to think Brittany was the divine conception. Despite the baffled way DJ had looked at her, she didn't believe Ethan ignored the opposite sex, she simply chose not to think about how much of their company he might enjoy. Not till last night, over a few quiet moments’ conversation and t
he strained expressions dancing across DJ's face, did she understand exactly how many women were most likely involved in Ethan's real world. At least when on leave.
Both she and DJ were a little punch drunk from lack of sleep by the time Brittany had fallen into her first deep sleep of the night. Somewhere, the words barfly and hookup were used a time too many for her own comfort, and she realized DJ's comments about Aunt Eileen's potential fear of how many other children had Ethan fathered wasn't quite the joke she'd taken it to be.
And that was when reality hit. The kind, sweet, charming man she'd adored since he'd come to her rescue in the first grade, had probably slept with every attractive willing woman to cross his path. Well, maybe not every, but from the pitiful way DJ had looked at Becky, she'd guessed every wasn't that far off the mark.
Slowly padding across the room, she moved cautiously through the kitchen wanting to allow DJ as much sleep as possible. Measuring coffee, she made it strong the way he liked it and then tossed in an extra scoop. They were both going to need it. By her calculations, the last nap had lasted a full two hours giving her a grand total of maybe three hours sleep, if that. From where she stood, DJ looked to be dead to the world. So much so, if she hadn't known what they'd been through the night before, she would have checked his pulse to see if he had indeed died in his sleep.
The smart thing to do now would be catch a very quick shower while the coffee brewed, the problem being she was having a really hard time dragging her eyes away from DJ's naked chest. The man wore a shirt really well. Anyone knew that. At more than one girl's night out, there had been joking and teasing about what great asses all the brothers had too. Tall, dark and hunky rolled off the tongue when speaking of a Farraday, but the last time she'd seen any of the Farradays without a shirt, she'd been a little girl and they had been pretty gangly teens. Boy, had things changed.
Strong muscled arms still held on tightly to Brittany. Strength that came from hard work and healthy exercise. A splattering of dark curly hair spread from nipple to nipple. Just enough for a girl to let her fingers wander. Those same dark hairs trailed down his middle, swirled around his belly button and disappeared in a v by his undone buckle. The man definitely knew how to wear sexy. And wasn't she just as bad as those barflies, staring unabashedly at the sleeping man on her sofa.
"Mornin'." His voice came out low and rough and made the hairs on her arms stand at attention.
Eyes wide open, his gaze shifted to the kitchen. How long had he been awake? Had he seen her staring at him? At his chest? Dear God, at his…buckle? Desperate to run and hide for getting caught gawking, she screwed up her courage, praying she wasn't blushing like a virtuous schoolgirl, and lowered her voice to a whisper, "I'm making coffee."
His voice dropped even lower. "Bless you."
She chuckled softly. The nice side of this crazy situation was getting to know the funny, easy going part of DJ she hadn't known over morning coffee, late night conversation and even old movies. When she and Grace were young, he was just older. When he moved home after serving in the marines and working in Dallas, he always seemed the serious adult. She admired his attitude, his service, his respectability, but she liked this side of DJ.
Placing his free hand at the back of Brittany's head, DJ slowly swung his legs around and eased himself to sitting position.
"Shall I take her?" Becky hurried around the sofa to stand in front of him.
"I need to use the bathroom."
Nodding, she carefully slid the baby into her arms. Brittany stirred and shifted and for a few seconds Becky was afraid the fussing and crying would start all over, but the infant settled into her shoulder and both she and DJ let out an audible sigh.
With a dip of his chin and a smile, he took a step forward and rolled his neck from side to side. She knew she shouldn't, but Becky kept her eyes on his back as he crossed the room. From any angle, the man was just fine. And wasn't she just awful for once again gawking. She seriously needed to get a man of her own.
***
Damn. At the bathroom sink, DJ splashed cool water in his face and blew out several long deep breaths. What he needed was a long, icy shower. Never had he been so thankful for the restraint of good old-fashioned denim. When he woke up thinking of Becky only to find her staring at him, every inch of his skin tightened with the sensation of her gaze scanning over him as though her soft hands had covered him instead. The only thing that had kept old glory from standing at full embarrassing attention was knowing even though her eyes stared in his direction, the one on her mind had to be Ethan. Ethan and his baby.
Besides, now wasn't the time to get all bent out of a shape by a woman. Especially not this woman. He had one hell of a day ahead of him with the Thomas shooting, and following up on the DNA samples, and a sweet sick baby to contend with. Brittany, of course, was the priority. Brushing his teeth and closing his buckle, he looked down at his bare chest. Last night, Brittany had gone through the few clean t-shirts he'd brought with him. At some point today, stopping by his place for more clothes was going to have to be squeezed onto the mile long to-do list. And definitely more t-shirts than he would normally need. Taking a minute, he swung into the bedroom and pulled out a clean uniform shirt. He was still buttoning it when he came to a stop in the short hall. Able to see and hear Becky softly singing to the tiny sleeping baby, his heart stuttered. Ethan was a lucky son of a bitch—if he'd open his eyes and see what was right in front of him. A sweet baby and a woman who didn't question how that baby got here.
He forced his feet to move forward. In DJ's line of work, he didn't think often of home and hearth, but right about now, having a woman love him and his baby seemed like an awfully sweet dream.
***
"So what's the verdict?" Becky asked.
"Hard to say for sure." Brooks closed up his medical bag. Being dragged out of bed just after six in the morning after a day and night like yesterday wasn't his favorite thing to do, especially not now that Toni slept snuggly beside him. "Mild signs of flaky skin, a few red patches and the vomiting. My suspicion is she's allergic to the formula you bought her."
"I didn't know." Becky whispered softly, looking to the baby. DJ, on the other hand, looked to Becky. Concern filled both their gazes. Interesting. Not that it would surprise him that DJ would worry over the health of any baby, but the unease in his gaze seemed clearly directed at Becky, not the baby. And wasn't that a different development.
"So what do we do now?" DJ asked.
"Most infant allergies are caused by a protein in a cow milk based formula. I'm not sure what formulas the sister's have. You could try a soy based formula. About 15% of babies allergic to milk based formula will be allergic to soy based formula so the odds are 85% in her favor."
"And if she's one of the 15%?"
"There are a couple of other formula options. I have samples of two different ones at the clinic but you'll probably have to go to Butler Springs to stock up." He snapped his case shut. "Give her some water now to keep her tummy full. I'm sure either Sister or Sissy will be delighted to open up early if you give them a call."
"Thanks. Appreciate you coming over so early."
Brooks laughed. House calls wouldn't happen if he'd stayed in Dallas, but he wouldn't trade his lifestyle here for anything short of a cure for cancer. And… "Next time don't wait till morning to call."
DJ reached out and Becky handed the baby over. No one said a word. DJ patted Brittany's back and walked into the kitchen, Becky turned toward the door. It took Brooks a few seconds to gather his thoughts and follow Becky. Only a couple of nights and these two had fallen into a seamless routine that included silent communication. Oh hell yes, this was getting very interesting.
Chapter Twelve
"Go take a nap. That's an order." Adam tossed a file on the counter top and shook his head at Becky. "Seriously, you look like an audition for the Walking Dead. We can handle things here."
More than once this morning, Becky had dozed off at her desk
only to have the weight of her own head snap her awake again. At least twice she'd given Adam the wrong patient file. How she'd confused an aging feline named Gertrude with a young canine named Max, she had no idea. Not the numbers, letters or folder colors were anything close to each other.
So far, it seemed the new formula sat well with Brittany, but Becky had let Kelly and the lab techs take turns feeding the baby for fear she'd fall asleep and drop the poor thing.
"See, you're too tired to even answer. Go." Adam urged her on.
"The baby—"
"Is well cared for. Spoiled even. Go."
"You're a good boss." The words that past her lips sounded something like “Yogle Bows,” but either Adam didn't notice or didn't care. Now all she had to do was put one foot in front of the other and climb the stairs. Never had the thought of bed seemed so wonderful. She had no idea how parents lived and worked and raised children—more than one of them—every day, but she was more than ready to turn little Brittany over to her full time parents. Half way to the front door she paused by the porta crib and peeked in on the sleeping baby. Or maybe not.
***
"I don't like this." Reed stood at DJ's side in his office.
"You don't have to like it. It is what it is." Standard Operating Procedure. All police involved shooting incidents had to be investigated whether in the far reaches of West Texas or a metropolitan madhouse like Dallas. Administrative leave was unavoidable. In the case of a department the size of Tuckers Bluff, DJ would be doing his job from his desk—most of his job. "Besides, it's not like I don't spend a good chunk of the day in this seat anyhow."
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